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CELEBRATING IT ALL
THE PUNISHMENT PIT ~ BOOK EIGHT
LIVIA GRANT
©2021 by Livia Grant
All rights reserved.
Celebrating it All
Punishment Pit Series - Book Eight
by Livia Grant
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
“T iffany, come on! The car is here. We are gonna miss our
flight!”
Dammit. She knew she should have finished packing before the
wedding. This was her own fault. She’d been in such a hurry to head
to the Four Seasons for the wedding, that making sure she was
ready to fly to Hawaii for the honeymoon had seemed low on the
priority list.
Tiff was just cramming a final sun dress into her already over-
stuffed luggage when she was grabbed from behind and yanked
back into the muscular chest of her husband.
His lips were on her ear as he growled, “Mrs. Mitchell… you’re
making us late. You remember what happens when you’re tardy?”
They were standing in the middle of their mammoth walk-in
closet. She glanced up to admire the picture they made in the full-
length mirror directly in front of them.
God, how the hell did I get so lucky to find this man?
It wasn’t the first time she’d asked herself that question, and it
wouldn’t be the last.
“I’m almost ready. I was worried I hadn’t brought enough
dresses.”
Lukus grinned, lighting up his face with the sexiest of smiles. “If
you brought one, it’s too many. I plan on us being naked and in bed
the whole time.” His grinding hips pressing his semi-hard cock into
her ass told her he may not have been exaggerating.
“If all we’re gonna do is stay in our room, we should just stay
home and save the money,” she observed.
Luckily, he chuckled. “Fine. I might be persuaded to leave the
room a time or two. At least the weather is gonna be better there.
Getting out of Chicago for two weeks in January is never a bad
idea.”
Dreaming about the warm beaches and luxurious swimming
pools reminded Tiffany. “That’s right. I wanted to grab my old
bathing suit to take, too. I want a few choices.” She wiggled in his
arms, attempting to extricate herself to find her old suit, but Lukus
only squeezed her tighter. “I thought we were late?” she teased.
Lukus’s right hand had migrated up to squeeze her boob, while
his left moved lower to cup her pussy through the jeans she was
wearing on the flight. “I just realized how many hours it’s gonna be
before we get to our next hotel. Maybe we should fit a quickie in,”
he mumbled, his lips nibbling at the crook of her neck.
“You have to be kidding me. We got married less than twenty-
four hours ago and we’ve already done it twice.”
Lukus froze, looking up from her neck so their eyes met in the
mirror in front of them. “You better get used to the idea that I’m
taking this honeymoon thing very seriously. I won’t consider myself
successful unless you come home walking funny from all the sex
marathons we’re gonna have in the next two weeks.”
Tiffany’s core spasmed at the X-rated heat in her new husband’s
eyes. The anxiety she’d been feeling from rushing to pack started to
fall away as his fingers deftly unbuttoned her jeans just as his other
hand snaked up under her loose-fitting blouse, roughly pushing her
bra up and over her breasts, freeing them to his touch.
“So far, we’ve made love once in the hotel bed, like vanillas.
Then, we had our fun in the shower this morning.” His left hand slid
down her tummy, into her pants.
Their eyes bore into each other in their reflection as his fingers
slid through her wet folds, roughly stroking her clit before plunging
two fingers into her core. It was getting harder to stand as the
pleasure washed over her.
“I see you’re ready for us to cross the next challenge off our list.
The quickie.”
She couldn’t help it. She caught the giggles. “Since when is a
quickie a challenge for us? We’ve had dozens since I met you!”
Sensing his renewed urgency, he was pushing her jeans down
her legs as he answered. “Maybe, but those were dating quickies.
This will be our first married quickie.”
Done talking, Lukus pulled them towards the tall island in the
center of the closet. Pushing the open suitcase aside, the countertop
was the perfect height to press Tiffany’s top half across as he pulled
at her hips, positioning her bottom where he wanted her.
The ding of a text message on Lukus’s phone reminded them
both that they had a car and driver waiting for them down in the
alley, ready to drive them to O’Hare.
“Hold on, baby. This is gonna be a rough ride.”
She barely had a second to feel the tip of his shaft sliding
through her folds when he thrust forward, knocking the wind out of
her as his cock bottomed out in one plunge. Their joint grunts
echoed in the enclosed space as Tiffany opened her eyes to admire
the sight in the side mirror. She had a front-row seat to the
magnificent sight of the man she loved, fucking her with complete
abandon. His hands gripped her hips, helping to yank her back
against him with each stab of his hard erection.
