The Mammoth Book of Travel in Dangerous Places (33 page)

It was ten o’clock when our cavalcade at length put itself in motion, ascending the sandhills which rise close behind the village of Kábara, and which, to my great regret, had
prevented my obtaining a view of the town from the top of our terrace. The contrast of this desolate scenery with the character of the fertile banks of the river which I had just left behind was
remarkable. The whole tract bore decidedly the character of a desert, although the path was thickly lined on both sides with thorny bushes and stunted trees, which were being cleared away in some
places in order to render the path less obstructed and more safe, as the Tawárek never fail to infest it, and at present were particularly dreaded on account of their having killed a few
days previously three petty Tawáti traders on their way to A’rawáin. It is from the unsafe character of this short road between the harbour and the town, that the spot, about
halfway between Kábara and Timbúktu, bears the remarkable name of “Ur-immándes”, “he does not hear”, meaning the place where the cry of the unfortunate
victim is not heard from either side.

Having traversed two sunken spots designated by especial names, where, in certain years when the river rises to an unusual height, as happened in the course of the same winter, the water of the
inundation enters and occasionally forms even a navigable channel; and leaving on one side the talha tree of the Welí Sálah, covered with innumerable rags of the superstitious
natives, who expect to be generously rewarded by their saint with a new shirt, we approached the town: but its dark masses of clay not being illuminated by bright sunshine, for the sky was thickly
overcast and the atmosphere filled with sand, were scarcely to be distinguished from the sand and rubbish heaped all round; and there was no opportunity for looking attentively about, as a body of
people were coming towards us in order to pay their compliments to the stranger and bid him welcome. This was a very important moment, as, if they had felt the slightest suspicion with regard to my
character, they might easily have prevented my entering the town at all, and thus even endangered my life.

I therefore took the hint of A’lawáte, who recommended me to make a start in advance in order to anticipate the salute of these people who had come to meet us; and putting my horse
to a gallop, and gun in hand, I galloped up to meet them, when I was received with many saláms. But a circumstance occurred which might have proved fatal, not only to my enterprise, but even
to my own personal safety, as there was a man among the group who addressed me in Turkish, which I had almost entirely forgotten; so that I could with difficulty make a suitable answer to his
compliment; but avoiding farther indiscreet questions, I pushed on in order to get under safe cover.

Having then traversed the rubbish which has accumulated round the ruined clay wall of the town, and left on one side a row of dirty reed huts which encompass the whole of the place, we entered
the narrow streets and lanes, or, as the people of Timbúktu say, the tijeráten, which scarcely allowed two horses to proceed abreast. But I was not a little surprised at the populous
and wealthy character which this quarter of the town, the Sáne-Gúngu, exhibited, many of the houses rising to the height of two stories, and in their façade evincing even an
attempt at architectural adornment. Thus, taking a more westerly turn, and followed by a numerous troop of people, we passed the house of the Sheikh El Bakáy, where I was desired to fire a
pistol; but as I had all my arms loaded with ball I prudently declined to do so, and left it to one of my people to do honour to the house of our host. We thus reached the house on the other side
of the street, which was destined for my residence, and I was glad when I found myself safely in my new quarters.

It had been arranged that, during the absence of the Sheikh el Bakáy, whose special guest I professed to be, my house should be locked up and no one allowed to pay me a
visit. However, while my luggage was being got in, numbers of people gained access to the house, and came to pay me their compliments, and while they scrutinised my luggage, part of which had
rather a foreign appearance, some of them entertained a doubt as to my nationality. But of course it could never have been my intention to have impressed these people with the belief of my being a
Mohammedan; for having been known as a Christian all along my road as far as Libtáko, with which province the Arabs of A’zawád keep up a continual intercourse, although there
the people would scarcely believe that I was a European, the news of my real character could not fail soon to transpire; and it was rather a fortunate circumstance that, notwithstanding our
extremely slow progress, and our roundabout direction, the news had not anticipated us. I had been obliged to adopt the character of a Mohammedan, in order to traverse with some degree of safety
the country of the Tawárek, and to enter the town of Timbúktu, which was in the hands of the fanatical Fúlbe of Hamda-Alláhi, while I had not yet obtained the protection
of the chief whose name and character alone had inspired me with sufficient confidence to enter upon this enterprise.

Barth’s arrival at Timbuktu. Drawing by J. M. Bernatz, from a sketch by Dr. Barth. From
Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa
, London, 1858.

Thus I had now reached the object of my arduous undertaking; but it was apparent from the very first, that I should not enjoy the triumph of having overcome the difficulties of the journey in
quiet and repose. The continuous excitement of the protracted struggle, and the uncertainty whether I should succeed in my undertaking, had sustained my weakened frame till I actually reached this
city; but as soon as I was there, and almost at the very moment when I entered my house, I was seized with a severe attack of fever. Yet never were presence of mind and bodily energy more required;
for the first night which I passed in Timbúktu was disturbed by feelings of alarm and serious anxiety.

MY OGOWE FANS

Mary Kingsley

(1862–1900)

Self-educated while she nursed her elderly parents, Mary Kingsley had known only middle-class English domesticity until venturing to West Africa in 1892. Her parents had
died and, unmarried, she determined to study “fish and fetish” for the British Museum. Her 1894 ascent of Gabon’s Ogowe river (from
Travels in West Africa,
1897)
established her as a genuine pioneer and an inimitable narrator. She died six years later while nursing prisoners during the Boer War.

