e paths;--the stores were shops;--the
suburb of an European colony was _superior_ to their best display! The
markets of Timbuctoo, alone, secured his admiration. Every week they
were thronged with traders, dealers, peddlers and merchants, who
either dwelt in the neighboring kingdoms, or came from afar with
slaves and produce. Moors and Israelites, from the north-east, were
the most eminent and opulent merchants; and among them he counted a
travelling class, crowned with peculiar turbans, whom he called
"Joseph's-people," or, in all likelihood, Armenians.

The prince had no mercy on the government of this influential realm.
Strangers, he said, were watched and taxed. Indeed, he spoke of it
with the peculiar love that we would suppose a Hungarian might bear
towards Austria, or a Milanese to the inquisitorial powers of
Lombardy. In fact, I found that, despite of its architectural
meanness, Timbuctoo was a great central mart for exchange, and that
commercial men as well as the innumerable petty kings, frequented it
not only for the abundant mineral salt in its vicinity, _but because
they could exchange their slaves for foreign merchandise_. I asked
the Fullah why he preferred the markets of Timbuctoo to the
well-stocked stores of regular European settlements on a coast which
was reached with so much more ease than this core of Africa? "Ah!"
said the astute trafficker, "no market is a good one for the genuine
African, in which he cannot openly exchange his _blacks_ for whatever
the original owner or importer can sell without fear! _Slaves, Don
Teodore, are our money!_"

The answer solved in my mind one of the political problems in the
question of African civilization, which I shall probably develope in
the course of this narrative.

CHAPTER XVII.

Having completed the mercantile negotiations of the caravan, and made
my personal arrangements for a protracted absence, I put the noble
Fullah in charge of my establishment, with special charges to my
retainers, clerks, runners, and villagers, to regard the Mami as my
second self. I thought it well, moreover, before I plunged into the
wilderness,--leaving my worldly goods and worldly prospects in charge
of a Mussulman stranger,--to row down to Bangalang for a parting chat
with Mongo John, in which I might sound the veteran as to his feeling
and projects. Ormond was in trouble as soon as I appeared. He was
willing enough that I might perish by treachery on the roadside