[Illustration: DINKA VILLAGE.]




                                  THE

                            HEART OF AFRICA.

                  THREE YEARS’ TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES

              IN THE UNEXPLORED REGIONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.

                           FROM 1868 TO 1871.

                                   BY

                        DR. GEORG SCHWEINFURTH.

                     TRANSLATED BY ELLEN E. FREWER.

                 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY WINWOOD READE.

                           _IN TWO VOLUMES._

                                VOL. I.

                  WITH MAPS AND WOODCUT ILLUSTRATIONS.

                                LONDON:

                 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, LOW, AND SEARLE.

                  CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.

                                 1873.

                         _All rights reserved._




                                LONDON:

                  PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS.

                   STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.




                             INTRODUCTION.

[Illustration]


Above Assouan, the terminus of tourists is the Nubian Desert, a yellow
arm of the Sahara, thrust between Central Africa and Egypt. When this
desert is crossed, you come to the ancient Ethiopia, which consists of
lowlands watered by the Nile, while a little to the left is Abyssinia,
the Switzerland of Africa. The White Nile, which comes from the
Equator, is hereabouts joined by the Blue Nile, or Black Nile, from
the Abyssinian Wells; and near their confluence is the town, Khartoom.
In the glorious days of the Pharaohs Ethiopia was colonised by Egypt,
and there was a famous city, Meroe by name, possessing pyramids and
temples. In the days of Egyptian decline Ethiopia became independent,
conquered the mother country for a time, and was never entered by the
armies of the Persians. The Ptolemies who afterwards reigned at
Alexandria did conquer Ethiopia, even to its Highlands, carrying their
arms, as they boasted, where the Pharaohs themselves had never been;
but the Romans did not occupy the country; they followed the advice of
Augustus,[1] and the Nubian Desert was made their frontier.

In the same manner the Arabs under the caliphs did not attempt the
conquest of Ethiopia, and it was perhaps owing to Buonaparte that
Turkish Egypt advanced so far to the south.

The French expedition has always been stigmatised as a fruitless
crime. But by the French the power of the Mamelukes was broken; by the
French was displayed on Egyptian soil the superior genius of Europe,
and thence may be derived a movement similar to that which in the days
of the Pharaohs was produced by the Phil-Hellenes, or kings who were
“lovers of the Greeks.” Mehemet Ali organised an army in the European
manner, and crossing the Nubian Desert, conquered the lowlands of
Ethiopia or Soudan. At the same time he commenced the civilisation of
Cairo. These two great projects, culture in the capital, and conquest
in Soudan, have been carried out of late years with marvellous
intelligence and energy by the reigning Khedive. To understand what
has been accomplished, let us compare the Egypt and Ethiopia of the
present with the past.

In the past, a European traveller who visited Egypt incurred contumely
and considerable risk. He was not allowed to ride on a horse; he was
called “dog” by the pious who passed him in the streets, and pelted by
the playful gamin; the dogs barked at him; the women turned their eyes
away as if they had seen an unclean thing. But now Cairo, like Rome
and Florence, lives upon tourists, who, if they are not beloved, are
welcome; the city is lighted by gas: it has public gardens in which a
native military band performs every afternoon; an excellent theatre,
for which Verdi composed Aïda; new houses in the Parisian style are
springing up by streets, and are let out at high rents as soon as they
are finished. No gentleman wears a turban; and few any longer affect to
despise the blessings of a good education.

Let us now pass on to the south. In the olden time the Nubian Desert
was infested by roving bandit-tribes. Since the days of Mehemet Ali
they have earned an honest livelihood by letting out their camels: and
soon they will become navvies, railway porters, &c. Already there is
telegraphic communication between Cairo and Khartoom, and a railway is
about to be commenced. As for the Soudan, it was formerly divided
among a number of barbarous chiefs almost incessantly at war. It is
now conquered and at peace, and trade is seldom disturbed. Civilised
opinion, all-powerful at Cairo, penetrates into the remotest recesses
of this new African empire; the traffic in slaves is abolished, and
those who perpetrated their crimes in the dark depths of the continent
have lately been reached by the arm of the law.

It is my purpose in making these remarks to show what facilities for
geographical research are afforded by the power and good will of
Egypt. In former times the explorer began at the Nubian Desert or the
Red Sea; he might be plundered of all that he possessed before he
entered negro Africa at all. Supposing he arrived safely in Sennaar,
he was at once exposed to those vexatious extortions and delays which
so frequently robbed him of his money and his health before he had
opened new ground. As it is, a firmam from the Viceroy obtains him men
and boats from the governor of Khartoom, and therefore his point of
departure is shifted many degrees to the south. He is now able to
penetrate into the heart of Africa before he encounters an independent
chief. The area of the firmam is immense, but beyond that area the
dangers and difficulties of travel are perhaps increased by the
aggressive policy of Egypt. The princes of Darfoor and Waday have a
constant dread of annexation, and a European traveller, if he entered
those countries, would find it difficult to obtain his congé. The west
forest region which lies south of Darfoor and Waday, and also along
the main stream of the Nile, has always been a slave-hunting ground;
annual raids are made from Darfoor and Waday, the hunters taking out
licences from their kings,[2] and the Egyptian company of bandits,
whom Sir Samuel Baker recently dispersed, hunted the land south of
Grondokoro. These wars unsettled the country and rendered it difficult
for travel. The slave-hunters intrigued against the European, fearing
that he would expose them to the government at Cairo; and the
slave-hunted had learnt to regard all white men as their foes and
oppressors. Thus it has happened that out of a host of men who have
attempted to penetrate Africa from north to south only two have
achieved success. The first and foremost of these is Sir Samuel Baker;
the second is Dr. G. A. Schweinfurth, the author of this work.

He was born at Riga in December 1836, and was the son of a merchant.
He studied at Heidelberg and Berlin, where he took his degree as
Doctor of Philosophy, and devoted himself from his boyhood to the
science of botany. At his first school one of the masters was a son of
a missionary in South Africa; he used often to describe the wonders of
that country, and perhaps it was in this manner that his mind was
turned towards that country which afterwards created his career. But
the proximate cause was a collection of plants placed in his hands to
arrange and describe. In 1860, the young Freiherr von Barnim,
accompanied by Dr. Hartmann, had made a journey in the region of the
Nile, where he had fallen a victim to the climate. His collections
were brought home, and as Schweinfurth day after day studied these dry
corpses, a yearning came upon him to go to the land where he might
behold them in all their bloom and their beauty, and where he might
discover new species—those _golden joys_ for the explorer. In 1863,
he left Berlin for Egypt, and having botanised in the Delta of the
Nile, travelled along the shores of the Red Sea, skirted the Highlands
of Abyssinia, passed on to Khartoom, and finally, his purse being
empty, returned to Europe, after an absence of two years and a half,
with a splendid collection of plants. But soon he languished for
Africa again, and submitted to the Royal Academy of Science a plan for
the botanical exploration of the equatorial districts lying west of
the Nile. His proposals were at once accepted; he received a grant of
money from the Humboldt Institution, and, in 1868, he landed in Egypt.
During three years he was absent in the _heart of Africa_, and, even
before he had returned, his name had already become famous in Europe
and America. Travelling, not in the footsteps of Baker, but in a
westerly direction, he reached the neighbourhood of Baker’s lake,
passing through the country of the Niam-Niam, and visiting the unknown
kingdom of Monbuttoo. As an explorer, he stands in the highest rank,
and merits to be classed with Mungo Park, Denham and Clapperton,
Livingstone, Burton, Speke and Grant, Barth and Rohlfs. He can also
claim two qualifications which no African traveller has hitherto
possessed. He is a scientific botanist, and also an accomplished
draughtsman. Park had some knowledge of botany, and Grant made an
excellent collection, but both must be regarded as merely amateurs. In
other works of African travel the explorer has given rude sketches to
some professional artist, and thus the picture has been made; but
Schweinfurth’s sketches were finished works of art. In a geographical
sense, this work is of importance as a contribution to the problem of
the Nile; and ethnologically it sets at rest a point which has long
been under dispute, viz., the existence of a dwarf race in Central
Africa. These Pygmies are mentioned by the classical writers; much has
been said about them by modern travellers on the Nile; Krapf saw one
on the Eastern Coast; the old voyagers allude to their existence in
the kingdom of the Congo, and Du Chaillu met them in Ashango Land. Yet
still much mystery remained which, thanks to Schweinfurth, is now at
an end. That such a race exists is now placed beyond a doubt; and it
is probable that these dwarfs are no other than the Bushmen of South
Africa, who are not confined, as was formerly supposed, to that corner
of the continent, but also inhabit various remote recesses of Africa,
and were probably the original natives of the country.

                                                          WINWOOD READE.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [1] Gibbon, Vol. I. c. i.

     [2] Mohammed el Tounsy, Wadai.




[Illustration:

MAP OF DR. SCHWEINFURTH’S DISCOVERIES in CENTRAL AFRICA]




                               CONTENTS.


                               CHAPTER I.

  My former journey—Inducements to a second—Plan and
     object—Custom-house difficulties at Suez—Scenes in
     the Governor’s divan—Environs of Suez—Sulphur mine of
     Gimsah—Recluse life of the officials—An unenticing coast—The
     roadstead of Djidda—The bride of the fish—Voyage across the
     Red Sea—Salt works of Roway—Appearance of the shore—Charm of
     the moonlight nights—Importance of Suakin—First night-camp
     in the mountains—New species of Dracæna—Numerous succulents
     among the flora—The valley of Singat —Idyllic abode of the
     Governor—Mountains of Erkoweet—The olive-tree wild—Gardens of
     the desert—Characteristics of the town Bedouins—Equipment for
     the desert—Old fanatic from Kano—Injury and oppression—The
     Bedouin camp O-Mareg—Brown coating of the rocks—Goats and
     sheep of the Bedouins—Plant with my own name—Contest with
     the camel-drivers—Ugliness of the women—A monument of
     nature—Arrival at the Nile—Tent in peril—A wedding—The
     ninety-nine islands and the Sablook-straits—Pitiable condition
     of the country—Arrival at Khartoom                       Page 1


                              CHAPTER II.

  Kind reception in Khartoom—Dyafer Pasha, the Governor-General—
     Contract with Ghattas—Herr W. Duisberg—Ivory trade at
     Khartoom—Khartoom possessions in the negro countries—Departure
     from Khartoom—Manning of the boat—Construction of the
     Khartoom boats—First night on the White Nile—Character of
     the landscape—Washing away of the east bank—Fertility of
     the country on the west—Acacia forests—Herds of the
     Hassanieh—Numerous hippopotamuses—Geese and ducks—Beginning
     of the wilderness—The Ambatch-wood—First day of ill-luck—
     Running over a wild buffalo—Baggara Arabs—Brethren in the
     faith—The mountain Nyemati—Evening gossip about pygmies—
     Native Egyptian cultivated plants—Buffalos alarming the
     Baggara—Mohammed Kher, the robber chief—Impressions on the
     first sight of savages—Boat attacked by bees—Frightful
     agony—Gadflies—Giant snails—A man carries three
     canoes—Repair of the sail-yard—Fashoda the most southern
     military station—Fifteen Shillooks at a shot—Gay
     temperament of the people—Gun accidents—African giant
     snakes                                                        43


                              CHAPTER III.

  Camp of the Mudir—A negro king—Campaigns—Future of the
     country—A wise judge—The shrieking priest—Gum-arabic—The
     melodious tree—Mohammed Aboo-Sammat—Boats on the
     flight—Treachery of the Shillooks—General market—Excuse
     for plunder—First papyrus—Cæsar among the pirates—Useless
     attempts to proceed—A world of grass—Hippopotamuses in
     a fright—The last obstacle—Depreciation of the Gazelle
     stream—_Bon-mot_ of the Viceroy—Ghattas’s namesake—The
     slipper-shape—Description of the Nueir—Analogy between
     man and beast—Cactus-type of Euphorbiæ—The Bahr-el-Arab a
     mainstream—Vallisneria meadows—Arrival in Port Rek—True
     nature of the Gazelle—Discovery of the Meshera—Deadly climate
     and its victims—Le Saint—Features of the scenery—The old
     queen and her prince consort—Royal gifts—Fishes and birds   84


                              CHAPTER IV.

  Start for the interior—Flags of the Khartoomers—Comfortable
     travelling with bearers—The African elephant—Parting
     from Shol and Kurdyook—Disgusting wells in the district
     of the Lao—Wide sandflats—Village of Take—Fatal
     accident—Arabian protocol—Halt in the village of
     Kudy—Description of the Dinka—Peculiarities of the
     race—Dyeing of the hair—Nudity—“The Turkish lady”—Iron
     age—Weapons of the Dinka—“People of the stick”—Weapons of
     defence—Domestic cleanliness—_Cuisine_—Entertainment of the
     ladies—Snakes—Tobacco-smoking—Construction of the huts—Dinka
     sheep, goats, and dogs—Reverence for cattle—Degeneration
     of cows—Intestinal worms—Deficiency of milk—Large
     murahs—Capabilities of the Dinka—Warlike spirit—Treatment of
     enemies—Instance of parental affection—Forest district of
     the Al-Waj—Arrival at Ghattas’s chief Seriba                137


                               CHAPTER V.

  Reception at the
     Seriba—Population—Fertility—Salubrity—Management—Poor
     prospects of the ivory trade—Failure of European
     firms in Khartoom—Idrees, the chief agent—Domestic
     arrangements—Beauties of spring—The daughter Seriba Geer—Bit
     of primeval forest—Giraffe-hunt—Bamboo jungle—Negro
     festival and music—Trip to the Dyoor and to Wow—Desertion
     of bearers—Good entertainment—Marquis Antinori and
     Vayssière—Old servant of Petherick’s—Hornblend—Height
     of the water of the Dyoor—Apostrophe to the river—A
     model Seriba—First acquaintance with Niam-niam—Trader
     from Tunis—The Wow River—Seriba Agahd in Wow—Edible
     fruits of the country—Wild buffaloes—Instability
     of dwellings—Caama and Leucotis antelopes—Numerous
     butterflies—Bear-baboons—Pharaoh palms—Daily life of the
     Dyoor—Their race—Iron-smelting—Formation of huts—Idyll of
     village life—Hunting with snares—Women’s work—Graves—Care
     of young and old                                             172


                              CHAPTER VI.

  Laying out a garden _à l’Européenne_—Hunting adventure
     with a bastard Gems-bok—Death of Arslan—Physiognomy
     of the vegetation—Character of the soil—Geography
     of plants—Destruction of a Seriba by natives—Seriba
     law—Cattle-raids on the Dinka—Tour round Ghattas’s
     Seribas—Geography at Geer—Fish of the Tondy—Fear of
     ghosts in Kulongo—Caves of Gubbehee—Central African
     jackal—Bamboos in blossom—Triumph of Nature over her
     traducers—Joint-stock distillery in Gurfala—Nubian love
     of drink—Petherick’s Mundo—Unsuccessful chase in the
     long grass—Two bush-antelopes—Cultivated plants of the
     district—Cereals—Large growth of sorghum—Leguminous
     fruits—Oily fruits—Tubers—Vegetables—Tobacco—Smoking
     in Africa                                                    213


                              CHAPTER VII.

  THE BONGO: Area, boundaries, and population of Bongoland—
     Subjection of the Bongo to the Khartoomers—Decrease of
     population by slave-trading—Red tinge of the skin—Width of
     the skull—Small growth of hair—No aridity in climate—Wild
     tubers as food—Races of goats and dogs—Hunting-weapons—
     Villages and huts—Smelting furnaces—Money of the
     Bongo—Weapons for display—Wood-carving— Penates of the
     Bongo—Musical instruments—Character of Bongo music—
     Corpulence of the women—Hottentot Venus—Mutilation of the
     teeth—Disfigurement of the lips—Arrow-poisoning—National
     games—Marriage premiums—Natural morality—Disposing of the
     dead—Memorial erections—Mistrust of spirits—Loma, good
     and ill-luck—Fear of ghosts—Belief in witches—
     Peculiarities of language—Unity of the people of Central
     Africa—Extermination of the race Page                       256


                             CHAPTER VIII.

  Calamities by fire—Deliverance and escape—Six women-slaves
     burnt—Barterings—Domestication of wild-cats—Plague of
     cockroaches—Pillen wasps—Agamæ and chameleons—Fever—
     Meteorology—Solar phenomenon—A festal reception with an
     unfortunate result—Disturbance of rest at night—Murmuring
     of prayers—Jewish school—Orgies and drum-beating—Casting
     out devils—Resolve to follow Aboo-Sammat—Start towards the
     south—Passage of the Tondy—Character of the forest—The
     water-bock—Scenery by night—Shereefee’s attack—Seriba
     Duggoo—Consequences of the steppe-burning—Seriba
     Dagguddoo—Burnt human bones and charred huts—Tropics in
     winter—Two kinds of ant-hills—Arrival in Sabby—Nocturnal
     festivities of the Bongo—Desolation of the country—
     Goat-suckers—Abundance of game—The zebra-ichneumon—The
     spectral mantis—Lions—Wonderful chase after hartebeests—
     Snake and antelope at a shot                                 315


                              CHAPTER IX.

  Tour through the Mittoo country—Early morning in the wilderness
     —Soldier carried away by a lion—Dokkuttoo—Fishing in the
     Roah—Feeding a slave caravan—Ngahma—Dimindo, the hunter’s
     Seriba—Wounds from the grass—Dangadduloo—Entertainment in the
     Seribas—The river Rohl—Reception at Awoory—Footsore—Trial
     of patience—People of the district—Poncet’s Seriba Mvolo—
     Mercantile prospects for the Egyptian Government—Fantastic
     character of landscape—Structure of pile-work—Rock-rabbits—
     Rock-rabbits’ feet—Nile cataract in miniature—The _Tinnea
     æthiopica_—Seriba Karo on the Wohko—Reggo and its breed of
     dogs—Kurraggera—Aboo Sammat’s festivities—A speech of the
     Kenoosian—Aboo Sammat and the subjugated chiefs—Deragoh
     and its mountains—Kuddoo on the Roah—Fear of lions in the
     forest of Geegyee—Return to Sabby—The Mittoo people—
     Inferiority of race—Disfiguration of the lips by Mittoo
     women—Fetters of fashion—Love of music                     365


                               CHAPTER X.

  Preparations for Niam-niam campaign—Generosity of Aboo Sammat—
     Organisation of the caravan—Ceremonies at starting—Banner
     of Islam—Travelling costume—Terminalia forest—Hartebeest
     chase—Ahmed the Liar—Prospect from Mbala Ngeea—Bivouac on
     the Lehssy—Camp noises at night—Story of cannibalism—
     Ahmed’s fate—The Ibba—First meeting with Niam-niam—Growth
     of the popukky-grass—Elephant-hunting among the Niam-niam—
     Surprise at the white man—Visit to Nganye—A chieftain’s
     household—Entertainment by Nganye—Gumba—Colocasia—A
     Niam-niam minstrel—Beauty of the Zowa-trees—Encephalartus
     on the hill of Gumango—Cultivated districts on the Rye—
     Condition of hamlets and farms—Devastation of Bendo’s
     district—Contest with the soldiers—Escape from a bullet—
     Identity of the Sway and the Dyoor—The law of drainage—
     Passage of the Manzilly—First primeval forest—Frontier
     wildernesses—Organisation in the geography of plants—
     Importance of guinea-fowl to the traveller—Feeding the
     bearers—National diet                                       415


                              CHAPTER XI.

  Aboo Sammat’s territory—Jungle on the brooks—Discovery of wild
     pepper—Giant trees—Modesty of the Niam-niam women—Fresh
     danger from a bullet—A Bongo poisoned by manioc—Liberal
     treatment of bearers—Nduppo’s disagreement with Wando—Savage
     admiration of Europeans—The skin-trade—Wando’s braggings
     and threatenings—Formation of columns for war—Natives
     as soldiers—Difficulties of river-fording—Difference of
     level of soil on the watersheds—Mohammed’s prelude to
     drinking beer—Division of forces—Primeval forest on the
     Lindukoo—Rikkete’s jealousy—Varieties of genets—Mohammed’s
     _réveil_—Morning toilet of the Niam-niam—Waterfall on the
     Lindukoo—Magic roots—Watershed of the Nile district—Simple
     geological formation of Central Africa—The chimpanzee
     and pandanus found only beyond the watershed—Confusion
     in crossing the brook—Africa’s revenge on the white
     man—Venturesome interview of Mohammed with Wando—Value of
     ivory and copper—Definition of a “gallery-wood”—Duality of
     vegetation—Wando visits my tent—Wando’s _nonchalance_—A
     specimen of native cookery—Six Nubians murdered by
     Niam-niam—The leaf-eater and grass-man                      465


                              CHAPTER XII.

  Poultry-market—Votive pillars and hunting-trophies—Indirect
     evidence of cannibalism—The chimpanzee in Central Africa—
     Presents of chimpanzee skulls—New style of huts—The
     A-Banga—Cultivation of manioc in Central Africa—The
     Treculia—Cam-wood and muscat nuts—Conflict with natives—
     Shooting-match and sham fight—Magic lucifers—Mutual
     interchange of blood—Botanical excursion interrupted—Gyabir
     wounded—Modes of expressing pain—Female slaves captured—Giant
     lichens—Tree-termites—Monbuttoo frontier—Reception
     by Nembey—Northern limit of the oil-palm—Imaginary
     alarm—Unexpected arrival of Khartoomers—Visit of Bongwa
     and his wife—Cattle of the Maogoo—Cultivation of the
     sugar-cane—Interview with Izingerria—Arrival at the
     Welle—Condition of the Welle—Relations of the stream—Crossing
     the river—Monbuttoo canoes—New impressions of the heart of
     Africa—Arrival at Munza’s residence                         515




                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

                      (ENGRAVED BY J. D. COOPER.)


                                                                 PAGE

  Ombet—Dragon trees                                    _to face_ 22

  The Lassav (_Capparis galeata_)                                  23

  A Bishareen Sheep                                                34

  Aboo-Odfa                                                        37

  Ambatch Canoe                                                    77

  View of Fashoda                                                  80

  Prickles of _Acacia fistula_                                     98

  In full flight before the Shillook canoes             _to face_ 100

  The vessels in the grass-barrier                      _to face_ 106

  Balæniceps Rex                                                  116

  The Meshera                                                     128

  The old Shol                                                    133

  View on the Meshera (Port Rek)                        _to face_ 136

  Profiles of the Dinka                                           149

  A Dinka Dandy                                                   151

  Dinka Instruments for parrying club blows                       155

  Dinka village                                         _to face_ 159

  Sectional View, showing construction of Dinka Hut               160

  Dinka Bull                                                      161

  Dinka Sheep                                                     162

  Dinka Goat                                                      163

  “Kyatt” Worm                                                    166

  Dinka cattle-park _to face_                                     166

  The chief settlement of Kurshook Ali. A majestic
    Khaya-tree                                          _to face_ 188

  Central African Hartebeest                                      195

  Leucotis Antelope (male)                                        196

  Leucotis Antelope (female)                                      197

  Brass Ornaments of the Dyoor                                    202

  Portrait of a Dyoor                                             203

  Portrait of a Dyoor                                             204

  Spear Head                                                      205

  Dyoor Spade                                                   _ib._

  Dyoor Smelting-furnace                                          207

  Dyoor village in winter                               _to face_ 209

  Central African Bastard Gemsbok (_Antilope leucophæa_)          217

  Kosaria palmata                                                 220

  The Kilnoky                                                     231

  Young Polypterus                                                232

  The Madoqua                                                     244

  The Deloo                                                       245

  Central African Yam                                             251

  The Nyitti                                                    _ib._

  Calyx of the _Hibiscus Sabdarifa_                               253

  Bongo Goat                                                      270

  Short-bodied Goat of the Bongo                                  271

  Vertical Section of Smelting-oven                               278

  Iron Money                                                      279

  Bongo Lances                                                    280

  Pincers used by the Bongo women for plucking out their
    eyelashes                                                     281

  Knife of the Bongo women                                      _ib._

  The Dangabor and a single ring                                  282

  Bongo stool                                                     283

  Yanga’s grave                                                   285

  Bongo                                                           293

  Bongo woman                                                     295

  Phenomenon on the 17th of May, 1869 (_coloured plate_)
                                                        _to face_ 326

  The Depression of the Tondy                           _to face_ 336

  The Central African Waterbock (_Antilope ellipsipryma_)         339

  Mushroom-shaped white-ant hills                                 349

  View in the district of Mvolo                         _to face_ 384

  Poncet’s Seriba in Mvolo                              _to face ib._

  Goggo, a Mittoo-Madi Chief                                      394

  Goat of the Bongo, Mittoo, Momvoo, and Babuckur                 405

  Lory, a Mittoo Woman                                            407

  Wengo, a Mittoo Woman                                           408

  Loobah Woman                                                    409

  Cone of quartz worn in the lip                                _ib._

  Apron worn by the Madi                                          410

  Ngahma, a Mittoo Chief                                          411

  Mittoo Lyre                                                     413

  Niam-niam in full dress                                         439

  Coiffure of the Niam-niam                                       440

  A Niam-niam Minstrel                                  _to face_ 445

  A Niam-niam Girl                                                472

  Niam-niam hamlet on the Diamvonoo                     _to face_ 517

  An A-Banga                                                      524

  Platycerium Elephantotis, Schweinf.                             538

  Bongwa’s Wife                                                   544

  Entry to Izingerria’s Mbanga                          _to face_ 546

         *       *       *       *       *

  Large Map of Dr. Schweinfurth’s Discoveries in Central
    Africa                                           _to follow_ viii




                                ERRATA.

  Vol. I., page 32, line 10 from bottom, _for_ “prevaence,”
          _read_ “prevalence.”
    ”  ” 50, line 16 from top, _for_ “pew,” _read_ “pen.”
    ”  ” 140, line 6 from bottom, _for_ “Kigelia,” _read_ “Kigeliæ.”
    ”  ” 419, line 6 from bottom, _for_ “Shaba,” _read_ “Sheyba.”




                          THE HEART OF AFRICA.




                               CHAPTER I.

  My former journey. Inducements to a second. Plan and object.
     Custom-house difficulties at Suez. Scenes in the Governor’s
     divan. Environs of Suez. Sulphur mine of Gimsah. Recluse
     life of the officials. An unenticing coast. The roadstead of
     Djidda. The bride of the fish. Voyage across the Red Sea.
     Salt works of Roway. Appearance of the shore. Charm of the
     moonlight nights. Importance of Suakin. First night-camp in
     the mountains. New species of Dracæna. Numerous succulents
     among the flora. The valley of Singat. Idyllic abode of the
     Governor. Mountains of Erkoweet. The olive-tree wild. Gardens
     of the desert. Characteristics of the town Bedouins. Equipment
     for the desert. Old fanatic from Kano. Injury and oppression.
     The Bedouin camp O-Mareg. Brown coating of the rocks. Goats and
     sheep of the Bedouins. Plant with my own name. Contest with the
     camel-drivers. Ugliness of the women. A monument of nature.
     Arrival at the Nile. Tent in peril. A wedding. The ninety-nine
     islands and the Sablook-straits. Pitiable condition of the
     country. Arrival at Khartoom.


When, in the summer of 1868, I prepared for the great journey, of
which the following pages contain the description, I was already
no novice on African soil. In 1863 I had served an apprenticeship
in the art of travelling in the sunny fields of Egypt and Nubia.
For months together, in my own boat, I had navigated the Red Sea;
and it was while I was exploring the untraversed mountains by its
coasts that I seriously conceived my larger project. My curiosity
was particularly attracted towards the district of the independent
Bishareen. I had then repeatedly crossed the country between the
Nile and the sea, and while sojourning on the lower terraces of the
Abyssinian highlands, I had learnt to appreciate the full enchantment
of the wonders of nature in Africa.

In 1866, passing through Khartoom and Berber, I found my way back again
to Egypt.

Once entertained, the project of the botanical investigation of these
lands resolved itself more and more into the problem of my life. The
splendid herbarium, too, which I had carried home as the reward of my
labours, obtained though it was at the cost of repeated attacks of
fever, contributed to intensify my desire. Altogether the result of my
first attempt was an encouragement and happy omen for my success in
a second. My experience hitherto was likewise advantageous to me so
far as this,—it had afforded opportunity of cultivating the faculty
so necessary to every explorer of unknown districts, of correctly
generalising from details. Observations and impressions require to
be surveyed from a comprehensive point of view, in order that the
characteristic features of a country may be represented in their true
proportions.

Besides this general information which I had practically gained
and which I could no more have learnt from books than I could have
learnt the foreign habits and modes of thought, I had also acquired
that fluency in the Arab vernacular which is indispensable to every
traveller, and which, moreover, appears to suffice for the whole of
the immense district which is commanded by the Nile and its host of
tributaries.

[Sidenote: BOTANICAL ARDOUR.]

Herbarium, topography, and language all seemed to favour me; the chief
drawback was the state of my health. I suffered from a disorganised
condition of the spleen, which gave me some uneasiness and misgiving;
yet, after all, it appeared to be just the key that had unlocked
the secret of the unexampled good fortune of my journey. The
numerous attacks of fever had probably reduced it to such a state of
inactivity, that it ceased to be affected by any miasma; or
perhaps it had assumed the function of a condensator, so as to render
the miasma innocuous. Anyhow, it seemed to perform services which I
could not do otherwise than gratefully accept as a timely gift of
Providence. As a farewell on my landing in Alexandria, I experienced
one slight twinge from my malady, and then it was quiet; it did not
again re-appear even in the noxious swamps of the Upper Nile, which
had been disastrous to so many of my predecessors. No recurrence of
my disorder interrupted my activity or clouded my enjoyment, but
fever-free I remained, an exception among a hundred travellers.

The time which elapsed between the completion of my first, and the
commencement of my second journey, was occupied in studies which were
directed to the scientific classification and analysis of what had been
so abundantly secured.

Whoever knows the blameless avarice of a plant-hunter will understand
how these studies could only arouse in me a craving after fresh booty.
I could not forget that the greater part of the Nile territory, with
the mysterious flora of its most southern affluents, still remained
a fresh field for botanical investigations; and no wonder that it
presented itself as an object irresistibly attractive to my desires.
But one who has himself, on the virgin soil of knowledge in unopened
lands, been captivated by the charm of gathering fresh varieties,
and has surrendered himself to the unreserved enjoyment of Nature’s
freedom, will be prompted to yet keener eagerness; such an one cannot
be daunted by any privation he has undergone, nor deterred by any alarm
for his health: he recalls as a vision of Paradise the land he has
learnt to love; he exaggerates the insalubrity of a northern climate;
he bewails the wretched formality of our civilised life, and so, back
to the distant solitudes flies his recollection like a dove to the
wilderness.

Of this kind were my impressions as these two years passed away.
I was prohibited from any immediate prosecution of my hope by the
inadequacy of my pecuniary means. A welcome opportunity, however, soon
presented itself, and enabled me to resume my investigation of the
district of the Nile.

After the death of Alexander von Humboldt, there had been founded in
Berlin, as a monument of gratitude and recognition of his services,
the “Humboldt Institution of Natural Philosophy and Travels.” The
object of this was, without regard to nationality or creed, to
assist talent in every direction in which Humboldt had displayed his
scientific energies; and it was especially directed that the funds
should be applied to promote travels in the most-remote districts. The
Institute contemplated a supply of means for the prosecution of those
philosophical studies to which Humboldt dedicated himself with such
unceasing ardour. The Royal Academy of Science of Berlin was vested
alike with the power of deciding on the undertakings and of selecting
suitable agents to carry out their designs.

To that eminent scientific corporation I ventured to submit a scheme
for the botanical investigation of those equatorial districts which are
traversed by the western affluents of the Upper Nile. My proposal met
with a ready sanction, and I was rejoiced to receive a grant of the
disposable funds of the Institution, which had been accumulating for
the space of five years.

Thus it happened, that in July 1868 I was once more upon the soil of
Africa.

[Sidenote: GOVERNMENT COUNTENANCE.]

During my first stay at Khartoom, which is the centre of government of
the Egyptian Soudan, I had collected a variety of information about
the ivory expeditions undertaken by the merchants of the place to the
country about the sources of the Nile; I had likewise made certain
alliances with the natives, and by these means I hoped to project a
plan for a scientific progress over the district on a firm basis.
There was no doubt that in the heathen negro districts of the
Upper Nile, the Egyptian Government exercised little influence and no
authority. Under its direction, the Khartoom merchants had indeed done
something—for sixteen years they had traversed the land in well-nigh
every direction, and they had established stations for themselves
in the negro borders; but they had not made good any hold upon the
territory in general. Nevertheless, I had no alternative than to
conclude that without the countenance of the Government, and without
the co-operation and support of the merchants, there was no reasonable
expectation that the objects of a scientific traveller could be
forwarded.

I was quite aware that various travellers had already attempted, at a
large sacrifice of money, to arrange independent expeditions, and to
engage an adequate number of armed men on their own responsibility;
but no sooner had they reached the more remote regions, where the few
channels of the river were all in the hands of the merchants, than they
necessarily became dependent on the merchants for their supplies. There
was, besides, no other quarter on which to rely for obtaining porters,
who are indispensable in a country where all known beasts of burden are
accustomed in a short time to succumb to the climate.

Upon the whole, therefore, I soon came to the determination of
being taken in the train of the merchants of Khartoom, trusting
that the countries opened by them would offer sufficient scope
for all my energies. It was probable that the ivory traders would
never, of their own accord, want to thwart me; yet I would not rely
entirely on this, as I knew that they were themselves subjects of
the Viceroy. As matter of fact, probably, they were entire masters
of the situation in the negro countries, and really irresponsible;
but still their interests made them apparently subservient to
an absolute government, and this was the handle that I desired
to use accordingly. By diplomatic interest, I had secured the
ostensible recognition of the Viceregal Government, but from my own
experience, I was fully convinced that mere letters of recommendation
to the local authorities, as long as their contents are limited to
ordinary formal phrases, are of very questionable advantage. I might
refer particularly to Sir Samuel Baker’s misadventure as affording an
illustration of the insufficiency of such credentials. I considered
myself fortunate, therefore, in obtaining from the Prime Minister of
the Viceroy (although he was himself not in residence) special orders,
which I knew were indispensable, to the Governor-General of Khartoom.
The Governor-General was to superintend any contract which I might
make with the merchants to secure that my journey through the district
of the Gazelle River should be unhindered, and to ensure the due
fulfilment of whatever obligations might be undertaken.

Thus the course appeared to be smooth, by which I might hope to reach
the centre of the mysterious continent; but I was still far from my
object, still far from the point which I could consider as the true
starting-point of my real journey. Between Alexandria and Khartoom was
a route familiar enough, but even Khartoom could hardly be deemed the
beginning. In order to reach the cannibal and the pigmy there faced
me, as perchance there does the reader, many a trial of patience. What
I did in Alexandria and Cairo can afford little or no interest; I was
there fully occupied in preparations and purchases for my equipment, at
times feeling much depressed. Before me lay the uncertain future, and
the perils, which I could not conceal from myself, of this inhospitable
region; and behind me was Europe, in which to dwell was insupportable,
without seeing my cherished designs accomplished.

[Sidenote: AT SUEZ.]

In Suez the dejection of despondency yielded to feelings of a more
lively nature, partly from vexation, partly from amusement. The
custom-house afforded me vexation, whilst the Governor’s divan was an
unfailing source of amusement. I arrived in Suez on the 16th of
August, proposing to continue my journey to Djidda by the next
steamer. Much gratified by the intelligence that a steamer belonging
to the Sulphur Company would start in four days, I was proceeding to
embark at once, when I was stopped by the custom-house authorities,
who desired a strict investigation of the luggage, and insisted upon
payment of the tariff duties for every article of my huge accumulation
of baggage. Perhaps everything might have been arranged, but when my
additional waggon appeared, although I explained that it had been
furnished me by the Government, and notwithstanding that I was the
bearer of letters directed to the Egyptian revenue officers, the
director required an extra special order, and referred me to the
Governor, who telegraphed back to Alexandria. In the meantime, for the
next two days, I was compelled to take turns with my factotum, the
Nubian servant, to sit in the sun on my baggage in order to protect my
boxes which contained my money bags full of Maria Theresa dollars. As
a refuge for the night I betook myself to a hotel, not much larger
than a hut, in which I had already some years previously found the
accommodation just suited to give me a foretaste of the privations of
the desert.

My consternation may be imagined, when at last there arrived from the
capital an order that I must pay precisely as any ordinary traveller.
Hardly had I recovered my first surprise, when accidentally one of
the Governor’s clerks called attention to some contradictions in the
despatch. Further inquiries were instituted, and the discovery was made
that an important word had been overlooked, and that the tenor of the
message was that I was “_not_” to pay.

Whilst this was going on, and I was kept in my suspense, I stayed
chiefly in the Governor’s divan. This officer, untroubled at the
revolutions which were taking place around him, untouched by any
development of the spirit of the age so perceptible here, where
three-quarters of the world join hands, ruled his people in simplicity
and in the fear of the Lord. During the time which I passed sitting in
his divan awaiting the issue of events, I was a witness of several
incidents exhibiting this simplicity, and which struck me as being
somewhat ludicrous. First stepped in a swarthy-looking fellow, with a
knavish countenance, such as one meets but seldom even in the streets
of Alexandria. He wanted to legitimatise himself in his character of a
British subject, or “_protégé_” as he styled himself. To the
Governor’s inquiry where he came from, he said from Tarablus.
“Tarablus! then how can you be English?” said the Governor. “Why,
surely, because Tarablus is in the west,” replied the rogue. It was
objected that he was forging a lie, and that Tarablus was not in the
west, and thence there ensued a tedious geographical discussion about
Eastern and Western Tripoli. The rascal went on to assert that his
father was a native of Malta, that after his death he had married,
settled in Tripoli, and had become a Mohammedan; and then he cunningly
added, “Allah be with you, and give you grace! I should hope I could
be an Englishman and yet be a good Mussulman.” Quite satisfied, the
Governor gave a contented look, and let him pass. The order was given
for the next applicant to be heard. With hesitating steps there now
approached a little man, black and repulsive, bringing with him a
veiled girl to the front. It was a scene which suggested the thought
that he must be a slave-dealer, and it reminded me of one of Horace
Vernet’s famous pictures; but the circumstances were different. He
proceeded to unroll mysteriously and display a splendid caftan of
yellow silk. He was, it seemed, a tailor of the suburbs, and the
veiled beauty was a slave-girl from Enarea, who had formerly been sold
for filthy lucre, and was now bartering her honesty under the same
inducement. The caftan was a gorgeous vestment lined with imitation
ermine, and not unlike the night-dress of Ivan the Terrible, which is
preserved in the Troitsky convent near Moscow. The girl had ordered
the dress, and now would not pay for it, and accordingly the tailor
had brought her with him to the Governor, and so enforced his demand.

[Sidenote: SCENE IN THE DIVAN.]

The next scene had a wonderful climax. It might almost remind one of
the tedious campaign ending with the sudden collapse of Magdala. What
the beginning of the contention was, I cannot tell. The Governor had
apparently been trying to mediate between two Arnauts; but as the
prolonged discourse was carried on in Turkish, I did not understand
it. A quantity of apples were produced, and some of them laid for
an evidently conciliatory purpose beside the Governor. All at once,
however, some misunderstanding occurred, and there arose a furious
storm of apples: they were hurled in every direction, the Bey himself
being the originator of the bombardment; and the scene closed as
effectively as though there had been a display of fireworks. For
myself, I was happily protected by my situation; but I could see
all, and am ready, if need be, to vouch for my representation in the
presence of the great Sultan himself. If any one is inclined to suspect
that such a sight is incompatible with the dignity or indolence of
Turks, I can only remind him that their enlarged intercourse with
temperaments less sluggish than their own has broken down much of their
composure; and that now just as little patience can be expected from an
African Bey when he is irritated, as from an excited Bavarian corporal.
Although these details may appear to have no direct connection with
what concerns Central Africa, yet they are significant as exhibiting
how completely, for all purposes of administration, every institution
which is Turkish or Mohammedan remains fixed on its ancient basis.
Though Suez were to become a second San Francisco, or however much
it might concentrate upon itself the traffic of the world, scenes of
judicial practice such as these would be sure to recur until the last
Pasha or Bey had taken farewell of this mortal state.

Since my first visit five years ago, in January 1864, the population of
Suez had increased threefold. The Abyssinian campaign alone had been
the means of almost doubling the number of its inhabitants. A portion
of the camp formed for the marching troops, and an immense depôt for
trusses of hay, seeming well nigh like a large village in itself, were
now the sole relics of that successful enterprise.

The fresh-water canal, which had now been completed for five years,
had not effected any marked improvement upon the melancholy environs
of the town, where desolation still reigned as ever; no gardens, no
plantations, no verdure relieved the eye, which sought its refreshment
from the blue sky and the azure sea. The hopeful expectations which
were entertained from that canal seem by no means to have been
realised. The deposit of any fertilising soil proceeded very slowly,
and hitherto had made no change in the condition of vegetation at Suez,
except just at the foot of the Mokkatan mountains, where the boulder
flats, unimpregnated with salt, are traversed by a separate side branch
of the main canal. Large fields of vegetables are cultivated here, and,
without the aid of man, many varieties of desert plants contribute
to the verdure. The tourist who loves to inscribe fresh acquisitions
in his diary, may here without trouble find the far-famed “rose of
Jericho,” which he would seek in vain around the suburbs of Cairo.

In order to reach Khartoom, I had chosen the sea-route by Suakin, so
as to avoid the heat and fatigue of a journey through the great Nubian
desert. This sea-route, by Suakin and Berber, is quicker and altogether
less expensive than that by Assouan and Korosko; but it is not
advisable for merchants who are travelling with any quantity of goods,
on account of the heavy duties which are levied both at starting from
Suez and at landing at Suakin.

[Sidenote: ON THE RED SEA.]

To save trouble and time I thought it would be best to proceed
to Djidda, and there hire a sailing vessel to convey our
party across to Suakin. To reach Djidda, I made choice of a little
French packet which was going thither in preference to one of the
Egyptian Azizieh steamers which ply between Suez and Massowa. These
larger vessels do indeed touch both at Djidda and Suakin, but they are
not suited for general travellers. The name of our little steamer was
‘Prince Mohammed Tawfik,’ (the heir-apparent to the throne of Egypt):
it belonged to the “Compagnie Soufrière,” and was commissioned to
supply the sulphur mines of Gimsah on the Egyptian coast with fresh
water every fourteen days. Although it was in no way adapted for
the conveyance of passengers, I was nevertheless quite comfortable
on board. It was a vessel of only 300 tons burden, but by dividing
the receptacle for conveying the Nile water into seven separate
compartments, a great economy of space was effected, and a good hold
reserved. The fact of the captain being a Dane, was a still farther
recommendation.

It was a memorable morning, that 18th of August, on which the sailing
vessel was prepared to leave the roadstead. Many a curious eye, in
those early hours, was strained to witness the sun, as its disk
rose darkened by the shadow of an eclipse. Above the flood of the
Erythræan Sea appeared a golden sickle, its crescent light bearing
resemblance to the moon. We were detained for yet two days in the
roadstead; but at last we weighed anchor, and the little craft soon
vanished from the midst of its more imposing neighbours, the great
mail ships and men-of-war, which gave such a bright animation to
the anchorage. A refreshing breeze from the north-east carried us
across the gulf. Ever deepening violet shadows covered the shore,
until the obscurity of night had completely hidden Mount St.
Catherine and the Mount of Moses from our gaze. At dawn we were
facing the grim shore of the sulphur mountain. Here we were greeted
by the waving of the French tricolour, which, in the monotonous
grey that mantled the whole land, afforded a bright resting-place for
the weary eye.

According to a treaty made with the Egyptian Government, the Company
are enabled to carry on their operations over 160 miles of coast,
south from Cape Seit, where the Egyptian territory forms a promontory
opposite the peninsula of Sinai. The coast line is similar in outline
to the adjacent Gimsah, whilst, with the group of islands which lie
off it, it forms the entrance of the Gulf of Suez. We now passed
down the narrow channel which divides the group of islands from the
mainland, and there lay before us the bluff of Gimsah, a steep mass
of pure gypsum, white as chalk. This peak is about 200 feet above
the level of the sea: it faces nearly south, its aspect is bare,
and like all the mountains contiguous to the sea on these dreary
and uninhabited coasts, it presents hardly the faintest trace of
vegetation. Since July, 1867, the mines have been worked by a gang of
labourers, of which twenty-six were Europeans and 300 were brought
from Upper Egypt. For a time they were yielding a rich produce,
which afforded the best hopes for the future; but now, like so much
else in the country, have fallen into decay. The mutual intrigues
and corruption of the contractors have yielded a fresh testimony on
the one hand, to the continual ill-luck of the Government, which
seems fated never to be able to improve the bounty of its natural
resources; and on the other, to the ruthless avarice of foreigners,
which is ever stopping the progress of the country. A tedious lawsuit
has laid bare a whole series of scandals, discreditable alike to the
directors and to the administrators of the Viceregal Government. The
state of affairs, even in 1868, was melancholy enough. The Egyptian
Government had contracted to supply work in the mines at a stipulated
daily rate of payment. For the protection of the colony, as well
as for the maintenance of discipline among the workmen, a guard of
twenty-five soldiers was kept at Gimsah; this was rather a
superfluity, since the Egyptian workmen, once taken into service,
could not easily escape. They were hemmed in on one side by wide
deserts, which could not be traversed in a day; and as for danger on
the other from the Bedouins, none could be apprehended. A report about
the Bedouins, which was current at Suez, could not fail to awaken my
interest. The passengers of a mail steamer, which had lately foundered
at the entrance of the Gulf, maintained that they had seen on the
opposite mainland a body of wild men 200 strong, looking out for booty
and for plunder. Assuredly by no exertions could the Bedouins collect
such a force in the course of a few hours. Poor sons of the desert, I
knew them better! An exhausted stomach, shrivelled up on their long
wanderings till it is like an empty water-bottle, is the only voice in
their naturally harmless character which could excite to violence. Give
them a couple of handfuls of durra-corn, and you have made them the
best of friends. Their desire for plunder is limited to the robbing of
turtles’ nests, and the taking of eggs from the neighbouring islands.

[Sidenote: SULPHUR WORKS AT GIMSAH.]

Protected by numberless coral-reefs, the coasts of the Red Sea
everywhere afford to small vessels the most comfortable harbours and
anchorage. Here a short stone quay sufficed as a mole for moorage, and
close behind was a grotto-like cistern in the rock, into which the
water could be pumped by means of pipes connected with the reservoirs
in the ship. On the narrow border of land between the foot of the
rock and the sea, were erected huts of planks for the workmen, and
barracks of stone for the officials of the Company. Such was the
little piece of land on which the colony, composed of representatives
of many a nation, prolonged its deplorable existence. Bounded in
front by the dreary expanse of sea, which was rarely enlivened by a
solitary sail, shut in behind by the sun-scorched gypsum, they were
thus exposed to a double share of direct and reflected rays. The
atmosphere in which they toiled was burdened with the stifling fumes
of sulphur, and oppressed with the perpetual odour of burning
petroleum; not alone the welfare, but the very existence of the
colony, was dependent on the safe return of the steamer which provided
them with food and drink. Whoever has lingered here can form some
conception of the endurances of the poor beasts in our zoological
gardens, which have been brought together from every zone, and caged
in hopeless imprisonment. So monotonously and void of joy did the days
of these wretched miners pass away; they led a life more gloomy than
monastic, which might almost recall the first century of Christendom.
Perhaps such a life belongs to the air, for it may be remembered that
the renowned convents of St. Paul and St. Antony are distant but a few
miles to the north-west; they are remnants of the oldest convents that
are known, and to them, as often as a patriarch is required, does
Egypt, according to ancient rule, ever turn to supply the vacancy.

[Sidenote: TROPICAL HEAT.] 

In reality the colony of Gimsah, when approached from the sea, did
present quite the appearance of a monastic settlement in the heart
of a desert. Caverns were hewn in all directions, in order to work
the veins of gypseous spar containing the sulphur, and amongst them
lay a row of twelve hexagonal little houses, which were the kilns,
built after the Sicilian fashion, and which might at first be mistaken
for the cells of pious monks. To crown the denial and privation
of this existence, the Company, under the pretext of maintaining
discipline, order, and morality among the miners, had peremptorily
banished all women from the sulphur coasts. This restriction was
especially irritating to the French, and as a refinement of cruelty
was as intolerable as those poisonous fumes of pitch and sulphur
which were here set free from the bowels of the earth. Nevertheless
it would seem to have answered well, for young and old, Arab and
European, went through their work with a diligence such as is rarely
to be observed in other tropical regions. Only when the sun’s heat
after midday was most insupportable, was there a cessation of labour.
At 12 o’clock, when the _employé_ of the Suez Canal, in his period of
repose, sauntered into the coffee-house to take an ice or to enjoy a
game at billiards, the untiring director began his daily circuit of
inspection; and seldom has a quotation seemed to me more apt than that
in which he said that the hour was come in which he must surrender
himself to the sulphurous and torturing flames.

After staying twenty-four hours in the harbour at Gimsah, the ‘Prince
Mohammed Tawfik’ continued its voyage to Djidda, where it arrived on
the fourth day. At that season, when no pilgrims were coming or going,
we found the harbour all but deserted; only one French and two Egyptian
men-of-war were in the security of the roadstead. I easily obtained an
open Arab boat, which I hoped, under favourable gales, should convey me
to Suakin.

On account of the prevalence of north-winds through the greater part
of the year, navigation in the Red Sea is nearly always as easy in
this direction as it is difficult in the contrary. This accounts for
European sailing vessels so rarely reaching Suez; they proceed only as
far as Djidda, and that only when coming from India or at the time of
the pilgrimage.

I had to spend two hot days on board while my baggage was disembarked.
Whoever has been to India knows well enough what is the furnace
temperature of the Red Sea, and how, south of the tropic of Cancer, it
becomes insufferable. The thermometer stood at midday at about 95°
Fahrenheit, and the air was like a vapour-bath. The sea water, a few
degrees cooler, afforded us, nevertheless, some refreshment, and we
did our utmost to enjoy it at all hours of the day. Still there was
something very enervating and depressing about this amphibious life.
Had the heat and sun-glare been less overpowering, we might have truly
enjoyed the splashing and sport in the bright green floods which
spread over the shallows where coral banks ranged themselves below,
and where the eye could detect a thousand marvels. Like terraces
filled with the choicest plants, the sloping beds of coral descended
with variegated festoons into the purple shades of the deep; strange
forms were witnessed in these living groves, and conspicuous among
others was the “bride of the fish,” which is celebrated in the Arabian
fishing-song, “O bride, lovely bride of the fish, come to me.” Ever
and anon on my voyage, which was to me as an Odyssey, did I delight to
catch fragments of this song, as it was dreamily hummed by the man at
the stern during the hot midday hour when the crew had sunk into
slumber, and while, noiselessly and spirit-like, our vessel glided
through the emerald floods. The enchantment, as of a fairy tale, of
these waters with their myriad living forms of every tint and shape,
defies all power of description.

Without entering the town, I lost no time in putting off to sea in my
little Arab craft. At first we made little headway, but after noon a
fresh breeze came from the north-east, which continued all night, so
that by the following morning, after a voyage of nearly 100 miles in
twenty hours, we slackened sail under the mountains which I had
previously visited, in lat. 21° N. The Nubian coast was almost close
in front of us. A very primitive kind of compass enabled us to steer
to this goal. I was glad to find that no water had reached my baggage,
for in the heavy sea the boat had rolled and pitched considerably. We
ran along the coast, and each familiar scene revived in me pleasant
memories of my former journey, which had been unmarred by a single
trouble. Close in view was Cape Roway, where the formation of a lagoon
had developed natural salt-works, from which is obtained the salt for
the consumption at Djidda, and for export to India. The salt, however,
is only secured during the eight hottest months of the year, when the
Red Sea is reduced to its lowest level, two or three feet below its
altitude in the winter. The only explanation of this phenomenon seems
to be the prevalent direction of the wind taken in connection with the
position of the water. The bearings of the sea are such that the wind
drives the waves with full force towards the Straits of Mandeb, the
narrowness of which retards the outflow of the water and produces an
immense evaporation.

[Sidenote: SUBMARINE MEADOW.]

The flat shore between the mountains and the sea with its coral reefs
was hidden from our view. A green carpet of samphire covered the coast
for miles along the land. This botanically may be represented as
coming under the genus Suæda, the name of which is imitated from the
Arab “sued,” the original of our “soda.” This plant has long been
turned to a profitable account, and to this day Arab boats may be seen
about the coast, engaged in the procuring and preserving of it.

Rising directly out of the water close to the shore grow in patches
great clusters of Avicennia, so abundant in tropical seas, the
beautiful laurel-leaf of which forms a dazzling contrast to the bare
brown of the mainland.

Over considerable tracts at the depth of thirty feet the sea bottom
resembles a submarine meadow, rich with every species of sea-grass: in
these, turtles and dujongs, which are so numerous in this part of the
Red Sea, find their pasture land. It must be a very protracted
business for these cumbrous creatures to get their sustenance, bit by
bit, from these tender leaflets; but they have time enough and nothing
else to do.

The little islets in the height of summer are the resort of flocks of
water-birds who go there to breed undisturbed. On one of these, in
July 1864, we collected over 2000 eggs of the tern, although the dry
area above the strand consisted of scarcely so many square feet. At
the approach of night the wind failed us, and with fluttering sails we
drifted into sight of a place called Durroor. Two antique Turkish
guard-houses of small dimensions gleamed with their white walls far
across the sea. They are not unlike the rough-walled watch-towers of
our fortresses, and are said to have been built by Selim II. when
Yemen was subdued; they are the scanty remains of a past which
continues to the present, isolated memorials of a barren, inhospitable
coast, where all is changeless as the rolling waves.

I shall not easily forget the nights which I passed becalmed upon that
sea. Sleep there could be none. Drenched in perspiration, one could
only sit by his lamp and indulge the hope that the breeze at daybreak
might be somewhat cooler. Air and sea combined to form an interminable
mass of vapour through which the moon could only penetrate with a
lurid silvery gleam. One bright strip alone cleaves itself a way over
the silent waves; it stretches towards an aperture in the horizon,
which would seem to be the origin of all the brightness: but all is
full of strange illusion, for the moon is here above our heads. The
boat floats as though it were an aërial vessel in a globe of vapour;
the depth of the sea, illumined by the vertical beams of the moon, is
like another sky beneath us, and hosts of mysterious beings,
diversified in colour and confused in form, are moving underneath our
feet. The calmness of the air and the unbroken stillness of this
spectral nature increased the magic of these moonlight nights.

Late in the evening of the third day we ran into the harbour of
Suakin. This town, formerly held directly subject to the Turkish
power, had three years since, together with Massowa and the adjacent
coast, been surrendered to the Viceroy of Egypt. In that short time it
had remarkably improved. Formed by nature to serve as a harbour for
the Egyptian Soudan, and even for Abyssinia, the place, as long as its
administration came from Arabia and Constantinople, could inevitably
never rise, and even now its prosperity is only comparative. The
Egyptian Government still obstructs all traffic by the heavy duties
which it levies even on the natural intercourse with Suez; it is
desirous of transferring its interests as a centre to Massowa,
watching continually with attentive eyes the ungoverned condition of
Abyssinia. Since the traffic on the Nile by way of Berber ever
continues in uninterrupted activity, and this place lies but 200 miles
from Suakin, whilst the distance between Massowa and Khartoom is twice
as far, why any preference should be given to Massowa is altogether
incomprehensible.

[Sidenote: SUAKIN.]

I was now visiting Suakin for the fourth time, and the Governor
received me very graciously as an old acquaintance. He sent
immediately for some camels, which I required for the continuation of
my journey. He himself had to leave the town on the following day to
visit his summer abode in the neighbouring mountains. There still
remained to me four months before commencing my real journey from
Khartoom, as the voyage up the White Nile could not begin until
December or January; I resolved to fill up the interval by a tour
through the mountains of South Nubia, for the purpose of accustoming
myself to the heat and fatigue of a harmless climate, before exposing
myself to the fever atmosphere of Khartoom and the Upper Nile
districts. Just at this time of year, too, the valleys between the Red
Sea and the Nile promised me a rich booty, and I hoped to obtain a
remuneration for any toil on my part by the botanical varieties which
were to be looked for on the elevated ridges. I could not do otherwise
than rejoice in the prospect of escape from the glowing oven of Suakin
towards the western horizon, where the mountain-chains, veiled in grey
vapour, betrayed the refreshing rains which favoured the district and
rendered it so preferable for my sojourn. At night was heard the roll
of distant thunder, and the darkness was broken at intervals by
flashes of lightning.

