Thursday, Jan. 30.—I was extremely glad when, after a long delay—for we had been obliged to wait more than an hour for the poor nag presented to me by the governor,—we reached the south-eastern gate of the town, the “kófa-n-Káura.” It was as if I had just escaped from a prison, and I drew my breath deeply as I inhaled the fresh air outside the wall. I should have carried with me a very unfavourable impression of Kátsena, if it had not been my destiny to visit this place again under more favourable circumstances; and I should have obtained a very false idea of the character of the Fúlbe, if, from the little experience which I had acquired in this place, I had formed a definitive judgment of them.

On the southern side of the town there is at present no cultivated ground; but the whole country is in a wild state, covered with brushwood. What we saw also of the traffic on the path seemed to be not of a very peaceable kind; for we met nothing but armed foot and horsemen hastening to Kátsena on the news of the expedition in course of preparation by the people of Marádi. But further on, the aspect of the country became a little more peaceful; and after a march of three miles we passed a well, where the women from a neighbouring village were offering for sale the common vegetables of the country, such as gowáza or yams, dánkali or sweet potatoes, kúka, the leaves of the monkey bread-tree, dodówa or the vegetable cakes mentioned above, ground nuts, beans, and sour milk. Nevertheless the whole country, with its few fortified villages, its little cultivation, and the thick forests which separated the villages one from another, left the impression of a very unsettled and precarious existence. I observed that brushwood, where it is not interrupted by larger trees, is always a proof of cultivation having been carried on at no distant period. In the midst of a wild thicket, which deranged all my things, we met a long warlike-train of several hundred horsemen, who perhaps might have incommoded us on the narrow path, if the strange appearance of my luggage had not so frightened the horses, that they rather chose to carry their riders through the very thickest of the covert than to fall in with us. Dúm-palms now began to appear; and beyond the considerable village Bay, cultivation became more extensive. Besides the fan-palm, the dumma and kaña, and the immense monkey bread-tree, with its colossal (now leafless) branches, from which the long heavy “kauchi” were hanging down on slender mouse-tail stalks, were the prevalent trees.

By degrees the country became more beautiful and cheerful, exhibiting a character of repose and ease which is entirely wanting in the northern parts of the province; separate comfortable dwellings of cattle-breeding Féllani were spread about, and the cornfields were carefully fenced and well kept. I was greatly astonished when Gajére with a certain feeling of national pride, pointed out to me here the extensive property of Sídi Ghálli el Háj Ánnur, the man whom I had occasion, in my description of Agades, to mention amongst the most respectable people of that town. It is astonishing how much property is held in these fertile regions by the Tuarek of Asben; and to what consequences this may eventually lead, everybody will easily conjecture.

A little before four o’clock in the afternoon we encamped close to a village called Shibdáwa, the celebrated town of Dáura being distant two days’ march.

Friday, Jan. 31.—It was a most beautiful morning; and I indulged in the feeling of unbounded liberty, and in the tranquil enjoyment of the beautiful aspect of God’s creation. The country through which we passed on leaving Shibdáwa, formed one of the finest landscapes I ever saw in my life. The ground was pleasantly undulating, covered with a profusion of herbage not yet entirely dried up by the sun’s power; the trees, belonging to a great variety of species, were not thrown together into an impenetrable thicket of the forest, but formed into beautiful groups, exhibiting all the advantage of light and shade. There was the kaña, with its rich dark-tinged foliage; the kadeña, or butter-tree, which I here saw for the first time, exhibiting the freshest and most beautiful green; then the marké, more airy, and sending out its branches in more irregular shape, with light groups of foliage; young tamarind-trees rounding off their thick crown of foliage till it resembled an artificial canopy spread out for the traveller to repose in its shade, besides the gámji, the shéria, the sokútso, the turáwa, and many other species of trees unknown to me; while above them all, tall and slender górebas unfolded their fan-crowns, just as if to protect the eye of the delighted wanderer from the rays of the morning sun, and to allow him to gaze undisturbed on the enchanting scenery around. Near the village Káshi even the gónda-tree, or Carica Papaya, which is so rarely seen in these quarters, enlivened the scenery. The densely luxuriant groves seemed to be the abode only of the feathered tribe, birds of numberless variety playing and warbling about in the full enjoyment of their liberty, while the “serdi,” a large bird with beautiful plumage of a light-blue colour, especially attracted my attention. Now and then a herd of cattle was seen dispersed over the rich pasturage grounds, all of white colour, and the bulls provided with a large fat hump or “tózo” hanging down on one side. But in this delightful spectacle objects of destruction also were not wanting, the poisonous plant “túmnia” starting forth everywhere. Cotton and karásia fields interrupted the parklike scenery; and near Kámri, a small place surrounded with a low clay wall, we were delighted with the view of a green patch of low ground laid out into beds, and with the help of a number of drawbeams, “khattatír,” or “lámbuna,” producing wheat and onions. This ground too is only worked with the gélma and the fertáña or small hoe.

