CHAPTER XVI.

WE ARRIVE AT THE BASé OR KUNAMA COUNTRY—THE VILLAGE OF SARCELLA—MURDER OF MR. POWELL AND PARTY—MY CAMEL AND I UNCEREMONIOUSLY PART COMPANY—THE FIRST BASé WE SEE—ENCAMP AT KOOLOOKOO—OUR FIRST INTERVIEW WITH BASé—THEY MAKE “AMAN” WITH US—THEIR APPEARANCE—DESCRIPTION OF KOOLOOKOO AND THE BASé PEOPLE—THEIR HABITS AND CUSTOMS.

From January 26th to 28th nothing of importance took place. A day seldom passed without nellut, tetél, and gazelle falling to someone’s rifle. We were all busy during leisure hours in writing letters for England, as we should not be able to do so or receive any again until our return from the Basé country to Herr Schumann’s zareeba, where Mr. James had arranged all letters and papers from Kassala were to be brought. We often saw baboons[185] gambolling about, also tracks of elephants, lions, and panthers. The Shiek says we are now in the neighbourhood of giraffes, ostriches, and buffalos. This day he leaves us to fight or come to terms with the Basé, and graciously condescends to act as our postman as far as Heikota, promising to see that our letters are forwarded from there to Kassala. He tells us that his men are at Sarcella, where they have about 1,000 of the offending Basé shut up in a cave; they were now waiting for him ere they took any further action. What transpired we did not learn until we returned to Heikota. That I will describe when we return there.

January 29th.—We are now in Basé territory. We have for days past done with caravan routes or paths, and travel over rocky mountains, large plains, jungle, river-beds, and through a forest of tamarind, tamarisk, palm, baobob, nebbuck, hegleek, and mimosa trees. On the branches of the latter we frequently saw lumps of gum arabic, as large as walnuts, which had exuded through the bark.

At 4 p.m. we saw a Basé village on fire, and rightly surmised, as we found out afterwards, that the Beni-Amirs had been the authors of this. Just after breakfast, before the camels were brought, we shot eight partridges and ten quail, which were handed over to the cook. Some were prepared for[186] dinner, and some for luncheon next day. We also shot on the march a buck tetél; the prime bit was, of course, reserved for our dinner, and was more like roast beef than the flesh of any other animal I tasted; the rest was given to our attendants. We encamped by the side of the river-bed, where we found water on digging to the depth of 7 or 8 feet. Ere we could encamp we had to set to with axes and clear away a number of young palms and mimosa bushes, make a zareeba, and before retiring for the night look to our rifles and revolvers and see that we had plenty of cartridges ready in case of emergency, as we flattered ourselves that we were like the Bristol, Sheffield, or any other boys in England who slept with one eye open. At all events we had heard sufficient of this country to know that it would be unwise for us to be caught napping, especially as we noticed some of the natives spying about soon after we had pitched our tents. About mid-day we sighted the village of Sarcella, the inhabitants of which Sheik Ahmed had gone to interview, and whom Suleiman designated as “a very bad peoples.” There is very little doubt that Suleiman was right, if all we heard about them was true, for in 1869 or ’70—I am not sure which—Mr. Powell, wife, little boy, and all the Europeans were spitted on their long spears. They now lie buried in[187] Bassaleg churchyard, near Newport, having been brought home by his brother, Mr. Powell, M.P., who fearfully avenged his brother’s death. Whilst I was in the Soudan I saw by a newspaper which we got, that this gentleman lost his life in a balloon.