On the 10th of September at daybreak all was ready. After the lapse of
two years passed in the domestic comforts of Europe, it is not
altogether easy to remount the “ship of the desert.” Our first day’s
march was through a trying country. The plain indeed was uniformly
level, but for twelve miles it was covered with such huge black
boulders glowing with the heat, that progress was very difficult.
After we had proceeded about nine miles from the town, we made a short
midday halt under the miserable shade of some dry acacias, which were
like the uncovered skeletons of parasols. As if in despair they
stretched their leafless branches towards the sky, and seemed to
implore for water. Exposed here in a leathern pipe to the wind, our
drinking water soon cooled down to a temperature about 18° below the
surrounding atmosphere.

The coast plains, although practically level, evidently slope very
gradually down to the sea, for after a few hours’ march the town is
seen like a white spot far below. Beyond is the expanse of sea, which
melts into the horizon. The coast-ridges are on an average from 3000
to 4000 feet high, but occasionally single peaks may rise to an
altitude of 5000 feet. At one time they appear like a lofty wall,
rising abruptly from the slanting plane; at another like separate
piles of rock picturesquely grouped behind and over one another. Our
route awhile across the narrow promontory now lay along the enclosure
of a valley bounded by sloping walls of granite. After twelve hours’
perseverance, on the afternoon of the following day we reached the
first mountain pass, about 3000 feet above the level of the sea.

[Sidenote: NIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS.]

Infinitely refreshing was it to ascend at every step higher into the
mountain atmosphere, and to be raised above the vapourous heat of the
suffocating shore. There seemed a requickening energy in every breath
of air, as gratefully it circulated on the heights. The real charm of
such a change could not be appreciated more than on the first night of
camping-out. Comfortably stretched upon the clean smooth stones which
form the valley, the weary limbs could find repose; through the silent
night the stars shed a bright and kind encouragement; there was an
aromatic odour floating refreshingly around, for, impregnated with
camphor, mint, and thyme, the air was laden with scents which the
stores of the perfumer could not rival, and such as no quarter of the
globe could surpass. The plants which exhale the welcome aroma are
little obscure mountain weeds, amongst which a “pulicaria” plays an
essential part. Noiselessly and like spectres glided the camels on
their soft feet through the valley, rejoicing in the pasture, sweet
and luscious after the scanty herbage of the shore, where for them all
was dearth and salt and bitterness.

Solemnity reigned throughout nature; no discordant cry of mountain
bird, no howling beast of prey, disturbed the traveller: there was
only the delicate song of the desert cricket to lull him into peaceful
slumber.

The mountains between Suakin and Singat afford a habitat for such
numbers of remarkable plants that they appear for their variety alone
well worth a visit. The most striking forms which arrest the attention
of the uninitiated are the Dracænæ and Euphorbiæ, remarkable as both
are for their fantastic shapes. They flourish on the loftiest heights,
but are found 2000 feet below, towards the valleys. The first belong
to those types of vegetation which (as though they had been carried in
the air and dropped from another world) are limited to extremely
narrow sections of the earth. The first dragon-trees (_dracænæ_) which
were observed in the African continent, are those which are to be
found on these mountains alone, and even here only over an area of a
few square miles.[3] The Nubian dracænæ, being only from 15 to 20 feet
in height, are dwarfish in comparison with their famous sister of
Orotava in Teneriffe, but in other respects there are only minute and
subtle distinctions between them and those which are found in the
Canary Isles. In the language of the native nomad tribes of the
Hadendoa and Bishareen, the dracæna is known as “To-Omba” or
“T’Ombet.” The leaves afford bast for cords, the long flower stalks
serve in June as excellent food for camels, whilst for goats they are
almost poison.[4]

Another remarkable feature of this mountain-district is the large
number of succulent plants, the fantastic forms of which here
appropriately adorn the craggy walls of the valley, and supply a
needed decoration to the more barren rocks of Southern Nubia.

In Abyssinia itself neither euphorbiæ nor aloes are ever found at an
altitude of less than 4000 feet. Here, beside the giant Kolkwal, they
are found much lower towards the valley. Four smaller kinds of the
same species, as well as some remarkable Stapeliæ (which resemble the
cactus type of the euphorbiæ), flourish to the very summit of the
mountains. Found in company with them is a wild unearthly-looking
plant called the Caraïb (_Bucerosia_), of which the branches are like
wings, prickly and jagged round the edges like a dragon’s back. They
produce clusters of brown flowers as large as one’s fist, which exhale
a noxious and revolting smell, the plants themselves being swollen
with a white and slimy poisonous juice.

[Illustration: OMBET—DRAGON-TREES.]

[Sidenote: THE LASSAV.]

No space may be found to enumerate all the varieties, but I must
mention the Seyleb (_Sanseviera_), whose fleshy tender leaves provided
the Nubian nomad with the ordinary material for the cords with which
he binds their burdens on his camels. These leaves in shape are not
unlike the Nile whips, and on that account may readily recall and stir
up painful memories to the poor Nubian of the kurbatch of the Turks,
whenever he may chance to see them. So richly burdened are the hanging
rocks with the varieties of rarest plants; so large and multiform is
the exhibition of scarce and novel succulents—that the greatest
enthusiast could hardly fail to be bewildered. As a most interesting
development of structural peculiarity, the Lassav, one of the
Capparids, demands some notice. It produces flowers which take a form
quite unique. A drawing taken from nature shows the strange deformity
of the petals, a double cluster of which is attached to the one broad
sepal, so as to produce the effect of two handkerchiefs in one pocket.

[Illustration: The Lassav (_Capparis galeata_). (Illustration
two-thirds of natural size.)]

This rich covering of vegetation is, however, confined to the side of
the mountains towards the sea; on the other side, as soon as the
second pass is left behind, the rocks are bare, and only the lowest
part of the valley is covered with anything of luxuriant verdure.
Acacias, growing so closely as almost to form a hedge, and gigantic
clumps of the grass-green Salvadora, shoot up like great dishes of
green salad from the cheerless space around. The moistening vapour of
the sea does not reach here to clothe the parched and naked rock. Such
were the valleys through which on the morning of the third day we
passed on to complete the first stage of our wanderings. Towards
midday, after marching for nineteen hours, we had reached Singat, the
summer retreat of the town Bedouins of Suakin.

The valley of Singat is about a league in breadth. It is enclosed by
two lofty mountain chains running parallel to the coast, apparently
joined by a number of projecting spurs. On the broad sandy bed of the
valley were erected scarcely less than 500 of those Bedouin tents, of
which the shape, in their drooping folds, may be compared to what we
see in the breast of a roasted fowl. Here, at least a quarter of the
population of the town, which reckons 3000 souls, passes the season of
refreshing rains. Later, when the mountain valleys are again dry and
destitute of pasture, these transient habitations are carried back
again; and the camels and goats must find their pasturage on the
slopes in the vicinity of the town, which are exposed to the action of
the damp sea air.

Here, at his usual resort, I met Muntass Bey, the Governor of Suakin.
His residence consisted of a Sammor-acacia, with foliage
wide-spreading like a parasol. Under the shadow of this commodious and
airy roof, common to all, was served the midday meal. Some tents in
the immediate proximity were provided as places of refuge from the
rain. A storm of unusual violence broke over us in the course of the
day, and changed the centre of the valley into a foaming torrent, 200
paces wide, for three hours; the flood rushed onwards with unabated
strength and sought the sea. I found shelter in a guard-room built of
blocks of stone and clay, the quarters of the garrison of 200
Bazibozuks. After the rain the temperature was lowered to a refreshing
coolness, and on the following morning I rejoiced to register a
temperature of 68° F.

[Sidenote: SUMMER RETREATS.]

Whilst I stayed in Singat, I always at dinner-time found an open table
beneath the Governor’s great tree. This was rendered enjoyable not
more by the skill of the cook than by the harmony of the Egyptian
singers, whom the Bey had in his suite. The camels, which I had hired
in Suakin, were meanwhile sent away to the pastures in the
neighbouring valleys, to be recruited against their approaching
fatigues. The camel drivers were by no means in a hurry to start, as
time was not of the smallest value to them. A trip of five days in the
lofty mountains of Erkoweet, eight or ten leagues to the south-east of
Singat, unclosed to my researches the vegetable treasures of this most
northerly spur of the Abyssinian highland, hitherto unexplored; and
was full of enjoyment, equally beneficial both to mind and body.

Erkoweet is another summer retreat for the people of Suakin. The
valley in which the tents are pitched is called Harrasa, and discloses
the whole flora of the Abyssinian highland in wonderful and complete
luxuriance. Euphorbiæ and dracænæ deck the mountains in masses which
might almost be reckoned by millions, so that the slopes in the
distance have the appearance of being covered with huge black patches.
From amongst innumerable projections of granite, mostly dome-shaped
and adorned with charming foliage, there juts forth one huge slanting
mass of mountain, which is probably the highest elevation of the
district of Suakin, if not of the entire chain which runs along the
coast. I ascended this peak nearly 6000 feet in altitude, and was
amply repaid for the exertion by the magnificent prospect before me.
There was extreme enjoyment in the freshness of the air. The whole
contour of the coast lay stretched in clear and perfect outline. The
whole confused system of the mountains of the coast lay like a map
below my feet. In a circumference of seventy miles I plainly
recognised single masses, so that the peaks known to me in my earlier
visits served as landmarks to inform me of my true position.

As the result of several favourable meteorological combinations, there
exists in these loftier elevations a more luxuriant development of
vegetation than in any of the neighbouring mountain districts of South
Nubia, which have a lower altitude. This is illustrated very plainly
by the clusters of beard-moss (_Usnea_) which hang on every twig and
branch, by the abundance of sulphur-coloured lichens on every mass of
rock, and likewise by the formation of numerous luxuriant beds of
moss. Mosses are generally deficient alike in Egypt proper and in
Nubia, and are scarcely seen in the trenches and clefts of the Nile
valley; their existence is dependent on a minimum of moisture
throughout the year, which is there but rarely reached.

At Erkoweet I found again the wild olive tree, which I had already
discovered some years previously on the mountains by the Elbe. I
noticed that it assumes the same low bushy shape here, and bears the
same box-like foliage, as it does on the coast ridges of the
Mediterranean; when the two are compared they exhibit a general
identity, so that I conclude the African and European are of the same
family. The olive tree, it is well known, is reckoned, like the fig
tree, as originally a product of the frontiers of Asia; in remote
antiquity, it was reverenced by Semitic nations, and cultivated until
it bore a rich produce. This type of vegetation fails completely in
the interior of the continent. In the time of Homer the olive grew
wild on the islands of the Grecian Archipelago, and it is still to be
met with, though in an altered condition, on the coasts of Syria; but
here on the Red Sea it has remained unchanged for thousands of years,
and the famous classical tree of myth and song is still undisturbed in
the dreams of its youth.

[Sidenote: WATER-COURSES.]

A bare boulder-flat of black hornblende stones, extending several
miles, divides the mountains of Erkoweet from those which bound the
valley of Singat on the east. The broad water-courses which run
between, show what must be the prodigious volume and violence of the
currents which occasionally rush downwards to the sea. These deep
water-courses are, however, only periodically filled, and then only
for a few hours, in the course of the year, so that for some months
they are adapted for the cultivation of corn. Notwithstanding, there
was here but a very limited cultivation of sorghum, the Arabian durra,
since there is a difficulty in securing labour. The idle nomads have
no disposition for agricultural employment, although famine in dry
seasons, when the flocks can nowhere find sufficient pasture, brings
back its recurring calamity. In the year before my last visit, in the
valleys about Singat alone, seventy men had died literally of hunger,
after vainly endeavouring for weeks to subsist upon wild purslane.

All water-courses, with a supply of moist soil upon the ground just
sufficient for a few months, although they are not enclosed by heights
like valleys, are comprehended within the Arab designation “el wady.”
Cheerless through the dry season, after the first rain their level
sand flats are clothed with the most luxuriant flora; fresh springing
grasses put forth their little cushion points, and give the sward the
appearance of being dotted with a myriad spikes; then quickly come the
sprouting blades, and all is like a waving field of corn. Halfway
between Singat and Erkoweet we halted in a wady of this character,
which bore the name of Sarroweet. What a prospect! how gay with its
variety of hue, green and red and yellow! Nothing could be more
pleasant than the shade of the acacia, nothing more striking than the
abundance of bloom of the Abyssinian aloe, transforming the dreary
sand-beds into smiling gardens. Green were the tabbes-grass and the
acacias, yellow and red were the aloes, and in such crowded masses,
that I was involuntarily reminded of the splendour of the tulip beds
of the Netherlands; but here gardens lay in the midst of a waste of
gloomy black stone. One special charm of a desert journey is that it
is full of contrasts, that it brings close together dearth and plenty,
death and life; it opens the eyes of the traveller to the minutest
benefits of nature, and demonstrates how every enjoyment is allied to
a corresponding deprivation. Richly laden with treasures I returned to
Singat, where I remained until the 21st of September, and during my
stay I had once again repeated opportunities of studying my old
friends the people of Suakin in their domestic relations.

The coast lands on both sides of the Red Sea offer a striking likeness
to each other, which does not consist in physical resemblances alone.
The people are the same in feeling and in manners, however much the
true Ethiopians, such as the Bishareen, Hadendoa, and Beni-Ammer, may
differ in language and descent from the true Arabs; I say from the
_true_ Arabs, because the term Arab has been at times too
indiscriminately applied, and ought to be limited to the nomads in
Arabia, as distinguished from the settlers. On both coasts the
inhabitants follow the same character of life. They are people of the
deserts, wandering shepherds, and procure whatever corn they may
require from external sources. Even the town life of the Arabs is
essentially half a camp life. As a collateral illustration of this I
may remark that to this day in Malta, where an Arab colony has reached
as high a degree of civilisation as ever yet it has attained, the
small towns, which are inhabited by this active little community, are
called by the very same designations as elsewhere belong to the nomad
encampments in the desert. Half Suakin is like a desert camp, and for
this reason I have called its inhabitants town Bedouins.

[Sidenote: TOWN BEDOUINS.]

These town Bedouins are people whose only distinction from the
Bedouins of the mountains is that their dress almost always is of a
spotless white; the true sons of the desert, in consequence of their
continual camp life, have long toned down the colour of their single
garment, never washed, to a brownish-grey, quite in harmony with the
general hue of the surrounding country. Many very beautiful faces,
perfectly regular in feature, are to be found amongst these swarthy
Bedouins, whilst a wonderful dignity and elegance mark their
movements. Like the inhabitants of Hedjas and Yemen they chew tobacco,
and find recreation in various amusements which are unknown to the
mountain Bedouins. All alike, however, have in common the same single
aim of existence: to do as little as possible, to sleep much, to drink
goats’ milk, to eat sheep’s flesh, and finally to scrape together all
the Maria Theresa dollars that they can; the latter is a matter of
some difficulty, on account of their natural idleness. Black female
slaves instead of asses, which in Suakin would cost too much to feed,
are indispensable to them for carrying water from the well to the
town. Whoever possesses fifty dollars in his bag and has one slave
besides his water-bearer, is quite a magnate, and spends much labour
in the profuse adornment of his hair. When he is not sleeping, that is
to say, in the cool hours of the morning and evening, he takes his
walk, always bareheaded and with high-towering locks, here and there
on the road joining in a conversation or conferring the favours of his
weighty counsel. When it becomes too hot in Suakin, and the goats give
no more milk, after the last weed has been devoured, and the last
tundup (sodada) eaten to the roots by the camels, they leave the
cob-webbed thorn hedges of their farms, pack together the acacia-rods
and date-mats, the materials of the tent, and withdraw to the mountain
pastures, which they retain by ancestral right. After them follow the
Turkish soldiers, who roam through the valleys, switching their
kurbatch, and proceed to collect the taxes levied in proportion to the
number of cattle. The services of these officials in return are
enlisted to re-capture any camel stealers who may be seeking to escape
to the remote solitudes of the mountains.

On the 21st of September I resumed my journey towards the Nile, a
further distance of 175 miles. On the way my little party, which,
besides the camel drivers, consisted of only a native of Berber and a
dog which I had brought from Europe, was increased by falling in with
two young pilgrims on their way from Mecca. I was unable to complete
my proper retinue until I should reach Khartoom, since the men who had
offered me their services in Egypt appeared so weakly that I
considered them unfit for undertaking any journey into Central Africa.
The addition therefore of these two blacks for the approaching march
of sixteen days through mountain solitudes was very welcome. Their
armour consisted of a Turkish sabre, and this, together with my gun,
seemed completely sufficient protection against the natives, whom Sir
Samuel Baker a few years before had so successfully mastered with the
help of an umbrella, that a considerable number of them voluntarily
laid down their arms. The vigilance of the dog was a security against
any nocturnal attack, and indeed, at two different times he had given
warning to my little caravan just at the right time.

[Sidenote: RIVAL WIVES.]

Less welcome to me was the company of a disagreeable old fanatic, who,
followed by two wives, was on his return journey from the Holy City of
the East to his home in the far west. He was a priest from Kano in
Haussa, and when he told of the wonders of the world which he had seen
on his long journeys, I could always set him right, having really seen
infinitely more than he had. I completely non-plussed him by my
geographical knowledge of the Western Soudan, and after the details
which I gave of that country, he was, however reluctantly, at last
obliged to believe that I had actually been there. But any friendship
between us was rendered impossible by the constant noise and
contention caused by his wives. All amicable relations came utterly to
an end when I found myself driven as I did to come forward as the
champion of the oppressed. Of the priest’s two wives, one had
faithfully followed her husband from his home, and now saw herself
supplanted by the other, whom the priest had married at the tomb of
the Prophet. The fellow had begun to impose on his first wife in the
most shameful manner by the withdrawal of every choice morsel and of
every harmless indulgence; consequently the two women were continually
quarrelling, and literally laid on to each other by the hair. The man
himself always took the part of the new wife, and cruelly maltreated
the old. At last it became too much for me to be the daily witness of
such revolting scenes, and I took the old sinner to task, and tried to
inculcate in him due ideas of woman’s rights and dignity, so that he
could tell his countrymen in Haussa what we thought on such matters.
The indifferent camel drivers and the still more indifferent camels,
both alike as unmoved as the black rocks in their solemn stateliness,
alone surveyed this little tragedy. Whoever has to travel through
deserts should endeavour to be free from such rabble and useless
retinue. A large company is troublesome on account of the scarcity of
shade, since there is not always time at the halting-places to pitch a
tent, and one must avail himself of the few larger trees which exist
in the valleys.

A stiff ascent of the road at a short distance from Singat led
westwards to the water-shed between the Nile and the Red Sea. The
elevated pass is rather to the rear of the defiles on the Suakin side.
We then descended to a very broad wady full of pasture, called
O-Mareg, which was a third summer retreat for the natives of Suakin.
In the middle of a green valley; two miles broad, some fifty tents
were erected, all under the surveillance of a Turkish captain with
some soldiers to look after the interests of the Government. Great
herds of camels, cows, sheep, and goats, and amongst them several
hundreds of asses, were grazing in every direction. The Wady O-Mareg
does not form, as might be expected, a tributary of the great
mountain-river Langeb, which at its recurring period joins the Barka,
but takes its course direct to the Atbara, as do all the larger
water-courses of the ensuing road.

In consequence of the repeated storms of rain, at the time of my
journey there was water in nearly all the valleys, and everywhere
there was abundance of pasture for the camels. The drivers accordingly
chose a more direct road running to the south of the ordinary route of
the caravans. This enabled me to fill up my map with many new details.
As a general rule the drivers followed the rule of never, if possible,
encountering the native shepherds on the road. Although they were of
the same race, they feared the conflicts which were frequently
unavoidable in the neighbourhood of any wells. I was not surprised at
their timidity, as I had myself experienced some difficulty in my
former tour.

Having crossed the third chain, we reached the great wady Amet, which
is bounded on the north by Mount O-Kurr, a colossal mass visible as a
landmark in the west for a whole day’s journey. The predominating
rocks are greenstone in several varieties, although beautiful
serpentine is far from infrequent. In one part of the valley rises a
homogeneous mass of splendid porphyry nearly 1000 feet in height,
brilliantly marked on its surface with veins of Indian red. From the
prevaence in these mountains of greenstone, which no doubt often
contains a grass-green stratum, the conclusion must not be drawn that
green is at all a prevailing colour of the walls of rock. This is by
no means the case; indeed, nearly all kinds of rock, however diverse
they may appear when broken, are covered externally with an uniform
dark brown, which obliterates all distinctive shades. In its interior
the greenstone is unpolished and of bright colour. A superficial
accretion, the cause of which remains hitherto unexplained, forms
itself on every fragment and gives a coating about a millimeter thick,
in colour not unlike a bright brown cake of chocolate.

[Sidenote: BISHAREEN GOATS AND SHEEP.]

In Wady Amet we lighted upon some sorghum-fields, which seem to have
been planted out, like those at O-Mareg and Erkoweet, by way of
experiment; but in reality they here represented the whole exertions
of the idle inhabitants of the desert. Some primitive huts, heaped up
in Cyclopean rudeness, bore witness to the stability of this
rendezvous of native shepherds. We were here amply provided with milk
and meat, goats and sheep being alike abundant in the neighbouring
valleys. Camel-breeding is not carried on here so much as in the
northern parts of Etbai, as the whole district of the Bishareen
between the Nile and the sea is called; the breeders avoiding the
proximity of the great roads through fear of the foraging and
reprisals of the military.

The goats of the country form a small race of their own and belong to
the comprehensive variety which is called the Ethiopian. Differing
from those of the Nile valley, they are again found among all the
nomad people in the interior; the goats of the Dinka being a larger
kind of the same character. The Ethiopian goat may be reckoned among
the most agile and elegant of the race, and it might be called the
climbing goat, since it prefers to feed on the young shoots of the
acacia, and for that purpose often climbs up the slanting stems or
low-growing branches. A large flock occasionally groups itself round a
tree with pendant branches: in that case, the animals are rarely seen
in any other position than standing upright on their hind legs, and
give at a distance an impression that they must be a crowd of men.
Others may be observed in grotesque attitudes, with legs straddling,
hanging in mid-air, and weighing down the boughs of an acacia.

[Illustration: A Bishareen Sheep.]

The Bishareen keep larger flocks of sheep than of goats; the breed is
very peculiar, marked by distinctions which might almost constitute a
nationality. The Etbai race is closely allied to the thick-tailed
species in all general characteristics, but distinguished by the
lissome condition of its long and bushy tail. The fleece is hardly
worthy of being called wool at all, for it simply consists of rather
long straight hair. Almost all are perfectly white, except (and this
is the chief mark of distinction in the species) on the ancles and
mouth, which are covered with black hair. The usual price in the
country for such sheep never exceeds a Maria Theresa dollar (four
shillings), whilst young lambs cost but half this sum. Cattle are
found only in the environs of Suakin and on the road to Taka, lying
further south than the one on which we travelled. On the route which
we took, in consequence of the smaller rainfall, the pasture necessary
for their maintenance is not permanent throughout the year, like it is
in the lands adjacent to the Barka basin. In the next district we
crossed a high level, intersected by numerous water-courses deeply
worn amidst the stones and rubble. The most considerable of all these
water-courses periodically flowing to the south-west, was the Wady
Arab. The dry bed of this was bounded by shelving banks from 40 to 50
feet in height, and the ascent was steep enough to demand no small
exertion from our laden camels.

[Sidenote: SCHWEINFURTHIA.]

Here grew in great abundance the plant, a species of Scrophulariaceæ,
to which my own name had been assigned (_Schweinfurthia pterosperma_).
It met me as a greeting from my distant home. In itself it is but an
insignificant little weed, but upon its discovery, Alexander Braun,
the celebrated professor of the University of Berlin, had named it in
my honour—a little token of remembrance, which, according to the
tribute of Linnæus, may be more lasting than any memorial in brass or
marble.

A hollow, as of a saddle-seat, between the mountains led us over the
chain, unbroken by a pass, of the fourth of the parallel mountain
ridges which, with many branches, traverse this part of Africa. To the
right on the north we left Mount Wowinte and the peak of Badab in
which it culminates at an altitude of 5000 feet. The road then
descended into the wide plain spreading to the west of this height,
where a magnificent panorama opened to the view. Next we reached the
Wady Habohb, a watercourse of which the breadth was about 400 feet.
Proceeding across Wady Kokreb, two miles wide, we arrived at length at
the equally wide Wady Yumga. By this time we were on the next line of
the mountain range, in which is situated the much frequented well of
Koway, a rendezvous for all the nomads who wander in the neighbouring
localities. Here, by order of the great Sheikh of the Hadendoa, a
tribute, sanctioned by the Egyptian Government, is levied on every
caravan that passes.

My lazy camel drivers used every available opportunity to prolong the
duration of the journey. For my part I was indifferent to this, as I
had time at my disposal, and my enjoyment of the flora fully occupied
me; my companions, however, were not so patient. They longed for their
cherished Nile to put an end to this camp-life in dreary deserts. At
length even my own forbearance was exhausted; the excuses became
intolerable: at one time the camels had run away, at another they
wanted food, so that it grew up to a regular fight between us four and
the dozen Bedouins who were conducting us. Some sticks, the single
Turkish sabre, and an indestructible pipe tube, which I swung in my
hand, were our only weapons, but they sufficed to turn the victory to
our side. My tube smashed a number of patriarchal shepherd staves, and
thus an end was put to the eternal halts and feeds, and we went on
towards the west at a better pace. I thought of the proverb that the
European in India either learns patience or loses it.

As we followed the Wady Laemeb with the water of its channel now
replaced by verdure, we come to O-Fik, the last mountain on the route,
beyond which a desert, unrefreshed by a single spring, extends as far
as the Nile valley. The last well was that of O-Baek. We lighted here
upon some Bishareen families, who were staying temporarily with their
flocks in the neighbourhood of the well, and were accustomed after the
first rain to sow a considerable piece of ground with sorghum. Amongst
the men may be observed expressive features, well developed, unlike
ours, yet less unlike them than the other inhabitants of the Nile
valley. But more frightful creatures than the women of these nomads
there surely cannot be on earth. Of course I speak only of those who
have passed the spring-time of their life. They are lean beyond all
conception, and as haggard as their goats would be if shorn of their
hair, which alone gives any roundness to their gaunt frames. There is
nothing about them even of that natural delicacy of many savages which
makes the children of the desert appear like the gazelle, which is
clean, though it never bathes. Physically and morally they are
loathsome; toothless, mangy, inquisitive, and chattering; in a word,
they are the very incorporation of the infirmities of senility.

From this place it required an energetic march of twenty leagues to
reach the first well on the confines of the Nile-valley. The road, now
formed by numerous pathways running closely side by side like
cattle-ruts, crossed a great boulder flat in a W.S.W. direction. The
pack-camels proceeded side by side in phalanx, as upon the open lands
they rarely march in single file. There were sandy water-courses ever
and again intersecting our way, and groups of hills meeting the eye in
the horizon.

[Illustration: Aboo-Odfa.]

[Sidenote: MONUMENT OF NATURE.]

On leaving O-Baek we had next to traverse the plains extending to the
west of the wells; formed of the finest quicksand, blown up into hills
often as high as a house, these sands were a considerable impediment
to the camels. From the dreary waste of the plain with its loose black
rocks, jutted up a solitary block of granite, to which the Bedouins
give the suggestive name of “Eremit.” An hour’s journey further on
there appeared, above the plain by the right of the road, another
isolated mass of granite, one of those landmarks visible from afar,
which, after the weariness of the desert journey, is ever greeted
gratefully by the eye of the long-tried traveller. It is a natural
stone obelisk, 35 feet high, in its singular shape resembling an
inverted pear or fig. The block is narrow at the base, and evidently
in the course of time has been worn away by the action of the sand as
it has been driven by the wind.[5] This monument, the unhewn
production of nature itself, is called by the natives Aboo-Odfa, Odfa
being the name of a saddle covered with a canopy which is used for
women on the camel. Smaller blocks of similar conformation are not
unfrequently met with at other parts of the road.

On the grassy bottom of Aboo-Kolod, where, in consequence of the late
rain, great pools had formed themselves, we made our last night camp
but one. The slopes had all the characteristics of being on the level
of the Nile at Berber, whilst the remainder of the road again ascends.
The last wady is Aboo-Selem; it was at that time one unbroken
sorghum-field, its fruitful soil was already cultivated by the
industrious inhabitants of the Nile valley, although the recurrence of
the rain would permit the culture only at intervals. At length on the
7th of October we entered the town of Berber. Without loss of time I
found a boat on which to continue my journey to Khartoom.

Whilst I encamped at Berber, pending my embarkation on the Nile, I had
been unconsciously put into a position of some jeopardy. The native of
Dongola who accompanied me as my servant, in order to find the safest
place he could to secure the prohibited wares of a Greek merchant from
the eyes of the police, had, without my knowledge, concealed under my
tent a considerable quantity of gunpowder and other explosive
materials. Whilst the fellow was away on a visit to town, I had
unsuspiciously kindled a fire on the loose sandy soil, in order to
perform my cooking operations, little dreaming of the peril which
happily I escaped.

[Sidenote: HOSPITALITY.]

My old acquaintance, M. Lafargue, who was settled in Berber as a
merchant and presided over the French Vice-consulate, himself an
experienced traveller on the Upper Nile, received me with that hearty
hospitality which many other desert wanderers have proved besides
myself. Sir Samuel Baker aptly compares such receptions to the oasis
in the desert. No necessity of letters of introduction here as with us
in Europe; no hollow forms of speech, exchanging courtesies which
perchance mean the very reverse; no empty compliment of at best a
tedious dinner; but here in Egypt the people receive us with free and
genial amiability, all Europeans are fellow citizens and everything is
true and hearty. “What pleases me the most is the ease with which you
travel in this country; you come, you go, you return again, as though
it were a walk.” Such were M. Lafargue’s cordial words to me. We
parted well pleased with one another: I shall not see him again.

About the last part of the journey to Khartoom, which embraces the
passage up the Nile, and which is sufficiently well known by the
descriptions of other travellers, I have nothing new to relate. By the
complete failure of wind, much of this portion of my journey was so
exceptionally prolonged, that it took sixteen days to accomplish the
whole. For the first part of the voyage, as far as Shendy and Matamma,
the only considerable towns in this district, the shore offered
nothing attractive. It reminded me of the Egyptian valley of the Nile
only in two places; the mouth of the Atbara, and one spot where the
renowned pyramids of Meroe formed a noble background.

Matamma is a populous town, but extremely slow and dull. The
buildings, constructed of Nile earth, are insignificant in themselves,
and irregularly crowded together in a mass like huge ant-hills; not a
single tree affords its shade to the dreary streets, which are filthy
with dirt.

The _ennui_ and the calm which obliged us to lay to here, suggested
all sorts of unprofitable vagaries to my servant Arbab. He received
from me part of his wages, and took a wife on the spot from amongst
the circle of his kinsfolk. The bride, two days afterwards, was given
back to herself and her relations, to await indefinitely, for a year
and a day, the expected return of her husband. Arbab had already been
several times married in Khartoom; and at every return he repeated the
same usual, one may almost say, the becoming custom.

The second half of the Nile voyage was, however, rich in the charms of
scenery. This is especially applicable to the views afforded by the
river islands. These islands are so many throughout the whole extent
of the sixth cataract, between the island of Marnad and the lofty
mountain-island of Rowyan, that no one pretends to know their precise
number, and the sailors call them, in consequence, the ninety-nine
islands. This excursion offers to the traveller a most attractive
prospect, and the landscapes on shore afford a treat which no other
river voyage could surpass. Splendid groups of acacias, in three
varieties, with groves of the holy-thorn, overgrown by the hanging
foliage of graceful climbers, made the profusion of islands set in the
surface of the water appear like bright-green luxuriant and gay
tangles. Wildly romantic, on the contrary, reminding one of the
Binger-loch, are the valley-straits of Sablook, where the Nile,
narrowed to a small mountain stream, flows between high bare granite
walls which rise some hundred feet.

So much the more surprising appeared the breadth which the Nile
exhibits above this cataract, where it displays itself in a majesty
which it has long lost in Egypt. Below their confluence, the waters of
the Blue and the White Nile are distinctly visible many miles apart.
It is highly probable that at certain times the level of the streams
might show a difference of several feet; the proposed establishment of
a Nilometer should therefore take place below the confluence, in order
that with the help of the telegraph accurate intelligence of its
condition might be remitted to Cairo.

[Sidenote: PITIABLE CONDITION OF NUBIANS.]

In the Nubian Nile-valley all charm is gone. Extremely wretched is the
aspect of the country, and equally pitiable are its present social
conditions. In the course of the last ten years, as a consequence,
first, of the increased taxation, and secondly, of the diminished
production, matters have continually become worse and worse. To the
cursory glance of a traveller only a small proportion of this
deep-rooted misery may be disclosed; he may perceive the consequences,
without being able to assign the reasons; and from the contradictory
statements of the inhabitants, he can hardly form a clear idea of the
real condition of the country. On the other hand, the complaints of
the people give him an incomplete representation of the circumstances,
unless he at the same time takes notice of the objections which the
Government appears justified in raising against them. Only a thorough
knowledge of the country combined with local study would put him in a
position to form an opinion. In spite of everything, the fact remains
that the culture of the soil is declining, that scarcity is everywhere
on the increase, and that distress is consequently more frequent. In
the last two months of this year’s harvest, the market price of a
rup[6] of sorghum-corn had risen to a Maria Theresa dollar. Three
years before, large villages had been pointed out to me, lying
completely deserted on account of the emigration of the inhabitants,
and now again similar evidence of distress was forced upon my notice.
In the district between Damer and Shendy, the population seemed
utterly scared at the increasing emigrations. The unmarried men go to
Khartoom in order to be enlisted as so-called soldiers by the
merchants on the Upper Nile. The elder people, on the other hand,
leave their culture, and with a few sheep or goats endeavour to lead a
meagre nomad life as shepherds in the steppes and deserts.

On the 1st of November, at midday, we at last reached Khartoom, and
landed on the bank, which was all alive with hundreds of boats. The
German Vice-consul, Herr Duisberg, who had shown me so much kindness
at the time of my former visit, again received me most hospitably. In
his elegant and commodious house, I had every opportunity for rest and
refreshment in anticipation of my coming labours.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [3] These appear to belong to the same species which
     Wellsted (‘Travels to the City of the Caliphs,’ vol. ii.
     p. 286) observed on the island of Socotra and (‘Travels in
     Arabia,’ vol. ii. p. 449) on the south coast of Arabia.

     [4] The accompanying plate gives a faithful representation
     of the stiff forms of the dracænæ, surrounded by the still
     more rigid complications of rocks in the height of the
     pass. In the illustration, besides the dracæna, may be seen
     the Kolkwal-euphorbiæ, and in the right hand corner the
     Caraïb.

     [5] The sketch on the preceding page is taken carefully
     from nature.

     [6] The rup is a measure equal in weight to seven and a
     half litres, or about five oka, and containing under two
     English gallons.




                              CHAPTER II.

  Kind reception in Khartoom. Dyafer Pasha, the Governor-General.
     Contract with Ghattas. Herr W. Duisberg. Ivory trade at
     Khartoom. Khartoom possessions in the negro countries. Departure
     from Khartoom. Manning of the boat. Construction of the
     Khartoom boats. First night on the White Nile. Character of
     the landscape. Washing away of the east bank. Fertility of the
     country on the west. Acacia forests. Herds of the Hassanieh.
     Numerous hippopotamuses. Geese and ducks. Beginning of the
     wilderness. The Ambatch-wood. First day of ill-luck. Running
     over a wild buffalo. Baggara Arabs. Brethren in the faith. The
     mountain Nyemati. Evening gossip about pygmies. Native Egyptian
     cultivated plants. Buffalos alarming the Baggara. Mohammed Kher,
     the robber chief. Impressions on the first sight of savages.
     Boat attacked by bees. Frightful agony. Gadflies. Giant snails.
     A man carries three canoes. Repair of the sail-yard. Fashoda the
     most southern military station. Fifteen Shillooks at a shot. Gay
     temperament of the people. Gun accidents. African giant snakes.


In Egypt, in well-informed circles, it was a current opinion that the
Government was trying, on principle, to throw impediments in the way
of any explorers who might purpose penetrating the district of the
Upper Nile. It was supposed that they were desirous of preventing the
circulation, by eye-witnesses, of adverse reports, and of keeping back
from the eyes of the world any undesirable details as to the position
of matters with reference to the slave trade. They were unwilling to
let it be seen that their influence over the people of Khartoom was
insufficient for the suppression of the slave traffic amongst them.
Under this impression I entered upon my journey with some misgiving,
entertaining no very sanguine hopes as to the real utility of the
order delivered to me for the Governor-General of Khartoom, who at
that time was administering affairs with considerable vigour in all
the provinces of the Soudan under the Egyptian dominion above the
first cataract.

So much the more grateful, therefore, was my surprise when,
immediately after my arrival in Khartoom, I was honoured by a visit
from the powerful Dyafer Pasha, and, after the first few words,
satisfied myself that there was a reasonable expectation that, on this
occasion, the local government would do all within their power to
secure the most complete protection to a scientific expedition.

My letter of recommendation from the Academy was afterwards read in
the Government divan. It was fluently translated, sentence by
sentence, into Arabic by the physician in ordinary, and the Pasha at
once declared that he would be the Vokil, that is to say, the manager
of affairs, for the Academy of Berlin, and promised that he would not
fail to afford me the necessary assistance for my journey. How
faithfully he kept his word is well known, and on that account the
thanks of the Academy of Science were formally presented to him.
Dyafer had been an old captain of a frigate in the stirring times of
Mohammed Ali; he was a man of considerable attainments, and had
already become known to me on the occasion of my first journey, when
he acted as Governor of Upper Egypt. In his house were seen piles of
atlases and anatomical plates; he was not wanting in a clear
comprehension of, nor indeed in an actual interest in, my undertaking.
He expressed his hope that my journey might accomplish its aim, and if
anything of material benefit should be discovered that it might not be
reserved, but freely communicated to the State. I assured him that the
Royal Academy had no narrow views, and that he might be certain that
although I trusted by prosecuting science to gain credit for myself, I
should not overlook anything that might be honourable to him, or for
the advantage of his Government. The Pasha seemed gratified by my
reply, and referred me to the writers, who were to settle the various
covenants of my agreement with an ivory trader, Ghattas, a Coptic
Christian. The Governor-General himself had arranged the terms, and I
could find little in their tenor that would be adverse to my
interests.

[Sidenote: PRELIMINARY COVENANTS.]

Besides Ghattas, there were several other merchants in Khartoom, who
possessed large settlements in the district of the Upper Nile, but he
alone amongst them was not a Mahommedan; the others were, for the most
part, true Osmanlis, whose reputation, with respect to slave dealing,
did not stand too high. Thus the choice of the administrator fell upon
the unlucky Ghattas, who, being also the richest of all, was required
to become surety against any misadventure that might occur to the
traveller in the interior. If he were betrayed to the cannibals, or if
he were left in the lurch among savages and cut-throats, so much the
better for the treasury of the Government, who would have the most
legitimate reasons for proceeding to the confiscation of his estates.

I should fail to discharge a duty of gratitude if I were to omit to
acknowledge the interest displayed in behalf of my enterprise by Herr
Duisberg, who was at that time Vice-consul of the North German
Confederation in Khartoom. Not only did he entertain me most
hospitably for several weeks in his house, but likewise exerted all
his influence on his friends the ivory-traders, so as to dispose them
favourably to my undertaking, and to relieve them from any fear of
interference on my part with their affairs.

Notwithstanding any prejudice which might attach to him as the leader
of the Protestant mission, the Vice-consul had gained the esteem of
all parties in Khartoom, and was especially in favour with the
Governor-General, who very thoroughly appreciated his integrity. His
conciliating manners availed to satisfy the Khartoom merchants that my
plan was not adverse to their interests. Hitherto they had looked upon
every scientific traveller as a dangerous spy, whose visit only aimed
at denouncing their transactions on the Upper Nile, and reporting them
to the Consul-General in Egypt. On this occasion they consented to
meet me at a sumptuous entertainment given by Herr Duisberg before my
departure. All the gentry of the town, Pashas and Beys, glittering
with their stars and orders, and merchants, in their gorgeous satin
robes, gathered together at that feast of reconciliation between the
representatives of African commerce and of European science.

The entire ivory trade of Khartoom is in the hands of six larger
merchants, with whom are associated a dozen more whose business is on
a smaller scale. For years the annual export of ivory has not exceeded
the value of 500,000 Maria Theresa dollars. There has been a continual
decrease in the yield of ivory from the territory adjacent to the
river, so that last year, even that sum would not have been
maintained, unless the expeditions had, season after season, been
penetrating deeper into the more remote districts of the interior. It
is a fallacy to suppose that the pursuit of elephants is merely a
secondary consideration in these enterprises of the Khartoom
merchants, or that it only serves as a cloke to disguise the far more
lucrative slave trade. These two occupations have far less to do with
one another than is frequently supposed. If it had not been for the
high value of ivory, the countries about the sources of the Nile would
even now be as little unfolded to us as the equatorial centre of the
great continent: they are regions which of themselves could produce
absolutely nothing to remunerate transport. The settlements owe their
original existence to the ivory trade; but it must, on the other hand,
be admitted that these settlements in various ways have facilitated
the operations of the regular slave-traders. Without these depôts the
professional slave-traders could never have penetrated so far, whilst
now they are enabled to pour themselves into the negro countries
annually by thousands, on the roads over Kordofan and Darfur.

[Sidenote: MERCHANT SERIBAS.]

The merchants of Khartoom, to whom I have alluded, maintain a great
number of settlements in districts as near as possible to the present
ivory countries, and among peaceful races devoted to agriculture. They
have apportioned the territory amongst themselves, and have brought
the natives to a condition of vassalage. Under the protection of an
armed guard procured from Khartoom, they have established various
depôts, undertaken expeditions into the interior, and secured an
unmolested transit to and fro. These depôts for ivory, ammunition,
barter-goods, and means of subsistence, are villages surrounded by
palisades, and are called Seribas.[7] Every Khartoom merchant, in the
different districts where he maintains his settlements, is represented
by a superintendent and a number of subordinate agents. These agents
command the armed men of the country, determine what products the
subjected natives must pay by way of impost to support the guards, as
well as the number of bearers they must furnish for the distant
exploring expeditions; they appoint and displace the local managers;
carry on war or strike alliances with the chiefs of the ivory
countries, and once a year remit the collected stores to Khartoom.

Both the principal districts of the Khartoom ivory trade are
accessible by the navigation of the two source-affluents together
forming the White Nile, viz. the Bahr-el-Ghazal and the Bahr-el-Gebel.
The name Bahr-el-Abiad is understood in Khartoom to include the entire
domain of the Nile and its affluents above this town, but in its true
and more limited sense it signifies only the united mainstream as far
as the mouth of the Sobat, “White Nile.” Two less important centres
are approached by the channels of the Sobat and the Giraffe. The
landing-places, called Meshera, are in all cases at a distance of some
days’ journey from the depôts. The trade winds and the rainy seasons
both have their effect in determining the time of year in which
progress can be made. They render the passage up stream practicable
only from December to January, and limit the valley journey to June,
July, and August. On the Bahr-el-Gebel the extreme point of navigation
is the well-known Gondokoro in lat 5° N., the termination of a series
of voyages of discovery. On the Bahr-el-Ghazal a kind of _cul-de-sac_
leads to the only existing Meshera. Beyond this, the Khartoom people
have already advanced 5° in a southerly, as well as in a westerly
direction. In the district of the Gazelle River, the Niam-niam
countries form a great source of the ivory-produce; of the ways which
were available, this was the direction which appeared to promise the
best opening for the prosecution of my object. Accordingly, I
determined to proceed by the Gazelle, and concluded my contract with
the Coptic Ghattas. He engaged to supply the means of subsistence, and
to furnish me with bearers and an adequate number of armed men. He
also placed at my disposal a boat for the journey, and it was
expressly stipulated that I should be at liberty to join all the
enterprises and excursions of his own people.

The Governor-General laid similar obligations for my protection on all
the other chief merchants who had possessions in the territory of the
Gazelle. Duplicates of all the agreements were prepared; one copy
being retained by me, the counterparts were deposited with the local
government at Khartoom. After these necessary provisions for my
security had been adjusted, there was nothing now to hinder me from
commencing my real journey. Never before had the Egyptian Government
done so much indirectly to co-operate with a scientific traveller; and
it was with no little satisfaction that I regarded my budget of
documents, which would unlock for me so considerable a section of
Central Africa.

[Sidenote: EMBARKATION ON THE WHITE NILE.]

In order to have continually about me a number of people upon whose
fidelity and attachment I might fairly rely under all circumstances, I
took into my service six Nubians, who had settled in Khartoom with
their wives and children, and who resided there, and had already
travelled in different parts of the Upper Nile. All had previously
served under other Europeans. Riharn, the cook, had accompanied the
Consul Petherick on his ill-fated journey of 1863. Their conduct in no
way disappointed me, and I had never any serious cause of complaint
against any of them.

At last, all preparations had so far prospered that the journey to the
Gazelle River might be commenced on the 5th of January 1869. A little
concession had, however, to be made to the superstitious
representations of the Khartoom people. Wednesday and Saturday, as
days of ill-omen, were excluded from the times of departure. Somehow
or other this introduced a parley which entailed a little delay.
Protestations, I knew, availed but little, and my common sense
suggested unconditional submission to the custom of the country. Not
simply was it impossible to convince the people of the absurdity of
any superstition of theirs, but what was of more moment, they would be
sure, on the very first occasion of any mischance, to attribute it to
the perverseness of the Frank. They would have looked idly and
helplessly on if I had persisted in carrying out my will in opposition
to the decrees of fate.

On board our little vessel we altogether counted thirty-two, a number
small in comparison with that in the other boats. The total number,
however, did not admit of much reduction. No boat’s crew alone could
suffice to overcome the obstacles which were to be expected in the
waters further up the country.

The merchant Ghattas, to whom the boat belonged, had manned it with
eight boatmen, and had also put on board fifteen hired men to serve,
partly as a protection against any attacks, and partly to assist in
towing the boats. The soldiers, as they were called, were for the most
part young, and were originally inhabitants of the valley of the Upper
Nile, between Berber and Khartoom, but from whence they had been
driven to escape on account of the heavy taxation. Since agriculture
hardly kept them from misery and starvation, they preferred to hire
themselves out as robbers, slave-hunters, cattle-stealers, or whatever
could enable them to gratify the innate propensity for adventure which
belongs to every Nubian. Besides the six Nubians engaged in Khartoom,
my own retinue included two women slaves, whose hand labour supplied
the want of mills; their office, performed by means of stones, was to
convert our corn into the flour requisite for the maintenance of the
crew. We were packed closely enough; cramped up, we appeared like
cattle in a pew, yet our accommodation was comparatively spacious.
Other boats I saw of which the dimensions were hardly larger than our
own, and which were made to carry sometimes sixty, sometimes eighty
human beings. But even this was a trifling repletion as compared with
the boats we met, and which, in a hold of not more than fifty tons,
often stowed away 200 slaves. The crew squat like hens on shelves
outstretched upon deck between mast and mast; and in order to afford
the soldiers rest by night, the vessels lie-to whenever the shore is
safe.

A rough wooden partition erected at the stern of the bulky vessel was
assigned to me as my special berth. I had arranged it as well as I
could, and sat there surrounded, in charming confusion, by baggage and
trunks, and the thousand articles which made up my equipment. The
boats which are used upon the upper waters of the Nile are called
“negger;” their construction, I believe, is unlike what can be seen in
any other country of the world. They are as strong as they are
massive, being built so as to withstand the violent pushings of the
hippopotamuses, as well as the collisions with the mussel banks, which
are scattered in various directions. I am certain that one of these
boats at any maritime exhibition would attract the attention of all
who take any interest in such things. I am not aware that there is
anything accurate to be found in any history of travel on this
subject, and it may be permitted me therefore to insert a few
particulars of the Khartoom ship-building.

[Sidenote: SHIP-BUILDING AT KHARTOOM.]

There can be no question that the ship-building on the Red Sea, just
like the architecture of the towns along its coast, is of Indian
origin, all the timber required in Arabia being procured from India.
At Khartoom, on the contrary, this art, although in many respects it
has peculiarities of its own, has been derived from an Egyptian
source. Taking their own special requirements into account, the
boat-builders of Egypt have completely altered the structure and shape
of their river boats. It must be borne in mind that the recurring
cataracts, which interrupt the navigation of the Nubian Nile valley,
rendered any ascent of the river a matter of difficulty, demanding
indeed the most strenuous exertions. The cataracts are ten in number,
and only recently have they been overcome by some small steam vessels
of about 60-horse power. The only wood which is used in Khartoom for
ship-building is that of the Sunt acacia (_A. nilotica_), which,
though far heavier and harder than our oak, is the only wood which the
soil of the Soudan supplies, which appears capable of being sawn into
planks. But on account of the irregular texture and numerous branches
of the trunk of this acacia, it is impossible to cut it into boards
more than ten feet in length, and even these are rare. Masts and
sail-yards, since those of deal seldom reach Khartoom, and then are of
an exorbitant price, must be made by splicing together a number of
small pieces. Externally these are bound with ox hide; but in violent
gales they are extremely liable to start. Not only does the wood fail
to be either straight or long, it is also so hard, that it requires to
be sawn while it is green. The saw is an instrument so rarely employed
throughout Nubia, that it is handled most unskilfully by the
carpenters; as matter of course, there are neither steam-mills nor
water-mills in Khartoom, and consequently the planks are cut without
the faintest pretence to regularity.

All these defects are, however, cancelled by the unexampled toughness
and indestructible nature of the wood; it might fairly be asked from
what other material could boats 60 feet long and 20 feet broad be
constructed without ribs or braces. The sides of the boat are a foot
thick, and are formed of layers of different lengths, which acquire
stability and firmness from their own support. An empty boat, seen
from inside, has somewhat the appearance of an elongated shell of half
a hazel-nut. The planks, where they overlap or are dove-tailed
together, are fastened by iron nails driven in perpendicularly, the
necessary holes being bored from the outer to the inner surfaces in
such a way that the same nail holds together two, or occasionally
more, thicknesses of wood. In this manner, with much trouble and more
measuring, is obtained the proper curvature of the hull, which, as a
whole, is marked by a complete symmetry. The cost of the stout iron
nails, and the rapid wear of axe and saw, make the expenses of
building these boats so considerable that they amount to five times as
much as oak vessels of the same size in Europe. A mast about 20 feet
high bears the giant-yard of the single lateen sail, which is
generally half as long again as the boat.

[Sidenote: NIGHT ON THE RIVER.]

Amid the farewell salutations of a large concourse, among which my
people counted numerous friends and relations, we pushed off from the
shore. Without delay we took our onward course to the mouth of the
Blue Nile, doubling the Ras-el-Khartoom, that large promontory, which
resembles in form the snout of an animal; it gives its name to the
town, and is the partition land between the two arms of the Nile.
Bulky and ponderous as was our boat, the power of the north wind laid
its hold upon our giant-sail, and carried us with the speed of steam
towards the south. On the forenoon of the following day we found
ourselves already 1° below the latitude of Khartoom. We sailed,
without staying our course, through the night, which was cheered by
the moonlight. I was sleepless with excitement at finding myself at
last brought irrevocably to the attainment of my cherished hopes. The
universal quiet was only broken by the rush of the bilge-water, and
now and then by the cry of the water-birds. Shrouded like mummies in
their white garments lay the crew, closely packed upon the narrow
deck; and altogether there was something spectral in the stillness of
the nocturnal voyage.

As the morning sun fell upon the low monotonous shores of the flowing
river, it seemed at times almost as though it were illuminating the
ocean, so vast was the extent of water where the current ran for any
distance in a straight and unwinding course. Low levels, that seemed
interminable, only marked out from the land beyond by narrow belts of
trees, formed the framework of the scene. The borders of the desert
rise and fall in gentle undulations, on which stand, sometimes
scantily and sometimes thickly, groups of Haras and Seyal acacias. The
vegetation which is visible demonstrates the complete desert character
of Nubia. The shooshgrass (_Panicum turgidum_), the most general of
herbage for the camels, is here trodden down in masses.

The voyage up the White Nile has been very frequently described by
various travellers. The districts along the shore mostly retain an
unchanging aspect for miles together. Barely does some distant
mountain or isolated hill relieve the eye from the wide monotony. In
spite of all, there was no lack of interest. There is much that cannot
fail to make the progress ever striking and impressive.

The attention is soon attracted by the astonishing number of geese and
ducks which are seen day after day. The traveller in these parts is so
satiated with them, fattened and roasted, that the sight creates
something akin to disgust. The number of cattle is prodigious: far as
the eye can reach they are scattered alike on either shore, whilst,
close at hand, they come down to the river-marshes to get their drink.
The stream, as wide again as the Nile of Egypt, is enlivened by the
boats belonging to the shepherds, who row hither and thither to
conduct their cattle, their dogs in the water swimming patiently
behind.

Early on the third day we reached Getina, a considerable village
inhabited by Hassanieh, and which is a favourite rendezvous of the
Nile-boats. The flats here were bright with the luxuriant green of the
sedge; growing abundantly as it does, it serves to impart to the banks
the meadow-like character of northern tracts. Thousands of geese
(_Chenalopex ægyptiacus_), in no degree disconcerted by the arrival of
any stranger, waddled up and down. Although in places the right bank
is bounded by sand-banks thirty feet high, the left appears completely
and interminably flat, and occasionally admits of the culture of
sorghum. This remarkable difference which exists between the aspect of
the two banks, and which may be observed for several degrees, is to be
explained by a hydrographical law, which is illustrated not only here,
but likewise in the district of the Lower Nile. As rivers flow from
southerly into more northern latitudes, their fluid particles are set
in motion with increased velocity, the result of which is to drive
them onwards so as to wash away the eastern bank, leaving a continual
deposit on the west.

This phenomenon, which may be just as plainly perceived on several of
the great rivers of Europe, is, as might be expected, presented here
on a large scale, where the Nile retains its northerly direction along
a course which extends over a third part of the earth’s quadrant.
Hence it has arisen that the cultivated fields lie more generally upon
the western shore, while the eastern gives a deeper fairway, and is
found dotted at intervals with settled villages. Hardly ever does the
fairway deviate from the eastern shore, and the evident depression of
the shore has led several travellers to suspect that they have
discovered a proof of the continuous sloping of the land, which, in
truth, is only apparent.

It will be understood, therefore, how great a mistake is made in
attempting to estimate, as many of my predecessors have done, the
degree of productiveness of the country by the sandy levels and
starving fields on the right bank. As matter of fact, the White Nile
is enriched by an alluvium which would be quite as fruitful as that of
the Blue Nile, except that it is wanting in the crumbling clay, which
is the product of the volcanic mountains of Abyssinia, and which
undoubtedly exercises a most beneficial influence on the results of
Egyptian agriculture. Here the soil is not only rich, it is remarkable
for its lightness; and, probably from the absence of chalk, it has a
warmer, brighter colour than generally marks the Nubian or Egyptian
land.

Towards midday the wind had so much increased that our Reis let the
boat drift without sail against the stream. The progress we thus made
was surprising: then as the gale gradually fell, we ventured to unfurl
our sail, till the speed we reached was like that of an arrow over the
waters. We drove through the midst of the flocks of geese which came
athwart our course, and firing at random caught up as many of the
wounded as came within our grasp. Towards the close of the day we
reached Wod-Shellay.

[Sidenote: WOD-SHELLAY.]

Wod-Shellay is one of the favourite resting-places of all voyagers
upon the Nile. Here, according to custom, an ox was slaughtered,[8]
and a formal leave was taken of the Mohammedan world, by liberal
draughts of merissa beer. This leave-taking had to be repeated more
than once. We were told that higher up the stream there were no more
villages, but somehow or other opportunities were found, either on
pretext of making purchases or of looking at old friends, on which it
became necessary to have some more parting cups of merissa beer.
Subject to these delays, I lost considerable time frequently in
insipid dreariness, where neither scenes nor men could excite my
interest.

After making a complete day of rest at Wod-Shellay, I crossed over to
the western shore on a brief excursion. I entered some villages at a
distance from the Nile and gained some information as to the condition
of their agriculture. Wide, though much thinned, forests of the Sunt
acacia (_A. nilotica_ and _arabica_) cover the districts near the
shore; further on there was a wide extent of cultivated flat. The soil
is a stiffish ash-grey clay, different from that of Egypt, but not
inferior in fertility—an opinion which Sir Samuel Baker, not
investigating the west and being acquainted only with the sandy east,
has ventured to deny.

