Their emigration into these regions, at least several centuries ago, is certainly not without interest; and, as I have already had occasion to observe in another place, they preserve the characteristic type of their race very distinctly—a middle-sized, slender figure (which, however, is apt to become fuller as they advance in years), small pleasing features, and a dark olive complexion. Their dialect is very peculiar; and while it lays claim to a far greater purity than belongs to the dialects of the coast, by the profusion of vowels which it has preserved, its character is deteriorated, and becomes nearly ridiculous, by the continued repetition and insertion of certain words. A Shúwa is not able to say three words without inserting his favourite term “kúch, kúch,” which corresponds to the English word “thorough,” but which is not Arabic at all. When they omit the word “kúch,” they make use of another term, “bérketek,” “your worship,” which at once bears testimony to the servile and degraded position which they occupy in Negroland, although in Bórnu they are still treated with some indulgence and lenity, especially since the time when Mohammed Tiráb, the father of the present vizier, who belonged to the tribe of the Sálamát, attained the highest degree of power and influence in the country. In Wádáy again, even at the present time, they are treated very badly.
Of Kanúri people, besides a few smaller bodies of troops, only two officers, or kashéllas, ʿAlí Marghí and Jérma, were wanting. All the officers and bodies of troops on this side of the komádugu of Bórnu, the so-called Yeou, were collected together, the only exception being Kashélla Mánzo, my hospitable host in Zurríkulo, whose presence at his post was required on account of the Tuarek; for, as regards the officers and chiefs of the provinces on the other side of the komádugu, nobody is required to take part in these expeditions of the sheikh, every officer remaining at his post, except when his master enters upon a war in his own quarters.
While the encampment itself presented considerable interest, as being the temporary abode of so many people, the town of Díkowa, near which we were encamped, seemed well deserving some attention, as having been repeatedly the residence of the rulers of the country, and being still one of the largest towns in the kingdom. I therefore paid a visit to it in the afternoon of the second day of our stay, being accompanied by my friend Bíllama. We entered the town by the western gate; and I saw that the walls were about thirty feet high, and terraced on the inside like those of the capital, and of considerable breadth at the base: they were in a state of good repair. I was struck by the height and round shape of the huts, which entirely wanted the characteristic top, or, as the Kanúri people call it, kógi ngímbe, and were of the same kind as I had observed in the other towns of this southern province. Every hut had its little courtyard, in some of which vegetation was seen, mostly karás.
The further we proceeded, the more I was pleased with the general appearance of the town, the exterior of which had made a favourable impression upon me on our first arrival. Large, beautiful, wide-spreading fig-trees, ngábore, chédia or elastic gum-trees, and kórna-trees, spread their shade all around, and two or three isolated papaw-trees, or as the Kanúri call them, bambús-másarbe, with their remarkable feathery crowns and their smooth virgin-like stems, formed a lively contrast to the broad-leafed canopy of the other trees, while the hedges and fences of the courtyards were partly enlivened by a luxurious creeper called “dagdágel” by the natives. The real nucleus of the town seemed to consist entirely of clay houses.
After a very pleasant ride, we reached the house of the “maínta,” or governor, who still enjoys a certain degree of independence. The chief ornament of the place in front of his house was the most splendid caoutchouc-tree I have ever seen; indeed I can scarcely imagine that the diameter of its crown, which was so regularly and symmetrically shaped that it appeared as if effected by art, measured less than from seventy to eighty feet. It really formed a beautiful fáge, or, as the Háusa people call it, íchenbatú, or open council-hall, such as are common in these places; but at present no political business of any importance was transacted here, and it formed a favourite lounge for idle people, amongst whom there was a troop of musicians, playing lustily upon their instruments to console the petty chief for the loss of his former power, which had dwindled away to a mere shadow. I would gladly have paid him a visit; but, poor as I was at the time, and without a single article worthy of acceptance, I was rather glad that I was under no obligation to him. The interruption in the daily course of life of the inhabitants, by the presence of the army, was the more to be lamented, as it prevented me from becoming an eyewitness to the chief industry of the natives, which consists in weaving, and manufacturing into shirts, the cotton which they grow; for they are almost exclusively cotton-growers, and have very little corn. But, although they are able to produce a fine sort of texture, they are very badly off for dyeing, and in this respect are far outstripped by the inhabitants of Ujé and Mákari. Instead of the beating of shirts, which forms so pleasant a sound in many other industrial towns of Negroland, there was nothing to be heard but the sound which proceeded from the powder-mill, if I may be allowed to give this grand name to a yard in which eight slaves were employed in pounding powder in large wooden mortars; for this is the way in which powder is prepared in Negroland, and during my stay in Bagírmi every time I had my coffee pounded (as I did not possess a coffee-mill), I excited the suspicion that I was preparing powder. Of course the presence of the army was the reason why so little activity was to be seen at present, and the little market, or durríya, which is held in the afternoon, was very badly attended; but the size and populousness of the town made such an impression upon me, that I thought myself justified in rating the number of inhabitants at about twenty-five thousand.
