On the 25th of April, the merchants of Timbuctoo came to Cabra, to land their goods. They were mounted on excellent horses. Sidi-Abdallahi Chebir, to whom I had been directed by the sherif of Jenné, did not come; but he sent his slaves. They were all well clothed, and armed with a common kind of muskets, made at Tunis. Sidi-Mbark, the owner of the canoe which had conveyed me to Cabra, had arrived at Timbuctoo several days before us, and had mentioned me to Sidi-Abdallah Chebir. He, consulting only the duty imposed on him by his religion (for he had not yet received the letter of his correspondent in my behalf) ordered his slaves to congratulate me on my happy arrival, and to invite me to visit him. This message led me to augur a good reception from him.
CHAPTER XXI.
Journey from Cabra to Timbuctoo — First view of the city — The Kissoors — The king grants the traveller an audience — Condition of the slaves — Description of the city, its buildings, extent, and commerce — Food and dress of the people — Bousbéhey, a city of the Zawats — Toudeyni — Tribe of Salah — Terror inspired by the Tooariks — Description of that tribe — The Ginbulas — Particulars respecting the fate of Major Laing — Reflexions on the means of penetrating to the centre of Africa.
On the 20th of April, at half past three, I set out for Timbuctoo, escorted by Sidi-Abdallah Chebir’s slaves. Our road lay northward. The slaves who had been on board our canoe also accompanied us, so that we formed a numerous caravan. The youngest slaves were mounted upon asses, as the road is very sandy and wearisome. Near Cabra we passed two lakes, the banks of which were overgrown with mimosas from five to six feet high. A little further the eye was refreshed by some signs of vegetation. The country presented the same scenery until we had proceeded half way on our journey, and then it began to be more naked, and the sand becoming exceedingly loose, rendered travelling very difficult. On the road we were followed by a Tooarik, mounted on a superb horse. This marauder, who appeared to be about fifty years of age, shewed a disposition to appropriate to himself a young negro slave. Sidi-Abdallah Chebir’s men represented to him that the slave belonged to their master, and that if, on arriving at the city, he would pay him a visit, he would doubtless receive a present. This appeared to satisfy him, and he ceased to molest us. He eyed me narrowly, and several times inquired who I was, and whence I came. They told him I was poor, and he relinquished the hope of getting any thing from me.
At length, we arrived safely at Timbuctoo, just as the sun was touching the horizon. I now saw this capital of the Soudan, to reach which had so long been the object of my wishes. On entering this mysterious city, which is an object of curiosity and research to the civilised nations of Europe, I experienced an indescribable satisfaction. I never before felt a similar emotion and my transport was extreme. I was obliged, however to restrain my feelings, and to God alone did I confide my joy. With what gratitude did I return thanks to Heaven, for the happy result which attended my enterprise! How many grateful thanksgivings did I pour forth for the protection which God had vouchsafed to me, amidst obstacles and dangers which appeared insurmountable. This duty being ended, I looked around and found that the sight before me, did not answer my expectations. I had formed a totally different idea of the grandeur and wealth of Timbuctoo. The city presented, at first view, nothing but a mass of ill-looking houses, built of earth. Nothing was to be seen in all directions but immense plains of quicksand of a yellowish white colour. The sky was a pale red as far as the horizon: all nature wore a dreary aspect, and the most profound silence prevailed; not even the warbling of a bird was to be heard. Still, though I cannot account for the impression, there was something imposing in the aspect of a great city, raised in the midst of sands, and the difficulties surmounted by its founders cannot fail to excite admiration. I am inclined to think, that formerly the river flowed close to Timbuctoo; though at present it is eight miles to the north of that city, and five miles from Cabra, in the same direction.
I took up my abode with Sidi-Abdallahi, who received me in the most friendly manner. He had already been indirectly acquainted with the alleged circumstances, which, as I pretended, had occasioned my journey across the Soudan. He invited me to sup with him; and an excellent couscous of millet and mutton was served up. Six of us partook of the dish, and we ate with our fingers; but in as cleanly a way as was possible under such circumstances. Sidi-Abdallahi, according to the custom of his countrymen, did not say a word to me. He was a mild, quiet, reserved man. His age might be about forty or forty-five. He was five feet high, stout and pitted with the small-pox. His countenance was pleasing, his manners grave, and rather dignified. He had no fault but his religious fanaticism.
After bidding my host good night, I went to repose upon a mat which was spread upon the ground in my new lodging. At Timbuctoo the nights are as hot as the days, and I could get no rest in the chamber which had been prepared for me. I removed to the court adjoining the house, but still found it impossible to sleep. The heat was oppressive; not a breath of air freshened the atmosphere. In the whole course of my travels I never found myself more uncomfortable.
On the morning of the 21st of April, I went to pay my respects to my host, who received me with affability; afterwards I took a turn round the city. I found it neither so large nor so populous as I had expected. Its commerce is not so considerable as fame has reported. There was not as at Jenné, a concourse of strangers from all parts of the Soudan. I saw in the streets of Timbuctoo only the camels, which had arrived from Cabra laden with the merchandise of the flotilla, a few groups of the inhabitants sitting on mats, conversing together, and Moors lying asleep in the shade before their doors. In a word, every thing had a dull appearance.
I was surprised at the inactivity, I may even say, indolence, displayed in the city. Some colat-nut venders were crying their goods in the streets, as at Jenné.
About four in the afternoon, when the heat had diminished, I saw several negro traders, all well clothed and mounted on good horses richly harnessed, go out to ride. Prudence forbids them to venture far from the city, for fear of the Tooariks, who would make them pay dearly for their excursions.