“Yes! Holy shit, I’m gonna come already!” she cried out.
His “Good girl” tipped her over the edge. In her compromised
state, she couldn’t decide if she loved being his good girl or his
naughty girl more. Each came with their own set of advantages.
Lukus was a piston, riding her hard and fast for several long
moments until she felt another orgasm building. His breath was
getting ragged and she could see his locked jaw in the mirror as he
fucked her like the sex-god he was.
Tiff could always tell when he was getting close to coming—his
thrusts became more erratic. She was in a race to come one more
time before he finished. Sensing she needed a bit of help, Lukus
used the grip on her hips to lift her lower body off the ground
completely, positioning her high enough to change the angle of his
continued hammering just enough that the tip of his rod now
pounded directly onto her G-spot.
Her orgasm hit her like a truck and she rewarded her new
husband with her patented sexy rant she knew he loved so much.
“Fuuuccckkk… yeah… Lukus, that’s it… harder… faster… shit….”
Lukus finally bellowed out his own orgasm, arching his back as
he deposited his load of hot spunk deep inside her.
Collapsing on top of her bent body, the couple took a few
moments to replenish their oxygen levels with their heavy panting.
“Holy shit, that was amazing,” he finally said when he’d
recovered enough to speak, nuzzling her intimately through her long
hair.
Tiffany chuckled, “And just think—we haven’t even left for the
honeymoon yet.”
Remembering they were late, Lukus stood, removing his
softening cock from her body. She could already feel the wetness
dribbling out of her, down her inner thigh.
“I need to go clean up before we leave,” she said. But as she
stood, he was already leaning down to pull up her panties and jeans.
Confused, she tried to push his hands away.
“I’ve decided I kinda like you smelling like me. Pull your pants
up. Let’s go.”
“Lukus! I am not going on the plane smelling like a walking orgy.”
He spun her around, yanking her into his waiting arms, clamping
his finger onto the back of her neck to make sure he had her
attention.
“Your Dom wants to smell his sub. More importantly, I want my
cum seeping out into your panties, reminding you the whole trip that
there will be a lot more wet panties in your future. Now… I’m taking
the big suitcase. Grab your carryon and any last-minute things you
need while I make sure everything is ready for us to leave. I’ll meet
you at the elevator in exactly two minutes. You’re already going to
be sitting in wet panties on the plane. I’d hate to have to add a hot
butt to the long trip, too.”
His lust-filled gaze called him a liar. He’d love nothing more than
to spank her ass good before they left.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’d love it too.
Too bad they were running so late.
Tiffany
“O kay, I’m really trying to go with the flow here, but why are
we leaving the gate area? Do we need to go to another
terminal to catch our connecting flight to Hawaii?” She hated not
knowing what time her next flight was, or which airline, or gate…
She hated traveling blind.
The quick pop of her husband’s palm on her ass reminded her
that she wasn’t supposed to be worrying about such mundane
details.
“I can’t believe you did that in public,” she shout-whispered to be
heard over the announcements in the security area.
“Yeah well, keep testing me and you’re really gonna hate when I
sit down and pull you over my lap to make my point.”
Her heart lurched. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Lukus pulled her to a halt, forcing the people walking behind
them to detour around as they held up the crowd. He pulled her
close, the sexiest of grins on his face. “Oh baby, nothing would make
me happier. You forget, I’m a showman. I’d absolutely love to
demonstrate to the whole terminal how things work inside our
marriage.”
Just her luck, a family with young children walked by. “There are
kids present. Playing our kinky games at The Pit is one thing. In
public where there are families… and vanillas…”
They were in a visual showdown. Lukus arched one eyebrow, his
silent question, are you doubting me? Did she dare? It had been
months since he’d tried to push her farther than she was
comfortable going, yet in that moment, she was reminded that they
had known each other less than a year and were still testing the
boundaries to their kinky relationship.
“Red.” Her voice was steady.
“Good girl.” Lukus grinned, grabbing her hand as he started
pulling her back into the flow of the crowd headed towards a double
door marked with a huge sign reading, Final Exit: Re-Entry Through
Security.
Tiffany had to almost jog to keep up with her husband’s long
strides as she pressed him for more answers. “Wait a minute. You
mean you were testing me?” she complained, trying to stay calm as
she worried they were possibly going to miss their next flight if they
had to wait in another long security line.
