Sunday, June 8.—We set out at a tolerably early hour, to pass a forest of considerable extent. In the beginning it was rather light, such as the Kanúri called “dírridé,” and at times interrupted by open pasture-ground covered with the freshest herbage, and full of the footprints of elephants of every age and size. Pools of stagnant water were seen in all directions, and flowers filled the air with a delicious fragrance; but the path, being full of holes, and of a miry consistence, became at times extremely difficult, especially for the camels. As for ourselves we were well off, eating now and then some wild fruit, and either sucking out the pulp of the “tóso,” or devouring the succulent root of the “katakírri.”
The tóso is the fruit of the Bassia Parkii, called kadeña by the Háusa people, and consists almost entirely of a large kernel of the colour and size of a chestnut, which is covered with a thin pulp inside the green peel: this pulp has a very agreeable taste, but is so thin that it is scarcely worth sucking out. The tree in question, which I had lost sight of entirely since I left Háusa, is very common hereabouts; and the people prepare a good deal of butter from the kernel, which is not only esteemed for seasoning their food, but also for the medicinal qualities ascribed to it, and which I shall repeatedly have occasion to mention. As for the katakírri, it is a bulbous root, sometimes of the size of a large English potato, the pulp being not unlike that of a large radish, but softer, more succulent, and also very refreshing and nutritious. The juice has a milky colour. A man may easily travel for a whole day with nothing to eat but this root, which seems to be very common during the rainy season in the woody and moist districts of Central Africa—at least as far as I had occasion to observe. It is not less frequent near the Niger and in Kébbi than it is here; but I never observed it in Bórnu, nor in Bagírmi. It requires but little experience to find out where the bulbous root grows, its indication above ground being a single blade about ten inches high; but it sometimes requires a good deal of labour to dig up the roots, as they are often about a foot or a foot and a half under ground.
The soil gradually became worse; the trees were of a most uniform description, being all mimosas, and all alike of indifferent growth, while only here and there a large leafless Adansonia stretched forth its gigantic arms as if bewailing the desolation spread around, where human beings had formerly subsisted: for the kúka or baobab likes the dwelling of the Negro, and he, on the other hand, can scarcely live without it; for how could he season his simple food without the baobab’s young fresh leaves, or sweeten and flavour his drink without the slightly acid pulp wherein the kernels are imbedded? The herbage was reduced to single tufts of coarse grass four or five feet high; and the path became abominable, not allowing a moment’s inattention or thoughtful abstraction, from fear of being thrown off, the next minute, into a swampy hole.
Thus we went on cheerlessly, when about eleven o’clock the growth of the trees began to improve, and I observed a tree, which I did not remember to have seen before, of middle size, the foliage rather thin and of light-green colour; it is called “kamándu” in Kanúri, and “bóshi” in Háusa. The country, however, does not exhibit a single trace of habitation, either of the past or present time; and on our right no village was said to be nearer than Díshik at the distance of half a day’s journey, and even that was reported to be now deserted by its inhabitants. At length the monotonous gloomy forest gave way to scattered clusters of large trees, such as generally indicate the neighbourhood of man’s industry, and we soon after emerged upon beautiful green meadow-lands stretching out to the very foot of the Wándalá mountains, the whole range of which, in its entire length from north to south, lay open to view. It was a charming sight, the beautiful green of the plain against the dark colour of the mountains, and the clear sunny sky; and I afterwards regretted deeply that I had not made a slight sketch of the country from this spot, as near the village the same wide horizon was no longer visible.
It was one o’clock in the afternoon when we reached the first cluster of huts belonging to the village or district or Ísge, or Íssege, which spread to a considerable extent over the plain, while horses and sheep were feeding on the adjacent pastures, and women were cultivating the fields. A first glance at this landscape impressed me with the conviction that I had at length arrived at a seat of the indigenous inhabitants, which, although it had evidently felt the influence of its overbearing and merciless neighbours, had not yet been altogether despoiled by their hands. Vigorous and tall manly figures, girt round the loins with a short leathern apron, and wearing, besides their agricultural tools, the “danísko” (handbill), or a spear, were proudly walking about or comfortably squatting together in the shade of some fine tree, and seemed to intimate that this ground belonged to them, and that the foreigner, whoever he might be, ought to act discreetly. As for their dress, however, I almost suspected that, though very scanty, it was put on only for the occasion; for, on arriving at the first cluster of huts, we came abruptly upon a hollow with a pond of water, from which darted forth a very tall and stout bronze-coloured woman, totally naked, with her pitcher upon her head,—not only to my own amazement, but even to that of my horse, which, coming from the civilized country of Bórnu, which is likewise the seat of one of the blackest races in the interior, seemed to be startled by such a sight. However, I have observed that many of those simple tribes deem some sort of covering, however scanty it might be, more essential for the man than the woman.