A large yellow-grained variety of _Sorghum vulgare_, known in the
Khartoom markets as “soffra,” thrives here in such perfection that but
few ears came under my notice which were not at least nine inches long
and more than four in diameter; convincing evidence to me of the
fruitful nature of the ground.

I was accompanied by Arslan, a great sheep-dog, which I had brought
with me from Europe, and in all the villages through which I passed
the inhabitants, as I advanced, scampered off in terror, crying
“Hyæna, hyæna!” It was difficult to make them understand that the
brown-spotted animal was only a dog. I do not think I know a country
where the dread of great dogs is so universal as in the Soudan.

But a few years ago unlimited forests here met the stranger’s eye; the
large demand for timber for ship-building purposes, however, has all
but destroyed them. At Wod-Shellay, in Mohammed Ali’s time, the
Government maintained a large dock, on which were built the numerous
boats which that enterprising ruler sent out into the upper districts;
at present there is a similar establishment higher up the stream upon
the Isle of Aba, where the stores of wood are awhile secured to meet
the demands of the future. Scarcely one tree out of a hundred yields
timber suitable for building: and all along the bank the owners like
to pay their taxes by means of wood instead of money; the consequence
naturally is that the best trees are prematurely lost and that old
trees are comparatively rare. The steamboat service on these waters is
much assisted by the inexhaustible supply of fuel which is everywhere
to be procured along the banks.

[Sidenote: MOUNT ARRASH-KOL.]

Our voyage was next continued, through the night, as far as a
watering-place on the western shore, near which lay the village of
Turra. We lay-to in sight of the neighbouring mountain Arrash-kol.

The hippopotamuses now became more frequent; their noise, gurgling,
and snorting was heard far over the waters, and grated as harshly on
the ear as the incessant creaking of our own rudder. The traveller up
the White Nile must accustom himself to this, or he has no hope of an
undisturbed night’s rest.

The western shores, which are marked by rows of acacias almost as
though arranged in avenues, have nothing African in their aspect,
chiefly on account of the absence of the palm, that chief ornament of
the tropics; they rather remind of what may be seen in the
thinly-populated districts beside the Volga and other of the streams
of Russia. The Arrash-kol is an isolated mountain some hundred feet
high, of which the jagged steeps jut up from the uniform level. It is
well known to botanists through the treasures which were gathered
there thirty years ago by the traveller Kotschy. Time did not permit
me to investigate the country from this interesting centre. I was
obliged to content myself with a trip to the village of Turra, two
leagues away.

No idea can be formed of the number of cattle all hereabouts; the
route leads over continual watering-places, where herds of cattle,
varying in number from 1000 to 3000, are assembled, and form a most
striking spectacle. The cattle of the Hassanieh are distinguished by a
hump, and are of a race peculiar to the whole of the Soudan, having
beyond a doubt some close affinity to the Indian zebu. The ox of the
Egyptians, which, in consequence of the cattle-plague in 1863-64, has
almost entirely died out, has no hump. Its horns are short, and it
differs in the shape of its skull from the ox of the Soudan; the breed
has survived only in Central Nubia. In girth and height, not only do
the cattle of the Hassanieh exceed the Egyptian, but those which I
shall have occasion to mention hereafter as belonging to the Baggara
Arabs, surpass the breeds which are kept by the pagan negroes of the
Upper Nile. Amongst the Shillooks and Dinka, for instance, the light
grey colour predominates, whilst the marking of the skin in the
majority of those of which we speak is like a spotted leopard, black
specks on a lightish ground; but neither are the white and brown, the
piebald, nor coats entirely dun-colour, at all unfrequent.

I was conducted through the fragrant wood of the flowering acacia to a
place where a little weekly market had gathered the neatherds of the
neighbourhood, and where milk flowed in streams. The Hassanieh do not
differ externally from the score of other nomad races which, more or
less Arabised, inhabit the steppes and deserts on both sides of the
Nile. They appeared to me far more confiding than my old friends the
Bishareen and Hadendoa, but perhaps for the reason that, speaking good
Arabic, they were able to contribute their part to a good
understanding on both sides. They crowded round me everywhere to gaze
at my strange big dog, and I was repeatedly obliged to give a history
in detail of his genealogy, his qualities, and all about him. Being in
possession of a splendid race of greyhounds, which they train for
gazelle hunting, and of which they have a high opinion, their interest
was raised to the highest pitch. The dogs smelt strongly; and it is no
exaggeration to say, so did the men.

[Sidenote: AFRICAN NOVELTIES.]

The graceful shade acacias (_A. spirocarpa_) here come once again into
the front, soon to be finally lost sight of on the other side of the
neighbouring desert. Along the right bank there were many masses of a
large-leaved shrub, which covers the country, and for miles disputes
the precedence with all the prevailing vegetation; it is the _Ipomæa
asarifolia_, appearing in some places like rose bushes in the
luxuriant adornment of its ample blossoms, a bright relief to the
general dreariness of the shore.

Our voyage is again continued by night; the channel is broad and deep;
freely we sail throughout the hours of darkness. The noise of the
hippopotamuses is the chief disturbance; it seems as if there is no
relief from their tumult. It almost seemed as if they were quite close
about us, but one had but to look around, and their clumsy heads were
visible in the distance, projecting like black points above the
stream. By way of variety there came, at intervals, the roar of some
lion prowling on the bank. Such were the novelties of Africa.

In the morning we passed Dueme, one of the largest villages in this
district. Soon we reached the groups of little islands whose soil,
naturally fertile, has been successfully subject to a recent
cultivation. It is a cheering sign of the progress of cultivation in
these regions, to see the fellaheen of Nubia travelling continually
further and further up the banks of the White Nile. The passive
population of blacks on the river, at least in the space of a few
decades, has been partly displaced, and partly spurred on to greater
energy; and doubtless, therefore, there are many places in Nubia
itself capable of being cultivated, which have become desolate only as
a consequence of the oppressiveness of a heavy taxation.

The flocks of geese were still unending, and every expedient was
resorted to to make a variety in the way of cooking them; they were
stuffed with rice; they were dressed with tomato sauce; they were
served with mushrooms; and when every imaginable way of preparing them
was exhausted, we had recourse, by way of variety, to the ducks (_Anas
viduata_) which were obtainable. Then was the golden age of my
_cuisine_. Our provisions were ample, and the inventive faculties of
my cook Riharn turned them all to the best account. But different
times were yet to come, times when Riharn must murmur that the three
years of his life spent in Shepherd’s Hotel in Cairo had all been
sacrificed, and must repine that he could find no scope for his
abilities in Central Africa. The result of all this was, that he was a
terrible backslider in his art, and at the end of three years could
never cook a dish of rice without burning it.

A few days after our departure I had made the unpleasant discovery
that the prudent Ghattas, to whom the vessel belonged, with an eye to
economy, had put on board, without due protection, all his powder and
a year’s supply of the cartridges necessary for the expedition. In
order to save the expense of proper chests he had wrapped up several
hundredweight of these combustibles loosely in sacks of matting and
paper parcels only, and piled them up just under the entrance to my
cabin, where I was accustomed to sit smoking my pipe and surveying the
land. I had now thrown a cowhide across this explosive heap, and so
secured that the smoking and the contemplation might be resumed with
greater composure on my part.

On the same day we reached the Egyptian military station Kowa, or
El-Ais, at which there is a large Government corn-store. El-Ais was
for years the extreme southern boundary of the State. Passing through
it is a much frequented road, which crosses the White as well as the
Blue Nile, and unites Kordofan with Abyssinia. Along this road the
Baggara fetch most of their horses, which they buy by auction in the
market of Gallabat.

Directly above Kowa begins the region of the Shillook Islands, which,
as yet unthinned by the axe, are very valuable. A little further up
the stream, following the outline of the banks, stretches a series of
Nubian agricultural settlement. At one of these goodly islands, known
as Om-mandeb, we stayed our course awhile. Mandeb is the name here
given to the prickliest of prickly plants, the _Mimosa asperata_;
transplanted by the stream, it is occasionally found even as far off
as Egypt, but here it surrounds the island shore, and forms a hedge of
impenetrable thorns. Here in a wild state is the water melon, and I
have submitted proofs that the cradle of this nursling of culture lies
in Africa, the original home of the domestic cat and of the ass.

[Sidenote: ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE LIFE.]

A rich variety of animal life is developed in this wilderness; not
only did the shore swarm with hippopotamuses, whose vestiges were like
deep pit-holes, but the ground was scooped out in places vacated by
rows of crocodiles, which now basked only thirty paces in our front.
Great iguanas (_Varanus_) and snakes rustled in the dry grass.
Everywhere under the trees were snake skins and egg shells; above in
the branches was heard the commotion of the mischievous monkeys
(_Cercopithecus griseoviridus_), whilst birds of many a species,
eagles from giant nests, and hosts of fluttering water-fowl, gave
incessant animation to the scenery of the shore.

What, however, most interested me, was the unlimited variety in the
kinds of water plants which abounded on the floods, the sport of the
winds and waves. Among them the Herminiera, known under the native
name of ambatch, has already been the subject of general remark; it
plays so prominent a part in the upper waters of the Nile, that it
might fairly be designated the most remarkable of the native plants.

My predecessor, Kotschy, who did not know that it had already been
observed by Adanson in Senegambia, named it _Ædemone mirabilis_, which
was corrupted into the still more wonderful name of _Anemone
mirabilis_, and so appeared in many books which treated of Africa. The
ambatch is distinguished for the unexampled lightness of its wood, if
the fungus-like substance of the stem deserves such a name at all. It
shoots up to 15 or 20 feet in height, and at its base generally
attains a thickness of about 6 inches. The weight of this fungus-wood
is so insignificant that it really suggests comparison to a feather.
Only by taking it into his hands could any one believe that it were
possible for one man to lift on to his shoulders a raft made large
enough to carry eight people on the water. The plant shoots up with
great rapidity by the quiet places of the shore, and since it roots
merely in the water, whole bushes are easily broken off by the force
of the wind or stream, and settle themselves afresh in other places:
This is the true origin of the grass-barriers so frequently mentioned
as blocking up the waters of the Upper Nile, and in many seasons
making navigation utterly impracticable. Other plants have a share in
the formation of these floating islands, which daily emerge like the
Delos of tradition; among them, in particular, the vossia grass, and
the famous papyrus of antiquity, which at present is nowhere to be
found either in Nubia or in Egypt.

On the 13th of January, on one of the thronging islands, we had our
first _rencontre_ with the Shillooks. This tribe of negroes formerly
extended themselves much further north than at present, having
settlements on all the islands; but now they only exceptionally
penetrate to this latitude (12° 30´) in their canoes of hollow
tamarind stems. The Baggara, meanwhile, are ever gaining a firmer
footing on the river banks, and have already with their flocks
ventured far to the east of the stream into the land of the Dinka.

[Sidenote: MISFORTUNE.]

Some long islands of sand distinguished by stripes here gave a
noticeable feature to the scene; they were cohered with flocks of
Balearic or peacock cranes, which had arranged themselves in five or
six rows like a regiment of soldiers, their beaks turned to the wind
and facing the north. When young this bird, thus plentifully supplied,
has flesh more palatable than the goose, because it feeds on corn and
beans; and, like the guinea fowl, it made a change in our bill of
fare. On the western banks were large herds of antelopes (_A.
megaloceras_), which we could see peacefully coming down to drink. In
other places we passed close by trees with a lively population of
monkeys swinging on the branches; and now for the first time we
observed the troops of maraboo storks, which made their appearance in
considerable numbers by the water’s edge. All this diversity of life
gave the fascination of romance to the loneliness of the forest.

The 14th of January was the first day of ill-luck, which I was myself
the means of bringing about. Early in the morning another boat had
joined us; and the people wished me to allow them to stay awhile that
they might enjoy themselves together. Being, however, at a spot which
seemed to me extremely dull, I urged them to go further, in order to
land on a little island that appeared more full of interest. The
excursion which I took was attended by a misfortune which befell one
of the two men whom I took to accompany me. Mohammed Amin, such was
his name, running at my side, had chanced to come upon a wild buffalo,
that I had not the least intention of injuring, but which the man,
unhappily, approached too near in the high grass. The buffalo, it
would seem, was taking his midday nap, and disturbed from his siesta,
rose in the utmost fury. To spring up and whirl the destroyer of his
peace in the air was but the work of an instant. There lay my faithful
companion, bleeding all over, and in front of him, tail erect, stood
the buffalo roaring, and in a threatening attitude ready to trample
down his victim. As fate would have it, however, the attention of the
infuriated brute was attracted by the other two men, who stood by
looking on speechless with astonishment. I had no gun; Mohammed had
been carrying my breech-loader in his hand, and there it was swinging
on the left horn of the buffalo. The other man with me, who carried my
rifle, had immediately taken aim, but the trigger snapped in vain, and
time after time the gun missed fire. No time now for any consultation;
it was a question of a moment. The man grasped at a small iron hatchet
and hurled it straight at the buffalo’s head from a distance of about
twenty paces; the aim was good, and thus was the prey rescued from the
enemy. With a wild bound the buffalo threw itself sidelong into the
reeds, tore along through the rustling stalks with its ponderous
weight, bellowing and shaking all the ground. Roaring and growling,
bounding violently from side to side, he could be seen in wild career,
and as we presumed that the whole herd might be in his train, we
seized the guns, and made our quickest way to a neighbouring tree.
All, however, soon was quiet, and our next thought was directed to the
unfortunate sufferer. Mohammed’s head lay as though nailed to the
ground, his ears pierced by sharp reed-stalks, but a moment’s
inspection convinced us that the injuries were not fatal. The
buffalo’s horn had struck his mouth, and, besides the loss of four
teeth in the upper jaw and some minor fractures, he had sustained no
further harm. I left my other companion on the spot to wash Mohammed,
and hastened alone to the distant boat to have him fetched. In three
weeks he had recovered, and as an equivalent for each of his four
teeth he had a backsheesh of ten dollars. This liberality on my part
wonderfully animated the desire for enterprise amongst my companions,
and put them in great good humour towards me for the future.

[Sidenote: BRETHREN IN THE FAITH.]

After a long time a mountain once again appeared; it was the two peaks
of the Nyemati, imposing masses of granite which rise aloft on the
right. We took up our quarters on the opposite island, where a number
of Baggara Arabs had pitched their tented camp. “Habbabkum, habbabkum,
habbabkum, aschera” (good friends), again and again our people begin
to shout as soon as they see their swarthy brethren in the faith upon
the shore. Then from our side are heard demands for “semmem” and for
“roab” (butter and buttermilk), whilst the Arabs cry for “esh, esh,”
that is, for corn. “Corn,” we reply, “we have hardly enough for
ourselves.” And then once more ensues the mingling of the sounds
“semmem” and “habbabkum.” At last, on shore, we are embracing the
“habbabkums” with wonderful emotion; but this does not quite go down;
we find everything they offer us has to be paid for handsomely at
Khartoom market-prices. As soon as it was seen that nothing was to be
got out of them without payment, our crew was not long in conferring
upon them the name of “Nas-batalin” (rascals).

The women were much more courteous, and vied in amiability, so as to
entice as many visitors as possible to their merissa-shops. These they
had improvised in their huts, eager to make a profit from the
ever-thirsty Khartoomers as they sail along. With these women, who
were ever actively employed at the hearth, though little accustomed to
keep alive the sacred fire of Vesta, my party spent their holiday in
rioting and revelry. I, for my part, lingered out my time on the
neighbouring steppe, treating the children to biscuits, as I should to
bonbons.

The Baggara Arabs possess the wide district which extends from
Kordofan and Darfur on the south, as far as the river banks inhabited
by the Dinka and Shillooks. Part of them—indeed, in the east, a third
of them—pay tribute to Egypt. The name Baggara means “neatherds,” and
indeed their wealth consists simply of cattle; they are not, however,
shepherds, as they are represented in the idylls of home, but mounted
and warlike from their youth; they are bolder robbers than any other
of the Ethiopian nomad races. They bring down elephants with lance and
sword, a feat scarcely less free from risk than playing with lions and
leopards as though they were kittens. Many of them hire themselves out
to the Khartoomers to accompany their expeditions to the interior.
Several came to offer their services to me, under the impression that
my object was the capture of slaves. I confess that I could hardly
restrain my admiration when I gazed upon their athlete, agile forms,
although I had no call for their services.

The Baggara speak a tolerably pure Soudan-Arabic; they seem to extend
themselves rapidly as an immigrant tribe over the pasture steppes, at
the expense of other and less favoured races. Their countenances
betray little of the Semitic expression, and I saw not a few whose
physiognomy reminded me of some of my old friends at home. I can
confidently maintain that they form the finest race of the nomad
people dwelling on the Nile. I could not help being surprised at the
love of ornament and finery which was manifested by this race,
advanced as it is. The clothing of the generality consists of
indigo-blue shirts, such as are worn by the peasants of Egypt, whilst
the more wealthy array themselves in robes of scarlet and figured
calico.

On the other shore I visited the mountain, which is almost contiguous
to the river. Growing here I first found the tamarind, which never
failed me more throughout my entire wanderings. The thick shade of
these bright green trees makes them a favourite rendezvous on all the
roads of Central Africa. Every traveller in the Soudan can scarce be
otherwise than quite familiar with the Hegelig (_Balanites_), of
which, like plums, the fruit falls off and thickly strews the ground
below. By the people of Khartoom it is called Lalôb. It contains a
sweetish pulp, tasting at first like gingerbread, but it leaves a
bitter taste behind, and is purgative in its properties.

[Sidenote: MOUNT NYEMATI.]

Climbing about 800 feet I reached the summit of the Nyemati, and had a
fine view of the steppes intersected by the stream. The slopes consist
partly of rough, massy blocks of granite, and partly of huge unbroken
flats, some a hundred feet in length, which descend to the river and
in places appear like sunken roofs. In the rifts and deeper clefts
swarm multitudes of bats, and a fetid atmosphere exhales from these
murky chasms. The Abyssinian rock-rabbit, creeping like a marmot over
the stones, is ever to be seen among the mountains of the steppes. The
eastern horizon is bounded by the mountains of the Dar-el-Fungi in
Upper Sennaar, at a distance of more than thirty miles.

As we progressed further the river islands became more frequent, and
the channels more and more narrowed by the surrounding masses of
impenetrable grass. The ambatch is here almost excluded by the vossia
grass, but only to re-appear at the mouth of the waters. We came
continually upon Baggara, with whom, without stopping on our course,
we talked and discussed the market prices of provisions. A fine fat
bullock was bought for only three dollars, a price at which it would
pay to found here a company for the extract of meat; the skins are not
exported, but are used in the country. The Baggara hold all the left
bank, and visit it in winter when the steppes in the interior are dry
and scorched. Wherever they settle, as now and then they do, either on
the islands or on the right bank, they completely drive out the
Shillook negroes. At various times in the day we landed to fraternise
with the Baggara. The large flocks of ducks afforded entertaining and
successful sport; and as for geese, there were still more than I and
my people could eat. To and fro, ever and again swept through the
water a Shillook fishing in his fragile boat; he is not entitled to
the “habbabkum,” because he is a heathen; he is mocked with
“Wod-e-Mek” (son of a king) for a greeting, made to tell where he
comes from, and whither he is going, and if he has any fish, it is
taken from him: such is the practice on every vessel. But the
Shillooks are also subject to Egyptian rule, and there is no reason to
doubt that in a short time they will enjoy equal rights with the other
subjects of the Viceroy, however insignificant these may appear to be.

To a degree that created some misgiving as to what might be before us,
the progress now began to be unalterably tedious. For a weary time all
woodlands seemed wholly to have forsaken the shore; nothing was to be
perceived but the desolation of a vast savannah. Dark brown
widow-ducks (_Anas viduata_) and shovellers were shot, whose oily
taste is only disguised by red pepper. At night the time was usually
beguiled by stories of adventures in the Upper Nile district. Everyone
has something wonderful which he delights to tell, something beyond
all experience, and is ready to swear by the Koran and by the beard of
the Prophet that what he says is true. “Africa,” said Aristotle ages
ago, “has always something new to show;” the latest tale was now about
the pygmies, of whom I here received my earliest information. I had no
idea that I should be brought into actual and close connection with
such people. I laughed at the accounts which eye-witnesses gave of
them, and, for my part, quietly put them into the category of men with
tails. I took my share in dressing up a story for the entertainment of
my party. Alexandre Dumas’s tale, ‘l’Homme à queue,’ served my purpose
admirably. It is so clever, and yet so pointed in its fine simplicity,
that it thoroughly enlisted the attention of all who heard it.

[Sidenote: NILE VEGETATION.]

Notwithstanding the undeniable sameness which prevailed in its outward
character, I found every fresh landing-place afford me some surprise
or other. Rich was the reward of penetrating, as I did, a thorough
wilderness on the right bank on the mainland. Buffaloes forcing their
way along had beaten many avenues through thickets and creepers, and
along these I went, followed by a group of armed men. The vestiges in
every direction were so conclusive as to the number of the beasts that
were about, that we might well expect a _rencontre_ as dangerous as
that which has already been related. Here in a wild state is found the
Luffa, a plant of the gourd family. The dried fruit of this contains a
fibrous skeleton, that answers the purpose of a bathing-sponge, and it
is frequently cultivated in Egypt for that purpose. I could enumerate
a whole series of plants, known in Egypt only under cultivation, which
find their original and proper home in the primeval forests of the
White Nile. Not unreasonably may an inference be drawn that, in ages
indefinitely long ago, the entire Nile Valley exhibited a vegetation
harmonising in its character throughout, much more than now. It was
the upgrowth of civilisation in ancient Egypt which displaced the
flora from its northern seat, and made it, as at present, only to be
found hundreds of miles higher up the land. This assumption is in a
measure confirmed by the traditions which survive with regard to
animals. In remote times, the ibis, the hippopotamus, the crocodile,
all existed in far more northerly latitudes than now. The papyrus, it
may be added, gives its witness to the same theory.

After a while the southern horizon was again broken by the elevation
of a mountain, which proved to be the Defafang, an extinct volcano,
1000 feet high, several miles from the river. Werne, one of the first
explorers of the Upper Nile waters, the only European who visited this
locality, collected a variety of specimens of the rocks, and they
exhibited the volcanic nature of the basaltic lava, corresponding to
similar formations in the Eifel. This mountain stands as the
boundary-mark between the first negro territory on the White Nile and
the shepherd race of the Baggara.

As we were sailing in deep water close to the reedy shore, the roar
and rustle of our great sail started up a herd of wild buffaloes,
which disappeared from sight, before we had time to seize our rifles.
When presently we were passing the last camp of the Baggara, our
attention was attracted to a scene of excitement, at once vivid and
picturesque. The entire population, alarmed by an attack of wild
buffaloes on some cattle-drivers, was up and in hot pursuit. Hundreds
of men armed with lance or sword, some of them mounted, were furiously
hurrying to the scene, urged on by the frantic shrieks of the excited
women. We could not resist the conclusion that the buffaloes, which we
had disturbed, had proceeded to attack the neighbouring drivers. An
impression seemed to prevail that we had fired at the Baggara, but in
the tumult nobody exactly understood the circumstances. The gale was
in our favour, and we glided rapidly out of reach without learning the
precise issue of the disorder. We observed one poor fellow who had
incurred a disaster similar to, and perhaps worse than, that which
happened to my own Mohammed Amin. About Mohammed I may here mention
that his upper lip had been held together by a couple of
insect-needles; that he had been treated to plenty of pap and
camomile-tea, and that after spitting out one little splinter of bone
after another, he soon found himself getting all right again.

In the course of the afternoon the boat sailed for a wager with a
flotilla of light-grey pelicans. Repeated small shot could not make
them rise; but at last we outstripped them, and succeeded in shooting
down several from the group. From the supple breast-feathers of this
bird, the savages of the Upper Nile prepare close perukes, which make
an excellent imitation of a luxuriant crop of grey hair, and would be
a valuable acquisition to any theatrical wardrobe.

[Sidenote: MOHAMMED KHER.]

A hurried trip upon the left bank brought me upon the track of a large
herd of elephants. According to the Baggara, this district is most
prolific as a hunting-ground for these animals. The adjacent
territories of the Shillooks, on the other hand, are too densely
populated to allow elephants to be numerous, and they have to be
sought at some distance, where on account of the wide water-level,
they are often reached in boats.

At sunset we reached a place on the right bank, which will always
retain a certain notoriety in the history of the White Nile, as having
once been the headquarters of the renowned robber chief, Mohammed
Kher. The raised works, having on their interior traces of decayed
walls of earth, and surrounded by deep trenches, mark the site of
Mohammed Kher’s seriba. To judge by the heaps of bones which still
exist, the number of cattle slaughtered and feasted on must have been
something enormous. Booty was plundered from far and near, but the
Shillooks were the greatest sufferers. Mohammed Kher, with his
contingent of well-mounted Baggara, was not only for many years a
terror to the neighbouring negro races, but could defy the authority
of the Governor at Khartoom. Yet principally it was he who taught the
people of Khartoom how, by means of earthworks and regular ramparts,
to intimidate the natives and bring them into subjection. Many human
bones, the relics of slaves carried off by sickness, as well as the
skulls of asses and horses, are found everywhere about. As a
consequence of the burning of the steppes, they are frequently noticed
in a half-charred condition. Throughout Africa burnt human bones are
ever the marks which the slave trade leaves behind. Not far from this
ill-famed place we lay-to alongside the village of Kaka, the most
northerly place inhabited by Shillooks on the White Nile, and at which
the Egyptian Government maintained a depôt for corn. Twenty years ago
hundreds of Dinka villages stood on this side of the river. From the
descriptions of travellers who accompanied the expeditions sent out by
Mehemet Ali to discover the sources of the Nile, it has been
ascertained that the number of the population here was formerly as
important as it now is in the very heart of the Shillook country. As a
result of the incessant ravages of Mohammed Kher, the entire eastern
shore has degenerated into a forest waste. The river still parts the
separate districts of the hostile tribes; but the Shillooks have
attempted to settle nowhere except at Kaka in the deserted district;
the Dinka, on their part, having withdrawn some days’ journey into the
interior.

Soon after the arrival of the boat, a great crowd of naked Shillooks,
prompted by curiosity, assembled on the shore, my dog still being the
chief attraction. The first sight of a throng of savages, suddenly
presenting themselves in their native nudity, is one from which no
amount of familiarity can remove the strange impression; it takes
abiding hold upon the memory, and makes the traveller recall anew the
civilisation he has left behind.

One of the Khartoom men disturbed my pensive contemplations by
pointing to the Shillooks, and making a remark that they looked like
Christians. I punished him with the scornful reply to the effect that
of whatever faith the savages were, I could answer for it that they
had the good luck to be neither Jews nor Mohammedans.

A large _sombrero_ of Mexican cut which protected my head from the
rays of the sun, excited the curiosity of the Shillooks. On their own
heads they wore a similar covering, except that theirs was made from
their own hair. I called their attention to the great likeness between
black men and white men, but very great was their astonishment when
they saw that my hair could be taken off and put on again, which would
be to them very incredible. It might almost be said that they are
hardly born without their crests, which sometimes resemble the comb of
a guinea-fowl, and at other times seem to be borrowed and designed
from the aureoles which we admire in Greek sacred pictures. Even while
they are infants at the breast, the hair is begun to be fastened into
shape with gum-arabic and ashes, and in course of time is permanently
brought into whatever form they please.

[Sidenote: SWARM OF BEES.]

The dreary steppe in the neighbourhood of Kaka contained nothing that
was worth the trouble of collecting. The dried-up remains of
vegetation had been completely annihilated by fire. Accordingly I was
anxious to proceed farther the same day, that I might botanise in some
undisturbed spot of the primæval forest; my desire was, however,
frustrated by an incident which I do not even now remember without a
shudder. At the village the shore, as far as the eye could reach,
forms a treeless steppe; but at some little distance the river is
again bordered by a dense forest. A place was soon reached, where the
stream takes a remarkable bend, and proceeds for eight miles in a
north-easterly direction. This place has the singular name of
Dyoorab-el-Esh, or the sack of corn. Now, as the north-east wind of
course was adverse to any north-east progress, it was necessary that
the boat should be towed by the crew. As the rope was being drawn
along through the grass on the banks it happened that it disturbed a
swarm of bees. In a moment, like a great cloud, they burst upon the
men who were dragging; every one of them threw himself headlong into
the water and hurried to regain the boat. The swarm followed at their
heels, and in a few seconds filled every nook and cranny of the deck.
What a scene of confusion ensued may readily be imagined.

Without any foreboding of ill, I was arranging my plants in my cabin,
when I heard all around me a scampering which I took at first to be
merely the frolics of my people, as that was the order of the day. I
called out to inquire the meaning of the noise, but only got excited
gestures and reproachful looks in answer. The cry of “Bees! bees!”
soon broke upon my ear, and I proceeded to light a pipe. My attempt
was entirely in vain; in an instant bees in thousands are about me,
and I am mercilessly stung all over my face and hands. To no purpose
do I try to protect my face with a handkerchief, and the more
violently I fling my hands about so much the more violent becomes the
impetuosity of the irritated insects. The maddening pain is now on my
cheek, now in my eye, now in my hair. The dogs from under my bed burst
out frantically, overturning everything in their way. Losing well nigh
all control over myself, I fling myself in despair into the river; I
dive down, but all in vain, for the stings rain down still upon my
head. Not heeding the warnings of my people, I creep through the reedy
grass to the swampy bank. The grass lacerates my hands, and I try to
gain the mainland, hoping to find shelter in the woods. All at once
four powerful arms seize me and drag me back with such force that I
think I must be choked in the mud. I am compelled to go back on board,
and flight is not to be thought of.

[Sidenote: BEE-STINGS.]

In the cooling moisture I had so far recovered my self-possession,
that it occurred to me to drag a sheet from my chest, and this at last
I found some protection, but I had first gradually to crush the bees
which I had enclosed with me within this covering. Meantime by great
self-denial and courage on the part of my excellent people, my large
dog was brought on board to me and covered with cloths; the other, an
animal from Khartoom, was unfortunately lost. Cowering down
convulsively, I lingered out thus three full hours, whilst the buzzing
continued uninterruptedly, and solitary stings penetrated periodically
through the linen. Everyone by degrees became equally passive as
myself; at length a perfect silence reigned on board; the bees
subsided into quietness. Meanwhile, some courageous men had crept
stealthily to the bank, and had succeeded in setting fire to the
reeds. The smoke rose to their assistance, and thus they contrived to
scare away the bees from the boat, and, setting it afloat, they drove
it to the other bank. Had the thought of the fire occurred at first,
our misfortune would have assumed a much milder character; but in the
suddenness of the attack everyone lost all presence of mind. Free from
further apprehension, we could now examine our injuries. With the help
of a looking-glass and a pair of pincers I extracted all the stings
from my face and hands, and inconvenience in those places soon passed
away. But it was impossible to discover the stings in my hair; many of
them had been broken off short in the midst of the fray, and,
remaining behind, produced little ulcers which for two days were
acutely painful. Poor Arslan was terribly punished, especially about
the head; but the stings had clung harmlessly in the long hair on his
back. I was really sorry for the loss of my nice little dog, which was
never recovered, and in all likelihood had been stung to death. These
murderous bees belong to the striped variety of our own honeybee. A
mishap like ours has been seldom experienced in the waters of the
White Nile. Consul Petherick, as his servants informed me, had once to
undergo a similar misfortune. Our own grievance was not confined to
ourselves: every boat of the sixteen which that day were sailing in
our track, was pestered by the same infliction. No imagination can
adequately depict the confusion which must have spread in boats where
were crowded together from 60 to 80 men. I felt ready, in the evening,
for an encounter with half a score of buffaloes or a brace of lions
rather than have anything more to do with bees; and this was a
sentiment in which all the ship’s company heartily concurred. I took
my quinine and awoke refreshed and cheerful; but several of the
ill-used members of our party were suffering from violent fever. My
own freedom from fever might perchance in a measure be attributed to
my involuntary vapour-bath. I had been sitting muffled up for some
hours in my wet clothes through the heat of the day, and no vapour
bath more effectual could be contrived. Among the crews of the boats
which followed us there were two deaths, which ensued as the result of
the injuries which had been sustained.

On the day of the bee-visitation another insect had likewise presented
itself, which inflicted some sharpish stings, although they were not
attended by any continuous annoyance. It was in itself an
insignificant gadfly (_Tabanus_), which here appears to play the part
of the tsetse-fly, the natives declaring of it that it injures the
cattle. It is widely diffused in the regions through which I
travelled, and where the tsetse seems to fail.

Our second day of misadventure came to an end; on the following
morning we were again passing along banks void of trees. Towards
midday we made a pause on the right bank by a charming grove,
where trailing creepers (_Leptadenia_) dropped their pendants
perpendicularly down, and bound the spreading boughs of the Shubahi
acacias (_A. verugera_) to the ground, an apparatus admirably adapted
to the gymnastic frolics of the little apes. Wherever anyone ventures
to penetrate into the thickets he will not fail to find countless
traces of animal life; snake-skins and feathers of many a species are
scattered over the ground; tortoise-shells and fish-bones, the remains
of the eagle’s feast; bones of animals; occasionally even human
skeletons, perfectly entire. On the shore are the shell-fish left by
the high water, especially the homes of the Ampularia (_A. Wernei_) as
large as one’s fist, in its way a giant amongst the mollusks of the
mighty river.

[Sidenote: AMBATCH CANOES.]

Warned by our experience we were ever on the alert against bees,
keeping in readiness a bundle of straw and some faggots, in order to
be able to kindle the dry grass immediately we had accomplished our
excursion on the land. Towards midday we perceived with horror more
bees in the shore-grass, and lost no time in getting across to the
left bank. Here we came across numbers of Shillooks fishing in their
light canoes of ambatch; darting through the water almost as swiftly
as the fish themselves. This speed does not, however, prevent them
from having a waddling movement, something like a duck, in their light
craft. So light are these canoes that one man can carry three of them
on his shoulder, although each canoe is capable of holding three men.
From a few dozen shoots of ambatch of about three years’ growth, a
canoe of this kind can be easily produced; at about six feet high the
stem goes rapidly off to a point, so that a bundle of them needs only
be tied together at the extremities, and there is at once attained a
curve that would grace a gondola.[9] To use these canoes adroitly
requires considerable practice, as the least shifting of the centre of
gravity is made at the risk of a capsize. Nevertheless, they afforded
me good service by taking me to the bank with dry feet, and by
enabling me to make botanical collections from the floating bushes.
When the Shillook has come to the end of his voyage, he seizes his
gondola like an ancient warrior might his shield. He carries it,
partly to ensure its safety and partly to allow it to dry, because the
ambatch wood easily imbibes moisture and becomes saturated.

[Illustration: Ambatch Canoe.]

During our wanderings the crew had made a valuable discovery to
replace the cracked middle of our long sailyard. It consisted of a
tolerably straight, though much knotted, stem of Balanites; it was
only 10 feet long, but was doubtless found with much trouble, so rare
are any trees that are straight. The portion of the sailyard which had
become useless now fell under the axe; it was full of cracks, and
could no longer be held together by cow hide; the old bit of northern
pinewood, which had done service for years on no one knows how many
vessels or in how many latitudes, had now reached the limit of its
destiny here on the White Nile, and was to be committed to the flames.
Peace to its ashes!

The width of the cultivated country appears to be about ten miles, the
whole of the left shore being dotted with numerous small villages. We
were not far from Fashoda, the seat of the provincial government, and
for the first time availed ourselves of our store of glass beads to
open a lively trade with the Shillooks. But the beads had already so
much deteriorated in value that we were obliged to buy eggs, fowls,
and milk, quite at Khartoom market prices. The poor savages insisted
upon this as only right and fair; it was in consequence of their
transition from the monkey age of man—the termination, as it were, to
them of the stone and bronze period—directly into the advanced
condition of citizens and payers of taxes.

[Sidenote: FASHODA.]

Towards midday on the 24th of January we reached Fashoda, and thus,
after a prosperous progress, arrived at the limit of the Egyptian
empire. Fashoda is the seat of a Mudir, provided with a garrison for
the maintenance of Egyptian power. The complete subjection of the
entire Shillook country did not, however, follow until two years
later. The governor for a considerable time resided six leagues from
the town, where he was quartered with 500 soldiers, in order to bring
to reason the southern Shillooks, who were by no means inclined to
submit. During this time the armed force in Fashoda did not consist of
more than 200 men.

The erection of anything like a town had only been begun within the
last two years. The place was formerly called Denab, and now consisted
of merely a large mass of conical huts of straw, besides the
remarkable structure which constituted the fort. The long boundary
walls of the fort, with their hundreds of waterspouts, looked at a
distance as though they were mounted with so many cannon, and
presented a formidable appearance. In reality the number of cannon
which the fort could boast was only four, the rest of the field
ordnance being in the camp of the Mudir. His deputy received me very
courteously. As a present he sent me at once two fat wethers, and
placed at my disposal his boats, mules, horses, soldiers—in short,
everything that could assist me to inspect the neighbourhood in
comfort.

On account of the shallowness of the water on the side on which the
town is built, the boat was moored close by a narrow island which was
connected with the mainland by a kind of jetty composed of faggots.
This at the time of high water serves as a mole for any boats that may
arrive, which are then able to lie close alongside the doors. Before
the walls of the town, on a terrace left dry by the sunken flood,
extend fields and vegetable gardens, which the Governor, following the
Egyptian fashion, has caused to be planted.[10] This is the southern
limit of the wheat culture in the Eastern Soudan.

The neighbouring country consists of steppes, over which, as far as
the eye can see, larger and smaller groups of Shillook huts rise from
the grass. The demand of wood for the use of the troops has caused the
larger trees everywhere to be miserably mutilated, and the few boats
which are at the disposal of the Government have enough to do in
procuring fuel for the heating of the steamer stationed there. Every
branch as it grows is immediately cut off, and the naked stems of the
acacias, once so magnificent on account of their massive proportions,
are alone able to defy the meagre tools Fashoda can supply.

[Illustration: View of Fashoda.]

For three years, it is said, there has been an undisturbed peace here,
that is to say, in the environs of Fashoda; up to that time, outbreaks
more or less violent, on the part of the negro settlers, had been the
order of the day. Near a withered Adansonia, less than a mile from the
walls, the spot was pointed out to me where the cannon of the fortress
was for the last time called into action. A well-directed shot had
mown down fifteen men at once from a single party who were taking
advantage of the rainy season and the high grass to make an attack.
The fatal shot was decisive, and the attack was abandoned. From among
the bones of the Shillooks killed on that day I selected from a
neighbouring pit nine skulls in good preservation, the investigation
of which has furnished some material evidence towards the ethnography
of Africa.

[Sidenote: TENT ON THE BANK.]

All boats are compelled to stop for several days at Fashoda, partly to
complete their corn-stores, and partly on account of the poll-tax, to
submit to an inspection of the papers, which contain the lists of the
crew and soldiers. Hence it happens that throughout January and
February Fashoda life is pretty brisk. Egyptian galley-slaves, wearing
no fetters—escape being as difficult as in Siberia—loitered on the
shore begging, and pestered me with scraps of French and Italian. This
I found by no means agreeable. After the cramped dimensions of my
cabin, I longed for wider freedom to my limbs; accordingly I had a
tent pitched upon the bank, but from fear of thieves it was obliged to
be continually guarded by men with loaded guns. Many boats came and
went, wending their way to the Upper Nile waters; all reported that
more or less they had been sufferers from the bees in Dyoorab-el-Esh.
I was told that the whole crew of one boat was obliged to remain in
the water from noon till evening, now and then raising their heads to
get air, but always under the penalty of getting some dozen fresh
stings.

The weather during these days was very cool, for a strong north-east
wind blew incessantly with such violence, that at daybreak we had
usually a temperature of only 62° Fahr. Even the hippopotamuses seemed
to find it over cool in the water, for at sunrise they appeared _en
masse_ on a neighbouring sandbank: amongst them I found a suitable
target on which to try the effect of the full-sized ball which my
large elephant gun carried.

I was continually bewildered by the jokes and buffoonery of the crews,
for whom jesting seemed a necessity of life. Nothing was done without
bad puns. There was an undying _esprit amusant_, whose flow was
unchecked alike by day and night. Whenever any one did a thing which
could be made ridiculous, he was received with a volley of cheers of
“Hue! hue!” (there he is). The merissa beer of Fashoda, served out in
gourd-shells—pints and pots being here unknown—naturally is not
without its influence in promoting this perpetual folly. The love of
jocoseness among these people is not confined to the young, but makes
them, even when advanced in years, as merry and as naïve as children.

Some Arab names are as generally common as our own Brown and Smith; on
our boat alone we had six Mohammeds; for distinction, therefore, each
of these had to be assigned his special nickname. One was called
Abu-Asherah (the man with ten fathers); another Berdawily (the chilly
one). The others were designated by epithets more or less poetical, as
father of the virgin, or sheikh of the women. My Mohammed, who had the
_rencontre_ with the buffalo, was sufficiently distinguished by his
appellation of Amin, the faithful, but he was also jocosely known as
“the swimmer.” He had once been the means of losing a boat which a
merchant had entrusted to his care, and had only escaped by swimming
to shore, a feat which acquired for him the satire associated with his
name.

An occurrence, which I can hardly say surprised me, but which I had
expected hourly from amongst the Arab idlers, alarmed us on the first
evening of our arrival. The gun of one of our soldiers went off
accidentally, and the ball whistled across our boat. On the following
morning, through similar carelessness, a slave of one of the
Government officials received a shot through his arm, for which the
offender had to pay 150 dollars, a sum which had to be raised from the
entire crew, because, as they said, they were all liable to the same
accident. I had myself only narrowly escaped being hit by the first
mishap, and the captain (although generally he was most considerate
towards his crew), acting as Ghattas’ agent, fell with great severity
upon the offender. By the judgment of the majority, to which the
Nubians ever appeal, the fellow was assigned some dozen lashes of the
kurbatch, which he was thrown down on the deck to receive, and which
he bore without a murmur.

The right side of the main stream at Fashoda is not the mainland, but
is a long island, which extends for several leagues above and below.
Beyond the true eastern shore the Dinka are said to be settled in
extensive villages, and at that time still furnished an inexhaustible
supply of slaves to the marauding expeditions of the garrison of
Fashoda. In 1870, Baker succeeded in putting an end to this disorder,
the knowledge of which penetrated to the most remote tribes. The Dinka
tribes of that region are called Dang-Yoht, Dang-Yahl, Behr, Nyell,
and Abelang.

[Sidenote: KILLING A BOA.]

The shore opposite Fashoda contains wide bush-forests and unlimited
supplies of wood. During one of my excursions thither I killed an
enormous African boa, the Python Sebæ. It was about fifteen feet in
length, not above the average size to which the species attains; in
Gallabat I have frequently seen them over twenty feet. The speedy
death of this huge reptile by a charge of heavy shot, of which only
four grains hit, struck me as very remarkable. The skin was
brilliantly spotted, and yielded admirable material for making a
waterproof gun-case.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [7] In the Soudan, every thorn-hedge, or palisade, is
     called a Seriba; in Syria, also, the cane-hedges, for the
     enclosing of cattle, are termed Sirb, or Sereebe.

     [8] For five Maria Theresa dollars (1_l_.) I bought two fat
     bullocks.

     [9] The accompanying illustration represents a similar
     canoe, weighing about 40 lbs.

     [10] The illustration represents the different well-like
     Shadoofs used for irrigation.




                              CHAPTER III.

  Camp of the Mudir. A negro king. Campaigns. Future of the country.
     A wise judge. The shrieking priest. Gum-arabic. The melodious
     tree. Mohammed Aboo-Sammat. Boats on the flight. Treachery
     of the Shillooks. General market. Excuse for plunder. First
     papyrus. Cæsar among the pirates. Useless attempts to proceed. A
     world of grass. Hippopotamuses in a fright. The last obstacle.
     Depreciation of the Gazelle stream. _Bon-mot_ of the Viceroy.
     Ghattas’ namesake. The slipper-shape. Description of the Nueir.
     Analogy between man and beast. Cactus-type of Euphorbiæ. The
     Bahr-el-Arab a mainstream. Vallisneria meadows. Arrival in Port
     Rek. True nature of the Gazelle. Discovery of the Meshera.
     Deadly climate and its victims. Le Saint. Features of the
     scenery. The old queen and her prince consort. Royal gifts.
     Fishes and birds.


I remained nine days in Fashoda, a residence to which the non-arrival
of the boats bound for the Gazelle River compelled us, because our
force was not sufficiently numerous to overcome by ourselves the
obstacles which the “Sett,” or grass-barrier, would present, and also
inadequate for protection against an attack, which was not improbable,
from the hitherto unsubdued residents.

A wider ramble, in which I inspected several Shillook villages, led me
farther into the country, and gave me some conception of its thronging
population. The Turkish officer, who welcomed me like a countryman
because I was European, attended me, followed by a number of soldiers,
all of us being mounted. Although throughout this tour, I was not
offered even a bowl of fresh milk, and saw little beyond what had
already come under my observation, viz., grey and rusty-red beings,
innumerable conical huts, and countless herds of cattle; yet I could
not be otherwise than impressed by various details which appeared
characteristic of this people, now incorporated as Egyptian subjects,
and which I shall proceed to relate.

[Sidenote: SHILLOOK STATISTICS.]

The Shillook tribe inhabits the entire left bank of the White Nile,
occupying a territory about 200 miles long and about ten miles wide,
and which extends right to the mouth of the Gazelle River. Hemmed in
by the Baggara on the west, it is prevented by the river from
extending itself farther eastward, and only the lower course of the
Sobat has any of the Shillooks for its denizens. Their subjection to
Egyptian government, which was completed in 1871, has caused a census
to be taken of all the villages on the left bank of the Nile, which
resulted in an estimate of about 3000. Taking the character of the
villages into account this would give a total of above a million souls
for this portion of the Shillooks alone. Now the Shillook land, which
lies upon the White Nile, has an extent of hardly less than 2000
square miles, and when the number of heads upon this is compared with
those in the populous districts of Europe we are justified in
reckoning from 600 to 625 to a square mile; a result altogether
similar is arrived at from a reckoning based on the estimate of there
being 3000 villages, each village having huts varying in number from
45 to 200, and each hut averaging 4 or 5 occupants; this would give a
total of about 1,200,000. This, in fact, is an estimate corresponding
entirely with what the Mudir of Fashoda, who was conversant with the
details of all state affairs, had already communicated to me in 1869.

No known part of Africa, scarcely even the narrow valley of the Nile
in Egypt, has a density of population so great; but a similar
condition of circumstances, so favourable to the support of a teeming
population, is perhaps without a parallel in the world. Everything
which contributes to the exuberance of life here finds a concentrated
field—agriculture, pasturage, fishing, and the chase. Agriculture is
rendered easy by the natural fertility of the soil, by the recurrence
of the rainy seasons, by irrigation effected by the rising of the
river, assisted by numerous canals, and by an atmosphere ordinarily so
overclouded as to moderate the radiance of the sun, and to retain
throughout the year perpetual moisture. Of fishing there is plenty.
There are crocodiles and hippopotamuses in abundance. Across the river
there is a free and open chase over wildernesses which would
advantageously be built upon, but for the hostility of the
neighbouring Dinka. The pasture lands are on the same side of the
river as the dwellings; they are just beyond the limits of the
cultivated plots; occasionally they are subject to winter drought, and
at times liable to incursions from the Baggara; but altogether they
are invaluable as supplying daily resorts for the cattle.

Still further proof of the superabundance of population of the
Shillooks is manifest from the emigration which goes forward in a
south-westerly direction, where considerable numbers of them, the
Dembo and Dyoor, have settled on the border-lands between the Bongo
and Dinka. Of these, however, I will speak hereafter; I will only
pause now to remark how, in vivid contrast to the monotonous
uniformity of nature which ordinarily asserts itself throughout vast
tracts of Central Africa, there are even exhibited diversities of
human development, differences of dialect, and peculiarities of bodily
conformation. In the Shillook territory there are probably no less
than 600 residents to the square mile, whilst in Bongo-land, within
180 miles to the south-west, there would be found hardly a dozen
occupants on an equal area. Again, between lat. 5° and 1° N., within a
range of not more than 300 miles, are to be found examples of the
largest and of the smallest races of mankind—the Bari and the Akkah,
of which the former might rival the Patagonians in stature, the latter
being scarcely taller than Esquimaux, and considerably below a medium
height.

[Sidenote: SHILLOOK VILLAGES.]

It should be appended to what has been said about the villages, that
the entire west bank of the Nile, as far as the confines of the
district reach, assumes the appearance of one single village, of which
the sections are separated by intervals varying from 300 to 1000
paces. These clusters of huts are built with surprising regularity,
and are so closely crowded together that they cannot fail to suggest
the comparison with a thick mass of fungus or mushrooms. Every village
has its overseer, whilst the overseers of fifty or seventy, or
sometimes of 100 villages, are subject to a superintendent, who has
the control of what may be called a “district,” and of such districts
there are well nigh a hundred, each of them distinguished by its
particular name. One of the descendants of the ancient kings had been
reduced to entire subjection under the Government; another at the
period of my first visit was still resisting to the utmost.

In the centre of each village there is a circular space where, evening
after evening, the inhabitants congregate, and, either stretched upon
hides or squatting down on mats of ambatch, inhale the vapour from
burning heaps of cow-dung to keep off the flies, or from pipes with
enormous clay bowls smoke the tobacco of the country.

In these spaces there is frequently erected the great stem of a tree,
on which according to common African usage kettledrums are hung and
used for the purpose of warning the inhabitants of any impending
danger, and of communicating intelligence to the neighbourhood. Most
of the negro tribes are distinguished by the form of their huts. The
huts of the Shillooks are built with higher walls than those of the
Dinka, and, as an ordinary rule, are of smaller circumference; the
conical roofs do not rise to a peak, but are rather in the shape of
flattened domes, and in this way it is that they acquire the singular
resemblance to mushrooms of which I have spoken. The villages are not
enclosed externally, but are bounded by fences made of straw-mats
running between the closely-crammed houses, and which serve for
shelter to the cattle of individual householders. Great grazing-plots,
such as the larger villages combine to provide for the benefit of the
community, and exist amongst the Dinka, cannot be secured for the
Shillooks, because they are comparatively limited for space.

Now although these savages are altogether unacquainted with the
refined cosmetics of Europe, they make use of cosmetics of their own;
viz., a coating of ashes for protection against insects. When the
ashes are prepared from wood they render the body perfectly grey, and
hereby are known the poor; when the ashes are obtained from cow-dung
they give a rusty-red tint, the hue of red devils, and hereby can be
recognised the landowners. Ashes, dung, and the urine of cows are the
indispensable requisites of the toilet. The item last named affects
the nose of the stranger rather unpleasantly when he makes use of any
of their milk-vessels, as, according to a regular African habit, they
are washed with it, probably to compensate for a lack of salt.

The external appearance of the Shillooks, therefore, is by no means
agreeable, but rather offensive to the beholder, who will hardly fail
to notice amongst all the negro people who dwell in the plains of the
Upper Nile a singular want of the lower incisor teeth, which in early
life are always broken off. Their physiognomy hardly offers that
decided negro type which their swarthy complexion would lead one to
expect. To judge by the shape of the skull, this people belongs to the
less degraded races of Central Africa, which are distinguished from
other negro stocks by a smaller breadth of jaw and by a less decided
narrowness of head. A comparison which I made with the skulls which I
had collected and some which were taken from ancient Egyptian graves,
and with the heads of living fellahs, established the fact of a
remarkable resemblance. According to Professor R. Hartmann of Berlin,
the similarity between the heads of ancient Egyptians and the
Shillooks rests on the projection of the nasal bones; to have these so
deeply set as to appear compressed by the forehead, would seem to be
discordant with the general type of negro races. Without pronouncing
any decided opinion as to the actual relationship of the Egyptian to
the Shillook, that eminent _savant_ thinks that he at least discerns a
fresh proof of an unquestionable African origin of the latter.

[Sidenote: SHILLOOK MEN.]

Entirely bare of clothing, the bodies of the men would not of
themselves be ungraceful, but through the perpetual plastering over
with ashes, they assume a thoroughly diabolical aspect. The movements
of their lean bony limbs are so languid, and their repose so perfect,
as not rarely to give the Shillooks the resemblance of mummies; and
whoever comes as a novice amongst them can hardly resist the
impression that in gazing at these ash-grey forms he is looking upon
mouldering corpses rather than upon living beings.

The stature of the Shillook is very moderate, and, as a general rule,
is short compared with that of the lank, and long-legged Dinka.

Like most of the naked and half-naked Africans they devote the
greatest attention to the arrangement of their hair; on every other
portion of the body all growth of hair is stopped by its being all
carefully plucked out at the very first appearance. As has been
already observed, amongst the men the repeated application of clay,
gum, or dung, so effectually clots the hair together that it retains
as it were voluntarily the desired form; at one time like a comb, at
another like a helmet, or, it may be, like a fan. Many of the Shillook
men present in this respect a great variety. A good many wear
transversely across the skull a comb as broad as a man’s hand, which,
like a nimbus of tin, stretches from ear to ear, and terminates behind
in two drooping circular lappets. Occasionally there are heads for
which one comb does not suffice, and on these several combs, parallel
to one another at small intervals are arranged in lines. There is a
third form, far from uncommon, than which nothing can be more
grotesque. It may be compared to the crest of a guinea fowl, of which
it is an obvious imitation; just as among ourselves many a way of
dressing the hair would seem to be designed by taking some animal form
for a model.

Every now and then, however, one meets with heads of which the hair is
closely cropped. However it may have happened, whether from illness or
from some misadventure in dressing the hair, or perhaps from a fall of
which the consequence has been an accident to the ponderous head-gear,
I hardly know how, but something always seems wanting to such heads.
In such cases there is frequently seen a comical-looking bandage fixed
over the brow, forming a shade for the eyes, and which is made of a
giraffe’s foxy-red mane clipped short. This has been elsewhere
observed, and is not unknown amongst the Kaffirs of South Africa. Thus
much for the men.

As far as regards the women—I saw none except those whose
short-cropped hair appeared stippled over with fresh-sprouting woolly
locks, and resembled the skin of a new-born lamb, like the “Astrachan”
of commerce. The women do not go entirely naked, but wear an apron of
calf-skin, which is bound round their loins, and reaches to their
knees.

Just like the Dinka, whose external habits, apart from their
hair-combs, they would appear almost entirely to follow, every man
amongst them ordinarily carries a club-shaped crutch, nearly three
feet in length, with a heavy round knob at its upper end, but which
tapers down to a point at the other extremity, so that it resembles a
gigantic nail. Their only arms are their long spiked lances, of which
(to judge from the equivalents taken in exchange) one is valued at a
Maria Theresa dollar. Bows and arrows are just as unknown amongst them
as amongst the neighbouring Dinka, whilst, on the contrary, amongst
the Nueir they are the chief weapons.

[Sidenote: SHILLOOK ANIMALS.]

The domestic animals which the Shillooks breed are oxen, sheep, and
goats, the same kinds as hereafter we shall find amongst the Dinka;
besides these, they keep poultry and dogs; other animals are scarce,
and probably could not endure the climate. Throughout the country dogs
abound, in shape like greyhounds, but in size hardly equal to our
pointers. They are almost always of a foxy-red colour, with a black
muzzle, much elongated; they are short-haired and sleek, and have long
tails, smooth as those of rats; their ears are tolerably long, the
upper portion being flabby and ragged, and therefore drooping forward.
Almost beyond example in their activity in leaping and running, so
fleet are they that with the greatest ease they outrun the gazelle,
and are everywhere of service in the chase; over the earth-walls ten
feet high, and over ant-hills, they bound with the celerity of cats,
and can jump three or four times the length of their own slim bodies.
I kept a number of genuine Shillook dogs, which subsequently did very
well in the farther interior, and increased considerably. Like all
dogs of the Nile district, from the Egyptian pariah to the village cur
of the Soudan, this breed is always found to be deficient in the
dew-claws of the hind foot, which always exist in our European dogs.
As a general rule, it may be said that the Shillook dog differs little
from the races of the Bedouins of Kordofan and of Sennaar.

The only conception which the Shillook entertain of a higher existence
is limited to their reverence for a certain hero, who is called the
Father of their race, and who is supposed to have conducted them to
the land which they at present occupy. In case of famine, or in order
that they may have rain, or that they may reap a good harvest, they
call upon him by name. They imagine of the dead that they are
lingering amongst the living and still attend them. It is with them as
with other uncultivated children of nature, that old traditions and
veneration of ancestors supply the place of religious legends or ethic
system.

