ALAMEEN-BEN MOHAMMED EL KANEMY.

SHEIKH OF BORNOU.

Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826.

NARRATIVE
OF
TRAVELS AND DISCOVERIES
IN
NORTHERN AND CENTRAL AFRICA,
IN THE YEARS 1822, 1823, AND 1824,

BY MAJOR DENHAM, CAPTAIN CLAPPERTON, AND THE
LATE DOCTOR OUDNEY,

EXTENDING ACROSS THE

GREAT DESERT TO THE TENTH DEGREE OF NORTHERN LATITUDE, AND FROM
KOUKA IN BORNOU, TO SACKATOO, THE CAPITAL OF THE FELLATAH EMPIRE.

WITH

AN APPENDIX,

PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EARL BATHURST, ONE OF HIS
MAJESTY’S PRINCIPAL SECRETARIES OF STATE, AND DEDICATED BY
PERMISSION TO HIS LORDSHIP,

BY MAJOR DIXON DENHAM,
OF HIS MAJESTY’S 17TH REGIMENT OF FOOT,
AND
CAPTAIN HUGH CLAPPERTON,
OF THE ROYAL NAVY,
THE SURVIVORS OF THE EXPEDITION.

LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET.

MDCCCXXVI.

LONDON:
PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.

TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE EARL BATHURST, K.G.
HIS MAJESTY’S PRINCIPAL SECRETARY OF STATE FOR THE COLONIES,
THIS VOLUME,
CONTAINING
AN ACCOUNT OF THEIR DISCOVERIES
MADE UNDER THE AUSPICES OF HIS LORDSHIP,
IS INSCRIBED,
WITH THE GREATEST RESPECT AND GRATITUDE,
BY HIS OBLIGED AND FAITHFUL SERVANTS,

THE AUTHORS.

PREFACE.

By the death of Dr. Oudney, it has fallen to the lot of Captain Clapperton and myself to render an account to the public of our expedition into the interior and central parts of Northern Africa. The sudden departure of my surviving companion, on a second mission, has necessarily thrown the greater part of the burden on myself. I believe, however—for I have not seen any of his papers—that Captain Clapperton, during the lifetime of Dr. Oudney, made but few remarks himself beyond the construction of the chart of our route, from daily observations of the latitude, and of lunars for the longitude, whenever favourable opportunities occurred; but, subsequently to the death of his travelling companion, which happened at an early stage of their journey into Soudan, a journal of his proceedings and remarks appears to have been regularly kept; and this, together with other documents connected with that journey, were left at his departure in the hands of Mr. Barrow, with a request that he would see them through the press.

It may naturally enough be asked, Why something more than a short excursion to the westward of Mourzuk, and a few notes, do not appear from the pen of Dr. Oudney in the present volume? I can only answer the question by the fact, that the only papers placed in my hands consist of “An Itinerary from Mourzuk to Bornou;” and “An Excursion to the Westward of Mourzuk;” neither of which have been deemed fit for publication in extenso, from their imperfect state, and containing very little beyond what will be found in my own journals. I have, however, printed in foot notes such parts of them as have been pointed out to me. Not a paper of his, to my knowledge, has been lost or destroyed; and I can only account for the unsatisfactory state in which they have been found, from the circumstance of his ill health, which became extremely precarious from the moment of our departure from Mourzuk, where he had caught a cold, which settled on his lungs, and never left him. On our arrival at Kouka, and frequently afterwards, he experienced so many attacks of fever, that there appeared little hope of his surviving to return to England, which was indeed his own opinion; and when he set out on his last journey towards Soudan, he was so exhausted, and in a state so unfit for such an undertaking, that he fell a martyr to his zeal very soon after his departure, though, had he remained at Kouka, the melancholy event would not, in all probability, have been prolonged many days.

My own expeditions in various parts of Bornou, in Mandara, and Loggun, and the two fruitless attempts I made to complete the tour of the great lake Tchad, will be found to occupy a considerable portion of the volume; and being made in countries, and among a people unknown to Europeans,—many of them even by name or report,—it is hoped that observations, faithfully and circumstantially minuted down at the time and spot, will not be found tedious or uninteresting to the reader.

It will, perhaps, be thought by some, that I have been more minute than necessary in the account of our journey across that tremendous desert which lies between Mourzuk and Bornou, and which, generally speaking, is made up of dark frowning hills of naked rock, or interminable plains, strewed in some places with fragments of stone and pebbles, in others of one vast level surface of sand, and, in others again, the same material rising into immense mounds, altering their form and position according to the strength and direction of the winds. But, even in the midst of this dreary waste, towns, villages, wandering tribes, and kafilas, or caravans, sometimes occur to break the solitude of this dismal belt, which seems to stretch across Northern Africa, and, on many parts of which, not a living creature, even an insect, enlivens the scene. Still, however, the halting places at the wells, and the wadeys or valleys, afford an endless source of amusement to the traveller, in witnessing the manners, and listening to the conversation, of the various tribes of natives, who, by their singing and dancing, their story telling, their quarrelling and fighting, make him forget, for a time, the ennui and fatigue of the day’s journey.

As for the rest, I have to trust to its novelty, for its recommendation to the public, rather than to any powers of writing, which I pretend not to possess; and it is now a source of great satisfaction to me that, under all my difficulties, and they were not few, I was able to adhere to the resolution I set out with, of recording, at the end of each day, the occurrences, however trifling, that had taken place.

To Sir Robert Ker Porter, my friend since the days of boyhood, I am indebted for having perfected several drawings, with his experienced pencil, from my hasty, but yet faithful sketches, of the people and scenery of Central Africa. His eye was nearly as familiar as my own with the picturesque objects they display; and, indeed, all who are acquainted with the published narrative of his Researches amongst the Remains of Ancient Persia and Babylonia, might readily recognise the same hand, in these his spirited delineations of African costume and character.

DIXON DENHAM.

Albany, London,
Jan. 1st. 1826.

Map of the Travels and Discoveries made in Northern & Central Africa, by D^r. Oudney, Major Denham, & Captⁿ. Clapperton, R.N. in the Years 1822, 3, & 4.

J. & C. Walker Sculpt.

[(Large-size)]

Published as the Act directs Feb^y. 1826, by John Murray Albemarle Street London.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF PLATES.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

BY MAJOR DENHAM.

FROM TRIPOLI TO MOURZUK.

Previous to any knowledge I had received of the intentions of His Majesty’s government to follow up the mission of Mr. Ritchie and Captain Lyon, I had volunteered my services to Lord Bathurst to proceed to Timbuctoo, by nearly the same route which Major Laing is now pursuing. I learnt, in reply, that an expedition had been planned, and that Doctor Oudney and Lieutenant Clapperton, both of the navy, were appointed; and with these gentlemen, by the kindness of Lord Bathurst, I was, at my request, associated. My companions left London before me; but, as soon as ready, I lost no time in proceeding in the packet to Malta, where I found that they had left the island for Tripoli nearly a month before. By the kindness of Admiral Sir Graham Moore, Sir Manley Power, Sir Richard Plasket, and Captain Woolley, commissioner of the dock-yard, all my wants were amply supplied; and judging that the assistance of a shipwright or carpenter might prove of essential use, and being allowed by my instructions to engage any one, at a reasonable salary, who might choose to volunteer to accompany the mission, William Hillman, shipwright, a man of excellent character, immediately offered his services, on an agreement that he should receive 120l. a year so long as he should continue to be employed.

I embarked in the Express schooner, which the admiral lent me for the purpose, and, on the 18th November, after three days’ sail, arrived at Tripoli, and found my two companions at the house of Mr. Consul Warrington, anxiously expecting my arrival. Of this gentleman it is not too much to say, that by his cheerful and good humoured disposition, his zeal, perseverance, and extraordinary good management, we owe, in a great degree, that influence which England possesses with this government far beyond that of any other of the Barbary powers. The English name, in fact, is of such importance in Tripoli, that there is scarcely a point to carry, or a dispute to settle, in which the bashaw does not request the interference of the British consul: and to him, indeed, is, in a great degree, owing the origin and success of the late mission. He stated broadly to the government at home, that the road from Tripoli to Bornou was as open as that from London to Edinburgh; which, with a small allowance for Oriental hyperbole, was found to be true—witness the journey of my lamented friend Lieutenant Toole, and also of Mr. Tyrwhitt, the latter laden with valuable presents.

But this is not all: the British flag has a peculiar power of protection, and the roof of the English consul always affords a sanctuary to the perpetrator of any crime, not even excepting murder; and scarcely a day passes that some persecuted Jew or unhappy slave, to escape the bastinado, does not rush into the court-yard of the British consulate for protection. A circumstance occurred in returning from one of our excursions, which shows in what high estimation the English character is held in Tripoli. A poor wretch, who, for some trifling offence, was sentenced to five hundred bastinadoes, having, while on his way to receive the sentence of the law, contrived to slip from the custody of his guards, fortunately met with the child and servant of Doctor Dickson, a most respectable and intelligent English physician practising in Tripoli: the condemned wretch, with wonderful presence of mind, snatched up the child in his arms, and halted boldly before his pursuers. The talisman was sufficiently powerful: the emblem of innocence befriended the guilty, and the culprit walked on uninterrupted, triumphantly claiming the protection of the British flag.

But the following proves still more strongly to what extent the influence of the British flag might be carried.—Since the reduction of the refractory Arabs to submission, no chief had received such repeated marks of kindness and attention from the bashaw, as sheikh Belgassam ben Khalifa, head of the powerful tribe of El Gibel. At the particular request of the former, sheikh Khalifa had quitted his tents and flocks, resided in the city, and was high in his prince’s confidence—fatal pre-eminence in Barbary states!—and had been presented, but a few months before, with one of the most beautiful gardens in the Minshea. Returning from the castle after an evening of music and dancing in the bashaw’s private apartments, Belgassam kissed the hand that had signed his death-warrant, and took his leave. At his own door a pistol-shot wounded him in the arm, and on entering the skiffa, or passage, a second entered his body. The old sheikh, after his slave had fastened the door, staggered to his carpet, and then, in the arms of his wife, proclaimed his assassin to be his own nephew, sheikh Mahmoud Belgassam Wildé Sowdoweah. The work being, however, but half done, others rushed in, and seven stabs put an end to his sufferings, notwithstanding the screams of his wife, who received two wounds herself, in endeavouring to save her husband. The poor old man was almost instantly buried, and the three persons who had undertaken the murder fled to the British consulate for protection. Early the next morning, however, the consul despatched his dragoman to give the bashaw notice, “that the murderers of Khalifa would find no protection under the flag of England.” The bashaw said, “he was shocked at the murder, and regretted the assassins having taken refuge in the consulate, as it was a sanctuary he could not violate, particularly as he understood they meant to resist, and were well armed.” Our consul replied, “that the bashaw was at liberty to send any force he pleased, and use any means he thought best, to drag them from beneath a banner that never was disgraced by giving protection to assassins.” The minister also came and expressed the bashaw’s delicacy; and it was evident he did not expect such would be the conduct of the consul: he was, however, peremptory, and the bashaw dared not seem to favour such an act of villany. It was sunset before he decided on taking them away, when about sixteen of the chosen people of the castle entered the consulate, and the wretches, although provided with arms, which they had loaded, tremblingly resigned themselves, and were, in less than an hour, hanging over the walls of the castle.

On a day appointed we waited on the bashaw. After passing the court-yard, crowded with guards, and several groups of Arabs in the passages and ante-rooms playing at cards or dice, we were introduced to the audience chamber, where the bashaw, sitting cross-legged on a carpet, supported by his two sons, and attended by armed negroes, received us kindly, ordered us to be served with sherbet and coffee, and expressed himself in the most favourable manner on the subject of our mission, which he promised to forward in safety into the interior of Africa. He invited us to join him in a hawking party. The cavalcade, consisting of about three hundred, altogether presented so novel an appearance, that I shall endeavour to give some description of our morning’s amusement. The bashaw was mounted on a milk-white Arabian, superbly caparisoned, with saddle of crimson velvet richly studded with gold nails, heavy stirrups of the same, and trappings of embroidered cloth hanging down on each side nearly to the horse’s fetlock joint; he was preceded by six chaoushes, or officers, also mounted and richly caparisoned, armed with long guns, swords, and pistols, and a white silk barracan thrown loosely and gracefully round their bodies. His highness was supported on each side by a favourite black slave, whose glittering vest, light bornouse, and white turban, formed a pleasing contrast to the costume of the Arabs. We proceeded in a westerly direction; and on arriving at the desert, parties of six and eight dashed forward, with the rapidity of lightning, several hundred paces, fired, immediately halted in a most surprising manner, and with loud cries rushed back again to the main body, when instantly the same ceremony was repeated by another party. Their superior skill in the management of their horses is really beautiful; and the way they manœuvre their long musket, by repeatedly spinning it over their heads at full speed, has a most picturesque effect. Near the bashaw’s person rode Sidy Ali, his third son, although second in succession, in consequence of the banishment of the eldest; he also was attended by his particular guard of Arabs, distinguished not only by their superior and determined appearance, but by their figured muslin bornouses. Sidy Ali is the bashaw’s favourite son, and is particularly handsome, although what we should call too fat, and is said to resemble very much what the bashaw was at his age: he is allowed great privilege and liberty, which is indeed proved by his saying, the other day, to his father, “I shall succeed you as bashaw.” “How do you mean?” “How? why, by taking the same steps you did yourself,” said the youth.

I was invited, with my colleagues, to pass a day about five miles from Tripoli, at the garden of Mahomed D’Ghies, to whom I brought letters from his son, who was residing in London, much noticed and respected. This old gentleman had been minister for foreign affairs to the bashaw, but had retired from office some time, on account of a complaint in his eyes. He is a most respectable man, and particularly kind to all European travellers who visit Tripoli; and so well known throughout Northern Africa, that letters of credit from him are sure to be duly honoured. Nothing could exceed the hospitality and attention with which we were received: having regaled ourselves with sherbet, coffee, and tobacco, several times in the course of the day, and partaken of an excellent dinner, à la Turque, in a grove of lemon and orange trees, we returned in the evening to Tripoli, well pleased with our day’s excursion.

Tripoli has been so often described, that I shall pass it over in silence. Its Jews, its Arabs, its Moors, and Maraboots; the slave population, and the bashaw’s family; are all so well painted to the life in “Tully’s Letters,” as to require no further notice from me as a casual visitor. Neither is it my intention to enter into a minute description of the country between Tripoli and Mourzuk; the surface of which is not essentially different from that between Mourzuk and Bornou, and has already been noticed by Captain Lyon, and in the communications to the African Association.

On the 5th March, 1822, I left Tripoli for Benioleed[1], to join my two companions, who had proceeded thither with our servants, horses, camels, and baggage. They had gone on to Memoom, a very pretty valley, which, at this season of the year, was green with herbage, and adorned by flowers of various hues and colours, richly scattered in beautiful disorder;—but it was the last of the kind we were fortunate enough to meet with between this place and Bornou; and here the consul and his son, who had accompanied us from Tripoli, took their leave, with many hearty good wishes for our success and prosperity.

PART OF THE STONY DESERT.

NEAR SOCKNA.

Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London.

On the day previous to our approach to Sockna, a town about half way between Tripoli and Mourzuk, which we reached in fourteen days, the uniformity of the journey was somewhat enlivened, by meeting with a kafila of slaves, from Fezzan, in which were about seventy negresses, much better looking, and more healthy, than any we had seen near the sea-coast. They were marching in parties of fifteen or twenty; and on our inquiring of one of those parties from whence they came, the poor things divided themselves with the greatest simplicity, and answered, “Soudan, Begharmi, and Kanem,” pointing out the different parcels, from each country, as they spoke: those from Soudan had the most regular features, and an expression of countenance particularly pleasing.

Passing a small wadey and plantation of date trees, we had soon a view of Sockna, and were met on the plain, on which it stands, by the governor and principal inhabitants, accompanied by some hundreds of the country people, who all crowded round our horses, kissing our hands, and welcoming us with every appearance of sincerity and satisfaction; and in this way we entered the town: the words “Inglesi! Inglesi!” were repeated by a hundred voices from the crowd. This, to us, was highly satisfactory, as we were the first English travellers in Africa who had resisted the persuasion that a disguise was necessary, and who had determined to travel in our real character as Britons and Christians, and to wear, on all occasions, our English dresses; nor had we, at any future period, occasion to regret that we had done so. There was here no jealousy, nor distrust of us as Christians; on the contrary, I am perfectly satisfied that our reception would have been less friendly had we assumed a character that could have been at best but ill supported. In trying to make ourselves appear as Mussulmans, we should have been set down as real impostors.

The dates of Sockna are excellent, and in abundance: our animals were liberally supplied with this fruit of fruits; and after the first two days appeared to eat them nearly as well as corn. The population of Sockna must be considerably more than three thousand. The town is walled, and about a mile in circumference: has eight gates; and wears altogether a clean and neat appearance that surprised us. The women are certainly very pretty, and are said to be remarkable for their love of intrigue. This may be true, or not; but we had no opportunity of ascertaining it from our own knowledge. Of their affability and good humour, however, we had many proofs; and while only two of us were walking through the town one morning, with a little army of ragged boys following us, two, of rather the better order, quickly dispersed them; and invited us to enter a house, saying that a mara zene (a beautiful woman) wished to see us. We put ourselves under their guidance, and entering a better sort of dwelling-house, were quickly surrounded by at least half-a-dozen ladies, most of them aged; but who asked us a thousand questions, and, when satisfied we were not dangerous, called several younger ones, who appeared to be but waiting for permission to appear. Our dresses and ourselves were then minutely examined. The yellow buttons on our waistcoats, and our watches, created the greatest astonishment; and a pair of loose white trowsers that I wore, into the pockets of which I accidentally put my hands, raised their curiosity to a wonderful degree: my hands were pulled out, and those of three or four of the ladies thrust in, in their stead: these were replaced by others, all demanding their use so loudly and violently, that I had considerable difficulty in extricating myself, and was glad to make my escape. The dress of the Sockna women is nearly that of the Tripoline: they wear striped shirts, of silk or linen, large silver ear-rings, with leg-lets and arm-lets of the same: the lower classes wear those of glass or horn.

