It appears that most of the caravans that pass through this country are obliged to pay a certain gumruk to the prince of Aghadez. The relations of the lesser Sheikhs of Aheer with the paramount sultan are of this kind. When a sultan dies, or is displaced, they assemble like the College of Cardinals, or rather like the old Polish nobility, to elect a new one. It is the law that this Sultan of Aghadez must be a stranger. When once chosen he is invested with something like absolute authority throughout all Aheer, and he alone possesses the dreaded power of "cutting off heads." En Noor has sent this morning what is called "the present, of salutation," which he determined to despatch to Abd-el-Kader, the new Sultan of Aghadez, instead of the immense gumruk demanded. The present consists of one Egyptian mattrass; two white turbans with red borders; a piece of white muslin for making light turbans; two shasheeahs, or red caps; two small gilt-framed looking-glasses; and a few beads of glass and earthen composition; one pound of jouee, or perfume for burning; a small packet of simbel, an aromatic herb used for washing the body; and two heads of white sugar. This composed what may be called the official present for the district of Tintalous. En-Noor added, from himself, two camels, a piece of silk for a gown, and various other little things.
Whilst these magnificences are going on, we are enjoying the comfortable reflection that all our losses are gains to other people, whether they be friends or enemies.
I had as much trouble to satisfy the parties who found the Arabic Bible as if I was purchasing their own property, and not rewarding them for accidentally finding some of my lost goods. Finally, however, I arranged to give them two cotton-printed handkerchiefs and a small quantity of spices. This was more than enough. These rewards for finding our lost property naturally impels our friendly people, either to rob us themselves or to wish that others may rob us, that they may have something to gain by attempting to recover our lost things. What we had to pay for the recovery of each of our camels was almost as much as some of them were worth.
The weather has been dry and hot for the last few days; at noon the thermometer rose to 100° under the tent. Suddenly it became cloudy, and a few drops of rain began to patter down. There was every appearance of a storm, and our people began to collect towards the tents. At this time another courier arrived from the new Sultan, Abd-el-Kader, of Aghadez, respecting us. His highness says:—"No one shall hurt the Christians: no one shall lift up a finger against them; and if they wish to come to my city, I shall be very happy to receive them." This courier arrived so quickly after the other, that I suspect his highness may be spelling for a large present; or he may have just heard of the bad treatment we have received, and being a new man has determined to afford us some reparation. Little reliance, however, can be placed on these professions, until we know something more of the character of Abd-el-Kader. It is certainly a great disappointment for us that we do not go to Aghadez. I am afraid that this will be the case with many other important cities.
The Es-Sfaxee wished to have a feast to celebrate the arrival of this good news, but I cannot join in such a demonstration. We have little cause for rejoicing at the conduct of the people of Aheer. En-Noor has not yet sent us a sah of ghaseb; or a drop of samen or a sheep's head. Never did travellers visit a country in Africa, without receiving some mark of hospitality of this kind from the chief or sovereign of the place.
In the evening a fellow came and asked us if we could sell him a veneese (a dressing-gown) in exchange for ghaseb. After some trouble we fixed the bargain. Saïd was fool enough to give him the veneese before he brought the merchandise, the fellow promising to bring it the next morning. During the night he fled with his booty on the road to Aghadez. Amankee went in pursuit of the fugitive, seized him on the road, and brought back the veneese: for such matters there is no one equal to Amankee.
20th.—Denham compares the berries of the suak (suag) to cranberries. Zumeeta is called parched corn; it should be parched ground corn. Gafouley is called guinea-corn. The green herb with which bazeen is generally seasoned is called melocheea (ochra). There are, however, various herbs for this seasoning, though all of them have a similar flavour. I confess, myself, I do not much like the flavour; it is, like that of olives, an acquired taste. Bazeen may be called flour-pudding.
Gubga is a Bornouese measure, eight drâas (or lengths of the lower part of the arm, from the elbow to the tips of the fingers) in length and one inch and a half broad. Denham, who spells it gubka, says it is about one English yard. The eight drâas would be, however, nearly three yards. This measure is applied to white, coarse, native-woven cotton, and a piece of cotton eight drâas long and one inch and half broad is a gubga. This is the money of Bornou; it must be a most inconvenient currency, but habit accustoms us to everything.
It is reported in town, that En-Noor intends shortly to make a razzia on the towns where we were plundered: he says, perhaps justly, "The tribes have 'tasted' fine burnouses, more especially their sheikhs; and emboldened by their success, and the attractiveness of the rich vestments, they will now plunder all the caravans." This is another reason why strong representations should be made to the Pasha of Mourzuk to grant us redress. En-Noor can seize camels and sequester them; he can also seize men: but he must afterwards send them to Aghadez for trial. This razzia, however, will not come off yet.
A storm of wind, with at little rain as usual, visited us in the afternoon. It then cleared up, and was fine all the evening.