1, My own quarters in Dalá. During my second stay in Kanó, I also resided in Dalá, at a short distance from my old quarters; 2, Great market-place; 3, Small market-place; 4, Palace of Governor; 5, Palace of Ghaladíma; 6, Kofa Mazúger; 7, Kofa-n-Adama; 8, Kofa-n-Gúdan; 9, Kofa-n-Kansákkali; 10, Kofa-n-Limún, or Káboga: 11, Kofa-n-Dakanye, or Dukánie; 12, Kofa-n-Dakaina; 13, Kofa-n-Naísa; 14, Kofa-n-Kúra; 15, Kofa-n-Nasaráwa; 16, Kofa-n-Máta; 17, Kofa-n-Wambay; 18, Kofa-n-Magardi; 19, Kofa-n-Rúa (at present shut); 20, Mount Dalá; 21, Mount Kógo-n-dútsi.

Now a busy “máriná,” an open terrace of clay, with a number of dyeing-pots, and people busily employed in various processes of their handicraft; here a man stirring the juice, and mixing with the indigo some colouring wood in order to give it the desired tint; there another, drawing a shirt from the dye-pot, or hanging it upon a rope fastened to the trees; there two men beating a well-dyed shirt, singing the while, and keeping good time; further on, a blacksmith busy with his rude tools in making a dagger which will surprise, by the sharpness of its blade, those who feel disposed to laugh at the workman’s instruments, a formidable barbed spear, or the more estimable and useful instruments of husbandry; in another place, men and women making use of an ill-frequented thoroughfare, as a “kaudi tseggenábe,” to hang up, along the fences, their cotton thread for weaving; close by, a group of indolent loiterers lying in the sun and idling away their hours.

Here a caravan from Gónja arriving with the desired kola-nut, chewed by all who have “ten kurdí” to spare from their necessary wants, or a caravan laden with natron, starting for Núpe, or a troop of Asbenáwa going off with their salt for the neighbouring towns, or some Arabs leading their camels, heavily laden with the luxuries of the north and east (the “káya-n-ghábbes”) to the quarter of the Ghadamsíye; there, a troop of gaudy, warlike-looking horsemen galloping towards the palace of the governor to bring him the news of a new inroad of serkí Ibrám. Everywhere human life in its varied forms, the most cheerful and the most gloomy, seem closely mixed together; every variety of national form and complexion—the olive-coloured Arab, the dark Kanúri, with his wide nostrils, the small-featured, light, and slender ba-Féllanchi, the broad-faced ba-Wángara (Mandingo), the stout, large-boned, and masculine-looking Núpe female, the well-proportioned and comely ba-Háushe woman.

Delighted with my trip, and deeply impressed by the many curious and interesting scenes which had presented themselves to my eyes, I returned by way of the “úngwa-n-makáfi,” or “belád el amiyán” (the village of the blind), to my quarters, the gloominess and cheerlessness of which made the more painful impression upon me from its contrast with the brightly animated picture which I had just before enjoyed. The next day I made another long ride through the town; and being tolerably well acquainted with the topography of the place and its different quarters, I enjoyed still more the charming view obtained from the top of the Dalá.

I had just descended from the eminence beneath which spread this glorious panorama, when I heard a well-known voice calling me by my name; it was ʿAbdallah the Tawáti, my friend and teacher in Ágades, who, after residing some time in Tasáwa, had come to try his fortune in this larger sphere of action. I had besides him some other acquaintances, who gave me much interesting information, particularly a young ba-Háushe lad of the name of Íbrahíma, who gave me the first tolerably correct idea of the road to Yóla, the capital of Adamáwa, although he was puzzled about the direction of the Great River, which he had crossed, supposing that it flowed eastward instead of westward. I derived also a great deal of information from a less agreeable man named Mohammed, with the surname “el Merábet” (reclaimed), rather antithetically, as “lucus à non lucendo,” for he was the most profligate drunkard imaginable, and eventually remained indebted to me for several thousand cowries.