The remaining half of our journey to Mourzuk was over pretty nearly the same kind of surface as that we had passed before; in some places worse. Sometimes two, and once three days, we were without finding a supply of water; which was generally muddy, bitter, or brackish: nor is this the worst that sometimes befalls the traveller. The overpowering effects of a sudden sand-wind, when nearly at the close of the desert, often destroys a whole kafila, already weakened by fatigue; and the spot was pointed out to us, strewed with bones and dried carcasses, where the year before fifty sheep, two camels, and two men, perished from thirst and fatigue, when within eight hours’ march of the well which we were anxiously looking out for.

Indeed the sand-storm we had the misfortune to encounter in crossing the desert gave us a pretty correct idea of the dreaded effects of these hurricanes. The wind raised the fine sand with which the extensive desert was covered, so as to fill the atmosphere, and render the immense space before us impenetrable to the eye beyond a few yards. The sun and clouds were entirely obscured, and a suffocating and oppressive weight accompanied the flakes and masses of sand, which, I had almost said, we had to penetrate at every step. At times we completely lost sight of the camels, though only a few yards before us. The horses hung their tongues out of their mouths, and refused to face the torrents of sand. A sheep, that accompanied the kafila, the last of our stock, lay down on the road, and we were obliged to kill him, and throw the carcass on a camel. A parching thirst oppressed us, which nothing alleviated. We had made but little way by three o’clock in the afternoon, when the wind got round to the eastward, and refreshed us something: with this change we moved on until about five, when we halted, protected a little by three several ranges of irregular hills, some conical, and some table-topped. As we had but little wood, our fare was confined to tea; and we hoped to find relief from our fatigues by a sound sleep. That was, however, denied us; the tent had been imprudently pitched, and was exposed to the east wind, which blew a hurricane during the night: the tent was blown down, and the whole detachment were employed a full hour in getting it up again; and our bedding and every thing that was within it was, during that time, completely buried by the constant driving of the sand. I was obliged, three times during the night, to get up for the purpose of strengthening the pegs; and when, in the morning, I awoke, two hillocks of sand were formed on each side of my head, some inches high.

On the 7th April we arrived at a village in the midst of a vast multitude of palm trees, just one day’s journey short of Mourzuk. As it was to be the last day’s march, we were all in good spirits at the prospect of rest; and had we made our arrangements with judgment, every thing would have gone on well. We had, however, neglected sending on to advise the sultan of our arrival—a constant practice, and consequently our reception was not what it ought to have been. We arrived at D’leem, a small plantation of date trees, at noon, and finding no water in the well, were obliged to proceed; and it was three in the afternoon before we arrived at the wells near Mourzuk. Here we were obliged to wait until the camels came up, in order that we might advance in form. We might, however, have saved ourselves the trouble:—no one came out to meet us, except some naked boys, and a mixture of Tibboos, Tuaricks, and Fezzanese, who gazed at us with astonishment, and no very pleasant aspect.

We determined on not entering the town in a manner so little flattering to those whom we represented: and retiring to a rising ground, a little distance from the gates of the town, waited the return of a chaoush, who had been despatched to announce our arrival. After half an hour’s delay, the sheikh El Blad (the governor of the town) came out, and, in the sultan’s name, requested we would accompany him to the house which had been prepared for us; and he added, to our great surprise, the English consul is there already. The fact was, a very ill-looking Jew servant of mine, mounted on a white mule, with a pair of small canteens under him, had preceded the camels, and entered the town by himself: he was received with great respect by all the inhabitants—conducted through the streets to the house which was destined to receive us; and from the circumstance of the canteens being all covered with small brass shining nails, a very high idea of his consequence was formed. He very sensibly received all their attentions in silence, and drank the cool water and milk which was handed to him: and we always had the laugh against them afterwards, for having shown so much civility to an Israelite—a race they heartily despise. “We thought the English,” said they, “were better looking than Jews—Death to their race! but then God made us all, though not all handsome like Mussulmans, so who could tell?” As we were all this time exposed to a burning sun, we were well inclined to compromise a little of our dignity, and determined on entering the town, which we did by the principal gate. The walls are well built, at least twenty feet high; and the gate sufficiently wide to admit, with care, a loaded camel. You pass through the fsug, slave-market, a wide street, with houses on each side, three hundred yards in length. It leads into an open space, in the centre of which the castle stands, surrounded by a second wall. In the inside of this inner wall, in the castle yard, are a few houses, originally built for the Mamelukes, and particular followers of the late sultan, when they were subject to the occasional attacks of the Arabs. In one of these, the house occupied by the late Mr. Ritchie and Captain Lyon, arrangements were made for our reception. Almost as soon as the camels were unloaded, we paid our respects to the sultan: he received us with a great deal of affability and good nature, and made an impression in his favour, which, however, his subsequent conduct tended but little to strengthen.

CASTLE AT MOURZUK.

FROM M^R. RITCHIE’S GRAVE.

Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London.

Our interview with the sultan of Mourzuk was any thing but encouraging: he told us that there was no intention, as we had been led to expect, of any expedition to proceed to the southward for some time to come; that an army could only move in the spring of the year; that the arrangements for moving a body of men through a country where every necessary must be carried on camels, both for men and horses, were so numerous, that before the following spring it was scarcely possible to complete them: that two camels were required for every man and horse, and one for every two men on foot. And as to our proceeding to Bornou, it would be necessary, had the bashaw instructed him to forward us, that we should be accompanied by an escort of two hundred men. He said he would read to us the bashaw’s letter, and we should see the extent to which he could forward our wishes. The letter was then handed to his fighi, or secretary; and we found that to the protection of the sultan of Fezzan were we intrusted, who was to charge himself with our safety, and so insure our being treated with respect and attention by all his subjects; that we were to reside at Sebha, or Mourzuk, or where we chose in the kingdom of Fezzan, and to await his return from Tripoli. With this our audience ended, and we returned to our habitation.

It is quite impossible to express the disheartening feelings with which we left the castle. The heat was intense; the thermometer at 97° in the coolest spot in the house, during the middle of the day; and the nights were scarcely less oppressive: the flies were in such myriads, that darkness was the only refuge from their annoyance. All poor Mr. Ritchie’s sufferings and disappointments were brought to our recollections; and although, from the arrangements which we had been able to make, we were better provided with necessaries than those who had gone before us,—yet did we consider our stock as a very sacred charge, applicable only to the grand objects of our expedition.

We received visits from all the principal people of Mourzuk the day after our arrival; and remarking a very tall Tuarick, with a pair of expressive, large, benevolent-looking eyes, above the black mask with which they always cover the lower part of their face, hovering about the door, I made signs to him to come near, and inquired after Hateeta, the chief Captain Lyon had spoken so highly of, and for whom, at his request, I was the bearer of a sword. To my great surprise, striking his breast, he exclaimed, “I am Hateeta! are you a countryman of Said[2]?—how is he? I have often longed to hear of him.” I found Hateeta had been but once in Mourzuk since Captain Lyon’s departure, and was now only to remain a few days. On the following morning he came to the house, and the sword was presented to him. It would be difficult to describe his delight; he drew the sword and returned it, repeatedly; pressed it to his breast, exclaimed “Allah, Allah!” took my hand, and pressing it, said “Katar heyrick yassur yassur” (thank you very very much); nearly all the Arabic he could speak. It was shortly reported all over the whole town, that Hateeta had received a present from Said, worth one hundred dollars.

12th.—We had been several times visited, and our hopes and spirits raised, by a person called Boo-Bucker Boo-Khaloom. He said that it was in the sultan’s power to send us on to Bornou if he pleased: he even hinted that a bribe for himself might induce him to do so—this, however, we found was not the case. Boo-Khaloom was represented to us, and truly, as a merchant of very considerable riches and influence in the interior. He was on the eve of starting for Tripoli, with really superb presents for the bashaw. He had five hundred slaves, the handsomest that could be procured, besides other things. He stated to us, secretly, that his principal object in going to Tripoli was to obtain the removal of the present sultan of Fezzan; and wished that we should make application to the bashaw for him to accompany us farther into the interior: we were not, however, to hint that the proposition had come from him. Boo-Khaloom said that he should be instantly joined by upwards of one hundred merchants who waited but for his going, and no further escort would be necessary; that he should merely remain a few weeks in Tripoli, and, on his return, we could instantly move on. The substance of all these conversations was transmitted to Colonel Warrington.

Boo-Khaloom left Mourzuk for Tripoli, with his slaves and presents; loading upwards of thirty camels, apparently reconciled to, and upon good terms with, the sultan. It was, however, very well known that Sultan Mustapha had set every engine at work to have Boo-Khaloom’s head taken off on his arrival in Tripoli; and that the other was willing to sacrifice all he was worth to displace and ruin Mustapha in the bashaw’s favour.

It was not till the 18th, that the sultan, after attending the mosque, started for Tripoli; all his camels and suite had marched in divisions, for three days previous,—in slaves he had alone more than one thousand five hundred. He was attended by about ten horsemen, his particular favourites, and four flags were carried before him through the town. The inhabitants complained dreadfully of his avarice, and declared that he had not left a dollar, or an animal worth one, in all Fezzan.

Nothing was now to be done but to make our arrangements for a favourable start the following spring. By the sultan’s departure, every necessary for our proceeding was withdrawn from the spot where we were. Not a camel was to be procured, and every dollar, that he could by any means force from his subjects, was forwarded to Tripoli. To Tripoli, therefore, were we to look for supplies of every kind; and it was decided by us all, that my departure had better follow his as soon as possible.

In pursuance of our determination to represent to the bashaw of Tripoli how necessary it was that something more than promises should be given us for our sterling money, on Monday, the 20th May, I left Mourzuk, with only my own negro servant Barca, three camels, and two Arabs; and, after a most dreary journey of twenty days, over the same uninteresting country I had already traversed,—the more dreary for want of my former companions,—I arrived at Tripoli on the 12th June, where I was received by the consul with his usual hospitality and kindness, and he assigned me apartments in the consulate.

12th.—I requested an immediate audience of the bashaw, which in consequence of the Rhamadan was not granted me until the following evening. The consul, Captain Smyth of the navy, and myself, attended: I represented, in the strongest terms, how greatly we were disappointed at the unexpected and ruinous delay we had experienced in Mourzuk, and requested a specific time being fixed for our proceeding to Bornou; stating, also, that were the answer not satisfactory, I should proceed forthwith to England, and represent to the government how grievously we had been deceived. The bashaw denied having intentionally broken his word, and solemnly declared that the will of God, in visiting the sultan of Fezzan with sickness, had alone prevented our being now on the road to Bornou.

A voyage to Marseilles, on my way to England, was the consequence of our altercation with the bashaw; and the promptitude with which it was decided upon, and carried into effect, by means of a small French vessel which, at the time, most fortunately lay in the harbour, was not without its good effects. The bashaw sent three despatches after me, by three different vessels, to Leghorn, Malta, and the port I had sailed to, which I received in quarantine, informing me, that Boo-Khaloom was appointed with an escort to convey us forthwith to Bornou. This was every thing I wished for; and immediately re-embarking, a seven days’ passage brought me once more to the shores of Barbary. Boo-Khaloom and part of the escort were already at the entrance to the desert; and on the 17th of September we re-entered the pass of Melghra in the Tarhona mountains. Hope and confidence had taken possession of my mind, in the place of anxiety and disappointment; there was now an air of assurance and success in all our arrangements; and I felt my health and spirits increase with this conviction. But little beyond the casualties attendant on desert travelling occurred, previous to our arriving again at Sockna, which we did on the 2d of October.

I found the great failing of my friend, Boo-Khaloom, was pomp and show; and feeling that he was, on this occasion, the bashaw’s representative, he was evidently unwilling that any sultan of Fezzan should exceed him in magnificence. On entering Sockna, his six principal followers, handsomely attired in turbans and fine barracans, and mounted on his best horses, kept near his person, whilst the others, at a little distance, formed the flanks. I rode on his right hand, dressed in my British uniform, with loose Turkish trowsers, a red turban, red boots, with a white bornouse over all, as a shade from the sun; and this, though not strictly according to order, was by no means an unbecoming dress. Boo-Khaloom was mounted on a beautiful white Tunisian horse, a present from the bashaw, the peak and rear of the saddle covered with gold, and his housings were of scarlet cloth, with a border of gold six inches broad. His dress consisted of red boots, richly embroidered with gold, yellow silk trowsers, a crimson velvet caftan with gold buttons, a silk benise of sky blue, and a silk sidria underneath: a transparent white silk barracan was thrown lightly over this, and on his shoulders hung a scarlet bornouse with wide gold lace, a present also from the bashaw, which had cost, at least, four hundred dollars; a cashmere shawl turban crowned the whole. In this splendid array, we moved on until, as we approached the gates of the town, the dancing and singing men and women met us; and, amidst these, the shouts and firing of the men, who skirmished before us, and the “loo! loo!” of the women, we entered Sockna.

We found that houses were provided for us in the town; but the kafila bivouacked outside the gates. It had always been our intention to halt at Sockna, for three or four days; and here we expected to be joined by a party of the Megarha Arabs, whom their sheikh, Abdi Smud ben Erhoma, had left us, for the purpose of collecting together. Hoon and Wadan were also to furnish us with another quota. My house consisted of a court-yard eighteen feet square, and a small dark room, leading out of it by two steps: the court, however, was the greater part of the day shaded; and here, on a carpet, I received my visitors. The Arabs, as they arrived, were all sent to me by Boo-Khaloom; and their presentation has a form in it, not much in character with their accustomed rudeness: they all came armed with their long guns; and the same girdle which confines their barracan contains also two long pistols. The chief enters, and salutes, dropping on one knee, and touching the stranger’s right hand with his, which he carries afterwards to his lips; he then says, “Here are my men, who are come to say health to you.” On receiving permission, they approached me, one by one, saluting in the same manner as their chief, who continued to remain at my side: they then sat down, forming a sort of semicircle round me, with their guns upright between their knees; and, after a little time, on the sheikh making a signal, they all quitted the presence.

Boo-Khaloom, who had suffered very considerably from fever, cold, and ague, now became so seriously ill, that our departure was of necessity postponed, and he insisted upon my prescribing for him, saying, “he was quite sure that I could cure him, if it was the will of God that he should live: if not, that nobody could.” His confidence in me gave me some confidence in myself: but alone, with very few medicines, and less skill, my situation was really one of great anxiety; for no one could foresee what might have been the consequence, had any thing serious happened to him while under my hands. He became alarmingly ill, and for two days and nights I had great doubts of his recovery; to my great satisfaction, however, on the third morning, after a night of pain and delirium (and which I had passed in watching by his side), a violent eruption appeared on his skin, with some little moisture, produced by covering him up the whole day with blankets, and suffering no one to come into the room but his favourite female slave. By the evening, he became much better.—Hajamad, or charms, are what the Arabs have most faith in, when they are ill. All the fighis (writers) and maraboots in Sockna were employed on this occasion by my friend’s friends, and one night the tassels of his cap were literally loaded with them. He assured me, when alone, that he had no faith in such things, and smiled when he said his friends would think ill of him, were he to refuse; his faith, however, was stronger than he chose to acknowledge, and entering, unexpectedly, one morning, I found him with a dove that had been just killed and cut open lying on his head, which, as he assured me, was because a very great maraboot had come from Wadan on purpose to perform the operation.

During our stay at Sockna, the marriage of the son of one of the richest inhabitants, Hadgi Mohammed-el-Hair-Trigge, was celebrated in the true Arab style. There is something so rudely chivalric in their ceremonies (so very superior to the dull monotony of a Tripolitan wedding), where from one to five hundred guests, all males, assemble, covered with gold lace, and look at one another, from the evening of one day until daylight the next, that I cannot help describing them.

The morning of the marriage-day (for the ceremony is always performed in the evening, that is, the final ceremony; for they are generally betrothed, and the fatah read, a year before) is ushered in by the music of the town or tribe, consisting of a bagpipe and two small drums, serenading the bride first, and then the bridegroom, who generally walks through the streets very finely dressed, with all the town at his heels; during which time, the women all assemble at the bride’s house, dressed in their finest clothes, and place themselves at the different holes in the wall which serve as windows, and look into the court-yard. When they are so placed, and the bride is in front of one of the windows with her face entirely covered with her barracan, the bridal clothes, consisting of silk shifts, shawls, silk trowsers, and fine barracans, to show her riches, are hung from the top of the house, quite reaching to the ground: the young Arab chiefs are permitted to pay their respects; they are preceded from the skiffa, or entrance, by their music, and a dancing woman or two advances with great form, and with slow steps, to the centre of the court, under the bride’s window: here the ladies salute their visitors, with “loo! loo! loo!” which they return by laying their right hand on their breasts, as they are conducted quite round the circle. Ample time is afforded them to survey the surrounding beauties; and there are but few, who, on these occasions, are so cruel as to keep the veil quite closed. Such an assemblage of bright black eyes, large ear-rings, and white teeth, are but rarely seen in any country, I should suppose. After having made the circuit, the largess is given, and exposed to view by the chief danseuse, and, according to its amount, is the donor hailed and greeted by the spectators. Previous to their departure, all visitors discharge their pistols, and then again the ladies salute with the “loo! loo!” So far from being displeased at my asking permission to pay my respects, they considered it as a favour conferred; and the bridegroom, although he could not himself be admitted, attended me to and from the house of his mistress. This ceremony being ended, a little before sunset, the bride prepares to leave her father’s house: a camel is sent for her with a jaafa[3], or sedan chair of basket-work, on its back, covered with skins of animals, shawls from Soudan, Cairo, and Timbuctoo: she steps into this, and so places herself as to see what is going forward, and yet to be entirely hid from the view of others. She is now conducted outside the town, where all the horsemen and footmen who have arms are assembled. Our escort on this occasion added greatly to the effect, as they were all, by Boo-Khaloom’s order, in the field, consisting of sixty mounted Arabs; and when they all charged and fired at the foot of the bride’s camel, I really felt for the virgin’s situation; but it was thought a great honour, and that, I suppose, consoled her for the fright. They commenced by skirmishing by twos and fours, and charging in sections at full speed, always firing close under the bride’s jaafa: in this manner they proceeded three times round the town, the scene occasionally relieved by a little interlude of the bridegroom’s approaching the camel, which was surrounded by the negresses, who instantly commenced a cry, and drove him away, to the great amusement of the bystanders, exclaiming, “Burra! Burra! be off! be off! mazal shouia! a little yet!” With discharges of musketry, and the train of horsemen, &c. she is then conveyed to the bridegroom’s house; upon which it is necessary for her to appear greatly surprised, and refuse to dismount: the women scream, and the men shout, and she is at length persuaded to enter; when, after receiving a bit of sugar in her mouth from the bridegroom’s hand, and placing another bit in his, with her own fair fingers, the ceremony is finished, and they are declared man and wife.

