Leaving Bel-Ghét in better humour, I went with el Wákhshi to his house, where he treated me and two Ásbenáwa with a dish of roasted fowl and dates, after which I proceeded with him through the decayed and deserted quarter where the rich Ghadámsíye merchants once lived, and through some other streets in a rather better state, to the market-place, which forms a large regular quadrangle, with several rows of sheds, or runfá, of the same style as those in Tasáwa, but much better and more regularly built. Of course there was here a better supply of native cotton cloth and of small Nuremberg wares, in the market, than in the former place; but otherwise there was nothing particular, and altogether it was dull, showing the state of decay into which this once splendid and busy emporium of Negroland had fallen.
The most interesting thing I observed in the market were limes, of tolerably large size and extremely cheap, and the beautiful large fruit of the gónda (Carica Papaya), which had just begun to ripen; however, the latter was rather dear, considering the low price of provisions in general, a fine papaw being sold for from twenty-five to thirty kurdí, a sum which may keep a poor man from starvation for five days. In Kanó I afterwards saw this fruit cut into thin slices, which were sold for one “urí” (shell) each. Having sat for a long time with el Wákhshi in a runfá, without being exposed to any insult whatever, though I was necessarily an object of some curiosity, I returned home and passed the evening quietly with my people, Gajére giving me reason all the time for the utmost satisfaction with his faithful and steadfast behaviour. Besides being sincerely attached to me, he was persuaded that he possessed influence enough to get me out of my scrape; and thus he informed me, as a great secret, that he had forwarded a message to Ánnur, giving him full information of my case, and that in consequence I might give myself no further trouble, but rely entirely upon that chiefs assistance. While he was thus cheering my spirits in the evening, as we lay round the fire in our courtyard, he frequently repeated the words, “Kasó mutúm dondádi uyátaso, kádda kakíshi da kúmmia,” contrasting his own faithfulness with the faithless, frivolous behaviour of Mohammed el Túnsi, whom he called “mógo mutúm” (a bad sort of fellow). But Gajére also had his own reasons for not being so very angry at our delay, as the lean mare which I had hired of him had a sore back and was in a rather weak state, so that a little rest and a full measure of corn every day was not so much amiss for her.
El Wákhshi returned the same evening, giving me hope that I might get off the next day. However, this proved to be empty talk; for the following day my business with the pompous Béllo made no progress, he demanding nothing less from me than one hundred thousand kurdí or cowries—a sum certainly small according to European modes of thinking, barely exceeding 8l., but which I was quite unable to raise at the time. Béllo was mean enough to found his claims upon his noble but quite uncalled-for hospitality, having given me, as he said, two rams, two vessels of honey, and two loads of corn, altogether worth from eleven to twelve thousand cowries; and I now felt myself fully justified in changing his noble title “Sultán, ben Sultán” into that of “Dellál, ben dellál” (Broker, son of a broker). Even my old friend el Wákhshi took the occasion of this new difficulty of mine to give vent to his feelings as a merchant, saying that this was the “dʿawa” (the curse) attending our (the English) proceedings against the slave-trade. And it must be confessed that the merchants of Ghadámes have suffered a great deal from the abolition of the slave-trade in Tunis, without being compensated for this loss by the extension or increased security of legitimate commerce. Seeing that the slave-trade is still carried on in Núpe or Nýffi, where, they are persuaded, the English could prevent it if they would, and that it is there carried on not by Mohammedans but by Christians, they have plausible grounds for being angry with the English nation.
I had a highly interesting discussion with my old fanatical friend Bel-Ghét. It seems that after I had protested against his calling me “káfer” the other day, he had held a consultation on this subject with some people of his own faith; and his zeal being thus revived, he returned to-day to urge the point. He began with questioning me about the different nations that professed Christianity, and which among them were the “kofár;” for some of them, he was quite sure, were, and deserved to be, so called. I replied that the application of the word depended on the meaning attached to it, and that if he understood by the word káfer anybody who doubted of the mission of Mohammed, of course a great many Christians were kofár; but if, with more reason, he called by this name only those who had no idea of the unity of God, and venerated other objects besides the Almighty God, that it could then be applied only to a few Christians, particularly to those of the Greek, and to the less enlightened of the Catholic Church, though even these venerated the crucifix and the images rather as symbols than as idols. But I confessed to him that, with regard to the unity of the Divine Being, Islám certainly was somewhat purer than the creeds of most of the Christian sects; and I acknowledged that, just at the time when Mohammed appeared, Christianity had sunk considerably below the level of its pristine purity. The old man went away pleased with what I had told him, and swore that he would not again call the English kofár, but that, with my permission, he would still apply that name to the “Mósko” (the Russians).
