Some Heroes of Travel, or, Chapters from the History of Geographical Discovery and Enterprise

In general, the houses are well built, and the thatched roofs are formed with care, and even with neatness; but the clay is not of a good kind for building, and the clay houses afford so little security from the rains, that most persons prefer to reside during that part of the year in huts of straw and reed.

While waiting the Sultan’s arrival, Dr. Barth’s time was chiefly occupied in defending himself against the attacks of the large black ant (Termes mordax). One day, in particular, he maintained a long and desperate encounter with a host of these voracious little insects. In a thick unbroken column, about an inch broad, they had marched over the wall of the courtyard, and entering the hall where he abode both day and night, advanced right upon the store-room. But his couch being in their way, they immediately assailed his own person, and compelled him to decamp. Assisted by his servants, he then fell upon the bandits, killing all the stragglers and foragers, and burning the main body of the army as it proceeded on its way. But fresh legions arrived on the scene of war, and it took a struggle of two hours’ duration thoroughly to break up their lines, and put them to flight.

The insects seemed to have been attracted by the corn which Dr. Barth had stored up. But it must be owned that, if inconvenient in one respect, their attacks are beneficial in another; for they destroy all kinds of vermin, mice included. And while they thus act as the “scavengers of the houses,” in many parts of Negroland they also render service through their very greediness in gathering what man would fain appropriate for himself. They lay in such considerable stores of corn, that the poor natives frequently dig out their holes in order to gain possession of their supplies.

It was on the 3rd of July that the Sultan appeared before the walls of his capital, escorted by about eight hundred cavalry. At the head of the cortége rode the lieutenant-governor, surrounded by a troop of cavaliers. Then came the Barma, followed by a man carrying a spear of ancient and peculiar shape, designed to represent the “fetish,” or idol of Kénga-Matáya, the original patrimony of the kings of Bagirmi. Next rode the Fácha, or commander-in-chief, who is the second person in the kingdom; and after him the Sultan himself, attired in a yellow burnous, and mounted on a grey charger, the points of which could hardly be seen owing to the amplitude of the war-trappings that hung about him. Nor was the head of his rider much more plainly visible, not only on account of the horsemen gathered round him, but more particularly owing to two umbrellas – one of green, the other of red – borne on each side of him by a couple of slaves.

Six slaves, their right arms clad in iron, fanned the magnificent prince with ostrich feathers attached to long poles, while round about him were gathered a motley array of his captains and courtiers, gay in burnouses of various colours, or in shirts of black or blue. Behind them followed the war-camel, bestridden by the drummer, Kodgánga, who made the echoes resound with the clang of a couple of kettle-drums, fastened on each side of the animal; and the charivari was swelled by the exertions of three musicians, two of whom played upon horns, and the third upon a bugle. Mention must be made of the long train of the Sultan’s female slaves, or favourites, forty-five in number, all mounted upon horseback, all dressed from head to foot in black cloth, and all guarded by a slave on either side. The procession was terminated by a train of eleven camels, carrying the baggage.

A day or two afterwards, an officer of the Sultan demanded Dr. Barth’s attendance at the palace. He hastened thither; and being admitted into an inner courtyard, found the courtiers sitting on either side of a door, which was protected by screenwork made of very fine reeds. Being desired to sit down, along with his companions, and ignorant whom he should address, he asked in a loud voice if the Sultan ’Abdel-Kadir were present. A clear voice, from behind the screen, answered that he was. When fully satisfied that he was addressing the prince, he proceeded to offer his respects, and present the compliments of the great and powerful British Government, which desired to be on terms of unity with so illustrious a prince. His speech, which he delivered in Arabic, was translated by an interpreter, and received a favourable reply. His presents also were accepted with satisfaction, and the audience ended. Next day he had a second audience, at which he expressed his desire to return to Kúkáwa. After some slight delay, he obtained the Sultan’s leave to depart, and was supplied with a camel and two horsemen to assist him on his journey. Well pleased with the result of his visit to Másená, after the inauspicious circumstances which had attended its commencement, he set out on his return to the capital of Bornú, and arrived there in safety on the 21st of August. He was glad to find Mr. Overweg in excellent spirits, for liberal supplies had been forwarded by the British Government, though looking physically weak and exhausted. The sheikh received him with great cordiality, and he enjoyed a degree of comfort and repose to which he had long been a stranger.