A WOMAN OF SOCKNA.

Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826.

We had now to pass the Gibel Assoud, or Black Mountains: the northernmost part of this basaltic chain commences on leaving Sockna. We halted at Melaghi, or the place of meeting immediately at the foot of the mountain, the well of Agutifa; and from hence probably the most imposing view of these heights will be seen. To the south, the mountain-path of Niffdah presents its black overhanging peaks, and the deep chasm, round which the path winds, bearing a most cavern-like appearance: a little to the west, the camel path, called El Nishka, appears scarcely less difficult and precipitous; the more southern crags close in the landscape, while the foreground is occupied by the dingy and barren wadey of Agutifa, with the well immediately overhung by red ridges of limestone and clay: the whole presenting a picture of barrenness, not to be perfectly described, either by poet or painter.

Large masses of tabular basalt, and irregular precipices, common to this formation, are scattered over this range of hills, and extend over all the plains which environ them. The most lofty hills are those which present the most massive façades of tabular basalt; the sides sometimes exhibit a step-like appearance, and in many instances are overhung by pillars, curved, inclined, and perpendicular: these produce a singular effect, not devoid of grandeur. The lower stratum of all these hills is invariably limestone, mixed with a reddish clay. Hills of the same are found bordering upon, and in some cases joining, the basaltic ones; some of these are strewed over with a covering of basalt stones of various sizes and forms, none of them large, from three to eighteen inches in circumference, but still showing the colour and structure of the soil on which they are spread. Other hills of limestone are also indiscriminately found without the slightest particle of basalt on them, although in the immediate vicinity of what could easily be imagined the ancient crater of a volcano, which had showered a sombre covering heaved from the very bowels of the earth, on all the then existing hills and plains which surrounded it. Some of these limestone hills have been cut through, either by the falling of masses of rock from the higher hills, or by violent watercourses; and a section of them reveals nothing but pure limestone mixed with clay.

The Souda, or Gibel Assoud[4], extend from north to south, three days’ journey, but in so winding a direction, as not to exceed thirty-five miles at the utmost in a straight line: to the west, as far as the well called Assela, on the road to the Shiati, where the red clay hills continue alone, and join the hills at Benioleed: to the east, they extend three days on the road to Zella, or Bengagi, to a wadey called Temelleen.

The first four days of our journey, after leaving Agutifa, were all dreariness and misery. This was the third time that I passed these deserts: but no familiarity with the scenery at all relieves the sense of wretchedness which the dread barrenness of the place inspires. We marched from dawn until dark, for the sake of getting over them as quickly as possible; and as scarcely sufficient fuel was to be found to boil a little water, a mess of cold tumuta was usually our supper. On leaving Tingazeer, we had the blessing of a rainy day; for such it was to all, but particularly to the poor negroes who accompanied the kafila, although Boo-Khaloom always gave them to drink from his skins once in the day (an unusual kindness), yet marching as they were for twelve and fourteen hours, once scarcely satisfied nature. In consequence of the rain, we found water fresh and pure during almost every day’s march, and arrived at Zeghren[5] with the loss of only one camel. On the last day, previous to arriving at the well, Omhul Abeed, a skeleton of a man, with some flesh still hanging about him, lay close to the road; but it was passed by the whole kafila, with scarcely a remark.

After these dreary wastes, it was no small pleasure to rest a day at Zeghren, the native town of a considerable merchant who accompanied our kafila. When we first left Sockna for Mourzuk, Abdi Zeleel had before taken me to his house, and presented me to his mother and sister; and he now insisted on my taking up my quarters there altogether. Almost the first person that presented herself was my friend the merchant’s sister, I had almost said the fair, Omhal Henna[6]. She had a wooden bowl of haleeb (fresh milk) in her hand, the greatest rarity she could offer, and holding out the milk with some confusion towards me with both her hands, the hood which should have concealed her beautiful features had fallen back; as my taking the milk from her would have prevented the amicable salutation we both seemed prepared for, and which consisted of four or five gentle pressures of the hand, with as many aish harlecks, and tiebs, and ham-dulillahs, she placed the bowl upon the ground, while the ceremonies of greeting, which take a much longer time in an African village than in an English drawing-room, were, by mutual consent, most cordially performed. I really could not help looking at her with astonishment, and I heartily wish that I had the power of conveying an idea of her portrait. It was the Jemma (Friday), the Sabbath, and she was covered, for I cannot call it dressed, with only a blue linen barracan, which passed under one arm, and was fastened on the top of the opposite shoulder with a silver pin, the remaining part thrown round the body behind, and brought over her head as a sort of hood, which, as I remarked, had fallen off, and my having taken her hand when she set down the milk had prevented its being replaced. This accident displayed her jet black hair in numberless plaits all round her expressive face and neck, and her large sparkling eyes and little mouth, filled with the whitest teeth imaginable. She had various figures burnt on her chin with gunpowder: her complexion was a deep brown; and round her neck were eight or ten necklaces of coral and different coloured beads. So interesting a person I had not seen in the country; and on my remaining some moments with my eyes fixed on her, she recommenced the salutation, “How is your health,” &c. and smiling, asked, with great naiveté, “whether I had not learnt, during the last two months, a little more Arabic.” I assured her I had. Looking round to see if any body heard her—and having brought the hood over her face—she said, “I first heard of your coming last night, and desired the slave to mention it to my brother. I have always looked for your coming, and at night, because at night I have sometimes seen you: you were the first man whose hand I ever touched—but they all said it did not signify with you, an Insara (a Christian). God turn your heart!—but my brother says you will never become Moslem—won’t you, to please Abdi Zeleel’s sister? My mother says God would have never allowed you to come, but for your conversion.” By this time, again the hood had fallen back, and I again had taken her hand, when the unexpected appearance of Abdi Zeleel, accompanied by the governor of the town, who came to visit me, was a most unwelcome interruption. Omhal-henna quickly escaped; she had, however, overstepped the line, and I saw her no more.

Besides our own people, and the followers of Boo-Khaloom, we had a number of liberated slaves who were returning to their homes. The bashaw had given freedom to twenty-four from the castle, sixteen of whom were females. Our friend, Mohammed D’Ghies, had also liberated three young women, all under twenty, natives of Begharmi, the evening previous to our leaving Tripoli, telling them, in my presence, that his friends the English wishing to visit their country, was the cause of their being set at liberty. There are circumstances attached to this act of D’Ghies beyond the mere liberation of three healthy negresses, so creditable to the feelings of this excellent old man, that they must not be omitted. Two of these girls only had fallen into his hands, and on his intimating to them his intention of giving them their liberty, they told him that another sister had been brought to Tripoli with them, and sold, like themselves, to slavery; but they knew not what was become of her. Mohammed D’Ghies, after much inquiry, succeeded in finding out who had been the purchaser, paid the price demanded for her liberation, and provided the means for enabling all the sisters to return together to their own country with Boo-Khaloom.

On the 20th October, in a date grove a short distance from the town of Temenhint, we found a kafila from Mourzuk, and some of the Mamelukes who had come from Darfoor and Waday. I visited them with Boo-Khaloom: their tents scarcely held together, and they gave a deplorable account of their sufferings: two of them had been beys, and one, Mohammed Bey, was still in the prime of life, and conversed with spirit; the other, Ali Bey, appeared weighed down by his misfortunes, and was between fifty and sixty years of age: they had left Cairo fifteen years, and had passed the greater part of their exile in and near Dongala. On the approach of the army of Mohammed Ali, three hundred and fifty of them mustered at Dongala, and determined on passing to Kordofan, and from thence to Darfoor. At Darfoor they refused to receive them, and they then moved on to Wara, the capital of Waday, where also they were refused permission to remain. For four months they had been in great distress, the Waday people refusing to sell them any thing for themselves, or forage for their horses, all of which they were consequently obliged to part with: taking slaves for them, which they again exchanged for ostrich feathers, and any thing they could get. At Waday, all but twenty-six determined on proceeding to the south; they, however, afterwards altered their minds, and took the direction of the army of Mohammed Ali, meaning to claim protection there. The twenty-six left Waday just before the Rhamadan (May), and followed the tracks of camels until they came to a kafila of Fezzaneers proceeding to Mourzuk: this kafila they joined; but in passing through the Tibboo Borgoo country, one of their camels strayed and tore a branch from a date tree, for which the Borgoo people beat and wounded one of the Mameluke slaves: this was resented by the Mamelukes, and a quarrel ensued, which the Fezzaneers in vain attempted to arrange. They also became sufferers: the Borgoo people attacked and followed the kafila for five days, during which time twenty of the Mamelukes were killed, and thirteen of the Fezzaneers; the six remaining Mamelukes were now on their way to Tripoli, in the hope of obtaining from the bashaw permission to pass the remainder of their lives in his regency: they had lost forty thousand dollars since leaving Egypt.

Mohammed Bey describes the people of Borgoo and Waday as savages of the worst description, abhorring even the sight of a white man. I told him it was my intention to proceed in the direction of Darfoor, if possible: he replied, placing my hand in Boo-Khaloom’s, “Do not leave this good man, Sidi-Rais, if you hope to return.”—But rarely a kafila passes from Dongala to Darfoor; to Bornou, never. The army of Egypt had been repulsed with considerable loss at Darfoor; the people of which country, Mohammed Bey said, could muster one hundred thousand men, armed, in the field, equipped with artillery and mortars. The beys of Egypt had sent the King of Darfoor, many years ago, eight pieces of ordnance; they had made others, and worked them, as well as the people of Egypt themselves. The army had gone south, and meant to over-run all the Kordofan, when it was thought, if they had no reinforcement, that they would return to Egypt: with their present strength, they could do nothing with Darfoor, but the people of Darfoor wished for peace with Mohammed Ali, and feared him; on this account it was that they would not receive the Mamelukes. Affecting my own plans so materially as this information appeared to do, it was listened to by me with the deepest interest.

On Thursday, the 24th of October, we halted at Sebha, and remained there until Saturday the 26th, gathering our escort and collecting our supplies.

On Wednesday, the 30th October, we made our entrée into Mourzuk with all the parade and show that we could muster. By Boo-Khaloom’s presents to the bashaw, but chiefly on account of his having undertaken to conduct us to Bornou, he had not only gained the bashaw’s favour, but had left Tripoli with strong proofs of his master’s consideration. Boo-Khaloom, naturally liberal, had, by successful trade, been enabled early in life to gratify his charitable and benevolent inclinations. This made him so popular in Mourzuk, that nearly half the inhabitants came out to meet him, at a short distance from the town, although not any of the authorities, and we entered the gates amidst the shouts of the people, preceded by singing and dancing women; and the Arabs who formed our escort made such repeated charges upon their jaded and tired animals, that I really expected some of them would “fall to rise no more.” No living creatures can be treated worse than an Arab’s wife and his horse, and if plurality could be transferred from the marriage bed to the stable, both wives and horses would be much benefited by the change.

I could not quite resist a sensation of disappointment that no friends came out to meet me: but as the sun was insufferably powerful, and as I had received a message by Boo-Khaloom’s brother, from Doctor Oudney, that he was unwell, and that Clapperton had the ague, I did not much expect it; I was, however, by no means prepared to see either of them so much reduced as they were. Both my companions and Hillman I found had been confined to their beds with hemma (fever and ague), had been delirious, and the Doctor and Hillman only a little recovered. Clapperton was still on his bed, which for fifteen days he had not quitted. Doctor Oudney was suffering also from a severe complaint in his chest, arising from a cold caught during his excursion to Ghraat, and nothing could be more disheartening than their appearance. The opinion of every body, Arabs, Tripolines, and our predecessors, were unanimous as to the insalubrity of its air. To account physically for the sickliness of the place, was beyond the powers of wiser medical heads than mine, but facts are stubborn things. Mr. Ritchie had fatally felt the baneful influence of the climate of Mourzuk, and Captain Lyon had suffered extremely during his stay there: every one of us, some in a greater or less degree, had been seriously disordered; and amongst the inhabitants themselves, any thing like a healthy looking person was a rarity.

Notwithstanding Boo-Khaloom made every exertion in his power to get away from Mourzuk as early as possible, yet, from the numerous arrangements which it was necessary for him to make, for the provisioning so many persons during a journey through a country possessing no resources, it was the 29th November before those arrangements were complete. Doctor Oudney and Mr. Clapperton, from a most praiseworthy impatience to proceed on their journey, and at the same time, thinking their health might be benefited by the change of air, preceded him to Gatrone by ten days. I had remained behind to urge Boo-Khaloom and expedite his departure, and we thought by these means to obviate any wish which he might have to delay on account of his private affairs, even for a day. Our caution was, however, needless; no man could be more anxious to obey the orders he had received, and forward our views, than himself: indeed so peremptory had been the commands of the bashaw, in consequence of the representations of our consul general, when complaining of former procrastination, that Boo-Khaloom’s personal safety depended on his expedition, and of this he was well aware.

It may not be unacceptable to the reader, if I here give some account of the strength of our party.

I had succeeded in engaging, on my return to Tripoli, as an attendant to accompany me to Bornou, a native of the island of St. Vincent, whose real name was Adolphus Sympkins; but who, in consequence of his having run away from home, and in a merchant vessel traversed half the world over, had acquired the name of Columbus; he had been several years in the service of the bashaw, spoke three European languages, and perfect Arabic. This person was of the greatest service to the mission, and so faithful an attendant, that His Majesty’s government have since employed him to accompany my former companion and colleague, Captain Clapperton, on the arduous service he is now engaged in: we had besides three free negroes, whom we had hired in Tripoli as our private servants; Jacob, a Gibraltar Jew, who was a sort of store-keeper; four men to look after our camels; and these, with Mr. Hillman and ourselves, made up the number of our household to thirteen persons. We were also accompanied by several merchants from Mesurata, Tripoli, Sockna, and Mourzuk, who gladly embraced the protection of our escort to proceed to the interior with their merchandize.

The Arabs in the service of the bashaw of Tripoli, by whom we were to be escorted to Bornou, and on whose good conduct our success almost wholly depended, were now nearly all assembled, and had been chosen from the most obedient tribes; they gained considerably in our good opinion, each day we became better acquainted with them: they were not only a great and most necessary protection to us, breaking the ground as we were for any Europeans who might follow our steps, but enlivened us greatly on our dreary desert way by their infinite wit and sagacity, as well as by their poetry, extempore and traditional. We had several amongst our party who shone as orators in verse, to use the idiom of their own expressive language, particularly one of the tribe of Boo Saiff Marabooteens, or gifted persons, who would sing for an hour together, faithfully describing the whole of our journey for the preceding fortnight, relating the most trifling occurrence that had happened, even to the name of the well, and the colour and taste of the water, with astonishing rapidity and humour, and in very tolerable poetry; while some of his traditionary ballads were beautiful. The names of the chiefs who were to accompany us were as follows:—

Of the tribe of M’Garha, Sheikh Abdi Smud ben Erhoma, from the Syrtis, with seventy men. He often said that his father’s name was renowned in song, for having killed one hundred men with his own hand in battle, and please God! he should exceed him, for he was but thirty-five, and had brought forty to the ground already.

The M’Garhas are at this time in great favour with the bashaw, and entirely exempt from tribute of any sort, from having assisted him very materially in annihilating the Waled Suleyman: I must, therefore, give some account of them.