“Testing is too strong a word. More like giving you options. And
anyway, I’ve managed to plan a few surprises for our honeymoon.
You’re about to get your first one.”
“Yeah, well a spanking in public isn’t exactly my idea of a happy
reward.”
Ignoring her comment, Lukus continued leading her along with
the flow of the travelers down a windowless corridor and into the
open baggage area. Only when he stopped to check the overhead
monitor for their flight information did it dawn on Tiffany what was
truly happening.
“We aren’t going to Hawaii?” Her disappointment was palpable.
After checking the overhead signs, her hubby turned them to the
right part of the huge arrival hall, finally pulling them to a stop next
to carousel number eight. Only after setting their carry-on bags on
the floor next to them did Lukus pull her into his arms.
Tiffany’s insides fluttered at the stern glare in his intense eyes.
She felt his breath on her cheek as he moved in close for a small
measure of privacy from the crushing crowd of fellow fliers waiting
next to the silent luggage belt. Always the exhibitionist, Lukus
moved one palm to the curve of her ass as his other hand snaked
under her long, blonde hair to squeeze the back of her neck.
“Do I have your attention, little girl?” he asked after her breath
hitched from the authoritative strength glaring back at her.
Her whispered “Yes, Sir,” fell easily from her lips.
“That’s good. Now, let’s level set. I’m sure in the future we’ll take
many trips together. Some of those getaways you’ll be in charge of
and I’ll gladly let you plan every detail to your heart’s content. Some,
we may both just wing as last-minute escapes. But some—like the
next two weeks—I am going to have control over. There will be
some opportunities where I’ll ask for your preferences… when and
where to eat… would you rather swim or go to the spa…” He
paused, grinning before adding, “Would you rather I bend you over
the back of the couch or the edge of the bed before fucking you in
the ass?”
Tiffany’s body shivered, acknowledging the effect his naughty
promise had as she literally felt her pussy twinge with anticipation.
Humor danced in his eyes, telling her he’d felt her body’s predicable
reaction to his words.
When she didn’t answer his rhetorical question, he continued his
rant. “But here… today… you don’t have any decisions to make. You
need to learn to just let go—to trust me. All you need to know right
now is that we’re staying in L.A. for a couple nights. It’s already six
here… eight at home. I knew we’d get very little sleep last night
between the late reception and the wedding night celebration
fucking. We’re both tired enough without adding another five-hour
flight to the mix that would get us to the hotel in Maui super late.”
The conveyor belt next to them lurched into motion with a
rumble as Tiffany acknowledged the genius of his plan. Of course,
he was right. She’d been dreading the next long flight.
Her husband’s stern gaze penetrated her as surely as the semi-
hard cock pressing into her tummy would be when they got behind
closed doors. Tiffany could feel the internal tug-of-war between her
submissive and assertive halves wrangling for control. In the
bedroom, submission easily won every time. In public, assertiveness
put up a much harder fight.
Lukus’s supportive embrace, his unending strength she had
learned to count on, and his yummy I’m in charge here persona
helped squelch the final drops of her travel anxiety.
“No smart-ass comeback?” he prodded her finally.
“No, Sir,” she replied, adding, “I think it’s a great idea. I’ve never
been to L.A. and anyway, I’m starving.”
“I’m starving too, but not for food. Now, be a good girl and stay
here with the carry-on bag while I go fight the crowd to grab our
luggage.”
She hated the empty feeling he left behind when he released her,
yet she enjoyed watching a couple of attractive women tracking him
from across the luggage carousel.
You can look all you want, ladies, but he’s all mine.
Her heart swelled with love, feeling like she might need to pinch
herself as she realized she was now Mrs. Lukus Mitchell.
Within minutes, he had wrangled both of their large suitcases
from the conveyor and rejoined her. They barely made it a few
dozen feet towards the exit when Lukus pulled them to a stop near
an older man in a black suit and tie holding a sign with a large
MITCHELL. Tiffany assumed he had arranged the car in advance
until Lukus asked the driver a question.
“I’m Mitchell, but I wasn’t aware they were sending a car for us.
Are you here for Lukus Mitchell?”
The handsome driver smiled his greeting. “The very same.
Congratulations. I hear you two are newlyweds. Welcome to Los
Angeles.”
“This is unexpected. Who exactly sent you?” Lukus questioned.