Late in the evening of the 1st of February we left Fashoda, and
proceeded, without using the sail, for the greatest part of the night
along the left bank. At daybreak we arrived at the Egyptian camp. We
were received with singing, shouting, and the braying of trumpets. I
was conducted by the Governor to his tent, and whilst, hour after
hour, we smoked our pipes in company, I related to him the most recent
events in the political world. After talking to him about the sources
of the Nile, and the campaign of the English in Abyssinia, I told him
of the events of the “Seven Days’ War,” in return for which I was
presented with a fine bullock and several sheep and goats. The
encampment, as I found, consisted of some huts erected with straw in a
very off-hand way, the irregular forms of which contrasted very
disadvantageously with the symmetrical regularity which is so
conspicuous in the dwellings of the Shillooks. Military tents and
awnings of sedge completed the equipment of the camp. An ordinary
thorn hedge with two loopholes, in which a cannon was always placed,
protected the spot, which was close to the left bank of the river. In
the Mudir’s verandah I also made acquaintance with the Shillook chief,
to whom I before alluded, who had entirely surrendered to the Egyptian
Government, and was now, as the Governor expressed himself, “coming to
his senses.” There was no external indication whatever of his rank,
except a miserable rag which hung about his loins, or the common
sandals which he wore, might be considered such. His short-cropped
hair had no covering; his neck had a row of beads, such as the heads
of families are accustomed to wear, worth about a couple of groschen;
and this was all the decoration he displayed. He retained now but a
shadow of his former power; his better days were gone, days in which,
attended by a council of ancestral state, he had swayed the sceptre of
patriarchal dignity. Of all the negro races which occupy the entire
district of the Nile, the Shillooks used to uphold the most perfectly
regulated government, and to appreciate them thoroughly it is
necessary to refer back to the earliest registries, which those who
accompanied the expedition of Mehemet Ali left on record. But now this
condition is all changed, and everything has disappeared which gave
this independent and primitive people their most striking
characteristics.

[Sidenote: SHILLOOK SUBMISSION.]

In the immediate proximity of the camp all was generally at peace; the
Shillooks apparently submitted tamely enough to a Government which did
not exercise any very tyrannical power, and which contented itself
with demanding a supply of bullocks and a stated levy of provisions to
maintain the troops. Notwithstanding this usual semblance of concord,
the Governor was notoriously on terms of open enmity and feud with the
Shillooks in the south. Kashgar, another descendant of the ancient
reigning family, still maintained himself as an uncontrolled
sovereign, and was able to render that part of the river extremely
unsafe for navigation. Ever and again the Governor with his force,
never more than 600 strong, was undertaking expeditions against them;
but, as he himself told me, they never came to an actual engagement.
Although the blacks, he said, might muster 20,000 or 30,000 strong,
the second cannon shot was quite enough to make them scamper off, and
leave their flocks and herds in the lurch; upon these the mounted
Baggara, in the service of the Government, descended and made them an
easy spoil. This nomadic race, from time immemorial, has ever, as I
have already mentioned, been addicted to the plunder of cattle, and
has always exhibited a preference for that occupation.

In another respect the situation of the Government here is far from
easy. Not only are the Shillooks at heart at enmity to it, but it
excites the hostility of the trading companies who ascend the river.
Nothing indicates the circumstances better than the expression of a
member of one of these companies. “The Mudir,” he said, “doesn’t like
to attack the Shillooks; he takes care of them, and only wants a few
of their bullocks; but we—we should just like to annihilate them,
devil’s brood as they are.” In fact, as the Mudir said to me, he only
wanted the best of the Shillooks; the Shillooks know well enough that
their “best” is their cattle, and this they are not really resigned
passively to surrender, and so they go on and continue to be defiant,
till they feel the grenades and rockets scorching their skins. For the
future fortune of this favoured country I cannot anticipate much that
is good. Whilst the Viceroy refuses to appoint Europeans as governors,
like Munzinger in Massowa, his officers must fail in those
qualifications which would be adequate for the successful
administration of a newly-acquired negro territory. The visible
retrogression of the Egyptian Soudan with respect to cultivation,
confirms this unfavourable foreboding. Ismail Pasha centres all his
hope upon the stimulating influence of a railway which shall connect
Egypt with Khartoom, and very likely he may witness commerce enlarged
to an unsuspected magnitude; one thing, however, there is which he
cannot prevent, and that is the depopulation of the Shillook lands.
Since they remain closed to European civilisation, and since the
husbandmen in Egypt are sufficiently engrossed in acquiring fresh soil
for their own tillage at home, there is no prospect whatever for any
advantage to these lands, except it can be found in a large
immigration of labourers from Asia.

[Sidenote: JUDICIAL VERDICT.]

The Governor was a remarkably intelligent Kurd, and great was my
regret that I could not spare a longer time to listen to the
interesting information that he gave me about the habits of the
Shillooks, which he knew accurately from many years’ experience. I
accepted all that he said with the greater confidence, because it had
seldom occurred to me to meet a Turkish officer, who could fluently
speak the dialect of the country. He was continually being called upon
to adjust the disputes of the natives, who appealed to his judgment,
even in their most private concerns. One young girl there was who,
abashed and dejected, had been crouching in a corner, and then
ventured to present herself before him as adjudicator. With her speech
half-choked by emotion, she besought him to interpose his authority to
set aside the obstacles which her parents threw in the way of her
completing her marriage engagement with a young Shillook, whose name
was Yōd. The hindrance to the wedding was simply the fact that the
young man possessed no cattle. The Mudir inquired whether Yōd was not
the owner of some cows. Her reply was, “No; Yōd has no cows; but
Yōd wants me, and I want Yōd.” Although she urged her point over
and over again, and pressed the Mudir to pronounce in her favour,
because his judgment would constrain her parents, the Mudir did not
yield. The girl kept saying “we must,” and “we will;” the judge could
speak only of bullocks. There seemed to be no settling the matter,
when he said, “You must go and wait: wait till Yōd has bullocks enough
to satisfy your parents.” This was not a very comforting decision, but
it showed me plainly how that it was ever his rule to recognise the
customs of the country.

In order to attend to my European correspondence, which had fallen
somewhat into arrears during my voyage, I prolonged my stay for three
days. Pine forests of gum-acacias encompassed the spot as far as the
extensive Shillook villages allowed them space, whilst the opposite
shore presented an unreclaimed desert. At this season, when the waters
had nearly reached their lowest level, the banks of the river were
everywhere enlivened by numerous kinds of water-fowl. Ducks and geese
did not preponderate, as in the northern districts, but the bird most
frequently seen was the crowned crane. Thousands of these in swarms
were to be seen upon the level banks, nor was there much difficulty in
getting at them. Protected by the tall grasses on the slopes of the
bank, one had but to discharge a load of good-sized shot, and the
destruction was marvellous. Besides the black and rose-coloured storks
there is occasionally found the common stork, familiar to us at home;
deeper onwards in the interior I have always looked for this in vain.
In every region throughout Africa there exists the rapacious hawk,
whilst the graceful grey falcon is not at all uncommon. The most
remarkable bird of prey, however, is the large whitey-brown eagle
(_Haliaëtos vocifer_), which, sitting apart on trees and shrubs in the
proximity of the waters, startles the passer-by by its peculiar
shriek.

The noise of this bird is very singular, and is unlike any other known
note of the feathered race; its cry ever comes unexpectedly, and is
prolonged on the waters. Sometimes it makes one think that it must be
the cry of frightened women which alarms him; or sometimes it appears
as if a lot of shouting boys were rushing from their hiding-place. The
illusion is so perfect, that, for my part, I never failed to hurry off
in the direction of the sound, whenever I chanced to hear it. The
peculiar cry of the bird is so characteristic, that the inhabitants of
the Soudan have given it the expressive name of Faki, the shrieking
priest.

Of birds which attach themselves to inhabited parts, the
white-breasted Abyssinian raven is most abundant; the trees around
Fashoda are full of them. This species dwells in pairs, which are
continually hacking away at the tree stems, the raven not unfrequently
coming to associate with them. The Rahama, consecrated (as an emblem
of parental affection) amongst the ancient Egyptians and Hebrews,
collects in considerable numbers in Khartoom, where it does duty as a
scavenger; but although it is ever to be found in the towns of Egypt
and Nubia, it is never met with here; it shuns the wilderness, and
only feels at home in civilised places. In this district its place is
supplied by the little carrion vulture (_Neophron pileatus_), which
the people of the Soudan call “Nisr,” although this is only the
ordinary Arabian appellation of an eagle. The heaths, broken as they
frequently are by low shrubs, notwithstanding the nearness of so many
dwellings, afford a suitable resort for whole coveys of guinea-fowls.
The herbage on the steppe itself appears for miles together to be
covered with the Bamia (_Hibiscus esculentus_), a species of
marsh-mallow, the seed-pods of which form a favourite vegetable
amongst the Nubians. By the White Nile it grows perfectly wild, whilst
in the north it requires to be cultivated.

[Sidenote: ACACIA-GROVES.]

The acacia-groves produce gum in such unlimited quantities that, in
the interests of commerce, they are specially worthy of regard. In the
winter time, with the greatest ease in the course of a day a
hundredweight of this valuable article could be collected by one man.
Not once, however, did I see anyone gathering the gum, although the
merchants of Khartoom are never in a position to supply sufficient to
meet the demands of Europe. The descriptions of gum, which are hence
brought to the Khartoom market, are those known as Sennaari and Talha,
and are, in truth, only of a mediocre quality. Yet they do possess a
certain marketable value, and through their abundance could be made to
render a very large profit. The acacia-groves extend over an area a
hundred miles square, and stretch along the right bank of the stream.
The kind which is most conspicuous is the _A. fistula_, and which is
as rich as any other variety in gummy secretions. I choose this
definition of it from its Arabian appellation “soffar,” which
signifies a flute or pipe. From the larvæ of insects which have worked
a way to the inside, their ivory-white shoots are often distorted in
form and swollen out at their base with globular bladders measuring
about an inch in diameter. After the mysterious insect has
unaccountably managed to glide out of its circular hole, this
thorn-like shoot becomes a sort of musical instrument, upon which the
wind as it plays produces the regular sound of a flute; on this
account, the natives of the Soudan have named it the whistling-tree.
It yields a portion of the gum known on the exchange as gum of
Gedaref. It is often found in lumps as large as the fist; it is rarely
colourless, and more frequently than otherwise tinged with the hue of
amber.

Very striking is the sight afforded by the wood of acacias in the
months of winter; the boughs, bare of leaves and white as chalk,
stretch out like ghosts; they are covered with the empty pods, which
cluster everywhere like flakes of snow; whilst the voices of a
thousand flutes give out their hollow dirge. Such is the forest of the
Soffar.

[Illustration: Prickles of Acacia.]

The peculiarities which affect the growth of the acacia appear to be
transmitted to a very remarkable extent. On a former journey I took
some seeds to Cairo, which already had produced some trees of a very
considerable size. These trees exhibited the special appearances of
the parents; below the prickles were the same excrescences and
insect-borings; not only was this the case in the park of Esbekieh in
Cairo, but it also occurred in several other situations, which left
the problem to be solved, how was it that the insect survived in the
seed, or how did it contrive to get to its tree in Cairo?

[Sidenote: ABOO SAMMAT.]

On the 5th of February we finally left the Egyptian encampment, and
directed our course up the stream towards the region of the papyrus.
After sailing all night we stopped just short of the mouth of the
Sobat, on the right bank close to a forest. The progress of the coming
days would lead us through an insecure territory; we wanted to make up
our supply of wood, and knew that the hostility of the Shillooks
would, in many places, render any attempt at landing on our part quite
unadvisable. Of the boats which were bound for the Gazelle, only one
had arrived. In order to render us assistance, the Mudir had charged
the owner not to leave my party in the lurch. This circumstance had a
very important effect upon my whole journey, as it was the means of
introducing me to Mohammed Aboo Sammat, who was proprietor of the
boat. This magnanimous Nubian was destined to exercise a very
considerable influence on my undertaking, and, indeed, he contributed
more to my success than all the satraps of the Soudan. During my land
journey I had first made his acquaintance, and now he invited me to be
his guest until he should have accompanied me to the remotest tribes,
a proposal on his part which made my blood tingle in my veins. A
native of Dar-Kenoos, in his way he was a little hero. Sword in hand
he had vanquished various districts large enough to have formed small
states in Europe. A merchant full of enterprise, he avoided no danger,
and was sparing neither of trouble nor of sacrifice; in the words of
the Horaz, “he explored the distant Indies, and compassed sea and land
to escape poverty.” Yet all the while he had the keenest sympathy with
learning, and could travel through the remotest countries at the
bidding of science to see the wonders of the world.

Far as eye can see, the Sobat flows between level banks bounded by
unlimited steppes; where it joins the Nile it is about half as broad
as the main stream. For a considerable distance the cloudy milk-white
waters, which indicate the mountain stream, can be distinguished as
they roll into the deep azure of the White Nile. The Sobat water is,
however, far preferable to the Nile water, which, after being strained
as it were, through a filter of grass, emerges transparent in colour,
but with a flat, earthy flavour, which is highly disagreeable to the
palate. The effect of the commingling of the two streams can be
distinctly traced as far as Fashoda, where the inhabitants fancy they
enjoy some consequent sanitary advantage.

We kept quite close to the right bank of the uninhabited quarter, but
on the same day we found ourselves in full flight before thousands of
the native Shillooks, who, with their light canoes of ambatch,
hastened to the bank, and in thick troops prepared to displace us. As
fate would have it, just as we were within sight of the dreaded
Shillooks, our sailyard broke, and we were compelled to seek the land.
Soon rose the cry, “They are coming! they are coming!” for in fact we
could see them dashing over the stream with incredible celerity, and
crowding their canoes as thick as ants. Hardly had we regained our
craft, and made some speedy preparations for defence against an
attack, when the foremost of the Shillook men, equipped for war,
carrying their tufted lances in their hands, showed themselves by the
banks which only now we had quitted. Apparently they came to offer
some negotiation with us in the way of traffic; but ours was the
ancient policy, “Danaos timentes,” and we pushed on.

Although, including Aboo Saramat’s party, we numbered full eighty
armed men, we could not help suspecting that as soon as the north-east
breeze should drop, by whose aid we were going along the stream
without a sail, the savages would take advantage of our bad situation
and inadequate fighting force to make an attack upon us.

[Illustration: IN FULL FLIGHT BEFORE THE SHILLOOK CANOES.]

[Sidenote: A HASTY RETREAT.]

This fear was not without reason; there were here, at a guess, at
least 10,000 Shillooks on their legs and 3000 ambatch canoes in motion
on the river. Accordingly we pushed up the stream, and had an
opportunity, from a more secure neighbourhood, to observe the
Shillooks more accurately. My telescope aided me in my investigation.
I saw crowds of men violently gesticulating and contending; I saw
women burdened with baskets loaded with poultry clapping their wings.
After a while the Shillooks, disappointed, began to vacate the bank
which we had left, and on the river could now be seen a redoubled
movement of the canoes, whilst opposite fresh multitudes poured in,
and gave to the whole scene the appearance of a general emigration of
the people.

Within the last three years the boats had been permitted with
reluctance, and only when several were together, to approach the shore
at this part of the stream, for here it had happened in one single
season that five vessels, the property of Khartoom merchants, as they
were coming down the river laden with ivory, were treacherously
attacked one after the other. The stratagem was employed of diverting
the attention of the crews by an exhibition of attractive merchandise;
while the Nubians were off their guard, at a given signal the
Shillooks fell upon them and butchered them without exception.
Gunpowder, rifles, and valuable ivory, all fell into their hands; the
vessels they burnt. Ghattas himself, the merchant who owned the vessel
by which I was travelling, suffered the loss of a costly cargo, while
eighty men on that occasion met with a violent death. Only the Reis
and one female slave escaped to Fashoda. Betimes they threw themselves
into the water, and concealing their heads with some water weeds,
floated on till the stream carried them out of the reach of harm.

On the following morning, after we had passed the mouth of the Giraffe
river, we were joined by a flotilla of six boats. As we reckoned now
nearly 350 armed men, we felt that we could venture without risk to
enter upon commercial transactions with the Shillooks. The disturbed
condition of the country had interfered to prevent them carrying about
their merchandise as usual, and they now were collected in unusual
numbers at the mart.

A mile away from the river-bank there were rows of dome-palms bounding
a broad level, on which was exhibited all the liveliness of ordinary
market-clatter. Busy and bustling, there were thousands congregated
together; but the fear this time was not on our side. From far and
near streamed in the natives; many brought baskets full of corn, eggs,
butter, beans, and ostrich-feathers; others offered poultry, tied
together in bunches, for sale: there was altogether the bustle of such
a market as only the largest towns could display. The area was hemmed
in by a guard of armed men, whose lances, like standing corn,
glittered in the sun. The sense of security raised the spirits of the
light-hearted sailors, and their merry Nubian songs rose cheerfully in
the air. Two hours slipped quickly away, while the necessary purchases
were being made, the medium of exchange being white or red glass
beads. Soon afterwards a favourable breeze sprung up. Everything was
still active in the market; fresh loads came teeming from the
villages; the outcry and gesticulations of the market people were as
excited as ever, when suddenly there boomed the signal to embark. The
confusion, the noise, the hurry which ensued baffle all description;
the Shillooks were in a panic, and, imagining that it must be all up
with them, scampered off and jostled each other in every direction.

[Sidenote: NUBIAN LOGIC.]

The propitious wind did not, however, prevent our people from finding
time to make a little _détour_ into the country, where they had the
luck to find some herdsmen who were trying to conceal a heifer amongst
the grass. There was a report of a gun, and the beast was stretched
upon the ground. A few minutes sufficed to quarter its carcase, and
the hide and the pieces were conveyed on board. Half-a-dozen kids and
some sheep were added to the stock, and so we proceeded on our way. In
the eyes of the people such plundering is deemed to be perfectly
legitimate for various reasons: first, because the Shillooks are
heathen; secondly, because some years before they had burnt five
Nubian vessels; thirdly and chiefly, because mutton and beef are very
choice eating, particularly after having been limited for a time to
durrapap. My tawny companions seemed to think that they knew a fourth
palliation for their proceeding, which consisted in this, that none
but themselves were capable of making a proper use of the goods of the
blacks. In the districts of the Upper Nile, wherever the breeding of
cattle is carried on, it is a custom of the negroes never to kill an
animal, but only to consume those which die naturally; the reason
obviously being, that they look upon the possession of living cattle
as the main object of their existence. With them, steers do the duty
of guineas and napoleons; the Nubians, therefore, jocosely affirm that
they swallow the guineas, which in the keeping of the heathen are
nothing better than so much dead capital.

We were not long in leaving the Shillook villages far behind. The
inhabited region seemed to recede as our boat made its way along the
water-course. The stream divided itself into a multitude of channels,
which threaded their way amidst a maze of islands. The distant rows of
acacias on either side were the only tokens to indicate the mainland.
This was the day on which we first saw the papyrus. To me, botanist as
I was, the event elevated the day to a festival. Here at a latitude of
9° 30´ N. are we now first able to salute this sire of immortal
thought, which centuries ago was just as abundant in Egypt as at
present it is on the threshold of the central deserts of Africa. I was
quite lost in admiration at the variety of production of the surface
of the water, to which the antique papyrus gave a noble finish. It
strikes the gaze like the creation of another world, and seems to
inspire a kind of reverence: although for days and weeks I was
environed by the marvellous beauties which enrich the flora of the
Nile, my eye was never weary of the vision of its graceful form.

The hindrances to our progress caused by the excessive vegetation
began now to give us some anxiety. All day long we were bewildered not
only by the multiplicity of channels, but by masses of grass, papyrus,
and ambatch, which covered the whole stream like a carpet, and even
when they opened gave merely the semblance of being passages. It is
quite possible that the diversion of its course to the east, which,
for sixty miles the Nile here takes, may check the progress of the
stream, and be in a measure the cause of such a strange accumulation
of water-plants. Certain it seems that neither any exceptional depth
of water, such as may occur in particular years, nor yet any general
overflow wider than usual, avails to exercise the slightest influence
upon this exuberant vegetation. Were it a coating of ice it would
split itself into fragments under the pressure of the stream, but here
is a real web of tough tangle, which blockades the entire surface.
Every here and there, indeed, the force of the water may open a kind
of rift, but not corresponding at all with the deeper and true channel
of the stream. Such a rift is not available for any passage of the
boats. The strain of the tension, which goes on without intermission,
has such an effect in altering the position of the weedy mass, that
even the most experienced pilot is at a loss how to steer,
consequently every voyage in winter is along a new course, and through
a fresh labyrinth of tangle. But in July, when the floods are at their
highest, navigation can be carried on along well nigh all the
channels, since the currents are not so strong, and the vessels are
able to proceed without detention to their destinations.

[Sidenote: GRASS TANGLE.]

Thick masses of little weeds float about the surface of the water, and
by forming a soft pulp, contribute an effectual aid to bind together
the masses of vegetation. Like a cement this conglomerate of weeds
fills up all the clefts and chasms between the grass and ambatch
islands, which are formed in the back-water where the position is
sheltered from the winds and free from the influence of the current.

There are two plants, at a superficial glance hardly distinguishable,
which perform the largest share in the formation of this compact web.
One of them is the thin-membraned water-fern, the _Azolla_; the other
(which is quite familiar to every visitor to the tank of the _Victoria
regia_) being the _Pistia_, which can hardly fail to recall a head of
lettuce. The sailors of the White Nile call it the “negro tobacco,”
probably with reference to the dwarfed growth of the two kinds of
tobacco in the negro lands. Besides these, our duck-weeds (_Lemna_)
and Tussieua of various sorts intertwine themselves with the mass, and
the different African representations of our commonest water-plants
play a part by no means unimportant.

It is remarkable that in Egypt nearly all the species of water-plants
which abound in the stream of the White Nile are wanting entirely;
whilst, on the other hand, all the shore-shrubs, which had their
native home in the neighbourhood of the Equator, pass over the
intervening districts and there find a settlement. Even the
conspicuous ambatch is, in Egypt, not known by name; and it is quite
an event when any of the fragments of the papyrus find their way so
far north. Every bit of wood which the river carries in its flood is
collected by the inhabitants of the Nubian valley, and not a scrap
escapes the keen look-out of the people, who are eager to compensate
for their lack of firewood. At the season when the waters are at their
height, the chase after floating wood is a daily occupation and a
favourite engagement of the boys.

On the 8th of February began our actual conflict with this world of
weeds. That entire day was spent in trying to force our boats along
the temporary openings. The pilots were soon absolutely at a loss to
determine by which channel they ought to proceed. On this account two
vessels were detached from the flotilla to investigate the possibility
of making a passage in a more northerly direction. Two hundred of our
people, sailors and soldiers, were obliged to lug with ropes for hours
together to pull through one boat after the other, while they walked
along the edge of the floating mass, which would bear whole herds of
oxen, as I subsequently had an opportunity of seeing.

Very singular was the spectacle of the vessels, as though they had
grown in the place where they were, in the midst of this jungle of
papyrus, fifteen feet high; whilst the bronzed, swarthy skins of the
naked Nubians contrasted admirably with the bright green which was
everywhere around. The shrieks and shouts with which they sought to
cheer on their work could be heard miles away. The very hippopotamuses
did not seem to like it; in their alarm they lifted their heads from
the shallows in which they had stationed themselves for respiration,
and snorted till the gurgling around was horrible. The sailors,
concerned lest by their bulk these unwieldy creatures should injure
the boats—not an unknown occurrence—gave vent to the full force of
their lungs. This unearthly clamour was indeed the solitary means of
defence at their command; in such a turmoil—men and boats in every
direction—firing a shot was not to be thought of.

[Illustration: THE VESSELS IN THE GRASS-BARRIER.]

[Sidenote: EL SETT: THE GRASS-BARRIER.]

This extraordinary grass-barrier had already been met with at the time
of Miss Tinné’s expedition in 1863; here again in the summer of 1872
was it found, strong as ever, offering for months its serious
impediments to navigation, and threatening to expose the crews to
destitution, if their provisions should fail. The enterprising
expedition of Sir Samuel Baker, in 1870-71, suffered repeated
hindrances at this spot. An attempt was made to employ machinery to
penetrate the mass, but steam-boats proved to be even less successful
than the ordinary boats in making any headway. The conflict in these
waters by means of wind and steam recalls what is not unfrequently
seen in Egypt when a lot of men try to drag a donkey through the mud.

In this laborious fashion we had to toil on for several days. It was
only by one of the side-arms of the blockaded mainstream that it was
possible to reach the mouth of the Gazelle River. To this backwater
the sailors give the name of “Maia Signora,” because the access to it
is stated to have been discovered by the pilots who conducted Miss
Tinné. Ever since the formation of the grass barrier (_el Sett_) there
has been no approach to the river of Gondokoro, the Bahr-el-Gebel,
except by a long side-arm called the Giraffe River, which is itself
almost equally blocked up. Upon the whole we were more fortunate than
our predecessors of previous years, because our journey chanced to
fall during one of the periodical seasons when the growth of the
ambatch is at a standstill. It happened therefore that of the three
obstacles which (besides the current and the shallows) are generally
to be expected, viz., grass, papyrus, and ambatch, one of the most
important did not occur. The close of our first day’s exertion found
us at night-fall on the southerly side of an island in mid-stream,
whence we witnessed a spectacle striking in its way. Through an
immense grove of acacias seventy feet high (_A. verugera_), which were
remarkable for their resemblance to pine-trees, there gleamed, with
the glare of day, the light of huge bonfires of faggots, which the
Shillooks had kindled on the opposite bank, and which gave to the tall
trees the effect of being truly gigantic.

Here on the 9th we tarried, and as it was the last woody district upon
which we could reckon until we arrived at the mouth of the
Bahr-el-Arab, we set to work to repair our broken sailyard. We were
close now to the region of the Nueir: and on the steppes beyond the
wood, we could see troops of them moving backwards and forwards; but
they kept at a distance, and showed no disposition to open any
negotiations with us. Footprints and various other indications leave
no doubt but that this district is the playground of elephants,
giraffes, wild buffaloes, and hyenas. Maraboo storks were abundant,
and would often come tolerably close to the resorts of men, but as
soon as they found themselves observed were careful to keep at a safe
distance. During our progress along the river I brought down very many
of these birds, and secured a quantity of their valuable feathers.
These I sent to Europe, and at a bazaar for the benefit of the sick
and wounded they realised a considerable sum. Maraboo feathers fetch
higher prices than ostrich feathers, yet it is very remarkable that
they are quite unknown in the commerce of Khartoom.

[Sidenote: NUBIAN SONGS.]

The temperature of the preceding days had been singularly fresh, and
consequently the plague of flies, from which previous travellers had
had to endure so much, did not at all molest us. We were, however,
provided on board with all the appliances to protect ourselves from
this nuisance, in case of need. Far into the night after these days of
prolonged exertion resounded the songs of the Nubians, and the
gourd-shells of merissa beer went round amid the native strains of
Berber and Dongola. As I did not thoroughly understand the dialect of
Dongola, I continually lost the exact purport of the words which were
sung. One with the other the Nubians often use this dialect, although
they just as frequently speak Arabic. Every now and then as they sung
I made them tell me the sense of separate sentences; my listening to
them seemed to delight them all, and I heard them saying behind my
back, “Pity that the man is not a Mussulman, or at least a Turk, then
what a capital fellow he would be!” To which another replied, “Turk,
indeed! who ever heard of a Turk troubling himself about our songs?
The Franks are worth a thousand of them!” The flattery took its effect
upon me, and I was moved at once to deliver a regular homily to my
people. Feeling like Cæsar among the pirates, I proceeded to say, “Did
you ever hear, you rascals of cow-stealers, about those ancestors of
yours, the Ethiopians of Meroë?” “Yes, indeed,” rejoined the Nubians,
“for many and many a verse did our ancient poets compose about them,
to celebrate their virtue; and they used to declare about the ruler of
the gods (for at that time we believed in many gods) if he couldn’t be
found in heaven it was because he was lingering amongst his darling
Ethiopians on earth. But now, we have Allah, the great Allah; besides
Allah we care for no other.”

“All very well;” I replied; “but where is the poet who can sing about
his love to you, incorrigible thieves as you are? Just mind then what
you are about for the future, and try to show that you are not
unworthy of your great ancestors.”

The next day was again employed in unrelaxed endeavours to penetrate
the grass-bound channels. The patches of papyrus became at once more
frequent and more extensive, and here once again, after being long
missed, is found the genuine Nile reed, the “shary” of the ancient
Egyptians—the same as the soof of the Bible—which always grows on
the shores of the mainland. Somewhat strangely the prevailing
river-grass in the upper waters, the _Vossia procera_, is called in
Arabic “Om-Soof,” the mother of wool. This appellation it derives from
the peculiar hairy character of its leaf-sheaths. These have the
disagreeable quality of covering the entire bodies of those who may be
at work in the grass with a thick down of adhesive bristles. The
sharpness of these and the scratches they inflict increase the
irksomeness of the daily labour at the grass barrier. Still the great
prairies amidst which the flood pursues its course afford an
inexhaustible pasturage; cattle, sheep, and horses, all graze upon
them, and no herbage is there that they prefer to the “Om-Soof.” At
the close of the day, we again arrived in open water, and laid up for
the night by the left bank, which presented a wide steppe entirely
bare of trees.

Up with the sun, with sails hoisted with a moderate breeze in our
favour, off we were on the following morning; short-lived, however,
was our propitious start. Too soon the open water branched out into a
labyrinth of channels, and the bewildered navigators lost all clue as
to the actual direction of the stream. The projections of the green
islets were always crowned with huge clumps of papyrus, which here
grows in detached masses. It probably delights most in quiet waters,
and so does not attain to the form of a high unbroken hedge, as on the
upper banks of the Gazelle, for here, on account of the numerous
stoppages, the stream flows through the narrow channels with
extraordinary violence. The strength of the stream often makes towing
impracticable, and the sailors often have considerable difficulty in
sailing through it to the papyrus bushes, when they want to attach to
their solid stems the ropes which are thrown out from their boats.
This was the way in which we from sheer necessity sustained the
resistance of the current. The depth of the channel was quite
sufficient in itself to allow us to proceed, as our vessels drew only
three feet of water; but the passage had become so contracted that at
sunset we fastened ourselves to the papyrus-stems, quite despairing of
ever being able to make further progress in this direction.

[Sidenote: HIPPOPOTAMUSES.]

It was one of those marvellous nights when the unwonted associations
of a foreign clime seem to leave an indelible impression on the memory
of the traveller. Here were the dazzling sparks of the glow-worm,
glaring upon us like a greeting from our far-off home, and in
countless masses glittering upon the dewy stalks of the floating
prairie. In the midst of these were fastened our boats, hemmed in as
firmly as though they were enclosed by polar ice. Loud was the rushing
of the stream as it forced a way along its contracted course; but
louder still was the incessant splashing of the emerging
hippopotamuses, which had been driven by the vessels, as it were, into
a corner, and were at a loss, like ourselves, how to go on or to
retreat. Until daybreak their disquietude continued, and it seemed as
though their numbers kept increasing, till there was quite a crowd of
them. Already during the afternoon they had afforded a singular sight:
whilst about half of our men were wading in shallow water and
straining at the ropes, they found that they had entirely enclosed no
less than six hippopotamuses, whose huge flesh-coloured carcases,
dappled with brown, rose above the surface of the water in a way but
rarely seen. A cross-fire was opened upon them from several vessels,
but I could not make any use of my elephant rifle, because about 200
of our men were towing upon my line of sight. The clumsy brutes
snorted and bellowed, and rolled against each other in their
endeavours to escape; their ponderous weight bore down the tangle of
the water-growth, and the splashing was prodigious.

Four days had now been consumed in this strain and struggle; after a
final and unavailing effort on the fifth day, there seemed no
alternative but to go back and make trial of another and more
northerly branch of this bewildering canal-system. We succeeded in our
retrograde movement so far as to attain an open basin, and found that
we had only the distance of about 200 feet to get over, in order that
we might reach the spot whereat the various streams of the Upper Nile
unite. This place on the maps is distinguished by the name of Lake No,
but the sailors always call it Mogren-el-Bohoor, _i.e._, the mouth of
the streams. The difficulties which met us here were apparently quite
hopeless. Our boats were not only heavily laden with corn, but, formed
of the heaviest wood, their build was unusually broad and massive. Yet
heavy and unwieldy as they were there was no alternative than
literally to drag them over the grass. By dint, however, of main
force, before the day was out the task was accomplished. The grass
mass itself was lifted and pushed in front, whilst the men turned
their backs against the sides of the boats, and pressed them on from
behind. I was the only passenger to remain on board, because being
fearful of a chill which might result in fever, I could not venture
into the water.

What the maps call Lake No is merely the expanded mouth of the meeting
waters. The current flowing from the south from the Bahr-el-Gebel
passes along its apparent shores, which are projecting masses of
papyrus. In order to reach the Gazelle it is necessary to bend
westwards along the gradually narrowing lake-basin. At no season of
the year is this water otherwise than shallow; even at the time of our
retrograde voyage, when the floods were highest, we stranded more than
once. Floating islands of papyrus of considerable extent were visible
every here and there, and broke the uniformity of the expanse.

The passage which leads to the Gazelle has the essential properties of
running water, although the stream itself is in winter scarcely
perceptible. The river, however, is surrounded by such a multiplicity
of backwaters and waters remaining in old river-beds, that the united
volume of such a number of streams as I saw emptying themselves into
it, at various times, through some hundreds of miles, could not
possibly find its exit through this single channel alone. Petherick,
in 1863, at the period when the water-floods were as low as possible,
estimated the volume of waters to be rolling on at the rate of 3042
cubic feet a second; but he must have referred simply to the navigable
channel at the mouth, without intending to represent that the
calculation referred to the entire mass of the waters.

It remains still a matter of dispute which of the two currents should
be considered as the main stream. According to analogy, as the Sobat
is related to the Blue Nile, so the Bahr-el-Gebel is to the
Bahr-el-Abiad, just as the Blue Nile is to the Nile of Egypt.

[Sidenote: THE GAZELLE.]

One of the objects contemplated in my journey was to show the
importance of the western affluents of the Nile which unite in the
Gazelle; and I have given evidence that, one way and another, they
traverse a region of not less than 150,000 square miles. When I
mention that in 1863 Speke called the Gazelle “an unimportant
branch,”[11] and moreover that Baker has spoken of its magnitude with
great depreciation, in reply, I might allude to another interesting
fact in geographical annals. Not only did Bruce, a hundred years ago,
suppose that he had discovered the sources of the Nile in Abyssinia,
just where a hundred years previously they had been marked upon the
Portuguese maps; but he represented the Bahr-el-Abiad as an
inconsiderable stream, which joined the stream of his discovery at
Halfaya, Khartoom at that time being not in existence. But it is
absolutely impossible that Bruce could have returned from Sennaar to
Berber along the left bank of the Blue Nile, and could have crossed at
its mouth from the very spot where Khartoom now stands, without being
aware that close behind him there was rolling its waters a stream as
broad again as the Blue Nile. The record of his travels does not
contain one word about the White Nile. The plain truth is that the
White Nile was overlooked and disparaged, because it would have thrown
his Blue Nile in the shade.[12] Ismail Pasha was quite right in saying
that every fresh African traveller had his own private sources of the
Nile; but for my part I am not at all ashamed to confess that I have
not found them.

The wind was favourable, and so long as the course maintained a
north-westerly direction we made a rapid progress. The main channel
gradually contracted, however, and deviated into many abrupt
meanderings, which had to be traversed by pushing and driving with
poles. Here, too, the apparent banks consisted of floating
grass-tangle, though further off the pasturing herds of the Dinka
showed the true position of the mainland, whilst the ridge of forest
beyond indicated the limit to which the inundations had extended.
North of the mouth of the Gazelle the boundaries of the Shillooks and
the Dinka meet each other, and the intervening territory is inhabited
by the Nueir.

[Sidenote: A GHATTAS BIRD.]

In some places amongst the grass-tangle I made an attempt to botanize,
and out of the numerous holes I fished up a variety of most
interesting plants. The Gazelle is specially noted for the beauty of
its water-lilies (_Nymphæa stellata_ and _N. lotus_). Blossoms of
these, in every variety of hue—white, blue, and crimson—well-nigh
everywhere adorn the surface of the water; rooted below they project
their long stalks and leaves through the apertures, like fishes, in
the winter, to catch the air through holes in the ice. Should any one
make a grasp at a blossom and fail to make good his hold, it may
happen that the entire plant will make an elastic rebound and
disappear beneath the grass. During the afternoon our course was N.W.
and W.N.W., which is the general direction of the Gazelle throughout
its lower half. The stream became wider again, the banks continuing to
be lined by an impenetrable grass jungle. Remarkable dark-coloured
water-birds (_Plotus melanogaster_) are found in considerable numbers
upon the shores, intent upon making prey of small fishes. They settle
upon the bushes, and one may every now and then be seen to make a
sudden dive into the water, bring up a little fish in its beak, and
resume its previous perch. Amongst the people of Khartoom this bird is
called the “Ghattas,” a name which invested it with a special interest
to me as being the name of my temporary protector.

For some few days past, just before sunset, great masses of tiny green
flies had made their appearance. Although these were in no respect
injurious, yet the buzzing they made and the choking cough which was
caused by their numbers were anything but agreeable. Shortly after
dark they retreated, only to appear again in the early dawn. Much more
pertinacious were the spotty-legged gnats, which now began to torment
us when the nights were not cool enough to disperse them. Everybody on
board had provided himself for protection with a sack made of calico
in which he slept, the result of which was ordinarily a temperature of
some 80° Fahr., about the same as a regular vapour-bath. These gnats
did not buzz about with so loud a noise, but their sting was much more
decided. They might not cause such a lasting itching as some of their
northern kindred, but the knack they had of finding a way for their
proboscis through the thickest cotton till it reached one’s skin, made
it only possible to keep them off by means of mosquito-nets. But
altogether I reckoned this visitation as hardly worth the notice of a
traveller who had grown up amongst the gnats of the teeming marshes of
the north.

The Bahr-el-Ghazal may in some respects be compared to the Havel as it
flows between Potsdam and Brandenburg; the two rivers are not
dissimilar in their excess of floating vegetation, composed of plants
which, to a great extent, are identical in their generic character.
Frequently the breadth is not more than enough for a single vessel,
but the depth could not be fathomed by our longest poles, and so
revealed what was the enormous volume of water concealed by the carpet
of grass for two hundred paces on either hand. What ordinarily appears
to be land assumes at high water the aspect of an extensive lake. The
general uniformity of level prevents any extensive range of vision;
but I had only to mount the roof of my cabin, and, by observing the
distance between the woods that skirted the prospect, I could
approximately estimate the width of the river-bed. Nowhere did it
appear to me to extend, like the valley of the Egyptian Nile, to a
breadth of eight miles; and certainly, without further evidence, I
cannot agree with former travellers, who describe it as being a lake
or marsh of which the boundaries are unlimited.

[Illustration: Balæniceps Rex.]

[Sidenote: BALÆNICEPS REX.]

Neither crocodiles nor hippopotamuses are here to be observed. The
absence of settled river-banks prohibits the Upper Nile from being the
resort of the former; the deficiency of sand-banks would permit no
life to the latter, which therefore make good their retreat to the
narrower streams of the interior.

The second day of our voyage along the river brought us to the
district tenanted by the Nueir. We found them peacefully pasturing
their flocks and herds beside their huts, and betraying nothing like
fear. They had been represented to me as an intelligent people;
seeming to know what they had to expect or to dread, they were
disposed for friendly intercourse with the Khartoom people, who, in
their turn, were not inclined to commit any act of violence upon their
territory. Two years and a half later, at the period of our return,
all this was unfortunately changed, and landing was impossible.

Most of the Nueir villages lie on a spot where the Gazelle makes a
bend from a north-east to a south-westerly direction. As we were
making our way past the enclosures which lie on either side of the
stream, my attention was arrested by the sight of a number of some of
the most remarkable birds that are found in Africa. Strutting along
the bank, they were employing their broad bills to grope in the slimy
margins of the stream for fish. The bird was the _Balæniceps Rex_, a
curiosity of the rarest kind, known amongst the sailors as the
Abu-Markoob (or slipper-shape), a name derived from the peculiar form
of its beak. It scientific name is due to the disproportionate
magnitude of its head. Before 1850 no skins of this bird had been
conveyed to Europe; and it appeared unaccountable to naturalists how a
bird of such size, not less than four feet high, and of a shape so
remarkable, should hitherto have remained unknown; they were not aware
that its habitat is limited to a narrow range, which it does not quit.
Except by the Gazelle and in the central district of the
Bahr-el-Gebel, the Balæniceps has never been known to breed.

The first that appeared I was fortunate enough to hit with a rifle
ball, which wounded it in its back, and brought it down: we measured
its wings, and found them to be more than six feet across. Another was
struck, but although it was pursued by an active party of Nubians, it
effected an escape. As generally observed, the bird is solitary, and
sits in retired spots; its broad beak reclines upon its crop, and it
stands upon the low ground very much as it is represented in the
accompanying illustration: it rarely occupies the ant-hills which
every here and there rise some feet above the vegetation. The great
head of the bird rises over the tall blades of grass and ever betrays
its position. Its general structure would class it between a pelican
and a heron, whilst its legs resemble those of a maraboo; it snaps
with its beak, and can make a clattering noise like the stork. This
Balæniceps would seem to furnish a proof that not everything in nature
is perfectly adapted to its end, for when the birds are full grown,
they never have their beaks symmetrical. The upper part does not
correspond with the lower; the two members fall apart, and, like an
old woman’s jaws, go all awry. The colour of their plumage in winter
is a dingy light brown, their wings are black, and they seem to fly
with difficulty, carrying their ungraceful heads upon their necks at
full stretch, like a heron. They build in the rainy season, always
close to the open water, forming their great nests of ambatch-stalks.

At the next groups of huts we made a stop, and did some bartering with
the Nueir, who brought sheep and goats for exchange. Here, in the
heart of the Nueir population, in a district called Nyeng, we fixed
our quarters until the 16th. I made use of the time to spend the whole
day in my ambatch-canoe, collecting the water-plants from the river.

[Sidenote: THE NUEIR.]

The Nueir are a warlike tribe, somewhat formidable to the Dinka. They
occupy a territory by the mouths of the two tributaries of the White
Nile, and are evidently hemmed in by hostile neighbours. In most of
their habits they resemble alike the Shillooks and the Dinka, although
in their dialect they differ from both. The pasturage of herds is
their chief pursuit. The traveller who would depict their
peculiarities must necessarily repeat much of what he has already
recorded about the other tribes. With regard to apparel it will
suffice to say that the men go absolutely naked, the women are
modestly girded, and the girls wear an apron formed of a fringe of
grass. Their hair is very frequently dyed of a tawny-red hue by being
bound up for a fortnight in a compo of ashes and cow-dung; but
occasionally it is cut quite short. Some of them weave cotton threads
into a kind of peruke, which they stain with red ochre, and use for
decoration where natural locks are not abundant. Their huts resemble
those of the Dinka; always clean, the dwellings are surrounded by a
trampled floor; the sleeping-place inside is formed of ashes of
cow-dung, burnt perfectly white, and is warmer and better than any
mosquito-net.

Nowhere in the world could a better illustration be afforded of the
remarkable law of Nature which provides that similar conditions of
existence should produce corresponding types amongst all ranks of
animal creation. It does not admit of a doubt that men and beasts in
many districts of which the natural features are in marked contrast to
the surrounding parts do exhibit singular coincidences, and that they
do display a certain agreement in their tendencies. The confirmation
of this resemblance which is offered by the Shillooks, the Nueir, and
the Dinka is very complete; these tribes, stationed on the low marshy
flats which adjoin the river, are altogether different in habit to
those which dwell among the crags and rocks of the interior. “They
give the impression,” says my predecessor Heuglin, “that amongst men
they hold very much the same place that flamingoes, as birds, hold
with reference to the rest of the feathered race;” and he is right.
The dwellers in these marsh-lands would probably have a web between
their toes were it not compensated by the flatness of their feet and
the unusual prolongation of the heel. Another remarkable similarity is
the way in which, like the birds of the marshes, they are accustomed
for an hour at a time to stand motionless on one leg, supporting the
other above the knee. Their leisurely long stride over the rushes is
only to be compared to that of a stork. Lean and lanky limbs, a long,
thin neck on which rests a small and narrow head, give a finishing
touch to the resemblance.

Leaving the last dwellings of the Nueir behind us, we arrived on the
following day at the first wood which is to be observed on the banks
of the Gazelle. Ant-hills of more than ten feet high are here
scattered in every direction, and alone break the universal levelness
of the plain. They are not unfrequently found in the heart of a
thicket, because originally the stem of a tree served as the central
axis of the earthy structure. Dead and withered though this had been,
it sprouted out afresh from the roots, provided that these had been
uninjured by the passages of the ants. Vestiges of the floods are
traceable upon them, and show that the average difference between the
highest and lowest level of the water is from three to four feet.

[Sidenote: ALONG THE GAZELLE.]

The river wends its way through charming wood-scenery, meandering
amidst groves gay with the red bindweed (_Ipomæa_), amidst which now
and then a tall tamarind uprears itself. Here I met with a fresh
representative of the flora of Central Africa in the tree-like
Euphorbia with its arms outspread like candelabras. This can be
distinguished from the Euphorbia of the Abyssinian highlands,
mentioned in Chapter I., by the involved confusion of its branches.
Its eccentric shapes would seem to fill a place in Africa which in
America is supplied by the order of the Cactaceæ; it also serves like
the Mexican Cereus for the enclosure of estates, as slips taken from
its branches readily take root in the ground. The sportsman could here
reckon on a good bag, for the widow-ducks which swarmed upon the
papyrus were brought down at every shot, and were serviceable for the
table. Our people were all expert swimmers, and they continually
fished out of the stream the birds which were struck, while their
sport in no way ever hindered the progress of our craft.

The wind next day was not propitious, and the boats were obliged to
stay beside a grass tangle by the bank. I made use of the detention to
enjoy a little fishing for water-plants. The water-lilies surpassed
all description, and would adorn any Victoria-house. Unfortunately I
could not succeed in transferring to this region the queen of the
waters. The _Victoria regia_ seed, which I had brought for the purpose
in pots, would never germinate; perhaps, although it was preserved in
water, the heat of my cabin during my voyage was too great and
destroyed its vitality. I can only boast of having naturalised in this
district of Central Africa two plants as representatives of culture in
Europe—the sun-flower and the tomato. The river, which is ordinarily
about 300 feet wide, abounds in thick masses of potamogeton, trapa,
and yellow ottelia. The seeds of this last plant much resemble the
sesamum, growing like the seeds of the Nymphæa in a slimy gelatinous
mass; they are collected by the natives, and, after being dried, are
pounded down into a sort of meal, which the sailors of Khartoom
assured me was a wholesome and excellent remedy for indigestion. It
surprised me very much to learn that the eatableness of the water-nut
(_Trapa_) was unknown to the Dinka, although it grew in such abundance
on the river.

We landed, towards evening, close below the mouth of the Bahr-el-Arab
in a forest of lofty trees, where the West African _Stephegyne_
appears to find its extreme eastern limit. The wood of this species of
Rubiaceæ is somewhat soft and light, but its branches make masts for
the boats of a strength and straightness unequalled by any other
growth in these countries, where wood adapted for erections of any
sort is so notably scarce.

The Gazelle, at the place where the Bahr-el-Arab empties itself, has a
width of about 1000 feet. This mouth is itself not much less, but just
above the mouth the condition of the Gazelle is so different that it
must be evident to every sailor that the Bahr-el-Arab plays a very
important part in contributing to the entire system.

What the sailors mean by the Bahr-el-Ghazal is really only the channel
as far as they navigate it; to them it is not a stream, in a
hydrographical sense, such as either the Bahr-el-Arab or the
Bahr-el-Dyoor. It is only at the mouth of the Bahr-el-Arab that there
first appears a measurable current, and the fairway, which up to that
point is not above 15 feet deep, is subsequently never less than twice
that depth. After getting every information I could in the remotest
west, I come to the conclusion that the Bahr-el-Arab is the main
stream. Even at a distance of 300 miles above its mouth it is found
throughout the year as a stream which cannot be forded, but must be
crossed in boats, whilst the Bahr-el-Dyoor cannot be traced at all at
so great a distance from its union with the Nile. The plains through
which the Gazelle flows are too level to allow of any recognition at
first sight of the true limits of the territory subject to its
inundations. Any one, however, who is familiar with the character of
the vegetation of the country, will easily detect symptoms from which
he could form a tolerably correct opinion. Accordingly, on my return
journey in 1871, I gathered ample evidence to satisfy myself that the
Gazelle, associated as it is with the Bahr-el-Arab and the
Bahr-el-Dyoor, is a river just as truly as either of the others. The
fall of the water in the Gazelle is only produced by the torrent
driven from the south and west, and may hardly admit of being
estimated, since the entire difference measured between Khartoom and
the Meshera (the termination of the navigable course) does not
altogether amount to 100 feet.

[Sidenote: STREAM OF THE GAZELLE.]

An important change in the scenery of the shores supervenes upon a
further progress. The lake-like surface of the water gives to the
Bahr-el-Ghazal the semblance at first sight of being merely an
extensive backwater. That just above the mouth of a stream so
considerable as the Bahr-el-Arab there should be this abundance of
water at the very time of the year when it is at its lowest ebb, is a
circumstance which cannot fail to confirm the supposition which I
entertained when I entered the Gazelle: I was certain that the narrow
channel through which we travelled in the district of the Nueir could
not possibly be the entire river; and there surely must exist to the
north of the river other not inconsiderable arms, which are
inaccessible on account of the denseness of the river grass.

Unhindered by any material obstacles, our course now lay between
floating islands, which were partly adorned with variegated blossoms,
and partly loaded with a luxuriant growth of splendid ferns. The poles
sufficed to keep the boats from the floating vegetation, the masses of
which were as unyielding as though they had been sheets of ice. It was
evident by the motion of these masses, that the current, though it
flowed languidly, had a continued progress towards the east. The river
only varies in depth from about 8 to 14 feet. The bed presents the
appearance of a meadow, in which little bright tortoises enjoy their
pasture. This submerged sward is composed exclusively of the Ethiopian
vallisneria, of which the female blossoms, affixed to spiral
peduncles, rise from a fathom deep to the surface of the stream, their
coiling stalks extending far and wide. Very wonderful is this plant in
its sexual development; its northern sisters haunt the waters of the
Po and of the Rhone, and have furnished a theme for the admiration of
the poet.

Far away, on either side, beyond the flooded borders of the grassy
river-bed could be discerned, at a distance of a league or two, large
tracts of forest land; and between the river and the line of woods
which stretched to the horizon there could be observed the cumbrous
shapes of elephants going to and fro, and demonstrating that there at
least the land was firm.

The channel, which we rapidly passed along under favourable breezes,
became continually broader, and the nearer we approached the river
source, the more the banks seemed to recede from each other. The sight
of men, fishing out of canoes formed by a couple of hollow stems being
fastened together, made us aware that we were approaching the
dwellings of the Dinka, and soon after we came upon the enclosures for
cattle surrounded by low thatch huts upon the left bank. Sailing on
towards the south and south-east, we approximated to the limit of our
voyage. A great cracking up in the air revealed to us that the
sailyard had once more broken, so that it was only by main force, by
pushing and pulling, that we managed to reach a large Dinka village,
which lay on the west, almost at the extremity of the stream. Here was
the _cul-de-sac_, to which the Dinka have given the name of the Kyt.
We had quite recently passed the mouth of the Dyoor, which appears to
separate into several streams; but if my attention had not been called
to this circumstance by the Reis, I should certainly never have
observed it, on account of the uniform features of that watery region.
In our delight at having so quickly, and without misadventure,
accomplished our passage up the Gazelle, we had a night of feasting
and merry-making.

[Sidenote: MESHERA ON THE GAZELLE.]

The remainder of the journey was soon completed, and in the early
morning hours of the 22nd of February we found ourselves at the
Meshera, the landing-place of all who resort to the Gazelle. This
place is marked in the maps as Port Rek, called so from the Rek, a
section of the Dinka. These Rek people were the first allies among the
natives that the new comers had acquired, and they had been accustomed
to provide them with bearers long before the Khartoom merchants had
established any settlements in the interior. Deducting the days on
which we had not proceeded, our boats had taken thirty days in going
from Khartoom to the Meshera. I had been anxious to make a good
investigation of the river banks; otherwise the voyage might easily be
accomplished in twenty days.

Above the mouth of the Dyoor, so difficult of access, the deep channel
is continued for a space of sixteen miles, when it forms the
_cul-de-sac_ which I have mentioned: there is not the least current
when the waters are all at their height; but in March and April there
may at some places be observed a retrograde motion of the stream. It
is manifestly an ancient bed of the Dyoor, or of some river which in
the lapse of time has changed its course. It is not easy to explain
it, but the stream seemed to me, as I think I could farther
demonstrate, the navigable overflow of some inland liman, that is, the
receptacle of a number of considerable rivulets meeting together,
something like what the delta of the Canton river would be, if it
could be levelled, filled up, and carried away inland. The uniform
depth of the channel might seem to originate in some freak in the
conformation of the ground, or of the masses of vegetation, which are
irregularly scattered about; but really it is only an indication of a
condition of things long passed away, when the mainstream flowed
through better defined and more contracted borders.

Let us for a moment review the impressions we have gained. The volume
of water brought by the Gazelle to swell the Nile is still an unsolved
problem. In the contention as to which stream is entitled to rank as
first-born among the children of the great river god, the
Bahr-el-Ghazal has apparently a claim in every way as valid as the
Bahr-el-Gebel. In truth, it would appear to stand in the same relation
to the Bahr-el-Gebel as the White Nile does to the Blue. At the season
when the waters are highest, the inundations of the Gazelle spread
over a very wide territory; about March, the time of year when they
are lowest, the river settles down, in its upper section, into a
number of vast pools of nearly stagnant water, whilst its lower
portion runs off into divers narrow and sluggish channels. These
channels, overgrown as they look with massy vegetation, conceal
beneath (either in their open depth, or mingled with the unfathomable
abyss of mud) such volumes of water as defy our reckoning. The Gazelle
then it is which gives to the White Nile a sufficient impetus to roll
its waters onward; subsequently the Bahr-el-Gebel finds its way and
contributes a more powerful element to the progress of the stream. It
must all along be borne in mind that there are besides two other
streams, the Dyoor and the Bahr-el-Arab, each of them more important
than any tributary of the Bahr-el-Gebel; and these bring in their own
influence. To estimate aright the true relation of all these various
tributaries is ever opening up the old question in a new light.

[Sidenote: THE KYT.]

The ramifications above the mouth of the Bahr-el-Arab are very
complicated, and must be very imperfectly traced on our present maps.
The map issued by Lejean has many details, but must be accepted with
caution, and requires us to remember that paper is patient of error as
well as of truth. Whoever has traversed the lakes (so to call them) to
the west of the Bahr-el-Arab, has, almost immediately beyond the mouth
of the Dyoor, come upon the winding channel known as “the Kyt.” The
shores of the Kyt are firm; there are detached groups of papyrus
driven by the wind sometimes to its one bank, and sometimes to the
other: its waters rise and fall, but have no other apparent motion; it
widens at its extremity into a basin of papyrus, which was now open,
but which in 1863 was entirely choked by ambatch. Heuglin, at that
date, discerned, as he thought, in the dwindled and distorted stems a
prognostication of an approaching disappearance of the ambatch; and
from 1869 to 1871 there was no trace of it, Various openings are made
by the water towards the west among the masses of papyrus, which
enclose a labyrinth of little wooded islets.[13] One of these islands
is the resting-place for the boats, and close at hand the voyagers
establish their temporary camp. Being surrounded on every side by the
water, all is secure from any hostile attack. The regular
landing-place is on the southern shore of the basin, and thence
commence the expeditions to the interior.

Such is the channel which, from the times of the earliest explorers,
which appear to extend from the date of Nero’s centurions, mentioned
by Seneca, up to the mercantile enterprises and voyages of discoveries
of the last ten years, has always brought boats to that _cul-de-sac_,
called by the Nubian sailors their Meshera. The first boat, which
actually entered the Gazelle, was that of a Khartoom merchant, named
Habeshy, in 1854; two years later followed Consul Petherick, the first
to open mercantile transactions with the tribes resident in these
remote regions.

At that time, when nothing was known either of the Dyoor or of the
Bahr-el-Arab, it must have been no small surprise to the first
explorers to see a stream so large suddenly end amongst a labyrinth of
small islands, without any navigable affluent. Only by the help of a
native pilot was such a discovery possible.

[Illustration: The Meshera.]