They principally inhabit the Syrtis, where a considerable body always remain; tribes of them, with their flocks, pitch their tents for the months of pasture wherever they can find forage, and in times of peace even to within a few leagues of Tripoli. When the present bashaw determined on putting a finishing stroke to the Waled Suleyman, by the extermination of the tribe, he, like a wily politician, sent offers of peace and protection to the M’Garha, the ancient and inveterate enemies of the Seffenusser[7]. In their occasional skirmishes, no quarter was given; and a Waled Suleyman literally sucked the blood of a M’Garha, after giving him the finishing blow: children were even called upon to follow the parent’s example, so that they might imbibe all the hatred felt by their ancestors, and vice versa. The tribe of M’Garha readily accepted the bashaw’s offers; and with their assistance, about six years back, the Waled Suleyman struggled with the power of the bashaw for the last time. It was near the borders of Fezzan, in one of those extensive upland plains called Hormut Mahulla, that the grandsons of Seffenusser, the last of the house, returned from Egypt, and headed the remaining followers of their ancestors. The Orfilly, and several other tribes, flocked to the standard: the M’Garha marched from the eastward to assist the bashaw, who came from the side of Tripoli; the rebels were surrounded, and the Orfilly capitulated, promising an enormous tribute. No terms were, however, granted to the Waled Suleyman; they were followed with fire and sword to their very huts—Seffenusser’s children fell into the hands of their enemies; they were, however, spared, and two of them sent to Mourzuk. Since that time, the name of Waled Suleyman is scarcely breathed; indeed the tribe has ceased to exist, with the exception of some few who escaped to Egypt. A solitary being, who thinks himself unobserved, is sometimes pointed out to you as having been one; but his misery protects him. So complete an overthrow of the most numerous tribe that inhabited the regency of Tripoli, and one whose riches and influence were so well known, has had the effect of humbling the turbulent spirit of the Arabs to a wonderful degree: the bashaw rules them literally with a rod of iron, and for the slightest cause he has the heads of their sheikhs over the gates of his palace in a few hours. He makes it his policy to keep up their feuds and ancient enmities, by which means he prevents that unanimity which might make them dangerous. The name of Seffenusser is, however, still the tocsin of revolt; it is in itself a thousand strong; and the bravery displayed by Abdi Zeleel, the eldest survivor of the name, during the late campaign in the negro country, has not a little contributed to strengthen the feeling.

Abdallah Bougeel, a chief and a warrior, from the Shiati, whose father and grandfather died because they would not fly; who never attended to flocks, but were chief in fight—twenty men.

Sheikh Sultan ben Kaid, from the Shiati, a great warrior, who had a terrible wound in his face, which had nearly demolished his nose, from the sword of a Tuarick—ten men.

Hamed el Geide, Shiati—ten men.

Hamed Bendou el Hothmani, Shiati—ten men.

Sheikh Boo Bucker Saakhi, Shiati—ten men.

Salem Asheneen Hashnuowy, Shiati—thirty men.

The Maraboot Sid Hassan ben Eran—ten men.

Il R’baiah—ten men.

Boo Ahgoom, Osfilly—twenty men.

Futhaem—ten men.

Arabs are generally thin meagre figures, though possessing expressive and sometimes handsome features, great violence of gesture and muscular action. Irritable and fiery, they are unlike the dwellers in towns and cities: noisy and loud, their common conversational intercourse appears to be a continual strife and quarrel; they are, however, brave, eloquent, and deeply sensible of shame. I have known an Arab of the lower class refuse his food for days together, because in a skirmish his gun had missed fire: to use his own words, “Gulbi wahr,” “My heart aches;” “Bindikti kedip hashimtni gedam el naz;” “My gun lied, and shamed me before the people.” Much has been said of their want of cleanliness; I should, however, without hesitation, pronounce them to be much more cleanly than the lower order of people in any European country. Circumcision, and the shaving the hair from the head, and every other part of the body; the frequent ablutions which their religion compels them to perform; all tend to enforce practices of cleanliness. Vermin, from the climate of their country, they, as well as every other person, must be annoyed with; and although the lower ranks have not the means of frequently changing their covering (for it scarcely can be called apparel), yet they endeavour to free themselves as much as possible from the persecuting vermin. Their mode of dress has undergone no change for centuries back; and the words of Fenelon will at this day apply with equal truth to their present appearance[8].

The fondness of an Arab for traditional history of the most distinguished actions of their remote ancestors is proverbial: professed story-tellers are ever the appendages to a man of rank: his friends will assemble before his tent, or on the platforms with which the houses of the Moorish Arabs are roofed, and there listen, night after night, to a continued history for sixty, or sometimes one hundred nights together. It is a great exercise of genius, and a peculiar gift, held in high estimation amongst them. They have a quickness and clearness of delivery, with a perfect command of words, surprising to a European ear: they never hesitate, are never at a loss; their descriptions are highly poetical, and their relations exemplified by figure and metaphor, the most striking and appropriate: their extempore songs are also full of fire, and possess many beautiful and happy similes. Certain tribes are celebrated for this gift of extempore speaking and singing; the chiefs cultivate the propensity in their children; and it is often possessed, to an astonishing degree, by men who are unable either to read or write.

Arabic songs go to the heart, and excite greatly the passions: I have seen a circle of Arabs straining their eyes with a fixed attention at one moment, and bursting with loud laughter; at the next, melting into tears, and clasping their hands in all the ecstacy of grief and sympathy.

Their attachment to pastoral life is ever favourable to love. Many of these children of the desert possess intelligence and feeling, which belong not to the savage; accompanied by an heroic courage, and a thorough contempt of every mode of gaining their livelihood, except by the sword and gun. An Arab values himself chiefly on his expertness in arms and horsemanship, and on hospitality.

Hospitality was ever habitual to them. At this day, the greatest reproach to an Arab tribe is, “that none of their men have the heart to give, nor their women to deny.” Nor does this feeling of liberality alone extend to the chiefs, or Arabs of high birth: I have known the poor and wandering Bedouin to practise a degree of charity and hospitality far beyond his means, from a sense of duty alone.

Notwithstanding all the savageness of an Arab, there are sometimes noble thoughts which seem to cross over his powerful mind; and then again to leave him choked up with weeds of too strong a growth to be rooted out.

The M’Garha sheikhs were, after the defeat of Waled Suleyman, all taken into the bashaw’s service; and are now amongst his most faithful and favoured followers. Abdi Zeleel ben Seffenusser, upon his submission, had been assigned some portion of his grandsire’s extensive lands at Sebha in Fezzan; and on his being ordered to repair with a certain number of camels to Mourzuk, and to accompany the Sultan of Fezzan into the negro country, he was reported to have delayed obeying the order: his enemies attributed his reluctance to disaffection and want of courage. The bashaw’s judgment was summary; and Hamet Ghreneim, the brother of my chaoush, was despatched with a letter to Abdi Zeleel, and orders to stab him while he read it, and return with his head. The M’Garha had five hundred miles to ride, previous to executing his bloody commission; and, by his account to me, it was the sixteenth of the same kind that he had been intrusted with: he seldom failed either in the execution or in receiving the reward, which always follows: “they were his master’s orders—with Bis milla! (in God’s name) he struck, and struck home!” His victim, in this case, was of more consequence than any of his former ones, and his reward would have been greater in proportion: Hamet was withal the descendant of the old enemy of his clan; but there was still some magic in the name of the Seffenusser. They were a race of heroes—cowardice could not be a crime for any of the blood to be guilty of; and the chance of being strangled on his return appeared to him preferable to assassinating Abdi Zeleel, and he determined on hesitating before he executed the bashaw’s orders. On arriving at the hut of the Arab chief, notwithstanding his fallen state, friends enough remained to warn him of his approaching fate: he met Hamet at the door, kissed the signet of the bashaw, and desired him to perform his office; adding, “You are a M’Garha, and an enemy to our house.” “I am,” replied the other, “and therefore not capable of assassinating a Seffenusser: if you are guilty, fly—mine be the risk.”

Cowardice is ever visited in an Arab by the most disgraceful punishments; he is often bound, and led through the huts of the whole tribe, with the bowels and offal of a bullock, or some other animal, tied round his head; and amongst a people who only desire to be rich in order to increase the number of their wives, probably the greatest punishment of all is, that could even any woman be found who would receive him as a husband, which would be an extraordinary circumstance, no Arab would allow him to enter into his family with such a stain on his character as cowardice.

The amor patriæ discoverable in even the wildest inhabitant of the most barren rock is not felt by the wandering Arab, or the Moor. He wanders from pasture to pasture, from district to district, without any local attachment; and his sole delight is a roving, irregular, but martial life. I have met with several, mostly Moors of Mesurata and Sockna, who have made three times the pilgrimage to Mecca; visited severally all the ports in the Red Sea; had been in Syria, from St. Jean d’Acre to Antioch; had traded to Smyrna and Constantinople, visiting Cyprus, Rhodes, and most of the islands in the Archipelago; had penetrated to the west of Nyffe, in Soudan, and every other part of the black country; had been two or three times stripped and robbed of every thing in the Negro country, escaping only with life, after receiving several wounds. Some of them had not seen their families for fifteen or twenty years, yet were still planning new expeditions, with as much glee as if they were just beginning life, instead of tottering on the brink of death.

Arabs have always been commended by the ancients for the fidelity of their attachments, and they are still scrupulously exact to their words, and respectful to their kindred; they have been universally celebrated for their quickness of apprehension and penetration, and the vivacity of their wit. Their language is certainly one of the most ancient in the world; but it has many dialects. The Arabs, however, have their vices and their defects; they are naturally addicted to war, bloodshed, and cruelty; and so malicious as scarcely ever to forget an injury.

Their frequent robberies committed on traders and travellers, have rendered the name of an Arab almost infamous in Europe. Amongst themselves, however, they are most honest, and true to the rites of hospitality; and towards those whom they receive as friends into their camp, every thing is open, and nothing ever known to be stolen: enter but once into the tent of an Arab, and by the pressure of his hand he ensures you protection, at the hazard of his life. An Arab is ever true to his bread and salt; once eat with him, and a knot of friendship is tied which cannot easily be loosened.

Arabs have been truly described as a distinct class of mankind. In the bashaw’s dominions, they have never been entirely subdued: violent attempts at subjugation have often deprived them of tracts of their vast territories; whole tribes have been annihilated; but, as a people, they have ever remained independent and free.

The few fertile spots of scanty verdure, called “oases,” which now and then refresh the languid senses of the weary traveller, and which are desolate, beyond the wildest wastes of European land, are the tracts inhabited by the eastern Arabs. Masses of conglomerated sand obstruct the path which leads to these oases or wadeys; nothing relieves the eye, as it stretches over the wide expanse, except where the desert scene is broken by a chain of bleak and barren mountains: no cooling breezes freshen the air: the sun descends in overpowering force: the winds scorch as they pass; and bring with them billows of sand, rolling along in masses frightfully suffocating, which sometimes swallow up whole caravans and armies, burying them in their pathless depths!

“Their hapless fate unknown!”

FOOTNOTES:

[1]Benioleed, a rich valley, bounded on all sides by whitish brown hills, capped in many places with green stone and amygdaloid, or vesicular lava, rugged villages, and ruinous castles, on every point, some overtopping the columnar green stone, and scarcely distinguishable from it.

The hills possess a very interesting structure. The height does not exceed 400 feet, and limestone is the prevailing rock. On the north side the whole of the range, till within a mile of the western extremity, is limestone: at that point above the limestone is a thick bed of columnar greenstone, with thick layers of vesicular lava.

On the southern side, most of the hills have their tops covered with lava and columnar green stone, and have a structure similar to that of the one I have delineated. A little difference is here and there observable, but not so much as to be worthy of notice. The tops of the hills on this side form an extensive, black, dreary-looking plain, strewed over with loose stones, extending eastwardly as far as the eye can discern. The upper, or, as I would call it, the lavaceous crust, appears as if a layer left by a flowing fluid, and therefore of more recent formation than the rock on which it rests. This is seldom more than a few feet in thickness, and spread over the subjacent rock.

The rocks dip in various directions, but generally at an angle of 18°.

The Jibel Gulat is one of the highest hills we have yet come to. It is about six hundred feet high: its top is tabular, and its sides exceedingly rugged, from an amazing number of detached pieces. The lowest exposed stratum is a calcareous tufa, containing, or indeed almost formed of sea-shells; the most abundant are a species of oyster and limpet, in a very entire state. Above, beds of soft carbonate of lime, like whiting, and falling into dust on the slightest touch, and in which is imbedded a large quantity of lamellar calcareous spar. Above, and apparently extending to the summit, tolerably fine marble. The quantity of debris, and the size and appearance of the masses, might make one believe that an earthquake had been the cause of that rent state; but it appears to me more probable that the undermining, by the mouldering of the soft stratum underneath, accounts well for the state and appearance of the side of the hill. The hill is about three miles long, and runs from east to west. It is inhabited by a solitary family; a man, his wife, and several children. We were told that he had resided in this dreary and barren place for eleven years, and it is said lives chiefly by plunder.

Near Niffud, the hills are of lime, and in structure and form not unlike those of the Tarhona range.

In the vicinity of the long range there are a number of small conical hills, of a soft whiting-like substance, appearing as if recently thrown up, although, from every thing around, that is not at all probable. The range runs parallel to that near the coast; but we had no opportunity of determining how far it extends to the eastward and westward. There are several passes, into one of which we entered. It is rugged, from the number of masses that have fallen from the sides of the hills. Several tumuli of stones are observable, marking the burial-places of unfortunate travellers, who have been murdered here, it was said, by large rocks rolled from the overhanging heights. When I was examining the rocks, in the dry bed of a river, these monuments were pointed out, to make me aware my presence there was not free from danger. This led to a valley, with some thick groves of acacias, and a plant like a mespilus, with pleasant small astringent berries: it is called by the natives butomo. From this we passed over a low hill, into the valley Niffud. This valley has been the seat of much fighting, as our conductors informed us, among the Arabs of different tribes.

We left the valley, by a pass to the southward, and entered an extensive plain, named Ambulum: in this we travelled the whole day. The surface, in some places, a firm sand, with here and there rocky eminences, and patches of gravel: the latter was fine, and mixed with fragments of shells. Often, for a considerable extent, not the least vestige of vegetation; and in no place was the ground completely covered, except in a few small oases, where there was a species of grass, of the genus festuca. The feniculum duter, and a beautiful genista, which extends all the way from the coast, were common. The butum occurred in abundance, and its shade was a defence to us at times. We found some beautiful fragments of striped jasper, and some small pieces of cornelian.

Bonjem.—We had no opportunity of examining any of these; but from the strewed masses they appear to be limestone. The wadey of Bonjem has characters different from any of the other valleys we have passed through. This valley is strewed over with gypsum in different states, with numerous shells, of the genus pecten, and several terebrellæ. There are here and there sand, and many incrustations of the carbonate, mixed with crystals of the sulphate, of lime, that gives to the surface a shining white appearance, which, in place of being pleasing, is disagreeable, by the power of the reflected light. There are small ranges of low hills, composed of soft white chalk (whiting), covered with a crust of gypsum. In this structure we found one large pit, about forty feet deep, and nearly as much in diameter. These low hills are bounded by much higher, and of a dark brown colour: the low hills are numerous, some are separate, but in general they are in short ridges, and have, at a distance, very much the appearance of fortifications. A small senecio, a geranium, and a statice, were the principal beings of the vegetable creation. Barometer 30.020. temperature 72.

Near the wells, the arundo phragmites grows in abundance; it has long creeping roots, the first true roots of that kind I have seen in North Africa. Plants of this kind would soon make considerable encroachments on the desert, and render habitable where it is difficult even to travel over. This quarter is poor in the grasses, for I think I have not seen above eight different kinds. Our course was among sand-hills, and over a gravelly road, strewed with masses of common opal, with small portions of botroidal iron ore, and thick layers of gypsum, with their edges appearing above ground. The low hills presented the same features as those near which we remained in the wadey: one, detached on the road, had a curious appearance, and was called, by the natives, “The Bowl of Bazeen.” It is about forty feet high, and formed above of a calcareous crust, with sulphate of lime, and below of soft chalk.

The higher ridge was observable on each side of us, running south-south-east on the east side, and south-south-west on the west: some of those to the westward have detached hills, and one has the name of the “Salt Hill.” W. O.

[2]Captain Lyon’s travelling name.

[3]This is only called jaafa when a bride is conveyed in it—at other times a caramood.

[4]Gibel Assoud and the hills on this side have the same name. The valley is bounded on both sides by hills, from 400 to 600 feet high—tops in general tabular; but a few are irregular, and two or three end in conical peaks; the sides of all are covered with much debris. The colour of the hills gives a very peculiar character to the valley; the tops of a shining black, as if covered over with black lead, that often extends some way down the sides, which are of a light brown, mixed with a dirty yellow: this is often observable in patches in the black, which gives to the whole a very striking appearance. The lower strata are limestone, of a yellowish colour, almost entirely formed of marine remains: this, although hard, is easily acted on by the air, and the exposed surface mouldering away leaves cavities in the rock, which, undermining the superincumbent ones, gives rise to the quantity of detached fragments. There are several thin strata of earthy gypsum: above that, limestone, with a fine fibrous-looking external surface, something like wood: this has the jingling sound of burnt lime; above is the shining basalt, of a fine texture, mixed with amygdaloid.

About six miles from where we halted, are a range of low white hills, running about west by north, of the same name as the plains. The top is a fine shining white, from thick beds of a milk-white marble, the base of porphyritic limestone. W. O.

[5]The hills of Zeghren opened: a low range, running nearly east and west; their appearance different from any we had yet seen, long, oval, and truncated at the top—colour black, with white streaks.

About the same time a detached rock came in view: it was about a hundred feet high, and 200 from the land from which we descended.

This is the geological structure of the neighbouring land, which has at no very distant period been joined to this. W. O.

[6]The mother of peace.

[7]The name of their sheikh or chief; also often used when speaking of the tribe.

[8]Leurs habits sont aisés à faire, car en ce doux climat on ne porte qu’une piece d’étoffe fine et lègère, qui n’est point taillée et que chacun met à longs plis autour de son corps pour la modestie; lui donnant la forme qu’il veut.

EXCURSION TO WESTWARD OF MOURZUK,
IN JUNE, JULY, AND AUGUST, 1822,

BY WALTER OUDNEY, M.D.

Saturday, June 8, 1822.—At a little after sunrise departed from Mourzuk. Lieutenant Clapperton, Mr. William Hillman and I were accompanied by Hadje Ali, brother of Ben Bucher, Ben Khullum, Mahommed Neapolitan Mamelouk, and Mahomet, son of our neighbour Hadje Mahmud. It was our intention to have proceeded direct to Ghraat, and laboured hard to accomplish our object. Obstacle after obstacle was thrown in our way, by some individuals in Mourzuk. Several came begging us not to go, as the road was dangerous, and the people not at all under the bashaw’s control. We at length hired camels from a Targee, Hadje Said; but only to accompany us as far as the Wadey Ghrurby.

