French enterprise in Africa

by Hourst

Habibulaye did not, it is true, conceal from me the fact that other Kuntas were bitterly hostile to us, notably a certain Abiddin, who generally resided at Tuat, and who meant to rouse the Hoggars against us. He had, in fact, twice gone quite close to Timbuktu to try and make the people rise against the French.

More confirmed than ever by all that I heard in my resolve, and having now got all the information I could out of Habibulaye, who was but a child, I made up my mind, as soon as I got to Timbuktu to take Hamadi into my confidence, and get him to give me recommendations to his relations.

A strong east wind, which lashed the river into waves and was dead against us, delayed us so much that we did not reach Kabara until the evening of January 11.

As is well known, Timbuktu is not actually on the river, but at low water is some eight or nine miles off. Djitafe is then the nearest point of approach for canoes, but when the river rises they go up a lateral arm, and come first to Koriomé and then to Day. At certain times a stream, the bed of which is said to have been hollowed out, or at least deepened by the hand of man, enables very small craft to get up to Kabara, whilst more rarely, that is to say, when the inundations are at their height, the various excavations behind the Kabara dune are successively filled up, and boats can reach the capital itself. As a general rule, however, merchandise is taken into Timbuktu on the backs of camels and asses, the route varying according to the state of the river.

The ancient capital of Nigritia, or the Sudan, as it was still called not long ago in geographical text-books, has lost all its mystery since it passed into the hands of the French, and opinions are divided as to its present and future position. My friend Felix Dubois has described it, and it would be alike a waste of time and presumption on my part to attempt to supplement what he has said so well. I shall content myself with noting the reason of the former great commercial importance of Timbuktu; relatively considered of course. “Timbuktu,” says an Arab author, “is the point of meeting of the camel and the canoe.” That fact alone would not, however, be enough to account for its prosperity; many other places on the river fulfil this condition, as well if not better than Timbuktu, for, as we can ourselves testify, the canoe and the camel only meet there a few days in the year, and not always even as often as that.

In my opinion we have to seek the explanation elsewhere, and I think I have found it. Here it is: camels cannot with impunity approach rivers or other water-courses, for this reason. The banks are subject to constant inundations, and, especially in the Niger basin, quantities of succulent grass, containing a great deal of water, everywhere spring up, which, though the camel eats them gluttonously, are fatal to the “ship of the desert,” used as it is to dry food.

Now by a strange freak of nature, the part of the desert, I will not say exactly the driest part, but certainly the portion containing neither streams nor permanent pools, that vast expanse improperly called the Sahara, stretches up to the very gates of Timbuktu, so that caravans can reach the city without any risk to the animals. In a word, may we not say that Timbuktu is not a port of the Niger in the Sahara, but a port of the Sahara near the Niger?

As long as the trade of Timbuktu is carried on chiefly by caravans coming from the north, it will, in my opinion, retain its importance, but as soon as the Sudan railway is completed, merchandise will come by way of it and the river, and the commerce of Timbuktu will be reduced to a trifling trade in salt, which is dug out in considerable quantities from the mines of Towdeyni, about twenty days’ march on the north.

When we arrived, we could only bring our boats up to Kabera. The port was blocked with big canoes made of planks tied together in the manner already described, and a brisk trade in salt and grain was going on on the quays.