[Sidenote: MALARIOUS ATMOSPHERE.]

I was compelled to linger out the remainder of February and the
greater part of March in camp upon the little island, pending the
arrival of the bearers who were to help me onwards to Ghattas’s
Seriba. I was happy in escaping any ill effects such as might be
dreaded from a protracted residence by this unhealthy river. I
attributed my immunity in great measure to the precautionary use of
quinine. Although by my daily occupations, botanising in swamps and
continually wading amongst papyrus clumps, I had been more exposed to
malaria than many others, I experienced no sickness. I swallowed every
day, in three doses, eight or nine grains of quinine, enclosed for
that purpose in gelatine capsules; this method is to be strongly
recommended to every traveller, since the intense bitterness of the
medicine taken in its undisguised form may excite a degree of nausea
which, I can well believe, may contribute its part to a liability to
fever. This treatment I continued, without its having any ill effect
upon my constitution, until I could dispense with it in the purer air
of the interior. I suppose, since this is not an universal experience,
that the effects of the alkaloids may vary with different patients,
and therefore it would be well for every one first to test the
susceptibility of his individual constitution.

It is only too well known how many victims this treacherous climate
has already claimed; it may without exaggeration be maintained, that
half the travellers who have ventured into the swamps have succumbed
to fever. The highest mortality was in the settlements of the Austrian
mission in Gondokoro and St. Cross, now long since abandoned. Miss
Tinné’s expedition of 1863 suffered the loss of five out of its nine
European members, among them my unfortunate predecessor in the
botanical investigation of this district, Dr. Steudner, who died
suddenly quite at the beginning of the journey. Heuglin, too, lost the
greater part of his valuable time in continual relapses of fever. The
foundations of these miserable attacks had probably been laid in the
miasma, of which the traveller had inhaled the poison during a
protracted sojourn in the Meshera. The latest Job’s comfort, which had
most unnerved me, had come just as I was embarking at Trieste. The
French Geographical Society had, a few months previously, sent out Le
Saint, a naval officer, on a voyage of discovery, having for its
object the same district as myself, viz., the Niam-niam countries. His
outward journey had been much lengthened by the grass obstruction in
the Giraffe stream, and he died before he entered the country in which
his more extended wanderings were designed to commence.

Before quitting the Meshera (the only landing-place for expeditions
starting from the Gazelle) I will make a few observations on the
natural character, scenery, and inhabitants of the region of this
unique island world.

The Meshera had been reached by eighteen different boats belonging to
Khartoom merchants, and these now lay, half-buried in mud and clay,
firmly wedged in the jungle of papyrus. Every new comer could only by
great exertions procure a fresh resting-place. For that purpose they
proceeded in the following way: they backed their boat a little into
the open water, and anchored; then a rope was fastened to a strong
mass of papyrus-roots, which it towed with its loosened clods attached
into open water, until the breeze carried over the entire floating
mass to the opposite side of the basin. Thus was obtained one
artificial Delos after another. The access to the bank is, however,
still left blocked up by the compact border of papyrus thus conveyed
across. By means of fire and hatchet avenues are then opened, and the
long roots of papyrus are piled upon the elastic sward of its stubble
until an available pathway is complete.

Most of the islands are adorned by graceful masses of bushes and by
light groves of the larger trees, but the hatchet of strangers every
year is altering this condition of things. In spite of all the
uniformity of the tall papyrus bushes, and notwithstanding the burnt
and dry appearance of the steppe-grasses, there is no lack, even in
the mild winter of this little island-world, of the charms of scenery.
The dark crowns of the evergreen tamarind stand out in sharp outline
against the bare rugged branches of the acacias in their grey winter
garb, between which the eccentric shapes of the candelabra-euphorbiæ,
closely interlaced, bound the horizon in every direction, and form, as
often as the eye wanders over the neighbouring islands, a fine
gradation of endless shades of colour. This is especially noticeable
in the early morning, when at sunrise a heavy mist hangs over the damp
flats, and sometimes here, sometimes there, sets limits to the
prospect, in a way that would lend enchantment to any scenery.

[Sidenote: SECURITY IN THE MESHERA.]

Protected by the endless ramifications of the marshes against any
attacks of dangerous quadrupeds from the mainland, the sojourner here
had only the most determined of all depredators to fear, namely, man
himself. But even this fear was not really great. Nowhere on the face
of the earth is a country more surrendered to robbery and lawlessness
than this district of Africa; but still, as ever, one form of mischief
balances another: man is a match for man; and so it results that the
stranger may find repose and security here as much as elsewhere. The
natives, who occupy the entire land in a wide circumference from the
Meshera, form a portion of the great Dinka family, whose extreme
outposts extend eastwards towards the Egyptian borders of Upper
Sennaar, and whose tribes are counted by the hundred.

One of the most influential personages of the neighbouring race of the
Lao was a woman, already advanced in years, of the name of Shol. She
played an important part as a sort of chief in the Meshera, her
riches, according to the old patriarchal fashion, consisting of
cattle. As wealthy as cattle could make her, she would long since have
been a prey to the Nubians, who carry on their ravages principally in
those regions, if it had not chanced that the intruders needed her for
a friend. They required a convenient and secure landing-place, and the
paramount necessity of having this induced them to consider plunder as
a secondary matter. They provided in this way, that single boats, even
after all others had taken their departure, could safely remain in the
Meshera throughout the rainy season without incurring any risk from
the natives. The boatmen accordingly respect the bank of the river
which is the resort of Shol’s herds; whilst Shol, on her part, uses
all her influence to retain her tribe on friendly terms with the
strangers. The smallest conflict might involve the entire loss of her
property.

The old Shol did not delay, but the very first day came to my boat to
visit me. On account of the colour of my skin, the Nubians had told
her that I was a brother of the Sigñora (Miss Tinné). My pen fails in
any attempt to depict her repulsiveness. Her naked negro skin was
leathery, coarse, and wrinkled; her figure was tottering and
knocked-kneed; she was utterly toothless; her meagre hair hung in
greasy locks; round her loins she had a greasy slip of sheepskin, the
border of which was tricked out with white beads and iron rings; on
her wrists and ankles she had almost an arsenal of metal, links of
iron, brass, and copper, strong enough to detain a prisoner in his
cell; about her neck were hanging chains of iron, strips of leather,
strings of wooden balls, and heaven knows what lumber more. Such was
old Shol.

A soldier, who had formerly been a Dinka slave, acted as interpreter.
For the purpose of impressing me with a due sense of the honour of the
visit and in the hope of getting a present, he began to extol Shol and
to enlarge upon the multitude of her cattle. All the sheep-farms, of
which the smoke rose so hospitably to the stranger, were hers; hers
were all the bullock runs along the river banks; the murahs which
extended in every direction of the compass without exception, were
hers; she had at least 30,000 head of cattle; in addition to which I
could form no conception of the iron and copper rings and chains which
filled her stores.

After this introduction the conversation turned upon Miss Tinné, who
remained fresh upon the memory of all. Her liberality in making
presents of beads had secured her a fame like Schiller’s “Mädchen aus
der Fremde,” the spring, who brought a gift for every one. The old
Shol could not refrain from expressing her surprise that Miss Tinné
should be unmarried; as an African she could not comprehend how a lady
that was rich could be without a husband.

[Sidenote: THE OLD SHOL.]

Very strange were the domestic and family relationships of Shol when
considered in contrast with her public position, her present
influence, and her excessive wealth. After the death of her first
husband she had become the wife of his son by a previous marriage. She
had thus raised this man, who was younger than herself, to the rank of
prince consort. His name was Kurdyook. I had a visit from him on the
following day. From his intercourse with the traders he could speak
Arabic intelligibly. Like the rest, he was loud in his praises of Miss
Tinné, and in her honour he had called the child of one of his
concubines “the Sigñora.” Plainly there was a longing after the
culture of European refinement, and let us hope that it will not stop
at the name.

[Illustration: The old Shol.]

Of course, in comparison with his wife, he was quite destitute of
lands; he was a mere cypher as far as any influence on the tribe was
concerned, but yet he exercised a terror over Shol, which, under the
circumstances, was quite incredible. He was accustomed to chastise
this dame, who was at once his stepmother and his spouse, and to act
towards her in the most brutal manner, although she was herself in the
habit, perchance as a token of her dignity, of carrying in her hand
several knotted thongs like a cat-o’-nine-tails.

With rambles in the neighbourhood and in receiving a succession of
visitors, I found the days pass pleasantly away. On the mainland
towards the north there were several more important villages, composed
of permanent dwellings and fixed enclosures for oxen. To these I
constantly resorted, and the concourse of so many men coming out of
curiosity to look at me, entertained me very much. Failure alike both
of water and food during the dry season had driven old Shol herself to
one of the islands adjacent to the landing-place; here in some
wretched huts not far from our boats she had taken up her residence in
the midst of a quantity of her cattle. I occasionally paid her a
visit, for the purpose of penetrating to the mysteries of her dairy.

[Sidenote: INTERCHANGE OF PRESENTS.]

On the 26th of February the old queen came to the tent which I
occupied on the island, having been informed that the presents
designed for her majesty there awaited her. On this occasion she had a
costume somewhat different. She had made a fresh selection of her
paraphernalia from her iron rings and chains, and so arrayed herself
anew. I had prepared everything for a stately reception, as I was
anxious to leave behind me an impression as favourable as Miss Tinné.
There were beads as large as eggs, such as never before were seen in
this country; there were marbles of green and blue from the Oriental
plains: she was told they were for her. Next there were chains of
steel; these, too, were hers: then that majestic chair of plaited
straw; she could scarcely believe that she was to have it for her
throne. But the crowning charm of all was an immense bronze medal,
with a chain of plated gold, which she could hang about her neck; it
was in fact, a commemoration of a German professor’s jubilee, with the
Emperor’s likeness upon it; but no one can conceive the admiration it
excited. She was really touched, and the sailors and soldiers seemed
to like the medal as much as she did. The gifts which were made to me
in return consisted of a calabash full of butter, a goat, a sheep, and
a splendid bull of a peculiar breed, without horns.

The most remarkable plant amongst the islands of the Meshera is a
climbing passion-flower—the _Adenia venenata_, the bright green
leaves of which are applied by the natives of Central Africa for the
purpose of drawing blisters. These leaves have, however, a poisonous
property, which has proved fatal to camels. Camels have but a feeble
faculty of smelling, and eat freely of whatever looks green, so that
all attempts to acclimatise them here have been without success. It is
the same plant which deprived Sir Samuel Baker of his pack-ass in
Latuka. The most noticeable thing about the plant is the large
development of its stem, which grows half under the soil, and projects
with a strange protuberance some cubic feet in content. At the end of
this the stem breaks out into a number of long climbing stalks, which
mount upwards to a considerable height. One example of these stems I
packed in linen and sent to Berlin, where, after a period of ten
months, it was found to retain its vitality, and in a palm-house soon
developed a number of young shoots.

The waters furnished a variety of fishes; amongst these few were more
frequently seen than a sort of harness fish (_Polypterus bichir_), of
which a representation will be given in a later chapter. But the
creature which most particularly arrested my attention was the
salamander-like fish of Gambia (_Lepidosiren_), which, with its four
slim feet projecting from its fish-like form, had a mouth like that of
a shark. I saw specimens between three and four feet long. Its flabby
slimy flesh is disgusting to the Nubians, although Sir Samuel Baker,
who found the same species in the Albert Nyanza, could not
sufficiently praise its flavour. The whole family of the Siluridæ is
here represented as much as in other sections of the Nile. Many of
them share with the fish-salamander the practice of burying themselves
in the bank, that they may await in the dry the rising of the stream;
in the same way as an eel they can wriggle themselves through the
soil, and even make a way over the dry ground.

Considering the circumscribed limits of land, the feathered race were
found in great variety. I saw at least sixty kinds of birds upon the
four or five islands which were nearest us. Conspicuous above all was
the graceful rail (_Parra africana_), with its spreading claws and
wiry legs stalking proudly, as if on land, upon a carpet of water-lily
leaves. And not unheard were the familiar notes of our own home birds.
Sparrows innumerable thronged about the papyrus plants, on which they
settled for their evening roost. All this, however, is but the old
story of ornithological travellers who have been before me, and hardly
needs to be repeated here.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [11] Speke, p. 609: “We found only a small piece of water,
     resembling a duck-pond buried in a sea of rushes.”

     [12] The words of the far-famed traveller are:—“It runs
     from Sennaar past many considerable villages, which are
     inhabited by white men of Arabia. Here it passes by Gerri
     [now Khartoom], in a north-easterly direction, so as to
     join the Tacazze.”—Bruce. b. vi. c. 14.

     [13] In the accompanying plan it is attempted to give some
     general idea of this confusion.




[Illustration: VIEW ON THE MESHERA (PORT REK).]




                              CHAPTER IV.

  Start for the interior. Flags of the Khartoomers. Comfortable
     travelling with bearers. The African elephant. Parting from
     Shol and Kurdyook. Disgusting wells in the district of the
     Lao. Wide sandflats. Village of Take. Fatal accident. Arabian
     protocol. Halt in the village of Kudy. Description of the
     Dinka. Peculiarities of the race. Dyeing of the hair. Nudity.
     “The Turkish lady.” Iron age. Weapons of the Dinka. “People
     of the stick.” Weapons of defence. Domestic cleanliness.
     _Cuisine._ Entertainment of the ladies. Snakes. Tobacco-smoking.
     Construction of the huts. Dinka sheep, goats, and dogs.
     Reverence for cattle. Degeneration of cows. Intestinal worms.
     Deficiency of milk. Large murahs. Capabilities of the Dinka.
     Warlike spirit. Treatment of enemies. Instance of parental
     affection. Forest district of the Al-Waj. Arrival at Ghattas’s
     chief Seriba.


It was not until the eighteenth day of our sojourn in the Meshera that
Ghattas’s second boat arrived, conveying the remainder of the
newly-enlisted mercenaries and a year’s provisions for the Seriba. The
agent on board was commissioned to procure for me from the interior
whatever porters were requisite for my progress. The shortest possible
time that must elapse before he could get to the Seriba and back was
eleven days; punctually at the end of that period he returned, and
placed at my disposal seventy bearers. Thus fortunately I had time
enough and to spare before the commencement of the rainy season to
start for the interior.

By the 25th of March all arrangements for setting out were complete,
and we were ready to turn our backs upon the damp air of the swamps
with its nightly plague of flies.

Several smaller companies having joined Ghattas’s expedition, the
number of our caravan was a little under five hundred. Of these the
armed men alone amounted to nearly two hundred; marching in single
file they formed a long column, and constituted a force with which we
might have crossed the largest State of Central Africa unmolested. Our
course for six days would be through a notoriously hostile country, so
that this protection was quite necessary; but the caravan, extending
fully half a mile, was of a magnitude to require great order and
circumspection. Each division had its banner, and to each was
appointed its proper place in the procession. The different companies
of the Khartoom merchants were distinguished by the colour of their
banners, all emblazoned by the star and crescent of Islam. Instead of
this, Ghattas, as a Christian, had a white flag, on which were worked
the crescent and a St. Andrew’s cross. This compromise between the
crescent and the true cross did not, however, exclude certain passages
from the Koran, relating to the conquest of unbelievers, and which
could not be permitted to be wanting on any Khartoom banner. The
handsome flag of my own boat was lying wrapped away in a box. I
confess I had no desire to make a display of it among savages, and in
a region where its meaning could not be comprehended; but even if I
had wished to exhibit it, I subsequently discovered that any attempt
to do so would have been quite a failure. No Nubians would on any
account have followed a flag which did not bear the crescent and the
passages from the Koran. The boats on the Nile, it is true, when they
carry or belong to Europeans, do not despise the European colours; but
in the heart of the negro country, where no Egyptian authority exists,
it is different, and consequently all European flags are worthless.
The banner of Islam is to them a talisman, and they would consider it
as sacrilege to replace it by the banner of any Christian country.
Even the trading expeditions conducted by European merchants from
Khartoom have conformed to this rule, and I have myself witnessed the
flag waving on the Rohl River at the last settlement maintained by the
brothers Poncet.

[Sidenote: TRANSPORT OF BAGGAGE.]

To a naturalist on his travels, the employment of men as a means of
transport appears the perfection of convenience. Apart from the
despatch and order in starting, and the regular continuous progress,
he enjoys the incalculable advantage of being able to reach his
baggage at any moment, and to open and close again without loss of
time any particular package. Any one who has ever experienced the
particular annoyances of camel-transport will be quite aware of the
comparative comfort of this mode of proceeding. A few asses
accompanied the caravan, and the governor of Ghattas’s Seriba had been
courteous enough to send me his own saddle-ass, but I preferred to
trust myself to my own legs. Riding a badly-saddled donkey is always
infinitely more fatiguing to me than any exertion which may be
requisite to keep up with the forced marches of the light-footed
Nubians; besides, I had other objects in view than mere progress: I
wished to observe and take notes of anything that came in my way, and
to collect plants and whatever else might be of interest. Thus
entirely on foot I began the wanderings which for two years and three
months I pursued over a distance of more than 2000 miles. Neither
camels nor asses, mules nor horses, teams of oxen nor palanquin-bearers
contributed their aid. The only animal available, by the help of which
Central Africa could be opened to civilisation, is exterminated by
fire and sword; the elephant is destroyed mainly for the purpose of
procuring for civilised nations an article wherewith to manufacture
toys and ornaments, and Europeans still persevere in setting the
savages a pernicious example in this respect.

There is sufficient evidence to show that the African elephant, which
at the present time appears to surpass the Indian species as much in
wild ferocity as in size, was formerly tamed and trained in the same
way as the elephant in India. Medals have come down to us which
portray the considerable differences between the two species. They
show the immense size of the ear of the African elephant, and prove
beyond a doubt that it was once employed as a domestic animal. The
state of torpor to which, since the fall of the Roman Empire, all the
nations of the northern part of Africa have been reduced, is
sufficient explanation why the worth of this animal should have been
suffered to fall into oblivion. The elephant takes as long as a man to
grow to maturity, and it could hardly be expected of the Arabs that
they should undertake the tedious task of its training; and certainly
it could not be expected of Turks, who have hardly patience to wait
for the fruits of one year’s growth, and who would like the world to
have been made so that they could pick up their guineas already coined
on the mountains. It would be no unfortunate event for Africa if some
of the European philanthropists, who now squander their homœpathic
charities on the welfare of the negroes, were to turn their sympathy a
little to the pitiable lot which has befallen the elephant. The
testimony of Burton in his ‘Nile Basin’ is, that not only might
elephants be made useful to man, but that they appear to possess an
instinct which is quite a match for the reason not only of the natives
of Africa, but of some other of the bipeds who visit its inhospitable
shores.

Extremely toilsome, I must own, were the first few hours of the march.
After being for months limited to the boat’s deck and to short
excursions from my little island, I now found myself forced to keep up
with the sharp pace of the negroes, which would be a matter of
difficulty to any one but a member of the Alpine Club. Towards
evening, after a two hours’ march, we made our first halt in Shol’s
village. Near the huts some giant Kigelia, in full flower, displayed
their purple tulip-like blossoms; they still stand as landmarks on the
spot, although the old Shol has gone to her rest and the last
fragments of her burnt huts have vanished. This Kigelia is common
throughout Africa, and is distinguished for its remarkable fruit, two
feet long, which hangs from the boughs like a string of sausages. The
leaf is somewhat similar to our walnut, and in its _tout ensemble_ the
tree may bear comparison with a majestic oak. Trees of such marked
peculiarity cannot do otherwise than make an impression on the memory
of every traveller in equatorial Africa.

[Sidenote: ACROSS THE DINKA LAND.]

Shol had come expressly from her island to take leave of us, and to
offer her hospitality to the caravan. Our course now lay in a
tolerably straight S.S.W. direction across the western district of the
extensive territory of the unsubdued Dinka. We rested occasionally in
the deserted villages and amidst the empty cattle-pens belonging to
the natives, who made their escape as we advanced. By their continual
cattle-stealing, the Nubians have caused all the Dinka tribes to
consider foreign interlopers as their bitter enemies; the intercourse,
therefore, with the settlements in the Bongo and Dyoor countries,
which are separated from the river by the Dinka district, can only be
maintained at the expense of keeping an adequate number of armed men
to protect the porters. Agriculture, although it is carried on to a
certain extent, is quite a secondary consideration. The Dinka often
possess large quantities of sheep and goats, but principally they are
breeders of cattle. The number of cattle in the country is astounding,
and seems as if it must be inexhaustible, even when it is remembered
that thousands are stolen annually by the Nubians. There are tracts of
grazing ground which take a whole day to cross; murahs are scattered
throughout the land like villages in Germany, and many of them would
contain 10,000 beasts, unless I err in my computation, which is made
by reckoning the pegs to which the animals are tethered.

Before I parted from my old friend Shol I had to make one more
offering of gratitude for the hospitality I had enjoyed; this
consisted of an amulet which I had to compose at Kurdyook’s request. I
wrote him as a testimonial a recommendation to any future visitor to
the country. The Nubians and true Arabs, in a way that is not seen in
Egypt, often wear round their neck and arms a number of ornamental
leather sheaths, which contain passages from the Koran; on being asked
what is inside they reply, “It is the name of God.” Such amulets are
even bound round the necks of horses and valuable asses. It would
never occur to a Nubian to ask a Frank for an amulet; they have their
Faki, who make a harvest of the business. But Kurdyook was no
Mohammedan; he was a pure, uncontaminated heathen, and Mohammedan
prejudice had no part in his superstition; in his eyes the white man
was a being of a higher order, and was accordingly in a position to
exercise greater authority over the invisible powers of fate than the
swarthy priest of Islam.

We now passed on through a country covered by farmsteads, repeatedly
crossing fields of sorghum-stubble. The stalks, fifteen feet in
length, which lay everywhere scattered on the ground, were a great
impediment to our progress. The corn here cultivated is the largest
form of the species; it takes nine months to ripen, and the stem in
consequence becomes so hard and woody that it is no more like our
European straw than their stubble-fields are like ours. At other
places at this season the nature of the ground generally offered no
hindrance, the clayey swamps being dry and hard as stone; the high
grass of the steppe trodden down by men and cattle, the woods
everywhere thin as in Southern Nubia, and consisting of isolated
thickets or scattered trees of no great size.

For the purpose of geographical investigation a journey in the rainy
season would be more advantageous, because it is only then that the
actual limit and importance of the periodical currents are to be
estimated. The term _periodical_, however, so frequently used in
connexion with the hydrographical conditions of Africa, perhaps hardly
gives a correct impression, since the brooks and streams which more or
less are dried up after the rainy seasons are over, still exercise
their influence on the conformation of the land, just as truly, if not
so obviously, as our perpetual rivers, which are permanently limited
to their proper channels. Many of the rivulets in this extensive level
have no apparent bed; for in proportion as the water decreases, the
bed by degrees resumes its aspect of being covered with grass; the
turf rapidly grows afresh as the water recedes, and, independently of
this, much of it is able to endure a flood of several months without
rotting or dying away. This is a circumstance which quite easily
explains the misconceptions to which various travellers in the dry
season have been liable, who have gone along without recognising any
river-beds at all. It is not in any way surprising that they have
crossed the beds of even considerable streams without perceiving in
them anything different to ordinary undulations of the ground, for
there is nothing to arrest the attention but the same uniform growth
of grass, the same dry stubble, the same scorched, trampled stalks.
Ten miles from the Meshera we reached the first watering-place in the
centre of the Lao district, an open cultivated plain, several miles in
extent, diversified with numerous farms and hamlets. Two fine
sycamores seemed to beckon from afar and invite us to the spot.

[Sidenote: HALT AT LAO.]

The water had to be drawn from a depth of fifteen feet, from wells
which contained nothing better than a stinking, impure pulp. These
wells are the residue of great pools formed in the rainy season, and
subsequently developing a wonderful abundance of animal life, although
they produce nothing in any way adapted for culinary purposes. Large
water-scorpions (_Belostoma_), beetles, and other creeping things that
are ever at home in stinking pools, whirl about in these muddy depths.
Here it is, apparently, that the Dinka cows and sheep renew annually
their progeny of intestinal worms (_Amphistoma_) and cercariæ, of
which the filthy beds are most prolific. Such was the drinking-water
of Lao.

The natives had imagined that we should pass the night at the well;
anxious, however, to take advantage of the coolness of the air, we
resolved, by a forced night-march, to get quickly over the district,
void of water, that lay before us. Marching on through the adjacent
farms we noticed old and young hurrying off into the adjacent
thickets, our arrival being unexpected. Many a smoking porridge-pot
had been forsaken, and now fell into the hands of the greedy bearers,
making them still more desirous of tarrying here for the night; but
the orders were peremptory which had been given to our people to push
forward without delay.

To the south the ground stretched uniformly for ten miles in sandy
plains bare of grass, pleasantly broken at intervals by bushy shrubs
and single trees. Onwards we went for five hours of the night over
moonlit sands, the imagination giving a weird aspect to all around.
The region strongly reminded me of the acacia-woods of Taka and
Gedaref in South Nubia, which are seen in crossing the forests at the
foot of the Abyssinian highlands. The character of the vegetation
approximates to that of Kordofan. The commonest trees are the
Seyal-acacia, hegelig, tamarind, Christ’s thorn, capparis, and that
remarkable thorn, the randia, the branches of which serve as models
for the pointed lances which the inhabitants of Central Africa employ.
One of the trees of Southern Kordofan finds here its southern limit:
this is the _Albizzia sericocephala_, a tree of moderate size, of
which the finely-articulated, mimosa-like leaf consists of from 5000
to 6000 particles; the thick clusters of blossom gleamed out from the
obscurity like snow, and the air was laden with their balmy fragrance.
Thus we wandered on as through a cultivated garden, our path as smooth
as if we were on gravelled walks. Reaching at length a considerable
village, we encamped on the deserted site of a large cattle-park. A
sudden storm of rain put the caravan into a commotion, and forced me
to retire with my bedding into one of the wretched huts, which are not
really dwellings, but are used for the nightly shelter of the
cow-herds. Imbedded a foot deep in fine white ashes, and enveloped in
a cloud of dust, I passed the remainder of the night, alternate
coughing and sneezing making all sleep simply impossible.

[Sidenote: VILLAGE OF TAKE.]

On the following day we had to march for five hours without a draught
of water, until a hospitable asylum was opened to us in a village of
Take. We were now in the district of the Rek, a locality which
formerly made a hitch in the traffic with the natives, before
Petherick broke a way to the south through the Dyoor and Bongo, and
opened a trade with the Niam-niam.

This Take was an old friend and ally of the Khartoomers, and had
attired himself in honour of the occasion in a figured calico shirt,
without regard to the prejudices of his countrymen, who despise all
clothing as effeminate. Near this village in 1858 there existed a
temporary establishment from in which the brothers Poncet started on
their elephant hunts the Dinka territory. They called the place
Mirakok, but Mirakok and its elephants are now alike unknown in this
land of the past, where (transient as a shower or a tide) all the
lives and deeds of men have been long forgotten. It has been a land
without chalk or stone, so that no permanent buildings could be
constructed; it has consequently only reared a people which have been
without chiefs, without traditions, without history. Detached
fan-palms (_Borassus_), 100 feet high, in default of anything more
lasting, mark the abode of Take, a shelter which was destined to have
its sad associations for the travellers.

Ghattas’s standard-bearer, a most courageous fellow and the best shot
among all our Nubians, killed himself on a hunting excursion, which he
had undertaken with me and my servant. I had contented myself with
bagging a lot of remarkably plump wild pigeons, but he was resolved to
get at some guinea-fowl; for this purpose he made his way into a
thicket, where, as he was loading his piece, it accidentally went off,
the charge entering his breast. This accident befell the one who was
supposed to be incomparably the most skilful of our party in handling
his weapons, and it may be imagined what was to be expected of the
rest. Blundering accidents and wounds were of perpetual occurrence, so
that I should only weary the reader by recounting them. The traveller
who has to march with these so-called soldiers must be content to know
that he could not anywhere more thoroughly be exposed to the danger of
being killed by a chance shot; and I do not exaggerate the truth when
I affirm that my life was over and over again seriously threatened.

The unfortunate Soliman, who was thus the victim of his own mischance,
was the man who had saved my servant Mohammed when he had his
encounter with the wild buffalo. Half the camp hastened to the
ill-fated spot, to be enabled to testify to the accidental death of
Soliman by his own hand. So quietly had he fallen that even my servant
Osman, who was near, ascertained quite casually that he was dead; a
dark mark, caused by the smoke from the powder, at the orifice of the
gaping wound, showed that his gun had gone off while he was holding
it. Sobbing and weeping, his friends and countrymen stood round his
body, and even the stony-hearted cattle-stealers seemed as if, after
all, they were not utterly devoid of all human emotion. One of them
was touched with a strange remorse, the reason of which I afterwards
discovered. It appeared that Soliman owed him a debt, which he
declared he had paid; on the previous day, while Soliman had been
emphatically persisting that the debt was discharged, his accuser, in
his rage, cursed him with the heaviest imprecation he could command:
“The dogs devour thee!” The disaster, therefore, was a manifest
punishment from heaven; the man would indeed gladly have never uttered
the curse, but yet he could not be reconciled with the dead. On the
very next day, as we were about to start, another man shattered the
upper part of his arm by carelessly taking his gun from a bush where
he had laid it.

We left the unlucky spot, and proceeded two miles further to the
village of Kudy, also an old friend of the Turks, as the Khartoomers
are everywhere termed by the natives. Here we made another halt, in
order to pass the day in slaughtering some cattle, in feasting on beef
and goat’s flesh, and in laying in a store of corn for our large party
of bearers.

[Sidenote: LEGAL AFFIDAVIT.]

Here also a kind of affidavit or protocol, strictly conformable to
Mohammedan rule, was taken of the previous day’s accident, in order to
be able to produce legal evidence at Khartoom, where the deceased
Soliman had left a wife and child. The chief part of this important
business was performed by the Faki, who accompanied the party as
private slave-dealers, enacting at the same time their legal character
as scribes. After the protocol was drawn up, it was sealed, according
to Oriental custom, by the agents who were present. This was not done
without great prolixity and circumstantial debate. The formality of
the document was curious; its opening words were: “Osman the agent
asks Osman the servant of the lord Musyu the question: Where is
Soliman?” Osman in his turn had to give an account of the accident:
“As we were hunting in the thicket, I heard a shot,” and so on. They
did not expect to be cross-examined; they did not look for even such
mild reproach as the king gave Hamlet when he inquired, “Where’s
Polonius?” but they considered it quite as well to keep up the
old-established form.

With Kudy I found a good opportunity of prosecuting my study of the
Dinka, which I had already taken up in earnest during my stay in the
Meshera. My relations with this strange pastoral people were,
throughout the two years which I spent in the interior, but rarely
discontinued. Dinka were my cow-herds, and Dinka provided me with all
the requirements of my _cuisine_ as long as I stayed in Ghattas’s
Seriba; and even in the remotest limits of my wanderings I had
dealings with them. I am only acquainted with the western branch of
this people, whose territory altogether extends over an area of from
60,000 to 70,000 square miles, of which the length is close upon 400
miles; my knowledge, however, is accurate enough to enable me from my
own observation to add much that is new to the descriptions which
previous travellers have given of this people.

Although individual tribes of the Dinka, with regard to height and
bodily size, stand pre-eminent in the scale of the human race, the
majority of this western branch of the nation rarely exceeds a middle
height. Of twenty-six representatives that were measured, the average
height was about 5 ft. 7 in. According to this, the average size of
the Dinka is inferior to that of the Kaffirs, but it exceeds that of
Englishmen.

[Sidenote: NEGRO PHYSIOGNOMY.]

In their figure they are like the _swamp-men_, if such an expression
may be allowed, presenting the same lankiness of limb which has been
already noticed as characteristic of the Shillooks and Nueir. The
upper part of the body appears shorter than among the less swarthy and
more robust races who inhabit the rocky hills of the interior. The
outline of their sinewy frame is very decidedly marked in the
horizontal, angular shoulders; a long neck, slightly contracted at the
base, corresponds with the head, which also gradually contracts
towards the top and back, and which is generally somewhat flat and
narrow. Ordinarily there is a strongly developed width of jaw.
Altogether there is a general harmony pervading the whole figure, and
the scientific student will hardly fail to recognise the evidence that
nature has pursued a definite end in the development which here
exists. The Dinka must be reckoned amongst the darkest of races, but
the deep black of their complexion gives place to a manifest tint of
brown when the ashes are washed off with which they delight in rubbing
themselves. When they have smeared themselves with oil, or taken a
bath, their skin shines like dark bronze. The dull polish of chocolate
may be taken as descriptive of the brighter hue; this, however, is
seldom seen even when the ashes are cleared away, because the removal
of the dead scales of cuticle, which then takes place, is followed by
a greyish tint which spreads over the skin.

The blue tinge which has been attributed to the negro’s skin is
entirely a matter of imagination; it may be confidently asserted to be
solely the reflection of the sky. This result of reflection is
especially to be observed when we chance to see one of these swarthy
fellows standing at the aperture of his gloomy hut, which gets no
light but what enters by the door.

[Illustration: Profiles of the Dinka.]

Any apparent uniformity of physiognomy is all an illusion: it
originates more in the inexperience of the eye than in any positive
resemblance of feature. The three profiles of which illustrations are
given show a marked variety in form between nose and nose. Generally,
however, according to our conventional æsthetic notions, the men are
more comely than the women of the same age. Pleasant, not to say
ordinarily human features, are rare: hideous contortions, increased by
the grimaces to which the short eyebrows contribute by reducing the
shallow foreheads to a mere nothing, give the majority an expression
scarcely better than a baboon’s. Still there are exceptions, and with
regard to these it must at times be owned that they present a
regularity of feature with which no fault could be found.

The hair of the Dinka is nearly always very meagre; it is generally
closely shorn, except at the crown, where a tuft is left, which they
ornament with ostrich feathers, in imitation of a heron. The
helmet-shaped combs of the Shillooks are never seen, but tufts of
woolly locks are much in fashion. Occasionally, but not often, the
hair is plaited in fine braids, which run in parallel lines across the
head. The women wear their hair either closely shaven or as short as
possible.

The accompanying portrait represents what might be styled a Dinka
dandy, distinguished for unusually long hair. He must be classed as
belonging to that finer-formed race which has been mentioned. By
continual combing and stroking with hair-pins, the hair of the negro
loses much of its close curliness. Such was the case here: the hair,
six inches long, was trained up into points like tongues of flame, and
these, standing stiffly up all round his head, gave the man a fiendish
look, which was still further increased by its being dyed a foxy red.

This tint is the result of continual washing with cow-urine; a similar
effect can be produced by the application for a fortnight of a mixture
of dung and ashes. The beard never attains sufficient growth to be
worth their attention. Their razors are of the most primitive
description, consisting simply of carefully ground lance-tips.

[Illustration: A Dinka Dandy.]

[Sidenote: HAIR AND TEETH OF THE DINKA.]

Both sexes break off the lower incisor teeth, a custom which they
practise in common with the majority of the natives of the district of
the Bahr-el-Ghazal. The object of this hideous mutilation is hard to
determine; its effect appears in their inarticulate language, of which
I suppose we could not imitate the sound, unless we submitted to the
same ordeal. Some Africans file their incisor teeth to a point;
others, like the Batoka of the Upper Zambesi, break out those of the
upper jaw. The former of these practices appears comprehensible as
increasing their capability for defence in single combat; and the
latter is perhaps an imitation of their deified ruminants; but the
reason why the Dinka should absolutely disfigure their lower jaw is
quite beyond my comprehension. The African races have commonly been
reported as distinguished for their fine rows of teeth, and it was
accordingly a matter of surprise that bad teeth were so often
conspicuous. The aged on this account are little short of disgusting,
for the upper teeth, from the deficiency of opposition from the lower,
project far from the mouth and stick out like a finger-joint. So
marked is this peculiarity that some of the people have acquired from
the Nubians the _soubriquet_ of Abu-Senoon, father jut-tooth.

Men and women alike pierce their ears in several places, and insert
iron rings or little bars with iron tips. The women also bore the
upper lip and fit in an iron pin, running through a bead, a custom
which is common among the Nueir. Tattooing is only practised by the
men, and always consists of about ten radiating strokes, which
traverse forehead and temples, having for their centre the glabella,
or base of the nose: it is a symbol by which the Dinka are recognised
at once.

The observation of Barth,[14] that many heathen tribes consider
clothing more necessary for men than for women is not applicable to
the Dinka or any of the natives of the river plains. According to
Dinka notions of propriety, it is becoming for none but women to wear
any covering; any attire, even of the most moderate description, is
considered unworthy of the men. The Nubians, who are always called
Turks, do not certainly belong to the most carefully clothed of the
human race, yet the Dinka always term them _women_, a designation
which in this sense is quite common. I always appeared in a complete
suit of clothes, and my apparel accordingly gained for me the ironical
title of the “Turkish lady.”

[Sidenote: DINKA ORNAMENTS.]

On the other hand the women here are scrupulously clothed with two
aprons of untanned skin, which reach before and behind from the hips
to the ankles, and are trimmed round the edges with rows of beads,
small iron rings, and little bells. At that time, white beads, as
large as peas, with blue spots, called “Genetot ahdah” in the Khartoom
market, and others an inch in diameter, called “Barrad” or hailstones,
which were principally worn by the men as necklaces, were all the
rage, every other description being contemptuously rejected. In the
course of a few years the fashions in beads change, and the
store-houses in the Seribas of the Khartoomers get overstocked with
supplies that are old-fashioned, and are consequently worthless.

The Dinka live in a veritable iron age—that is to say, they live in
an age in which iron has still a high value; copper is not esteemed of
corresponding importance. The wives of some of the wealthy are often
laden with iron to such a degree that, without exaggeration, I may
affirm, that I have seen several carrying about with them close upon
half a hundredweight of these savage ornaments. The heavy rings with
which the women load their wrists and ankles, clank and resound like
the fetters of slaves. Free from any other domination, it is
remarkable of this people how, nevertheless, they are not free from
the fetters of fashion. The favourite ornaments of the men are massive
ivory rings, which they wear round the upper part of the arm; the rich
adorn themselves from elbows to wrists with a whole series of rings,
close together so as to touch. An adornment for the neck of less
distinguished character is formed of strings of plaited leather; the
bracelets are cut out of hippopotamus hide; and the tails of cows and
goats, in which every Dinka exquisite arrays himself, and with which
he trims his weapons, are in common use.

Since the Dinka cannot do much with his miserable crop of hair, he
turns his attention to caps and perukes in a way not unfrequent among
Africans. Whilst I was with Kudy I often saw those strange specimens
of head-gear which, in the shape of a Circassian chain-helmet, are
formed exclusively of large white bugle-beads, which in Khartoom are
called “muria.” This decoration is especially common amongst the
Nueir.[15] Another kind of head-dress is composed of ostrich feathers,
and forms a light and effectual protection from the sun.

According to the custom, which seems to belong to all Africa, as a
sign of grief the Dinka wear a cord round the neck; but amongst other
nations we shall have occasion to notice several additional tokens to
denote the loss of a member of a family.

Since the western territories of the Dinka in the alluvial flats
nowhere produce any iron, their modes of manipulation of this metal
are not so highly developed as among some other tribes which will
subsequently come under our observation. Before the appearance of the
Khartoomers, the Dyoor, who had settled within the limits of the Bongo
and Dinka, in the vicinity of the soil which produced iron-ore, had
performed all the smith’s work which was required by the Dinka. At
that time these Dyoor seem to have been brought by the Dinka to a
similar state of vassalage as that in which they themselves now stand
to the Nubians. The Bongo, although their land produces iron, were far
too hostile to their neighbours to furnish them with a supply of iron
in the way of commerce. The Dinka themselves, being exclusively
occupied with their cattle-breeding, have no taste and find little
time for any arduous work of the smithy; hence it happens that
although their iron ornaments are numerous, the workmanship of them
all is of the most primitive character.

[Sidenote: DINKA WEAPONS.]

The most important weapon of the Dinka is the lance. Bows and arrows
are unknown: the instruments that some travellers have mistaken for
bows are only weapons of defence for parrying the blows of clubs. But
really their favourite weapons are clubs and sticks, which they cut
out of the hard wood of the Hegelig (_Balanites_), or from the native
ebony (_Diospyrus mespiliformis_). This mode of defence is ridiculed
by other nations, and the Niam-niam, with whom the Dinka have become
acquainted by accompanying the Khartoomers in their ivory expeditions,
deride them as “A-Tagbondo,” or stick-people.

[Illustration: Dinka Instruments for parrying club blows.]

Similar conditions of life in different regions, even among dissimilar
races, ever produce similar habits and tendencies. This is manifest in
the numerous customs which the Dinka possess in common with the
far-off Kaffirs. They have the same predilection for clubs and sticks,
and use a shield of the same long oval form, cut out of buffalo hide,
and which, in order to insure a firmer hold, is crossed by a stick,
secured by being passed through slits cut in the thick leather. But
the instruments for parrying club-blows depicted in the accompanying
illustration are quite peculiar to the Dinka. As far as I know, no
previous traveller has drawn attention to these strange contrivances
for defence. They are of two kinds. One consists of a neatly-carved
piece of wood, rather more than a yard long, with a hollow in the
centre for the protection of the hand: these are called “quayre.” The
other, which has been mistaken for a bow, is termed “dang,” of which
the substantial fibres seem peculiarly fitted for breaking the
violence of any blow.

Everywhere, beyond a question, domestic cleanliness and care in the
preparation of food are signs of a higher grade of external culture,
and answer to a certain degree of intellectual superiority. I have
travelled much in Europe, where the diversity of the external
conditions of life is greater than in any other quarter of the world;
I have had much opportunity of observation, and I am sure that I do
not err in the conclusion that I draw. Not the size of the houses, nor
the dimensions of the windows (for these are variously influenced by
climate), not the clothing (for Sards, Dalmatians, and Albanians,
incontestably the least civilised of Europeans, are the most
magnificently attired of all), but cleanliness and choice of food not
only at once disclose a real distinction between nation and nation,
but constitute a measure of the degrees of civilisation in individual
provinces and districts. Now both these qualities, I aver, are found
among the Dinka to a greater extent than elsewhere in Africa. First,
as to the food.

[Sidenote: DINKA MEALS.]

In culinary matters the Dinka are certainly superior to the Nubians,
and I should have little hesitation in pronouncing them even more
expert than either the Arabs or the Egyptians. Their farinaceous and
milk foods are in no way inferior to the most refined products of an
European _cuisine_. The reaping, threshing, and sifting of the sorghum
and penicillaria grain (the durra and dokhn of the Arabs) are brought
to perfection by their female slaves, who subsequently granulate the
meal like sago. In seasons of scarcity their talent for cooking has
led them to the discovery of various novelties in the way of food.
Like the tribes of Baghirmi, the Musgoo, and Adamawa, they make a
preparation, very much in the Indian fashion, from the farinaceous
germs of the Borassus palm. They extract all its native bitterness by
soaking and washing, and succeed in producing a fine meal, which is
purely white. The substance procured from these germinating seeds has
a look very similar to the root of the Florentine iris. They treat the
tubers of the Nymphæa in very much the same way, and render them quite
edible.

With the choice cookery corresponds also the decorum of their
behaviour at meals. They certainly, in this point, more resemble
ourselves than any Orientals. They do not all dip their hands at once
into the same dish, like the Turks and Arabs, but assist themselves
singly. A large dish of cooked farina is placed upon the ground,
around which the guests recline, each with his gourd-shell of milk,
or, better still, of butter, at his side; the first pours his milk
only on the part which he touches, and when he has taken enough, he
passes the dish to the next, and thus they eat in succession, but
quite separately. The Dinka repudiate the Oriental superstition that
envious looks can turn the food to poison, and have no fear of the
“evil eye.”

At times it greatly amused me to entertain Dinka ladies of rank in my
tent, in order to pay them the compliment of my admiration of their
perfection in the arts of cookery. On my folding table I laid out for
them some European dishes, and they sat on my chairs. I was astonished
at the readiness with which they fell into our mode of serving, for
they handled our spoons and forks as if they were perfectly accustomed
to them; but they nearly always carefully washed everything they had
used, and returned it to its place.

In the interior of their dwellings, the Dinka are as clean as the
Shillooks, sharing the same partiality for ashes as a bed. It ought to
be mentioned that the traveller in this part of Africa is rarely
troubled with vermin or fleas, which everywhere else, like desolation
and slavery, seem invariably to have followed the track of Islam. In
the Western Soudan the torments of the night are represented as
insupportable, so that the huts of the Hottentots are not worse. Among
the Dinka it is entirely different. The only disquietude to a stranger
in their houses arises from the snakes, which rustle in the straw
roofs, and disturb his rest. Snakes are the only creatures to which,
either Dinka or Shillooks pay any sort of reverence. The Dinka call
them their “brethren,” and look upon their slaughter as a crime. I was
informed by witnesses which I had no cause to distrust, that the
separate snakes are individually known to the householder, who calls
them by name, and treats them as domestic animals. Their abundance
here seemed to me very remarkable. Among the Bongo, on the other hand,
I spent six months before I saw a single specimen, and it appears to
be an established fact that, upon the whole, they are not generally
common in Tropical Africa. Perhaps the species which is most frequent
is the giant python (_Sebæ_). Those which inhabit the Dinka huts are,
as far as I could learn, not venomous; and, as evidence that they are
harmless, I cite the scientific names of the three species:
_Psammophis punctatus_, _Ps. sibilans_, and _Ahaetuella irregularis_.

The Dinka are far more particular than any other tribe in the choice
of their animal food. There are many creeping things, which are not
rejected by the Bongo and Niam-niam, which they loathe with the utmost
disgust. Crocodiles, iguanas, frogs, crabs, and mice they never touch;
but, connoisseurs of what is good, they use turtles for making soup.
It is scarcely necessary to say that the accounts of the cannibalism
of the Niam-niam excite as much horror amongst them as amongst
ourselves. Nothing, likewise, is more repulsive to them than dog’s
flesh, which is enjoyed by the Mittoo—a fact which justifies us in
the supposition that that tribe is addicted to cannibalism. Dinka, as
well as Bongo, have declared to me in the most decided manner, that
they would rather die of hunger than eat the flesh of a dog. But a
delicious morsel to the Dinka is the wild cat of the steppes, which is
often found in this part of Africa, and is the origin of our domestic
cat, to which it bears no slight resemblance. But more delicious than
all they esteem the hare; and in order to illustrate their
appreciation of it, a Dinka, to whom I was talking, naïvely asked me
whether I knew what a Dinka did when he managed to kill a hare on the
steppe by a lucky blow of his club? “He makes a fire,” he added, “and
roasts his game and eats it quietly, without saying anything about it
at home.”

Even before they had any intercourse with Mohammedan countries, a love
of tobacco-smoking had been one of the traits of the Dinka, who use
the same huge pipe-bowls as we have already observed amongst the
Shillooks. A strong stem opens into a small calabash, which serves as
a mouth-piece, and is filled with fine bast, to intercept the narcotic
oils. Denarcotinizing, as it is termed, is quite an old African
invention. Here, where tobacco does not grow at all plentifully, the
process answers a double purpose, for, by taking off the top of the
pipe, the bast can be removed, and, impregnated as it is with tobacco
oil, it is subsequently chewed. The smoking apparatus is so ponderous
that every one is obliged to sit down while he smokes.

[Sidenote: DINKA DWELLINGS.]

The Dinka dwellings consist of small groups of huts clustered in
farmsteads over the cultivated plains. Villages in a proper sense
there are none; but the cattle of separate districts are united in a
large park, which the Khartoomers call a “murah.”[16] The accompanying
drawing represents a Dinka farm surrounded by sorghum fields. Of the
three huts, the one in the centre, with a double porchway, is set
apart for the head of the family; that on the left is for the women;
whilst the largest and most imposing hut on the right is a hospital
for sick cows, which require, to be separated from the throngs in the
murah that they may receive proper attention. Under an awning in the
centre of the huts is the fireplace for the cooking, sheltered from
the wind by a semicircular screen of clay. The goats are kept within a
small thorn fence, so that the daily supply of milk may be always at
hand.

As a rule the huts of the Dinka are spacious, and more durable than
those of other tribes who build their dwellings in the same conical
form. They are not unfrequently 40 feet in diameter; their foundations
are composed of a mixture of clay and chopped straw, and the supports
of the roof are made of branches of acacia and other hard woods. Not
content with supporting these with a single central prop, the Dinka
erect a trunk with its spreading branches in the middle. The roof is
contrived out of layers of cut straw. These buildings endure for eight
or ten years, and decay at length mainly through being worm-eaten. The
huts of the Bongo, on the contrary, are built up much more rapidly,
but rarely last as much as three years.

[Illustration: Sectional View, showing construction of Dinka Hut.]

The principal plants that are here cultivated are sorghum and
penicillaria, three kinds of beans, earth-nuts (_Arachis_), earth-peas
(_Voandzeia subterranea_), sesame, yams, and Virginian tobacco; but we
shall have a more ample opportunity of entering into the details of
these crops when we speak of the Bongo, who cultivate nearly the same
products of the soil.

[Sidenote: DINKA CATTLE.]

The domestic animals are oxen, sheep, goats, and dogs; poultry was
never to be seen, and the cause of its absence is inexplicable. The
cattle belong to the Zebu race, and are smaller than those of the
Baggara and Hassanieh; they have a hump, their horns are slender, the
fore part of the body prevailing so in size as to resemble an
antelope. As to colour, the majority are nearly white, but it would be
incorrect to say that either the speckled or the striped, the tawny or
the brown, are wanting. The Dinka have separate expressions to denote
every shade of colour of the breed, and, indeed, their vocabulary for
all that relates to cattle and cattle-breeding is more copious than
that of any European tongue.

[Illustration: Dinka Bull.]

The sheep are of a peculiar breed, which is unique amongst the Dinka,
Nueir, and Shillooks; farther on in the interior of the equatorial
districts it is not known. Its chief characteristic consists of a
shaggy appendage to the shoulders, breast, and neck, like a mane,
whilst on the rest of the body, and on the meagre tail, the hair is
quite short. This mantle of hair gives them an appearance like
diminutive buffaloes, whilst their plump bodies and short legs
increase the resemblance. Generally white, they are occasionally brown
or spotted, and in some rare cases I have seen them of quite a reddish
hue.[17] Like the pastoral people of Southern Africa, the Dinka have
acquired the art of splitting the horns in their early growth, so as
to increase their number at will.

[Illustration: Dinka Sheep.]

The continual dampness of the pasture, especially throughout the rainy
season, favours the development of revolting intestinal vermes, and
the rain-pools in the dry months become most prolific as
breeding-places for Cercariæ. I have frequently seen sheep suffering
under disease, their ailment arising from their liver and gall-ducts
being choked up by these worms. The distoma, which is a denizen of
every zone and extends even to Greenland, is found here an inch long.

The race of goats bred by the Dinka does not differ materially from
the Ethiopian form, which we have already noticed[18] among the
Bedouins of Nubia; its only distinction is being somewhat larger; in
appearance it is always meagre, and its prevailing colour is that of a
young grey colt, occasionally inclining to a dark iron-grey.

[Illustration: Dinka Goat.]

[Sidenote: DINKA DOG.]

The dogs closely resemble the common village curs of Nubia, a cross
between the greyhound of the Nubian steppes and the pariah of the
streets of Cairo. It is not unusual for their colour to be brown, but
by far the larger number are a tawny yellow.

Every idea and thought of the Dinka is how to acquire and maintain
cattle: a kind of reverence would seem to be paid to them; even their
offal is considered of high importance; the dung, which is burnt to
ashes for sleeping in and for smearing their persons, and the urine,
which is used for washing and as a substitute for salt, are their
daily requisites. It must be owned that it is hard to reconcile this
latter usage with our ideas of cleanliness. A cow is never
slaughtered, but when sick it is segregated from the rest, and
carefully tended in the large huts built for the purpose. Only those
that die naturally or by an accident are used as food. All this, which
exists amongst most of the pastoral tribes of Africa, may perchance
appear to be a lingering remnant of an exploded cattle-worship; but I
may draw attention to the fact that the Dinka are by no means
disinclined to partake of any feast of their flesh, provided that the
slaughtered animal was not their own property. It is thus more the
delight of actual possession, than any superstitious estimate, that
makes the cow to them an object of reverence. Indescribable is the
grief when either death or rapine has robbed a Dinka of his cattle. He
is prepared to redeem their loss by the heaviest sacrifices, for they
are dearer to him than wife or child. A dead cow is not, however,
wantonly buried; the negro is not sentimental enough for that; such an
occurrence is soon bruited abroad, and the neighbours institute a
carousal, which is quite an epoch in their monotonous life. The
bereaved owner himself is, however, too much afflicted at the loss to
be able to touch a morsel of the carcase of his departed beast. Not
unfrequently in their sorrow the Dinka remain for days silent and
abstracted, as though their trouble were too heavy for them to bear.

The only domestic animal which is slaughtered amongst them is the
goat, which scarcely represents the thirtieth part of the value of a
cow. A heifer has three times the value, and a cow that has calved
double the value of a steer. In common with the other tribes of this
part of Africa they use rather a singular method of butchering their
cattle, proceeding, whenever it is practicable, by the way of making a
violent stab in the nape of the neck by means of a spear. This causes
immediate death, and is a method which gives but little trouble.

[Sidenote: DEGENERATION OF CATTLE.]

It is not difficult to understand how people like the Dinka should
make their whole delight to centre in having thriving cattle-farms,
but to us their profitless practice of emasculation must remain
incomprehensible. The herdsmen cut their bulls and bucks with the mere
intention of feasting their eyes upon a development of fat which is
always obnoxious to the stomach. Almost the third part of their bulls
are submitted to the knife, and the same proportion of their goats and
rams, and even their dogs, with the design of rendering them more
agile, more, enduring, and fitter for the chase; this also being the
reason why their ears and tails are clipped. Ask the Dinka what good
they get from their possessions of oxen, and they have ever the answer
ready that it is quite enough if they get fat and look nice. Such is
the way in which they express their satisfaction and their pride.

The failure of the beard amongst the male cattle so treated is a topic
that suggests some observations. In spite of the anxiety and care
which the Dinka bestow upon their herds, there is no mistake about the
degeneration of the race. The way in which I chiefly account for this
is that there is not enough crossing of breeds—in fact, that there is
almost a total exclusion of any strange stock. I should say that
hardly one in a hundred of the beasts is capable of either bearing a
burden or going a journey, a purpose, however, to which none of the
negroes of the Upper Nile ever seem to put them. But nothing is more
remarkable than the entire absence of fat which characterises them; a
single pound of fat could not be obtained from a whole ox; and not
only does this deficiency extend to the parts that are ordinarily
plump and fleshy, but the spinal marrow itself is so utterly dry that
in a stewpan it runs off like white of egg, without depositing a
particle of grease. Eye-witnesses have assured me that Miss Tinné,
during her residence here, although she had whole herds at her
command, could never get her supply of pomade replenished.

Again the cattle of the Dinka are not provided with salt in any form
whatever, which may in a measure account for the degenerating; it may
explain the prevalence, all but universal, of the worms known as
“kyatt,” which cover the first stomach or paunch, of nearly all their
cattle. These worms in Europe are included in the genus of the
Amphistoma; they are like an oval bag, something under half an inch
long, and generally as red as port wine.

[Illustration: “Kyatt” Worm.]

The sheep and he-goats that are left are quite devoid of fat; their
flesh when it is cooked has an odious soapy flavour, and is altogether
more repulsive than the rankest roast antelope.

As an illustration of the degree to which the Dinka devote all their
attention to cattle-breeding, and find their chief delight in it, it
may be mentioned that the great amusement of the children is to mould
goats and bullocks out of clay. Travellers have related the same fact
about the children of the Makololo; and, for my part, I could not help
having a kind of satisfaction when I saw these first efforts at
sculpture in a land where there are no pictures and no images of
deities.

[Illustration: DINKA CATTLE-PARK.]

The accompanying illustration is designed to exhibit something of the
daily routine of the Dinka. It represents one of those murahs or
cattle-parks, of which I have seen hundreds. It depicts the scene at
about five o’clock in the afternoon. In the foreground there are
specimens of the cattle of the country. The men in charge are busied
in collecting up into heaps the dung that has been exposed during the
day to be dried in the sun. Clouds of reeking vapour fill the murah
throughout the night and drive away the pestiferous insects. The herds
have just been driven to their quarters, and each animal is fastened
by a leather collar to its own wooden peg. Towards the left, on a pile
of ashes, sit the owners of this section of the murah. The ashes which
are produced in the course of a year raise the level of the entire
estate. Semicircular huts erected on the hillocks afford the owners
temporary accommodation when they quit their homes some miles away and
come to feast their eyes upon the goodly spectacle of their wealth.

