Monday having passed quietly, with the exception of a great many people calling for “laiya” or charms, and for medicines, Tuesday the 24th arrived, when it was my destiny to leave this country, which I had but just entered, and to retrace my steps over the long and infested road which I had lately travelled.
I felt tolerably well in the morning, but afterwards became very ill, and unfortunately took too weak a dose of medicine. In this state I had a visit from two very handsome and amiable young Fúlbe, and in my rather morose mood refused their urgent request, made in the most simple and confidential way, to say the “fat-ha,” or the opening prayer of the Kurán, with them. I have always regretted my refusal, as it estranged from me a great many people; and although many Christians will object to repeat the prayer of another creed, yet the use of a prayer of so general an import as the introductory chapter to the Kurán ought to be permitted to every solitary traveller in these regions, in order to form a sort of conciliatory link between him and the natives.
After some other visitors had come and gone, I received, about ten o’clock, a formal visit from Móde ʿAbdalláhi, the foreign secretary, and my friend from Mokha, in the name of the governor. Having moistened their organs with a cup of coffee, they acquitted themselves of their message in the following terms: “The sultan”—all these provincial governors bear the title of sultan—“had ordered them,” they said, “to beg me to accept his most respectful regards, and to inform me that he was nothing but a slave of the sultan of Sókoto, and that I was a far greater man than himself. As such a man had never before come to his country, he was afraid of his liege lord, and begged me to retrace my steps whither I had come; but if in course of time I should return with a letter from Sókoto, he would receive me with open arms, would converse with me about all our science, and about our instruments, without reserve, and would show me the whole country.”
To this message, which was certainly couched in very modest and insinuating terms, I answered that Mohammed Láwl, so far from being a slave of the sultan of Sókoto, was renowned far and wide as the almost independent governor of a large province; that the fame of his father Ádama, as a nobly born, learned Púllo, extended far and wide throughout Tekrúr, or Negroland, and had even reached our own country; that it was absurd to argue that I was greater than himself, and that on this account he could not receive me on his own responsibility, but was obliged to refer my suit to his liege lord in Sókoto. I brought forward the examples of Kátsena and Kanó, especially the latter place, in which, though it was the seat of a governor dependent on the Emír el Múmenín, in the same way as the governor of Ádamáwa, I had long resided, without any representations being made to the sovereign lord. “Oh! but the relations of Kátsena and Kanó,” said the messengers of the governor, “are entirely different from those of this province. These are large and busy thoroughfares for all the world, while Ádamáwa is a distant territory in the remotest corner of the earth, and still a fresh unconsolidated conquest.” There was certainly some truth in this last remark; and whatever I might say to the contrary, the question was decided, and all reasoning was vain.
The two messengers having gone through their business in this way, informed me that they were only the forerunners of the real messenger, Mansúr, the brother of the governor. This was very pleasant news to me; and although, after this shock of disappointment, I felt extremely ill and weak, I rose from my couch, and went to receive Mansúr when he arrived at the door of the hut. He then officially, and in a very feeling manner, confirmed all that Móde ʿAbdalláhi and the sheríf Mohammed had said, and expressed his deep regret that I was not allowed to stay. When he was going, I handed to his servants the little present destined for him, which consisted of twenty-five drʿa of striped Manchester, a pair of English razors, scissors, a looking-glass, a parcel of cloves, a little jáwi, or benzoin, and a small piece of camphor.
Mansúr had been gone a little while when I received information that the governor had sent me a horse and two slaves as a present, with the intimation that I might likewise let him have the present which I had brought with me for him. But this I refused to do, declaring that I could not, under the present circumstances, either accept from him or give him anything, not having come as a merchant, to barter with him, but as the messenger of another powerful sovereign, to treat with him on friendly terms. My servant, Bú-Sʿad, who, in the covetousness of his heart, already fancied himself in the possession of the two slaves, whom he knew well I myself could not accept, but whom he thought I would give up to him, went so far as to declare that, as the present had come from my sovereign, I had no alternative but to bestow it. But seeing that I was firm, the messengers went away, and soon after a horseman arrived with the order for me to leave the town instantly.
Meanwhile, during all this negotiation and dispute, I had become extremely weak, and the excitement had brought on a very severe fit of fever. Indeed, I scarcely thought that I should be able to sit on horseback, and to bear the sun, it being then just noon, and the sun shining forth with great power. Nevertheless I got my things ready; but having left my quarters a little too soon, and being obliged to wait some time for the other people, I became so weak that I could no longer keep on my feet, but lay down on the ground till my companions arrived. Sitting then firmly in my large Arab stirrups, and holding on to the pommel, I proceeded; and though I fainted twice, I soon regained some strength, a slight breeze having arisen, which greatly mitigated the burning heat.
Numbers of people accompanied me, expressing their grief and sorrow at my abrupt departure. By my refusing to write laiya, or to say the fat-ha, I had estranged many a friendly disposed native, and by my obstinacy I had incurred the displeasure of their master; yet many of the people openly disapproved of his conduct towards me.
An immense quantity of rain having fallen during my stay here, the country appeared to me much more beautiful now than when we came, and full of fine cattle; and I felt so refreshed that I considered myself able to go as far as Ribágo, a ride of six hours, at a slow rate.
Bíllama behaved exceedingly well; for when my treacherous servant Bú-Sʿad, who was afraid lest Mohammed Láwl should wreak his anger upon me on the road, intimated to him that, “if anything of that sort should happen, they of course were Moslemín”—thus indicating that they could not defend me against those of their own creed, but should leave me to my fate,—he indignantly left his company, and rode up to me. Thus, without any accident, except that all my luggage was once more wetted through while passing the deep water of the Máyo Bínti, we reached the friendly village, where without ceremony I took up my quarters in the well-known courtyard of our former host. But, before proceeding further on my journey back, I must try to make the reader better acquainted with the country, though the abrupt way in which I was obliged to leave it allows me only, in most cases, to speak from the information of the natives.