Six slaves, their right arms clad in iron, fanned the magnificent prince with ostrich feathers attached to long poles, while round about him were gathered a motley array of his captains and courtiers, gay in burnouses of various colours, or in shirts of black or blue. Behind them followed the war-camel, bestridden by the drummer, Kodgánga, who made the echoes resound with the clang of a couple of kettle-drums, fastened on each side of the animal; and the charivari was swelled by the exertions of three musicians, two of whom played upon horns, and the third upon a bugle. Mention must be made of the long train of the Sultan’s female slaves, or favourites, forty-five in number, all mounted upon horseback, all dressed from head to foot in black cloth, and all guarded by a slave on either side. The procession was terminated by a train of eleven camels, carrying the baggage.
A day or two afterwards, an officer of the Sultan demanded Dr. Barth’s attendance at the palace. He hastened thither; and being admitted into an inner courtyard, found the courtiers sitting on either side of a door, which was protected by screenwork made of very fine reeds. Being desired to sit down, along with his companions, and ignorant whom he should address, he asked in a loud voice if the Sultan ’Abdel-Kadir were present. A clear voice, from behind the screen, answered that he was. When fully satisfied that he was addressing the prince, he proceeded to offer his respects, and present the compliments of the great and powerful British Government, which desired to be on terms of unity with so illustrious a prince. His speech, which he delivered in Arabic, was translated by an interpreter, and received a favourable reply. His presents also were accepted with satisfaction, and the audience ended. Next day he had a second audience, at which he expressed his desire to return to Kúkáwa. After some slight delay, he obtained the Sultan’s leave to depart, and was supplied with a camel and two horsemen to assist him on his journey. Well pleased with the result of his visit to Másená, after the inauspicious circumstances which had attended its commencement, he set out on his return to the capital of Bornú, and arrived there in safety on the 21st of August. He was glad to find Mr. Overweg in excellent spirits, for liberal supplies had been forwarded by the British Government, though looking physically weak and exhausted. The sheikh received him with great cordiality, and he enjoyed a degree of comfort and repose to which he had long been a stranger.
His business, however, was to explore unknown countries, and to open up new paths to the enterprise of commerce. Considering it almost impossible to penetrate southward, on account of the obstacles thrown in his way by the native princes, he meditated a journey westward in the hope of reaching the celebrated city of Timbúktu, at one time the centre of so many extravagant legends. The fulfilment of his projects was delayed by an unhappy calamity. During a short excursion in the neighbourhood of Kúkáwa, Mr. Overweg got wet, caught a chill, and was afterwards seized with a violent fever, which carried him off in a few hours (September 27th). He died, a martyr to science, and one of the many victims of African exploration, in his thirtieth year.
A delay of some weeks was the necessary result of this melancholy event; but Barth, though left alone, was not to be turned aside from the great object of all his labours. His gaze was directed towards the Niger—towards the terra incognita which lay between the route pursued by the French traveller, Caillé, and the region in which Lander and Major Clapperton had achieved so many important discoveries. His preparations completed, he took final leave of Kúkáwa on the 25th of November; and on the 9th of December had crossed the frontier of Háusa. On the 12th he directed his course towards the north-east, and the mountain region of Múniyo. The road waved, serpent-like, through a succession of valleys, the green sides of which were covered with groves and villages. Múniyo takes the form of a wedge, or triangle, the apex projecting towards the desert. The home of a peaceful and industrious population, who flourish under a mild and orderly government, it presents an agreeable contrast to the neighbouring territories, inhabited by nomads. Its rulers, men of courage and energy, have not only been able to defend their country against the attacks of the Babus, but to encroach upon the district of Diggéra, which had submitted to the latter. The chief of this independent province can bring into the field, it is said, an army of 1500 horse and 9000 or 10,000 archers; and his revenue amounts to 30,000,000 kurdi (about £6000) a year, without counting the tax which he levies on the crops.