[Sidenote: DINKA POPULATION.]

The milking is performed in the morning hours. Truly miserable is the
yield, and the most prolific of the cows does not give as much as one
of our ordinary goats. This deficiency of milk is another witness of
the deterioration of the breed, and no one would believe the quantity
of milk it takes to produce a single pound of butter. The dew hardly
goes off before ten o’clock, and it is not until that hour that the
herds are driven out. It is quite rare for a murah to hold less than
2000 beasts, and some, as I have mentioned, are capable of holding
10,000. Upon an average I should reckon that for every head of the
population there would be found at least three of cattle; of course,
there is no lack of the poor and the destitute, and these obviously
are the slaves and dependents of the rich. So large are the numbers of
the Dinka, and so extensive their territory, that it must be expected
that they will long perpetuate their existence amongst the promiscuous
inhabitants of Africa. So far as regards their race, their line of
life, and their customs, they have all the material of national unity;
but where they fail is that their tribes not only make war upon each
other, but submit to be enlisted as the instruments of treachery by
intruders from outside. That the Khartoomers have not been able
hitherto to make good their footing upon Dinka soil is due more to a
general resistance to external control than to any internal condition
of concord. Every attempt to bring this people into subjection has
been quite a failure, and not at all the easy matter it proved with
the Bongo and some other communities. The southern people are
emphatically agricultural, for the most part devoted to peaceful
pursuits, and so they are wanting in that kind of organisation which
could unite them into a formidable body for mutual resistance. The
marked peculiarity of the Dinka, as well as their adherence to all
their wonted habits, renders them thoroughly useless as far as regards
the slave traffic. Although the people of Khartoom for fifteen years
or more have traversed their country, they have never been able in any
way to make use of the material which might be afforded by a regulated
commercial intercourse.

The Bongo and the Niam-niam are alike greedy of bits of clothing, but
the Dinka are utterly indifferent to anything of the sort. The women,
on account of their proficiency in housekeeping, play a large part in
the Khartoom slave-trade, but they give their masters infinitely more
trouble than the slaves of any other race. The men that were captured,
in days now gone by, were one and all converted into soldiers by the
Government, and, even to this date, so large a majority of the
dark-skinned troops of Egypt consists of men of the Dinka, that their
well-formed persons, their tall stature, and their innate courage,
would be missed very considerably from the ranks. Adam Pasha, who at
the time of my visit had the military command in the Soudan, was
himself a Dinka by birth.

I must be allowed to pass lightly over, as an equivocal topic, the
religion of a people whose dialect I was unable adequately to master.
It seems to me like a desert of mirages, or as a playground, where the
children of fancy enjoy their sport. The creed of the Dinka apparently
centres itself upon the institution to which they give the name of the
Cogyoor, and which embraces a society of necromancers and jugglers by
profession. Other travellers have recorded a variety of marvels about
their sleight of hand, their ventriloquism, their conjurations, and
their familiarity with the ghosts of the dead; but of these I shall
defer all I have to say till I come by-and-by to speak generally about
casting out devils.

[Sidenote: DINKA CHARACTER.]

Before we leave the Dinka we must not omit to recall their virtues, in
order that we may fairly estimate the charge that has been laid
against them of cruelty in war. It is affirmed that they are pitiless
and unrelenting in fight, that they are never known to give quarter,
and revel in wild dances around the bodies of their slaughtered foes:
a whole village will take their share in the orgies which one of the
community will start, whenever, either by lance or club, he has
prostrated an antagonist. But, for my part, I am ready to certify that
there are Dinka whose tenderness and compassion are beyond a question.
One of the Bongo related to me, as a matter of his own experience,
that he had been severely wounded upon an expedition which the Nubians
had set on foot against the Dinka to steal their cattle: he had laid
himself down just outside a Dinka’s house, and the owner had not
simply protected him against all his prosecutors, who considered
themselves amply justified in proceeding to every extreme of
vengeance, but kept him till he had regained his health: not content
with that, he provided him with an escort back, and did not abandon
him till he was safe and sound again amongst his own people.

Notwithstanding, then, that certain instances may be alleged which
seem to demonstrate that the character of the Dinka is unfeeling,
these cases never refer to such as are bound by the ties of kindred.
Parents do not desert their children, nor are brothers faithless to
brothers, but are ever prompt to render whatever aid is possible. The
accusation is quite unjustifiable that family affection, in our sense,
is at a low ebb among them. In the spring of 1871, whilst I was
staying in the Seriba of Kurshook Ali on the Dyoor, I witnessed a
circumstance which I may relate as a singular corroboration of my
opinion. A Dinka man, who had been one of the bearers who had carried
my stores from the Meshera, was about to return to his own home in the
territory of Ghattas, but he had been attacked by the guinea-worm, and
his feet were so swollen that it was with the utmost difficulty that
he could proceed a step, and he was obliged to remain behind alone.
Everything was excessively scarce and dear, and he was glad to subsist
on a few handfuls of durra and on what scraps we gave him from our
meals; in this way he dragged on, and, with a little patience, would
have been all right: however, he was not suffered to wait long; his
father appeared to fetch him. This old man had brought neither cart
nor donkey, but he set out and carried away the great strapping
fellow, who was six feet high, for a distance of fifteen or sixteen
leagues, on his own shoulders. This incident was regarded by the other
natives as a mere matter of course.

In what I have said, I have attempted to describe the leading features
in the life of the Dinka, being desirous to exhibit such details as
may allow a correct judgment to be formed of the true relations which
exist between the Khartoomers and this people, who are at once so
pastoral and yet so prepared for war.

Here, at the village of Kudy, our caravan had accomplished about half
its journey, which was altogether a little over 90 miles. It was on
the afternoon of the 28th of March that we started afresh towards
Ghattas’s Seriba, immediately after the gun accident which I have
related. On account of their late liberal diet, our bearers did not
advance with their usual alacrity. We proceeded for three hours, and
at a well called Pamog, 20 feet deep, we halted for the night.

On the next day our route led through forests, and we entered upon the
territory of the Al-Waj. The inhabitants regarded us as enemies, and,
seizing their bows and arrows, left their dwellings and, like
frightened game, flocked to the adjacent woods. According to our Dinka
interpreters, the Al-Waj do not belong to the Dinka race, but form an
enclave, or isolated community, of unknown origin. As we entered the
wood, for the purpose of botanising, the savages were continually
starting up before us, causing no little uneasiness to my companions,
who suspected a flight of arrows from every thicket. To say the truth,
the natives had been so hardly treated that it could not be expected
of them to meet their oppressors very hospitably.

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL AT GHATTAS’S SERIBA.]

We should have proceeded far more quickly, but that we were under the
necessity at every halt to send to a distance all round to procure a
fresh supply of corn for our numerous party. This continually caused
the delay of several hours, as the farms were often very desolate and
ill supplied. The Al-Waj district is an almost unbroken forest in the
midst of open flats. Throughout the rainy season it is hardly better
than one vast puddle. The vestiges of elephants are frequent at all
times; and both right and left were giraffes trotting over the rugged
grass and wagging their tall heads. The appearance of giraffes when
they are running is very extraordinary, and, as they are seen through
the grey twilight of the morning, they have a look half spectral and
half grotesque; they seem to nod and bow like figures in the
ill-managed drops of a second-class theatre.

After leaving the village of the Al-Waj we proceeded for three leagues
through the forest, and found ourselves again on the extensive steppe.
At noon on the following day we reached the district of the Dyuihr, a
clay flat, devoid of trees. The Khartoomers cannot pronounce the
native names correctly, and call this people the Dyeraweel. The large
villages were now deserted, the population, on account of the scarcity
of water and pasturage, having gone to the river-banks. For two nights
we sacrificed our rest and hurried onwards by forced marches. It was
just before sunrise that we reached the first rocky irregularity in
the soil, a general ascent in the ground being quite perceptible.
Bush-forests now took the place of the steppes, which we had long
found to be but scantily relieved by thickets. A luxuriant foliage
revealed itself, presenting one of those striking _limits of
vegetation_ which are so rarely to be met with in Africa. From this
interesting locality I proceeded for another three leagues, thus
accomplishing the preliminary object of my journey. I was in the chief
Seriba of Ghattas, which for some months to come I proposed to make my
head-quarters.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [14] Barth, vol. ii. p. 475.

     [15] In Wood’s ‘Natural History of Man,’ p. 522, there is
     an accurate illustration of these ornaments.

     [16] The derivation of “murah” would seem to be from “rah,”
     rest, “merah,” a resting-place for cows, or “menah,” a
     resting-place for camels.

     [17] The illustration gives a likeness of a Dinka sheep,
     which must not, however, be confounded with the maned sheep
     of Morocco.

     [18] Vide Chap. I., p. 33.




                               CHAPTER V.

  Reception at the Seriba. Population. Fertility. Salubrity.
     Management. Poor prospects of the ivory trade. Failure of
     European firms in Khartoom. Idrees, the chief agent. Domestic
     arrangements. Beauties of spring. The daughter Seriba Geer. Bit
     of primeval forest. Giraffe-hunt. Bamboo jungle. Negro festival
     and music. Trip to the Dyoor and to Wow. Desertion of bearers.
     Good entertainment. Marquis Antinori and Vayssière. Old servant
     of Petherick’s. Hornblende. Height of the water of the Dyoor.
     Apostrophe to the river. A model Seriba. First acquaintance
     with Niam-niam. Trader from Tunis. The Wow River. Seriba
     Agahd in Wow. Edible fruits of the country. Wild buffaloes.
     Instability of dwellings. Caama and Leucotis antelopes. Numerous
     butterflies. Bear-baboons. Pharaoh palms. Daily life of the
     Dyoor. Their race. Iron-smelting. Formation of huts. Idyll of
     village life. Hunting with snares. Women’s work. Graves. Care of
     young and old.


Of the character of the buildings, the arrangements and mode of life
in the settlements of the Khartoomers, I had been able from hearsay to
form a very imperfect idea. My curiosity was therefore very
considerably awakened as our caravan approached the Seriba of Ghattas.
Half a league from the place we came to a halt in order to give the
customary warning by firing a salute, and without farther delay
started afresh. Mounted on a donkey, and surrounded by my attendants,
I went at the head of the _cortége_. All round the settlement for some
distance the land is entirely cultivated, and the view as we proceeded
was only broken by large trees dotted here and there, which in their
summer verdure stood out in charming contrast to the cheerless grey of
the desert steppe. Soon rising from the plain appeared the tops of the
conical huts embracing nearly the whole horizon. I looked in vain for
either fortifications, walls, bastions, or watch-towers, with which I
had imagined that a Khartoomer’s Seriba must be provided. In fact,
there was hardly anything to distinguish it from any of the villages
of the Dinka which are scattered over the cultivated flats.

[Sidenote: RECEPTION AT GHATTAS’S SERIBA.]

A motley crowd, relieved by many a bright bit of colour, presented
itself and formed a lively spectacle such as was scarcely to be
expected to break in upon the monotony of an African landscape. We
were received with a rattling salute from a number of rusty rifles,
and there was every disposition to do the honours of our arrival in a
becoming manner. Elegantly attired in an Oriental costume, Ghattas’s
agent approached with the gestures of welcome, and proceeded to
conduct me to the hut which for some weeks already had been prepared
for my reception. For the first time I now observed that the area in
the centre of the huts was surrounded by a lofty square palisade;
through the narrow gateway of this, with lowered banners and amidst
the sound of gongs and kettle-drums, our cavalcade passed on.

With this chief Seriba are associated five smaller settlements in the
adjoining Bongo country, and four more in remoter spots. It lies on
the border-lines of the three races, the Dinka, the Dyoor, and the
Bongo. From an insignificant beginning it had, in the course of
thirteen years, increased to its present importance. A number of
Gellahba, Nubian, and other merchants, had taken up their abode on
large estates within its precincts; and here it was that they
completed their purchases of slaves in order to carry them on to
Darfur and Kordofan. The garrison was composed almost exclusively of
natives of Dongola; there were, however, a few Sheigeah and men of
Kordofan among them, and these, including the numerous _employés_ of
Ghattas, made the resident armed force not much under 250 men. To
these should be added some hundreds of slaves reserved for the market,
or divided as part of their pay amongst the soldiers, and several
hundreds more, male and female, who are in actual service. The
aggregate population therefore of this establishment almost equals
that of a small town, and amounts to at least 1000 souls.

For two miles round the Seriba the land is partitioned into fields.
Enclosed by dense bush forests, of which the trees rarely exceed forty
feet in height, this wide expanse is industriously tilled by the
natives who have settled in the vicinity, and furnishes the greater
part of the annual supply of sorghum necessary for the garrison.
Numerous little villages belonging to the three adjoining people are
scattered all about, the fertility of the soil, so much above the
average of the district, causing the proximity to the settlement to be
held in high estimation. The surface-soil above the iron ore has a
depth of three to four feet. The extreme productiveness of the
luxuriant tropics is well exemplified in these fields, which for
thirteen years have undergone continual tillage without once lying
fallow and with no other manuring but what is afforded by the uprooted
weeds. A like luxuriance is characteristic of the forests, which year
after year, from the immediate vicinity, continue to supply the
spreading colony with abundance of fuel.

In the rainy season the place is surrounded by pools, which disappear
completely during the winter months; parts of the soil in and about
the fields become for the time quite marshy, and at intervals large
tracts of the lower steppes, for miles together, are little better
than swamps. The Seriba is not elevated more than 100 feet above the
mean level of the Gazelle, but in spite of everything the climate is
far more salubrious and enjoyable than in many districts of the
Egyptian Soudan. This may partly be accounted for by the fact that
very few domestic animals are kept, so that the air is uninfected by
their carcases, whilst the reverse is generally the case in the large
market towns of the Soudan. Camels, as I have said, are never seen;
horses and mules are only used as signs of special luxury on the part
of the Seriba authorities; the ass alone manages to drag out a
precarious existence in the unfavourable climate, and to defy the fate
which has hitherto attended all efforts for its acclimatisation.
Fevers indeed are common, though they rarely carry off new comers.
Hitherto but few white men have come to make experience of the climate
in this portion of Africa; and up to the time of my sojourn the visits
of either Turks or Egyptians had been almost as rare.

[Sidenote: UNREMUNERATIVE IVORY TRAFFIC.]

The district between Ghattas’s six Seribas in the northern Bongo
country and immediately under his authority, extends over an area of
about 200 square miles, of which at least 45 miles are under
cultivation. The total population, to judge by the number of huts and
by the bearers stationed in different parts, can hardly amount to much
less than 12,000. This domain, worth millions of pounds were it
situate in Europe, might, I believe, at any time be bought from its
owner for 20,000 dollars: and this I mention as a proof of how small
is the profit actually yielded by these settlements, which have been
started by so magnificent a spirit of enterprise. I could show by
reliable statistics that in some years the returns from the ivory have
fallen far short of the expenditure. The year of my arrival may
perhaps be considered as an average season, and in this the ivory sent
to Khartoom realised scarcely 10,000 Maria Theresa dollars. The
expenses of keeping up two or three well-manned boats, so as to insure
uninterrupted intercourse with Khartoom, are considerable, while from
any traffic in slaves the owner of the Seriba has little to expect. In
one way, however, slaves do occasionally contribute a secondary profit
to the expeditions. In times when hostilities break out and the proper
stores from Khartoom cannot be obtained, the agents are induced to
part with whatever slaves they have to the Gellahba for a mere
bagatelle; they exchange them for calico or anything else they can
get, and make use of the proceeds to pay the soldiers.

When affairs are prospering, a month’s pay for a soldier is five Maria
Theresa dollars. One of the great points with the agents is to spare
the merchant any outlay of ready money: he therefore, as often as he
can, pays the mercenaries in goods, charging them exorbitant prices
for any articles obtained from his stores; on the other hand, he makes
this up to them in a measure by allowing them a share in the plunder
of slaves or of cattle; the soldiers in their turn can dispose of what
booty they may get, all negotiations being generally conducted by the
regular slave-dealers. It is very seldom that the men are wary enough
to keep independent of the agent in their requirements, or are able,
even in the course of many years, to lay by in Khartoom any
considerable amount of money. The majority are pledged beforehand to
continual service; nevertheless not unfrequently they contrive to
escape and, without any intimation, join the company of some
competitor, who (in the lawless condition of the country) quietly
scorns all efforts to reclaim them. Such cases as these inevitably
give rise to repeated contentions between the various Seribas. The
annual cattle-plunder, moreover, does not nearly suffice either to
attract or adequately to repay the hard services of the Nubian
soldier, nor does it go far to remunerate the native bearers, who
perform all the transport from the Niam-niam countries to the river.
All matters of commerce even in these remote regions are ostensibly
conducted in a legitimate mercantile way. For the opening of the ivory
traffic with the Niam-niam, as well as for the purpose of buying
supplies for the people during expeditions which often last six or
seven months, huge bars of copper and beads of every description have
to be provided. These are dear, on account of the commission which is
paid in Alexandria. The bearers, it is true, are subject with the
submission of serfs to the authorities at the Seriba; but as an
encouragement to them in their work they can claim a stipulated
proportion of the goods, and this in the course of the year
constitutes no unimportant addition to the outlay.

[Sidenote: IVORY TRADE.]

Altogether the Upper Nile traffic was carried on at great pecuniary
risk, and its prospects were far from favourable. As I saw it, it was
dependent for any amount of success upon the plunder which was made
alike upon cattle and upon men, and upon the levies of corn and
provisions which were exacted from the natives. Without the aid of the
Nubian soldiers the expeditions could not be secure. These soldiers
only come to escape the rigorousness of the Egyptian Government in
their own land; they participate in the profits, and yet without them
the monopoly could not be maintained. The Government could avail
nothing to protect a legal business; neither could any European
enterprise hope, for many successive years, to be able to work a
profitable trade.

The few Europeans who ever really opened transactions in these
countries did indeed pay their people in hard cash, and refused to
have anything to do either with the slave trade or cattle-stealing,
limiting their operations exclusively to the purchase of ivory and to
elephant-hunting in the districts adjacent to their settlements. Just
as might be expected, however, they were soon compelled to withdraw
from their undertaking—either because, on the one hand, the stock of
ivory in their immediate vicinity was exhausted, or, on the other,
because they found that they could not compete with the native firms,
who were backed by the illegal means I have mentioned. Since their
withdrawal, no new speculator has attempted to follow in their steps;
and as year by year the Khartoom trade loses its European
representatives, it appears as though, in course of time, the export
business will pass out of European hands. Nothing will prevent this,
unless some important modifications should occur in the southern
provinces of Egypt. Sanguine of success, Ismail Pasha has projected
the formation of a railway to Khartoom; and, considering the general
aspect of affairs as I have related them, this great undertaking
deserves the unqualified support of all who do not despair of the
ultimate victory of right.

A mere slave when at home, Ghattas’s plenipotentiary, Idrees, was here
an important personage, invested with absolute power, and swaggered
about like an autocrat. By birth a negro, he had not on that account
less influence over the Nubians than any other official—for it is not
according to the law of Islam to allow national enmity to be
antagonistic to personal rank. I was received with all the courtesy
due to my credentials, and for the first few days found myself
literally loaded with presents. Provisions of every sort were placed
at my disposal, whilst my people had free board for a month in
Idrees’s quarters. Two neatly-built huts of moderate size, within the
palisade, were prepared for me, but these were not nearly sufficient
to accommodate me with all my baggage. The actual Seriba, about 200
paces square, was so crammed with huts, that not a spot could be
discovered where it was possible to erect a more spacious residence.
Outside the enclosure, where the buildings were more scattered over
the fields, I was not permitted to lodge. I was told how it had
happened, and was likely to happen again, that the natives skulked
about at night and murdered people in their sleep. This statement I
was forced, whether I would or not, to accept, and temporarily, at all
events, to content myself with my cramped abode, eighteen feet across.

[Sidenote: ACCOMMODATION IN THE SERIBA.]

The huts are built of bamboo and straw; the conical roof rests on a
kind of basket-work of bamboo, which is daubed inside with clay, in a
way that is imitated from the almost petrified erections of the white
ants. The pagan negroes lavish far more care upon their huts than the
Mohammedan inhabitants of the Soudan, who, although the bamboo grows
so abundantly among them, do not succeed in giving their “tokkuls”
nearly so much symmetry. Here they possess the art of erecting roofs
which are perfectly water-tight, and which are so light that they do
not require heavy posts to hold them together on the walls. The
covering for the roof is formed, in the first place upon the ground,
with handfuls of stalks laid side by side and knotted together. These
are afterwards plaited into long strips, which are then laid one above
the other, like the flounces of a lady’s dress—a comparison which is
further the more appropriate, because the structure of the frame-work
is exactly like a hooped petticoat.

I would not allow the walls of the tokkul, in which I generally passed
my time, to be cemented with clay, partly because I liked the airiness
of the basket-work, and partly because light was necessary for my
daily occupations. There seemed to me two other advantages—first, on
dry days, my goods would more rapidly recover the effect of the wet to
which they had been exposed; and, secondly, I should be less plagued
with rats than those who occupied the plastered huts. In stormy
weather, it is true, I had to suffer a certain amount of discomfort.
To increase my storage-room I contrived some shelves and stands out of
bamboo-canes; I had also brought from Khartoom some deal planks,
expressly for the manufacture of the tables which were necessary for
my botanical pursuits. A traveller who is in possession of bamboos,
cow-hide, bladder, and clay, will find himself not very inadequately
supplied with representatives of nearly all the building materials of
Europe.

My excursions about the neighbourhood soon began, and these, with the
arrangement of my daily collections, occupied the greater part of my
time. In unfailing good health, I passed the first few weeks in a
transport of joy, literally enraptured by the unrivalled loveliness of
nature. The early rains had commenced, and were clothing all the
park-like scenery, meadows, trees, and shrubs, with the verdure of
spring. Emulating the tulips and hyacinths of our own gardens, sprang
up everywhere splendid bulbous plants; whilst amongst the fresh
foliage gleamed blossoms of the gayest hue. The April rains are not
continuous, but nevertheless, trees and underwood were all in bloom,
and the grass was like a lawn for smoothness. In Tropical Africa,
after long continuance of rain, the grass may be considered more as a
defect than an ornament in the landscape: the obstructions which it
interposes to the view of the traveller considerably mar his enjoyment
of the scenery; but throughout the period of the early rains its
growth is remarkably slow, and it takes some months to attain a height
sufficient to conceal the numerous flowering weeds and bulbs which
display their blossoms at the same season.

The territory of the Dinka includes nearly the whole low ground,
extending right away to the Gazelle. It is a vast plain of dark
alluvial clay, of which the uniformity is not broken by a single hill
or mass of rock, any tracts of forest being of very limited extent. As
they approach the districts of the Bongo and the Dyoor, the Dinka
steppes lose much of that park-like aspect which they here present.
Indeed, very marked is the contrast in the character of the scenery
which appears on entering those districts; for to the very borders of
the Dinka reaches that enormous table-land of ferruginous soil which,
unbroken except by gentle undulations or by isolated mounds of gneiss,
gradually ascends to the Equator. This plain appears to cover the
greater part of the centre of the continent, even if it does not
extend as far as Benguela and the shores of the Niger. From my own
experience, I can certify that the general geological features of the
soil, as exhibited as far south as the latitude of 4°, are identical
with those which were conspicuous here, where the latitude was between
7° and 8° N.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER TONDY.]

At the end of a fortnight I made a trip to the south-east, the first
of a series of excursions to Ghattas’s different Seribas, which lay
four or five leagues apart. On this tour I learnt something of the
river Tondy, on which is established the Seriba known as Addai. The
river was now at its lowest level, and was flowing north-east in a
tolerably rapid current, between precipitous banks fifteen feet in
height. In depth it varied from four to seven feet, and it was about
thirty feet in breadth; in the rainy season, however, for three miles,
the adjacent steppes are covered with its floods, which are always
very prolific in fish. Before the Tondy joins the Gazelle, as it does
in the district of the Nueir, it spreads irregularly over the
low-lying country and leaves its shores quite undefined. In this way
it forms a number of swamps, all but inaccessible, to which the Dinka,
whenever they are threatened by plundering excursions from the
Seribas, lose no time in driving their herds.

Although the Tondy is nearly as long as the Dyoor, it is very inferior
in its volume of water. Like several of the less important rivers of
this region, it flows for a long distance without any appreciable
increase either in size or speed. These streams intersect the country
and cut it up into narrow sections, which are rarely designated on the
maps.

The second of the Seribas which I visited was called Geer, and was
just four leagues to the south of the chief settlement. It was
surrounded by bamboo-jungles, and was situated in a prolific
corn-valley, watered by a tributary of the Tondy. It contained about
800 huts, occupied by Bongo, who had settled there.

The road to Geer, nearly all the way, was over a firm, rocky soil,
through bush forests, swarming with wart-hogs (_Phacochærus_). About
three-quarters of a league on the way, stood a dense mass of lofty
trees, not unlike an alder grove. It was traversed by rain-courses,
and surrounded by low swampy steppes, which in the rainy season are
entirely under water. The wood consisted mainly of tall uncariæ and
eugeniæ, 80 feet in height, of which the long, straight stems were
crowned by spreading foliage: it was the first bit of the primæval
forests which fill up the valleys through which flow the rivers of the
Niam-niam. I paid many visits to this interesting spot; by the people
in the Seriba it was termed Genana, the Arabic word for a garden. In
its grateful shade grew dense thickets of red-blossomed melastomaceæ,
intermingled with giant aroideæ (_Amorphophallus_), and bowers of
creepers. The character of the vegetation was in striking contrast to
the other forests of the district, and for the first time reminded me
of the splendour of our northern woods—it was like an enclave of the
luxuriant flora of West Africa, transported to this region of bushes
and steppes.

On the adjacent plains herds of giraffes were very frequently seen. To
bring down one of these giraffes was a matter of but little
difficulty. They pace unconcernedly from bush to bush, taking their
choice amidst the varieties of herbage, and I was surprised to find
that it required half-a-dozen shots before a herd of nearly twenty
could be started into flight; but, once off, there was no gaining upon
them, and, like the fleetest of sailing-vessels, they disappeared on
the horizon. I was on this day treated to the rare delicacy of a
giraffe’s tongue; there was some trouble in finding a dish on which it
could be served, and I suppose that the longest fish-platter would
hardly suffice for the display of this dainty. I had formerly tasted
the flesh in Gallabat, and as I had abundance of beef in the Seriba,
the carcase was distributed between my bearers. Roast giraffe may be
reckoned amongst the better class of game, and is not unlike veal.

Geer provides the whole neighbourhood with bamboos. The African
species (_Bambusa abyssinica_) seems to possess a character superior
to what ordinarily belongs elsewhere to that useful product of the
tropics. It is common on the lower terraces of Abyssinia and in all
the rocky parts of the Upper Nile district, where the climate is
sufficiently moist; it is found generally on river banks, though but
rarely on the open steppes.

[Sidenote: FESTIVAL AT SEED-TIME.]

The canes grow to a height of thirty or forty feet, and the stoutest
specimens that came under my notice were between two and three inches
in diameter. They are not so swollen at the joints as the Chinese and
Indian sorts; but this is an advantage, since they are more easily
split. Even after repeated boiling, the young shoots were never
eatable.

For two nights and a day whilst I was in Geer, the natives were
abandoning themselves to their wild orgies, which now for the first
time I saw in their full unbridled swing. The festival was held to
celebrate the sowing of the crops; and confident in the hope that the
coming season would bring abundant rains, these light-hearted Bongo
anticipated their harvest. For the preparation of their beer they
encroached very lavishly on their present corn stores, quite
indifferent to the fact that for the next two months they would be
reduced to the necessity of grubbing after roots and devouring any
chance bird or even any creeping thing that might come in their way.
Incredible quantities of “legyee” were consumed, so as to raise the
party to the degree of excitement necessary for so prolonged a revel.
In honour of the occasion there was produced a large array of musical
instruments, a detailed account of which shall be given hereafter, but
the confusion of sound beggared the raging of all the elements and
made me marvel as to what music might come to. They danced till their
bodies reeked again with the oil of the butter tree. Had they been
made of india-rubber, their movements could scarcely have been more
elastic; indeed, their skins had all the appearance of gutta-percha.
The whole scene was more like a fantoccini than any diversion of
living beings.

By the end of April the vegetation was so far developed that I might
fairly reckon on a larger botanical collection on a longer excursion.
Accordingly, accompanied by my servants and a few bearers, I set out
towards the west, designing to visit the Seribas belonging to Kurshook
Ali and Agahd, and to explore the River Dyoor. I was everywhere
received most hospitably, and thus had every encouragement to make
similar trips amongst the various Seribas. As a rule I did not produce
my letters of introduction to the agents until the second day, that I
might prove whether my welcome was a mere official service, or was
accorded freely and by good-will. I had never cause to complain: the
agents, one and all, showed me the greatest attention, entertained me
handsomely, and placed at my disposal all that I could desire. Their
courtesy went so far that, although the country was perfectly safe,
they insisted on providing me with a guard of soldiers. In addition to
this, the local governors of the negro villages always escorted my
little caravan from stage to stage. I found that the whole country was
occupied, at intervals of five or six leagues, with settlements of the
Khartoomers, in their palisaded Seribas. The inhabitants interchange
their visits as freely as any gentlemen in Europe.

On the third day after my start all my bearers, who had contracted to
serve me for a sum which would be represented by half-a-crown a day,
deserted; they were afraid, perhaps not without cause, that their
burdens of pickings and pullings would daily increase. This little
incident, for which I was quite prepared, had its effect on the
remainder of my journey. I for my part was perfectly agreeable to
their desertion, for I could obtain gratis as many bearers as I
required. Of course, I had nothing to pay the runaways, and was free
from all charges to bearers for the future. In this I had no
compunction, knowing that I had every right to claim the same
assistance and courtesy that is accorded to any ordinary traveller
amongst the Khartoomers’ Seribas, and to have my baggage conveyed from
one place to another.

My people had glorious times in the Seribas. There was mutton without
stint; and whole animals were slaughtered even for my dogs: to my
hungry Khartoomers it was literally a land flowing with milk and
honey. Reserved for me were all that they considered the greatest
delicacies that Central Africa could produce, and in the way of fruit
and vegetables I could not catalogue the variety that was served, from
the sour Pishamin (_Carpodinus acidus_) to the horse-bean
(_Canavalia_).

[Sidenote: ABOO GUROON.]

This excursion lasted from the 27th of April to the 13th of May. After
leaving the chief Seriba we proceeded for about three leagues to the
north-west, and arrived, first, at the Seriba owned by Abderahman Aboo
Guroon. In 1860 this spot was visited by the Marquis Antinori, who, in
spite of many privations, remained there throughout an entire rainy
season. At that time a French hunter, Alexandra Vayssière, under the
protection of the Dyoor chief, Alwal, with whose sons I made
acquaintance, had founded a small settlement. Vayssière himself, to
whose clever pen the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ is indebted for some
valuable articles on Central Africa, died the same year on the Gazelle
River, falling a victim to a virulent fever. Aboo Guroon was formerly
a servant of Petherick’s, and had faithfully accompanied that
praiseworthy traveller in his earliest endeavours to penetrate the
Bongo country. He had obtained his name, Aboo Guroon (father of
horned-cattle), from his noted courage and love of enterprise, and he
was renowned amongst the traders as the first traveller to the
Niam-niam.

The governors of the Seribas and the leaders of the Nubian expeditions
may be divided into two classes: of these the one are hypocritical
cowards, always saying their prayers, and yet always tyrannical to
their subordinates; the others are avowed robbers. Far preferable,
beyond a doubt, are the latter; they treat those weaker than
themselves with a certain amount of generosity, not to say chivalry;
to this class belonged Aboo Guroon. Close to his Seriba we had to
cross the Molmull stream, which was for a long period represented on
maps as an arm of the Dyoor, but I have proved that it is a collateral
stream, which rises in southern Bongoland. In the rainy season it is
70 feet wide, and is only passable by swimming, but it was now nothing
more than a series of pools, the intervals of which were marked by
patches of gneiss.

Ten leagues further west flows the Dyoor. Our route in that direction
was in every way tiresome. For four leagues and a half we traversed a
barren steppe, without being able to obtain so much as a draught of
water, and the rough clods of clay were a continual impediment. We
halted for the night in a small Seriba of Agahd’s, called Dyoor-Awet.
It lies on the summit of the watershed between the Molmull and the
Dyoor, and from the hill towards the west an extensive view of the
latter river is obtained. Being still somewhat of a novice in Central
African travelling, I resolved, in order to avoid the heat of the day,
to take advantage of the moonlight nights for proceeding on our march.
In the dark, however, my guides and bearers, inexperienced in their
work, lost themselves in such a labyrinth of paths that we were
obliged to halt in an open meadow and make inquiries on all sides for
the proper route. At length we arrived at some little enclosures of
Deemo, a Dyoor chief. The huts were built on the slope of a small
eminence of hornblende, a formation that I never noticed elsewhere to
the south of the Gazelle; it extended as far as the right bank of the
Dyoor, which, now at its lowest condition, was flowing sluggishly
towards the north through steppes about a league in width.

The sandy river-bed was bounded by clay banks, from 20 to 25 feet in
height, the entire thickness of the alluvium of the valley. The
breadth of the bed at this spot was rather more than 400 feet, but at
this season the running water was reduced to 80 feet wide and 4 feet
deep. I was told that a few days previously the water had been up to a
man’s shoulder, and that the stream would not now fall any lower. Ten
days later, on my return, I crossed the river about three-quarters of
a league to the south, and although I found that the whole bed was
covered, yet its depth was not above three or four feet. Heuglin had
crossed the Dyoor at a spot about 20 miles north of where I was, and
on the 8th of April 1863 he found the stream about 300 paces in width,
with a depth varying from one foot to three.

Among the Bongo and Dyoor alike, the river goes by the name of
“Gueddy,” whilst the Niam-niam, in whose territory lies the whole of
its upper course, call it “Sway.” It is ascertained to be one of the
more important tributaries of the system of the White Nile. I found
its source in Mount Baginze, in the eastern portion of the Niam-niam
country, in lat. 5° 35´ N., and in almost the same longitude as that
in which it joins the Gazelle; its main course, omitting the smaller
windings, extends over 350 miles.

[Sidenote: AN APOSTROPHE.]

As we were wading across its clear waters, my servant, Mohammed Ameen,
was suddenly attacked by a sentimental fit of home-sickness. He has
been mentioned before as distinguished by the nickname of “the
swimmer,” and as a former Reis he was always more interested than
anybody else in river-systems and hydrographical questions. Stopping
midway in the channel, as though lost in contemplation, he suddenly
apostrophised the waters: “Yonder lies Khartoom; yonder flows the
Nile. Pass on, O stream, pass on in peace! and bear my greeting to the
dear old Bahr-el-Nil!” An Egyptian would have been too stolid to be
moved like this son of Nubia.

The bush-ranges on the opposite shore were enlivened by numerous herds
of hartebeests and leucotis antelopes. I hurried on in advance of my
caravan, hoping to enjoy a good chase, but my attempt only resulted in
a circuitous ramble and in extreme fatigue. It was not until the
middle of the day that I rejoined my people in a little village of the
Dyoor, and by that time, inexperienced as I was, the heat, the
running, and the fear of losing my way had conspired almost to deprive
me of the use of my senses. The numberless herds that, without making
a stand, continually scampered across my path, still further increased
my bewilderment. I was far onwards on my way back when a flock of
domestic goats, startled by the apparition of a stranger came running
athwart my way. They were of a reddish colour, and, had they been in
the midst of a wilderness, might easily be mistaken for the little
bush antelope (_A. madoqua_), so common in these parts. I was just
about to send a last despairing shot amongst the harmless creatures,
but discovered my mistake betimes. When I afterwards related my
adventure for the entertainment of my people, one of them told a
similar anecdote of a previous traveller, who, however, had actually
shot a goat, and when the enraged owner insisted upon compensation,
could not be induced, even in the face of the _corpus delicti_, to
acknowledge his error. The man who told this had been an eye-witness
of the affair, and described in the liveliest manner the contest that
had raged over the zoological character of the hapless goat.

Rather more than a league from the Dyoor, in an irregular valley
sloping towards the river and surrounded by wooded hills, was
situated, but newly built, the chief settlement of Kurshook Ali.
Khalil, the aged governor, received me most kindly. After the entire
destruction of the former establishment by fire, he had erected in its
place quite a model Seriba. This is depicted in the background of the
accompanying drawing. In front is a majestic khaya-tree, which in
years to come will probably be the sole surviving relic in the
landscape. Several of the most important types of vegetation are also
represented: on the left are the large candelabra-euphorbia and
borassus palms, and on the right appear the little gardenia trees, of
which the fruit resembles the wild pear or the crab-apple; by the side
of these are two deserted white ant-hills.

[Illustration: THE CHIEF SETTLEMENT OF KURSHOOK ALI. A MAJESTIC
KHAYA-TREE.]

Some of my most pleasant reminiscences of African life are connected
with this spot. Here it was that, two years later, after experiencing
the calamity of a fire, I was hospitably received, and passed several
months in hunting over the well-stocked environs. In no other Seriba
did I ever see the same order and cleanliness. The store-houses and
the governor’s dwelling stood alone on an open space within the
palisade; around the exterior, at a considerable distance, were ranged
the huts assigned to the soldiers and other dependants. The
unhealthiness of having a crowd of wretched dwellings huddled
together, the contingent danger of fire amongst so many straw huts,
and the disadvantageous lack of space in case of an attack, all had
their effect in inducing Khalil to make these innovations.

[Sidenote: FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH NIAM-NIAM.]

On my arrival I was surrounded by a bevy of real Niam-niam,[19] who
had been conveyed hither by an expedition lately returned from their
country. They stood and gaped at me and my belongings with far more
curiosity than had been evinced by the stolid natives of the country.
Whilst I was supposed to be listening to the performances of the
resident Bongo on the guitar, it seemed as though these Niam-niam
would never tire of examining my paraphernalia. My watch,
breech-loader, revolver, my clothes, and even my lucifer matches had
to be scrutinised separately. Nothing of equal wonder had crossed
their experience; and what with my white skin and my appearance
altogether, I looked to them like some being from another world.

Amongst the acquaintances that I made here I must not forget to
mention a speculative slave-trader from Tunis, who was now making a
second journey over Darfoor. He could speak a little French, and, to
the astonishment of every one, he could read the names upon my maps.
He was the most refined of his calibre that I had ever met, and to me
was a sort of _deus ex machinâ_. Whenever I saw him I had always a
vague feeling that he must be some distinguished explorator in
disguise—perhaps a Burton or a Rohlfs. Our complexions were alike,
our education had been alike, and so in these distant regions we met
like fellow-countrymen. In an unguarded moment I grasped his hand,
drew him aside, and begged him privately to tell me who he was and
where he came from. His loud laugh of surprise at my inquiry was quite
enough, and in an instant completely dispelled any illusion on my
part.

The fact of meeting a slave-trader from Tunis in this spot so
completely remote corroborates the imputation of an unexpected extent
of the slave trade in Africa. This polished Tunisian was, to say the
least, in many respects superior to the adventurers who ordinarily
come from Darfoor and Kordofan. Of them nothing can be said too bad.
They pursue their revolting craft under every pretext; coming as fakis
or priests, they make their iniquitous exchanges for that living ebony
which consists of flesh and blood, and, altogether, they are as
coarse, unprincipled, and villanous a set as imagination can conceive.

It is pleasant to turn from these incarnations of human depravity to
the calm undesecrated quiet of the wilderness around. Two leagues to
the west brought us to the Wow, a river of inferior magnitude, but
which was very charming. Meandering between rocky slopes, overhung
with a rich and luxuriant foliage, and shadowed at intervals by
stately trees, after a few miles it joins the Dyoor. Its bed, at its
full measure, is 150 feet wide; but when I saw it, on the 1st of May,
it exhibited merely two little rills trickling merrily over a rough
sandy bottom. In proportion to its size it seemed to retain in the dry
season less water than the Dyoor. It rises in the heart of the
Niam-niam country, where it is called the Nomatilla; as it passes
through the Bongo it is termed the Harey; whilst just above its
confluence with the Dyoor, to which it contributes about a third of
its volume, it goes by the name of the Nyanahm. It divides the people
of the Dyoor into the two tribes of the Gony and the Wow.

[Sidenote: THE WOW SERIBA.]

On the banks of this, stretched beneath a noble tree, of which the age
far exceeded any tradition of the natives, I enjoyed a noonday lounge.
My dogs were never weary of awakening the echoes of the forest, which
would give repeated answers to their cries. I was constrained to move
on by the people who had come out to welcome me from the neighbouring
Seriba of Agahd, known simply as Wow, at a distance of a league and a
half to the west. The possessions of Agahd’s company in this district
are much scattered, and are interspersed amidst the territories
belonging to other merchants. Their subordinate settlements extend far
west into the lands of the Kredy, their expeditions reaching even to
the western frontiers of the Niam-niam.

The further the advance towards the west from the Dyoor, the more
rapid is the increase in the level of the country. The ascent
indicates the progress from the basin of the Gazelle to the central
highland. The Wow Seriba occupied the centre of a gentle valley
sloping towards the west. The bottom of this valley, at the time of my
visit, was traversed by a marshy strip of meadow, which, in the rainy
season, forms a running brook that flows into the river. A steep
descent of a hundred feet bounds the valley on the south-west. I was
struck by the richness and diversity of the foliage—a peculiarity in
this part of Africa, where vegetation seems very much to run to wood,
and develops itself in bushes and in trees.

Of the trees which adorn the hanging rocks I may mention a few which
are remarkable on account of their fruit. The Göll of the Bongo bears
pods which, in appearance and in flavour, resemble those of the St.
John’s Bread, and on that account the Nubians, who use the skins as
tan, call it the Caroob. Its wood, like palisander, is carved by the
natives into pretty stools and benches. Then there was the Oncoba,
from which are made the little round tobacco-boxes, known in the
Arabian trade on the Red Sea; and there was the _Strychnos edulis_, of
which the fruit is not unlike a pomegranate, containing an edible pulp
inclosed in a brittle woody shell. Together with these grew the
Ximenia, a shrub common to the tropics of both hemispheres. The
blossoms of this emit a soft fragrance as of orange flowers, and it
bears a round yellow fruit about the size of a cherry, which is about
as sour as anything in nature. The flavour is like a citron, and the
soft nut-like kernel is eaten with the juicy pulp. Several kinds of
sycamore, apparently of the Egyptian species, bear edible figs, but
they are poor and insipid. A beverage refreshing as lemonade is
prepared from the great creeper carpodinus. This plant is well known
in the Guinea trade for its produce of caoutchouc. Its globular fruit
(the sour pishamin of the colonists) contains a large number of
kernels embedded in a fibrous pulp; its sourness exceeds that of the
citron. The sarcocephalus, the wild original of the species that is
cultivated in Guinea, does not here grow larger than a peach; in shape
and colour it may be compared to a strawberry, though in flavour it
resembles an apple: eaten to excess it acts as an emetic. The white
flowers of this Rubiacea smell like orange-blossoms. The pericarp of
the cordyla contains a green honey-pulp, and that of the detarium a
sweetish yellow powder. Many species of vitex bear an olive-like fruit
with a sweet aromatic flavour; and spondias offer great tempting plums
of a bright yellow, which, however, leave a harshness in the throat.
The ripe berries of the widely diffused vangueria taste like
gingerbread, and this peculiarity, in a certain sense, belongs to
nearly all the edible fruits of Central Africa: whatever is not sour
and astringent, like unripe gooseberries, is somewhat sweet and dry to
the tongue. With the exception of the plantain (_Musa sapientium_),
which has every claim to be considered a native of Equatorial Africa,
all other fruits are either sour and grating on the palate, or they
are sweet with an after sensation of dryness. The most perfect
examples of each of these are the pishamin and the date; intermediate
to them both is the tamarind.

[Sidenote: BUFFALO-HUNTING.]

On account of the numerous gnats and gadflies on the west of the
Dyoor, cattle-breeding suddenly ceases, and even in the Seribas there
are found only a few sheep and goats. On the other hand, wild
buffaloes, after being entirely missing for a long way to the east of
the river, now re-appear. We had not come across any since we entered
the region of the Gazelle, and the first that we now saw were on the
southern frontier of the Bongo territory. Only one kind of buffalo is
known in this part of Africa, but the difference in the formation of
their horns is so remarkable that cows and bulls appear quite like two
distinct animals. In the bulls the roots of the horns meet at the top
of the head, and cover the whole of the forehead, whilst in the cows
they are separated by nearly the entire width of the brow. The habit
of this animal is different from what is ordinarily found elsewhere;
for in these regions buffalo-hunting is considered by no means a
dangerous sport. After my recent experience on the White Nile I was
surprised to find so many ready, without hesitation, to accompany me
to the chase. For myself I had rather a dread of the animal, as my
predecessor, Herr von Harnier, had fallen a victim to a wild buffalo,
which had mutilated his body to such a degree that it could not be
recognised.

On the morning after my arrival I had the luck to surprise a small
herd in a swamp. They immediately took to flight, with the exception
of two, a cow and her calf, which looked about, astonished, after
their disturber. I and my companion fired simultaneously, and we
should have secured the sucking calf, if the swamp had not been in our
way.

In flavour, the best parts of the buffalo-meat almost rival that of a
fattened ox: it is tougher and more stringy, but, in spite of
everything, it is juicy and palatable. The flesh of the tame species
of southern Europe is, on the contrary, worse than camel’s flesh, and
may indeed be pronounced uneatable.

Gladly I should have extended my tour westward, to the Kosanga
mountain, and as far as the Seribas of Zebehr, Bizelli, and some
others. The agents were always courteous, and, unencumbered, I could
easily have accomplished my desire; but my botanical collection had
largely increased, and my supply of paper was exhausted, so that I was
constrained to give up my project, and to return. The rapid
development of vegetation, moreover, warned me that I ought to be back
at my quarters in Ghattas’s Seriba before the beginning of the rains,
so that for the whole of the season, after they had decidedly set in,
I might concentrate my energies on the investigations which were the
proper purpose of my journey. Accordingly, after exploring the
immediate neighbourhood of Wow, I returned at once to Kurshook Ali’s
Seriba, where I spent a few more days in some brief excursions.

Dense still were the woods around the settlement, although Khalil, in
order to obtain arable land, was daily thinning them by fire. The
small depth of soil in these parts, often barely a foot, is one of the
causes of the instability of the dwellings which are run up on it, and
which are also liable to destruction from worms above and from white
ants below. When the inhabitants are compelled to rebuild, they prefer
to settle on fresh territory—they choose virgin soil, and hence it
arises that not only the villages of the natives, but even whole
settlements of the Nubians, are continually changing their sites.
Every place bears the name of the native chief; when he dies,
therefore, the former name falls into oblivion. In consequence of
this, it becomes very difficult to fix on the maps names and
localities, which can rarely be permanent beyond a period of at most
ten years. The only enduring landmarks are afforded by the
water-courses: ages pass on, and these change but little as they
fulfil their function in the economy of nature.

[Sidenote: THE HARTEBEEST.]

The environs of Kurshook Ali’s Seriba abound in every variety of game.
Genets, civets, zebra-ichneumons, warthogs (Phacochœrus), wild pigs,
cats, lynxes, servals, caracals, and the large family of the
antelopes, all find here their home.

[Illustration: Central African Hartebeest.]

In this neighbourhood I killed my first hartebeest and a leucotis
antelope. The hartebeest (_Antilope caama_) is common throughout the
greater part of the continent, and varies in its form, its colour, and
the shape of its horns, according to sex, age, and adventitious
circumstances. In zoological collections two specimens are rarely seen
exactly like one another.[20] Called “karia” by the Bongo and
“songoro” by the Niam-niam, the hartebeest is the most frequent of all
the larger game. It is generally found in small herds, varying in
number from five to ten, its haunts being chiefly uninhabited tracts
of wilderness. In the cultivated districts it prefers the light bush
forests in the vicinity of rivers, though it is never seen actually in
the river valleys. It takes its midday rest by standing motionless
against the trunks of trees; and by its similarity in hue to the
background which it chooses, it often eludes all observation.
Throughout the rainy season its colour is bright—a sort of
yellow-brown, with a belly nearly white; but in the winter it tones
down to a dullish grey. With the exception of the leucotis, its flesh
is the best eating of any game in the country.

[Illustration: Leucotis Antelope (male).]

The leucotis antelope[21] is the species that congregates in the
largest number in any of the districts that have been hitherto
explored. In the dry season they are often seen in the wadys in large
herds, varying from 100 to 300 head; during the rains they resort to
the more elevated forests. That is their pairing time, and they divide
into smaller groups. These graceful animals have the same habit as the
South African spring-bok; running at full speed, with outspanned legs,
they often bound four and five feet high, and jump clean over one
another. The female, which has no horns, in colour and size very much
resembles the yalo (_A. arundinacea_), but it can be easily
distinguished by the hair on the metatarsus being black, while in the
yalo it is grey.

[Sidenote: WATERPOOLS IN THE RED ROCK.]

Throughout the whole of this neighbourhood are numerous plains of
ferruginous swamp-ore; only in the rainy seasons, when the rainfall is
at its height, are these covered at all with grass, which at its best,
compared to the luxuriant vegetation around, is a meagre down, hardly
equal to our poorest pasture lands. On this plateau the rains of March
and April begin to fill the numerous clefts and chasms; the pools thus
formed contain a variety of interesting water-plants, which disappear
completely when the waters again subside. Whereever the red rock is
exposed, its surface is adorned by the rosy blossoms of the dianthera,
a species of capparis, which here supplies the place of our viscous
catch-fly and cuckoo-flower. Nowhere in the exuberant tropics are we
more vividly reminded of our own scenery than in such spots as these,
where, on the edge of woody precipices and surrounded by the smiling
green of the sward, gleam these gay patches of dianthera. The naked
stone covered by a low detached overgrowth, in picturesque grouping,
rivalled all that I had ever seen. The gardenia trees fill the air
with the fragrance as of a bower of orange blossoms and jasmine.

[Illustration: Leucotis Antelope (female).]

The month of May here, as in Europe, is a month of flowers, amongst
which the world of butterflies pass their ephemeral existence. As a
rule, these lepidoptera were not larger nor more diversified in form
and colour than the European, but, in their aggregate, they were full
of beauty. The dews of night were not sufficient for their thirst, and
in motley masses they assembled round every puddle to enjoy the
precious moisture. By a skilful swing of the butterfly-net I could
catch a hundred at a time. They continue to swarm in this way till the
beginning of July. At times I saw them thronging all amongst the
foliage, and giving to many a plant the appearance of being covered
with the most variegated blossoms; the bare rock, though destitute of
vegetation, became as charming as a blooming meadow. The quantities of
butterflies in this district are very large in comparison to what are
found in the northern regions of Africa at this season.

Two leagues to the south of the new Seriba was the site of the one
which had been burnt. But few vestiges remained, for nature here soon
effaces what fire may have spared. The only surviving evidence of its
ever having been the resort of men was a thriving grove of plantains
(_Musa sapientum_). The shoots had been introduced from the Niam-niam
lands. In the meagre households of the Nubians, fruits and vegetables
are hardly considered necessaries; indolence and distaste for work
cause the gardens to be much neglected. By my own experience, I have
found that all garden produce of the southern regions can be
cultivated here at the outlay of very little attention. The plantain
bears fruit within eighteen months of its first sprouting.

Copious is the river as it flows by the place, shaded by magnificent
afzelia, filæa, and syzygium. The impenetrable jungles of bamboo,
which extend on either side, are the abode of a large number of
bear-baboons. It was in vain that for some hours I pursued one after
another of these bellowing brutes: immediately they became aware of my
approach, they were knowing enough to quit their exposed positions on
the trees and conceal themselves amidst the waving grass. The jungle
swarmed, too, with great warthogs (_Phacochærus_), which appear as
ineradicable as the wild boars of Europe. The chase of these had small
attraction for me, aware as I was of the extreme unsavouriness of
their flesh.

[Sidenote: THE RAPHIA VINIFERA.]

On my way back to the Seriba I made a slight detour, in order to visit
the village of the Dyoor chief Okale. This lies to the east, upon a
small stream, the banks of which are shadowed by some splendid woods
that display the glories of the Niam-niam wilderness. It was like an
enclave of the south transported to the bushwoods of the north. I
looked here that I might discover the palm-tree, which the Khartoomers
call the Nakhl-el-Faraoon (or Pharaoh’s date-palm), and of which they
had given a wonderful description that roused my curiosity. I soon
satisfied myself that they really meant the _Raphia vinifera_, which
grows far and wide throughout tropical Africa, although probably, in
this direction, this may be its limit. A considerable number of the
trees and plants characteristic of the Niam-niam lands occurred to me
in my rambles, and amongst them the blippo (_Gardenia malleifera_),
with the inky sap of which the Niam-niam and the Monbuttoo delight to
dye themselves.

Whether we advanced through villages or hamlets, we always found the
overseers in their full state. Their official costume was everywhere a
long chintz shirt. From their sparkling eyes beamed forth the delight
with which they regarded my appearance, doubtless to them singular
enough. Most readily they admitted me to every corner of their
households, whence I procured one curiosity after another, and what I
could not carry away I copied into my sketch-book.

Although I could not manage, in the course of an excursion not
occupying three weeks, to traverse the entire district of the Dyoor, I
nevertheless very much increased my familiarity with their habits, of
which I will conclude this chapter with a concise account.

Dyoor is a name assigned by the Dinka, and is synonymous with men of
the woods, or wild men. This designation is a name of contempt, and is
intended to imply the condition of poverty, in which, according to
Dinka ideas, the Dyoor spend their existence. Of course, it refers to
their giving their sole attention to agriculture, to their few goats
and poultry, and to their disregard of property in cattle. They speak
of themselves as Lwoh. They use the Shillook dialect unaltered except
in a few expressions which they have adopted, and are anxious to claim
a northern origin, specifying their progenitors as O-Shwolo, or
Shillooks. The area of their territory is quite small, and their
number cannot exceed 20,000 souls.

On the north they are bounded by the numerically large tribe of the
Dembo and some smaller kindred clans. Eighty miles to the south of
them, but separated by the entire width of the Bongo country, reside
the Belanda, a tribe of which the customs are modified by their
intercourse with the Bongo, but which still make use, with very minor
differences, of the Shillook dialect. These Belanda are partly under
the surveillance of the Niam-niam king Solongho, and partly tributary
to the intruders from Khartoom.

The chequered map of Africa suggests to every reflective mind many
considerations as to how any advance in civilisation can be possible.
There is an utter want of wholesome intercourse between race and race.
For any member of a tribe which speaks one dialect to cross the
borders of a tribe that speaks another is to make a venture at the
hazard of his life. Districts there are, otherwise prosperous in every
way, which become over-populated, and from these there are
emigrations, which entail a change of pursuits, so that cattle-breeders
become agriculturists and agriculturists become hunters living on the
chase; districts again there are which shelter the remnant of a people
who are resisting oppression to the very verge of despair; and there
are districts, moreover, which have been actually reduced to a
condition of vassalage and servitude; but the case is here altogether
without example of a district which, whatever be its other
fluctuations, has ever submitted to a change of race or of tongue.

[Sidenote: DYOOR DECORATIONS.]

Former travellers, although they have found their way to the Dyoor
without concerning themselves with the origin of the people, appear to
have made the observation that their complexion is a shade lighter
than that of the Dinka. For my part I am convinced that this is so;
not that I should feel justified in insisting upon this token as
showing a difference between Dinka and Shillooks. Probably, the colour
of the skin of the Dyoor loses something of its darker hue from their
living in the shadows of their woodlands; but this is a question which
involves meteorological and geographical considerations which are
beyond our grasp.

In spite of their intercourse for many years, and their partial
dependence upon the Dinka, the Dyoor have not departed from the
Shillook mode of decorating themselves. Just on the extreme borders a
few may every now and then be found imitating the radial stripes upon
the foreheads; but it is quite uncommon for either sex to tattoo
themselves. Neither does their daily familiarity with the Nubians
induce them to adopt a modest dress. They only wear round the back of
their loins a short covering of leather, something like the skirts of
an ordinary frock coat; a calfskin answers this purpose best, of which
they make two tails to hang down behind. Anything like the decorations
of the hair which have excited our wonder amongst the Shillook and the
Dinka is here totally rejected, and the Dyoor, men and women alike,
have their hair close cropped.