“Not sure. I just picked up the order and it had a note on it to
take extra good care of you. Here, let me take one of those bags
from you. I’m parked not far from here. Would you rather walk with
me, or I can come back and pick you up at the door if you’d prefer?”
“We can walk,” Lukus answered for them.
They exited into the California evening air and within minutes,
they were settled into the back of the slick black Lincoln Town Car.
As they pulled out into the airport traffic, their driver apologized.
“I’m sorry in advance, but traffic is a bit of a mess with the holiday.
It may take a bit longer than the normal thirty minutes to make it to
our destination.”
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not leave her dwelling-place to follow her husband, but he must
come to her in her own village. The same principle is shown in the
regulation that the chief of the Kél-owí must not marry a woman of
the Targi blood, but can rear children only from black women or
female slaves.
With respect to the custom that the hereditary power does not
descend from the father to the son, but to the sister’s son—a custom
well known to be very prevalent not only in many parts of
Negroland, but also in India, at least in Malabar—it may be supposed
to have belonged originally to the Berber race; for the Azkár, who
have preserved their original manners tolerably pure, have the same
custom, but they also might have adopted it from those tribes (now
their subjects—the Imghád) who conquered the country from the
black natives. It may therefore seem doubtful whether, in the mixed
empires of Ghánata, Melle, and Waláta, this custom belonged to the
black natives or was introduced by the Berbers. Be this as it may, it
is certain that the noble tribe of the Awelímmiden deem the custom
in question shameful, as exhibiting only the man’s mistrust of his
wife’s fidelity; for such is certainly its foundation.
As for the male portion of the ancient population of Asben, I
suppose it to have been for the most part exterminated, while the
rest was degraded into the state of domestic slavery, with the
distinct understanding that neither they nor their children should
ever be sold out of the country. The consequence of this covenant
has been an entire mixture between the Berber conquerors and the
female part of the former population, changing the original Berber
character entirely, as well in manners and language as in features
and complexion. Indeed, the Háusa language is as familiar to these
people as their Auraghíye, although the men, when speaking among
themselves, generally make use of the latter. The consequence is
that the Kél-owí are regarded with a sort of contempt by the purer
Berber tribes, who call them slaves (íkelán). But there is another
class of people, not so numerous, indeed, in Asben itself as in the
districts bordering upon it; these are the Búzawe, or Abogelíte, a
mixed race, with generally more marked Berber features than the
Kél-owí, but of darker colour and lower stature, while in manners
they are generally debased, having lost almost entirely the noble
carriage which distinguishes even the most lawless vagabond of pure
Targi blood. These people, who infest all the regions southwards and
south-eastwards from Asben, are the offspring of Tuarek females
with black people, and may, belong either to the Háusa or to the
Sónghay race.
What I have here said sets forth the historical view of the state of
things in this country, and is well known to all the enlightened
natives. The vulgar account of the origin of the Kél-owí from the
female slave of a Tinýlkum who came to Asben, where she gave
birth to a boy who was the progenitor of the Kél-owí, is obviously
nothing but a popular tale, indicating, at the utmost, only some
slight connection of this tribe with the Tinýlkum.
Having thus preliminarily discussed the name of the tribe and the
way in which it settled in the country, I now proceed to give a list, as
complete as possible, of all the divisions or tiúsi (sing. tausit) which
compose the great community of the Kél-owí.
The most noble (that is to say, the most elevated, not by purity of
blood, but by authority and rank) of the subdivisions of this tribe at
the present time are the Irólangh, the Amanókalen or Sultan family,
to which belongs Ánnur, with no other title than that of Sheikh or
Elder (the original meaning of the word)—“sófo” in Háusa,
“ámaghár” or “ámghár” in Temáshight. The superiority of this
section seems to date only from the time of the present chiefs
predecessor, the Kél-ferwán appearing to have had the ascendency
in earlier times. Though the head of this family has no title but that
of Sheikh, he has nevertheless far greater power than the amanókal
or titular Sultan of the Kél-owí, who resides in Ásodi, and who is at
present really nothing more than a prince in name. The next in
authority to Ánnur is Háj ʿAbdúwa, the son of Ánnur’s eldest sister,
and who resides in Táfidet.
