Monday, Jan. 5.—It was at a very early hour on Monday morning, a little after midnight, when the guide of the expedition came to my tent, and, while I was just dreaming of the rocky mountain of the Túburi, whispered in my ear that a distant expedition was to be undertaken that very day, but not into the country of the Túburi, and that the baggage was to remain here. Although I should rather have preferred visiting the latter tract, situated at the north-eastern branch of the basin of the Niger, I nevertheless was determined not to let any opportunity pass by of extending my geographical knowledge as much as possible, and therefore ordered my horse to be saddled. Mr. Overweg meanwhile, when he heard that the vizier was not to lead the expedition in person, but that the young Bú-Bakr, son of the sheikh, was to take the command, remained behind; and as I had no mounted servant, and could not expect that a man on foot would accompany me to a great distance, I was obliged to go quite alone. Meanwhile the bugles of Bú-Bakr called the warriors together with a soft subdued sound, in order not to allow treachery to spread the news of their plan beforehand. Having passed with some difficulty the narrow gate of the stockade, the expeditionary army formed outside, when we pushed on in a north-easterly direction. But Nature has provided so well for the defence of these poor pagans, that they are not easily taken by surprise.
We succeeded, with the dawn of day, in passing the first broad sheet of water of the wide “ngáljam” of Wúliya, but found great difficulty in passing another water with a deep, argillaceous soil of so boggy a nature that several of the horses fell, even those whose riders had dismounted; and I felt not a little anxiety on account of my own restless and fiery horse, which was snorting like a hippopotamus. At length we left also this morass behind us, and indulged in the hope of having overcome every difficulty, when suddenly we had before us another and far deeper water, which delayed us for a long time. But bad as was our situation whilst we were thus sticking fast in the mud, I could scarcely help laughing heartily, as this very delay enabled the poor pagans to escape with their wives and property to a place of safety. As for most of the horses, the water went over their backs, while I on my stately charger had the water three inches above my knee. A courageous enemy, led on by a clever commander, might at this moment have easily captured most of the horses, and put all the host to flight. At length, after two hours’ exertion, we emerged from this broad sheet of water, which, when full, must present the appearance of an extensive central lake three or four miles in breadth, and many more in length, and now entered upon green pasture-ground, which, however, during the highest state of the inundation is itself under water. Here the army divided into three bodies, and pushed on vigorously, although a great many had retraced their steps upon seeing the deep water.
Proceeding in this way, we reached the first hamlets, and here formed a regular line of battle, while the greater part of the army rushed on in advance, at the sound of the drum and the horns of the kashéllas, to see if there was anything left for them; but all the inhabitants had made their escape. Another delay occurred owing to one of the followers of Bú-Bakr falling into a ditch or hollow twelve feet in depth and the same in breadth, from which he was extricated with some difficulty, while the horse died on the spot. But there was plenty of leisure, the pagans having long ago had sufficient time to make their escape beyond the river. If those simple people had followed the same stratagem which the Bórnu people employ against the Tuarek, digging a quantity of holes and covering them over with bushes, they might have done a great deal of mischief to the cavalry.
This whole tract of country still belongs to the extensive district of Wúliya; but the villages have separate names, which, owing to the unfortunate circumstances under which I visited the country, I was not able to learn. Having passed a considerable village, we reached, a little before eleven o’clock, the furthermost line which the waters of the river Serbéwuel attain during its highest state of inundation, while when they recede they leave extensive ponds of stagnant water behind, which nourish a rich supply of the most succulent herbage. The shore was here about eight feet high, while at the other point, where we had visited the river a few days previously, it was not so well marked. Of course, where the inner shore consists of steeper banks, so that the river does not rise over the higher level to a considerable height, the outward shore cannot be marked so distinctly.