The favourite ornaments of the men very much resemble those of the
Dinka, consisting of a collection of iron rings below the elbow and a
huge ivory ring above the elbow. One decoration peculiar to themselves
consists of some heavy circlets of molten brass, which are very
elaborately engraved. Brass, as known amongst the people, is called
“damara,” and is about thrice the value of copper; it had been
introduced into their traffic long before the arrival of any
Khartoomers, having been brought as an article of commerce by the
Dembo, who, as neighbours of the Baggara, were led into business
relations alike with Kordofan and Darfoor on the one hand, and with
the northern negroes on the other. Our fine metals, one and all, were
quite unknown amongst them.

[Illustration: Brass Ornaments of the Dyoor.]

Their women, too, in hardly any respect differ from the Dinka women;
like them burdening the wrists and ankles with a cluster of rings.
Very frequently one great iron ring is thrust through the nose, the
hole to admit it being bored indifferently through the base, the
bridge, or the nostrils. The rims of the ears also are pierced to
carry an indefinite number of rings. These deformities are especially
characteristic of the Bellanda, who sometimes attach to their nose a
dozen rings at once.

[Illustration: Portrait of a Dyoor.]

[Sidenote: GLASS BEADS.]

One of the iron decorations which is most admired, and which is found
far away right into the heart of Africa, I first saw here amongst the
Dyoor; I mean the iron beads or perforated little cylinders of iron,
strung together. These have some historical interest attached to them
in connection with the development of trade in Africa, arising from
the fact that they were earlier in use than glass beads, to which they
must be compared. Glass beads, obviously, were only brought into the
market after it had been proved that the natives would be willing to
wear ornaments like in form but of a lighter material than the hard
metal which they were wont to forge into shape piece by piece. The
Japanese and other inhabitants of Eastern Asia are known to trick
themselves out in steel beads, thus evidencing their long exclusion
from all intercourse with Europe. In the Soudan these strings of beads
were principally made at Wandala, and Barth has specially noticed them
at Marghi. Every tribe which I visited in proceeding inland from the
Gazelle I found to retain the preference for beads made of iron.

The derivation of the stock from a negro race of the nobler kind, and
one which has a small development of jaw, such as the Shillook, may be
fairly understood from the accompanying portrait. The sitting figure
is a likeness which I took at my leisure of one of my bearers. I
thought it would illustrate the graceful slimness of the limbs, which
nevertheless are all in due proportion. It may serve, too, in a degree
to exemplify the appropriateness of the expression “swamp-man,” which
I have several times employed, and moreover may help to justify the
comparison which has likened them to a bird.

[Illustration: Portrait of a Dyoor.]

In recent times they have lost some of their ancient habits. For
instance, the practice of mutual spitting, which was long the ordinary
mode of salutation, has fallen into desuetude. Throughout the entire
period of my residence in Africa I was never a witness of it more than
three times: and in all these cases the spitting betokened the most
affectionate goodwill; it was a pledge of attachment, an oath of
fidelity; it was to their mind the proper way of giving solemnity to a
league of friendship.

The spot which the Dyoor inhabit is the inferior terrace of the
ferruginous formation in the district. The consequence is that they
are quite at home with all iron work. The Dinka, although they do not
settle down close to them, because of the hostility of the Bongo, yet
are glad to welcome the Dyoor, in order to avail themselves of their
aid in getting at the iron, which would otherwise be unsecured. It
might almost be said that every Dyoor is a smith by profession. The
result of their toil, however, does not so much find its way to the
underground stores of the Dinka as to the magazines of the Khartoom
merchants.

[Illustration: Spear Head.]

[Illustration: Dyoor Spade.]

[Sidenote: SPEAR-HEADS AND SPADES.]

The accustomed shape in which the raw material is used as a medium of
exchange is in spear heads[22] or in spades. Throughout the whole
district of the Upper Nile these answer all the purpose of our current
coin. Although the superficial veins of iron ore, for hundreds of
miles, do not differ much in their appearance, there are only certain
localities which produce an ore that, under the primitive mode of
smelting, yields a remunerative supply of genuine metal. One of these
prolific veins is found in the proximity of Kurshook Ali’s Seriba.
With a perseverance for which I could not have given them credit, the
natives have dug out trenches some ten feet deep, from which they have
obtained a material very like our roe-stone. Considerable quantities
of red ochre are discovered, but they are not turned to any account,
through ignorance of a proper way of manipulation.

Just before the commencement of seed-time, in March, the Dyoor make a
general move away from their huts, partly for the purpose of dragging
the rivers for fish, and partly to busy themselves with iron-smelting
in the woods. In the shaded centre of a very wooded spot they
construct their furnaces of common clay, making them in groups,
sometimes as many as a dozen, according to the number of the party.
Their wives and children accompany them, and carry all their movables.
In the midst of the wilderness, otherwise so desolate, they form a
singular picture. The stems of the trees gleam again with their lances
and harpoons; on the branches hang the stout bows ready for the
buffalo hunt; everywhere are seen the draw-nets, hand-nets, snares and
creels, and other fishing-tackle. There is a mingled collection of
household effects, consisting of gourd-shells, baskets, dried fish and
crocodile, game, horns, and hides. On the ground lie piles of coals,
of ore, of cinders, and of dross. Petherick, the first explorer of
this Dyoor district, has given a very accurate account of their
primitive method of smelting iron, so that I may be repeating in a
degree what has been related before: many things, however, there are
which appeared to me under a somewhat different aspect.

[Sidenote: DYOOR SMELTING FURNACE.]

[Illustration: Dyoor Smelting-furnace.]

The smelting-furnace is a cone, not more than four feet high, widening
at the top into a great goblet shape. So little deviation was there in
the form of any that I saw that all seemed to me to be erected on
precisely the same model. One obstacle to the construction of larger
furnaces is the extreme difficulty of preventing the mass of clay from
cracking in the process of drying. The cup-shaped aperture at the top
communicates by a very small throat with the cavity below, which is
entirely filled with carbons. Into the upper receiver are thrown
fragments of ore, of about a solid inch, till it is full. The hollow
tunnel extends lower than the level of the ground; and the melted mass
of iron, finding its way through the red-hot fuel, collects below in a
pile of slag. At the base there are four openings: one of these is
much larger than the others, and is used for the removal of the
scoriæ; the other three are to admit the long tewel-irons, which reach
to the middle of the bottom, and keep the apertures free for the
admission of air. Without stoking, the openings would very soon become
blocked up with slag. In reply to my inquiry I was told that bellows
are never employed; it was said that too fierce a fire was injurious,
and caused a loss of metal. A period of a day and a half, or about
forty hours, is requisite to secure the product of one kindling. When
the flames have penetrated right through the mass of ore until they
rise above it, the burning is presumed to be satisfactory.

Amongst the Bongo the furnaces are different, being generally
constructed in three compartments, and fitted with bellows. They also
place layers of ore and fuel alternately.

The deposit of metal and fuel is heated a second time, and the heavy
portion, which is detached in little leaflets and granules, is once
more subjected to fire in crucibles of clay. The particles, red-hot,
are beaten together by a great stone into one compact mass, and, by
repeated hammering, are made to throw off their final dross. Nearly
half of the true metal is scattered about during the progress of the
smelting, and would be entirely lost if it were not secured by the
natives. In regard to its homogeneousness and its malleability, the
iron procured in this way is quite equal to the best forged iron of
our country.

The Dyoor and the Bongo appear almost equally ignorant about
charcoal-burning. They understand very little about the exclusion of
air from the furnaces, or of burning their wood in piles: their
science seems limited to the combustion of small fragments heaped up
over one another till the fire below them is choked, or subdued by
pouring water upon the top. I am not aware whether the other negroes
have mastered the secret of charcoal-making; but if what has been said
about the Dyoor holds good about Africa in general, it accounts at
once for the remarkable fact that in spite of the abundance of the
crude material, iron is so little employed. There is a universal
absence of lime, so that stone erections are quite unknown.

If a comparison might be instituted, I should say that in Africa iron
might be estimated to have a value about equivalent to copper with us,
whilst the worth of copper would correspond to that of silver.

[Illustration: DYOOR VILLAGE IN WINTER.]

[Sidenote: DYOOR HUTS.]

For fifteen years have the Nubians now been brought into contact with
this region, but they have never taught the natives either the way of
making bricks or any intelligent conception of the use of charcoal.
Themselves too lazy to improve the treasures which a bountiful Nature
has flung amongst them, they are too idle and too indifferent to
stimulate even the people they have subjugated to put forth any energy
at all. And this is but one proof out of many of the demoralising
tendency of Islamism, which would ever give a retrograde movement to
all civilisation.

Throughout Africa I have never come across a tribe that has not
adopted a mode of building huts which, alike with respect to exterior
and interior, is not peculiar to itself. The huts of the Dyoor do not
resemble the mushroom shapes of the Shillooks, nor are they like the
substantial huts of the Dinka, massive and distinguished by small
outbuildings and porches. Again, they could not for a moment be
mistaken to be dwellings of the Bongo, because they have no straw
projections about the top of the roof. In a general way they are a yet
more simple and unadorned construction—not that they are destitute of
that neat symmetry which seems to belong to all negro dwellings. The
roof is a simple pyramid of straw, of which the section is an
equilateral triangle, the substructure being all of wickerwork, either
of wood or bamboo, and cemented with clay.

Inside every hut there is a large receptacle for storing whatever corn
or other provision is necessary for the household. These are made of
wickerwork, and have a shape like great bottles. To protect them
against the rats, which never fail to carry on their depredations,
they are most carefully overdaubed with thick clay. They occupy a very
large proportion of the open space in the interior; very often they
are six or seven feet in height, and sometimes are made from a
compound of chopped stubble and mud. After the huts have been
abandoned, and all else has fallen into decay, these very frequently
survive, and present the appearance of a bake-oven gone to ruin. In
the Arabic of the Soudan this erection is called a “googah.” It is
derived from the Dinka; the huts of the Bongo and the Niam-niam having
nothing of the sort, because they build detached granaries for their
corn.

The picture which is here introduced is a representation of the rural
pursuits of this peaceful tribe. It is presumed to be winter time,
when, for some months to come, no rain is to be expected. It may be
taken as illustrating what might be witnessed at any time between
October and April. The tall erections adjacent to the huts contain the
various grain requisite for the next seed time, and may be supposed to
be full of the sorghum, the maize, and the gourd.[23] It is better to
let these be exposed to the sun rather than to run the risk of having
them devoured by rats or vermin in the huts. Underneath these
structures the goats are hid; besides these, dogs and some poultry are
the only domestic animals they keep.

The open space in front of the huts consists of a plain, most
carefully levelled by treading it down. Upon this floor, which is
perfectly hard, the corn is winnowed; and it serves as a common area
for all domestic purposes. In front of the huts, too, sunk to some
depth below the ground, there is a great wooden mortar, in which the
corn, after it has been first pounded by the primitive African method
of stones, is reduced to a fine meal by rubbing with the hands. The
Dinka also use these sunken mortars, which are hewn out of some hard
wood; but the Bongo and Niam-niam carry with them movable mortars of a
smaller size.

[Sidenote: DYOOR PURSUITS.]

To the right may be observed a man, who is collecting iron ore, and
one of the wicker baskets which belong to the reserve of corn. Great
gongs hang upon the posts towards the left, and some of the massive
bows, of which the strings are ready stretched by a billet to serve as
snares. This artifice is employed by several of the people of this
district to facilitate their chase of the wild buffaloes. Very strong
straps of hide are strained across the tall grass of the lowlands,
where the buffaloes congregate. One end is fastened either to a tree
or to a peg driven into the ground, the other end attached to the bow.
This forms a kind of noose which, through the rebound of the billet,
tightens itself about the legs of the buffalo when it strains it. The
startled beast makes a bound, and is immediately fettered. The
hunters, who had been lying in wait, seize this moment and, with their
lances, strike at the prey, which, if not utterly entangled, is sure
by the bow to be obstructed in its running. In a similar way all the
larger antelopes are captured, especially the powerful eland, at which
it is hard to get, even after it has been driven to the marshy levels.

Good large families have the Dyoor; and were it not that the Nubians
come upon the land, and every year carry off at least half the corn
that is grown, there would long ago have been, as with their kindred
on the White Nile, a dense Dyoor population. They partake also of the
skilfulness of the Shillooks in obtaining resources for livelihood in
various ways: they pursue the chase, they practise fishing when they
have the chance; they are industrious in tillage; they thoroughly
appreciate the value of cattle, and would like to possess it, although
in their new settlement they can boast little more than a few kids and
goats. To have a well-stocked poultry-yard, and to possess that friend
of man, a good dog, is essential to the satisfaction of a Dyoor
household. Upon these the attention of the men is centred, and on
these they make their largest outlay. If they escape servitude to the
Nubians, and are not obliged to turn porters to convey their burdens,
or builders to erect their dwellings, they employ themselves with
their fishing and hunting, or in practising the art of Tubal Cain.
Labour in the fields is all done by the women, upon whom also falls
the entire domestic superintendence as well as the actual work of the
house; they make all the wickerwork and do all the manipulation of the
clay; they trample down the level floor and mould the vessels of every
size. It is remarkable how they manage with the mere hand to turn out
immense vessels which, even to a critical eye, have all the appearance
of being made on a wheel. In order to render a clay floor perfectly
level and free from cracks they work in a very original way. They
procure from the woods a piece of tough bark, about three feet long;
they then kneel down upon the clay, and persevere in patting it with
their pieces of bark till they make the surface of the soil as smooth
as though it had been rolled. In a very similar way they prepare the
graves for their dead, which they arrange very close to their huts. A
circular mound, some three or four feet high, indicates the situation
of the last resting-place of a Dyoor so long as the violence of the
rain allows it to retain its shape; but a very few years suffice to
obliterate the final vestiges of these transient memorials.

Affection for parents and for children is developed amongst the Dyoor
much more decidedly than in any other Central African tribe which I
have known. In a way that I have not observed among other pagan
negroes, they place their infants in long baskets that answer the
purpose of cradles. There is a kind of affection which even brutes can
display to their offspring as well as human beings. In the very lowest
grades of human society there is ever a kind of bond which lasts for
life between mother and child, although the father may be a stranger
to it. Such, to say the least, is the measure of affection which the
Dyoor show to their little ones. Nor is this all; they have a
reverence for age; and in every hamlet there are grey heads amongst
them.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [19] The word Niam-niam has the Italian pronunciation of
     “Gnamgnam.”

     [20] It may not be superfluous to give a picture of an old
     buck, nor to remark that the females also have horns.

     [21] Separate illustrations are given of the male and
     female.

     [22] The spear-heads, as represented in the engraving, are
     about three-quarters of a yard in length.

     [23] The Dyoor cultivate very nearly the same crops as the
     Bongo, and these will be described with reference to that
     people.




                              CHAPTER VI.

  Laying out a garden _à l’Européenne_. Hunting adventure with
     a bastard Gems-bok. Death of Arslan. Physiognomy of the
     vegetation. Character of the soil. Geography of plants.
     Destruction of a Seriba by natives. Seriba law. Cattle-raids on
     the Dinka. Tour round Ghattas’s Seribas. Geography at Geer. Fish
     of the Tondy. Fear of ghosts in Koolongo. Caves of Gubbehee.
     Cental African jackal. Bamboos in blossom. Triumph of Nature
     over her traducers. Joint-stock distillery in Gurfala. Nubian
     love of drink. Petherick’s Mundo. Unsuccessful chase in the long
     grass. Two bush-antelopes. Cultivated plants of the district.
     Cereals. Large growth of sorghum. Leguminous fruits. Oily
     fruits. Tubers. Vegetables. Tobacco. Smoking in Africa.


I was again in Ghattas’s Seriba on the 13th of May. The arrival of an
ivory caravan on its return journey had brought an unwonted animation.
But for me very soon the ordinary routine of life came back, and one
day passed on just like another in the closest intercourse with
Nature. Except during some temporary excursions to the Bongo, this
Seriba would be my residence for some months to come, and I set to
work to make my quarters as comfortable as I could in a good-sized hut
which had been vacated for me.

The first thing I did was to lay out a large vegetable garden, a task
which engaged not only all my own people, but gave occupation to not a
few of the black slaves of the place. I had not only brought with me a
good supply of pickaxes and spades, but I had likewise a capital
collection of seeds. Thus I hoped at once to provide for my own
necessities, and to prove to the natives the productiveness of their
soil. The plot of ground was nearly 200 paces square, and the next
thing was to enclose it with a hedge of straw, and to lay it out with
a series of parallel beds. The larger number of these beds I planted
with the best sorts of maize, of which I had procured the original
ears from New Jersey.

Seventy days after sowing I reaped the crop, and the ingathering did
not simply answer ray highest expectations, but surpassed in quality
the original stock; the kinds which seemed to succeed best being those
which after they are dry are horny and transparent.

Tobacco from Maryland grew to an immense height, and I gathered
several hundredweights of it. There was not altogether so much of a
deficiency of tobacco in the country as of the larger leaves, of which
use could be made for rolling into cigars. In Egypt the Virginian
tobacco can be made to grow leaves as large as the palm of one’s hand,
but in the negro districts the whole produce is quite diminutive.
Negroes always sow tobacco under cover before they plant it out; the
midday sun of Central Africa is too powerful for the seed, which
infallibly perishes in a parched soil. I had always to guard against
the same difficulty with all my European vegetables, especially in
July, or at other times, when five or six days without a drop of rain
would come in succession, and I only saved my young sprouts by having
water brought twice a day by the women in their great pitchers. Worms
did a vast amount of mischief amongst the germinating seeds, and no
devastator was more destructive than the great millipede
(_Spirostreptus_), which, as long and thick as my finger, penetrated
the soil in every direction. The havoc made in this way amongst the
beans before they were set was very considerable.

[Sidenote: GARDEN VEGETABLES.]

The hard, yet fertile soil, I feel certain, is quite suited for our
cucumbers, cabbage, turnip-cabbage, and radishes. Of radishes, the
European sort succeeds better than the Egyptian, which belongs to
quite an anomalous variety. Melons and water-melons can only be
ripened during the winter months, when they are artificially protected
and supplied with moisture. Any attempt to grow them in the rainy
season always results in failure; either the fruit is eaten by worms
long before it is mature, or the leaves are devoured by grubs. Here,
too, I trained some tomatoes and sunflowers, which ever since have
been quite naturalised in this part of Africa. Had my sojourn been
longer, I should have made an attempt at establishing the plantain, of
which indeed I saw some isolated plants now and then in the Seriba.
This is a natural production of the land of the Niam-niam; it would
doubtless thrive here, but the indolence of the Nubians is so great,
and their indifference towards all produce that must be gained by toil
is so indomitable, that garden culture amongst them remains fitful and
unprogressive.

When I had seen all the labours of the kitchen-garden complete, I was
free to abandon myself to the full delights of the flora. Up with the
sun, I used to take one or two of my people with me to carry my
portfolios and my arms, and in the safe proximity of the Seriba I
explored the woods for hours together, returning about noon with a
whole treasury of floral wealth. My table at meals never failed to be
well supplied, and I was treated as bountifully as in Africa I could
be. I enjoyed sitting in the shade of some spreading tree, while I
proceeded to analyse, to classify, and to register, the various
novelties which I was perpetually finding. Later in the day I was in
the habit of wandering out alone over the plains, whilst my servants
at home busied themselves in renewing the paper for my _hortus
siccus_, and in pressing out the plants afresh. This labour of the day
was often carried on till quite late at night: it was repeated so
often that my collection increased to a very considerable extent; roll
was piled up after roll; everything most carefully stitched up in
hides ready to go along with me on my farther journey, and to be
carried across deserts and seas until they could finally be deposited
in the magazines of science.

[Sidenote: BASTARD GEMSBOK.]

One of these rambles into the woods led to a singular hunting
adventure, which could only occur in Central Africa. I had been
sitting crouched up for half an hour or more under the shade of a
butter-tree, in the midst of some tall grass, and, engaged in the
dissection of my plants, I had quite forgotten where I was. My three
attendants were enjoying, as they were accustomed, a peaceful doze;
stillness reigned so supreme in the solitude that one could almost
hear the tread of every emmet on the soil, as backwards and forwards
it hurried to the laboratory within its hill. All at once a huge
shadow came in sight, and looking up I saw, just within pistol-range,
the great form of a buck antelope. I was struck as much with
admiration as with surprise: the creature had seemed to come suddenly
from the earth. My heart fluttered at the apparition, but I could not
be otherwise than sensible of its beauty. It was a specimen of the
bastard gems-bok (_Antilope leucophæa_). Except on the belly, which
was white, its long hair was all of a brownish grey. It carried its
head erect; its ears were long and pointed; its horns massive and very
long; its black legs going off into white fetlocks. A stiff mane of
bright brown crested its curved neck, and reached to its withers. It
had a tail like the giraffe, with which it wisped off the flies—a
tuft of hair of about nine inches in length appended to a long slim
stem. There it stood, majestically, I might say, like a stately
buffalo when it surveys the region all around before it trusts itself
to feed. There it stood, in an attitude at once commanding and
defiant. Whenever it moved the grass crackled beneath its tread, and
ere long it shifted its place again and turned its full face towards
me. I cautiously reached out my hand for a rifle that was lying near
me, pushed back the guard, and, at the next movement of the beast, hit
it with a ball right upon the shoulder-blade from a distance of about
twenty paces. The creature reared itself up, then paused an instant,
staggered, and let its head sink down as if amazed. I was just about
to get hold of a second rifle when there came a sudden crash, and,
while I was still sitting, the animal had fallen just beyond the open
portfolio which was lying outspread before me. Fortune had thus cast
the noble prey right into my clutches.

[Illustration: Central African Bastard Gemsbok (_Antilope
leucophæa_).]

The sound of the rifle had hardly aroused my people, for this is a
country where a stray shot does not attract attention for an instant;
but my shout of surprise and delight brought them quickly to their
feet. Some negroes were soon fetched from the neighbouring huts, who
quickly completed the work of flaying and jointing the prey. Its head
alone weighed 35 pounds. The natives informed me that the Mahnya (as
the Bongo call this species of antelope) are among the rarest animals
of the district, although they live as much in one quarter as another.
They are ordinarily found singly and far separate from any other of
their kindred race; and it is said that the largest of them will
assail a huntsman, and are as furious when angry as a wild buffalo.

For a long time I was sorely depressed by the loss of my trusty
Arslan, who had been with me ever since I left Berlin and had reached
the remote wilderness. He had accompanied me through all the hardships
of travel; and here I hoped that all dangers were passed, and now that
the heat of the desert and the privations of water had been overcome,
I had no fear of losing him; but he sank a victim to the treachery of
the climate. My dog had seemed to me almost the last link that bound
me to my home, and when I lost him I felt as though a bridge had been
broken down which connected me with my native soil. It would have been
a grief to me to lose my dog anywhere, but to lose him here was doubly
sorrowful—here, amongst circumstances where he more than ever
replaced the lack of a friend.

Nature, pure and free, must ever be a great consoler amidst all the
disappointments of life. The stillness and peace of the plant-world
brought ease to my troubled mind. To that world, as I turned then, I
may be permitted to return now.

Nothing could more completely witness to the great variety of
vegetation in my immediate neighbourhood than the fact that during my
residence of five months I made a collection of almost 700 flowering
plants, which I duly classified. It would not be possible in Europe
during a whole year to gather so large a number if one were limited to
the environs of a single town. From my own experience I am satisfied
that, notwithstanding all means of intercommunication, it would be
beyond the power of a botanist to secure anything like 500 species in
an entire season. This would arise very much from his having to change
his position, and from the varying time at which plants come into
bloom: but here, in the land of the Dyoor and the Bongo, Flora seems
to delight in crowding all her profusion upon the earlier months of
the rainy period: the autumn is left comparatively barren, and even at
the height of the rains there is little to be found which was not
already in perfection some time before.

[Sidenote: WOODLANDS.]

The land itself seems decidedly less varied than in the most uniform
districts of Germany. Woods indeed there are, and steppes; there are
low grassy pastures and shrubby thickets; there are fields and
coppices; there are marshes and pools; there are bare rocky flats, and
occasionally a rocky declivity; very rarely, and only in the dry,
out-drained river-beds, are sands to be met with; and from these
ordinary characteristics there is little or no deviation.

The features of the woodlands are, however, very diversified. There
are trees which run up to a height varying from 30 to 40 feet, and
these alternate with dwarf shrubs and compact underwood. Many of the
fields are marked by single trees, which stand quite apart, and which
have been intentionally preserved by the natives because of their
edible fruit. In some places there are low-lying grassy flats, which
in the rainy months are quite impassable, because the grass grows
taller than a man; whilst in others the grass is stunted, because
there is but a thin layer of soil to cover the rock below, and
consequently vegetation is comparatively weak. As to the
pasture-lands, they seem to be interrupted every here and there with
bushy and impenetrable thickets, which are either grouped around some
isolated trees or luxuriate about some high white ant-hill. In the
shade of these are found the splendid bulbs of the Hæmanthus,
Gloriosa, Clorophytum, together with Aroideæ, ground-orchids, and the
wonderful Kosaria. Upon the drier spots within the forests, or where
the clay-soil happens to be mixed with sand, weeds and herbaceous
plants are found which recall the flora of the northern steppes.
Amongst these are the Capparideæ, which (existing as they do in the
south of Nubia) make good their claim to be a bond of union between
the two zones. Pressing further into the thickets which are formed in
the forests, we come across great trees so thickly bound by the
wonderful foliage of the large creeper Carpodinus, that a ray of
sunlight can never pass them. Here, too, are wild vines of many a
kind, the festoons of which are further burdened as they hang by
Dioscoriæ and Asclepiads.

[Illustration: Kosaria palmata.]

Many are the comparisons that might be made by way of analogy between
the numerous trees of this delightfully wooded district and those of
our own home. Some of the trees at first sight have a considerable
likeness to our common oaks: amongst these may be named both the
Terminalia and the butter-tree (_Bassia_ or _Buterospermum_). The
fruit of the latter consists of a globular oily kernel, which looks
something like a horse-chestnut, and which is as large as a good-sized
apricot, and is enveloped in a green rind. This envelope can be kept
till it is as enjoyable as a medlar, and is considered one of the
chief fruits of the country. From the kernels of this widely-known
tree an oil is expressed, which, under the name of “butter of Galam,”
is a recognised article of commerce in Gambia; it has an unpleasant
flavour, which makes it not at all a desirable adjunct to the table,
and so, for us, it has but an insignificant value; its most valuable
property is that, at a temperature of 68° Fahr., it becomes as solid
as tallow. The tree itself is very handsome, having a bark which is
regularly marked by polygonal rifts in its surface, and which permits
it to be likened to an oak.

[Sidenote: FRUCTIFEROUS TREES.]

A very common tree, which bears a somewhat striking resemblance to our
white beech, is the small-leaved Anogeissus. Nut-trees are here
replaced by Kigelia and Odina. Far spread as are trees of the
character of our oak, so too we may say are trees which have the look
of a horse-chestnut. Of this kind is the _Vitex Cienkowskii_, with
others of the species, of which the sweet olive-shaped fruit is
gathered as assiduously by the natives as by the wart-hogs, who relish
it exceedingly. Another favourite fruit is the produce of the
_Diospyros mespiliformis_. The plane-tree may here be said to be
represented, equally with respect to its bark, its foliage, and the
pattern of its leaves, by the splendid _Sterculia tomentosa_, which
has established itself pretty generally throughout Tropical Africa. In
the place of willows Africa offers the Anaphrenium; and over and over
again the traveller may fancy that he sees the graceful locust-tree.
The Parkia is another of those imposing trees which are met with; the
leaves of this are not unlike the Poinciana, which is known also as
the Poincillade or Flamboyer: its flowers are a fiery red with long
stamens, and hang in a tuft; when they die off they leave a whole
bundle of pods, a foot in length, in which the seeds are found covered
with a yellow dust. The Bongo, as indeed do the Peulhs of Footah
Dyalon in West Africa, mix this mealy dust with their flour, and seem
to enjoy it, but it needs an African palate to conquer the
repulsiveness of this preparation.

Many types of vegetation, however, abound, to which we are altogether
unaccustomed, and can exhibit nothing which appears to correspond. It
is not only by the exuberance and dignity of their forms that these
are marked, but still more by the novelty and grace with which Nature
seems to have invested them. No European production in any way
represents the _Anona senegalensis_, with its large blue-green leaf
and its small fruit. This fruit contains an aromatic dark red pulp,
and in a modest degree it displays something of that captivating
quality which has exalted its kindred plant, the Cherimoyer of Peru,
to its high repute as the queen of fruits. It must be owned, however,
that it is difficult to secure a well-developed example of this fruit,
for so keenly is it spied out and devoured by the birds that often for
months together it may be sought in vain.

Much more singular is the magnificent candelabra-euphorbia, which
follows the pattern of its prototype, the American cactus. Palms are
not frequent enough to play any important part in the scenery, or to
demand any particular specification. Groups of the Borassus are
observed near the river-banks, and the _Phœnix spinosa_, the original
of the date-palm, grows upon the marshes of the steppe. Next must be
mentioned the varieties of fig-trees, with their leathery leaves, and,
associated with them, those chief characteristics of African
vegetation, the Combreta and the Rubiaceæ; tamarinds with their thick
tubular corollas, and shrubby Gardeniæ, dwarf and contorted. It was
the southern limit of the acacias of the White Nile; and only in
isolated cases was the stem of the Balanites to be seen, lingering, as
it were, on the steppes of Nubia. Even the tamarind had become scarce,
and farther south I did not meet with it at all.

[Sidenote: CONFORMATION OF THE LAND.]

In its general character the flora of this district seems to conform
very much to what has been discovered on the table-land of Western
Africa, of which the lower terraces form a narrow belt along the
shore, and are distinguished for the wild luxuriance with which the
African primeval forest seeks to rival the splendour of Brazilian
nature. In contrast to this, the bush-forests in the higher parts of
Tropical Africa, broken by the steppes, present in uniformity perhaps
the most extensive district that could be pointed out in the whole
geography of vegetation. Extending, as it does, from Senegal to the
Zambesi, and from Abyssinia to Benguela, Tropical Africa may be
asserted to be without any perceptible alternation in character, but
that which is offered by the double aspect of steppe and bush on the
one hand, and by primeval forest in the American sense on the other.
On the west this is illustrated by the marked difference between the
table-lands and the low coast-terraces, whilst in the interior it is
exhibited by the distinction between the woods on the river banks and
the flats lying between the river courses. Here, in the country of the
Bongo and Dyoor, this, which may be designated as a duality, almost
completely fails, on account of the small supply of water in the
rivers and brooks; but in the land of the Niam-niam it is again very
striking.

Limited as have been the botanical collections of the few who have
explored this immense region, they are still sufficient to justify us
in estimating the relative abundance of species. When the collections
from Java and Brazil are compared with those of Tropical Africa, it is
certain that the plants of Africa are not altogether half so numerous.

It is not in the least below the most abundant tropical districts of
the New World in producing timber trees. Trees and shrubs constitute
quite a fifth of the entire production, and in the woods of the Bongo
the variety of foliage is everywhere astonishing. Any tracts covered
by a single species are altogether rare, and would exist only within
the most limited range. This uniformity of Tropical Africa in
comparison with the enormous space which it occupies, and the striking
want of provinces in the geography of its plants which it displays,
are the results of several agencies. On the one hand, it arises from
the massive and compact form of the whole; and on the other hand, by
an external girdle which keeps it shut up, so that it is not
penetrated by foreign types of vegetation. This girdle is made by
currents of the sea and long tracts of desert (the Sahara and
Kalahari), and encircles it entirely. In the direction towards Arabia
there is, as it were, a bridge into the regions of India, and, indeed,
the Indian flora has a great share in the characteristics of its
vegetation. The greater number of the African cultivated plants, as
well as nearly all their associated weeds, have been, beyond a doubt,
derived from India—a conjecture, equivalent to a prophecy, which Rob.
Brown had formed at a time when little was known of the vegetation of
Central Africa.

Already have I expressed my happiness at having thus reached the
object of my cherished hopes—my satisfaction at thus finding life to
be with me an idyll of African nature. My health was unimpaired, and
never before had I been less hindered in prosecuting my pursuits. I
felt alone in the temple of creation. The people around me were
somewhat embarrassing. Their wickedness, with its attendant impurity,
stood out in sad contrast to the purity of nature; but it did not much
disturb the inner repose of this still life. In sickness everything is
sad, and the craving for home is not to be suppressed; but whoever, in
the robustness of health, can imbibe the fresh animation of the
wilderness, will find that it stamps something of its unchanging
verdure upon his memory; his imagination will elevate it to a
paradise, and the days spent there will enrol themselves among the
very happiest of his life.

[Sidenote: AN ABANDONED SERIBA.]

One day in June there came back to the Seriba a company which had been
sent out by the agent to fetch the ivory which had been stored in one
of the minor Seribas of Ghattas on the Rohl, 130 miles away to the
south-west. The proper place of embarkation for the Seribas on the
Rohl, which are under a separate agent, is the Meshera Aboo-kooka, on
the Bahr-el-Gebel, which is nearer than the Gazelle; but during this
year the natives were animated by such a hostile spirit, that the
shorter route was impracticable, and thus it was necessary to proceed
to the banks of the Gazelle. In April the chief Seriba in this
territory had been abandoned by the few men who had been left, after
nearly all their entire garrison of a hundred men had been killed
during a raid against the Dinka tribe of the Agar. The remnant, who
had been informed of the calamity by some friendly natives, found
themselves in a great strait. They could see no prospect of defending
themselves, and were compelled to surrender all their stores and
ammunition, and to escape under cover of night to one of the dependent
Seribas. The main body of the troops were still out on an expedition
to the Niam-niam country, and it was only the fear of their sudden
return which deterred the Agar from annihilating the very last of
their foes. They plundered and burnt down the Seriba, which has never
since been restored. It was formerly the property of the brothers
Poncet, although they were never known to visit it. Petherick halted
at it whilst he was on his desperate march to Gondokoro, and inserted
it upon his map under the name of Adael. Bad tidings travel quickly,
and so it chanced that the intelligence of this disaster reached
Khartoom before my letters; the details were related very
indistinctly, and my friends were for a while under some apprehension
about my fate.

In another respect a star of ill-luck seemed this year to have risen
over the enterprise of the company of Ghattas. The season had drawn
near in which the agents usually commenced their annual depredations
in the districts of the Dinka to replenish their stock of cattle. As
the various associations were entering upon mutual competition, in
order to prevent disagreements, there was laid down a kind of Seriba
law, which was pretty well the same everywhere. First of all, the
territories immediately dependent were distinctly designated. Then it
provided that the approaches to a meshera should only be used by those
who could establish a claim to it. Nearly every Seriba has its
separate avenues, upon which it levies a toll, and an avenue without
tolls is not a legitimate highway at all. If any extraordinary
companies desire to make use of these roads, they must first come to
terms with the Seriba agents, who have the supervision of the right of
way. Even chieftains who supply provisions to those who are on their
transit, would be sure to attack them as foes if they were not first
conciliated by being appointed as guides and dragomen.

Very similar was the arrangement that regulated all the expeditions
which were undertaken against the Niam-niam. Each separate company had
its own route and its own train of captains, who purchased the ivory
and procured a market. No new-comers were allowed to intrude
themselves into an established market, or to infringe upon its trade.
Fresh marts could only be established by pressing farther onwards into
the interior. These new establishments in their turn were subject to
monopoly, and were rigidly protected. Whereever any violation of this
rule occurred, there would be very serious conflicts—so much so, that
amongst the Nubians the affray was very often fatal. This, however,
would only happen while the contest was limited between one negro and
another, for true Nubians at once renounce all allegiance to a leader
who presumed to shoot a brother Nubian.

The Khartoom companies are most jealous of all their rights of
cattle-plunder, alike in this region and in every other. The district
over which the incursions of Ghattas ranged embraced the whole of the
lower course of the river Tondy. During the previous year it was said
that the total of the booty was no less than 800 oxen; but this year,
although the aggressions were thrice renewed, the result was
altogether a failure, and was quite a derision amongst the neighbours,
being barely forty head of cattle. In vain had they explored the
country west of the Tondy; to no purpose had they scoured the
territories alike of the Rek and of the Lao; everywhere they were just
too late. The Dinka had got intelligence betimes, and off they packed
their herds and families to the inaccessible marshes. Their mere
superiority in numbers here gave them the advantage, and they could
hold their own against considerable troops of armed marauders. The
whole Dinka tribe amongst them could hardly boast a single musket
which could go off properly. Other companies, which had been more
fortunate in plunder, were now ready to avail themselves of the
opportunity to dispose of their superfluous cattle in barter for what
the country afforded. Sometimes it might be for slaves, or for
copper-rings, or sometimes (and this was a very favourite method) for
bills of exchange upon Khartoom. Thus those who lived upon robbery
were glad mutually to make a market of each other.

[Sidenote: CATTLE-RAIDS ON THE DINKA.]

The mode of carrying out these raids may be thus exemplified: On the
last occasion 140 armed troops, accompanied by a recognised train of
some hundred natives, followed again by a lot of people with a keen
scent for cattle of any sort, had set out upon their enterprise. In
this cavalcade they had proceeded exactly as though their intention
was merely to reach some Seriba or other. Then, all of a sudden, when
they saw that the chances were in their favour, just at nightfall
(deviating to one side, or even retracing their steps), they marched
on till, generally at break of day, they arrived at the devoted murah.
Having surrounded it, they began to beat their gongs and to fire away
vigorously. They were so alarmed at the likelihood of hitting each
other in the legs (for that is the general result of their firing)
that they merely discharged a lot of blank cartridges into the air.
This, however, was quite sufficient to intimidate the natives, who
lost no time in making their escape through the gaps which the
invading party were careful to provide in their ranks. In a general
way the Dinka have no larger number of servants with them at their
cattle-farms than is absolutely necessary, and, as I have mentioned,
they leave their wives and children in outlying huts, so that these
are very rarely exposed to the rapine of the invaders.

By the help of the negroes which they bring with them, the invaders
soon make themselves masters of all the herds, and hurry back covered
by the protection of the soldiers. To supply the requirements of a
year it is necessary that they should secure by their raid at least
2000 head of oxen. Of the plundered property two-thirds belong to the
authorities, the remaining third being assigned to the soldiers, who
hawk it about and dispose of it as they please. A portion, however, is
first allotted to the leaders of the negroes, to the overseers of the
districts, and to the chiefs, which is ever an excuse for great
rejoicing. The scandalous accomplices, abettors, and receivers of this
odious commerce are those professed slave-traders, the Gellahba, who
have succeeded in finding snug quarters for themselves in every
Seriba, where they manage, like idle drones, to enjoy the produce of
the toil of the industrious. Their transactions extend to calicoes,
soaps, and head-gear; they deal in firelocks, looking-glasses, and
onions; they can sell a few slaves, old or young, male or female; they
find a market for rings and beads; they do something in amulets and
verses of the Koran; very often they have on hand some bullocks,
sheep, or goats; indeed there is hardly anything which chance does not
occasionally throw into their line of business. Thus it came to pass
that this year they carried on a thriving cattle-trade in our
settlement. From the other marauding companies, whose luck had been
better, they had acquired a considerable store of cattle, and they did
not miss the opportunity of turning it now to their own advantage.

When I consider the ravages that are made year after year on so large
a scale upon the cattle of the Dinka, and the enormous consumption of
the Nubians, I confess that it is quite an enigma to me how the supply
is not exhausted. Although I am aware that they never kill their
cattle, yet the murrain of flies every season decimates their herds;
and, besides this, their cows very seldom ever calve more than once,
and very frequently remain utterly barren. Observations of this kind
somewhat assist us in forming an estimate of the vast numbers of the
people, since for the mere oversight and custody of the myriads of
cattle there must be multitudes of men corresponding to the
hand-to-mouth population of our civilised communities.

[Sidenote: EXCURSION TO SUBSIDIARY SERIBAS.]

From the 21st of July until the 4th of August I made a tour, which
gave me an opportunity of inspecting the subsidiary Seribas of
Ghattas. My acquaintance with the country was thus materially
enlarged. A march of about four leagues towards the south-west brought
me again, by a road which I had not hitherto traversed, to Geer, where
the fields of sesame were already in bloom. The sesame in this
district all had white blossoms, while in the Nile country it as
uniformly blooms with a pale rose-coloured flower, and this is by no
means an uncommon feature in the flora of the region. I could exhibit
a long list of plants which elsewhere are either red or blue, but here
are invariably white; but I could not offer any satisfactory
explanation of the circumstance.

Like all my other wanderings in the interior, this little excursion
was made entirely on foot. To get along through the tall grass was
anything but easy. The negroes tread down a sort of gutter, the width
of their foot, and along these we made our way, as in a wheel-rut, as
best we could. It was quite necessary to keep one’s steps verging
inwards. Occasionally these gutters change their character and become
water-courses, by means of which the adjacent steppes are drained. But
the enjoyment of a luxuriant nature, with its perpetual change of
scene, and the charms of novelty which presented themselves in the
foliage, compensated richly for a little toil; and day by day practice
made the trouble lighter.

This tour contributed in various ways to my stock of information. In
Geer I met with the clerk from the Seriba destroyed by the Agar, who
related to me the adventures which the sufferers had endured upon
their flight. With a Faki from Darfoor, who had formerly visited Bornu
and the Western Soudan, I had a long geographical dispute as to
whether the great river of the Monbuttoo emptied itself into the Tsad,
or flowed direct into the sea. The foreigner argued justly for the
Shary, whilst I, on the other hand, was referring to the Benwe. I
succeeded in stirring him and all the other interested listeners to a
state of considerable amazement at my acquaintance with localities of
which they had no knowledge except by report and which they hardly
knew even by name. I told them about the whole series of states right
away from Darfoor to the ocean. For about the hundredth time I had
again to answer the inquiry why Europeans want so much ivory. The
curiosity on their part is quite intelligible, as ivory is the unseen
incentive which keeps alive the system of plunder practised by the
Nubians, and I endeavoured to make them comprehend something about the
handles of knives and sticks and parasols, the pianoforte keys, the
billiard-balls, and the variety of other uses to which the material is
applied.

From Geer, with its questions of geography, history, and political
economy, I proceeded another league and a half, and came to Addai,
where the whole armed force was employing itself most peaceably in the
art of tailoring. In nearly all Mohammedan countries needlework is the
business of the men. A short league brought me to Koolongo, past which
there flows a copious stream, bordered by thick jungles 01
impenetrable bamboos, and which, not far from Addai, flows into the
Tondy. The stream is singularly abundant in fish, and the Bongo were
busy in securing their chief haul. They proceed very much in the
European way of damming up the stream by weirs, and laying down
wicker-pots of considerable size. The fishing, for the most part, is
done twice in the year; first, at the commencement of the rainy
season, and again when the waters begin to subside.

[Illustration: The Kilnoky.]

[Sidenote: KILNOKY AND GURR.]

A large proportion of the fish captured in this stream is nearly the
same as what is found in the Lower Nile and in Egypt; but some sorts
are found which are peculiar; amongst which the fish-salamander
(_Lepidosiren_) and some Siluridæ may be mentioned as representatives
of the tropics in Africa. There is one kind of these called Kilnoky by
the Bongo, and which is rather interesting. It reminds one of the
species of the Auchenipterus or Synodontis, which are distinguished by
their forked tail-fins. Another of the most frequent fish is that
known as the “Besher” of the Nile, here called “Gurr” by the
natives.[24] The elegant, large-scaled _Heterotis niloticus_, which
the Bongo style the “Goggoh,” has a tender flesh and is of a good
flavour. The river does not generally abound with fish which are
desirable for food, but those which can be eaten generally belong to
the section of the Characini; for example, the _Hydrocyon Forskalii_,
which is here called “Kyalo.” This is a grey-streaked fish, glittering
like pearl, in shape not unlike a salmon; it has red fins and a
regular dog’s head, of which the lanky jaws, armed with conical teeth,
amply justify the systematic name. Related to this is the “Raha”
(_Ichtyborus microlepis_), which is noteworthy for its pike’s head,
and the small-scaled _Distichodus rostratus_, or “Heeloo,” as it is
termed. There is another sort which the Bongo call “Tonga.” Besides
these there are the “Kalo” (_Alestis_) and the “Dologoh”
(_Citharinus_). Of the perch, which plays so prominent a part in these
waters, the silver-grey _Lates niloticus_, known as “Golo,” is very
abundant, and perhaps still more so the “Warr” (_Chromis_), about the
length of a finger, and of which there are several descriptions. The
“Warr,” when first caught, is of a dark-green tint crossed obliquely
by a number of broad dark stripes. The most common, however, of all
the fish, and which seems never to fail in any of the marshes left by
the retreating floods, are the sheath-fish, which belong to the
Clarias species, the white flesh of which has a detestable flavour of
the swamps; and the “Geegongoh,” which while they are alive are so
like in colour to the brown slime in which they roll that they cannot
be distinguished from it. A rare sort of the smaller fish is that
known as the “Banghey,” and which belongs to the species of the
Schilbe. Interesting, as being a representative in Africa of an Indian
species, is the speckled grey and brown _Ophiocephalus obscurus_. It
only remains to mention among the lesser sorts “Ndeer” (_Ctenopoma
Petherickii_), the “Labyrinthi” of the Marango (_Labeo Forskalii_),
and the “Möll” (_Mormyrus cyprinoides_).

[Illustration: Young Polypterus.]

There are two methods which the Bongo employ to preserve the flesh of
their fish. Table salt they cannot get, but they substitute what they
obtain from ashes. They cut the fish through lengthways, simply expose
it to be dried in the sun, and afterwards hang it up to be fumigated
in the clouds of smoke which fill their huts. Another way is to cut
the fish up and dry it, and then to pound it all up in mortars until
it is reduced to a jelly, which is rolled into balls about the size of
the fist. These, with their high flavour, form a favourite ingredient
in soups and sauces, which are entirely wanting in all other aromatic
condiments.

[Sidenote: HAUNTED CAVE AT KOOLONGO.]

In Kulongo so many ridiculous tales were dressed up for me about the
wonders of the subterranean world, and of the abodes of evil spirits
in the neighbouring caves, that I glowed with the desire to make their
acquaintance. No one that I could find in the Seriba had ever ventured
to visit the dreaded grottoes, and the alarm of the Governor was a
great joke; after he had talked away for an hour, and declared he
would accompany me, he ended by offering a handsome “backsheesh” to
one of his subordinates to take his place; but his offer to go had
been publicly made, and, as matter of honour, he was bound to attend
me. We had to cross a stream ten feet in depth, and as, on account of
an injury to his foot, he was riding an ass, the timid fellow found
just the pretext he wanted to excuse his return; he could not allow
his invaluable donkey to get a chill. In a party of eight, including
myself, we set out towards the house of terror: three of my own
servants, two of the _soi-disant_ soldiers, and two of the natives who
acted as guides. This company however, could not help considering
themselves inadequate to face the peril, and as we approached the
caves some extra negroes from the adjacent fields were pressed into
the service.

Uphill for a while was our way from Kulongo, and on accomplishing the
ascent we had before us a wide plain, and about a league away we could
discern the spot, shrouded in a thick coppice, which was the object of
our march. Reaching the entrance to the cavern, we found it blocked up
through a considerable fall of earth, which apparently had been caused
by the washing away of the surface soil by springs bubbling up from
beneath; and the outside was so choked up by masses of underwood, that
no one could suspect that there was a grotto in the rear.

When, fourteen or fifteen years previously, the first intruders made
their way into this district, the story goes that hundreds of the
natives, with their wives and children and all their goods and
chattels, betook themselves to this inaccessible retreat; and that
having died of starvation, their evil spirits survive and render their
place of refuge a place of danger. Just as we had contrived to push a
little way into the thicket, an idea struck one of my servants that he
could be as cunning as his master. Finding that I persevered in my
intention, he bethought himself of the bees on the White Nile, and so
there rose the shout of “Bees, bees!” from more than one of the party.
But they got some stings they hardly looked for: one good box on the
ear, followed up by another and another, made their cheeks tingle
again, and they were fain to proceed. I can still laugh as I picture
to myself those nigger rascals resigning themselves to enter the
shrubs, and I see them heaving a sigh, and looking as if they were
ready to send their lances through the first devil they should happen
to meet. I followed them on through the hazardous pathway, the
darkness growing ever deeper. Stumbling on, we made our way over
blocks of stone, descending for more than a hundred feet till we
reached the entrance of the cave, which, after a low kind of porchway
through the rifled rocks, arches itself into a spacious grotto,
capable of sheltering some thousand men.

[Sidenote: INVOKING THE SPIRITS.]

In place of any heart-rending shrieks of wicked ghosts, there was
nothing more to alarm us than the whizzing of countless bats
(_Phyllorhina caffra_), and thus at once the whole veil of romance was
torn asunder. We reclined for a time in the cool shade, and then I
invited the whole party to take part in a scene of conjuration, for
which they were quite prepared. With the full strength of my voice I
cried, “Samiel, Samiel, Afreed!” invoking the spirits of evil to put
in an appearance; thus all pretext of fear from that quarter was put
to rest; and now belief in ghosts took another shape, and the men
pretended that they were terrified, because the cave was a
lurking-place of lions; but as a fine brown dust covered the floor of
the grotto, leaving it as smooth as though it had just been raked
over, I asked them to show me some traces of the lions. They could
detect nothing, however, but the vestiges of some porcupines, of which
a few quills made it clear that other creatures besides ghosts and
bats made the cave their home. That brown dust was a vast mass of
guano that had gradually accumulated; I brought away a sack of it with
me, and it worked wonders in making my garden productive, resulting in
some cabbages of giant growth.

The rocky walls of the cave, dripping as they were with moisture, were
covered with thick clusters of moss, which took the most variegated
forms, and were quite a surprise in this region of Central Africa,
where mosses are very scarce. A regular network of foliage, with long
creepers and thorny brambles, filled up the entire glen upon which the
grotto opened, so that no ray of sunlight could ever penetrate.

The Bongo give the name of “Gubbehee” (or the subterranean) to this
cavern. I tried to creep into some of the crevices, but was soon
obliged to desist, sometimes because the fissures were too narrow, and
sometimes because the multitudes of bats came flying out in my face,
and sometimes because the reeking ammonia choked me, and made further
progress impossible. By some shots, however, which I discharged, I
convinced myself of the magnitude of these rifts, which, within a few
inches, were full of guano.

Full of spirits, we retraced our steps to the Seriba, and had some
sport with the Governor about his pretence of the susceptibility of
his donkey. When I asked him to accept a bet of 100 dollars that he
would pass a night by himself in the cave, he was quite as bumptious
as on the day before; but I moderated his enthusiasm by suggesting
that his donkey, perhaps, was worth more than the 100 dollars, and
that I was sure that the donkey could not stand the damp. The result
was, that he declined the engagement, and cried off the wager.

These details will answer the purpose of showing what kind of heroes
these cattle-stealers and men-hunters are. To them most literally
applies Dante’s verse, when he speaks of the saucy herds who, “behind
the fugitives swell with rage, but let these show their teeth, or even
stretch out their purse, and at once they are gentle as a lamb.”
Against the poor faint-hearted negroes they were valiant and full of
pluck; but all their courage vanished into nothing when they came in
contact with the Shillooks and Bari.

In Kulongo were wide plains covered with earth-nuts, which attract
multitudes of the jackals of the country, which scratch up the nuts,
and crack them with their teeth. The jackal (the “bashohm” of the
Nubians, _Canis variegatus_) is one of the most common animals in
Bongo-land. It is about the size of an ordinary fox, in colour being
like a wolf, with black back and tail. They are pretty sure to be seen
in the early morning, squatting comfortably down, and composedly
enjoying the nuts. I knocked over several of them with heavy shot, and
took care of their skins, which gave me some beautiful fur. The
bashohm is very destructive among the poultry of the villages, doing
even more mischief than the wild cat, which does not care to venture
so near the huts.

[Sidenote: ANOTHER DESERTED SERIBA.]

From Kulongo I returned to Geer, from which it is distant about as far
as from Addai. Half a league on the way we came to a spot where a
deserted Seriba of Ghattas’s exhibited its desolate remains. The sight
here was very striking; after penetrating the tall masses of grass, we
found some self-sown sorghum, the stalks of which reached the
astonishing length of 20 feet, being beyond question the tallest
cereal in the world. The extraordinary growth was probably to be
attributed to the manuring substances which, year after year, collect
upon and fertilise the soil. The palisades of the old Seriba were
still partially standing, and were hardly higher than the surrounding
grass, and the ruins were overgrown with wild gourds, calabashes, and
cucumbers. The bare frameworks of the conical roofs had fallen to the
ground, and lay like huge crinolines: they served as supports to the
growing pumpkins, and formed in this condition a thick shady bower.

The extensive wilderness derived a weird aspect from the strange
stillness that pervaded the deserted dwellings. There was not a song
from a bird, there was hardly the humming of an insect; it seemed as
if Nature were revelling in her undisputed sway, or as if the curse of
a prophet had been wreaked upon the abodes of violence and of plunder.

By the end of July all the bamboos were in full blossom. The grains
are not unlike rye, and are edible, and, in times of dearth, have been
known to form a substitute for the exhausted corn. When the fruit is
mature, the long, ramified panicles have a very remarkable appearance,
and the ears, clustered together at their base, radiate like an
ancient whirlbat. Very rarely, however, does the African bamboo bloom,
so that it is not often that it supplies the place of ordinary corn.

At an equal distance of about a league and a half from Kulongo and
from Geer lies the village of Gurfala. The way thither led through
perpetual marshes and was so interrupted by deep masses of mud that I
had repeatedly to change my clothes. When the naked skin is exposed to
the filth of the bogs, it is not only annoyed by a number of insects,
some of them harmless enough, many of them most disgusting, but it is
terribly cut by the sharp edges of the grass. This not merely causes
considerable pain, but the wounds inflicted in this way are often very
troublesome and slow to heal; they not unfrequently result among the
Nubians in serious sores, and have been known to entail the loss of a
foot. At every Seriba there will be found some who are suffering from
this cause, and Baker observed the recurrence of the same evil amongst
his people. As the same consequences do not occur in Nubia itself they
are probably to be attributed to the effect of the climate. The backs
of the negroes are not available for transport over any long distances
of this fenny land, because of the insecurity of the footing; and in
another respect this mode of conveyance offers little attraction; to
mount one of the negroes is almost as disastrous to one’s white summer
garments as an actual tumble into the marsh. Soap is not a common
article hereabout, and must be used economically, and the traveller
has to put up with a general wash about once in two months.

All the minor Seribas are really established for the purpose of
overlooking the Bongo, and the sub-agents are always in trepidation
lest there should be a sudden disappearance of all their negroes. It
has not unfrequently happened that whole communities of the Bongo,
quite unawares, have taken up their baggage, started off from their
state of subjection, and, escaping the hands of their masters, have
established themselves amongst the neighbouring Dinka. If they wish to
cultivate corn for themselves, who could venture to blame them?

[Sidenote: AFRICAN DISTILLERY.]

The Bongo name for Gurfala is Ngulfala, which indicates an earlier
tribe of this race, which is no longer separated into various clans.
Gurfala, I found, had its amusing associations. As in Kulongo it was
the fear of ghosts for which the people had been conspicuous, so here
it was the effect of a great brandy-distillery upon the inhabitants
that entertained me. This distillery was kept by an old Egyptian, one
of the few of his race who resided in the district of the Seribas. Out
of an “ardeb,” or about five bushels of sorghum, he managed, with his
rude apparatus, to extract about thirty bottles of watery alcohol. The
sallow old Egyptian, whom the enjoyment of his vile liquors had tanned
till his skin was as dry as parchment, was, as it were, director of a
joint-stock company, of which the sub-agents and the soldiers in the
Seriba were the shareholders, contributing their quota of corn to the
concern. The apparatus for distilling consisted of a series of covered
clay retorts, connected by tubes made of bamboo; the establishment for
working was made up of a party of fat-bellied, swarthy women slaves,
who had to pound away at the grain in a mortar; and as often as they
paused for a moment to recover their breath, after their grinding
exertions, they invariably panted till they reminded one of exhausted
Cybeles. The chief material used was sorghum; the produce was a vile
spirit. All the Nubians who settle here would abandon themselves very
much to the use of brandy, if it could be more readily procured and if
a continual superabundance were at their disposal; their fanaticism,
however, is irreproachable; they rigorously follow the prescription of
their law, and most scrupulously observe the Fast of Ramadan.

Together with the fresh relays arrived rows of spirit-flasks in their
original packing (mostly made at Breslau), which are stored away in
the magazines. These find their way from Alexandria and Khartoom to
this remote corner of traffic. The agents drink their spirits neat,
and cannot get it strong enough to please them; everybody else dilutes
it with two-thirds water or mixes it with his merissa. In their
drinking-bouts they used to besiege me with applications for some of
the sharp radishes from my garden, which on these occasions they
seemed especially to relish. What was most revolting to me about their
intoxication was that they always preferred the early hours of the
morning for their indulgence, and for the rest of the day became
incapable of standing upright. After they were tipsy they were just as
pugnacious as Europeans, but the excitability of the South would break
out, so that manslaughter and death were not of unfrequent occurrence.