The family or clan of the Irólangh, which, in the stricter sense of
the word, is called Kél-owí, is settled in ten or more villages lying to
the east and the south-east of Tin-téllust, the residence of Ánnur,
and has formed an alliance with two other influential and powerful
families, viz. the Kél-azanéres, or people of Azanéres, a village, as I
shall have occasion to explain further on, of great importance, on
account of its situation in connection with the salt lakes near Bilma,
which constitute the wealth and the vital principle of this community.
On account of this alliance, the section of the Kél-azanéres affected
by it is called Irólangh wuén Kél-azanéres; and to this section
belongs the powerful chief Lúsu, or, properly, el Úsu, who is in reality
the second man in the country on the score of influence.
On the other side, the Irólangh have formed alliance and
relationship with the powerful and numerous tribe of the Ikázkezan,
or Ikéshkeshen, who seem likewise to have sprung from the
Aurághen; and on this account the greater, or at least the more
influential, part of the tribe, including the powerful chief Mghás, is
sometimes called Irólangh wuén Ikázkezan, while, with regard to
their dwelling-place, Támar, they bear the name Kél-támar. But this
is only one portion of the Ikázkezan. Another very numerous section
of them is partly scattered about Damerghú, partly settled in a place
called Elákwas (or, as it is generally pronounced, Alákkos), a place
between Damerghú and Múnio, together with a mixed race called
Kél-elákwas. The Ikázkezan of this latter section bear, in their
beautiful manly figure and fine complexion, much more evident
traces of the pure Berber blood than the Irólangh; but they lead a
very lawless life, and harass the districts on the borders of Háusa
and Bórnu with predatory incursions, especially those settled in
Elákwas.
There are three tribes whose political relations give them greater
importance, namely, the Kél-táfidet, the Kél-n-Néggaru, and the Kél-
fares. The first of these three, to whom belongs the above-
mentioned Háj ʿAbdúwa, live in Táfidet, a group of three villages
lying at the foot of a considerable mountain chain thirty miles to the
south-east of Tin-téllust, and at the distance of only five good days’
march from Bilma. The Kél-n-Néggaru form an important family
originally settled in Néggaru, a district to the north of Selúfiet; but at
present they live in Ásodi and in the village Eghellál, and some of
them lead a nomadic life in the valleys of Tin-téggana and Ásada. On
account of the present Sultan (who belongs to them) being called
Astáfidet, they are now also named Aushi-n-Astáfidet (the tribe of
Astáfidet). The Kél-fares, to whom belongs the great, mʿallem Azóri,
who, on account of his learning, is respected as a prince in the
whole country, live in Tin-téyyat, a village about thirty-five miles
east-north-east from Tin-téllust.
The nominal chief of the Kél-owí is the amanókal residing in Asodi;
but there is now another greater association or confederation,
formed by the Kél-owí, the Kél-gerés, and the Itísan, and some other
smaller tribes combined together; and the head of this confederation
is the great amanókal residing in Ágades. This league, which at
present hardly subsists (the Kél-gerés and Itísan having been driven
by the Kél-owí from their original settlements, and being opposed to
them almost constantly in open hostility), was evidently in former
times very strong and close.
But before speaking of the Kél-gerés and their intimate friends the
Itísan, I shall mention those small tribes which, though not regarded
as belonging to the body of the Kél-owí and placed under the special
and direct supremacy or government of the Sultan of Ágades, are
nevertheless more intimately related to them than to the other great
tribes. These are, besides the Ém-egédesen, or the inhabitants of
Ágades or Agadez, of whom I shall speak in the account of my
journey to that interesting place, the three tribes of the Kél-fadaye,
the Kél-ferwán and the Izeráren.
As for the Kél-fadaye they are the original and real inhabitants of
the district Fáde-ang, which lies round Tághajít; while the Éfadaye,
who have been called after the same district, are rather a mixture of
vagabonds flocking here from different quarters, and principally from
that of the Azkár. But the Kél-fadaye, who, as well as their
neighbours the Éfadaye, took part in the ghazzia against the
expedition on the frontiers of Aïr, are a very turbulent set of people,
being regarded in this light by the natives themselves, as appears
from the letter of the Sultan of Ágades to the chiefs Ánnur and Lúsu,
of which I brought back a copy, wherein they are called Mehárebín,
or freebooters. Nevertheless they are of pure and noble Berber
blood, and renowned for their valour; and I was greatly astonished
to learn afterwards from my noble and intimate friend and protector
the sheikh Sídi Ahmed el Bakáy, that he had married one of their
daughters, and, had long resided amongst them. Even from the
letter of the Sultan of Ágades it appears that they have some
relations with the Awelímmiden. The name of their chief is Shúrwa.
