The governor of Kátséna gave our traveller a courteous reception, and deigned to accept with evident satisfaction the burnouses, cafton, cup, two loaves of sugar, and pistol, which Dr. Barth offered him. The pistol gave him so much pleasure that he asked for a second; and, of course, a refusal was impossible. Thenceforth he ate and drank and walked and slept with his two pistols in his belt, and terrified everybody who approached him by snapping caps in their face. It happened that, at this time, the ghaladima of Sikoto, inspector of Kátséna, was in the town collecting tribute. He was a frank and simple-natured man, neither very generous nor very intelligent, but of benevolent disposition and sociable character. Dr. Barth purchased some silk and cotton stuffs from the looms of Mepè and Kanó, and being very anxious to pursue his journey, waited for the ghaladima to set out, in order to enjoy the advantage of his escort. It was on the 21st of March that this high official, accompanied by our traveller, took his departure. The governor attended them as far as the limits of his jurisdiction, and they had a numerous guard; while, as a further protection against mishaps, they steered to the south, instead of to the west, in which direction war was raging.
It was the happy time of spring; a bloom was on the earth, and a light and perfume in the air; nature put on her greenest attire; the alleluba, the parkia, the cucifera, the bombyx rose in masses of foliage. The country through which the travellers rode was fair and fertile, populous and well cultivated; the pastures echoed with the low of cattle; the fields rejoiced in profuse crops of yams and tobacco. In the district of Maja, cotton, indigo, potatoes were grown on a very large scale. Beyond Kuruyá, a town of 5000 to 6000 souls, the fertility of the land increased, if such increase were possible; the many-rooted banyan, or Indian fig-tree, displayed its colossal splendour:—
“Irregularly spread,
Fifty straight columns propped its lofty head;
And many a long depending shoot,
Seeking to strike its root,
Straight, like a plummet, grew towards the ground;
Some on the lower boughs, which curved their way,
Fixing their bearded fibres, round and round,
With many a ring and wild contortion wound;
Some to the passing wind, at times, with sway
Of gentle motion moving;
Others of younger growth, unmoved, were hung
Like stone-drops from the cavern’s fretted height.”
Bassiaparkia, sorghum, and millet were abundant. But at Kulfi the travellers reached the limit which divides the Mohammedans from the heathens—civilization (imperfect and undeveloped, if you will, but not wholly without a respect for law and order) and barbarism. As Dr. Barth advanced, he seemed to pass from spring to winter; cultivation disappeared; villages ruined and silent bore witness to the desolating work of war; and it was only by the cattle browsing in the scanty pastures that he knew the land was not entirely deserted. At Zekka, a town of some importance, with wall and ditch, he separated from the ghaladima, and, through a dense forest, pushed forward to the ruins of Moniya. He had intended to halt there, but an armed force had encamped at Moniya on the preceding evening, and he retreated into the shelter of the forest until the morning. A day’s march brought him to Zyrmi, a considerable town, the governor of which was formerly chief of the whole province of Zanfara.
On the 31st of March, he stood on the border of the Gúndúmi Desert, of the passage of which Major Clapperton has left so exciting a narrative. It is passable only by a forced march. Dr. Barth began by striking too far to the south, and lost valuable time in the midst of an impervious jungle. Recovering the direct track, he marched all that day, all that night, without seeing any sign of human life, and until the middle of the following day, when he met some horsemen who had been sent forward to meet him, with vessels of water. Two miles further, and he could see the village where the Emir Aliyú had pitched his camp; he was then at war with the people of Gober. For thirty hours he and his followers had marched without a halt; they were completely spent, and the men, in their absolute weariness, fell prostrate upon the ground. The intrepid Barth rallied his energies; his excitement dispelled the sense of fatigue; and he searched his baggage for some valuable gift to the Emir, who was to depart on the following day, for upon him and his favour the success of his enterprise wholly depended. The day glided by, and he had begun to despair of being admitted to an audience; but in the evening the Emir sent him an ox, four fat sheep, and four hundred parcels of rice, and a message to the effect that he awaited his visit. It must be owned that some of these barbaric potentates do things right royally!
Dr. Barth entered the august presence. The Emir immediately seized him by the hand, made him sit down, and interrupted him when he began to excuse himself for not having visited Sokotó before he went to Kúkáwa. His two requests, for the Emir’s safe-conduct as far as Timbúktu, and a royal letter guaranteeing the lives and property of Englishmen visiting his territories, he received very favourably; affirming that his sole thought was for the welfare of humanity, and, consequently, he desired to promote the friendly intercourse of all nations. Next day Barth had another interview, and offered a second supply of presents. He describes the Emir as a strongly built man, of average stature, with a round, full, but not unpleasant face.
On the 4th of April, with the royal letter, of which he had dictated the terms, and a hundred thousand kurdis which the prince had generously sent to him to defray his expenses during his absence, he took up his residence at Vurno, the Emir’s usual abode. The unsavoury condition of the town, which was traversed by a cloaca more disgusting even than those of Italy, surprised and shocked him. Outside the walls, the Gulbi-n-rima formed several basins of stagnant water in the middle of a plain, where the traveller’s camels sadly pined for pasture. The frontiers of three provinces—Kebbi, Adar, and Gober—meet in this arid plain, which, however, after the rainy season, wears a completely different aspect.
The town became more and more deserted; daily its notables departed to join the Emir; though, as a rule, these warriors cared only for their own pleasure, and would sell their weapons for a dram of kola-nut wine. In no part of Negroland did Dr. Barth see less military ardour or more physical depression. Meanwhile, he amused himself by collecting topographical details, studying the history of the country, and making excursions in the neighbourhood; among others to Sokotó, on the river Bugga. It was not until the 23rd of April that the Emir returned to his capital, after an expedition which, if not glorious, had been at least successful. Always generous towards Dr. Barth, he had invited him to meet him, and king and traveller went together to the palace. On the same day, Barth made him a present of a musical box, which appears to be the prize most eagerly coveted by African potentates. The Emir, in his rapture, summoned his grand vizier to see and hear the marvel; but the mysterious box, affected by the climate and the length of the journey it had undergone, refused to pour forth its melodious treasures. However, after a day or two’s labour, Dr. Barth succeeded in repairing it, and releasing its imprisoned streams of music. Who shall describe the Emir’s excess of joy? He proved the sincerity of his gratitude by immediately giving Dr. Barth a commendatory letter to his nephew, the chief of Gando, and the long-expected permission to depart.
Leaving Vurno on the 8th of May, Dr. Barth reached Gando on the 17th. It was the capital of another Fulbi chief, scarcely less powerful than the Emir, whose protection was of the greatest importance to the traveller, because both banks of the Niger were within his territory. It was not obtained without persevering effort—and many gifts, besides frequent bribes to an Arab consul, who had contrived to make himself indispensable to the feeble prince.
On the 4th of June our indefatigable explorer entered the deep valleys of Kebbi, which, in the rainy season, are converted into extensive rice-fields. At Kombara, the governor hospitably sent him all the constituents of a first-class Soudanian repast, from the sheep to the grains of salt and the Dodua cake. Gaumaché, formerly a thriving town, is now a village of slaves. A similarly fatal change has passed over Yara; formerly rich and industrious, rank weeds now grow in its silent streets. But life and death lie cheek by jowl in these fertile regions; and to the ruined towns and deserted villages immediately succeed prolific rice-fields, shaded by clumps of trees.