Our course was over sands skirted with date trees; ground strewed with fragments of calcareous crust, with a vitreous surface, from exposure to the weather. About mid-day, after an exhausting journey from oppressive heat, we arrived at El Hummum, a straggling village, the houses of which are mostly constructed of palm leaves. We remained till the sun was well down, and then proceeded on our course. The country had the same character. At eight we arrived at Tessouwa.

The greater number of inhabitants are Tuaricks. They have a warlike appearance, a physiognomy and costume different from the Fezzaneers. More than a dozen muzzled up faces were seated near our tent, with every one’s spear stuck in the ground before him. This struck us forcibly, from being very different from what we had been accustomed to see. The Arab is always armed, in his journey, with his long gun and pistols; but there is something more imposing in the spear, dagger, and broad straight sword.

About eight, we departed: several wadeys in our course, with numerous small acacias, a few gravelly and sandy plains, and two or three low white alluvial hills. About three, halted at a well of good water.

Our course lay over an extensive high plain, with a long range of hills, running nearly east and west. Distance, about fourteen miles. We entered them by a pass which runs north and south, in which are numerous recesses, evidently leading to more extensive wadeys. Before reaching the hills, we found some people digging a well. It was about a hundred feet deep.

The hills are at about a hundred yards’ distance. Their form is that of a table top, with a peak here and there. The structure sandstone, finely stratified with beds of blue and white pipeclay, and alum slate.

The pass led to another, the finest we have seen, and the only part approaching to the sublime we have beheld in Fezzan. It is rugged and narrow; its sides high, and overhanging in some places. The whole exposed rock is a slaty sandstone, with thin strata of alum slate. The path has several trunks of petrified trees, with branches going out from them; the stem very similar to the acacia. They appear as if precipitated from the top. Near the end of the pass, the Wadey Ghrurby opens, with groves of date palms, and high sand hills. The change is sudden and striking; and instead of taking away, added to the effect of the pass we were descending. The hills from the wadey have rugged, irregular, peaked tops, as if produced by some powerful cause; although it appeared, on examination, that all was produced by the mouldering away of the lower strata.

The hills are composed of thick beds of blue clay, alternating with sandstone, beds of alum slate, and thick strata of porphyritic clay stone, and all the tops of finely stratified sandstone.

Wednesday, June 12. Moved up the valley for about four miles, and halted at a small town, Kharaik, having passed two in our course. Valley, fine groves of palm trees, with cultivated patches; water good, depth of the wells as about Mourzuk; hills bound the valley on the south side, and sand hills on the north. The number of date trees in the eastern and western division of the valley is said to be 340,000. The first division, or Wadey Shirgi, extends from near Seba to within a few miles of Thirtiba; the other, from the termination of Shirgi to Aubari.

In the evening saw some of the preparatory steps for a marriage. The woman belonged to this, and the man to the next town. A band of musicians, accompanied by all the women of the village, dancing and singing, with every now and then a volley of musketry. One woman carried a basket on her head, for the purpose of collecting gomah, to form a feast and pay the musicians. They came from the village of the bridegroom, which was about a mile distant. The marriage was not to take place till the feast after Rhamadan.

There are very few plants here. A species of asclepias, with milky juice; the agoul, apparently a species of ulex, has a fine red papilionaceous flower; species, with small obovate leaves, pod small and obtuse at the apex. A species of sweet-smelling rue, and two other plants in fruit, one like a veronica, and the other I have not seen a similar one before.

Friday, June 14. Rain sometimes falls in the valley, sufficient to overflow the surface, and form mountain torrents. But it has no regular periods; five, eight, and nine years frequently intervening between each time. Thus no trust can be placed in the occurrence of rain, and no application made in agricultural concerns. The sheikh of this town is Ali, a good natured Tiboo, exceedingly poor, but very attentive, and always in good humour. The place is so poor, that we had sometimes to wait half a day before we could get a couple of fowls, or a feed of dates or barley for our horses. We are in hourly expectation of camels from friends of Hateeta, for the purpose of conveying us to Ghraat.

There are a number of ants, of a species different from any I have seen in North Africa. Colour, a light shining brown, speckled with a silvery white, a strong pair of nippers, like the large claws of a crab. They run with great swiftness.

Saturday, June 15. No camels have arrived, and we are obliged to remain; much against our inclination. Hateeta was conversing yesterday on the difficulty we experienced in getting away from Mourzuk, from obstacles thrown in our way by the people. He said that the dread they had of the Tuaricks was unfounded, and we would soon be convinced of it. He further added, that he could, by his influence alone, conduct us in perfect safety to Timbuctoo, and would answer with his head. He was indignant at the feelings the people of Mourzuk had against the Tuaricks, who, he said, pride themselves in having but one word, and performing what they promise.

Sunday, June 16. Our camels have not yet arrived; but we were able to hire two from one Mahomet El Buin, and with these we proceeded on to Germa. Our course lay along the wadey, which grew finer and finer as we advanced, the number of gummah and gussub fields and date groves increasing. The hills formed some small recesses; the tops of most were level, and all of the same height. Passed several villages built all in the same manner. Notwithstanding the nearness and fitness of the stone, the salt mould is preferred; perhaps from the want of lime, and the ease with which the house is erected. Another thing: so very little rain falls, that there is no danger of the fabric falling. Near Break passed some imperfect inscriptions, apparently Arabic.

About eleven arrived at Germa, a larger town than any in the wadey, but both walls and houses have the marks of time. We waited in the house of the kaid till our camels came up. The sheikh, Mustapha ben Ussuf, soon visited us. He is an old man, a Fezzaneer, dark complexion, arch of nose small, tip depressed, and alæ expanded, lips a little thick, but mouth not large, hair black, and from the appearance of the beard, woolly. His ancestors are natives of this place; and his features may be considered as characteristic of the natives of Fezzan.

Monday, June 17. We had many accounts of inscriptions being here, which the people could not read. We were conducted to-day by Sheikh Mustapha to examine a building, different, as he stated, from any in the country. When we arrived, we found, to our satisfaction, it was a structure which had been erected by the Romans.

There were no inscriptions to be found, although we carefully turned up a number of the stones strewed about, but a few figures and letters rudely hewn out, and evidently of recent date. We imagined we could trace some resemblance to the letters of Europe, and conjectured that they had been hewn out by some European traveller at no very distant period. Our thoughts naturally went back to Hornemann; but again we had no intelligence of his having been here. In short, to confess the truth, we did not know what to make of them, till we afterwards made the discovery of the Targee writing. This building is about twelve feet high, and eight broad. It is built of sandstone, well finished, and dug from the neighbouring hills. Its interior is solid, and of small stones, cemented by mortar. It stands about three miles from Germa, and a quarter of a mile from the foot of the mountain. It is either a tomb or an altar: those well acquainted with Roman architecture, will easily determine which. The finding a structure of these people proves, without doubt, their intercourse here. It is probable they had no extensive establishment; otherwise we should see more remains. As we went along we passed by, and saw to the westward, the remains of ancient Germa. It appeared to occupy a space more extensive than the present town. We were not able to learn from the old sheikh whether any old coins were ever found, or any building similar to this, in the vicinity. Was this the track merely of the Romans into the interior, or did they come to the valley for dates?

Tuesday, June 18. Hateeta arrived during the night; but our departure was delayed on account of his being sick. He has a severe fever, and it is likely it may be of some continuance. The ague is very prevalent in the wadey; and, if we can believe the natives, the water is a very powerful agent in inducing bilious affection. The town is surrounded by a ditch, now nearly dry, and its site covered with a thick crust of the muriate of soda, evidently containing a large quantity of the muriate and sulphate of magnesia. This crust extends to a considerable distance from the town, and is five or six inches thick in several places. There are several wells, not two feet deep, containing excellent water. The date trees are close to the vicinity of the town, and most are heavily loaded with fruit. It is lamentable to see the number of houses in ruin, and the marks of poverty in the dress of the inhabitants. We could scarcely get a fowl to buy; and a sheep was out of the question.

Wednesday, June 19. Struck our tents at daylight, and commenced our journey about seven. We now sent our horses home, under charge of my servant Adam, and set out on foot. We intended mounting the camels; but the loads were so ill arranged, that we could not venture as yet. Our course lay through groves of date trees growing on the salt plain. These extended for about four miles; and two miles farther west was a small Arab town. We saw several of the Arabs as we passed along; but merely gave the usual compliments. The country for several miles was a loose sand, and heavy travelling for those on foot. The hills of the same shape, forming several large bays, with projecting headlands; the sides, to within fifty or sixty feet of the top, having gentle but rugged ascents; but above almost perpendicular. We passed three wells, one about fifty feet deep, temp. 22. 6. at which two women were watering goats belonging to Tuaricks. The other two were holes in the ground; the water of all good. We halted about an hour under the shades of date trees, waiting for the camels. I then mounted, and about three, entered the date groves of Oubari, where we halted. Hateeta joined us in the evening, with considerable fever. We had numerous Tuarick visitors, some residents of the town, and others belonging to a kafila about to depart for the Tuarick country. They are an independent-looking race. They examine with care every thing they see, and are not scrupulous in asking for different articles, such as tobacco, powder, and flints. The sheikh, and a number of the other inhabitants of the town, soon came out; and he procured what we wished.

Thursday, June 20.—Intended starting this morning; but the camel-men did not come forward with their camels. Hateeta still very ill. Took advantage of our detention to visit the neighbouring hills. One part appeared at a distance as an artificial excavation, which disappeared as we approached; and we found it to be a smooth surface, with a portion so removed, as to give rise to the delusion.

In ascending this by the tract of a mountain torrent, we fell in with numerous inscriptions, in characters similar to those on the Roman building. Some were evidently done centuries ago, others very recently.

The hill is of fine sandstone, which has not been used for building. There are also several thick strata of a fine blue clay, containing embedded masses of iron ore. The summit is formed of a dark bluish red clay stone, which gives a dreary cast to the hills. We ascended with difficulty, as it is one of the highest and steepest hills of the range. It commands an extensive view of the whole neighbouring wadey. The sand hills are much lower than to the eastward; and, from this position, all to the northward appears an extensive sandy plain.

The palms of Oubari are like paltry shrubs; and from viewing them here, one would not believe them to be half 7000, the estimated number. To the southward, another portion of the same range. When we got to the top, we were perspiring copiously, and had to take care that the perspiration was not checked too suddenly, as a strong cool breeze was blowing on the top. Many spaces were cleared away for prayer, in the same manner as we have observed in places on all the roads we have travelled along. The form in general is an oblong square, with a small recess in one of the longer sides looking to the rising sun, or it is semicircular, with a similar recess. On the top of a steep precipice, the King’s Anthem was sung with great energy and taste by Hillman.

The new moon was seen this evening, to the great joy of all the followers of Mahomet. Muskets and pistols were discharged, and all the musicians began their labours. This sport was continued all night. A party of musicians came out to visit us; but several were so drunk that they could scarcely walk. The fast is kept by all with a bad grace; and scarcely one is to be seen who has not a long visage. It is even laughable to see some young men going about the streets with long walking sticks, leaning forward like a man bent with age. As soon as the maraboot calls, not a person is to be seen in the streets; all commence, as soon as he pronounces “Allah Akbar;” all pretend to keep it; and if they do not, they take care no one shall know: but from the wry faces and great pharasaical shows, the rigidity may be called in question. None of our party kept it, except for a day now and then; for all travellers after the first day are allowed exemption; but they have to make up at some other time.

For the first time, we found out the writings on the rocks were Tuarick; and we met one man that knew a few of the letters; but could not find one that knew all. The information was satisfactory to us, and put our minds to rest on the subject of the writing.

We were amused with stories of the great powers of eating of the Tuaricks. We were told that two men have consumed three sheep at one meal; another eating a kail of bruised dates, with a corresponding quantity of milk, and another eating about a hundred loaves, of about the size of our penny loaves. We had many inquiries respecting our females. A notion prevailed, that they always bore more than one child at a time, and that they went longer than nine calendar months. On being told that they were the same in that respect as other women, they appeared pleased. We were also asked how they were kept; if locked up as the Moorish woman, or allowed to go freely abroad. The Tuarick women are allowed great liberties that way, and are not a little pleased at having such an advantage.

The greater number of Tuaricks follow the nomade life, moving from place to place as they find pasturage. They appear to delight in solitary abodes; and the different mountain recesses in the vicinity appear to have been often the residences of these people. The houses are of the skin of the camel, and have something of the form of the Arab.

I had a great many female Tuarick patients to-day. They are free and lively; and there is no more restraint before men than in the females of our own country; and they are greatly noticed by the men. They have a copper complexion; eyes large, black, and rolling; nose plain; but two or three had fine ancient Egyptian shaped noses; hair long and shedded, not plaited like the Arab women; neither did there appear to be any oil.

Tuesday, June 25.—There are several roads to Ghraat; and the upper one, where we had to enter the hills, was last night fixed on for us. There is plenty of water, but more rough than the lower, which is said to be a sandy plain, as level as the hand, but no water for five days.

It is not necessary among the Tuaricks that the woman should bring a portion to the husband, although she generally brings something: but it is almost always requisite that the man pay so much to the father for permission to marry his daughter. The price, when the parties are rich, is generally six camels.

The customs and manners of our country, which we related to our friends, were so similar to some of theirs, that an old Targee exclaimed in a forcible manner, “That he was sure they had the same origin as us.” We are getting on amazingly well with them, and would, no doubt, soon be great friends. The women here have full round faces, black curling hair, and, from a Negro mixture, inclined to be crispy; eyebrows a little arched, eyes black and large, nose plain and well-formed. The dress, a barracan neatly wrapped round, with a cover of dark blue cloth for the head; sometimes that comes over the lower part of the face as in the men. They are not very fond of beads, but often have shells suspended to the ears as ear-drops.

Thursday, June 27. Hateeta is really so unwell, that he is not able to go; we in consequence have put off our departure for ten days, and have determined during that time to visit wadey Shiati, &c.; and Mr. Hillman goes up to Mourzuk to send down supplies and take charge of our property. It would have been unkind to Hateeta to have proceeded on; for he is so anxious, that, rather than be left behind, he would have ordered himself to have been bound to a camel. We arranged about the fare for our camels, and prepared ourselves to depart to-morrow morning. We left our spare baggage, which our Tuaricks deposited in one of their mountain recesses.

Friday, June 28.—Before we could set out, a guide for the sands was necessary. For that purpose we engaged an old Targee, who professed to know every part of our tract. When all things were ready, it was near eight in the evening; but we were determined to start. Now Mr. Hillman left us for Mourzuk, I felt glad and satisfied, as I had always since our departure been uneasy respecting our property; but with Hillman every thing would be taken care of, and as safe as if we were all present. The interest he took in the mission, and the important duty in taking care of all our concerns, deserve the highest praise from every one.

We travelled by moonlight over a sandy soil, with numerous tufts of grass and mound hillocks, covered with shrubs, the surface in many places hard and crusty, from saline incrustation. The old man told us that the mounds of earth were formed by water, as the wadey, at the times of great rain, was covered with water. He further added, that in former times a large quantity of rain used to fall, information agreeing with what we had before received.

Saturday, June 29.—At daylight resumed our journey; and a little after sunrise entered among the sand hills, which are here two or three hundred feet high. The ascending and descending of these proved very fatiguing to both our camels and ourselves. The precipitous sides obliged us often to make a circuitous course, and rendered it necessary to form with the hands a tract by which the camels might ascend. Beyond this boundary of the sand hills of the wadey Ghrurbi, there is an extensive sandy plain, with here and there tufts of grass. We observed, for the first time, a plant with leaves like those of an equisetum, and a triginious grass.

In the afternoon our tract was on the same plain. There were observable several furrows with strips of grass in tufts. Near sunset began ascending high sand hills; they were as if one heaped upon another. Our guide ran before to endeavour to find out the easiest tract with all the agility of a boy. The presence of nothing but deep sandy valleys and high sand hills strikes the mind forcibly. There is something of the sublime mixed with the melancholy. Who can contemplate without admiration masses of loose sand, fully four hundred feet high, ready to be tossed about by every breeze, and not shudder with horror at the idea of the unfortunate traveller being entombed in a moment by one of those fatal blasts, which sometimes occur. On the top of one of these hills we halted for the night. It was near full moon. Her silvery rays, contrasted with the golden hue of the sand, and the general stillness, gave rise to a diversity of reflections.

Sunday, June 30.—At sunrise began our journey through valleys of sand, bounded on each side, and every where intersected by high sand hills. We had to pass over several of these, to our great annoyance. Our water was low, half a gerba only was left, and we began to be a little uneasy at the chance of losing our way, or the well being filled up. Our fears were soon removed. We saw the well at a distance, and found it full of good water on our arrival. The name of the valley is Tigidafa. Much of the equisetum-leaved plant grows here, and four or five date trees overshadow the well.

We halted during the heat of the day. The Mamelouk very unwell with ague and affection of the liver, probably arising from the want of his usual quantity of sour lackbi. In Mourzuk we were told he used to drink all he could procure.

About four we moved along the summits of several of the highest ridges, and descended some of the most difficult passes. About sunset arrived at a large plain, with a little feeding for the camels. Here we halted. The grasses have long tapering roots, but not finely divided into fibres; each fibre descends perpendicularly, and does not creep along the surface. It is covered with a fine velvety epidermis, and that again with fine particles of sand, so as to give it the appearance and elasticity of twine finely coiled up. None of the plants I saw had creeping roots, but all long and tapering; thus forming but a weak barrier to the fixing of the sand.