His business, however, was to explore unknown countries, and to open up new paths to the enterprise of commerce. Considering it almost impossible to penetrate southward, on account of the obstacles thrown in his way by the native princes, he meditated a journey westward in the hope of reaching the celebrated city of Timbúktu, at one time the centre of so many extravagant legends. The fulfilment of his projects was delayed by an unhappy calamity. During a short excursion in the neighbourhood of Kúkáwa, Mr. Overweg got wet, caught a chill, and was afterwards seized with a violent fever, which carried him off in a few hours (September 27th). He died, a martyr to science, and one of the many victims of African exploration, in his thirtieth year.

A delay of some weeks was the necessary result of this melancholy event; but Barth, though left alone, was not to be turned aside from the great object of all his labours. His gaze was directed towards the Niger – towards the terra incognita which lay between the route pursued by the French traveller, Caillé, and the region in which Lander and Major Clapperton had achieved so many important discoveries. His preparations completed, he took final leave of Kúkáwa on the 25th of November; and on the 9th of December had crossed the frontier of Háusa. On the 12th he directed his course towards the north-east, and the mountain region of Múniyo. The road waved, serpent-like, through a succession of valleys, the green sides of which were covered with groves and villages. Múniyo takes the form of a wedge, or triangle, the apex projecting towards the desert. The home of a peaceful and industrious population, who flourish under a mild and orderly government, it presents an agreeable contrast to the neighbouring territories, inhabited by nomads. Its rulers, men of courage and energy, have not only been able to defend their country against the attacks of the Babus, but to encroach upon the district of Diggéra, which had submitted to the latter. The chief of this independent province can bring into the field, it is said, an army of 1500 horse and 9000 or 10,000 archers; and his revenue amounts to 30,000,000 kurdi (about £6000) a year, without counting the tax which he levies on the crops.

Barth diverged somewhat to the westward in order to visit U’shek, the largest corn-producing district in western Bornú; it is characterized by a curious alternation of luxuriance and sterility. At the foot of a mountain lies a barren, desolate tract, on the very threshold of which lies an undulating country, bright with date-palms and tamarisks, with crystal pools and rich grasses. Around the town of U’shek spreads a glittering girdle of corn-fields, onion-beds, cotton-fields, in various stages of development. Here the labourer is breaking up the clods and irrigating the soil; there, his neighbour is weeding out his blooming crops. The vegetation everywhere is abundant. The accumulation of refuse prevents you, however, from gaining a general view of the village, which lurks in the sheltering folds of the soil; but the main group of houses surrounds the foot of an eminence, crowned by the habitation of the chief. Observe that while the huts are made of reeds and the stems of millet, the towers in which the grain is pounded are constructed of clay, and ten feet in height.

Beyond U’shek stretches a sandy table-land, waving with a dense growth of reeds, and intersected by fertile valleys. Then comes a spur of the mountain-range which rises in the south-west; an irregular and broken plain, carpeted with grass and broom; a jungle of mimosas, dense thickets of capparis, and at intervals small patches of cultivated land. The climate is intensely hot; the very soil seems to burn; and our traveller, feeling himself ill, was forced to rest. During the night, a cold north-east wind covered him and his followers with the feathery awns of the pennixtum; and they rose in the morning in a condition of indescribable uneasiness. The next night was also cold; but there was no wind.

At Badámuni, the fertile fields are brightened with springs, which feed a couple of lakes, connected by a canal. Notwithstanding this channel of intercommunication, one of these lakes is of fresh water; the other brackish, and strongly impregnated with natron. It is noticeable that in this region all the valleys and all the mountain-chains run from north-east to south-west, and the direction of the two lakes is the same. Their margin is fringed with papyrus, except that at the point where the water turns brackish the papyrus is succeeded by the kumba, the pith of which is edible. Dr. Barth’s two attendants, born on the shores of the Tchad, immediately recognized this species of reed as growing in a similar manner at the point where that great inland sea touches the basins of nature that surround it. It is a curious circumstance that while the lake of fresh water is of a bright blue, and calm and smooth as a mirror, the other is green as the sea, and heaves to and fro in constant commotion, rolling its foamy waves to the beach, which they strew with marine weeds.