January 30th.—Made a short march to-day, namely, from 10.30 a.m. until 4.30 p.m., encamping at a place called Wo-amma, playfully christened and ever afterwards known as “Whoa Emma.” The country was to-day very mountainous and difficult for the caravan, to say nothing of ourselves. I distinctly recollect that on this very day, whilst travelling along a plane, one of the horse-boys came trotting quickly along, causing my camel not only to shy, but to bolt when I was quite unprepared for any such contretemps. A spectator would, doubtless, have been much amused. I was not. For the space of about 20 yards I bounded like an india-rubber ball on the makloufa; then came suddenly to grief from my lofty elevation, the distance from the camel’s hump to his feet being considerable. I fell with a regular bang on to my hip, which felt very painful for some days afterwards, and had the mortification to see my belongings gradually parting company with the camel—my rug, then my satchel, a basket, zanzimeer, &c. The camel was caught[188] after some trouble, whilst I and they were gradually picked up, I with rage in my heart, for this camel, being a bolter, had served me several scurvy tricks before; for instance, if we came to any little declivity, the beast would persist in making a trot of it, greatly exciting my apprehensions. Again, when we came to a narrow pathway I would duck my head where there were overhanging boughs of prickly shrubs; he, thinking I was going to thrash him, would at once bolt, and when he had rushed through I should find my head and hands were like a pincushion. I could then knock my helmet out of the trees and at my leisure pick out the horrid thorns with which my head and hands abounded. Once I was nearly swept off the wretched beast as he bolted in this way. A strong chain of cactus was across our way, catching me in the middle. I saw the danger in time, and clutched hold of the makloufa with all my might, on I might have been found suspended amongst the trees. It broke, fortunately, and I escaped, but I never shall forget how angry that camel frequently made me, what self-restraint I was obliged to exercise, for if I chastised him he would bellow and bolt again, to my great danger and annoyance. I had in England extracted many human teeth in my time, but this day I extracted an elephant’s tooth, and brought it home[189] as a curiosity. However, I think I ought to say the elephant was not alive, and that on the march we passed the skeletons of two others, which, I have no doubt, furnished some excellent repasts for the natives. These were not all we passed calling for notice, for some of our men came upon two of the Basé people; the first sample of these curiosities we had seen. One was in a baobob tree gathering the pods and throwing them down to the other, who was collecting them in a basket. These so-called ferocious savages appeared terribly alarmed when our men came upon them. The one on terra firma, with the true instinct that “self-preservation is the first law of nature,” bolted like a shot, but our men captured him. The other was afraid to come down until one of the English servants discharged the contents of one barrel of his rifle, and let him know by the aid of Beyrumfi, our interpreter, that the contents of the other would be lodged in his frail tenement of clay unless he was more sociable. This persuasive kind of argument appeared very effective, for down he came, and I am sure both he and his companion, who, doubtless, were accustomed to be hunted like wild beasts, were agreeably surprised when they each received a pocket-knife and a bit of bread and meat. Remembering the injunctions of Sheik[190] Ahmed, and with Powell on the brain, we took precautions against surprises—set to work and made a zareeba round the camp, lighted camp fires, and looked well to rifles and revolvers. The latter we kept under our pillows; the former at the heads of our beds, ready at a moment’s notice. Sentries were posted, and occasionally relieved, whilst one of us (whoever chanced to awake) went round to see that they were doing their duty. The man who was not, felt unhappy next morning, as he received an intimation from the coorbatch before breakfast that there had been a certain dereliction of duty on his part.

January 31st.—We marched eight hours to-day, encamping at Fodie on the dry river-bed, close to some wells. This was a very fatiguing march for the caravan, on account of our luggage, which was much obstructed by trees. We travelled through quite a forest of these. Where there were no trees the grass had been burnt for miles round. Many quail and sand-grouse were shot to-day.

February 1st.—After a short march of four hours only, we encamped on the broad, sandy river-bed of the Mareb, very near to the village of Koolookoo, which we could see high up amongst the rocks of a mountain on the opposite side. Each side of the Mareb was plentifully lined with overhanging trees[191] of all kinds, and amongst the twigs of some could be seen many hundreds of the beautifully constructed nests of the weaver-bird. Not very far from the Mareb, at the base of the mountain, in which these Basé at Koolookoo lived, were the remains of a mud house in which Mr. Powell had once lived. This was, I believe, as far, or nearly so, as he had penetrated.

The Kunama, or Basé country, is quite a terra incognita, and, as far as we could ascertain, we are the first and only Europeans who have explored that country at all. This being so, I shall expend a good deal of time in saying all I can about this country and people. We shall have to thank Messrs. W. D. James and Percy Aylmer for a map of that country, and also for some photographs of the people and scenery, which will be found in Mr. F. L. James’s book. This book I have not yet read, and shall not do so until my own is in the publisher’s hands, for fear I may unwittingly adopt any of his theories or expressions, but rather prefer to be perfectly independent of it, and give my own ideas and description in my own way, be they good, bad, or indifferent. No two men agree on any subject, and it is very probable that Mr. F. L. James and I may materially differ on many. So that I shall not be termed a copyist, I shall neither reproduce the map or photographs,[192] but trust to sketches taken to the best of my poor ability, but which, I hope, will convey a pretty good idea of the kind of place and people that we sojourned amongst for a while. Very well, then, after this exordium—probably the longest I shall make—I will continue my narrative, as the dog would say of his caudal appendage.