I was much worried during my stay in Kanó by a son of the governor of Zária, who, suffering dreadfully from stricture or some other obstruction, had come expressly to Kanó in the hope of being relieved by me; and it was impossible for me to convince him that I had neither the knowledge nor the instruments necessary for effecting the cure of his disease. It would, no doubt, have been of great service if I had been able to cure him, as he was the son of one of the most powerful princes of Negroland; but as it was, I could only afford him a little temporary relief. My intercourse with this man was indeed most painful to me, as I felt conscious of entire inability to help him, while he conjured me, by all that was dear to me, not to give him up and abandon him. He died shortly afterwards. More agreeable to me was a visit from the eldest son of the governor of Kanó, who, accompanied by two horsemen, came to call upon me one day, and not finding me at home, traced me whither I had gone, and having met me, followed silently till I had re-entered my quarters. He was a handsome, modest, and intelligent youth of about eighteen years of age, and was delighted with the performance of my musical-box. I gave him an English clasp-knife, and we parted the best of friends, greatly pleased with each other.

I had considerable difficulty in arranging my pecuniary affairs, and felt really ashamed at being unable to pay my debt to the Háj el Dáwaki till after el Wákhshi himself had arrived from Kátsena. After having sold, with difficulty, all that I possessed, having suffered a very heavy loss by Báwu’s dishonesty, paid my debts, and arranged my business with Mohammed el Túnsi, who, suffering under a very severe attack of fever, wanted most eagerly to return home, I should scarcely have been able to make the necessary preparations for my journey to Bórnu if the governor had not assisted me a little. He had hitherto behaved very shabbily towards me, not a single dish, not a sheep or other token of his hospitality having been sent me during my stay in the town. I was therefore most agreeably surprised when, on the morning of the 2nd of March, old Elaíji came and announced to me that, in consequence of his urgent remonstrances, the governor had sent me a present of sixty thousand kurdí. He told me, with a sort of pride, that he had severely reprimanded him, assuring him that he was the only prince who had not honoured me. I should have been better pleased if the governor had sent me a pair of camels or a horse; but I was thankful for this unexpected supply, and giving six thousand to the officer who had brought the money, and as much to Elaíji, and dividing eight thousand between Báwu and Sídi ʿAlí, I kept forty thousand for myself.

With this present I was fortunately enabled to buy two camels instead of sumpter-oxen, which give great trouble on the road during the dry season, especially if not properly attended to, and prepared everything for my journey; but the people in these countries are all cowards, and as I was to go alone without a caravan, I was unable to find a good servant. Thus I had only my faithful Tébu lad Mohammed whom I could rely upon, having besides him none but a debauched young Fezzáni, Makhmúd, who had long lived in this town, and a youth named ʿAbdallah. Nevertheless I felt not a moment’s hesitation, but, on the contrary, impatiently awaited the moment when I should leave my dingy and melancholy quarters, full of mice and vermin.

I had hoped to get off on the 6th; but nothing was heard from the governor, and it would have been imprudent to start without his permission. With envious feelings I witnessed the departure of the natron caravan for Núpe or Nýffi, consisting of from two to three hundred asses. With it went Mohammed Ánnur, a very intelligent man, whom I had endeavoured by all possible means to hire as a servant, but could not muster shells enough. However, the exploration of all those more distant regions I was obliged in my present circumstances to give up, and to concentrate my whole energies on the effort to reach Kúkawa, where I had concerted with Mr. Richardson to arrive in the beginning of April. I had had the satisfaction of sending off a long report and several letters to Europe on the 1st of March (when the Ghadamsíye merchants despatched a courier to their native town), and felt therefore much easier with regard to my communication with Europe. My delay also had given me the great advantage of making the acquaintance of a man named Mohammed el ʿAnáya, from the Dʿara el Takhtaníye, to the south of Morocco, who first gave me some general information about the route from Timbúktu to Sókoto, which in the sequel was to become a new field for my researches and adventures.