The Sheikh (in reply to the Governor).—"My fathers were princes before all the Christian kings, thousands of years ago."
"I dare say they were."
My visitors now took leave of me, Jabour shaking hands with me, and saying, Mā-tăhāfsh, "don't fear." Afterwards had a great many curious visitors of the lower classes, all raving mad to see the Roumee ("Christian"). And amongst the rest, the son of Ouweek! who is a young harmless fellow, and said his father would never hurt a great Christian like me. He begged hard for a piece of sugar, which I gave him. He asked me if his father was coming to Ghat. For supper I received a splendid dish of meat and sopped bread, but very highly seasoned with pepper and cloves. It is the Soudan pepper, a small quantity of which possesses the most violent, nay virulent strength.
16th.—After taking a walk in the morning, I returned the visit of the Governor. He received me very politely, and presented me with a lion's skin, brought from Soudan. His Excellency shewed me his certificate of character and rank, certified by a huge seal of the Emperor of Morocco. He pointed out with conscious pride the name of Marabout, with which sacred title the Emperor had dubbed him. Muley Abd Errahman is an immense favourite here amongst the Moorish townsmen. They call him their Sultan. The Turks they fear and detest. They expect them one day at Ghat. In the afternoon I sent the Governor, according to the advice of Mustapha, two loaves of sugar (French), a pound of cloves, and a pound of sunbul[1]. Cloves—grunfel, قرنفل—are greatly esteemed, especially by the women, who season their cakes, cuskasous, and made-dishes with them. The sunbul (leaves) is made into a decoction, or wash, and is used by fashionable ladies in Sahara as eau de Cologne in Europe.
Afterwards I paid a visit to Sheikh Jabour. The Sheikh has a house within the town, which very few of the Sheikhs have. Jabour received me friendly. I could not see the features of the Sheikh very well, on account of his litham. Jabour, however, is a perfect aristocrat in his way, with a very delicate hand. He is tall and well-made, and his simple and elegant manners denote at once "The Marabout Sheikh of the Touaricks," of the most ancient and renowned of Touarghee families. I took the Sheikh a present of a loaf of sugar, three pounds of cloves and sunbul, and a shasheeah, or fez. Jabour received them very graciously, and repeated his ma-tahafsh, "don't fear," several times, promising me, at the same time, to use his influence with his friends to get me safely escorted to Aheer and Soudan. The Sheikh's followers and other distinguished Touaricks repeat the same, but the Governor I find more cautious in his speech. On my return home, the Sheikh sent to know if the handkerchief, in which the present was wrapped, were also a present, and whether the bearer of the present had purloined it, for he had taken it away with him. I immediately sent the Sheikh back the handkerchief, informing the Sheikh the bearer was not told to leave it. All Saharan people are immoderately fond of a handkerchief. I recommend travellers in Sahara to supply themselves with a good stock of very cheap coloured cotton handkerchiefs. My house is thronged all day long with visitors. I am obliged to exhibit myself to the people like the Fat Boy, or the American Giant. It is Richardson's Show at Ghat instead of Greenwich. The rest of the ghafalah, which we left behind, arrived to-day. My friend, El-Besher, to my regret, had turned suddenly back and gone to Touat, where his brother had arrived from Timbuctoo. It is reported that a quarrel had taken place about his brother amongst the Timbuctoo caravan, in which affair ten people had been killed. So all Saharan caravans do not travel in such harmony as we did. The Ghadamsee caravans are certainly the most pacific. But the Timbuctoo people have everywhere a bad character.
17th.—In the morning went to see the Consul of the Europeans, as the Moors call him. This is the Sheikh Hateetah, of whom very honourable mention is made by the Denham and Clapperton party. Hateetah himself assumes the distinction of "Friend," or Consul of the English. I found him stretched on a pallet upon the ground floor, extremely unwell with fever, and surrounded by his friends. He has just come from the country districts. He asked me, "Is the Consul well? Are his daughters well? Is the King of England well?" Hateetah had some years ago visited the Consul and his family at Tripoli, under British protection, for Touaricks dare not approach Tripoli. He has in his possession, after a dozen years, a fine scarlet burnouse and coat, braided with gold lace, and also a gun, which were presented to him by Colonel Warrington, on the part of our Government, for his services to our Bornou expedition. The Sheikh told me he had besides a written certificate from the Consul, but it was in the country. I am the first person whom he has had an opportunity of serving since his return from Tripoli, where he formally engaged, on the part of the Touaricks, to give British subjects all necessary protection in the Ghat districts. For this reason he is styled, "The friend of the English." All strangers here are placed under the care of one Sheikh or another, to whom they make presents, but not to the rest. Hateetah resides in the suburbs.
