The inhabitants of this village make earthen pots. Their wells are ten or twelve feet deep, and the ground in which they are dug is gravelly. They contain good water, of a whitish colour.
At three o’clock in the afternoon we left the village of Borandou. We proceeded northward, to the distance of six miles, over a beautiful open country. In a plain at some distance from the village I saw many large ronniers, or rondiers. The cé was also very abundant. About sun-set we arrived at Syenso a large village, surrounded by walls, and containing a population of about six or seven hundred. On entering it I saw under a large baobab a man singularly dressed. The whole of his body was covered except his hands and feet. His dress was entirely black, and his trowsers, his waistcoat, and the cap, which covered his face as well as his head, appeared to be all in one piece. The cap, which was of a square shape, was adorned with beautiful white ostrich-feathers and on the part which came over his face, like a mask, the eyes, nose and mouth were marked with scarlet. I was informed that this man was a sort of revenue officer and magistrate, and that he was the collector of the passage duties. He was armed with a whip and the inhabitants give him the name of Naferi. All the strangers of the neighbourhood, as well as the caravans which come to the village, pay the passage duties in cowries. The men and women stopped as they passed him, and if any refused to pay the required contribution he had recourse to his whip. Under a tree at a little distance from him I observed a great heap of cowries, which were guarded by a man not masked; they were, I suppose, the day’s receipts. The tax is levied according to the quantity of merchandise, and varies from five to a hundred or two hundred cowries. As the market of Syenso is always well supplied, the duties paid by the traders render the chief of the village very rich.
These custom-house officers are also entrusted with the police of the village. They run, cracking their whips, after the children who make a noise in the streets; but they do not exercise their authority unless when they wear their uniforms. Our caravan was not stopped at the place where the passage money is usually received; but when we arrived, the officers came round to collect the duties. The masked officer looked at me with astonishment, and pointing at me with his finger, asked the other travellers, who the white man was. He continued pointing at me until I was at a considerable distance from him, as if he could not recover from his surprise.
About six o’clock on the morning of the 19th of January, we set off, taking a north-easterly direction. We travelled about seven miles over a soil composed of a mixture of sand and gravel; but very fertile. I remarked several fields which had been recently sown. The country is very open. On the road we found at least three hundred persons going to the market of Tangrera, where we arrived about nine in the morning. At at little distance from the village I saw a man dressed precisely like the officer of customs, whom I had seen the day before at Syenso. He pointed at me with his finger and seemed as much astonished as the other had been. The negroes threw cowries to him, which he counted very carefully, and when the payments were incorrect he seemed very much disposed to use his whip. Tangrera is resorted to by numbers of strangers and is a place of active trade, so that the duties levied by the chief on merchandise produce a considerable revenue. Every day a vast concourse of people repair to the market, which is also visited by caravans from the south, as well as from Ségo, Yamina, and Kayaye. They bring salt, which they exchange for colat-nuts and the cloth of the country.
Tangrera is a sort of entrepôt for these goods. The traders who come directly from the south, and do not wish to go as far as the banks of the Dhioliba, transact business in this town.
At Tangrera an unforseen disappointment occurred to me. My guide, on his arrival, took care to ascertain the value of merchandise. He learned that at Jenné colat-nuts were of very little value, and he consequently determined to proceed by way of Sansanding. I was much vexed when he informed me of this resolution, for I was very reluctant to venture either into that town or Ségo, in both which places I thought I was likely to meet with some unpleasant adventure. I knew that several Europeans had travelled in those parts, and, therefore, there was reason to fear that the inhabitants had become somewhat suspicious. Besides, that direction did not correspond with my plans, on account of the war between Jenné and Ségo, which intercepted all communication between the two countries.
I accordingly resolved to remain at Tangrera, until I should find an opportunity of going to Jenné. My guide accompanied me to the chief, to whom the old chief of Timé had recommended me. I was also accompanied by a saracolet of the country, who had travelled long among the Moors. He spoke the Moorish language very well, and he told me that he had been at El-Arawan, which they call Arawani.
