Kankan-Fodéa, of which Cambaya forms part, is a small district, inhabited by Mandingoes subject to the almamy of Timbo. It is situated in an immense plain, composed of grey sand mixed with some gravel. The soil is fertilised by the inundations of the Tankisso, which makes a thousand meanders through this beautiful country. After winding to the south, it flows to the N.E., then turns to the N.N.E, and finally, after numberless sinuosities, discharges itself into the Dhioliba. Bouré is situated on the left bank of the Tankisso, at the distance of a day’s journey from its junction with the Dhioliba. All the Mandingoes of Cambaya concur in describing that country as being rich in gold mines, and possessing an extremely fertile soil, which however is not cultivated by the inhabitants, who purchase every thing, even pistachio-nuts, with gold. The plain of Kankan-Fodéa is surrounded by mountains about one hundred fathoms in height. They are inhabited by pastoral Foulahs who rear numerous flocks. The butter-tree grows in the mountains as well as in the plain. Some of the fruit was brought to me and I liked it; but as animal butter abounds in the country it is preferred. This vegetable is applied as a remedy for pains and wounds, and some of it is sold to the European settlements on the coast.
Five days’ journey S. ¼ S.E. of Cambaya commences the kingdom of Couranco. According to the reports of Mandingo travellers, the Dhioliba has it source in that country. I questioned them on the subject, and they at first told me that it rises between Bouré and Yamina. I observed to them that they were asserting what was impossible; but I discovered afterwards that they meant the cataract, which they called Sourondo, and that I had erroneously understood this word to signify source in their language. I drew on the ground a line to represent the river, and, pointing to its origin, asked them how they named that part. They answered folou (beginning) and intimated that they had no other word for source. They assured me that the folou of the Dhioliba is in Couranco; only the Bâ-fing and some other small rivers, they said, rise in Fouta. The Bâ-fing passes through the country of Bondou and runs to N’dar (St. Louis in the Senegal). A journey of a day and a half southward brings the traveller to Fryia, or Firya, which consists of several small villages united. They informed me that the Dhioliba passes that place and is of considerable size there. The first villages of Sangaran lie five days’ journey to the S.S.E. Sangaran and Couranco are large countries like Fouta; the inhabitants are idolaters. These countries, I was told, are divided into a number of small districts, which have their separate and independent chiefs, who are often at war with each other. Some Musulmans are settled among them. Couranco extends from east to west and to the south of Sangaran, which also stretches from west to east. I was informed that these countries are mountainous and very fertile. The small country of Kissi-kissi lies to the west of Couranco, at the distance of ten or twelve days’ journey from Cambaya, and in the environs of Sierra-Leone.
In the evening of the 28th of May, a caravan of saracolet merchants passed, on its route from Cambaya to Kankan, where it was to divide into three parties, for Bouré, Ségo, and Yamina. The merchants visited the mansa or chief, and that worthy old man recommended me to their care. They went on, and halted for the night at Bagaraya, about two miles to the east of Cambaya.
The 29th of May was employed in making our preparations. I arranged my baggage, which since my arrival had been left in Ibrahim’s hut, because, that in which I slept was not within the inclosure and had no fastenings. I often examined it, and several times suspected that it had been meddled with; I thought so from the manner in which it was tied up; I had some pieces of stuff which had been cut, some tobacco, and some glass ornaments, which seemed to please the people greatly. I could not however ascertain whether they had robbed me or not, and I chose rather to presume that they had been induced by curiosity to examine my property than to suspect them of theft. I made a little present to the Foulah Guibi, in return for the pistachio bread which he had given me.
In the evening I took leave of the chief who had been so kind to me; I made him a present of some gunpowder, which pleased him much; he gave me his blessing, and offered up prayers for the prosperity of my journey.
On the 30th of May, 1827, I took leave of my friends, (at least, such friends as a white can have among negroes,) and we set out, about ten in the morning, after eating a little rice, which Ibrahim had prepared for me. Lamfia, my new guide, was accompanied by one of his wives, who was to cook for us on the journey: she carried on her head a bag of salt, some calabashes, and an earthen pot. Our caravan was composed of eight individuals. Ibrahim and the Foulah Guibi came with me as far as the bridge across the Tankisso; my old guide carried my umbrella and my satala; the latter contained seven or eight rice loaves baked in the sun, which had been given me on my departure: Ibrahim thought proper to appropriate to himself two of these loaves without my knowledge. I mentioned the circumstance to Lamfia, who censured Ibrahim’s dishonesty, and asked me whether he had eaten much of my merchandise, a phrase employed to express any fraud or breach of confidence. Ibrahim and Guibi parted from us at the bridge: they again recommended me to the care of Lamfia, telling him that, as my resources were but scanty, he must be moderate in his demands upon me, and that God would reward him. They seemed sorry to leave me, and after we had separated they turned round and called loudly after me, Salam alékoum, Abd-allahi: (Abd-allahi was my assumed name). They repeated this salutation three times, and then they exclaimed, Allam-Kiselak! (May God preserve thee on thy journey!) But though both uttered the same words, yet I could easily perceive that Guibi’s regret was more sincere than Ibrahim’s.