We first directed our steps towards the western side of the village, where in a dense cluster of huts was the dwelling of the nominal “bíllama,” that is to say, of a man who, betraying his native country, had placed himself under the authority of the Bórnu people, in the hope that, with their assistance, he might gratify his ambition by becoming the tyrant of his compatriots. Here we met Íbrahíma, who with his countryman had arrived before us. Having obtained from the important bíllama a man who was to assign us quarters, we returned over the wide grassy plain towards the eastern group, while beyond the quarter which we were leaving I observed the sacred grove, of considerable circumference, formed by magnificent trees, mostly of the ficus tribe, and surrounded with an earthen wall.
At length we reached the eastern quarter; but the owners of the courtyards which were selected for our quarters, did not seem at all inclined to receive us. I had cheerfully entered with Bú-Sad the courtyard assigned to me, in order to take possession of it, and my servant had already dismounted, when its proprietor rushed furiously in, and, raising his spear in a most threatening attitude, ordered me to leave his house instantly. Acknowledging the justice of his claims to his own hearth, I did not hesitate a moment to obey his mandate; but I had some difficulty in persuading my servant to go away peaceably, as he was more inclined to shoot the man. This dwelling in particular was very neatly arranged; and I was well able to sympathize with the proprietor, who saw that his clean yard was to be made a stable and littered with dirt. The yards contained from five to seven huts, each of different size and arrangement, besides a shed, and gave plain indications of an easy and comfortable domestic life.
Bíllama, that is to say, my guide, who seemed not to have been more fortunate than myself in his endeavour to find a lodging, being rather crestfallen and dejected, we thought it best to give up all idea of sheltered quarters, and, trusting to our good luck, to encamp outside. We therefore drew back altogether from the inhabited quarter, into the open meadow, and dismounted beneath the wide-spreading shade of an immense kúka, or “bokki,” at least eighty feet high, the foliage of which being interwoven with numbers of climbing plants, such as I very rarely observed on this tree, formed a most magnificent canopy. While my tent was being pitched here, a number of natives collected round us, and squatting down in a semicircle eyed all my things very attentively, drawing each other’s attention to objects which excited their curiosity. They were all armed; and as there were from thirty to forty, and hundreds more might have come to their assistance in a moment, their company was not so agreeable as under other circumstances it might have been. The reason, however, why they behaved so inhospitably towards me evidently was, that they took me for an officer of the king of Bórnu: but this impression gave way the longer they observed my manners and things; indeed, as soon as they saw the tent, they became aware that it was not a tent like those of their enemies, and they came to the same conclusion with regard to the greater part of my luggage. In many places in Negroland I observed that the bipartite tent-pole was a most wonderful object to the natives, and often served to characterize the Christian. This time, however, we did not come to friendly terms; but the reader will be gratified to see how differently these people treated me on my return from Fúmbiná.
While our party was rather quietly and sullenly sitting near the tent, a number of Fúlbe, who had been staying in this district for some time, came to pay their respects to me. They were a very diminutive set of people, and, excepting general traits of resemblance and language, were unlike those proud fellow countrymen of theirs in the west; but I afterwards found that the Fúlbe in the eastern part of Ádamáwa are generally of this description, while those about the capital have a far more noble and dignified appearance. I think this may be not so much a mark of a difference of tribe, as a consequence of the low circumstances of those settled at a great distance from the seat of government, who, being still engaged in struggling for their subsistence, have not raised themselves from their original condition of humble cattle-breeders, or “berroróji,” to the proud rank of conquerors and religious reformers. Their colour certainly was not the characteristic rhubarb-colour of the Fúta Púllo, nor the deep black of the Toróde, but was a greyish sort of black, approaching what the Frenchmen call the chocolat-au-lait colour, while their small features wanted the expressiveness which those of the light Púllo generally have. They all wore shirts, which however were deficient in that cleanliness which in general is characteristic of this race. These simple visitors might perhaps have proved very interesting companions, if we had been able to understand each other; but as they spoke neither Arabic, nor Háusa, nor Kanúri, while I was but a beginner in their language, our conversation flowed but sluggishly.