This was the first Basé village we had come to, and ere we could go any further it was necessary that we should interview the Shiek of this village, and explain the object of our visit. We made an ostentatious display of our rifles and guns, twenty-four in number, and placed them against the bank ready for immediate use if necessary, whilst each of us sported a six-chambered revolver in our waist-belts. When we had—as we thought—taken sufficient precautions against surprises or treachery, we were curious to see these much-dreaded savages, whom report said were capable of any sanguinary deed (could, in fact, murder with a smiling face), and although their neighbours lived on their borders, they appeared to know little more about them than we did ourselves. Whilst we lunched within easy reach of our rifles, we sent forth one Beyrumfi, “our guide, philosopher, and friend” (and the only man who knew anything of the language) to the village. When we had finished our luncheon, we got our field-glasses,[193] and on the very summit of the rocky mountain we saw all the women and children, and a few of the men, looking down on us. Half an hour afterwards, winding round by a circuitous pathway, on sloping ground, and occasionally hidden by trees, we could now see Beyrumfi, accompanied by seven or eight of the Basé, each carrying his spear and shield. When they appeared on the edge of the river-bed in single file, headed by Beyrumfi, the Sheik’s son (a fine, strapping, well-made fellow, who took his father’s place during his absence) dropped his shield, and, without stopping, drove his spear quivering into the sand; his example was followed by all the others. They all marched briskly across the river-bed, whilst we, in our English fashion, stood up and shook hands all round, which, under such circumstances, was much more agreeable than kissing all round. Sheik junior, if I may call him so, was about 5ft. 10in. in height, as straight as a dart, and not by any means over-dressed, for he wore nothing but a bit of soft leather, very much the shape and size of a man’s bathing drawers. He got the twig of a tree and broke it with us as a sign of friendship. All then squatted round on their haunches, with their knees under their chins (their customary mode of resting themselves), and Beyrumfi explained the object of our visit. This was satisfactory. The Sheik then[194] borrowed a two-edged sword from Beyrumfi, placed it on the ground with the point directed towards us, put his naked foot on it, and delivered a short harangue, the purport of which was that we were in his country now, and as long as we remained neither he nor his people would harm, but do all they could to assist us, and that we were now his brothers. However, he could really only speak for his village. This is what is called making “Aman”—that is, swearing peace and friendship, and that we will trust one another; but we didn’t. On hospitable thoughts intent, we ordered a large bowl of cooked meat; our new acquaintances soon squatted round, and judging from the rapid disappearance of the food, I should imagine that a larger bowl would have done very well. We gave each of these fellows small presents, amongst other things an empty claret bottle each, which was much prized, but to the Sheik’s son we gave a few extra things, such as a tope or loin-cloth, a razor, a knife in sheath, needles, pins and thread, a velvet necklet, and a waistcoat striped yellow and black. He at once invested himself with the order of the tope and yellow and black waistcoat, to the great admiration of his friends, who continually made a clucking noise with the mouth, just as we do to urge on a horse; from their point of view it meant how wonderful, how nice, and what[195] a swell you are. The claret-coloured lead-capping of bottles, which had been thrown on the ground, they gathered up, using them to decorate their hair with, or as an addition to their necklaces. Our rifles and guns were still leaning against the bank, just to show how well armed we were. Now, finding the natives were so friendly, and that they had left their spears on the other side of the river-bed, we ordered our rifles to be taken into our tents; still, however, retaining our revolvers. Of course a long pow-wow ensued. Whilst this was going on the women and children were not idle in the village, for they stood out on various places of vantage, looking down on their braves. We lent the Basé field-glasses to look at them, and it was most amusing to hear their expressions of surprise, with any amount of the clucking accompaniment, as they saw how near the glass brought their friends to view. After a while they returned to their village, upon which several of their friends, finding not only that we appeared reasonable beings, but that we had given several presents, paid us a visit, no doubt hoping that we would serve them in the same way. Of course the wonderful Ingelese exhibited to all these visitors their rifles and revolvers, accompanied by an elaborate explanation of their killing powers. Beyrumfi explained all this amidst a shower of cluckings. We had been[196] told by Sheik Ahmed that the Basé were no better than beasts, that they lived in holes in the ground and in caves; we resolved to see for ourselves, and so told the Sheik that we would pay him a visit on the morrow, which we did. They don’t absolutely live in holes in the ground like rabbits, but where the rocks lean against one another, or project out, forming an awning, they utilize these accidents to convert such a place into a dwelling; they also have many well-made huts. In these particulars they differ from wild beasts, but I think in most other particulars they very much resemble them. As for their being the ferocious savages represented to us, I must say that they appeared more afraid of us than we were of them. I formed an idea that they had a cowed, hunted look, and well they may have, as the Egyptians squeeze all they can out of them on one side, and the Abyssinians on the other, and the reason they live in such places amongst rocks difficult of access is that if attacked, they can roll these rocks down on their assailants. The attire of both men and women is extremely simple and scanty. The women wear a short skirt reaching from the waist to the knees, most of them a large ring in one nostril. Many of them are not bad looking; their black hair is not profuse, but inclined to be frizzly; this is plaited down, whilst bits of metal,[197] brass rings or beads, are frequently interlaced. All have lovely teeth. In stature they are rather short and when young possess rather graceful, well-formed figures. Either beads, metal, or some other ornament surrounds the neck, the arm, just above the elbow, the wrists and ankles. Very many, both men and women (the Arabs as well), have the scars of burns about the size of a shilling. I do not know whether it is so in all cases, but in very many, if they are in pain in any part of the body, they apply a hot iron button (technically known as the actual cautery). A very common custom is to decorate the chest, abdomen, and back (sometimes one of these, sometimes all of them) with a series of little cuts, into which a dye called kohl is rubbed in. Kohl is also, much used by the Basé to stain their eyelids all round, which produces a bluish-black stain. Whilst speaking of this dye, I may say that it is supposed this was the very thing which Jezebel used to improve her personal appearance. The difference between the Basé men and women in the matter of dress and ornaments is that the men, instead of a short tope or skirt, wear a bit of thin leather round their loins (like a rather scant pair of bathing drawers), and a scratcher in their hair. I saw some moderately big boys attired in the most inexpensive suit conceivable; namely, an anklet and bracelet of[198] metal, and a bit of a porcupine’s quill in the left nostril.