Altogether I was so much pleased with the character of the place, that on expressing my satisfaction to one of the inhabitants who came to salute my companion, with the words, “Átema bílla ngílla” (“This is a fine town”), he replied, with conscious pride, “Áte bílla déka gení; áte bílla maíwa” (“This is not a country town; this is a royal residence”). We reached the gate on the north-west side of the town, just at the moment when ʿAbd eʾ Rahmán, the eldest brother of the Sheikh ʿOmár, arrived with a party of horsemen. What his business was I do not know; but before the expedition left the town, there had been a great many unfavourable rumours concerning his ambitious designs, and the malcontents expected that he would avail himself of this opportunity for striking a blow at the vizier, in order to prevent the expedition from proceeding against Mándará, as he himself was supposed to be on friendly terms with the chief of that country. But whatever may have been his intentions, he found his rival still too strong; and, after a friendly parting from his brother, he retraced his steps.
The view over the encampment, which presented itself when from the north I turned to the south-west side of the town, was extremely interesting; and I kept along the higher ground formed by the rubbish which had accumulated at the foot of the wall. Tents of every description and size—light sheds constructed with the long stalks of Indian corn, supported by four poles, and connected lightly at the top and forming high-topped gables—horses and men, all in the greatest confusion, presented a busy scene of animated life; but the place where our tents were pitched had become so confined, that I was glad to avail myself of any opportunity which presented itself of roving about in the neighbourhood.
The most attractive place was the komádugu, or watercourse, which passes at some distance to the south of the town, and is distinguished by the special name of Yálowe. It was a very charming spot, winding along through a rich and varied forest, bordered by an uninterrupted line of the finest fig-trees, principally of the kind called “ngábore.” The channel itself was only about forty yards wide, encompassed by banks of from twelve to fifteen feet in height, and at present it was not enlivened by a continuous stream, but contained several detached pools of stagnant water. Although the water was cool, and not disagreeable to the taste, still it was not very pure, and could not but contain the germs of much disease. This is the same komádugu with which, in its upper course in the territory of Ujé, I had become acquainted on my journey to Ádamáwa. The banks all around were enlivened by horses and pack-oxen, who were enjoying the rich verdure; and there was not a shady tree but had been taken possession of by a troop of Kánembú or Kanúri, in order to find that comfortable repose which the noisy encampment could not afford.
Having heard that the wealth of the inhabitants of Díkowa consisted of cotton, I expected to find extensive well-kept cotton-plantations; but, although the article was cultivated to a great extent, I was astonished at the neglected appearance which it exhibited, the cotton-fields being almost buried beneath the thicket, and overgrown not only with rank grass, but even with trees and bushes, so that scarcely any space was left for the plants to spread out; nevertheless their luxuriant growth bore ample testimony to the rich nature of the soil, and gave an idea of the wealth that lies buried in these regions. I have already observed, on another occasion, that the natives of Negroland take very little care of their cotton-plantations; and there is no doubt that, if sufficient care was bestowed, quite a different quality might be produced.
I roved about in this wild and fertile region till I was entirely hemmed in by an impenetrable thicket. While returning hence to our encampment by a more westerly path, I was ruminating in my mind how the former rulers of this country had evinced so much more feeling for the bounty and beauty of nature than its present possessors; for, while these have chosen for their residence the most monotonous district of the empire, the former selected those parts which nature itself had embellished—the shores of the so-called Yeou, or the komádugu Wáube, and this fine watercourse of Díkowa; and they not only chose the most interesting spots, but they even embellished them by art, as the large artificial basins in the neighbourhood of Ghasréggomo, Ghámbarú, and Dámasak amply testify. In this respect it is not uninteresting that we are informed by the Imám Áhmed, the historian of the King Edrís Alawóma, that his master, when he visited the town of Fíka, could not forego the pleasure of paying a visit to the famous little alpine lake which lies at some distance from that town. Although the country of Bórnu is far from being the most favoured part of Negroland, yet the shores of these watercourses are very rich indeed, and capable of maintaining a numerous population.