We soon reached Bagaraya, which is situated two miles east of Cambaya; our road was covered with butter-trees.[46] The chief of the village received us well: he gave us a good hut, and sent me a supper of rice. He said he had not heard of me all the time I was at Cambaya. The saracolets, to whom I was recommended by Ibrahim’s father, had set out in the morning to cross the woods which separate the Fouta-Dhialon from Baléya. The evening was rather stormy, the sky dark and cloudy, and the heat oppressive. I went to the mosque with my new guide, who shewed me great kindness, and seemed anxious to anticipate all my wishes; he even carried his attention to the length of servility. As I was leaving the mosque the people all thronged round me, and looked at me with great curiosity; Lamfia replied to their questions, and informed them of the circumstances which occasioned me to visit their country: he told them I was a sherif of Mecca,[47] doubtless with the view of rendering me an object of greater respect than I should otherwise have been. The village of Bagaraya is inhabited partly by Dhialonkés and partly by Mandingoes: its population is between three and four hundred. There is a mosque appropriated to the women, who, according to the Mahometan custom, cannot enter that which is attended by the men. On our return to our hut, we had a visit from the chief, who sat a short time with us; he talked very much, and asked me many questions about the way in which I had been treated by the christians: I endeavoured to remove the bad opinion he entertained of us: he imagined that I must have been beaten and ill-treated by the infidels.
We were obliged to stay at Bagaraya the whole of the 31st of May, having to wait for some Mandingo merchants, who proposed travelling in our company; our road to Baléya led through woods which are infested by robbers, and, as our party was not sufficiently strong to resist an attack, we thought it prudent to wait for the merchants who were to join us.
In the course of the day I had many visiters, and received a present of a fowl, together with some rice and milk, which we had for supper. The Mandingoes of Cambaya, to whom I had given medicine and advice, were not by any means so grateful as the Dhialonkés of Bagaraya. These good people told me they were highly gratified in having among them a sherif on his way to Mecca, which place they call Maka. I gave the chief a little cream of tartar, for Lamfia informed him that I had some very good medicines. He sent us a supper, consisting of foigné boiled without being bruised, and a little milk. In the afternoon I observed that two sheep had been killed. I was astonished at this preparation for feasting, and asked the cause of it. I was told that it was to celebrate the marriage of the chief, which was to take place that evening. The chief was a man about fifty or fifty-five years of age, and this was his fourth wife. Several women of the neighbourhood kindled a large fire, for which the friends of the chief sent their slaves to collect wood. On this fire were placed two enormous earthen pots, eighteen or twenty inches in height, and twelve or fourteen in diameter; in the one was boiled rice, and in the other a sheep. Several other women of the village, who came to assist their companions, kindled other fires for cooking a distinct supper for the female friends of the bride. The cooking was performed in the open air; and the cooks were each provided with a large spatula with which they stirred the rice and meat, performing that office by turns. When the rice was sufficiently boiled, it was placed in calabashes of such enormous size, that there were at least a dozen women to each. They arranged the rice in the form of sugar-loaves, smoothing it with their hands, and slightly sprinkling it with cold water. There were provisions enough for at least two hundred negroes, for almost all the inhabitants of the place were to attend the feast, which was to commence at night. The calabashes of rice were removed to a hut belonging to the chief.
Among the Mandingoes, marriages are contracted without much ceremony. When a man sees a woman whom he wishes to marry, he gains the good graces of her parents by sending presents to them as well as to the daughter. The price which the bridegroom is to pay for the bride is agreed upon: it consists of one, two, or three slaves, according to the beauty and other recommendations of the bride. These slaves are given to the mother, who, if satisfied with the price, consents to her daughter’s marriage. The husband defrays all the expence of the nuptial feast, which usually takes place at night, and when it is over, the marriage is consummated, without the observance of any religious ceremony.