The town of Zindu is protected by a rampart and ditch. Its aspect is remarkable: a mass of rock rises in the western quarter; and outside the walls stony ridges run in all directions, throwing forth a myriad crystal streams, which fertilize the tobacco-fields, and secure for the immediate neighbourhood an exceptional fertility. The landscape is enlivened by frequent clumps of date-palms and by the huts of the Touaregs, who conduct a brisk trade in salt. To the south extends an immense piece of ground, utilized, at the time of Dr. Barth’s visit, as a garden of acclimatization. It is easy, let us say, to define the ground-plan of Zindu, but not to depict the stir and movement of which it is the centre, limited as that activity may be, compared with the feverish and far-reaching life of the industrial centres of Europe. Zindu has no other manufacture than that of indigo; nevertheless, its commercial energy is so great that it may justly be termed “the port of the Soudan.”

Here Dr. Barth received the welcome supply of a thousand dollars, which, not to excite suspicion, had been carefully concealed in a couple of sugar barrels. He was enabled, therefore, to purchase the articles necessary for barter or gifts in his expedition to Timbúktu, such as red, white, and yellow burnouses, turbans, cloves, cutlery, beads, and looking-glasses; and on the 30th of January, 1853, he resumed his march.

The country he had to traverse was the scene of incessant warfare between the Fulbi and the independent tribes. At the outset he met with some salt merchants from A’ir, whose picturesque encampments would have delighted an artist’s eye, but did not add to the security of the roads. He arrived in safety, however, on the 5th of February, at Kátséna, and took up his quarters in a residence specially assigned to him. The house was spacious; but so full of ants, that, having rested himself for an hour on a bank of clay, he found that the freebooters had climbed the wall, constructed covered galleries right up to his person, and delivered a combined attack upon his shirt, in which they had eaten large holes.

The governor of Kátséna gave our traveller a courteous reception, and deigned to accept with evident satisfaction the burnouses, cafton, cup, two loaves of sugar, and pistol, which Dr. Barth offered him. The pistol gave him so much pleasure that he asked for a second; and, of course, a refusal was impossible. Thenceforth he ate and drank and walked and slept with his two pistols in his belt, and terrified everybody who approached him by snapping caps in their face. It happened that, at this time, the ghaladima of Sikoto, inspector of Kátséna, was in the town collecting tribute. He was a frank and simple-natured man, neither very generous nor very intelligent, but of benevolent disposition and sociable character. Dr. Barth purchased some silk and cotton stuffs from the looms of Mepè and Kanó, and being very anxious to pursue his journey, waited for the ghaladima to set out, in order to enjoy the advantage of his escort. It was on the 21st of March that this high official, accompanied by our traveller, took his departure. The governor attended them as far as the limits of his jurisdiction, and they had a numerous guard; while, as a further protection against mishaps, they steered to the south, instead of to the west, in which direction war was raging.

It was the happy time of spring; a bloom was on the earth, and a light and perfume in the air; nature put on her greenest attire; the alleluba, the parkia, the cucifera, the bombyx rose in masses of foliage. The country through which the travellers rode was fair and fertile, populous and well cultivated; the pastures echoed with the low of cattle; the fields rejoiced in profuse crops of yams and tobacco. In the district of Maja, cotton, indigo, potatoes were grown on a very large scale. Beyond Kuruyá, a town of 5000 to 6000 souls, the fertility of the land increased, if such increase were possible; the many-rooted banyan, or Indian fig-tree, displayed its colossal splendour: —

“Irregularly spread,Fifty straight columns propped its lofty head;And many a long depending shoot,Seeking to strike its root,Straight, like a plummet, grew towards the ground;Some on the lower boughs, which curved their way,Fixing their bearded fibres, round and round,With many a ring and wild contortion wound;Some to the passing wind, at times, with swayOf gentle motion moving;Others of younger growth, unmoved, were hungLike stone-drops from the cavern’s fretted height.”

