The country continued rugged and rocky, though it was occasionally interrupted by cultivated ground, and a mountain group of interesting form, called Kónkel, stood out on our right.
Having entered at eight o’clock upon cultivated ground of great extent, we reached a quarter of an hour afterwards Bélem, the residence of Mʿallem Dalíli, a man whom I had heard much praised in Saráwu. Bíllama wished to spend the day here, but I was very anxious to proceed, as we had already lost the preceding day; but at the same time I desired to make the acquaintance of, and to pay my respects to, a person whom every one praised for his excellent qualities. I therefore sent forward the camels with the men on foot, while I myself entered the village with the horsemen. Crossing a densely inhabited quarter, we found the mʿallem sitting under a tree in his courtyard, a venerable and benevolent-looking old man, in a threadbare blue shirt and a green “báki-n-záki.” We had scarcely paid our respects to him, and he had asked a few general questions in Arabic, when an Arab adventurer from Jedda, with the title of sheríf, who had roved a good deal about the world, made his appearance, and was very inquisitive to know the motives which had carried me into this remote country; and Bú-Sʿad thought it prudent to pique his curiosity, by telling him that we had come to search for the gold and silver in the mountains. Old Mʿallem Dalíli soon after began to express himself to the effect that he should feel offended if I would not stay with him till the afternoon; and I was at length obliged to send for the camels, which had already gone on a good way.
A rather indifferent lodging being assigned to me, I took possession of the shade of a rími, or béntehi,—the bentang-tree of Mungo Park (Eriodendron Guineense), of rather small size, and there tried to resign myself quietly to the loss of another day, while in truth I burned with impatience to see the river which was the first and most important object of my journey. However, my quarters soon became more interesting to me, as I observed here several peculiarities of arrangement, which, while they were quite new to me, were most characteristic of the equatorial regions which I was approaching. For while in Bórnu and Háusa it is the general custom to expose the horses, even very fine ones, to all changes of the weather,—which on the whole are not very great,—in these regions, where the wet season is of far longer duration and the rains much heavier, it is not prudent to leave the animals unsheltered, and stables are built for them on purpose,—round spacious huts with unusually high clay walls; these are called “debbíru” by the Fúlbe of Ádamáwa, from the Háusa word “débbi.” Even for the cattle there was here a stable, but more airy, consisting only of a thatched roof supported by thick poles, and enclosed with a fence of thorny bushes.
The vegetation in the place was very rich, and an experienced botanist might have found many new species of plants, while to me the most remarkable circumstance was the quantity of Palma Christi scattered about the place, a single specimen of the gónda-tree, and the first specimen of a remarkable plant which I had not observed before on my travels,—a smooth soft stem about ten inches thick at the bottom, and shooting up to a height of about twenty-five feet, but drawn downwards and inclined by the weight and size of its leaves, which measured six feet in length and about twenty inches in breadth. The Háusa people gave it the name “alléluba,” a name generally given to quite a different tree which I have mentioned in speaking of Kanó. The plant bears some resemblance to the Musa, or banana; fruits or flowers it had none at present.
I had been roving about for some time when the sheríf, whom I mentioned above, came to pay me a visit, when I learned that he had come to this place by way of Wadáy and Logón, and that he had been staying here already twenty days, being engaged in building a warm bath for the mʿallem, as he had also done for the sultan of Wadáy.
The reader sees that these wandering Arabs are introducing civilization into the very heart of this continent, and it would not be amiss if they could all boast of such accomplishments; but this rarely happens. Even this very man was a remarkable example of these saintly adventurers so frequently met with in Negroland, but who begin to tire out the patience of the more enlightened princes of the country. He brought me a lump of native home-made soap, with which, as he said, I might “wash my clothes, as I came from the dirty, soapless country of Bórnu.” This present was not ill-selected, although I hope that the reader will not thence conclude that I was particularly dirty,—at least, not more so than an African traveller might be fairly expected to be. I had laid in a good store of cloves, which, as I have had already occasion to mention, are highly esteemed here, so I made him very happy by giving him about half-a-pound weight of them.
More interesting, however, to me than the visit of this wandering son of the East was the visit of two young native noblemen, sons of the Ardo Jídda, to whom belongs the country between Sugúr and Wándalá or Mándará, and the younger of whom was a remarkably handsome man, of slender form, light complexion, and a most agreeable expression of countenance. This, however, is a remark which I have often made on my travels, that the males among the Fúlbe are very handsome till they reach the age of about twenty years, when they gradually assume an apish expression of countenance, which entirely spoils the really Circassian features which they have in early life. As for the females, they preserve their beauty much longer. While these young men were giving unrestrained vent to their admiration of my things, the old mʿallem came with a numerous suite of attendants; whereupon they drew shyly back, and sat silently at a distance. In this part of the world there is a great respect for age.
The mʿallem and his companions were not only astonished at my instruments, but manifested much curiosity about the map of Africa, which I unfolded before their eyes, being greatly struck by the extent of the continent towards the south, of which they had previously no idea. I shall show in another part of this work how far the Fúlbe have become acquainted with the regions about the equator, and how a faint rumour of the strong pagan kingdom of Muropúwe has spread over the kingdoms of North Central Africa. Their esteem for me increased when I showed them my little Prayer-Book, which I wore in a red case slung round my shoulders, just as they wear their Kurán; indeed a Christian can never be more sure of acquiring the esteem of a Moslim—at least of a learned one—than when he shows himself impressed with the sentiments of his religion; but he must not be a zealous Roman Catholic, nor broach doctrines which seem to deny the Unity of God. He took great delight in hearing a psalm of the well-known “nebí Dáúd” (David) read in English. He, as well as almost all his companions, spoke Arabic; for, as Saráwu Beréberé is a colony of Bórnu people, Bélem is a pure Arabic colony, that is to say, a colony of the Sálamát, a tribe widely scattered over Bórnu and Wadáy. Mʿallem Óro, or, as he is popularly called, on account of his humility and devotedness, Mʿallem Dalíli, was born in Wadáy, but settled in Bórnu, from whence at the time of the conquest of the country by the Fúlbe or Felláta (in the year 1808) he fled to avoid famine and oppression, like so many other unfortunate inhabitants of that kingdom, and founded a village in this promising region. This is the country for colonies, and I do not see why a colony of the liberated slaves of Sierra Leone might not be advantageously established here. All these people wear indigo-coloured shirts, and in this manner, even by their dress, are distinguished from the Fúlbe. They are tolerated and protected, although a Púllo head man has his residence here, besides the mʿallem.