A
certain sort of friendship soon arose between the Fans and me. We each recognised that we belonged to that same section of the human race with
whom it is better to drink than to fight. We knew we would each have killed the other, if sufficient inducement were offered, and so we took a certain amount of care that the inducement should not
arise. Gray Shirt and Pagan also, their trade friends, the Fans treated with an independent sort of courtesy; but Silence, Singlet, the Passenger, and above all Ngouta, they openly did not care a
row of pins for, and I have small doubt that had it not been for us other three they would have killed and eaten these very amiable gentlemen with as much compunction as an English sportsman would
kill as many rabbits. They on their part hated the Fan, and never lost an opportunity of telling me “these Fan be bad man too much.” I must not forget to mention the other member of our
party, a Fan gentleman with the manners of a duke and the habits of a dustbin. He came with us, quite uninvited by me, and never asked for any pay; I think he only wanted to see the fun, and drop
in for a fight if there was one going on, and to pick up the pieces generally. He was evidently a man of some importance, from the way the others treated him; and moreover he had a splendid gun,
with a gorilla skin sheath for its lock, and ornamented all over its stock with brass nails. His costume consisted of a small piece of dirty rag round his loins; and whenever we were going through
dense undergrowth, or wading a swamp, he wore that filament tucked up scandalously short. Whenever we were sitting down in the forest having one of our nondescript meals, he always sat next to me
and appropriated the tin. Then he would fill his pipe, and turning to me with the easy grace of aristocracy, would say what may be translated as “My dear Princess, could you favour me with a
lucifer?”

I used to say, “My dear Duke, charmed, I’m sure,” and give him one ready lit.

I dared not trust him with the box whole, having a personal conviction that he would have kept it. I asked him what he would do suppose I was not there with a box of lucifers; and he produced a
bush-cow’s horn with a neat wood lid tied on with tie tie, and from out of it he produced a flint and steel and demonstrated. Unfortunately all his grace’s minor possessions, owing to
the scantiness of his attire, were in one and the same pine-apple-fibre bag which he wore slung across his shoulder; and these possessions, though not great, were as dangerous to the body as a
million sterling is said to be to the soul, for they consisted largely of gunpowder and snuff, and their separate receptacles leaked and their contents commingled, so that demonstration on
fire-making methods among the Fan ended in an awful bang and blow-up in a small way, and the Professor and his pupil sneezed like fury for ten minutes, and a cruel world laughed till it nearly
died, for twenty. Still that bag with all its failings was a wonder for its containing power.

The first day in the forest we came across a snake – a beauty with a new red-brown and yellow-patterned velvety skin, about three feet six inches long and as thick as a man’s thigh.
Ngouta met it, hanging from a bough, and shot backwards like a lobster, Ngouta having among his many weaknesses a rooted horror of snakes. This snake the Ogowé natives all hold in great
aversion. For the bite of other sorts of snakes they profess to have remedies, but for this they have none. If, however, a native is stung by one he usually conceals the fact that it was this
particular kind, and tries to get any chance the native doctor’s medicine may give. The Duke stepped forward and with one blow flattened its head against the tree with his gun butt, and then
folded the snake up and got as much of it as possible into the bag, while the rest hung dangling out. Ngouta, not being able to keep ahead of the Duke, his Grace’s pace being stiff, went to
the extreme rear of the party, so that other people might be killed first if the snake returned to life, as he surmised it would. He fell into other dangers from this caution, but I cannot
chronicle Ngouta’s afflictions in full without running this book into an old-fashioned folio size. We had the snake for supper, that is to say the Fan and I; the others would not touch it,
although a good snake, properly cooked, is one of the best meats one gets out here, far and away better than the African fowl.

The Fans also did their best to educate me in every way: they told me their names for things, while I told them mine, throwing in besides as “a dash for top” a few colloquial phrases
such as: “Dear me, now,” “Who’d have thought it,” “Stuff, my dear sir,” and so on; and when I left them they had run each together as it were into one
word, and a nice savage sound they had with them too, especially “dearmenow,” so I must warn any philologist who visits the Fans, to beware of regarding any word beyond two syllables in
length as being of native origin. I found several European words already slightly altered in use among them, such as “Amuck” – a mug, “Alas” – a glass, a
tumbler. I do not know whether their “Ami” – a person addressed, or spoken of – is French or not. It may come from “Anwe” – M’pongwe for
“Ye,” “You.” They use it as a rule in addressing a person after the phrase they always open up conversation with, “Azuna” – Listen, or I am speaking.

They also showed me many things: how to light a fire from the pith of a certain tree, which was useful to me in after life, but they rather overdid this branch of instruction one way and
another; for example, Wiki had, as above indicated, a mania for bush-ropes and a marvellous eye and knowledge of them; he would pick out from among the thousands surrounding us now one of such
peculiar suppleness that you could wind it round anything, like a strip of cloth, and as strong withal as a hawser; or again another which has a certain stiffness, combined with a slight elastic
spring, excellent for hauling, with the ease and accuracy of a lady who picks out the particular twisted strand of embroidery silk from a multi-coloured tangled ball. He would go into the bush
after them while other people were resting, and particularly after the sort which, when split is bright yellow, and very supple and excellent to tie round loads.

On one occasion, between Egaja and Esoon, he came back from one of these quests and wanted me to come and see something, very quietly; I went, and we crept down into a rocky ravine, on the other
side of which lay one of the outermost Egaja plantations. When we got to the edge of the cleared ground, we lay down, and wormed our way, with elaborate caution, among a patch of Koko; Wiki first,
I following in his trail.