Tuesday, July 2.—Our course over and among the sand hills, and sandy walls, or barriers, like falls in a river, every here and there running across the valleys. Our guide, whom we now styled Mahomet ben Raml, or son of the sand, was almost always on before, endeavouring to find out the best way. We could detect in the sand numerous foot-marks of the jackal and fox, and here and there a solitary antelope. In some of the wadeys there were a great many fragments of the ostrich egg. Clapperton and Mahomet ben Hadje went a long way out of the tract. They followed the footsteps of some camels, and went on ahead of us. Our road lay in a different direction from theirs: we were therefore separated a considerable distance from each other. When we saw no appearance of them we halted, and sent the servants in search. The moment was trying: they were in the midst of sand hills, without provisions or water; but, luckily, it was not long; our searchers soon detected them from the heights. About mid-day halted in a valley, and remained under the shade of some date trees for a few hours. Set out again in the afternoon. The heat was oppressive, and our travelling was difficult. We next came to an extensive level plain, which was some refreshment; for we were completely tired of ascending and descending sand hills. Our servants strayed; they went on a tract which was pointed out to them as the right one, and, before we were aware of the error, they went so far that we were not able to send after them. They, as well as ourselves, thought the town was near, and they went with the intention of getting in before us. We felt exceedingly uneasy respecting them, as they might so easily lose themselves in such intricate travelling. We halted in low spirits, and, after a little refreshment, went to sleep with heavy hearts.

Wednesday, July 3.—Strong breeze in the night. Our trunks and bedclothes were all covered with sand in the morning. We heard nothing of our servants, and consoled ourselves that they had found some place before now. We commenced our journey early. The hills of wadey Shiati were seen stretching east and west, and the date palms in several groves; but between us and them some high sand hills were seen. We wished our old guide to take us a more direct course, as we conceived; but, notwithstanding our desire and even threats, he persevered in having his way; and, to do the old man justice, we afterwards found it would have been almost impossible for the camels to have gone the way we wished. After passing the base of some high sand hills, we came to a stony pass, of gentle descent, covered with loose fragments of quartz rock, a yellowish feltspar, and iron ore, very similar to the rocks in the Sebah district. From this place the town opened to our view. It is erected on a hill about three hundred feet high. This stands in the middle of the valley nearly, and has the appearance, at a distance, of a hill studded over with basaltic columns. I had no idea the town was built on the hill, and, consequently, that the deception was produced by it. The approach from this side is over large plains of salt, and through fields of gomah and date groves. The different divisions of the fields did not appear to us so neat as near other towns; but that may be owing to the grain having mostly been cut and all in. There is no necessity here for wells, as there are a number of springs near the surface that open into large basins, from which channels are cut to the different fields. Temperature of the water 30 cent.; but the basins are so exposed, and so large, that the temperature of the water is influenced by the soil and sun’s rays.

The soil is dark, and mixed with a large quantity of salt. In the salt plain here there are a number of small conical hills, the base composed of pipeclay, above that of a fine grained yellow sandstone, and the top a conglomerate, the principal ingredient of which is ironstone.

The most of the inhabitants soon visited us, and all appeared pleased at our arrival. The kadi of the two neighbouring towns paid us many compliments, and pressed us hard to spend a few days in his towns. We could not take advantage of his offer, which was no doubt of a selfish nature; for I had not conversed long with him before he began to beg a shirt. I told him mine could be of no use to him, as it was very different from those of the country. On that he asked for a dollar to buy one, which I took care to refuse; and said to him, that I only gave presents of money to the poor. The people made numerous urgent demands for medicines; and, in a very short time, our large tent was surrounded with sick: the female part formed the majority. Some beautiful faces and forms were clothed in rags: the plaited hair and necks of these even were loaded with ornaments. The physiognomy of the women, as well as of the men, is of two kinds,—that of the Bedouin Arab and Fezzaneer, with mixtures also which it would puzzle a physiognomist to discover and describe. The females are rather under the middle stature, stoutly built, and possess considerable vivacity and liveliness: complexion of those not much exposed to the sun of a dirty white.

Thursday, July 4.—Numbers of patients greatly augmented, and several of the applicants brought small presents for medicines, such as a bowl of liban. I was also applied to in a new capacity—that of a charm writer. A man came and offered me two fowls if I would give him a charm for a disease of the belly; but I was obliged to decline the office of charm writer, and confine myself to cure diseases by medicine. A buxom widow applied for medicine to get her a husband. It is not good to pretend ignorance: I therefore told her I had no such medicine along with me. The same worthy personage took my friend Clapperton for an old man—from his light coloured beard and mustachios—to my great amusement, and his chagrin. He had prided himself on the strength and bushiness of his beard, and was not a little hurt that light colour should be taken as a mark of old age. None of them had ever seen a light coloured beard before, and all the old men dye their grey beards with henna, which gives them a colour approaching that of my friend.

We went a little before sunset to visit the town. The houses are of mud, and built on the sides of the hill. They appear as if one was pulled on another. The passages or streets between them are narrow, and, in two or three instances, excavations through the rock. The exposed rocks denote the same composition as the insulated hills on the salt plain. The ascent was steep in some places, and we had to pass through the mosque before we arrived at the highest portion. From this we had a fine view of wadey Shiati in every direction. The wadey runs nearly east and west: in the former direction it is well inhabited as far as Oml’abeed: this is the westernmost town; and although, from this position, the soil appears favourable, there are no inhabitants between this and Ghadamis. A range of hills forms the northern boundary: these run as far as Ghadamis, and end easterly, in the hills about Oml’abeed. A low range forms the southern boundary; and between them and the wadey Ghrurbi all is sand. Many houses are in ruins, and many more are approaching to that state. Still it is called the new town, although its appearance little entitles it to that appellation; but the ancient inhabitants lived in excavations in the rocks, the remains of which are very distinct. We saw numerous recesses, but thought they were produced by the present race digging for pipe-clay, and the natural mouldering away of the soft rock. When we had finished our visit, we were told the former people lived in these holes. At the bottom of the hill we entered several, not much decayed by time. Most of them are oblong spaces, about ten or twelve feet long, and seven feet high. The entrances of all these had mouldered away very much. At a hundred yards, however, from the base of the hill, and now used as burying ground, there is a subterranean house of large dimensions, and probably the residence of the great personage. The entrance was more than half filled up with sand and small stones that had been thrown in. Clapperton and I entered, and found three extensive galleries, which communicated only by small openings, in passing through which we had to stoop considerably. But the galleries were high (nearly seven feet), and of considerable length (about 150 feet), and each had several small recesses, like sleeping rooms. The whole had neatness about it, and showed a taste in the excavators. There are no traces of similar abodes in Fezzan. The present race are entirely ignorant of the ancient occupiers. The people are so afraid, and so superstitious, that scarcely one of the town had ever entered it. They were astonished when we entered without ceremony; and two, encouraged by our example, brought us a light, by which we were enabled to look into the different recesses.

Saturday, July 6.—At 2. 40. started with a beautiful moonlight, over a sandy plain, with a great many small hillocks. We stopped at Dalhoon, a well nearly filled up with sand, and containing water so brackish that we were unable to drink it. We started again, and got in among the sand hills. Our new guide proved neither such an active man nor experienced pilot as our old Tuarick, as we had several times to retrace our steps.

Monday, July 8.—We entered the wadey Trona early this morning, on the north-east side. Near where we entered there are a cluster of date palms, and a small lake, from which impure trona is obtained. On the western side the trona lake is surrounded with date trees, and its marshy borders are covered on almost all sides by grass, and a tall juncus. It is about half a mile long, and nearly two hundred yards wide. At present it is of inconsiderable depth, from the evaporation of the water; for many places are dry now, which are covered in the winter and spring. The trona crystallizes at the bottom of the lake, when the water is sufficiently saturated; for when the water is in large quantities it eats the trona, as the people say. The cakes vary in thickness, from a fine film to several inches (two or three). The thickest at present is not more than three-fourths of an inch; but in the winter, when the water begins to increase, it is of the thickness I have mentioned. The surface next the ground is not unequal from crystallization, but rough to the feel, from numerous small rounded asperities. That next the water is generally found studded with numerous small, beautiful vertical crystals of muriate of soda; the line of junction is always distinct, and the one is easily removed from the other. When not covered with muriate of soda, the upper surface shows a congeries of small tabular pieces joined in every position. When the mass is broken there is a fine display of reticular crystals, often finely radiated. The surface of the water is covered in many places with large thin sheets of salt, giving the whole the appearance of a lake partially frozen over: film after film forms, till the whole becomes of great thickness. Thus may be observed, on the same space, trona and cubical crystals of muriate of soda, and, on the surface of the water, films accumulating, till the whole amounts to a considerable thickness. The soil of the lake is a dark brown sand, approaching to black, of a viscid consistence, and slimy feel; and, on the lately uncovered surface of the banks, a black substance, something like mineral tar, is seen oozing out. The water begins to increase in the winter, and is at its height in the spring. In the beginning of the winter the trona is thickest and best, but in the spring it disappears entirely. The size of the lake has diminished considerably within the last nine years; and, if care be not taken, the diminution will soon be much more considerable; for plants are making rapid encroachments, and very shallow banks are observable in many places. On making inquiry, I found the quantity of trona has not sensibly diminished for the last ten years. Perhaps it may appear so from there always being sufficient to answer every demand. The quantity annually carried away amounts to between 400 and 500 camel loads, each amounting to about 4 cwt.,—a large quantity, when the size of the lake is taken into account. It is only removed from the lake when a demand comes. A man goes in, breaks it off in large pieces, and those on the banks remove the extraneous matter, and pack it in large square bundles, and bind it up with the retecious substance observable on the roots of the leaves of the date tree, and, bound up in that way, it is taken to the different places,—the greatest to Tripoli, but a considerable quantity is consumed in Fezzan. The price of each load here is two dollars. The water in the valley is good, and very free from saline impregnation. The whole is taken care of by an old black Fezzaneer, Hadje Ali, an unassuming but sensible man. He treated us with every kindness, and showed the greatest readiness to give us every information. He resides here the whole year, and only comes up to Mourzuk occasionally to settle money affairs. When we asked him if he felt his residence solitary, he answered, he was now an old man, and he gained a comfortable livelihood by it, which he could not elsewhere. He possesses great energy; and in his younger years few could cope with him. Since his charge of this place, which is about nine years, it happened Mukni wished more money. He told him decidedly he would give him no more, on which Mukni began to bluster in his usual manner. The old man quietly took up his staff and walked off. The matter was soon settled in the Hadje’s favour; for he is, as our relators informed us, of only one speech; and Mukni, although he speaks harshly, has a good heart. The worms, so much used in Fezzan, are found in this lake in the spring. About twenty camels of the Waled Busafe were waiting for their loads.

Clapperton was sitting on the top of a high sand hill, and so pleased with the view, that he called out several times for me to dismount from my camel to enjoy the treat. The appearance was beautiful. A deep sandy valley, without vegetation, and containing only two large groves of date trees; within each a fine lake was enclosed. The contrast between the bare lofty sand hills, and the two insulated spots, was the great cause of the sensation of beauty. There is something pretty in a lake surrounded with date palms; but when every other object within the sphere of vision is dreary, the scene becomes doubly so.

The worms so celebrated in this kingdom are found in these lakes. They are small animals, almost invisible to the naked eye, and surrounded with a large quantity of gelatinous matter. They are of a reddish-brown colour, and have a strong slimy smell. When seen through a microscope, the head appears small and depressed, the eyes two large black spots, supported on two long peduncles; the body a row of rays on each side, like the fins of fishes, but probably perform the action of legs; they have a continual motion like the tail of fish.

These animalculæ abound in the spring; they are to be found at all times, but in particularly large quantities in high winds. They are caught in a long hand net, by a man going some way into the lake, and after allowing the net to remain some time at the bottom, it is taken up, or drawn a little along the ground; and in this manner several pints are sometimes caught at one time. It is found to be almost impossible to preserve them alive for a few hours after they are taken from the lake. An animal that evidently preys on them is found in considerable numbers. It is about an inch long, annulose, has six feet on each side, and two small corniform processes at the tail. It was past sunset before we saw any of the people of the town; but by the promise of a dollar, a small basin full of the insects was procured for us before daylight in the morning.

VIEW OF THE BAHIR MANDIA.

FROM THE NORTH.

Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826.

The other lakes of these worms are at two days’ journey from this, situated in valleys almost inaccessible from the highness of the sand hills, and frequented only by the Dowedee, or men that fish for the insects only, at the riper season. They are placed in the sun’s rays for a few hours to dry, and in that state sell at a high rate in the different towns in Fezzan.

Wednesday, July 10. We departed at sunrise, and had a much more pleasant journey. The tract was much more free from sand hills, although some of a great height were observable on each side.

The sheikh was very civil, and all our wants were speedily supplied.

We had two marriages to-night. The brides were brought out on a camel, decorated with gaudy dresses, and concealed from public view by awnings. Both brides were on one camel, for the purpose, we were told, of saving expense. Another camel went behind, for receiving the presents of the people, as wheat or barley, by which a feast is made. They went a considerable distance from the town, surrounded by almost all the inhabitants, both male and female. The men, dressed in their best, amused themselves firing muskets and pistols, while the women were singing. The musicians preceded the procession, and exhibited signs of having paid their devotions to Bacchus. They were nearly two hours amusing themselves, before the brides were carried home to their husbands’ houses. The ceremony was announced by the yelling of the women, and the discharge of musketry.

Friday, July 12. We departed early in the morning, and arrived about mid-day at Oubari, where we were obliged to remain a day, for the camel men to arrange their affairs, and rest their camels.

Tuesday, July 16. We had directed the camels to be brought before daylight; but it was after sunrise when they made their appearance. After six we departed. Our course was over a level gravelly valley, with the mountains to the south, and sand hills to the north. The tulloh trees in abundance; some large patches of calcareous crust. We were accompanied by Mahomet, a black Tuarick, that resides in the vicinity of Biar Hadje Ahmut. Halted at Biar.

Wednesday, July 17. Early in the forenoon, a kafila of Tuaricks, most of them Hadjes, arrived from Ghraat. Hateeta rose to salute them, and paid them great respect. One was a maraboot, much respected by the Tuaricks. He is an oldish man, of pleasing countenance and free manner. They were muffled up to near the eyes; but they talked freely with us, and appeared a little prepossessed in our favour; no doubt from the account Hateeta had given them. One was able to give some account of the Targee letters; but no information on the ancient history of his nation. They were anxious we should profess Islamism; but it was only the lips, not the heart they wished to make any impression on. It is sufficient if a man says, “There is no God but one, and Mahomet is his prophet,” and goes through a few forms of prayers. There is some pleasure in beholding a number at one and the same time at their devotions; but when reason is called into action, when the whole is considered as outward show, the beauty and the loveliness lose themselves.

Thursday, July 18. Started, an hour before sunrise. Our course the same as yesterday, over a wide level valley, bounded by the same mountain range, which all along forms shallow bays with bluff extremities. Tops of the hills level. Almost the whole range, from Biar Hadje Ahmut, as free from inequality as the valley. Scattered acacias mostly in flower, and large drops of fine gum arabic hanging from the branches. Notwithstanding the strong prickles, the camels browse on this tree with great avidity and rapidity, and apparently little inconvenience.

Friday, July 19. Form of hills becoming a little different; in place of the regular table tops, peaks and rugged inequalities are making their appearance. At an hour after sunset halted in Wadey Elfoo, or Valley of Cool Breezes. This was a long and fatiguing day for us. We travelled from sunrise till near eight o’clock, and advanced twenty-nine miles without halting. The mid-day heat was oppressive; but would have been doubly so, had it not been for fine cool breezes. The heat, since we left Mourzuk, has generally been moderated by a fine breeze springing up about eight or nine in the morning, and following the sun’s course. It came at times in strong puffs; and according to the state of the skin, appeared cold or hot. When perspiring, cold; when dry, hot. The idea of the want of water made us perhaps more desirous of it. The distance from the one well to the other is four days, which at this season is not small.

Saturday, July 20. Tract, almost entirely destitute of vegetation, till mid-day. Our course among low hills of sandstone and claystone. Here we arrived at a beautiful small wadey, winding among the hills; the last, we are told, we come to, till we arrive at Ludinat. The hills are taking a more southerly direction. We were told they run a considerable distance in the Soudan road, take a bend to the eastward, and pass into the Tibboo country, and down to near Bornou. It is along these hills the Tuaricks make their ghrassies into the Tibboo country. These two nations are almost always at war, and reciprocally annoy each other by a predatory warfare, stealing camels, slaves, &c. killing only when resistance is made, and never making prisoners.

Monday, July 21. About half an hour before sunrise, resumed our journey. We came to alum slate hills, and early in the morning passed a small conical hill called Boukra, or Father of the Foot, where the people of kafilas passing amuse themselves by hopping over it; and he who does that best, is considered least exhausted by the journey. Near this there are a few hills, among which a serpent as large as a camel is said to reside. The Targee is superstitious and credulous in the extreme; every hill and cave has something fabulous connected with it. About mid-day entered the boundaries of the Tuarick country. It is by a small narrow pass over alum slate hills into a sterile sandy valley. At a distance the Tuarick hills, running north and south, not table-topped like those we have left, but rising in numerous peaks and cones. There are here in the vicinity a number of sand hills; and all the valleys are bounded by low alum slate hills, and recently formed fixed sand hills. Sulphate of barytes in several places. About eight, arrived at Ludinat.