The Kél-ferwán, though they are called after the fine and fertile
place Iferwán, in one of the valleys to the east of Tintágh-odé,
where a good deal of millet is sown, and where there are plenty of
date-trees, do not all reside there at present, a numerous portion of
them having settled in the neighbourhood of Ágades, whence they
make continual marauding expeditions, or “égehen,” upon the
Timbúktu road, and against the Awelímmiden. Nevertheless the Kél-
ferwán, as the kinsmen of the Aurághen, and the Amanókalen (that
is to say the clan to which, before the different tribes came to the
decision of fetching their Sultan from Sókoto, the family of the
Sultan belonged) are of nobler and purer blood than any of the rest.
As an evidence of their former nobility, the custom still remains that
when the Sultan of Ágades leaves the town for any length of time
his deputy or lieutenant in the place is the chief of the Kél-ferwán.
The third tribe of those who are under the direct authority of the
Sultan of Ágades, viz. the Izeráren, live between Ágades and
Damerghú. But I did not come into contact with them.
The Kél-gerés and Itísan seem to have been originally situated in
the fertile and partially beautiful districts round the Bághzen, or (as
these southern tribes pronounce the name in their dialect)
Mághzem, where, on our journey towards Damerghú, we found the
well-built stone houses in which they had formerly dwelt.
On being driven out of their original seats by the Kél-owí, about
twenty-five or thirty years ago, they settled towards the west and
south-west of Ágades, in a territory which was probably given them
by the Awelímmiden, with an intention hostile to the Kél-owí. From
that time they have been alternately in bloody feud or on amicable
terms with the Kél-owí; but a sanguinary war has recently (in 1854)
broken out again between these tribes, which seems to have
consumed the very sources of their strength, and cost the lives of
many of my friends, and among them that of Hámma, the son-in-law
of Ánnur. The principal dwelling-place of the Kél-gerés is Arar, while
their chief market-place is said to be Jóbeli, on the road from Ágades
to Sókoto.
The Kél-gerés and the Itísan together are equal in effective
strength to the Kél-owí, though they are not so numerous, the latter
being certainly able to collect a force of at least ten thousand armed
men, all mounted, besides their slaves, while the former are scarcely
able to furnish half as many. But the Kél-gerés and Itísan have the
advantage of greater unity, while the interests of the various tribes
of the Kél-owí are continually clashing, and very rarely allow the
whole body to collect together, though exceptions occur, as in the
expedition against the Welád Slimán, when they drove away all the
camels (according to report, not less than fifty thousand), and took
possession of the salt lakes near Bilma.
Moreover, the Kél-gerés and Itísan, having preserved their Berber
character in a purer state, are much more warlike. Their force
consists for the greater part of well-mounted cavalry, while the Kél-
owí, with the exception of the Ikázkezan, can muster but few
horses; and of course the advantage of the horseman over the
camel-driver is very great either in open or close fight. The Kél-gerés
have repeatedly fought with success even against the Awelímmiden,
by whom they are called Aráuwen. They have even killed their last
famous chief, Eʾ Nábegha. The Kél-gerés came under the notice of
Clapperton, on account of the unfortunate expedition which they
undertook against the territories of the Fulbe in the year 1823,
though it seems that the expedition consisted chiefly of Tagáma, and
that they were the principal sufferers in that wholesale destruction
by Sultan Bello.
Their arms in general are the same as those of the Kél-owí, even
the men on horseback bearing (besides the spear, the sword, and
the dagger) the immense shield of antelope-hide with which they
very expertly protect themselves and their horses; but some of them
use bows and arrows even on horseback, like many of the Fulbe, in
the same way as the ancient Assyrians. A few only have muskets,
and those few keep them rather for show than for actual use.
The Itísan (who seem to be the nobler tribe of the two, and, as far
as I was able to judge, are a very fine race of men, with expressive,
sharply cut features, and a very light complexion) have a chief or
amanókal of their own, whose position seems to resemble closely
that of the Sultan of the Kél-owí, while the real influence and
authority rests with the war-chiefs, támbelis, or támberis, the most
powerful among whom were, in 1853, Wanagóda, who resides in
Tswáji, near Góber, on the side of the Kél-gerés, and Maíwa, or
Mʿoáwiya, in Gulluntsúna, on the side of the Itísan. The name of the
present amanókal is Ghámbelu.
