He was the envy of all the great men, from the Sultan of Bagírmi to the chiefs of the Tademékket and Awelímmiden, near Timbúktu. His colour was a shade of grey, with beautiful light leopard-like spots; and the Kanúri were not unanimous with regard to the name which they gave it, some calling it “shéggará,” while others thought the name “kerí sassarándi” more suitable to it. In the company of mares he was incapable of walking quietly, but kept playing in order to show himself off to advantage. The Bórnu horses in general are very spirited and fond of prancing. He was an excellent “kerísa” or marcher, and “doy” or swift in the extreme, but very often lost his start by his playfulness. Of his strength, the extent of the journeys which he made with me bears ample testimony, particularly if the warlike, scientific, and victualling stores which I used to carry with me are taken into account. He was a “ngírma,” but not of the largest size. Mr. Overweg’s horse was almost half a hand higher; but, while mine was a lion in agility, my companion’s horse was not unlike a hippopotamus in plumpness.
With such a horse I prepared cheerfully for my next expedition, which I regarded in the light both of an undertaking in the interests of science, and as a medicinal course for restoring my health, which threatened to succumb in the unhealthy region of Kúkawa. Besides two Fezzáni lads, I had taken into my service two Arabs belonging to the tribe of the Welád Slimán, and whose names were Bú-Zéd and Hasén ben Hár.
CHAPTER XXXIX
EXPEDITION TO KÁNEM.
Thursday, Sept. 11.—Having decided upon leaving the town in advance of the Arabs, in order to obtain leisure for travelling slowly the first few days, and to accustom my feeble frame once more to the fatigues of a continual march, after a rest of forty days in the town, I ordered my people to get my luggage ready in the morning. I had plenty of provisions, such as zummíta, dwéda or vermicelli, mohámsa, and nákia, a sort of sweetmeat made of rice with butter and honey; two skins of each quality. All was stowed away with the little luggage I intended taking with me on this adventurous journey, in two pairs of large leathern bags or kéwa, which my two camels were to carry. When all was ready, I went to the vizier, in order to take leave of him and arrange with my former servant, Mohammed ben Sʿad, to whom I owed thirty-five dollars. Háj Beshír, as usual, was very kind and amiable; but as for my former servant, having not a single dollar in cash, I was obliged to give him a bill upon Fezzán, for seventy-five dollars. There was also a long talk on the subject of an enormous debt due to the Fezzáni merchant Mohammed eʾ Sfáksi; and as it was not possible to settle it at once, I was obliged to leave its definite arrangement to Mr. Overweg.
All this disagreeable business, which is so killing to the best hours, and destroys half the energy of the traveller, had retarded my departure so long that the sun was just setting when I left the gate of the town. My little caravan was very incomplete; for my only companion on emerging from the gate into the high waving fields of Guinea-corn, which entirely concealed the little suburb, was an unfortunate young man whom I had not hired at all, my three hired servants having stayed behind on some pretext or other. This lad was Mohammed ben Áhmed, a native of Fezzán, whom I wanted to hire, or rather hired, in Gúmmel, in March last, for two Spanish dollars a month, but who, having been induced, by his companions in the caravan with which he had just arrived from the north, to forego the service of a Christian, had broken his word, and gone on with the caravan of the people from Sókna, leaving me with only one useful servant. But he had found sufficient leisure to repent of his dishonourable conduct, for, having been at the verge of the grave in Kanó, and being reduced to the utmost misery, he came to Kúkawa, begging my pardon, and entreating my compassion; and, after some expostulation, I allowed him to stay without hiring him, and it was only on seeing his attachment to me in the course of time, that I afterwards granted him a dollar a month, and he did not obtain two dollars till my leaving Zínder, in January 1853, on my way to Timbúktu, when I was obliged to augment the salary of all my people. This lad followed me with my two camels.
All was fertility and vegetation, though these fields near the capital are certainly not the best situated in Bórnu. I felt strengthened by the fresh air, and followed the eastern path, which did not offer any place for an encampment. Looking round, I saw at length two of my men coming towards us, and found to the left of the track, on a little sandy eminence, a convenient spot for pitching my tent. I felt happy in having left the monotony and closeness of the town behind me. Nothing in the world makes me feel happier than a wide, open country, a commodious tent, and a fine horse. But I was not quite comfortable; for, having forgotten to close my tent, I was greatly annoyed by the mosquitoes, which prevented my getting any sleep. The lake being very near, the dew was so heavy that next morning my tent was as wet as if it had been soaked with water.
Friday, Sept. 12.—Notwithstanding these inconveniences, I awoke in the morning with a grateful heart, and cared little about the flies, which soon began to attack me. I sat down outside the tent to enjoy my liberty: it was a fine morning, and I sat for hours tranquilly enjoying the most simple landscape (the lake not being visible, and scarcely a single tree in sight) which a man can fancy. But all was so quiet, and bespoke such serenity and content, that I felt quite happy and invigorated. I did not think about writing, but idled away the whole day. In the evening my other man came, and brought me a note from Mr. Overweg, addressed to me “in campo caragæ Æthiopiensis” (karága means wilderness).
Saturday, Sept. 13.—I decided late in the morning, when the dew had dried up a little, upon moving my encampment a short distance, but had to change my path for a more westerly one, on account of the large swampy ponds, formed at the end of the rainy season in the concavity at the foot of the sandhills of Dawerghú. The vegetation is rich during this season, even in this monotonous district. Having at length entered the corn, or rather millet-fields of Dawerghú, we soon ascended the sandhills, where the whole character of the landscape is altered; for, while the dum-bush almost ceases, the rétem, Spartium monospermum, is the most common botanical ornament of the ground where the cultivation of the fields has left a free spot, whilst fine specimens of the mimosa break the monotony of the fields. Having passed several clusters of cottages forming an extensive district, I saw to the right an open space descending towards a green sheet of water, filling a sort of valley or hollow where, a short time afterwards, when the summer harvest is over, the peculiar sort of sorghum called másakwá is sown. Being shaded by some fine acacias, the spot was very inviting, and, feeling already tired, sick and weak as I was, though after a journey of only two hours, I determined to remain there during the heat of the day. I had scarcely stretched myself on the ground, when a man brought me word that a messenger, sent by Ghét, the chief of the Welád Slimán, had passed by with the news that this wandering and marauding tribe had left Búrgu and returned to Kánem. This was very unpleasant news, as, from all that I had heard, it appeared to me that Búrgu must be an interesting country, at least as much so as Asben or Aír, being favoured by deep valleys and ravines, and living sources of fine water, and producing, besides great quantities of excellent dates, even grapes and figs, at least in some favoured spots.