Granite rock was protruding in several places; and a little after midday we had a detached range of hills on our right stretching east and west. Soon afterwards, near the village Temma, we passed a small market-place consisting of about eight sheds, and shaded by a number of wide-spreading tamarind-trees, where I was astonished at the number of cattle and horses assembled, but heard on inquiry that they were not intended for sale. Further on, after we had passed the fields of Gógó, plenty of cattle and goats were seen browsing everywhere about. All the cattle were of a white, and all the goats of a coffee-brown colour. Having passed the encampment of the Tin-néggaru or Kél-néggaru, and crossed a dale fringed with small fresh patches of wheat, which were watered by way of the said “lámbuna” from wells in the hollow, we encamped a quarter before four o’clock close to the fence of the village Bógo; for the whole country swarms with thieves, and great caution is necessary at night: the Tin-néggaru last night killed a thief who was attempting to carry off a loaf of salt.

Saturday, Feb. 1.—After a march of about two miles and a half over clayey ground greatly broken up by the rains, we reached the north-west corner of the considerable town Kusáda, and continued along its western wall, where a group of very tall and majestic rimis (Bombax or Eriodendron Guineense), though at present leafless, formed a most conspicuous object. It is very singular and highly characteristic, that this tree (the bentang-tree of Mungo Park) generally grows near the principal gate of the large towns in Háusa, while otherwise it is not frequent, at least not the large full-grown specimens; and it is not improbable that the natives purposely planted them in those places as a kind of waymark—or perhaps it may be a remnant of their pagan customs, this tree being deemed holy by several pagan tribes. It is almost incredible at what an immense distance these stupendous trees, the tallest of the vegetable kingdom, may be seen.

Kusáda is a town of importance, and is very little less than Gazáwa, though not so thickly inhabited; the wall of the town is in tolerably good repair, and the interior is rich in trees, making it look very cheerful and comfortable. Most of the huts consist of clay walls, with a thatched roof, which is certainly the mode of architecture best adapted to the climate and the whole nature of the country.

When leaving the south side of this town we were joined by a troop of women very heavily laden, each carrying upon the head from six to ten enormous calabashes filled with various articles: but they did not prove to be agreeable company; for not being able to walk steadily for any length of time with their loads, they stopped every few minutes, and then went on at a running pace, till they were obliged again to halt, so that they came frequently into collision either with my camel or with the bullock. It is really incredible what loads the native women of Negroland can carry on their heads, but I think no other tribe is equal in this respect to the Tápua or Nyffáwa. The country through which we had to pass along for the first two miles was overgrown with underwood, and much broken up by the rains, till we reached the stubble-fields of Kaférda, where my attention was attracted again by a few scattered specimens of the gigiña, or deléb-palm, which, in these districts, seems to be extremely rare. Descending then a little, the country assumed once more that delightful parklike appearance which had so charmed me the previous day; and the variety of the vegetation was extraordinary,—góreba, jéja, gámji, rími, and dóka being the principal trees.

The industry of the natives was also well represented; for soon after we had met a troop of men carrying home loads of indigo-plants, in order to prepare them in their simple way, we passed over extensive tobacco-fields, which had very nearly reached maturity. Rich aromatic bushes were growing everywhere in the fields, affording most nourishing food for bees, for which purpose hives, formed of thick hollow logs, were fastened to the branches of the colossal kúka-trees. We here passed a most curious specimen of vegetable intercourse in the thorough intermixture of a gigiña with another tree. In the course of my travels my attention was drawn to the interesting attraction which exists between the tamarind-tree and the kúka, both of which trees I very often found linked together in the closest embraces. This district was greatly enlivened also by a rich variety of the feathered tribe, but the beautiful serdi was not seen; the káló and the tsírna now taking its place.