Speaking generally, the men are well-formed, agile-looking fellows. These Basé people are quite hemmed in in their small country, on the one hand by the Abyssinians and on the other sides by different tribes of Arabs, with whom they appear to have little or no communication or dealings, and if they venture out of their own country they are hunted down by the Arabs just like wild animals. The Arabs of the Soudan are darker than the Abyssinians, but the Basé are much darker than the Arabs and speak a different language. The Basé are quite a different race to their neighbours, and more nearly approach the negro type. They are blacker than the Arabs, but not the coal-black of the negro; their hair is shorter, more crisp and woolly, than the Arabs, but not the absolute wool of the negro. The Arabs have good regular features, lips and noses like our own; the Basé are the contrary, and more resemble the negro in this respect and their high cheek-bones, but they are not nearly so pronounced as the negro. Their foreheads, as a rule, are rather narrow and receding. I was obliged perforce to depend on Sheik Ahmed, and more particularly on Beyrumfi, for all the information I could glean respecting these people. They say they have no religion. Sheik[199] Ahmed, speaking very contemptuously of them, says “that they have a rain-maker who promises rain, when it is pretty sure to come; but if he makes several promises and the rain does not come, he goes”—to that bourne from whence no traveller shall return. In the little matter of marriage, their laws and ceremonies are extremely simple, for they marry their sisters, their daughters, their cousins, and their aunts, possibly their mothers and grandmothers. Courtship is brief and primitive. A Basé man fancies a Basé girl (presumably not his own daughter); he tells the nearest male relatives so, father or brother—good; he then presents him with a few yards of calico or some skins, the same also to his bride, and she becomes his.

Now with regard to their diet. I cannot help thinking that this admits of considerable improvement. As they are not possessed of large flocks and herds like their neighbours, the Beni-Amirs, they have not much milk or meat, neither have they so much dhurra as an article of diet. They obtain meat occasionally when they can ensnare an animal; the kind of meat is rather a secondary consideration for they will eat the meat of lion, panther, elephant monkeys, lizards, or giraffes with as much gusto as that of antelope or buffalo. They are not so particular, either, as they ought to be, for they consume all[200] except the skin and bones. They also eat the roots of young palm trees, the outer covering of the dhoum palm nut, nebbuck, and hegleek nuts, the fruit of the baobob, wild honey, and a certain, or rather an uncertain, quantity of milk and dhurra. They do not indulge in baked baby, and I am quite sure that their carnal longings are never satiated with cold or roast missionary, as there are no missionaries there, but it has occurred to me that this place is virgin soil for missionary enterprise, as there does not appear to be any religion that requires eradicating from their minds.

In the evening of the 2nd February a dirty-looking old fellow (a sheik from Aidaro), paid us a visit, bringing with him a gourd of wild honey as a peace offering, made “aman” with us, and of course received his presents.

I was much struck when visiting the village with their beautifully made baskets; so closely woven are they as to enable them to carry milk or water in them without a drop oozing through.