I must here state that, in political respects, another tribe at
present is closely related with the Kél-gerés, viz. that section of the
Awelímmiden (the “Surka” of Mungo Park) which is called
Awelímmiden wuén Bodhál; but as these belong rather to the Tuarek
or Imóshagh of the west, I shall treat of them in the narrative of my
journey to Timbúktu. Other tribes settled near Ágades, and more
particularly the very remarkable tribe of the Íghdalén, will, in
consequence of the influence exerted on them by the Sónghay race,
be spoken of in my account of that place.
Many valleys of Aír or Asben might produce much more than they
do at present; but as almost the whole supply of provision is
imported, as well as all the clothing material, it is evident that the
population could not be so numerous as it is were it not sustained by
the salt trade of Bilma, which furnishes the people with the means of
bartering advantageously with Háusa. As far as I was able to learn
from personal information, it would seem that this trade did not take
the road by way of Ásben till about a century ago, consequently not
before the country was occupied by the Kél-owí. It is natural to
suppose that so long as the Tébu, or rather Tedá, retained political
strength, they would not allow strangers to reap the whole
advantage of such natural wealth. At present the whole authority of
Ánnur as well as Lúsu seems to be based upon this trade, of which
they are the steady protectors, while many of their nation deem this
trade rather a degrading occupation, and incline much more to a
roving life. I now return to our encampment near Tin-téllust,
reserving a brief account of the general features of the country till
the moment when we are about to leave it.
CHAPTER XV.
RESIDENCE IN TIN-TÉLLUST.
Friday, October 4.—At length the day arrived when I was to set
out on my long-wished-for excursion to Ágades. For although at that
time I was not aware of the whole extent of interest attaching to
that place, it had nevertheless been to me a point of the strongest
attraction. For what can be more interesting than a considerable
town, said to have been once as large as Tunis, situated in the midst
of lawless tribes, on the border of the desert and of the fertile tracts
of an almost unknown continent, established there from ancient
times, and protected as a place of rendezvous and commerce
between nations of the most different character, and having the
most various wants? It is by mere accident that this town has not
attracted as much interest in Europe as her sister town, Timbúktu.
It was a fine morning, with a healthy and refreshing light breeze,
invigorating both body and mind. The old chief, who had never
before visited our encampment, now came out to pay us his
compliments, assuring me once more that “my safety rested upon
his head.” But his heart was so gladdened at witnessing our efforts
to befriend the other great men of his country that his habitual
niggardliness was overcome, and with graceful hospitality he
resigned one of his bullocks to our party. The little caravan I was to
accompany consisted of six camels, five-and-thirty asses, and two
bullocks, one of which was allotted to me, till my protector Hámma
should be able to hire a camel for me. But although well accustomed
to ride on horseback as well as on a camel, I had never yet in my life
tried to sit astride on the broad back of a bullock; and the affair was
the more difficult as there was no saddle, nor anything to sit upon,
except parcels of luggage not very tightly fastened to the animal’s
back and swinging from one side to the other.
After the first bullock had been rejected, as quite unfit, in its wild,
intractable mood, to carry me, or indeed anything else, and when it
had been allowed to return to the herd, the second was at length
secured, the luggage fastened somehow on his back, and I was bid
to mount. I must truly confess that I should have been better
pleased with a horse, or even an ass; but still, hoping to manage
matters, I took my seat, and, bidding my fellow-travellers farewell,
followed my black companions up the broad valley by which we had
come from the north. But we soon left it, and ascended the rocky
ground, getting an interesting view of the broad and massive Mount
Eghellál before us. Having at first thought my seat rather too
insecure for making observations, I grew by degrees a little more
confident, and, taking out my compass, noted the direction of the
road, when suddenly the baggage threatened to fall over to the
right, whereupon I threw the whole weight of my body to the left, in
order to keep the balance; but I unluckily overdid it, and so all at
once down I came, with the whole baggage. The ground was rocky,
and I should inevitably have been hurt not a little if I had not fallen
upon the muzzle of my musket, which I was carrying on my
shoulder, and which being very strong, sustained the shock, and
kept my head from the ground. Even my compass, which I had open
in my left hand, most fortunately escaped uninjured, and I felt
extremely glad that I had fallen so adroitly, but vowed never again
to mount a bullock.