Bassiaparkia, sorghum, and millet were abundant. But at Kulfi the travellers reached the limit which divides the Mohammedans from the heathens – civilization (imperfect and undeveloped, if you will, but not wholly without a respect for law and order) and barbarism. As Dr. Barth advanced, he seemed to pass from spring to winter; cultivation disappeared; villages ruined and silent bore witness to the desolating work of war; and it was only by the cattle browsing in the scanty pastures that he knew the land was not entirely deserted. At Zekka, a town of some importance, with wall and ditch, he separated from the ghaladima, and, through a dense forest, pushed forward to the ruins of Moniya. He had intended to halt there, but an armed force had encamped at Moniya on the preceding evening, and he retreated into the shelter of the forest until the morning. A day’s march brought him to Zyrmi, a considerable town, the governor of which was formerly chief of the whole province of Zanfara.

On the 31st of March, he stood on the border of the Gúndúmi Desert, of the passage of which Major Clapperton has left so exciting a narrative. It is passable only by a forced march. Dr. Barth began by striking too far to the south, and lost valuable time in the midst of an impervious jungle. Recovering the direct track, he marched all that day, all that night, without seeing any sign of human life, and until the middle of the following day, when he met some horsemen who had been sent forward to meet him, with vessels of water. Two miles further, and he could see the village where the Emir Aliyú had pitched his camp; he was then at war with the people of Gober. For thirty hours he and his followers had marched without a halt; they were completely spent, and the men, in their absolute weariness, fell prostrate upon the ground. The intrepid Barth rallied his energies; his excitement dispelled the sense of fatigue; and he searched his baggage for some valuable gift to the Emir, who was to depart on the following day, for upon him and his favour the success of his enterprise wholly depended. The day glided by, and he had begun to despair of being admitted to an audience; but in the evening the Emir sent him an ox, four fat sheep, and four hundred parcels of rice, and a message to the effect that he awaited his visit. It must be owned that some of these barbaric potentates do things right royally!

Dr. Barth entered the august presence. The Emir immediately seized him by the hand, made him sit down, and interrupted him when he began to excuse himself for not having visited Sokotó before he went to Kúkáwa. His two requests, for the Emir’s safe-conduct as far as Timbúktu, and a royal letter guaranteeing the lives and property of Englishmen visiting his territories, he received very favourably; affirming that his sole thought was for the welfare of humanity, and, consequently, he desired to promote the friendly intercourse of all nations. Next day Barth had another interview, and offered a second supply of presents. He describes the Emir as a strongly built man, of average stature, with a round, full, but not unpleasant face.

On the 4th of April, with the royal letter, of which he had dictated the terms, and a hundred thousand kurdis which the prince had generously sent to him to defray his expenses during his absence, he took up his residence at Vurno, the Emir’s usual abode. The unsavoury condition of the town, which was traversed by a cloaca more disgusting even than those of Italy, surprised and shocked him. Outside the walls, the Gulbi-n-rima formed several basins of stagnant water in the middle of a plain, where the traveller’s camels sadly pined for pasture. The frontiers of three provinces – Kebbi, Adar, and Gober – meet in this arid plain, which, however, after the rainy season, wears a completely different aspect.

The town became more and more deserted; daily its notables departed to join the Emir; though, as a rule, these warriors cared only for their own pleasure, and would sell their weapons for a dram of kola-nut wine. In no part of Negroland did Dr. Barth see less military ardour or more physical depression. Meanwhile, he amused himself by collecting topographical details, studying the history of the country, and making excursions in the neighbourhood; among others to Sokotó, on the river Bugga. It was not until the 23rd of April that the Emir returned to his capital, after an expedition which, if not glorious, had been at least successful. Always generous towards Dr. Barth, he had invited him to meet him, and king and traveller went together to the palace. On the same day, Barth made him a present of a musical box, which appears to be the prize most eagerly coveted by African potentates. The Emir, in his rapture, summoned his grand vizier to see and hear the marvel; but the mysterious box, affected by the climate and the length of the journey it had undergone, refused to pour forth its melodious treasures. However, after a day or two’s labour, Dr. Barth succeeded in repairing it, and releasing its imprisoned streams of music. Who shall describe the Emir’s excess of joy? He proved the sincerity of his gratitude by immediately giving Dr. Barth a commendatory letter to his nephew, the chief of Gando, and the long-expected permission to depart.