The name of the wadey is Sardalis. On a small eminence near us is an old ruinous building, foolishly thought by the people here to be of Jewish origin; although from its structure, it is evidently Arabian. A large spring issues from the middle, and pours out water sufficient to irrigate a large space of ground. It opens into a large basin; the temperature of the water is consequently influenced by the soil and the sun’s rays. Abundant crops of grain might be reared by an industrious people; but the Tuaricks are no agriculturists, and the small cultivated spots are wrought by Fezzaneers. The Tuaricks of the country have a sovereign contempt for inhabitants of cities and cultivators of ground. They look upon them all as degenerated beings. A wide-spreading tree grows near this castle, under which gold is said to be deposited. The accounts are, that the father of the present maraboot, a man renowned for his sanctity, destroyed the writings that pointed out the place. The grave of this Mahometan saint is near, and so revered, that people passing deposit what they consider superfluous; and always find it safe on their return. Thus there is not to be found a Tuarick or Arab so courageous as to violate this sanctuary. The inhabitants are thinly scattered; and we could only observe here and there a few grass houses. The water of the spring is excellent. A few sheep are in the valley, and we were able to buy a tolerably good one from the maraboot.

Thursday, July 24. Camel men long in starting; it was near seven before we were on our journey. Passed near several springs, and on the bank of one found some beautiful bog iron ore. The west side of the wadey had the appearance of a rugged sea coast, and the exposed ledges of rock, that of the beach washed by the waves. The rock is a fine grained sandstone, lying on aluminous slate, which mouldering into dust by exposure to the weather, undermines the sandstone, and gives rise to the rugged appearance. It is rendered more dreary and awful by the black colour of the external surface. At a distance we took the whole to be a basaltic formation, and were not a little deceived on our examination. We entered a narrow pass with lofty rugged hills on each side; some were peaked. The black colour of almost all with white streaks, gave them a sombre appearance. The external surface of this sandstone soon acquires a shining black like basalt: so much so, that I have several times been deceived, till I took up the specimen. The white part is from a shining white aluminous schistus, that separates into minute flakes like snow. The ground had in many places the appearance of being covered with snow. It blew a strong gale as we passed through the different windings; sand was tossed in every direction; the sky was sometimes obscured for several minutes. These, conjoined with the white of the ground and hills, brought forcibly to our minds a snow storm; but the hot wind as speedily convinced us of our error. The pass led to a valley, with a few tulloh trees; this we traversed, and soon entered on a large sandy plain, with the hills of Tadrart on the east, and the high sand hills on the west. This range has a most singular appearance; there is more of the picturesque in this, than in any hills we have ever seen. Let any one imagine ruinous cathedrals and castles; these we had in every position and of every form. It will not be astonishing, that an ignorant and superstitious people should associate these with something supernatural. That is the fact; some particular demon inhabits each. The cause of the appearance is the geological structure. In the distance, there is a hill more picturesque and higher than the others, called Gassur Janoun, or Devil’s Castle. Between it and the range, there is a pass through which our course lies. Hateeta dreads this hill, and has told us many strange stories of wonderful sights having been seen: these he firmly believes; and is struck with horror, when we tell him we will visit it.

Friday, July 25. Kept the range of hills in the same direction. We were much amused by the great diversity of forms. One is called the Devil’s House; and when Clapperton thought he perceived the smell of smoke last night, Hateeta immediately said that it was from the Devil’s House. Another is called the Chest, and under it a large sum of money is supposed to have been deposited by the ancient people, who are said to have been giants of extraordinary stature. At a considerable distance to the southward, a part of the same range is seen taking to the westward, and is continued, we are told, as far as Tuat. Another branch is said to take a bend to the southward and eastward, and join the mountain range of Fezzan. About mid-day halted in the pass between the range and Devil’s Castle.

Made an excursion to Janoun. Our servant Abdullah accompanied me. He kept at a respectable distance behind. When near the hill, he said in a pitiful tone, there is no road up. I told him we would endeavour to find one. The ascent was exceedingly difficult, and so strewed with stones, that we were only able to ascend one of the eminences: there we halted, and found it would be impossible to go higher, as beyond where we were was precipice. Abdullah got more bold, when he found there was nothing more than what is to be seen in any other mountain. The geological structure the same as the range that is near. When Hateeta found I was gone, he got amazingly alarmed; and Clapperton was not able to allay his fears: he was only soothed, when I returned. He was quite astonished I had seen nothing, and began relating what had happened to others.

On the 26th, about half an hour after sunset, arrived at Ghraat; and were soon visited by a number of Hateeta’s relations, one of whom was his sister. Some were much affected, and wept at the sufferings that had detained him so long from them. A number of his male relations soon came, and many of the inhabitants of the town. The ladies were a free and lively set. They were not a little pleased with the grave manner we uttered the various complimentary expressions. Hateeta was not well pleased with something that he had heard. He told us not to be afraid; for he had numerous relations. We said that fear never entered our breasts, and begged him not to be uneasy on our account.

Saturday, July 27. Early in the morning numerous visitors paid their respects to Hateeta, and were introduced in due form to us. We felt the length of time spent in salutations quite fatiguing, and so absurd in our eyes, that we could scarcely at times retain our gravity. Our visitors were mostly residents of the city, and all were decorated in their best. There was a sedateness and gravity in the appearance of all, which the dress tended greatly to augment. There were three natives of Gadames, one of whom knew us through our worthy friend Mahomet D’Ghies; another we had seen in the house of Dr. Dickson; and the third was well acquainted with European manners, having been over at Leghorn.

In the afternoon we visited the sultan. Mats had been spread in the castle, in a small ante-chamber. The old man was seated, but rose up to receive us and welcome us to his city. He apologized for not waiting on us; but said he was sick, and had been very little out for some time. He had guinea-worm, and a cataract was forming in his eyes. He was dressed in a nearly worn out tobe, and trowsers of the same colour; and round his head was wrapped an old piece of yellow coarse cloth for a turban. Notwithstanding the meanness of the dress, there was something pleasing and prepossessing in his countenance, and such a freeness as made us soon quite as much at home as if in our tents. We presented him with a sword, with which he was highly pleased. Hateeta wished it had been a bornouse; but we had none with us we considered sufficiently good. We were led away by the title, sultan. We had no idea the Tuaricks were so vain; for they used to be filling us with high notions of the wealth and greatness of the people here.

Our interview was highly interesting; and every one seemed much pleased with us. The old sultan showed us every kindness; and we had every reason to believe him sincere in his good wishes. After our visit we called at the house of Lameens, son of the kadi. He is a young man of excellent character, and universally respected. His father is now in Ghadames, arranging with some of the other principal inhabitants the affairs of the community. He had left directions with his son to show us every attention. His house was neatly fitted up, and carpets spread on a high bed, on which we seated ourselves. Several of the people who were in the castle came along with us, and by the assistance of those that could speak Arabic, we were able to keep up a tolerably good conversation. On inquiring about the Tuarick letters, we found the same sounds given them as we had before heard from others. We were here at the fountain head, but were disappointed in not being able to find a book in the Tuarick language; they told us there was not one. Some only of the Tuaricks speak the Arabic. We were the more astonished to find this, when we considered the great intercourse between them and nations that speak Arabic only.

It was near sunset before we returned to our tents, which were now tolerably clear of visitors. All had retired to pray and eat. Stewed meat, bread, and soup, were again sent us by the sultan.

In the evening Hateeta’s kinswomen returned. They were greatly amused, and laughed heartily at our blundering out a few Tuarick words. It may be well supposed we were very unfit companions for the ladies, as they could speak no other language than their own, and we knew very little of it. Still, however, we got on well, and were mutually pleased. I could scarcely refrain laughing several times at the grave manner Clapperton assumed. He had been tutored by Hateeta, and fully acted up to his instructions; no Tuarick could have done better. Our friend Hateeta was anxious we should shine, and read a number of lectures to Clapperton. He is naturally lively, and full of humour. He was directed not to laugh or sing, but look as grave as possible, which Hateeta said would be sure to please the grave Tuaricks. As for myself, I had a natural sedateness, which Hateeta thought would do. The liveliness of the women, their freeness with the men, and the marked attention the latter paid them, formed a striking contrast with other Mahommedan states. Thus the day passed over well, and we had every reason to be pleased with the demeanour of the people, and the attention they paid us.

Violent gale from the northward, which almost smothered us with sand.

About four we went to visit the spring we had heard so much about, and to make a circuit round the town. The water is contained in a large reservoir, surrounded with palm trees; and the banks are covered with rushes, except when the people go to draw water. There is not that bubbling up we saw in the spring of Shiati and Ludinat, but apparently an oozing from a large surface, as in those of Traghan. The water is clear, well tasted, and in abundance: a large extent of soil is supplied by it, through channels cut in the ground; and all the town is supplied from this place. Good water and plenty of it is a great blessing in every quarter of the globe, but much more in a hot climate. The people are sensible of it; for you hear this place and that praised for the abundance of this water, and the healthiness of its quality; and you often hear them say that it does not engender bile, as the waters of such a place. Some small spots here are really beautiful, from the diversity of scenery in a small compass. Here and there patches of grass and beds of water melons, in the edge of the water channels, fine palms loaded with ripe fruit, small squares of gufolly and cassoub, and beautiful vines clinging to the trees; in the brakes, the town and black tinted low hills. We observed platforms, of palm leaves, raised about five feet from the ground, for the purpose of sleeping, and defending the person from scorpions, which are very common.

We now came in sight of the town, and were well pleased with the appearance. The houses neat and clean; and the mosque, finer than any thing of the kind in Fezzan. All was neat and simple. It is built at the foot of a low hill, on the summit of which the former town stood; but it, as we were told, was destroyed, and the greater part of the inhabitants, by the giving way of the portion of hill on which it was erected. The hills, composed as those about here, are very apt to fall down in large masses. Indeed, none of the hills appear of their original height. It was not long since a large portion of a neighbouring mountain gave way, and the noise of its fall was heard at a great distance. When the melancholy event of the destruction of the town took place, we could not learn.

The town is surrounded with walls, in good repair, formed of sand and whitish clay, that gives a clean and lively appearance to the whole. There is only one gate opening to the east; formerly there were more, that are now blocked up. The houses are built of the same substance as the walls, and the external form and internal arrangement the same as those of Mourzuk and other Mahommedan towns. The town appears to be about the size of Oubari, and perhaps contains about 1000 inhabitants. The burying-ground is outside the town; it is divided into two departments, one for those arrived at maturity, the other for children,—a distinction not observable in Fezzan.

In our walk we fell in with a number of females, who had come out to see us. All were free and lively, and not at all deterred by the presence of the men. Several had fine features; but only one or two could be called beautiful. Many of the natives came out of their houses as we passed along, and cordially welcomed us to their town. It was done in such a manner, that we could not but feel pleased and highly flattered.

In the evening we heard a numerous band of females singing at a distance, which was continued till near midnight. The women were principally those of the country. This custom is very common among the people, and is one of the principal amusements in the mountain recesses. Hateeta said they go out when their work is finished in the evening, and remain till near midnight in singing and telling stories, return home, take supper, and go to bed.

The language of the Tuaricks is harsh and guttural; but it has great strength, and is evidently expressive. That at least is the opinion we were led to form, with our imperfect knowledge. The want of books, and the little attention paid to cultivating a language, must tend to keep it in a very imperfect state. The sedate character of the Tuarick seems to be a firm barrier against the muses. The males seldom sing; it is considered an amusement fit only for females. Their songs were described to us as sweet. We never heard one repeating any poetical lines. The people have good sound sense, and give more distinct accounts of what they have seen than I have received from the Moorish merchants. They would be a shining people, were they placed in more favourable situations. On almost every stone in places they frequent, the Tuarick characters are hewn out. It matters nothing whether the letters are written from the right to the left, or vice versa, or written horizontally.

LETTERS.

These characters will be sufficient to enable the learned to trace the connexion of the language with others that are now extinct. Here we have no opportunity of making inquiries into this important subject.

Note. The rest of the Journal, describing their return to Mourzuk, is wholly uninteresting, and is therefore omitted.

RECENT DISCOVERIES
IN
AFRICA.

CHAPTER I.
FROM MOURZUK TO KOUKA IN BORNOU.

On the evening of the 29th of November we left Mourzuk, accompanied by nearly all those of the town, who could muster a horse: the camels had moved early in the day, and at Zezow we found the tents pitched—there are here merely a few huts. From Zezow to Traghan there is a good high road, with frequent incrustations of salt, and we arrived there before noon. It is a clean walled town, one of the best of one hundred and nine, of which Fezzan is said to boast. Traghan was formerly as rich as Mourzuk, and was the capital and residence of a sultan, who governed the eastern part of Fezzan, whose castle, in ruins, may still be seen.

A maraboot, of great sanctity, is the principal person in Traghan, as his father was before him. During the reign of the present bashaw’s father, when the Arab troops appeared before the town, the then maraboot and chief went out to meet them; and, from his own stores, paid sixty thousand dollars to prevent the property of his townspeople from being plundered. They make carpets here equal to those of Constantinople. There are some springs of good water in the gardens near the town, the only ones in Fezzan, it is said, except the tepid one at Hammam, near Sockna.

After being crammed, as it were, by the hospitality of the maraboot, we left Traghan for Maefen, an assemblage of date huts, with but one house. The road to this place lies over a mixture of sand and salt, having a curious and uncommon appearance: the surface is full of cracks, and in many places it has the effect of a new ploughed field: the clods are so hard, that it is with great difficulty they can be broken. The path by which all the animals move for some miles is a narrow space, or stripe, worn smooth, bearing a resemblance, both in hardness and appearance, to ice: near Maefen, it assumes a new and more beautiful shape, the cracks are larger, and from the sides of cavities several feet deep hang beautiful crystals, from beds of frost of the purest white[9]. I broke off a large mass, but the interior was as brittle as the exterior was difficult to break; the frost work was fine salt, and fell away in flakes on being lightly shaken. It extends more than twenty miles, east and west. The water of Maefen, though strongly tinctured with soda, is not disagreeable to the taste, or unwholesome.

Quitting Maefen, we quickly entered on a desert plain; and, after a dreary fourteen hours march for camels, we arrived at Mestoola, a maten, or resting place, where the camels find some little grazing from a plant called Ahgul. Starting at sun-rise, we had another fatiguing day over the same kind of desert, without, I think, seeing one living thing that did not belong to our kafila—not a bird, or even an insect: the sand is beautifully fine, round, and red. We now arrived at Gatrone. The Arabs watch for a sight of the high date trees, which surround this town, as sailors look for land; and after discovering these landmarks, they shape their course accordingly.

I here joined my companions, whom I found in a state of health but ill calculated for undertaking a long and tedious journey. During my stay at Mourzuk, I had suffered from a severe attack of fever, which had kept me for ten days in my bed; and although considerably debilitated, yet was I strong in comparison with my associates. Doctor Oudney was suffering much from his cough, and still complaining of his chest. Mr. Clapperton’s ague had not left him, and Hillman had been twice attacked so violently as to be given over by the doctor. We all, however, looked forward anxiously to proceeding, and fancied that change of scene and warmer weather would bring us all round. Gatrone is not unpleasingly situated: it is surrounded by sandhills, and mounds of earth covered with a small tree, called athali. Huts are built all round the town for the Tibboos.

Though encamped on the south side of the town, we had cold north and north-east winds, and the thermometer in the tent was from 43 to 45 in the mornings. The person of the greatest importance at Gatrone is one Hagi-el-Raschid, a large proprietor and a maraboot. He is a man of very clear understanding and amiable manners, and as he uses the superstition of the people as the means of making them happy and turning them from vicious pursuits, one becomes almost reconciled to an impostor.

Much necessary arrangement had been made here by laying in a stock of dates, &c. for our long journey: and at eleven A.M. we left Gatrone. The maraboot accompanied Boo-Khaloom outside the town, and having drawn, not a magic circle, but a parallelogram, on the sand, with his wand he wrote in it certain words of great import from the Koran; the crowd looking on in silent astonishment, while he assumed a manner both graceful and imposing, so as to make it impossible for any one to feel at all inclined to ridicule his motions. When he had finished repeating the fatah aloud, he invited us singly to ride through the spot he had consecrated, and, having obeyed him, we silently proceeded on our journey, without even repeating an adieu.

We passed a small nest of huts on the road, prettily situated, called El-Bahhi, from whence the women of the place followed us with songs for several miles. Having halted at Medroosa, we moved on the next morning, and leaving an Arab castle to the south-east, and some table-top hills, bearing south and by east, we arrived at Kasrowa by three in the afternoon.

Kasrowa has tumuli of some height all round the town, covered with the plant athali, and there is a well of good water: a road from hence branches off to the south-east, which goes to Kanem and Waday. It is also said to be the shortest road to Bornou, but there is a great scarcity of water.

On the 9th, we were to arrive at Tegerhy; and the Arabs commenced skirmishing as soon as we came within sight of it, and kept it up in front of the town for half an hour after our arrival.

We were here to halt for a day or two, for the purpose of taking in the remainder of our dates and provisions, and never was halt more acceptable. Hillman, our carpenter, and two of our servants, were really too ill to be moved; two of them had fevers, and one the ague. Hillman had been so weakened by previous attacks, as to be lifted on and off his mule: indeed we were all sickly. Doctor Oudney’s complaint in his chest, and his cough, had gradually become worse; and going only a few hundred yards to see a dome date tree so fatigued him that, after lying down, he was obliged to return, supported by Mr. Clapperton. As our servants were all ill, one of the negro women made us a mess of kouscasou, with some preserved fat, which had been prepared in Mourzuk: it was a sorry meal, for the fat was rancid; and although tired, and not very strong, I could not refuse an invitation, about nine at night, after I had lain down to sleep, to eat camel’s heart with Boo-Khaloom: it was wofully hard and tough, and I suffered the next morning from indulging too much at the feast.

CASTLE AND SALT LAKE AT TEGERHY.

Published by John Murray, London. Feb. 1826.