I preferred marching on foot till we reached the valley Eghellúwa,
where plenty of water is found, in several wells. Here we halted a
moment, and I mounted behind Hámma on the lean back of his
camel, holding on by his saddle; but I could not much enjoy my
seat, as I was greatly annoyed by his gun sticking out on the right,
and at every moment menacing my face. I was therefore much
pleased when we reached the little village of Tiggeréresa, lying on
the border of a broad valley well clothed with talha-trees, and a little
further on encamped in a pleasant recess formed by projecting
masses of granite blocks; for here I was told we should surely find
camels, and in fact Hámma hired two for me, for four mithkáls each,
to go to and return from Ágades. Here we also changed our
companions, the very intelligent Mohammed, a son of one of Ánnur’s
sisters, returning to Tin-téllust, while the turbulent Mohammed (I
called him by no other name than Mohammed bábo hánkali), our
friend from Afís, came to attend us, and with him Hámmeda, a
cheerful and amiable old man, who was a fair specimen of the
improvement derivable from the mixture of different blood and of
different national qualities; for while he possessed all the
cheerfulness and vivacity of the Góber nation, his demeanour was
nevertheless moderated by the soberness and gravity peculiar to the
Berber race, and though, while always busy, he was not effectively
industrious, yet his character approached very closely to the
European standard. He was by trade a blacksmith, a more
comprehensive profession in these countries than in Europe,
although in general these famous blacksmiths have neither iron nor
tools to work with. All over the Tuarek country the “énhad” (smith) is
much respected, and the confraternity is most numerous. An
“énhad” is generally the prime minister of every little chief. The
Arabs in Timbúktu call these blacksmiths “mʿallem,” which may give
an idea of their high rank and respected character. Then there is also
the “mʿallema,” the constant female companion of the chiefs wife,
expert above all in beautiful leather work.
Tuesday, October 8.—While the weather was clear and fine, the
valley, bordered on both sides by steep precipices, and adorned with
a rich grove of dúm-trees, and bush and herbage in great variety,
displayed its mingled beauties, chiefly about the well, where, on our
return journey, I made the accompanying sketch. This valley, as well
as those succeeding it, is able to produce not only millet, but even
wheat, wine, and dates, with almost every species of vegetable; and
there are said to be fifty garden fields (gónaki) near the village of
Ífarghén. But too soon we left this charming strip of cultivation, and
ascended the rocky ground on our right, above which again rose
several detached hills, one of which had so interesting and well-
marked a shape that I sketched its outlines. The road which we
followed is not the common one. The latter, after crossing very
rugged ground for about fifteen miles, keeps along the fine deep
valley Télwa for about ten miles, and then ascending for about an
hour, reaches Ágades in three hours more. This latter road passes by
Tímelén, where at times a considerable market is said to be held.
Having descended again, we found the ground in the plain covered
with a thin crust of natron, and further on met people busy in
collecting it; but it is not of very good quality, nor at all comparable
to that of Múnio or to that of the shores of Lake Tsád. There are
several places on the border between the desert and the fertile
districts of Negroland which produce this mineral, which forms a
most important article of commerce in Middle Sudán. Another well-
known natron district is in Zabérma; but in Western Sudán natron is
almost unknown, and it is only very rarely that a small sample of it
can be got in Timbúktu. Many of the Kél-owí have learnt (most
probably from the Tedá or Tébu) the disgusting custom of chewing
tobacco intermixed with natron, while only very few of them smoke.
The monotony of the country ceased when we entered the valley
Búdde, which, running in the direction of our path from south-south-
west to north-north-east, is adorned with a continuous strip of dúm-
trees, besides abísga and talha; but the latter were of rather poor
growth in the northern part of the valley. Having crossed at noon the
broad sandy watercourse, which winds through the rich carpet of
vegetation, and where there happened to be a tolerably large pond
of water, we encamped in the midst of the thicket. Here the
mimosas attained such an exuberance as I had scarcely observed
even in the valley Ásada, and being closely interwoven with
“gráffeni” or climbing plants, they formed an almost impenetrable
thicket. From the midst of this thorny mass of vegetation a beautiful
ripe fruit, about an inch and a half long, of the size of a date and of
dark-red colour, awakened the desire of the traveller; but having
eaten a few, I found them, though sweet, rather mawkish.
Here too I first became acquainted with the troublesome nature of
the “karéngia,” or Pennisetum distichum, which, together with the