The marabout, with his camel and burden, has not yet come up; he left us to visit his country. We are likewise still without news of three camel-loads left behind at Mizdah. There is always a train of stragglers behind every caravan that is not huddled together by fear. We should never have procured beasts enough on the road, and did well to take them direct from Tripoli. The Pasha's circular letter was of little or no use in this respect; and, indeed, we could not expect it to cause camels to start out of the ground.
8th.—I paid a visit to the commandant of the troops, Runthar Aga, Bim Bashaw, quite a Christian Moor; and got information on military affairs whilst tasting the soup in the kitchen. Also called upon our old friend the Doctor, and inspected the hospital, which certainly holds out no temptation to a man to be ill. The patients are few: two have strong fevers; five or six are convalescent; the sick-list contains no other cases; but it will be different when summer comes on.
9th.—Received a visit from the acting Governor, and presented him with a bottle of snuff. Like other great men, this Pasha makes a great consumption of rappee, and empties nearly a box a-day.
10th.—The military seem to have taken a fancy to us. Here comes the Commandant, to return our call, with all the officers of the garrison. Smiles and courtesy are the order of the day. Dr. Overweg brings out some of his scientific instruments, and the knowing ones have an opportunity of showing their ignorance. All passes off well. Mr. Gagliuffi observes: "You would not have had so much attention paid to you in Tripoli." Possibly; but this may partly be accounted for by the rarity of Europeans at Mourzuk. Familiarity has not had time to breed contempt.
11th.—There is excitement in the town. What news? The new acting Governor, my old acquaintance of Ghadamez, Rais Mustapha, is in sight, hull above the horizon. We all go out to meet him, and soon see his cortège breaking between the groves. This is the gayest and most spirited scene I have witnessed since leaving Tripoli. Mustapha brings his staff and 200 Arab cavaliers with him, to relieve the Fezzan irregulars. They make a gallant-looking body of men as they come swiftly on. All the authorities of the town, with whatever cavalry is already collected here, pour out of the gates to pay their compliments; and then come crowds of the lower classes of citizens, with their rude bagpipes, which scream discordantly. The horsemen galloped hither and thither in the plain whilst the interview between the great men took place, and effectually drowned all the polite things that were said by their trampling and hurrahing. We rode up likewise to welcome the new great man. Mustapha looked well, was excellently mounted, and dressed almost like an European officer. He smiled graciously on seeing his old friend of Ghadamez, and shook me by the hand; he also recognised the Germans, having seen them at Zaweeah, near Tripoli. Satisfied with this little interview, we drew aside, and the procession moved towards the gate. There was instantly a rush of the Arab horsemen, every one trying to get in front; and as the entry was narrow an obstruction soon took place. We drew aside, and called out to those who were pressing on to make way for the Governor. One fellow would not hear; and Mustapha himself riding up, lashed him with a small whip across the shoulders. Bad taste; but perhaps excusable in this case, if ever. These lawless soldiery can never be taught good manners, without which true discipline is impossible. However, we at length got within the gate, and the procession poured along the streets, the women loo-looing as we passed, the bagpipes shrieking louder than ever, the crowd buzzing, the horses thundering, the cavaliers shouting. In fine, this hubbub carried us quite back into the regions of civilisation, where men collect on public occasions often without any real joy, and by mere process of action and reaction succeed in working themselves up into a state of boisterous enthusiasm.
Several days were now chiefly occupied in writing reports on the progress made by the expedition hitherto; and in voluminous correspondence on petty, matters—petty, I mean, in themselves, but very important to us—all connected with our future proceedings. I forwarded to the Foreign Office a letter addressed by the Sultan Laoul, of the Tibboos of Bilma, to Mr. Gagliuffi. It appears these people are now nominally subject to the Ottoman Porte.
12th.—We went to pay a visit to Mustapha Agha, my old friend of Ghadamez. He received us with all the honours—a guard of officers, pipes, coffee, and sherbet. That important subject of health was a good deal talked of. Mustapha fears the climate of Fezzan, and finds little consolation in the doctrines of fatalism. He seemed surprised at the bulk of the despatches last forwarded from the Consulate, and asked if we all knew how to write. He cannot understand the necessity of minute directions. We explained as well as we could; and then talked of the journeys we had respectively performed. This gave Mustapha an opportunity of astonishing us in his Turkish way. He said that he had come with 200 men and 300 camels from Tripoli in sixteen days, having stopped only one day, and travelled regularly from three in the afternoon to nine next morning. We marvelled, as in duty bound; but refrained not from making inquiries; the result of which was, that the real time was thirty-one days, only eight days less than we had occupied. We did not scold Mustapha for his exaggeration, but might perhaps have done so without offence. When a Turk does tell a lie, he submits to be accused of it with good-humour.
After leaving the hyperbolical Governor, we went to see Sheikh Mohammed Boro, Sakontaroua of Aghadez, who has arrived here en route from Mekka. He was recommended to us by Hassan Pasha of Tripoli; but Mr. Gagliuffi does not think much of him. We shall see.
14th.—Walked in the gardens, and were pleased with their aspect. On returning, I wrote out the different kinds of dates in this country. We saw some Egyptian camels with a pilgrim caravan, of a dark and almost black colour.
My Fezzanee marabout, by the way, has left Mourzuk, after making me a present of some cakes and dates of dainty quality. He has been of great use to me, and I shall remember him with pleasure.