In the course of the day we obtained the important news, that Mohammed Láwl, the governor of Ádamáwa, had returned from his expedition against the Bána, or rather Mbána, a tribe settled ten days’ march north-eastward from Yóla, but at less distance from Ujé. Bíllama gave me much interesting information about the country before us, chiefly with reference to Sugúr, a powerful and entirely independent pagan chief in the mountains south from Mándará. With regard to this latter country, I perceived more clearly, as I advanced, what a small province it must be, comprehending little more than the capital and a few hamlets lying close around. There came to me also an intelligent-looking Púllo merchant, who was trading between Kanó and Ujé along the route indicated above; but unluckily he did not call on me until sunset, just as the prayer of the almákárifú was approaching, and he did not return in the evening as I wished him to do.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE BORDER-COUNTRY OF THE MARGHI.
Friday, June 6.—We now commenced travelling more in earnest. Íbrahíma had been busy looking after his master’s subjects, who had been carried away into slavery, all about the villages in the neighbourhood, but with very little success. Our road passed close by Ujé Kásukulá, which to-day looked quite deserted; and then through a populous country with numerous villages and fine pasture-grounds, where I saw the plant called “wálde” by the Fúlbe.
I had taken great pains in Kúkawa, while gathering information about the country whither I was going, to ascertain from my informants whether snow ever lies there on the tops of the mountains or not; but I could never get at the truth, none of the natives whom I interrogated having ever visited North Africa, so as to be able to identify what he saw on the tops of the mountains in his country with the snow seen in the north. Áhmedu bel Mejúb, indeed, knew the Atlas, and had seen snow on some of the tops of that range; but he had paid little attention to the subject, and did not think himself justified in deciding the question. Now this morning, when we obtained once more a sight of Mount Dalántubá, marking out, as it were, the beginning of a mountainous region, we returned again to the subject; and all that my companions said led me to believe that I might really expect to see snow on the highest mountains of Ádamáwa. But after all I was mistaken; for they were speaking of clouds. Unfortunately Bíllama had taken another path, so that to-day I had no one to tell me the names of the villages which we passed. Some geographers think this a matter of no consequence—for them it is enough if the position of the chief places be laid down by exact astronomical observation; but to me the general character of a country, the way in which the population is settled, and the nature and character of those settlements themselves, seem to form some of the chief and most useful objects of a journey through a new and unknown country.
Having marched for more than two hours through an uninterrupted scene of agriculture and dense population, we entered a wild tract covered principally with the beautiful large bush of the tsáda, the fruit of which, much like a red cherry, has a pleasant acid taste, and was eaten with great avidity, not only by my companions, but even by myself. But the scene of man’s activity soon again succeeded to this narrow border of wilderness; and a little before we came to the village Túrbe, which was surrounded by open cultivated country, we passed a luxuriant tamarind-tree, in the shade of which a blacksmith had established his simple workshop. The group consisted of three persons, the master heating the iron in the fire; a boy blowing it with a small pair of bellows, or “búbutú,” and a lad fixing a handle in a hatchet. On the ground near them lay a finished spear. Riding up to salute the smith, I asked him whence the iron was procured, and learnt that it was brought from Madégelé, in Búbanjídda. This is considered as the best iron hereabouts; but a very good sort of iron is obtained also in Mándará.
We halted for the hot hours of the day near a village belonging to the district Shámo, which originally formed part of the Marghí country, but has been separated from it and annexed to Bórnu, its former inhabitants having either been led into slavery or converted to Islám—that is to say, taught to repeat a few Arabic phrases, without understanding a word of them. The inhabitants of the village brought us paste of Guinea-corn and milk, which, mixed together, make a palatable dish. From this place onward, ngáberi, or holcus, prevails almost exclusively, and argúm móro, or Pennisetum typhoïdeum, becomes rare.
Some native traders, armed with spears and driving before them asses laden with salt, here attached themselves to our troop; for the road further on is so much infested by robbers, that only a large body of men can pass it in safety. The country which we now entered bore but too evident proofs of the unfortunate condition to which it is reduced, forming a thick forest, through which nevertheless, here and there, the traces of former cultivation and the mouldering remains of huts are to be seen. According to Bíllama, as late as a few years ago a large portion of this district was inhabited by Kanúri and Gámerghú, the latter, most probably, having taken possession of the lands abandoned by the Marghí; but ʿAli Déndal, who has ruled it for Abú Bakr, the son of ʿOmár, a youth without intelligence, and only anxious to make the most of his province, has ruined it by his rapacity: he, however, was soon to be ruined himself. There was a small spot where the forest had been cleared away for cultivation,—a proof that the natives, if they were only humanely treated by the government, would not be wanting in exertion.
The forest was partly filled up by a dense jungle of reed-grass, of such a height as to cover horse and rider. The soil is of a black, boggy, argillaceous nature, and full of holes, which make the passage through this tract extremely difficult in the latter part of the rainy season. My companions also drew my attention to the bee-hives underground, from which a peculiar kind of honey is obtained, which I shall repeatedly have occasion to mention in the course of my narrative.
After three hours’ march through this wild and unpleasant country, we reached a small village called Yerímarí, which, according to Bíllama, had formerly been of much greater size; at present it is inhabited by a few Marghí Mohammedan proselytes. There being only one hut in the yard assigned to us, I preferred pitching my tent, thinking that the storm which had threatened us in the afternoon had passed by, as the clouds had gone westwards. However, I soon learned that, in tropical climes, there is no certainty of a storm having passed away, the clouds often returning from the opposite quarter.
We had already retired to rest when the tempest burst upon us with terrible fury, threatening to tear my weak little tent to pieces. Fortunately the top-ropes were well fastened; and, planting myself against the quarter from whence the wind blew, I succeeded in keeping it upright. The rain came down in torrents; and, though the tent excluded it tolerably well from above, the water rushed in from below and wetted my luggage. But as soon as it fairly begins to rain, a traveller in a tolerable tent is safe; for then the heavy gale ceases. Sitting down upon my camp-stool, I quietly awaited the end of the storm, when I betook myself to the hut, where I found Mʿallem Katúri and Bú-Sʿad comfortably stretched.