About sunset the “serkí-n-turáwa,” or consul of the Arabs, came to pay his regards to Elaíji, and introduced the subject of a present, which, as he conceived, I ought to make to the governor of the town as a sort of passage-money; my protector, however, would not listen to the proposal, but merely satisfied his visitor’s curiosity by calling me into his presence and introducing him to me. The serkí was very showily and picturesquely dressed—in a green and white striped tobe, wide trousers of a speckled pattern and colour, like the plumage of the Guinea-fowl, with an embroidery of green silk in front of the legs. Over this he wore a gaudy red bernús, while round his red cap a red and white turban was wound crosswise in a very neat and careful manner. His sword was slung over his right shoulder by means of thick hangers of red silk ornamented with enormous tassels. He was mounted on a splendid charger, the head and neck of which was most fancifully ornamented with a profusion of tassels, bells, and little leather pockets containing charms, while from under the saddle a shabrack peeped out, consisting of little triangular patches in all the colours of the rainbow.
This little African dandy received me with a profusion of the finest compliments, pronounced with the most refined and sweet accent of which the Háusa language is capable. When he was gone my old friend Elaíji informed me that he had prevented the “consul of the Arabs” from exacting a present from me, and begged me to acknowledge his service by a cup of coffee, which of course I granted him with all my heart. Poor old Elaíji! He died in the year 1854, in the forest between Gazáwa and Kátsena, where from the weakness of age he lost his way when left alone. He has left on my memory an image which I shall always recall with pleasure. He was certainly the most honourable and religious man among the Kél-owí.
The market in our encampment, which continued till nightfall, reached its highest pitch at sunset, when the people of the town brought ready-made “túwo,” each dish, with rather a small allowance, selling for three kurdí, or not quite the fourth part of a farthing. I, however, was happy in not being thrown upon this three-kurdí supper; and while I indulged in my own home-made dish, Gajére entertained me with the narrative of a nine days’ siege, which the warlike inhabitants of Gazáwa had sustained, ten years previously, against the whole army of the famous Bello.
Sunday, Jan. 19.—We remained encamped, and my day was most agreeably and usefully spent in gathering information with regard to the regions which I had just entered. There was first Maʿadi, the slave of Ánnur, a native of Bórnu, who when young had been made prisoner by the Búdduma of the lake, and had resided three years among these interesting people, till having fallen into the hands of the Welád Slimán, then in Kánem, he at length, on the occasion of the great expedition of the preceding year, had fallen into the power of the Kél-owí. Although he owed the loss of his liberty to the freebooting islanders, he was nevertheless a great admirer of theirs, and a sincere vindicator of their character. He represented them as a brave and high-spirited people, who made glorious and successful inroads upon the inhabitants of the shores of the lake with surprising celerity, while at home they were a pious and God-fearing race, and knew neither theft nor fraud among themselves. He concluded his eloquent eulogy of this valorous nation of pirates by expressing his fervent hope that they might for ever preserve their independence against the ruler of Bórnu.
I then wrote, from the mouth of Gajére and Yáhia (another of my friends), a list of the places lying round about Gazáwa, as follows: On the east side, Mádobí, Maíjirgí, Kógena na kay-debu, Kórmasa, Kórgom, Kánche (a little independent principality); Gumdá, half a day east of Gazáwa, with numbers of Ásbenáwa; Démbeda, or Dúmbida, at less distance; Shabáli, Babíl, Túrmeni, Gínga, Kandémka, Sabó-n-kefí, Zángoni-n-ákwa, Kúrni, Kurnáwa, Dángudaw. On the west side, where the country is more exposed to the inroads of the Fúlbe or Féllani, there is only one place of importance, called Tindúkku, which name seems to imply a close relation to the Tuarek. All these towns and villages are said to be in a certain degree dependent on Raffa, the “babá” (i.e. great man or chief) of Gazáwa, who, however, himself owes allegiance to the supreme ruler of Marádi.
There was an exciting stir in the encampment at about ten o’clock in the morning, illustrative of the restless struggle going on in these regions. A troop of about forty horsemen, mostly well mounted, led on by the serkí-n-Gumdá, and followed by a body of tall, slender archers, quite naked but for their leathern aprons, passed through the different rows of the áïri, on their way to join the expedition which the prince of Marádi was preparing against the Féllani.
About noon the natron caravan of Háj Al Wáli, which I had seen in Tasáwa, came marching up in solemn order, led on by two drums, and affording a pleasant specimen of the character of the Háusa people. Afterwards I went into the town, which was distant from my tent about half a mile. Being much exposed to attacks from the Mohammedans, as the southernmost Pagan place belonging to the Marádi-Góber Union, Gazáwa has no open suburbs outside its strong stockade, which is surrounded by a deep ditch. It forms almost a regular quadrangle, having a gate on each side, built of clay, which gives to the whole fortification a more regular character, besides the greater strength which the place derives from this precaution. Each gateway is twelve feet deep, and furnished on its top with a rampart sufficiently capacious for about a dozen archers. The interior of the town is almost of the same character as Tasáwa; but Gazáwa is rather more closely built, though I doubt whether its circumference exceeds that of the former place. The market is held every day, but, as might be supposed, is far inferior to that of Tasáwa, which is a sort of little entrepôt for the merchants coming from the north, and affords much more security than Gazáwa, which, though an important place with regard to the struggle carried on between Paganism and Islamism in these quarters, is not so with respect to commerce. The principal things offered for sale were cattle, meat, vegetables of different kinds, and earthenware pots. Gazáwa has also a máriná, or dyeing-place, but of less extent than that of Tasáwa, as most of its inhabitants are Pagans, and wear no clothing but the leathern apron. Their character appeared to me to be far more grave than that of the inhabitants of Tasáwa, and this is a natural consequence of the precarious position in which they are placed, as well as of their more warlike disposition. The whole population is certainly not less than ten thousand.
Having visited the market, I went to the house of the mʿallem, where I found several Ásbenáwa belonging to our caravan enjoying themselves in a very simple manner, eating the fruits of the kaña, which are a little larger than cherries, but not so soft and succulent. The mʿallem, as I had an opportunity of learning on this occasion, is a protégé of Elaíji, to whom the house belongs. Returning with my companions to our encampment, I witnessed a very interesting sort of dance, or rather gymnastic play, performed on a large scale by the Kél-owí, who being arranged in long rows, in pairs, and keeping up a regular motion, pushed along several of their number under their arms—not very unlike some of our old dances.
Monday, Jan. 20.—Starting early in the morning, we felt the cold very sensibly, the thermometer standing at 48° Fahr. a little before sunset. Cultivated fields interrupted from time to time the underwood for the first three miles, while the “ngílle,” or “kába,” formed the most characteristic feature of the landscape; but dúm-palms, at first very rarely seen, soon became prevalent, and continued for the next two miles. Then the country became more open, while in the distance to the left extended a low range of hills. New species of trees appeared, which I had not seen before, as the “kókia,” a tree with large leaves of a dark-green colour, with a green fruit of the size of an apple, but not eatable. The first solitary specimens of the gigiña, or deléb-palm, which is one of the most characteristic trees of the more southern regions, were also met with.