Before I visited the chief, who is of the Bambara sect, I had had a conversation with the saracolet. He advised me to say that I was poor, and the lightness of my baggage, which was carried by my guide, sufficiently proved the truth of the assertion. By way of precaution, I took off my girdle, which contained some pieces of money, for I was afraid that the chief would examine my property. The chief was a venerable-looking old man. We found him lying upon a bullock’s hide, which was spread upon the ground, beneath a large bombax. He was superintending some labourers, who were employed in building huts. One of his brothers, a Mandingo converted to Mahometanism, accompanied us. My guide presented me to the chief, observing that the chief of Timé had requested him to receive me kindly. He then briefly related my adventures, the way in which I had been captured and brought up by the christians, and finally my abode of five months with his brother Baba at Timé. He described in feeling terms the illness and suffering I had undergone. The chief was so old that he could not speak to me; but he manifested his friendly feeling towards me by signs. When I was taking my leave of him he promised to forward me on the first opportunity. I was quartered with a saracolet, whom I supposed to be a Musulman. He had been so formerly, but since his return from his travels he had been in the habit of drinking the beer of the country. He lodged me in a neat little hut, and ordered one of his wives to prepare for me a dinner of rice, with pistachio sauce, and I gave the cook a little salt to season it. My host took me out to shew me the village; he conducted me to some Mahometan Mandingoes, whom I found assembled in large earth-built houses, which served as places of rendezvous for the men, and schools for the Musulman children. There are several of these places in the village. When I entered some were employed in making pagnes, and others in reading the Koran. They immediately laid aside their occupations, and I became the subject of conversation. They made me seat myself beside them on a bullock’s hide, and they sent for a Moor who had come from Sansanding with a caravan of salt, which he wished to exchange for colats.
This Moor was of a very dark complexion. He said that he was a native of Waleth. He asked me many questions about my country and my parents. He inquired their names, which I immediately invented. I told him that my father was named Mohammed-Abdoulkerim, and my mother Mariam, and that my father was a merchant at Alexandria. He asked me whether they were still living. This question was most absurd, as I had just told him that I had left my country in my earliest childhood. I repeated this statement, and he replied—“Since you do not know whether your parents are living, why are you going back to your country? You might as well profess your religion in any other.” I replied that I hoped to find a brother who would, doubtless, make over to me part of the property left by my parents. I added that the delay which I had experienced in prosecuting my journey was a great disappointment to me, and that I wished to avoid travelling during the ensuing rains. He asked me why I did not go to Sansanding. I observed that that would take me considerably out of my road, and might prevent me from reaching Jenné, whither I wished to go. He confirmed the report I had heard of the war between Ségo and Jenné; “but,” added he, “you might by the road I have mentioned proceed to El-Arawan and thence to Mecca.” He likewise told me that all the caravans destined for Jenné had set out, and that I was likely to remain at Tangrera a considerable time before I might find a favourable opportunity to depart. He then left me, and in a few moments returned, bringing a large piece of salt and eighty cowries, which he begged me to accept, observing that I should find salt very dear on the road. The Mandingoes, by signs, expressed their approbation of this generous conduct. This little present was very agreeable to me, for it served to assure me that, even if my resources were exhausted, I should find charitable persons inclined to assist me. My host took me to the market, where I saw a great concourse of people. The market was well supplied with all the necessaries of life, such as rice, yams, foigné, butter, animal and vegetable, salt, snuff, cloths, colats, dried fish, calabashes, butcher’s meat, poultry, and also bullocks and sheep. I observed too, some European articles, glass-beads, gunpowder, flints, &c. I saw many women in the market, with flat earthen plates, in which they sold cakes fried in vegetable butter. These cakes are called maumies. They are sold for cowries, the only current money of the country. Cowry is called kaulo in the language of the natives. I observed in the neighbourhood of the market-place several poor creatures, sitting at the corners of streets, asking charity. I had not seen such a thing as a regular beggar since my departure from the coast. We sat down for a few moments in the shop of a tobacco-dealer, where a great number of people were assembled. He had beside him a heap of cowries, amounting, perhaps, to thirty thousand. These were his day’s receipts. He offered me a little snuff; I thanked him, but observed, that I did not take it. This seemed to astonish him, for the practice of snuff-taking is universal in the village. Throughout almost all Africa, the Mandingoes are the only people who do not smoke. I never saw a woman use a pipe. The snuff which I saw in the tobacconist’s shop smelt very well, and, unlike the usual snuff of the country, it was of a light chesnut colour; that which I saw in the other villages was green, and had but a faint smell.
Both the men and women who were at the market seemed better dressed and cleaner than those I had seen on the road from Timé. Very few of the women had their lips pierced.