In the afternoon his son, a man of about five and thirty, came to visit me, accompanied by a sheríf from Yeman, who had been to Bombay, and was well acquainted with the English; he was now on his way to Timbúktu, in order to vindicate his right of inheritance to the property of a wealthy merchant who had died there. In this, however, he was unsuccessful; and when I reached Timbúktu in September, 1853, he had left it some time previously with broken spirits and in great distress. He perished on his way home. He was an amiable and intelligent man, and visited me several times. From him and his companion I received intimation of a large “Christian book,” bound in leather, with edges and lock made of metal, in the possession of a Púllo or Ba-Féllanchi in the town; but no one could tell me whether it was manuscript or print, and although I offered to pay for a sight of it, I never succeeded in my object. It might be one of those heavy books which Clapperton, when dying, told Lander rather to leave behind than take with him to England.
Tuesday, Jan. 28.—I at length succeeded in arranging matters with the governor. Early in the morning I sent Mohammed to el Wákhshi in order to try and settle the business, telling him that I was ready to make any possible sacrifice; and he sent me a bernús for fifty-two thousand kurdí. While I was hesitating about contracting a new debt of such magnitude (in my poor circumstances), Bel-Ghét, who evidently feared that if I gave one large present to the governor, he himself would get nothing, intimated to me that it would be better to choose several small articles. El Wákhshi therefore procured a caftan of very common velvet, a carpet, a sedríye or close waistcoat, and a shawl, which altogether did not exceed the price of thirty-one thousand kurdí; so that I saved more than twenty thousand. In order, however, to give to the whole a more unpremeditated, honorary, and professional appearance, I added to it a pencil, a little frankincense, and two strong doses of Epsom salts.
While Bel-Ghét was engaged in negotiating peace for me with the eccentric governor, I went with el Wákhshi and Gajére to the market, and thence proceeded with the latter, who, stout and portly, strode before me with his heavy spear, like a stately bodyguard or “kavás,” to the house of Mánzo, an agent of Masáwaji, who always lives here, and paid him our compliments. Passing then by the house of the Sultan of Ágades (“gída-n-serkí-n-Agades”), who occasionally resides here, we went to the “kófan Gúga” (the north-western gate of the town), which my companion represented to me as belonging entirely to the Ásbenáwa; for as long as Kátsena formed the great emporium of this part of Africa the aïri used to encamp in the plain outside this gate. The wall is here very strong and high, at least from without, where the height is certainly not less than from five and thirty to forty feet, while in the interior the rubbish and earth has accumulated against it to such a degree that a man may very easily look over it; the consequence is that during the rains a strong torrent, formed here, rushes out of the gate. On the outside there is also a deep, broad ditch. We returned to our lodging by way of the “máriná” and the market, both of which places were already sunk in the repose and silence of night.
I had scarcely re-entered my dark quarters, when Bel-Ghét arrived, telling me that the governor did not want my property at all; however, to do honour to my present, he would condescend to keep the caftan and the carpet, but he sent me back the sedríye and the shawl—of course to be given as a present to his agent and commissioner, my noble friend from Gurára. The governor, however, was anxious to obtain some more medicines from me. He at the same time promised to make me a present of a horse. Although I had but a small store of medicines with me, I chose a few powders of quinine, of tartar-emetic, and of acetate of lead, and gave him a small bottle with a few drops of laudanum, while it was arranged that on the following morning I should explain to the governor himself the proper use of these medicines.
The next morning, therefore, I proceeded with Bel-Ghét, to whose swollen eye I had successfully applied a lotion, and whose greediness I had satisfied with another small present on the way to the “zínsere.” He wished to show me the interior of the immense palace, or the “fáda;” but he could not obtain access to it, and I did not see it till on my second visit to Kátsena.