Barth diverged somewhat to the westward in order to visit U’shek, the largest corn-producing district in western Bornú; it is characterized by a curious alternation of luxuriance and sterility. At the foot of a mountain lies a barren, desolate tract, on the very threshold of which lies an undulating country, bright with date-palms and tamarisks, with crystal pools and rich grasses. Around the town of U’shek spreads a glittering girdle of corn-fields, onion-beds, cotton-fields, in various stages of development. Here the labourer is breaking up the clods and irrigating the soil; there, his neighbour is weeding out his blooming crops. The vegetation everywhere is abundant. The accumulation of refuse prevents you, however, from gaining a general view of the village, which lurks in the sheltering folds of the soil; but the main group of houses surrounds the foot of an eminence, crowned by the habitation of the chief. Observe that while the huts are made of reeds and the stems of millet, the towers in which the grain is pounded are constructed of clay, and ten feet in height.
Beyond U’shek stretches a sandy table-land, waving with a dense growth of reeds, and intersected by fertile valleys. Then comes a spur of the mountain-range which rises in the south-west; an irregular and broken plain, carpeted with grass and broom; a jungle of mimosas, dense thickets of capparis, and at intervals small patches of cultivated land. The climate is intensely hot; the very soil seems to burn; and our traveller, feeling himself ill, was forced to rest. During the night, a cold north-east wind covered him and his followers with the feathery awns of the pennixtum; and they rose in the morning in a condition of indescribable uneasiness. The next night was also cold; but there was no wind.
At Badámuni, the fertile fields are brightened with springs, which feed a couple of lakes, connected by a canal. Notwithstanding this channel of intercommunication, one of these lakes is of fresh water; the other brackish, and strongly impregnated with natron. It is noticeable that in this region all the valleys and all the mountain-chains run from north-east to south-west, and the direction of the two lakes is the same. Their margin is fringed with papyrus, except that at the point where the water turns brackish the papyrus is succeeded by the kumba, the pith of which is edible. Dr. Barth’s two attendants, born on the shores of the Tchad, immediately recognized this species of reed as growing in a similar manner at the point where that great inland sea touches the basins of nature that surround it. It is a curious circumstance that while the lake of fresh water is of a bright blue, and calm and smooth as a mirror, the other is green as the sea, and heaves to and fro in constant commotion, rolling its foamy waves to the beach, which they strew with marine weeds.
The town of Zindu is protected by a rampart and ditch. Its aspect is remarkable: a mass of rock rises in the western quarter; and outside the walls stony ridges run in all directions, throwing forth a myriad crystal streams, which fertilize the tobacco-fields, and secure for the immediate neighbourhood an exceptional fertility. The landscape is enlivened by frequent clumps of date-palms and by the huts of the Touaregs, who conduct a brisk trade in salt. To the south extends an immense piece of ground, utilized, at the time of Dr. Barth’s visit, as a garden of acclimatization. It is easy, let us say, to define the ground-plan of Zindu, but not to depict the stir and movement of which it is the centre, limited as that activity may be, compared with the feverish and far-reaching life of the industrial centres of Europe. Zindu has no other manufacture than that of indigo; nevertheless, its commercial energy is so great that it may justly be termed “the port of the Soudan.”
Here Dr. Barth received the welcome supply of a thousand dollars, which, not to excite suspicion, had been carefully concealed in a couple of sugar barrels. He was enabled, therefore, to purchase the articles necessary for barter or gifts in his expedition to Timbúktu, such as red, white, and yellow burnouses, turbans, cloves, cutlery, beads, and looking-glasses; and on the 30th of January, 1853, he resumed his march.
The country he had to traverse was the scene of incessant warfare between the Fulbi and the independent tribes. At the outset he met with some salt merchants from A’ir, whose picturesque encampments would have delighted an artist’s eye, but did not add to the security of the roads. He arrived in safety, however, on the 5th of February, at Kátséna, and took up his quarters in a residence specially assigned to him. The house was spacious; but so full of ants, that, having rested himself for an hour on a bank of clay, he found that the freebooters had climbed the wall, constructed covered galleries right up to his person, and delivered a combined attack upon his shirt, in which they had eaten large holes.