But I afterwards observed, on the seal of the reigning Sultan, these words,—“The Sultan Mohammed, son of the Sultan Seleih, the Abbaside.” I sought to find out by what genealogical affiliation the name of that noble family could be mixed up with the history of these non-Arab peoples. But those whom I consulted gave me contradictory accounts, some saying that the reigning dynasty had no connexion with the Arabs, others affirming the contrary. A very sagacious person, the Aguid Ahmed, related to me, that when the Tartars had driven the Abbaside family from Bagdad, the kaliphate was removed to Egypt, and remained there until the Turks and the Mamlouks drove them out; that is to say, until the time of the Fatamites. The children of the Abbaside kaliphs, after the overthrow of their dynasty, were dispersed, and sought refuge in various countries. One of them went to Sennaar, and thence passed on to Wadaï, where he settled among the Pagan inhabitants of Mount Seloun. He fulfilled exactly the duties of his religion, praying, fasting, and performing the zikr and reciting the Koran. The people, whose friendship he had acquired, asked him why he did these things, and he answered, it was to do homage to God. “And what is God?” said they. “God is he who created the heavens and the earth, the night and the day, the sun, and the moon, and the stars, the trees and the rivers; his hand governs all these things.” The people of Seloun at length embraced Islamism, and Saleh, whom they called Seleih, after having well-instructed them, caused himself to be named the religious chief, and set about converting by arms, or other means, the neighbouring tribes. The four tribes first converted became, in some sort, the royal family of the country, from which the mothers of the Sultan must necessarily be derived. Such of the remaining peoples of Wadaï as accepted the new faith with readiness were declared to be free; whilst those who only yielded to force were reduced to slavery. In this way, according to this informant, was the dynasty of Seleih founded.
Other persons told me that the Sultans of Wadaï, Darfur, and Kordofal, were all descended from one father, who belonged to the Arab tribe called Fezarah; but as all these recitals are founded on mere oral traditions, God only knows the truth. For my part, I am inclined to believe the account which derives the great Seleih from the Abbasides, on account of the elevation of his character, the nobility of his mind, his piety, and his goodness. If he had preceded Hatim Tai by a day, Hatim would never have been chosen as the type of generosity in Arab poetry. How different is the paltry conduct and the poltroonery of the Forians from the valour and the easy hospitality of the Wadaïans! The differences of the qualities of the two nations are sufficient to prove the different origin of their Sultans; for a people is, in some sort, the creation of its governors. At any rate, one thing is certain, that the three states of Wadaï, Darfur, and Kordofal, are of recent establishment, not exceeding in age two hundred years.
An old man of Senoun once related to me that Salou Selman, sultan of Darfur, and Seleih, sultan of Wadaï, once met in the uninhabited space which separates the two countries, and there engaged, by oath, to live in peace one with the other. They measured the space between the cultivated land, and drew a line exactly in the centre, which they marked by very long and thick iron nails, driven into the trunks of the largest trees. They engaged reciprocally not to overpass this line with hostile intentions, and called God and man to witness what they promised. When I was travelling from Darfur to Wadaï, indeed, I saw in the midst of the forest, at the place where we met so great a number of rabbits and wild beasts, a line of trees, in each of which a bar of iron was stuck, advancing about a span. Each nail appeared to me about a cubit and a half long. The points did not stick out straight, but were beaten down, to prevent any accidental injuries to passers-by. The Fakih Ahmed told me at that time that this was the ancient boundary-mark of Wadaï and Darfur.
After the death of the two wise Sultans, their children, as is the custom with princes, began to cast covetous eyes on their neighbour’s property. He of Wadaï invaded Darfur, but was defeated with great loss, and under the next reign the Forians penetrated into Wadaï. The war that followed was most terrible, and in one of the battles the Forian Sultan himself was slain. The whole of this struggle reminds me of the war of Basous. The corpses of those who fell were devoured by birds of prey and by lions, or buried in huge pits.
One of the incidents related in connexion with this war is curious. The Sultan of Wadaï, Gaudeh, pretending to fly, had marched round in the rear of the Forian army, and interposed between them and their country. They believed, however, that he was utterly routed, and loudly expressed their joy. One vizier, however, remained silent, and on being asked by his master why he did not share in the general joy, replied that he did not believe in this easy victory, and offered to prove that the enemy’s army was even then marching towards them.
“How wilt thou do this?” said the Sultan.
“Bring me a she-camel,” replied the vizier, “with a man who knows how to milk.”
The camel was brought, and well washed, and the milk was drawn into a clean bowl, and placed, with a man to guard it, on the top of the Sultan’s tent. Next morning the vizier caused the bowl to be brought to him, and found the milk quite black. So he went to the Sultan and said,—
“Master, they are coming down upon us, and have marched all night.”
“How dost thou know that?”