But the circumstances connected with this attack were so curious that I must relate them, in a few words. The rain, which had wetted all our things, and made us anxious about our instruments and arms, seemed to abate; and Overweg and I decided, the very day preceding the attack in question, on cleaning our guns and pistols, which had been loaded for some time; and having cleaned them, and wishing to dry them well, we did not load them again immediately. In the afternoon we had a visit from two well-dressed men, mounted on mehára; they did not beg for anything, but inspected the tents very attentively, making the remark that our tent was as strong as a house, while Mr. Richardson’s was light and open at the bottom.
The moon shed a splendid light over the interesting wilderness, and our black servants being uncommonly cheerful and gay that night, music and dancing were going on in the village, and they continued playing till a very late hour, when they fell asleep. Going the round of our encampment before I went to lie down, I observed at a little distance a strange camel, or rather méheri, kneeling quietly down with its head towards our tents. I called my colleagues, and expressed my suspicion that all was not right; but our light-hearted and frivolous servant Mohammed calmed my uneasiness by pretending that he had seen the camel there before, though that was not true. Still I had some sad foreboding, and, directing my attention unluckily to the wrong point, caused our sheep to be tied close to our tent.
Being uneasy, I did not sleep soundly, and a little after two o’clock I thought I heard a very strange noise, just as if a troop of people were marching with a steady step round our tents, and muttering in a jarring voice. Listening anxiously for a moment, I felt sure that there were people near the tent, and was about to rush out; but again, on hearing the sound of music proceeding from the village, I persuaded myself that the noise came from thence, and lay down to slumber, when suddenly I heard a louder noise, as if several men were rushing up the hill, and, grasping a sword and calling aloud for our people, I jumped out of the tent; but there was nobody to be seen. Going then round the hill to Mr. Richardson’s tent, I met him coming out half-dressed, and begging me to pursue the robbers, who had carried away some of his things. Some of his boxes were dragged out of the tent, but not emptied. None of his servants were to be seen except Sʿaid, all the rest having run away without even giving an alarm; so that all of us might have been murdered.
But immediately after this accident we received the distinct assurance of protection both from the Sultan of Ágades and from the great mʿallem Azóri; and I began to plan my excursion to Ágades more definitely, and entered into communication with the chief on this point. Meanwhile I collected a great deal of information about the country, partly from a Tawáti of the name of ʿAbd el Káder (not the same who accompanied us on the road from Ghát), and partly from some of the Tinýlkum, who, having left us the day after our arrival in Tin-téllust, had dispersed all over the country, some pasturing their camels in the most favoured localities, others engaged in little trading speculations, and paying us a visit every now and then. Small caravans came and went, and among them one from Sudán, with its goods laden almost entirely on pack-oxen—a most cheerful sight, filling our hearts with the utmost delight, as we were sure that we had now passed those dreary deserts where nothing but the persevering and abstemious camel can enable man to maintain communications. At length, then, we were enabled to write to Government, and to our friends in Europe, assuring them that we had now overcome, apparently, most of the difficulties which appeared likely to oppose our progress, and that we felt justified in believing that we had now fairly entered upon the road which would lead directly to the attainment of the objects of the expedition.
With regard to our provisions, Overweg and I were at first rather ill off, while Mr. Richardson, although he had been obliged to supply food on the road to troops both of friends and foes, had still a small remnant of the considerable stores which he had laid in at Múrzuk. We had been led to expect that we should find no difficulty in procuring all necessaries, and even a few luxuries, in Asben (and carriage was so dear that we were obliged to rely upon these promises); but we were now sadly disappointed. After a few days, however, the inhabitants being informed that we were in want of provisions, and were ready to buy, brought us small quantities of Guinea corn, butter—the botta (or box made of rough hide, in the way common over almost the whole of Central Africa) for two or two and a half mithkáls—and even a little fresh cheese; we were also able to buy two or three goats, and by sending Ibrahím, who had now recovered from his guineaworm, to Ásodi, where provisions are always stored up in small quantities, we obtained a tolerable camel-load of durra or sorghum.
But I could not relish this grain at all, and as I was not able to introduce any variety into my diet, I suffered much; hence it was fortunate for me that I went to Ágades, where my food was more varied, and my health consequently improved. I afterwards became accustomed to the various preparations of sorghum and Pennisetum, particularly the asída or túvo, and found that no other food is so well adapted for a hot climate; but it requires a great deal of labour to prepare it well, and this of course is a difficult matter for a European traveller, who has no female slave or partner to look after his meals. Our food during our stay in Asben was so ill prepared (being generally quite bitter, owing to the husk not being perfectly separated from the grain) that no native of the country would taste it.
Meanwhile my negotiation with the chief, with regard to my going to Ágades, which I managed as silently and secretly as possible, went on prosperously; and on the 30th of September I took my leave of him, having with me on the occasion a present for himself, worth about eighty riyáls, or eleven pounds sterling, and the presents intended for the Sultan of Ágades, in order that he might see what they were and express his opinion upon them; and I was greatly pleased to find that he was satisfied with both. He promised me perfect safety, although the undertaking looked a little dangerous, and had a letter written to ʿAbd el Káder (or, in the popular form, Kádiri—this was the name of the new Sultan), wherein he recommended me to him in the strongest terms, and enumerated the presents I meant to offer him.
But as soon as my intention transpired, all the people, uninvited as well as invited, hastened to give me their best advice, and to dissuade me from embarking in an undertaking which would certainly be my ruin. Conspicuous among these motley counsellors was a son of Háj ʿAbdúwa, the presumptive heir of Ánnur, who conjured me to abandon my design. These people, indeed, succeeded in frightening Yusuf Mákni, Mr. Richardson’s interpreter, whom the latter wished to send with me; but as for myself, I knew what I was about, and had full confidence in the old chief’s promise, and was rather glad to get rid of Mákni, whom I well knew to be a clever but no less malicious and intriguing person. With difficulty I persuaded Mohammed, our Tunisian shushán, to accompany me; and I also succeeded in hiring Amánkay, Mr. Richardson’s active black Búzu servant, who, however, on this trip proved utterly useless, as we had no sooner set out than he began to suffer from his old complaint of guineaworm, and was the whole time too lame for service.
I then arranged with Hámma, Ánnur’s son-in-law, under whose especial protection I was to undertake my journey, but whom I had to pay separately. I gave him the value of eleven mithkáls, or about one pound sterling, for himself, and hired from him two camels, each for six mithkáls. After various delays, which, however, enabled me to send off two more of my journals, together with letters, to Múrzuk, by the hand of a half-caste Kél-owí of the name of Báwa Amákita, our departure was definitively fixed for the 4th of October.