During the past night was taken dreadfully ill, in the stomach, by eating the high-seasoned dishes of the Governor. After drinking olive-oil and vomiting, found myself much better. People say oil is the best remedy in such cases. The Governor was troubled at my illness, and sent to ask whether he should send me some senna tea. Wrote to-day to Mr. Alsager and Colonel Warrington. The letters were to have been dispatched direct to Tripoli, but the Touaricks would neither allow one of their own people nor an Arab courier to go, giving as the reason that Shafou, the Sultan, was not arrived. Touaricks have a horror of Turks, and cannot bear to have communication with them, and do everything in their power to prevent others from communicating with Tripoli. Not acquainted with Mediterranean politics, they imagine that, because the Turks have retaken possession of Ghadames and Fezzan, so long quasi-independent of Tripoli, they must necessarily invade the Touarick territory, and seize upon their wee town of Ghat, but to them the metropolis of The Sahara. This evening Jabour hinted, in Hibernian style, to one of the slaves waiting upon me, that his present of sugar was rather small. I forthwith sent him two loaves more, which rejoiced him so much that he exclaimed, "Thank the Christian by G—d. Tell him he has nothing to fear in Ghat, and he shall go safe to Soudan." Felt better to-night. The Governor sent his last dish this evening. A stranger of distinction is supplied with food for three days. I have had my share of honour and hospitality, and am glad of it. I shall now be cautious what I eat. But I find everything is exceedingly dear, the number of strangers, foreign merchants, and slaves, is so unusually great as quickly to devour all the food brought here.
Yesterday I made the acquaintance of Haj Ibrahim, a Moorish merchant resident in Tripoli, but a native of Jerbah. When in Tripoli he acts as Consul for the Ghadamsee merchants; his brother is now in charge. Mustapha came with him direct from Tripoli, not passing through Mourzuk, but viâ the oases of Fezzan to the west. So an European agent established at Mourzuk, cannot well collect a statistical account of trade, on account of few Ghat caravans travelling the Mourzuk route. Haj Ibrahim promises to be useful to me, and has already sent a letter for me to Ghadames. This merchant has brought the largest amount of goods to the Souk, about forty camels. The whole of the Soudan ghafalah has not yet arrived from Aheer. It comes in by small detached parties. As there is nothing to fear on the road, people prefer travelling in small companies, which facilitates their march, not being detained at the wells waiting for the running of the water.
I have cut in a certain way my old friends of the Ghadamsee ghafalah. This has done them good, for they now begin to return to me, and are polite. Before they were all so frightened at the Touaricks, that I knew if I did not cut them, they would cut me. Now, when seeing the Touaricks are friendly, they are also friendly;—such is the world of Sahara, as well as the world of Paris or London. When a man has few friends he gets less, when many he gets more. On the principle, I suppose, that money gets money, and friendship friendship. The Moors of the coast, of whom there are a few here, exhibit more courage, and a bolder front to the Touaricks. The worst of this place is, The Rabble. It is the veritable Caboul, or Canton Rabble. Here's my "great difficulty." They run after me, and even hoot me in the streets. Were it not for this rabble, I could walk about with the greatest freedom and safety, and alone.
18th.—Went to see Haj Ibrahim. Sent the letter to Mr. Alsager viâ Ghadames, the only letter I wrote from Ghat during the fifty days of my residence here. In my absence a loaf of sugar was stolen out of my apartment. Suspicion falls upon a Fezzanee, whom I have employed, and to whom I gave this very morning a quarter of a dollar. These small loaves of French beet-root sugar sell for two-thirds of a dollar in Ghat. Ouweek arrived to-day from his district, after stopping for the rest of the caravan to get what he could in the way of begging by force. This is the cunning of the old fox bandit. He knows he can beg more effectually from the merchant and trader in the open desert, than at Ghat, where people may refuse, and do refuse to satisfy his importunities. I have done so with the rest. He now pretends he was only playing with me, and that he would have let me pass through his district though I had given him nothing. Can we believe him? Jabour says in turn:—"I will make Ouweek restore the goods which he has extorted by violence from the Christian." There is no doubt Shafou will reprimand the bandit when he arrives. But I do not ask or expect the restoration of such a few trifling things. In this country, as the Governor says, "full of Sheiks," where authority is so divided, and the Sultan's power is so feeble, we must expect this sort of freebooting extortion. Such were the good and fine old days of chivalry in France and England, so much regretted by certain morbid romancers, Sir Walter Scott to boot, when a baron made a foray upon a neighbouring baron's people, and shut himself up with the booty in his castle, defying equally his plundered neighbour and his sovereign. But if in the comparison there is any declination of the balance, it is in favour of the Touaricks, for these Sheikhs, governing their respective districts with a quasi-independent authority, are now living in profound peace and harmony with one another.