About thirteen hundred yards beyond this grassy outward shore we reached the inner bank of the river, which consisted of sand, and was here only ten feet high. The river at present was confined to this bank, running at this spot from S. 25° E.; but a little lower down it changed its direction, running west by north. Higher up, the opposite shore was richly overgrown with trees, among which deléb- and dúm-palms were conspicuous; but no villages were to be seen, although a place named Kár is said to lie on the eastern shore. The reason we had directed our march to this point seemed to be, that the river is here rather broad, being about eight hundred yards across, and forming a large sandbank, so that my friends had entertained the hope that they would be enabled to ford it, which in some years, when the rains have not been very considerable, may be possible at this season, and even this year might probably be effected in two months’ time. But at present this was not the case, and the rapacious Shúwa Arabs were hurrying about in despair, to and fro, between the island and the western shore.
I too took the direction of the island, as the most interesting point, although I became aware that it was not possible to penetrate further on. The first branch of the river on this side of the island, which was the broader of the two, was not more than from eighteen to nineteen inches deep, and could not but become dry in a short time, when the island, or rather sandbank, should form the knee of the bend of the river; but the eastern branch, though apparently only about one hundred and twenty or one hundred and thirty yards broad, seemed to be of considerable depth, running along with a strong current, and my old friend Abú Dáúd, one of the principal Shúwa chiefs, whom I encountered at the southern point of the sandbank, with a sad countenance, indicated the whole nature of this stream with the laconic and significant expression, “Yákul” (“It eats”),—that is to say, it is not fordable.
It would have been the more dangerous to attempt to force the passage, as the opposite shore, which was so near, and only four feet high, was occupied by a number of stalwart pagans, who mocked at our inability to cross the river, and seemed to be quite ready to receive in a satisfactory manner anybody who should make the attempt. It would have been easy to have blown away these people, and thus to clear the place of descent; but for such an undertaking my friends had not sufficient courage or energy. I did not see a single Kanúri on the island, but only Shúwa, who always expose themselves to the greatest risk, and push on the furthest. The pagans had not only occupied the opposite bank, but even kept afloat four canoes at some distance above the island, in order to run down, with the assistance of the current, any one who should dare to cross the river. Three of these canoes were small; but the fourth was of a larger size, and manned by ten Músgu.
These canoes were the only craft visible on the river, and probably constituted the whole naval force of these pagans. Of course in a country politically rent into so many petty principalities, where every little community, as in ancient times in Latium and Greece, forms a separate little state in opposition to its neighbours, no considerable intercourse is possible, and those natural highroads with which Nature has provided these countries, and the immense field therefore which is open in these regions to human industry and activity, must remain unproductive under such circumstances; but it will be turned to account as soon as the restless spirit of the European shall bring these countries within the sphere of his activity. This period must come. Indeed I am persuaded that in less than fifty years European boats will keep up a regular annual intercourse between the great basin of the Tsád and the Bay of Biyáfra.
An almost uninterrupted communication has been opened by Nature herself; for, from the mouth of the Kwára to the confluence of the river Bénuwé with the Máyo Kébbi, there is a natural passage navigable without further obstruction for boats of about four feet in depth, and the Máyo Kébbi itself, in its present shallow state, seems to be navigable for canoes, or flat-bottomed boats like those of the natives, which I have no doubt may, during the highest state of the inundation, go as far as Dáwa in the Túburi country, where Dr. Vogel was struck by that large sheet of water which to him seemed to be an independent central lake, but which is in reality nothing but a widening of the upper part of the Máyo Kébbi.
It is very probable that from this place there may be some other shallow watercourse, proceeding to join the large ngáljam of Démmo, so that there would exist a real bifurcation between the basin of the Niger and that of the Tsád. But even if this should not be the case, the breadth of the water-parting between these two basins at the utmost cannot exceed twenty miles, consisting of an entirely level flat, and probably of alluvial soil, while the granitic region attached to that isolated rocky mountain which I have mentioned above may, most probably, be turned without difficulty. The level of the Tsád and that of the river Bénuwé near Géwe, where it is joined by the Máyo Kébbi, seem to be almost identical; at least, according to all appearance, the Bénuwé at the place mentioned is not more than eight hundred and fifty or nine hundred feet above the level of the sea. All this bounty of Nature will, I trust, one day be turned to account, though many changes must take place in this country before a regular and peaceful intercourse can be established. The very scenes which I witnessed are an unmistakable proof of the misery into which these regions are plunged.