Leaving Vurno on the 8th of May, Dr. Barth reached Gando on the 17th. It was the capital of another Fulbi chief, scarcely less powerful than the Emir, whose protection was of the greatest importance to the traveller, because both banks of the Niger were within his territory. It was not obtained without persevering effort – and many gifts, besides frequent bribes to an Arab consul, who had contrived to make himself indispensable to the feeble prince.

On the 4th of June our indefatigable explorer entered the deep valleys of Kebbi, which, in the rainy season, are converted into extensive rice-fields. At Kombara, the governor hospitably sent him all the constituents of a first-class Soudanian repast, from the sheep to the grains of salt and the Dodua cake. Gaumaché, formerly a thriving town, is now a village of slaves. A similarly fatal change has passed over Yara; formerly rich and industrious, rank weeds now grow in its silent streets. But life and death lie cheek by jowl in these fertile regions; and to the ruined towns and deserted villages immediately succeed prolific rice-fields, shaded by clumps of trees.

The whole country was overshadowed by the thunder-clouds of war; yet the traveller passed continuously through plantations of yams, and cotton, and papyrus, whose fresh green foliage waved above the walls. He halted at Kola, where the governor could dispose of seventy matchlocks and the men who handled them; an important personage in the disturbed condition of the country, whom it was politic to visit. The sister of this lord of warriors presented Dr. Barth with a fine fat goose – an addition to his dietary which rejoiced him greatly. As he approached Jogirma, the three sons of its chief came forth to salute him in their father’s name. It proved to be a much more considerable town than the traveller had expected, and the palace was a spacious and even imposing building, in its architecture recalling the characters of the Gothic style. The population numbered seven to eight thousand souls, whom civil discord had reduced to a pitiful extremity. It was with no little difficulty that Dr. Barth obtained even a supply of millet.

On the 10th he entered a beautiful forest, where the air was heavy with the sweet odours of flowering trees; but the place is noted for its insalubrity. Dr. Barth was compelled to remain there for twenty-four hours, one of his camels having gone astray; and this circumstance appeared so extraordinary, that the neighbouring peasants were in the habit of referring to him as “the man who passed a whole day in the deadly desert.”

On a quadrangular eminence, about thirty feet high, in the valley of Fogha – an eminence built up of refuse – stands a village with some resemblance to the ancient town of Assyria. The inhabitants extract salt from the black mud out of which their little hillock rises. There are other villages of a similar character. The condition of the population is most wretched; they suffer continually from the forays of the robbers of Dendina.

After a march of two or three miles over a rocky soil, sprinkled with bushes and brushwood, Dr. Barth, with intense satisfaction, caught the glimmer of water, as if the sun were lighting up a broad mirror, and rapidly pushing forward, came, in an hour’s time, to Say, a ferry on the great river of the Soudan – the river which has divided with the Nile the curiosity of geographers, and attracted the enterprise of the adventurous; the river which, perhaps, surpasses the Nile in its promise of future commercial industry; the river which we associate with the names of so many heroic travellers, from Mungo Park to Cameron, – the Niger.

III

The Niger – all the various names of which (Joliba, Mayo, Eghirrau, Isa, Kuara, Baki-a-rua) signify one and the same thing, the River– is about seven hundred yards broad at the Say ferry, and flows from north-north-east to south-south-west with a velocity of three miles an hour. The left bank has an elevation of about thirty feet; the right bank is low, and crowned with a town of considerable size. The traffic is incessant; Fulbis and Sourays, with their asses and oxen, continually pass to and fro. The boats in use are constructed of two hollow trunks of trees, fastened together, and measure a length of forty feet and a breadth of four feet and a half. With feelings of a mingled character Dr. Barth crossed this stately river, the exploration of which has necessitated the sacrifice of so many noble lives, and entered the busy town of Say. Its walls form a quadrilateral of fourteen hundred yards; the houses of the inhabitants, all built of reeds except the governor’s, are scattered in groups over the area they enclose. In the rainy season, a hollow or valley, which cuts across it from north to south, is filled with water, which impedes communication, and renders the place insalubrious. When the river is flooded, the town is entirely inundated, and all its inhabitants are compelled to migrate. The market of Say is not well provided: the supply of grain is small, of onions nil, of rice nil, though the soil is well adapted to their cultivation; of cotton, however, there is always a large quantity; and Say will prove an important position for Europeans as soon as the great river route of Western Africa begins to be utilized.