The Tibboos and Arabs kept us awake half the night with their singing and dancing, in consequence of the bousafer, or feast, on entering the Tibboo country. Boo-Khaloom gave two camels, and we gave one. Our sick seemed to gain a little strength; and as we had succeeded in purchasing a sheep, a little soup seemed to revive them much; but we feared that Hillman and one of the servants must be left behind. However distressing would such an event have been, it was impossible for men who could not sit upright on a mule to commence a journey of fifteen days over a desert, during which travellers are obliged to march from sunrise until dark.

The 12th December was a beautifully mild morning, the thermometer at eight being at 56. After breakfast, all seemed revived; but it was with pain I observed the exceeding weakness of Doctor Oudney and Hillman. I managed to get a sketch of the castle of Tegerhy from the south side of a salt pool close to the town; the entrance to which is small, low, and arched, something resembling a sally-port: within a second wall and gateway, there are loop-holes which would render the entrance by the narrow passage before mentioned extremely difficult: above the second gateway, there is also an opening from whence missiles and firebrands, of which the Arabs formerly made great use, might be poured on the assailants. Wells of water are within the walls, and tolerably good; and with supplies, when in a state of repair, I have no doubt Tegerhy might make a very good defence.

The sultans of Fezzan probably think that the only means of keeping these people in order is by keeping them poor. Their only produce is dates, but those are of excellent quality. No vegetables are raised here, and we could not even procure an onion. Almost every town in Africa has its charm or wonder, and Tegerhy is not without one. There is a well just outside the castle gates, the water of which, we were told most gravely, “always rose when a kafila was coming near the town! that the inhabitants always prepared what they had to sell on seeing this water increase in bulk, for it never deceived them!”—In proof of this assertion, they pointed out to me how much higher the water had been previous to our arrival than it was at the moment we were standing on the brink. This I could have explained by the number of camels that had drank at it, but I saw it was better policy to believe what every body allowed to be true: even Boo-Khaloom exclaimed, “Allah! God is great, powerful, and wise! How wonderful! Oh!” Over the inner gate of the castle there is a large hole through to the gateway underneath, and they tell a story of a woman dropping from thence a stone on the head of some leader who had gained the outer wall, giving him, by that means, the death of Abimelech in sacred history.

The situation of Tegerhy is rather pleasing than otherwise: it is surrounded by date trees, and the water is excellent; a range of low hills extends to the eastward; and snipes, wild-ducks, and geese, frequent the salt-pools, which are near the town. The natives are quite black, but have not the negro face: the men are slim, very plain, with high cheek bones, the negro nose, large mouth, teeth much stained by the quantity of tobacco and trona (or muriate of soda) which they eat; and even snuff, when given to them, goes directly into their mouths.

The young girls are most of them pretty, but less so than those of Gatrone. The men always carry two daggers, one about eighteen inches, and the other six inches, the latter of which is attached to a ring and worn on the arm or wrist. A Tibboo once told me, pointing to the long one, “this is my gun; and this,” showing the smaller of the two, “is my pistol.” The women make baskets and drinking-bowls of palm leaves with great neatness.

On the 13th, we left Tegerhy, and proceeded on the desert: it was scattered with mounds of earth and sand, covered with athila (a plant the camels eat with avidity), and other shrubs. After travelling six miles we arrived at a well called Omah, where our tents were pitched, and here we halted three days. On the 16th, after clearing the palm trees, by which Omah is surrounded, we proceeded on the desert. About nine we had a slight shower of rain. At three in the afternoon, we came to a halt at Ghad, after travelling ten miles. Near the wells of Omah, numbers of human skeletons, or parts of skeletons, lay scattered on the sands. Hillman, who had suffered dreadfully since leaving Tegerhy, was greatly shocked at these whitened skulls, and unhallowed remains; so much so, as to want all the encouragement I could administer to him.

Dec. 17.—We continued our course over a stony plain, without the least appearance of vegetation. Coarse opal and sand-stone[10] strewed the path. We saw Alowere-Seghrir, a ridge of hills, bearing east by south; Alowere-El-Kebir, a still higher ridge, lies more to the east, but was not visible. These, by the accounts of the natives, are the highest mountains in the Tibboo country, with the exception of Ercherdat Erner. More to the south, the inhabitants are called Tibboo-Irchad (the Tibboos of the rocks). Through passes in both these mountains, the road lies to Kanem. About sunset, we halted near a well, within a half mile of Meshroo. Round this spot were lying more than one hundred skeletons, some of them with the skin still remaining attached to the bones—not even a little sand thrown over them. The Arabs laughed heartily at my expression of horror, and said, “they were only blacks, nam boo!” (damn their fathers!) and began knocking about the limbs with the butt end of their firelocks, saying, “This was a woman! This was a youngster!” and such like unfeeling expressions. The greater part of the unhappy people, of whom these were the remains, had formed the spoils of the sultan of Fezzan the year before. I was assured that they had left Bornou with not above a quarter’s allowance for each; and that more died from want than fatigue: they were marched off with chains round their necks and legs: the most robust only arrived in Fezzan in a very debilitated state, and were there fattened for the Tripoli slave market.

Our camels did not come up until it was quite dark, and we bivouacked in the midst of these unearthed remains of the victims of persecution and avarice, after a long day’s journey of twenty-six miles, in the course of which, one of our party counted 107 of these skeletons.

Dec. 19[11].—Moved round a winding pass to the west, and after an ascent of three hundred feet descended a sandy steep to the east. This was rather a picturesque spot, looking back upon Thenea. Our road lay over a long plain with a slight ridge. A fine naga (she-camel) lay down on the road this day, as I thought from fatigue. The Arabs crowded round, and commenced unloading her, when, upon inquiry, I found that she was suddenly taken in labour: about five minutes completed the operation,—a very fine little animal was literally dragged into light. It was then thrown across another camel; and the mother, after being reloaded, followed quietly after her offspring. One of the skeletons we passed to-day had a very fresh appearance; the beard was still hanging to the skin of the face, and the features were still discernible. A merchant, travelling with the kafila, suddenly exclaimed, “That was my slave! I left him behind four months ago, near this spot.”—“Make haste! take him to the fsug” (market), said an Arab wag, “for fear any body else should claim him.” We had no water, and a most fatiguing day.

Dec. 20 was also a dreary day of most uninteresting country; and it was 5. 30. when we arrived at the Hormut-el-Wahr. These were the highest hills we had seen since leaving Fezzan: the highest peak might be five or six hundred feet. They had a bold black appearance, and were a relief to the eye, after the long level we had quitted. We entered the pass, which is nearly two miles in width, and wound round some high hills to the south: the path was rugged and irregular in the extreme, and bordered by bold conical and table-topped detached hills. We blundered and stumbled on until ten at night, when we found the resting-place, after a toilsome and most distressing day. We were several times foiled in our attempt to find a path into the wadey, under these hills, by which the camels might move, and where the water was. Hillman was exceedingly ill this night, and Dr. Oudney too fatigued to render him any assistance. El-Wahr is a wadey of loose gravel, and has a well of good water. This was the eighth day since our camels had tasted water: they were weak and sore-footed, from the stony nature of the passes in these hills of El-Wahr. At night it blew a hurricane.

It is three miles from where we halted to the end of the wadey; where, to the west, there is a high hill called El-Baab. These hills extend away to the east, and form part of the range which are found near Tibesty, where they become higher and bolder. We had now a stony plain, with low hills of sand and gravel, till we reached El-Garha, which is a detached conical hill to the west, close to our road; and here we halted for the night[12].

Dec. 22.—We moved before daylight, passing some rough sand hills, mixed with red stone, to the west, over a plain of fine gravel, and halted at the maten, called El-Hammar, close under a bluff head, which had been in view since quitting our encampment in the morning. Strict orders had been given this day for the camels to keep close up, and for the Arabs not to straggle—the Tibboo Arabs having been seen on the look out. During the last two days, we had passed on an average from sixty to eighty or ninety skeletons each day; but the numbers that lay about the wells at El-Hammar were countless: those of two women, whose perfect and regular teeth bespoke them young, were particularly shocking; their arms still remained clasped round each other as they had expired; although the flesh had long since perished by being exposed to the burning rays of the sun, and the blackened bones only left: the nails of the fingers, and some of the sinews of the hand, also remained; and part of the tongue of one of them still appeared through the teeth. We had now passed six days of desert without the slightest appearance of vegetation, and a little branch of the souak was brought me here as a comfort and curiosity. On the following day we had alternately plains of sand and loose gravel, and had a distant view of some hills to the west. While I was dozing on my horse about noon, overcome by the heat of the sun, which at that time of the day always shone with great power, I was suddenly awakened by a crashing under his feet, which startled me excessively. I found that my steed had, without any sensation of shame or alarm, stepped upon the perfect skeletons of two human beings, cracking their brittle bones under his feet, and, by one trip of his foot, separating a skull from the trunk, which rolled on like a ball before him. This event gave me a sensation which it took some time to remove. My horse was for many days not looked upon with the same regard as formerly.

Dec. 24.—When the rains fall, which they do here in torrents in the season, a sort of grass quickly springs up many feet high. In passing the desert, a few remaining roots of this dried grass, which had been blown by the winds from Bodemam, were eagerly seized on by the Arabs, with cries of joy, for their hungry camels. The plain was this day covered with slight irregularities, and strewed with various coloured stones—thick beds of gypsum, stones resembling topazes, and pieces of calcareous spar, which, reflecting the rays of the setting-sun, displayed a most beautiful variety of tints. An incrustation of fine whiting lay in patches, at no great distance from the well: and soon after the sun had retired behind the hills to the west, we descended into a wadey, where about a dozen stunted bushes (not trees) of palm marked the spot where the water was to be found. Even these miserable bushes were a great relief to the eye, after the dreary sameness of the preceding days; and at day-break in the morning, I could not help smiling at seeing Hillman gazing at them with pleasure in his look, while he declared they reminded him of a valley near his own home in the West of England. The wells are situated under a ridge of low white hills of sandstone, called Mafrasben-Kasarettsa, where there are also beds and hills of limestone. The wells were so choked up with sand, that several cart-loads of it were removed previous to finding sufficient water; and even then the animals could not drink until near ten at night.

One of our nagas had this day her accouchement on the road; and we all looked forward to the milk which the Arabs assured us she had in abundance, and envied us not a little our morning draughts, which we were already quaffing in imagination. However, one of the “many slips between the cup and the lip” was to befall us. The poor thing suddenly fell, and as suddenly died: the exclamations of the Arabs were dreadful.—“The evil eye! the evil eye!” they all exclaimed—“She was sure to die, I knew it.”—“Well! if she had been mine, I would rather have lost a child, or three slaves!”—“God be praised! God is great, powerful, and wise! those looks of the people are always fatal.”

Dec. 25.—This was a beautiful mild morning: the thermometer 54. at 6. 30. Our skins were here filled with water which was not disagreeable, although strongly impregnated with sulphur. The camels moved at eight. The head of a range of high hills bore west-south-west, called Tiggerindumma: they resemble in shape and structure those we had passed nearer: they extend to the west, as far as the Arooda, five days hence, where there is a well; and ten days beyond which is Ghraat. At the distance of four miles from Mafras, we came to a small wadey, where we saw the first dome date trees: they were full of fruit, though green. We continued winding amongst a nest of hills,—crossed two water-courses, in which were tulloh and dry grass (ashub), until seven. These hills are bold and picturesque, composed of black and coloured sandstone. No water.

Dec. 26[13].—We emerged from the hills, and broke into a plain, extending to the east as far as the eye could reach; to the west, Tiggerindumma sweeps off, and forming nearly a semi-circle, appears again to the south, a very handsome range, though not exceeding six hundred feet at any part in height. After passing between two low ridges of dark hills, we opened on a plain bounded with flat-topped and conical hills, called La Gaba. We found pieces of iron ore this day, kidney-shaped, and of various other forms. We travelled till nine at night, when some of us were nearly falling from our horses with fatigue. After a narrow stony pass, we came to a halt in a wadey called Izhya.

Here we had a gale of wind from the north-east for three days. Our tents were nearly buried in sand, and we were obliged to roll ourselves up in blankets nearly the whole time.

Dec. 30.—Izhya is called by the Tibboos Yaat. There are here four wells, which resemble troughs cut in the sand, two or three feet deep; and it is said, that by thus digging, water may be found in any part of the wadey. We were encamped nearly west of the wells, about one hundred yards between them and a raas, or head, which had been in sight for some time. This head is a land-mark to kafilas, coming in all directions, who wish to make the wadey. We passed Ametradumma about four hours; from which, to the north-west, is a wadey of palms, called Seggedem, with sweet water: here is generally a tribe of plundering Tibboos, who are always on the look out for small kafilas. No water.

Dec. 31.—A cold shivering morning. At 7. 30. thermometer 49., and we had a long day’s march over a plain, varying but little from Izhya. The Arabs had no knowledge of the road; and the Tibboo guide was all we had to rely on. We kept on until late, when the Tibboo acknowledged he had lost the road, that the well was not far off, but where he knew not; we therefore halted under some low brown sandstone hills, and determined on waiting for the daylight. We lost a camel this day from fatigue.

1823.

On the 1st January, after six miles’ travelling, we came to the wadey Ikbar, and rested on the 2d. The Arabs here caught an hyæna (dhubba), and brought it to us: we, however, had no wish beyond looking at it. They then tied it to a tree, and shot at it until the poor animal was literally knocked to pieces. This was the most refreshing spot we had seen for many days; there were dome trees loaded with fruit, though not ripe, which lay in clusters, and grass in abundance; and I could have stayed here a week with pleasure, so reviving is the least appearance of cultivation, or rather a sprinkling of Nature’s beauty, after the parching wilds of the long dreary desert we had passed.

Jan. 3.—Looking back with regret at leaving the few green branches in Ikbar, with nothing before us but the dark hills and sandy desert, we ascended slightly from the wadey, and leaving the hills of Ikbar, proceeded towards a prominent head in a low range to the east of our course, called Tummeraskumma, meaning “you’ll soon drink water;” and about two miles in advance, we halted just under a ridge of the same hills, after making twenty-four miles. Four camels knocked up during this day’s march: on such occasions the Arabs wait, in savage impatience, in the rear, with their knives in their hands, ready, on the signal of the owner, to plunge them into the poor animal, and tear off a portion of the flesh for their evening meal. We were obliged to kill two of them on the spot; the other two, it was hoped, would come up in the night. I attended the slaughter of one; and despatch being the order of the day, a knife is struck in the camel’s heart while his head is turned to the east, and he dies almost in an instant; but before that instant expires, a dozen knives are thrust into different parts of the carcass, in order to carry off the choicest part of the flesh. The heart, considered as the greatest delicacy, is torn out, the skin stripped from the breast and haunches, part of the meat cut, or rather torn, from the bones, and thrust into bags, which they carry for the purpose; and the remainder of the carcass is left for the crows, vultures, and hyænas, while the Arabs quickly follow the kafila.

ANAY.

TIBBOO COUNTRY.

Published Feb. 1826, by John Murray, London.

Jan. 4.—We crossed the ridge before us by eight this morning, and proceeded between a conical hill to the east and one to the west, called Gummaganumma. We had a fine open space of a mile in width between these hills, and about noon we came to a large mass of dark, soft sandstone, one hundred feet in height; about twenty yards from this stone is a rising well of water, only a few inches deep, and a sprinkling of coarse grass. Arabs call the spot “Irchat,” Tibboos, “Anay.” The sultan’s army halted here two days, on its return from Begharmi.

The town of Anay consists of a few huts built on the top of a similar mass of stone to the one we had just left; round the base of the rock are also habitations, but their riches are always kept aloft. The Tuaricks annually, and sometimes oftener, pay them a most destructive visit, carrying off cattle and every thing they can lay their hands on. The people on these occasions take refuge at the top of the rock; they ascend by a rude ladder, which is drawn up after them; and as the sides of their citadel are always precipitous, they defend themselves with their missiles, and by rolling down stones on the assailants. The people who came out to meet us had each four short spears and one long one.

Jan. 5.—The Sultan Tibboo, whose territory extends from this place to Bilma, was visiting a town to the south-west of Anay, called Kisbee, and he requested Boo-Khaloom to halt there one day, promising to proceed with him to Bilma; we accordingly made Kisbee this day, distant five miles. Our animals got some pickings of dry grass.

Kisbee is a great place of rendezvous for all kafilas and merchants; and it is here that the sultan always takes his tribute for permission to pass through his country. It is eight days distant from Aghadis, twenty-four from Kashna, and, by good travelling by the nearest road, twenty-seven from Bornou[14]. The sultan had neither much majesty nor cleanliness of appearance: he came to Boo-Khaloom’s tent accompanied by six or seven Tibboos, some of them really hideous. They take a quantity of snuff both in their mouths and noses; their teeth were of a deep yellow; the nose resembles nothing so much as a round lump of flesh stuck on the face; and the nostrils are so large, that their fingers go up as far as they will reach, in order to ensure the snuff an admission into the head. My watch, compass, and musical snuff-box, created but little astonishment; they looked at their own faces in the bright covers, and were most stupidly inattentive to what would have excited the wonder of almost any imagination, however savage: here was the “os sublime,” but the “spiritus intus,” the “mens divinior,” was scarcely discoverable. Boo-Khaloom gave the sultan a fine scarlet bornouse, which seemed a little to animate his stupid features. We had a dance by Tibboo-men performed in front of our tents, in the evening: it is graceful and slow, but not so well adapted to the male as the female; it was succeeded by one performed by some free slaves from Soudan, who were living with the Tibboos, enjoying their liberty, as they said. It appears most violent exertion: one man is placed in the middle of a circle, which he endeavours to break, and each one whom he approaches throws him off, while he adds to the impetus by a leap, and ascends several feet from the ground:—when one has completed the round, another takes his place.