After a couple of days I took my departure from the huts of Gurfala,
where a number of the Gellahba also have settled themselves, and I
made my way over a short two leagues towards the west to Doomookoo,
the fifth of the Ghattas Seribas. The route was over a firm soil,
alternately bushwood and open steppe. The grass on the rocky level
seemed to have a permanent character. All of one kind, and covering
large tracts of country, it reminded me of the waving ears of our own
cornfields. Although the region seems to be destitute of any
continuance of trees, it far surpasses the European plains and meadow
lands in the variety of its permanent grasses.

About half-way there was a pond made by rain on the rocky ground,
which was covered with the large red-headed geese of the Gambia and a
number of widow-buntings. Only during the rainy season do these birds
quit the waters of the great Nile and find their way to the interior.

[Sidenote: MUNDO.]

At Doomookoo I found the negroes all astir; an equipment was being
made for an expedition to Gebel Higgoo, and, with the co-operation of
Aboo Guroon, was to consist of a hundred armed men. Mukhtar, the
captain of the troop, repeatedly assured me that he could reach his
destination in about five days, and I was much disposed to accompany
him. But there was in my way this obstacle, that I was obliged to get
my correspondence off-hand; I had to write my letters for a whole
year. The mountains Higgoo and Shetatah have been so denominated for
some cause by the Nubians; Higgoo signifying a bandbox, and Shetatah
being their name for cayenne pepper. They lie in a southerly direction
from where we were, only a few leagues distant from that Mundo which
is so often mentioned by Petherick; a spot which on every map is
notoriously always pushed either backwards or forwards for several
degrees, and originally, by those who professed to have visited it,
was said to be situated on the Equator. The fact is, that Mundo is the
name ordinarily given by the Bongo to a small tribe calling itself
Babuckur, which has contrived to wedge in its position between the
borders of the Bongo and the Niam-niam. On the eastern limit the Bongo
denote the Niam-niam themselves by this name of Mundo. To the isolated
hills of this border-land, such of the Bongo as could maintain their
independence made good their retreat, and only in consequence of the
contemplated expedition of the Khartoomers were they laid under
tribute. During the present year the trading companies had established
a number of settlements here amongst them, these advanced colonies
being necessary for the security of the highways for traffic into the
Niam-niam territory. Hitherto all the avenues for transit had been
found liable to attack from the uncontrolled Bongo and from the
Babuckur; but now the entire region was sequestered, and made a kind
of preserve, on which the two companies could meet and monopolise
their slave-plunder.

In one of the more extended low-lying steppes, overgrown with its mass
of vegetation, I lost a whole day in vain endeavours to secure an
antelope of that large breed which is found here, but which seems to
elude all pursuit, in the course of the chase learning to discriminate
a considerable number of species. Fate was here unpropitious. Manœuvre
as I would, I could not sneak up close enough to get a shot. More than
once I saw large herds of Leucotis, grazing apparently in entire
repose; but every movement of mine was so dependent upon the formation
of the ground, and every disturbance of the tall grass resulted in
such a crackling, that to meditate a surprise was out of the question.
If ever I flattered myself that I was gaining some advantage, and was
getting close to the herd under cover of a detached bush, I was sure
to be betrayed by the keen vision and disquietude of some stray beast
that was hanging on the flank. Still greater were the obstacles that
occurred if pursuit were tried in the drier tracts by the border of
the lowlands. Here were seen whole troops of the Aboo Maaref (_A.
nigra_), like great goats, with their sharp horns and their flowing
manes, proudly strutting on the plain; but, times without number, on
the first alarm they bounded off. No avail that their black wrinkled
horns were right before us, rising and sinking in the grass, offering
a mark indeed somewhat indefinite; no good that we crept on, three at
a time, one taking the wilderness, another the thicket, and the third,
step by step, getting through the marshy hollows—everything was
ineffectual: just as we thought we were getting an advantage, either
some one would fall into a hole, or would shake a bough that hung over
his head, or would disturb the crackling stalks in the bushes, and all
hope was gone; the signal of danger was circulated, and the herd were
out of reach. These details will furnish an idea of the endless
artifices by means of which the chase in the rainy seasons has to be
practised to insure success. Wet through, and with clothes saturated
with the mire of the marshes, extremely weary, and having only
succeeded in sending one poor Aboo Maaref hopping on three legs after
its companions, we returned at the close of our day of unsuccessful
exploit.

The return to my headquarters from Doomookoo was a journey of about
four and a half leagues. I found the way entertaining enough. Elevated
dry flats of rocks came in turns with inundated lowlands; and after
passing through pleasant woodlands the road would wind through open
steppes. Game was everywhere most abundant. It was only necessary to
withdraw for an hour from a settlement to get an impression that the
whole of the animal creation had ceased to give itself any concern
about the proceedings of man. Not one of the soldiers, whose lives are
lavished by their employers in a hundred useless ways, finds the least
enjoyment in the noble pleasures of the chase. They all shirk the
trouble, and, even if they could get up the necessary perseverance,
they are such bad shots that they could hardly recompense themselves
for their exertion. Besides this they prefer the very rankest of their
goats’ flesh to the choicest venison; partly it may be from the
general uniformity of their diet, or partly perhaps from their
religious aversion to eat of meat slaughtered in a manner that is not
prescribed in their law; certainly it is very rare for them, in their
wanderings, to partake of any game which they have captured.

[Sidenote: THE HEGOLEH AND THE DELOO.]

There are two little antelopes which are here very common, and which
roam about the country in pairs. One of these is the Hegoleh (_A.
madoqua_) which appears to be found right through from Abyssinia to
the Gambia; the other is the Deloo (_A. grimmia_), which is known also
in the south. They are both pretty and lively bright-eyed creatures,
of which the entire length is but little over three feet; they
correspond very nearly to a small roe, or the fawn of a fallow deer.

The Hegoleh is all of one colour—a light tawny with a greyish throat,
not so foxy as the Leucotis. The Deloo is of a fawn colour on its
back, with a tinge of yellow in front; its flanks are nearly white,
whilst its ankles are black. Its head is very expressive; a black
stripe runs along it and terminates in a dark brown tuft; this gives
to the female, which has no horns, rather a comical look, running up
as it does into a stiff peak of about five inches long: in the males
this growth is concealed by the short horns. Both kinds are
distinguished by the glands of the lacrymal ducts.[25] The Madoqua has
two pair of these, one pair set under the roots of the ear, making a
triangle of an area of half a square inch; the other pair in the
tear-pits composing a sort of pouch, about an inch long, which
consists of a deep fold of skin, and from which is discharged a
viscous and colourless matter. Above the tear-glands, towards the
nasal bone, there projects on each side from the frontlet a thick pad
about three inches long, which seems to have an adenoid texture,
almost like a tumour. In the same way as with the Cervicapra, these
tear-glands during any excitement open themselves like the nostrils of
a snorting horse. The Deloo has only one pair of these glands, which
lie horizontally in a narrow streak across the hollow of the eyes.
Both kinds are alike in never venturing into the low grounds exposed
to floods, and in preferring the rocky lands which are covered with
bushwood. They often get into the middle of a thicket, and startle the
huntsman by suddenly springing out, in the same way as the Ben-Israel
or Om-digdig of Abyssinia (_A. Hemprichiana_). The flesh of both these
antelopes is very indifferent for eating as compared with the larger
kinds; that of the Deloo when roasted having a singular acrid flavour,
which seems to suggest the unpleasantness of the glands.

[Illustration: The Madoqua.]

[Sidenote: CULTIVATION OF SORGHUM.]

Towards the end of August the sorghum-harvest commenced with the
pulling of the light crop of the four-monthly sort, which had been
sown in the latter part of April. But the general ingathering of the
heavier varieties, which contribute chiefly to the supply of corn, did
not take place until the beginning of December, after the rainy season
was over. In Sennaar and Taka, sorghum requires five or six months to
come to maturity, but in this district it rarely takes less than eight
months. Both the early and late sorts commonly attain a height of
nearly fifteen feet; the stalks of the former remain quite green, but
the reedy stems of the latter become so strong and woody, that they
are used for fences to divide one enclosure from another. Some of the
varieties are scarcely inferior to the regular sugar millet (_Sorghum
saccharatum_) in producing an abundance of saccharine matter; these
are known to the negroes as well as to the Arabians of the Soudan, who
chew the straw and so express the juice. The Bongo and the Dyoor
express the pulp by means of wooden mortars, and boil it till it has
the consistency of syrup. From this concoction I was able to procure a
spirit which was far more palatable than what I should have obtained
by distilling the sorghum itself.

[Illustration: The Deloo.]

Both varieties of the common sorghum,[26] which here abound in all
their minor differences of colour, shape, and size of grain, yield
well-nigh a dozen different descriptions for the market at Khartoom.
The standard value is fixed by the Fatareetah, a pure white
thin-skinned grain, which also is grown by the negroes in the Seriba.

All negro races that depend upon agriculture for their subsistence
consider the cultivation of sorghum most important. Of the people
among which I travelled, the Bongo, the Dyoor, and the Mittoo, were
examples of this. On the other hand, among the southern Niam-niam and
the Monbuttoo this cereal is quite unknown.

[Sidenote: LIMITATION OF GRAIN PRODUCE.]

I could not help being astonished at the length of time which most of
the kinds take to ripen. In some fields a portion of the stubble is
left intentionally ungrubbed until the next season; this will die
down, but, after the first rain, it sprouts again from the root, and
so a second gathering is made from the same stem. No loosening of the
soil is ever made, and this perhaps accounts in a degree for the
tardiness of the growth. With the small spades, of which I have
already spoken, shallow holes are sunk in the ground at intervals of
about a yard: into these is dropped the corn, which then is trodden
down by the foot. It is only during the first few months that any
labour at all is given to the fields, just to remove from the surface
of the soil the multitudes of weeds which will spring up. These weeds
are gathered into heaps, and form the only manure which is employed in
this lavish laboratory of nature. Never more than once is this weeding
repeated; it is done by the women and children; and the corn is then
left entirely to take its chance until it is time to gather it. On
account alike of its tall growth and of its luxuriant habit, the men
are careful not to plant it too thickly. The country does not offer
many materials for manuring the land; if, therefore, greater
application of labour or of skill should succeed in doubling the yield
of every stem, there would ultimately be no gain. The soil, which
already in many places fails after the second year, would only be
exhausted so much the sooner. Such being the case, every project of
ameliorating the condition of this people by enlarging their crop is
quite an illusion; the land could not sustain a larger number than
that which already resides upon it.

In my garden I made several attempts to sow wheat, but without much
success. Probably I should have prospered better if I could have
obtained some European seed: mine was from Khartoom, and it is very
likely that the conditions under which it had been grown, amidst the
flooded fields of the Nile Valley, on a soil far more soddened than
that of this district, had been very injurious to the grain.

Very unwisely, not one of the Seriba governors has ever made an
attempt to introduce into the district the culture of rice, for which
the low marshy fields, otherwise useless, seem, very admirably
adapted; but the people are not to be taught; vain the endeavour to
initiate them even into a rational system of burning charcoal; and as
to the culture of rice, nothing throughout the whole of Nubia was
known about it. On the contrary, the expeditions which have set out
from Zanzibar, and which have explored districts where the climate is
not dissimilar to that of which we speak, have introduced the
cultivation of rice over a very considerable area. The finger of
nature itself seems to point out the propriety of not neglecting this
product; in the whole district south of the Gazelle the wild rice of
Senegal grows quite freely, and this I always found of a better
quality than the best kinds of Damietta. During the rains the wild
rice (_Oryza punctata_) environs many a pool with its garland of
reddish ears, and seems to thrive exceedingly, but it never occurs to
the sluggish natives to gather the produce that is lost in the water;
and it is only because the Baggara and some of the inhabitants of
Darfoor had saved some quantity, that I contrived to get my small
supply.

There yet remain three kinds of corn to which a passing reference
should be made in order to complete a general survey of the
agriculture of this district.

Next to the sorghum stands the penicillaria, or Arabian “dokhn,” to
which much attention is devoted, and which is cultivated here much
more freely than in the northern Soudan. Sown somewhat later than the
sorghum, somewhat later it comes to maturity.

A second substitute on the land for sorghum is a meagre grain, the
_Eleusine coracana_. By the Arabians it is called telaboon, and by the
Abyssinians tocusso; it is only grown on the poorest soils and where
the ground is too wet to admit of any better crop. The grain of this
is very small and generally black, and is protected by a hard thick
skin; it has a disagreeable taste, and makes only a wretched sort of
pap. It yields a yeast that is more fit for brewing than for baking;
in fact, not only do the Niam-niam, who are the principal growers of
the Eleusine, but the Abyssinians as well, make a regular beer by
means of it.

Midway between the sorghum and the penicillaria must be reckoned the
maize of the country, which only grows in moderate quantity, and is
here generally cultivated as a garden vegetable in the immediate
proximity of the huts. The Madi tribe of the Mittoo are the only
people who seem to cultivate it to any great extent.

[Sidenote: AFRICAN WHEATS.]

There is one quality which pertains equally to all these varieties of
grain which are grown in these torrid regions; it is not possible from
the flour which they provide to make bread in the way to which we are
accustomed. All that can be made from the fermented dough is the
Arabian bread, “kissere,” as it is called—tough, leathery slices,
cooked like pancakes on a frying-pan. If the fermentation has gone on
far enough to make the dough rise for a good spongy loaf, when it is
put into the oven it all crumples up, and its particles will not hold
together; if, on the other hand, the fermentation has not proceeded
sufficiently, the result is a heavy lump, and this is the ordinary
daily achievement of the natives, who pack up their dough in leaves
and bake it in the ashes. The wheats of the Upper Nile Valley, and
even large Abyssinian kinds, have the same property, which may arise
from the small proportion of _soluble_ starch which exists in all corn
of the tropics, however large the entire quantity of the starch may
be. The presence or absence of gluten in the grain is irrelevant, and
cannot be an adequate explanation with regard to sorghum, of which the
better kinds are richer in gluten than our wheat.

Next, after the various sorts of corn, the leguminous plants play an
important part amongst this agricultural population. Cultivated
frequently alike by the Dinka and Dyoor is the catyang (_Vigna
sinensis_), which is grown by the Shillooks more plentifully than by
either; but the Bongo have a great preference for the mungo-bean
(_Phaseolus mungo_), which they call “bokwa.” The pods of these
contain a little hard kernel, not unlike black pepper; in comparison
with the catyang they are very poor eating. Wild representatives of
both these classes of beans are almost universal throughout Africa,
and demonstrate that they are indigenous to the soil. The best of all
the beans is the _Phaseolus lunatus_, which is found of various
colours, white, or brown, or yellow, and which in shape is like our
own, although the legume is very short, and rarely contains more than
two seeds. This is grown very freely by the Mittoo and the Madi, but
the Bongo and the Dinka also give it their attention.

There are two kinds of these leguminous plants which are cultivated
very extensively, and which fructify below the soil, that is, as the
pods ripen the peduncles bend down and sink beneath the ground. These
are the speckled pea-shaped voandzeia and the arachis, or earth-nut.
Dispersed now everywhere over the tropics, the proper home of these is
in Africa. The first is cultivated most of all by the Bongo; the
single seed which its pod contains is mealy, but cooking does not
soften it, and it is consequently very indigestible.

The earth-nut, on the contrary, is of an oily nature. It is seldom
wanting amongst any of the tribes; in value it is almost a rival of
the sesame, to the culture of which the Bongo give their care next to
their sorghum.

Another oily vegetable product of the country is the _Hyptis
spicigera_, which the Bongo named “kendee.” Once sown among cultivated
plants it becomes a sort of half-wild growth, and establishes itself
as an important shrub between the stubble. The Bongo and Niam-niam
especially store large quantities of it. The tiny seeds, like those of
a poppy-head, are brayed to a jelly, and are used by the natives as an
adjunct to their stews and gravies, the taste and appearance being
very similar to the hemp-pap of the Lithuanians. Just as poppy and
hemp to the people of the North, so here to the natives the sesame and
the hyptis appear a natural product so enjoyable that, without any
preparation whatever, it can be oaten from the hollow of the hand,
according to Boccaccio’s expression, “more avium.”

[Sidenote: AFRICAN TUBERS.]

A very subordinate place is occupied in the cultural pursuits of these
people by any of the tuberous vegetables. Various kinds of yams
(_Dioscorea alata_, and _D._ or _Helmia bulbifera_) are found in the
enclosures of the Bongo and of the Dinka, and are here and there
cultivated in some measure like the maize, under the eye of the
proprietor. The Niam-niam and the Monbutto, who devote more attention
to the growth of tubers than of cereals, have a greater preference for
the sweet potato (_Batatas_), the manioc, and the colocasia, and other
bulbs, which to the northern people are quite unknown. All the yams in
these parts seem to exhibit the same form, which is reckoned the most
perfect in this production, lavished by bountiful Nature on man with
so little labour on his part. The tubers of the Central African
species are very long; at their lower extremity they have a number of
thick protuberances; they are similar to a human foot, or rather
(taking their size into account) to the great foot of an elephant.
Some were brought to me which varied in weight from 50 to 80 lbs. The
substance of the tuber, which is easily cooked, is light, mealy, and
somewhat granulated; it is more loose in texture than our tenderest
potatoes, and decidedly preferable to them in flavour.

[Illustration: Central African Yam.]

[Illustration: The Nyitti.]

The Nyitti (_Helmia bulbifera_), which are protruded from the axils of
every leaf on the climbing sprouts, are in shape like a great
Brazil-nut—a section of a sphere with a sharp edge. In their
properties they correspond much with our potato, particularly as
regards their taste and their bulk; but they never develop themselves
into such mealy masses as the ordinary yams. Their skin is remarkably
like potato-peel, and altogether their colour, sometimes yellow,
sometimes a thoroughly purple-brown, adds to the resemblance. Very
frequently these plants grow wild, but in that condition the tubers
are quite small, and have a taste so pungent that they are said by the
natives to be full of a dangerous poison. To a kindred species which
is found wild, and which produces a horn-shaped tuber, we shall have
to allude hereafter.

Just before the sorghum-harvest commenced the gourds were ripening,
and came on as a welcome boon to the natives, who at this season were
suffering from the usual scarcity. They devoured incredible quantities
of them, and I saw whole caravans of bearers literally fed upon them.
Of the ordinary gourds (_Cucurbita maxima_) there are two kinds, the
yellow and white, which succeed excellently and attain a prodigious
size. There is a kind of melon with a hard woody rind, which the Dyoor
and the Dinka cultivate: when half-ripe, they cook and enjoy it as a
palatable vegetable; it is generally of a cylindrical form, and about
a foot in length. As it grows it assumes the diverse shape of the
_Cucumis chate_, the cooking-cucumber of the Egyptians, which they
call “adyoor” and “abdalowy;” by its wild shapes it seems to reveal an
African origin. The leaves of the gourds are boiled just like
cabbages, and are used for a vegetable. The bottle-gourds do not grow
anywhere here actually without cultivation, but in a sort of
semi-cultivation they are found close to all the huts. From the edible
kinds are made vessels, which are quite secure.

[Sidenote: AFRICAN VEGETABLES.]

As actual vegetables the Bongo cultivate only the bamia or waka of the
Arabians (_Hibiscus esculentus_) and the sabdariffa. The calyx of the
latter is very large, varying in colour from a pale flesh to a dark
purple, and is used as a substitute for vinegar at meals. The bamia
here is a larger variety of the Oriental vegetable; its seed-vessels
before they are ripe are gathered and boiled.

Altogether unknown throughout the population of pagan negroes is the
onion, which appears to have its southern limit in Kordofan and
Darfoor. The equatorial climate seems to render its growth very
difficult, and do what the Nubians will, they are unable successfully
to introduce this serviceable vegetable into the districts of their
Seribas. The tomato may well be considered as a cosmopolite, making
itself at home in all warmer latitudes, but previously to my arrival
it had not found its way into this region.

[Illustration: Calyx of the Hibiscus esculentus.]

For the sake of its fibres the _Hibiscus cannabinus_ is very generally
cultivated here, as it is in the Nile Valley; but I observed that the
Bongo have another plant, the crotalaria, an improvement upon the wild
sort (_C. intermedia_), from which they make excellent string.

Compared with Africa in general, this district seemed very deficient
in the growth of those spices which serve as stimulants to give a
relish and variety to dishes at meals. Red cayenne pepper, for
instance, is swallowed by Abyssinians and Nubians in incredible
quantities in their soups, but the Bongo regard it as little better
than absolute poison. Although the first-comers found the indigenous
pimento growing in all the enclosures, yet the Bongo reckoned it as so
dangerous that they carefully kept it in guarded spots, so that their
children might not be victims to the deleterious effects of its bright
red berries. The natives had been accustomed to poison their arrows
with pimento, and I may mention this as one of the numerous proofs
which might be alleged that much of the arrow-poisoning of Africa is
quite a matter of imagination. When the natives witnessed the Nubians
come and gather up the suspected berries and throw them into their
food, their astonishment was unbounded; they came at once to the
conclusion that it was utterly useless to contend with a people that
could gulp down poison by the spoonful, and accordingly they submitted
unconditionally to the intruders.

Of all the plants which are cultivated by these wild people, none
raises a greater interest than tobacco, none exhibits a more curious
conformity of habit amongst peoples far remote. The same two kinds
which are cultivated amongst ourselves have become most generally
recognised. These kinds are the Virginian tobacco (_Nicotiana
tabacum_) and the common tobacco (_N. rustica_). It is little short of
a certainty that the Virginian tobacco has only made its way into the
Old World within the few centuries since the discovery of America. No
production more than this has trampled over every obstacle to its
propagation, so that it has been kept to no limits; and it must be
matter of surprise that even Africa (notorious as it has ever been for
excluding every sort of novelty in the way of cultivation) should have
allowed the Virginian tobacco to penetrate to its very centre.

[Sidenote: TOBACCO.]

It is a great indication of the foreign origin of this plant that
there is not a tribe from the Niger to the Nile which has a native
word of their own to denote it. Throughout all the districts over
which I travelled, the Niam-niam formed the solitary exception to this
by naming the Virginian tobacco “gundeh;” but the Monbuttoo, who grow
only this one kind and are as little familiar with _N. rustica_ as the
Niam-niam, call it “Eh-tobboo.” The rest of the people ring every kind
of change upon the root word, and call it “tab, tabba, tabdeet,” or
“tom.” The plant is remarkable here for only attaining a height of
about eighteen inches, for its leaves being nearly as long as one
could span, and for its blossoms being invariably white.

Quite an open question I think it is, whether the _N. rustica_ is of
American origin. Several of the tribes had their own names for it.
Here amongst the Bongo, in distinction from the “tabba,” it was known
as “masheer.” The growth it makes is less than in Europe, but it is
distinguished by the extreme strength and by the intense narcotic
qualities which it possesses. It is different in this respect from
what is grown in Persia, where it is used for the narghileh or
water-pipes, and whence there is a large export of it, because of its
mildness and aromatic qualities. Barth[27] has given his opinion that
the tobacco is a native of Logane (Mosgoo). At all events, the people
of Africa have far surpassed every other people in inventing various
contrivances for smoking, rising from the very simplest apparatus to
the most elaborate; and thus the conjecture is tenable, that they
probably favoured the propagation of the foreign growth, because
smoking, either of the common tobacco (_N. rustica_) or of some other
aromatic weed, had in some way already been a practice amongst them.
To such a hypothesis might be opposed the important fact that on all
the monuments of the ancient Egyptians that afford us so clear an
insight into the details of their domestic life, there has never been
found a written inscription or pictorial representation that could
possibly afford a proof that such a custom was known to exist. In
conclusion, it deserves to be mentioned that the pagan negroes, as far
as they have remained uninfluenced by Islamism, smoke the tobacco
whilst those who have embraced Mohammedanism prefer the chewing of the
leaf to the enjoyment of a pipe.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [24] The illustration on the following page represents a
     young fish, about nine inches long, and is remarkable for
     the long, thread-like spikes of skin on the lids of the
     gills. This peculiarity has been observed in Senegal, and
     probably is only seen whilst the fish is young.

     [25] The head of the Madoqua is represented as accurately
     as possible in the accompanying illustration.

     [26] In all descriptions of sorghum, as given by
     travellers, there seems to be a considerable confusion with
     respect to the distinctive names of this ordinary cereal.
     It is called promiscuously “Kaffir-corn,” “negro-cane,”
     “bushel-maize,” “Moorish-mille,” or sometimes “durra.”
     Durra is an Arabic definition, which can be traced in
     literature as far as the tenth century. The etymology of
     the Italian word _sorgho_ is altogether uncertain. Peter de
     Crescentiis, about the year 1300, is the first author who
     definitely alludes to corn under this name; whether Pliny
     meant to refer to it is very doubtful. The Germans in the
     South Tyrol, who are very limited in their acquaintance
     with cultivated cereals, call it, in their Germanised way,
     “Sirch,” whilst the Sclavonians corrupt it further into
     “Sirek.” In Egypt this sorghum is called _Durra belladi_,
     “durra of the country,” to distinguish it from maize, which
     is known as _Durra Shahmi_, or “Syrian durra.” In Syria
     itself, where the sorghum is little known, because rarely
     cultivated, it is simply called “durra.” Throughout the
     Soudan it has exclusively the appellation of _Aish_, _i.e._
     “bread.”

     [27] Vol. iii., p. 215.




                              CHAPTER VII.

  THE BONGO: Area, boundaries, and population of Bongoland.
     Subjection of the Bongo to the Khartoomers. Decrease of
     population by slave-trading. Red tinge of the skin. Width of
     the skull. Small growth of hair. No aridity in climate. Wild
     tubers as food. Races of goats and dogs. Hunting-weapons.
     Villages and huts. Smelting furnaces. Money of the Bongo.
     Weapons for display. Wood-carving. Penates of the Bongo. Musical
     instruments. Character of Bongo music. Corpulence of the women.
     Hottentot Venus. Mutilation of the teeth. Disfigurement of
     the lips. Arrow-poisoning. National games. Marriage premiums.
     Natural morality. Disposing of the dead. Memorial erections.
     Mistrust of spirits. Loma, good and ill-luck. Fear of ghosts.
     Belief in witches. Peculiarities of language. Unity of the
     people of Central Africa. Extermination of the race.


I purpose in this chapter to describe a people which, though visibly
on the decline, may still by its peculiarity and striking independence
in nationality, language, and customs, be selected from amid the
circle of its neighbours as a genuine type of African life. Belonging
to the past as much as to the present, without constitution, history,
or definite traditions, it is passing away, like deeds forgotten in
the lapse of time, and is becoming as a drop in the vast sea of the
Central African races. But just as a biographer, by depicting the
passions, failings, and virtues of a few individuals, may exhibit a
representation of an entire epoch in history, so we may turn with
interest to scenes which have been enacted in this limited district of
the great and mysterious continent, sure of finding much edifying
matter in the course of our investigations. Like the rain-drop which
feeds the flowing river and goes its way to replenish the mighty
ocean, every separate people, however small, has its share in the
changes which supervene in the progress of nations; there is not one
which is without an abstract bearing on the condition of primitive
Africa, and which may not aid us in an intelligent survey of any
perspective that may be opened into its still dark interior.

To the antiquary, within whose province the description may lie in a
degree, the material that is offered must be in a measure attractive.
A people, as long as they are on the lowest step of their development,
are far better characterised by their industrial products than they
are either by their habits, which may be purely local, or by their own
representations, which (rendered in their rude and unformed language)
are often incorrectly interpreted by ourselves. If we possessed more
of these tokens, we should be in a position to comprehend better than
we do the primitive condition of many a nation that has now reached a
high degree of culture.

[Sidenote: COUNTRY OF THE BONGO.]

Of all the natives with whom I had intercourse in my wanderings, the
majority of those who acted as my bearers, and amongst whom I most
frequently sojourned, were the Bongo. It was in their territory that I
spent the greater part of my time in the interior; and thus it
happened that I became intimate with many particulars of their life,
was initiated into all their habits, and even to a certain extent
mastered their dialect.[28]

The present country of the Bongo lies between lat. 6° and 8° N. on the
south-western boundary of the depression of the Bahr-el-Ghazal basin,
and on the lowest of the terraces where the southern slopes appear to
make a transition from the elevated ferruginous crust to the
unfathomed alluvial flats which are traversed by all the affluents of
the river. In the extent of its area the land covers about the same
surface as Belgium, but with regard to population, it might be more
aptly compared to the plains of Siberia or the northern parts of
Norway and Sweden; it is a deserted wilderness, averaging only 11 or
12 people to the square mile. The country extends from the Roah to the
Pango, and embraces the middle course of nearly all the affluents of
the Gazelle; it is 175 miles long by 50 miles broad, but towards the
north-west the breadth diminishes to about 40 miles. On the north it
is only divided by the small Dyoor country from that of the Dinka,
which, however, it directly joins upon the north-east. The south-east
boundary is the Mittoo territory on the Roah; and that on the west is
the country of the Golo and Sehre on the Pango. The eastern branch of
the extensive Niam-niam lands joins the Bongo on the south; whilst,
wedged between and straitly pressed, the Bellanda and the Babuckur
have their settlements.

When, eighteen years ago, the Khartoomers first set foot in Bongoland,
they found the entire country divided into a number of independent
districts, all in the usual anarchy of petty African communities;
there was nothing anywhere like an organised commonwealth such as may
be found amongst the Dinka, where entire districts unite and form an
imposing warlike tribe. Every village simply had its chief, who, in
virtue of superior wealth, exercised a certain authority over the rest
of the inhabitants, and who, in some cases, had an additional
_prestige_ from his skill in the art of magic. The Nubians,
consequently, never had to contend against the unanimous hostility of
a powerful or well-disciplined people, and only in a few isolated
places had to encounter much resolute opposition. Their soldiers, not
merely by the tenor of their religion, conceived themselves justified
in perpetrating every sort of outrage upon heathen unbelievers, but
they were taught to consider their acts of violence as meritorious in
the sight of God: it was, therefore, an easy matter for them to fall
upon the weak authorities of the country, and in the space of a few
years to apportion the entire territory amongst the few ivory
merchants in Khartoom, whose spirit of enterprise, suddenly kindled by
the exaggerated reports of the profits secured on the Upper Nile by
Europeans, the first explorers, had developed itself into a remarkable
activity.

[Sidenote: VASSALAGE.]

The natives were without difficulty reduced to a condition of
vassalage, and, in order that they might be under the close
supervision and at the service of their oppressors, they were
compelled to quit their homes, and to reside near the Seribas that
were established in various parts of the land. By the application of
this sort of feudal system, the trading companies brought about the
realisation of their project for a permanent occupation of the
country. Shut in by the Niam-niam on the south and by the Dinka on the
north, Bongoland offered a twofold advantage for the establishment of
headquarters for the expeditions: in the first place, it was in close
proximity to the Mesheras, or landing-places; and, secondly, by its
advanced position towards the interior, it afforded most ample
opportunities for setting in operation the contemplated excursions to
the prolific ivory districts of the south. The Dinka, hostile and
intractable from the first, had never given the intruders the smallest
chance of settling amongst them; while the Bongo, docile and yielding,
and addicted almost exclusively to agriculture, had, on the other
hand, contributed in no slight measure to maintain the Seribas. If
ever, now and again, they had been roused to offer anything like a
warlike opposition, they had only too soon succumbed to the motto of
the conquerors, “Divide, et impera.”

The Dyoor, the Golo, the Mittoo, and other smaller tribes, shared the
fate of the Bongo, and in the short space of ten years a series of
more than eighty Seribas had arisen between the Rohl and the Beery.
Scarcely half the population escaped slavery, and that only by
emigrating; a portion took refuge amongst the Dinka on the north, and
others withdrew southwards to the Niam-niam frontiers, where the
isolated mountains enabled them to hold out for a while. The
Khartoomers, however, were not long in pursuing them, and gradually
displaced them even from this position.

During the early years of their occupation, the Nubians beyond a
question treated the country most shamefully; there are traces still
existing which demonstrate that large villages and extensive plots of
cultivated land formerly occupied the scene where now all is
desolation. Boys and girls were carried off by thousands as slaves to
distant lands; and the Nubians, like the _parvenu_ who looks upon his
newly-acquired wealth as inexhaustible, regarded the territory as
being permanently productive; they revelled like monkeys in the
durra-fields of Taka and Gedaref. In course of time they came to know
that the enduring value of the possessions which they had gained
depended mainly on the physical force at their disposal; they began to
understand how they must look to the hands of the natives for the
cultivation of their corn, and to their legs for the transport of
their merchandise. Meanwhile, altogether, the population must have
diminished by at least two-thirds. According to a careful estimate
that I made of the numbers of huts in the villages around the Seribas
and the numbers of bearers levied in the several districts, I found
that the population could not at most be reckoned at more than
100,000, scattered over an area of nearly 9000 square miles.

On first landing from the rivers, the Khartoomers opened up an
intercourse with the Dinka, who did not refuse to furnish them with
bearers and interpreters for their further progress into the interior,
and it was from them that they learnt the names of the different
tribes. In Central Africa every nation has a different designation for
its neighbours than that by which they are known among themselves; and
it is the same with the rivers, which have as many names as the
nations through whose territory they flow. In this way the Nubians
have adopted the Dinka appellations of Dyoor for Lwoh, Niam-niam for
Zandey, and Dohr for Bongo. This last people always style themselves
Bongo, and the Khartoomers, since they have made their headquarters in
their territory, have discarded the Dinka name of Dohr, and now always
use the native term Bongo. According to the Arabic form of expression,
the plural of Dohr is Derahn, and of Niam-niam it is Niamahniam.

[Sidenote: COMPLEXION OF THE BONGO.]

The complexion of the Bongo in colour is not dissimilar to the
red-brown soil upon which they reside; the Dinka, on the other hand,
are black as their own native alluvium. The circumstance is suggestive
of Darwin’s theory of “protective resemblance” among animals; and
although in this instance it may be purely accidental, yet it appears
to be worthy of notice. Any traveller who has followed the course of
the main sources of the White Nile into the heathen negro countries,
and who has hitherto made acquaintance only with Shillooks, Nueir, and
Dinka, will, on coming amongst the Bongo, at once recognise the
commencement of a new series of races extending far onwards to the
south. As trees and plants are the children of the soil from which
they spring, so here does the human species appear to adapt itself in
external aspect to the red ferruginous rock which prevails around. The
jet-black Shillooks, Nueir, and Dinka, natives of the dark alluvial
flats, stand out in marked distinction to the dwellers upon the
iron-red rocks, who (notwithstanding their diversity in dialect, in
habit, or in mode of life) present the characteristics of a connected
whole. Of this series the tribes which must be accounted the most
important are the Bongo, the Mittoo, the Niam-niam, and the Kredy, all
of which are equally remarkable for their entire indifference to
cattle-breeding. The whole of these, especially the women, are
distinguished for the reddish hue of their skin, which in many cases
is almost copper-coloured. It cannot be denied that this red-brown
complexion is never entirely wanting, even amongst the darkest skins
that are found in the lowlands; but the difference between their
complexion and what is ordinarily observed among the Bongo is only to
be illustrated by the contrast in colour between a camellia leaf in
its natural condition and after its epidermis has been removed.

Although amongst every race the tint of the complexion is sure to
deviate into considerable varieties of shade, yet, from a broad
estimate, it may be asserted that the general tint remains unaltered,
and that what may be denominated the “ground tint” constitutes a
distinctive mark separating between race and race. Gustav Fritsch, in
his work upon the people of Southern Africa, has bestowed great
attention upon this subject, and by means of an ingenious table,
arranged according to the intensity of various shades of colour, has
very perspicuously explained the characteristics of the Kaffirs,
Hottentots, and Bochjesmen. As matter of fact, among the Bongo may be
seen individuals with their skin as black as ebony; but yet this does
not prevent the true ground tint of their complexions being something
essentially distinct from any example that could occur among the true
Ethiopians, whether these might be light or dark. The evidence of the
distinction of which I speak, I have no doubt is altogether very
conclusive; and I have had many opportunities of testing its reality
in my observations at the various Seribas, where half-castes are very
numerous, being the offspring of Nubians (including Bedouins in that
category) and Bongo.

In taking a coloured likeness of a Bongo it is necessary to use the
deep red pigment known as Pompeian red very freely. I was once in the
studio of an artist at Rome who was painting in oil the likeness of a
Bongo whom I had brought to Europe. I could not help observing that he
made the ground-tint of the flesh quite of a liver colour (hepatic)
hue, whilst when he was portraying natives, either of Dongola or of
Berber, or even when he was depicting the true Arabs, although their
skins were equally dark, he did not make use of red at all, but
employed a kind of yellow for the basis of the shades to follow. His
proceeding appeared to me an involuntary attestation to the
distinction which really exists.

[Sidenote: STATURE OF THE BONGO.]

Like the Niam-niam, Mittoo, and Kredy, the Bongo rarely exceed a
medium height. They differ, however, in several respects from the
Dinka and other people of the lowland plains. Their prominent
characteristics appeared to me to consist in a more compact form of
limb, a sharper development of muscle, a wider formation of the skull,
and generally a preponderating mass in the upper part of the body. Of
83 men that I measured I did not find one who had attained a height of
6 ft. 1 in., whilst the average height did not appear to me to be more
than 5 ft. 7 in. Dinka and Bongo alike afforded very striking samples
of the two great series of races which they severally represented, and
each displayed the principal characteristics of their particular race
in their stature, their complexion, and their form of skull. I cannot
recall a single instance among the Bongo where the skull was of the
long but narrow shape that is all but universal among the Dinka. Of
many of these Bongo that I measured, I should pronounce that they
would require to be classified as hardly removed from the lowest grade
of the Brachycephaly. They appear themselves to be aware of this
characteristic. I remember a discussion that once arose about a little
boy, too young to speak, as to whether he was a Dinka or a Bongo. One
of the interpreters, after minute examination of the proportions of
the child’s head, came to an immediate, but decided, opinion that the
boy was a Bongo, and in answer to my inquiry as to the grounds on
which he so confidently based his decision, he explained that he
judged from the fact that the head was broad; he went on, moreover,
accompanying his words by corresponding gestures, to say that the
Bongo women, as soon as an infant is born, press its head downwards,
but the Dinka mothers, on the contrary, compress the heads of their
babies from the sides. Now, although it is hardly credible that this
manipulation on the part of the mothers would have any permanent
influence on the conformation of the skulls of an entire nation, yet
we may accept the statement as a significant proof of the high
estimation in which the natives hold this attribute and token of their
race. It has been proved by experience that in the most diverse
nations of the earth, mothers will always be ready to use external
means to promote as far as they can any signs of nationality in their
offspring, ignorant of the certainty that these signs would of
themselves, without assistance, be manifested eventually. In order to
effect an actual alteration in the shape of the skull, such as may be
observed amongst the Mongolian and American Indian tribes, it is
necessary to employ continuous and forcible pressure, and to bind the
head with straps and bandages from the earliest infancy.

The hair of the Bongo offers no peculiarity, either with regard to its
culture or its growth, that can be deemed of any special interest; it
is short and curly; moreover, it is of that woolly nature at which, in
default of anything better, the theorist who propounds the doctrine of
the independent and yet of the mutual connection of the heathen races
eagerly clutches. Corresponding to the numerous gradations in
complexion and formation of the skull are the varieties in growth of
the hair which are exhibited. Hair which is thick and frizzly is
common amongst every race that has hitherto been discovered on African
soil, and although there are a few unimportant exceptions among the
Arab tribes (the Sheigieh) who have settled in Nubia, and
notwithstanding that the hair of the Ethiopians, as well as that of
the North African people may be termed curly more appropriately than
woolly, yet straight hair is nowhere to be found. The real
distinctions, therefore, in the growth of the hair in the nations of
Central Africa consist in the colour and length, which vary
considerably in the different races; beards predominate with some,
whilst with others they fail entirely. In common with most other
people of the red soil, the Bongo have hair which is perfectly black,
but in its length it is very different from that of the Niam-niam. On
the Niam-niam frontiers the Bongo have often tried to imitate their
neighbours by twisting and plaiting their hair, but their attempts
have been always a failure. Whiskers, beards, and moustaches are
cultivated in very rare cases, but the hair never grows to a length
much exceeding half-an-inch.

[Sidenote: SUPPLY OF WATER.]

Bongoland is traversed from south to north by five important
tributaries of the Gazelle. With these are associated a number of
smaller rivulets which are not permanent streams; nevertheless, from
the pools which remain in their beds throughout the dry season, they
furnish a sufficient supply of moisture to maintain the vegetation of
the country. Water for drinking never fails, although from November to
the end of March a fall of rain is quite exceptional. In cases of
necessity water can always be procured without much time or trouble
from those pools which survive the periodical water-courses in the
marshes. Dearth as a consequence of prolonged drought appears to be a
condition quite unknown; certainly it has not occurred for the last
ten years. The crops are far more frequently injured by superabundant
moisture than by drought, and the continuance of wide inundations has
been followed by famine. Everything seems to suggest the thought how
easily rice might be cultivated in the country.

The Bongo are essentially an agricultural people. With the exception
of some occasional hunting and some intermittent periods devoted to
fishing, they depend entirely upon the produce of the soil for their
subsistence. Their cultivated plants have already been noticed in a
previous chapter. To agriculture men and women alike apply themselves,
devoting their greatest attention to the culture of their sorghum. The
amount of labour they bestow upon this cereal is very large. The seed
is lavishly broadcast into trenches which have been carefully prepared
for its reception, and when it has germinated and made its appearance
above the ground, two or three weeks are spent in thinning the shoots
and in transplanting them away from the spots where they are too
thick; a system which experience has shown can very advantageously be
applied to maize. Very few vegetables are cultivated, but for these
the people find a variety of substitutes in the wild plants and tubers
which abound. Everywhere throughout the tropics the Gynandropsis, the
Corchorus, and the Gieseckia grow close upon the confines of the
abodes of men, and the leaves of these, like the leaves of the gourd,
are frequently used as an ingredient in soup. The fleshy leaves of the
_Talinum roseum_ are served up in the same way as our spinach; and the
tough foliage of the Tirna-tree (_Pterocarpus_), as it becomes soft in
the process of boiling, is employed as a vegetable, and is really
sweet and tender. The fruit of the Hymenocardia, not unlike that of
the maple, has an acid flavour far from unpleasant, and serves a
similar purpose.

[Sidenote: FUNGUSES.]

During the rainy season the country is very prolific in many varieties
of funguses. The Bongo have a great fancy for them; they keep them
till they are on the verge of decay, and then dry and pound them. They
use them for the purpose of flavouring their sauces, which in
consequence are enriched by a _haut goût_, which without depreciation
may perhaps be compared to rotten fish. Throughout the country I never
saw any funguses but what were perfectly edible, and some of them I
must confess were very palatable. The natives call them all “Kahoo,”
while to the larger species they give the special name of
“hegba-mboddoh,” which is synonymous with the Low German “poggen
staul,” or with the English “toad-stool.” “Hegba” is the name which
the Bongo give to their little carved stools, and “mboddoh” is the
generic term for all frogs and toads, and the proper designation for
the _Bufo pandarinus_ in particular. This “hegba-mboddoh,” which has
thus suggested the same idea in very remote parts of the world, is
here a gigantic Polyporus; not unfrequently specimens may be found of
it which grow to a height of nine inches, are a foot in diameter and
weigh nearly fifty pounds. In form, size, and colour they are not
unlike the grey clay edifices of the _Termes mordax_, of which I shall
have occasion to speak hereafter. The funguses which are most common,
and which moreover are the most preferred, are the different species
of Coprinus, Marasmius, Rhodosporus, and the tough but aromatic
Lentinus.

I have already mentioned the great abundance of edible, if not always
palatable, fruit which is produced by the common trees of the country.
In clearing the woods for their tillage the Bongo are always careful
to leave as many of these trees as they can, and by thus sparing them
they preserve many a noble ornament to their fields, which would
otherwise be as monotonous as they are flat. The Butter-tree and the
Parkia are very carefully in this way saved from destruction, and form
a striking feature in many of their landscapes. It is a remarkable
peculiarity of the flora of this region that all the species which are
not essentially shrubby or arborescent strive for a perennial
existence; and, as evidence of this, it may be observed that the roots
and portions of the stem beneath the soil either develop into bulbs
and tubers, or exhibit a determination to become woody. Annuals occupy
a very insignificant place, and all vegetation seems to be provided
with a means of withstanding the annual steppe-burning, and of
preserving the germs of life until the next period of vitality recurs.
When their corn provision is exhausted, or when there is a failure in
the harvest, then do the Bongo find a welcome resource in these
tubers; they subsist upon them for days in succession, and find in
them the staple of their nourishment whenever they go upon their
marches in the wilderness.

Quite incredible is it what the Bongo are able to digest. Most of the
bulbs and tubers are so extremely bitter that it is not until they
have been thoroughly steeped in boiling water or have had their
pungent matter mollified by being roasted at a fire, that they can be
eaten at all; they are gall to the taste. Amongst these bitter bulbs
there are two which may claim a special notice; these are the Mandibo
and the Moddobehee. The Mandibo is a species of Coccinea, which is
nearly everywhere very abundant; the Moddobehee (dog’s gum) is one of
the Eureiandræ; they are both Cucurbitaceæ, and both contain poisonous
matter. Impregnated with the like bitterness are the rape-like roots
of the Asclepiadeæ, the huge tubers of the _Entada Wahlbergii_, and of
the Pachyrrhizus; so also are the various kinds of Vernoniæ and
Flemingiæ, which are dug up from a foot below the surface of the soil.

The natives can make but little use of the plants which grow from any
of these numerous tubers. The diminutive Drimia lifts its pretty red
blossoms about a couple of inches above the rocky ground, and is a
bulbous plant which becomes edible after a prolonged boiling.

Whenever a halt is made upon the marches across the wilderness, the
bearers, as soon as they are liberated from their burdens, set very
vigorously to work and grub up all sorts of roots from the nearest
thickets. I can myself vouch for a fact, which might fairly be deemed
incredible, that thirty Bongo who accompanied me on my return to
Sabby, at a time when I had scarcely enough to keep me from
starvation, subsisted for six consecutive days entirely on these
roots, and although we were hurrying on by forced marches, they lost
neither their strength nor their spirits. Their constitution was
radically sound, and they seemed formed to defy the treatment of their
inhospitable home.

Already it has been mentioned that there is an entire deficiency of
common salt throughout the district of the Gazelle. The alkali that is
everywhere its substitute is obtained by soaking the ashes of the
burnt wood of the _Grewia mollis_, a shrub common throughout
Bongoland, and which is notoriously useful in another way by the
quantity of bast which it produces.

[Sidenote: SMOKING AMONG THE BONGO.]

Tobacco is indispensable to the Bongo, and is universally cultivated.
The species known as Mashirr (_Nicotiana rustica_) is very pungent;
its small thick leaves are pounded in a mortar, and are subsequently
pressed and dried in moulds. From the cakes thus formed, the natives
break off fragments as they require them, grind them into powder by
means of stones, and smoke the preparation in long pipes that have
very pretty clay bowls. They are addicted to smoking quite as
inveterately as many of the nations that live in the polar regions,
and are not content until they are utterly stupefied by its effects. I
had a circumstance brought under my notice which exhibited to me the
extreme to which they can carry their abuse of the narcotic: upon one
of our marches a Bongo man had indulged to such excess, and had
inhaled the pungent fume so long, that he fell senseless into a
campfire, and was taken up so severely burnt that he had to be carried
by his comrades on a litter for the remainder of the journey.

The Bongo fashion of smoking is even more disgusting than that which
has been already described as prevalent amongst the Dinka. In the same
manner as with them, the pipe is passed from hand to hand, but the
lump of bast that intercepts the pungent oil is not placed in the
receptacle of the stem, but is put in the mouth of the smoker, and
together with the pipe is passed from one person to another. The habit
of chewing tobacco is adopted as much by the Bongo as by the
Mohammedan inhabitants of Nubia; but the custom is so universal that
there would seem to be ample justification for the belief that it is
indigenous rather than what has been acquired from foreigners. The
practice in which the Bongo indulges of placing his tobacco quid
behind his ear is very repulsive.

[Illustration: Bongo Goat.]

[Sidenote: BONGO GOATS.]

It is to their indifference to cattle-breeding, like what is practised
so extensively by the Dinka, that the Bongo owe their comparatively
peaceful relations with the so-called “Turks.” It is to the same cause
that the latter are indebted for the sluggish measure of opposition
shown them by their vassals. The domestic animals of the Bongo are
poultry, dogs, and goats; sheep being almost as rare as cattle. The
goats are unlike those of the Dinka, but are of a breed quite common
throughout these regions of Central Africa. Not only did I see them
amongst the Mittoo and Madi, but likewise among the Babuckur, and even
in the country of the Monbuttoo, whither they had been brought by the
equatorial nations whom the Monbuttoo simply style the “Momvoo.” These
goats, like the Dinka sheep, are distinguished by a hairy appendage
from the breast and shoulders, and by a short stiff mane, which runs
right along the ridge of the back to the small erect tail. The frontal
is round, and projects considerably beyond the base of the nasal bone,
and the horns are very strong and but slightly curved. The ordinary
colour of these pretty animals is a light fawn or chamois-brown, the
mane being very dark. I occasionally found the Bongo in possession of
another breed which I met with nowhere else, and which is probably
merely a cross with the Dinka goat. It has a remarkably short and
plump body, and is generally of a pepper-and-salt colour. The coat is
somewhat longer and more shaggy than that of the other breed, and
besides the mane-like appendage in front the hind quarters are also
covered with long rough hair.

[Illustration: Short-bodied Goat of the Bongo.]

The Bongo dogs, with regard to size, are between the small Niam-niam
race and the Dinka breed, which corresponds more nearly to the common
pariah of Egypt. On account of the indiscriminate crossing of the
races, a dog of pure Bongo breed is somewhat rare; its chief
characteristics are a reddish tan colour, short erect ears, and a
bushy tail like a fox’s brush. Their greatest peculiarity appeared to
me to be the bristling of their hair, which at every provocation
stands up along the back and neck like that of an angry cat. The
bushiness of the tail distinguishes the breed from the smooth-tailed
Dinka dog, and from that of the Niam-niam, of which the tails are as
curly as pigtails.

Although the Bongo are not over choice in their food, they
persistently abstain from eating dog’s flesh, a practice to which
their southern and south-eastern neighbours are notoriously addicted;
in fact, they show as much abhorrence at the idea as they would at
devouring human flesh itself. They have a curious superstition about
dead dogs. I was about to bury one of my dogs that had recently died,
and some of the men came and implored me to desist from my intention,
since the result would assuredly be that no rain would fall upon their
seeds. For this reason all the Bongo simply throw their dead dogs out
into the open fields.

At some seasons, especially at the end of the rainy months, fishing
and hunting offer productive sources for obtaining the means of
subsistence. Hunting is sometimes practised by independent individuals
going out separately; but at other times it takes the form of an
extensive _battue_, in which the men belonging to a whole district
will combine to take a share. Occasionally, too, a rich booty is
obtained from the trenches and snares. Nets are used in all the
_battues_ for game, and the Bongo devote as much attention to the
construction of these nets as they do to the weaving of their
fish-snares and basket-pots. Their fishery is principally limited to
the winter months.

[Sidenote: HUNTING-SNARES.]

Elephant-hunting has for the last twelve years been among the things
of the past. It is only the oldest of the men—and here the number of
the men that are really old is very small—who appear to have any
distinct recollection of it at all. The huge lance-heads, which are
now only weapons of luxury in the possession of the wealthy, or upon
some rare occasions used for buffalo-hunting, are the sole memorials
of the abundance of ivory of which Petherick, as an eye-witness, has
given so striking a description. The snares by which the Bongo succeed
in catching the smaller kinds of game generally consist of the stem of
a tree balanced horizontally by means of ropes.[29] A spot which the
game is known to haunt is selected for the erection of these snares; a
hedge, or some sort of enclosure, is set up on each side of the tree
so that the game may be obliged to run underneath: it is arranged so
that the animals as they pass tread upon a kind of noose or slip-knot
which slackens the ropes by which the tree is suspended, and the
falling weight crushes and kills the game below. The numbers of snares
of this description which are found in the bush-thickets is a
sufficient proof of their efficacy. The smaller species of antelopes,
ichneumons, civets, genets, wild cats, servals, and caracals, are all
in turn caught by this stratagem.

Hunting on a minor scale is a very favourite recreation, and the
children find a daily amusement in catching rats and field-mice. They
weave baskets in the form of long tubes, which they lay flat upon the
ground in the immediate neighbourhood of the mouse-holes; they then
commence a regular _battue_, when the scared mice, scampering back to
regain their homes, run through the stubble, and often rush into the
open traps, where, like fish in a weir-basket, they are easily
secured. In this way the Bongo boys catch considerable quantities of
meriones, _Mus gentilis_, and _M. barbarus_, which they tie together
by their tails in clusters of about a dozen, and barter them to each
other as dainty morsels. “These are our cows,” they would shout to me
with great glee whenever I met them returning after their sport had
been successful. Another use which is made of the mice which are
captured by this simple artifice is to employ them for a bait for
securing what they esteem the especial delicacy of roast cat. On the
narrow paths which traverse the steppes like rifts in the long grass,
they construct diminutive huts out of some twisted reeds; by placing
the mice inside these they are very often able to entice the cats into
a snare.

With the exception of human flesh and the flesh of dogs, the Bongo
seem to consider all animal substance fit for eating, in whatever
condition it may be found. The putrefying remnant of a lion’s feast,
which lies in the obscurity of a forest and is only revealed by the
kites and vultures circling in the air above, is to them a welcome
discovery. That meat is “high” is a guarantee for its being tender,
and they deem it in that condition not only more strengthening than
when it is fresh, but likewise more easy of digestion. There is,
however, no accounting for taste, certainly not with the Bongo, who do
not recoil from the most revolting of food. Whenever my cattle were
slaughtered, I always saw my bearers eagerly contending for the
half-digested contents of the stomach, like the Esquimaux, whose only
ideas of vegetables appears to be what they obtain from the contents
of the paunches of their reindeers; and I have seen the Bongo calmly
strip off the disgusting amphistoma-worms which literally line the
stomachs of all the cattle of this region, and put them into their
mouths by handfuls. After that, it was not a matter of surprise to me
to find that the Bongo reckons as game everything that creeps or
crawls, from rats and mice to snakes, and that he is not particular
what he eats, from the carrion vulture to the mangy hyæna, or from the
fat earth-scorpions (_Heterometrus palmatus_) to the caterpillars of
the winged termites with their oily beetle-bodies.

Having thus dilated with more minuteness than elsewhere upon the
external features of Bongo life, such as their agriculture, hunting,
and fishing, I may proceed to call attention to those arts by which,
even in this low grade of development, man seeks to ameliorate and
embellish his existence.

[Sidenote: BONGO DWELLINGS.]

First of all, the dwelling-place may demand our notice, that which
binds every man more or less to the soil which affords him his
subsistence—that family nucleus, from which the wide-branching tree
of human society has derived its origin.

In the period when the Khartoomers first made their way into the
country, the Bongo, quite unlike the other tribes, inhabited extensive
villages, which, similar to the present Seribas, were encompassed by a
palisade. Neither towns nor villages are now to be seen, and the
districts which are occupied at all are only marked by scattered
enclosures and little gatherings of huts, as in the country of the
Dinka and the Niam-niam. Very rarely are more than five or six
families resident in the same locality, so that it is almost an
exaggeration to speak of their being villages in any sense. The
communities in past times seem to have had a preference for gathering
round some great tamarind, ficus, or butter-tree, which often still
survives and constitutes the only relic of habitations which have long
fallen to decay; and even to the present time the Bongo appear to
retain this partiality, and more often than not they may be found
beneath the natural shade of a spreading roof of foliage, enjoying the
light and space which are prohibited to their cramped and narrow
dwellings. The ground for a considerable circuit about the huts is all
well cleared and levelled, its surface being the general scene of
labour on which all the women perform their ordinary domestic duties.
The corn is there thrashed and winnowed; there it is brayed in the
wooden mortars or pounded by the mill; there are the leaves of the
tobacco plant laid out to dry; there stand the baskets with the loads
of mushrooms or supply of fruit; and there may be seen the accumulated
store of nutritious roots. Dogs and poultry alike seem to revel in
security under the majestic covering, while the little children at
their play complete the idyllic picture of life in Central Africa.[30]

Upon the erection of their dwellings there is no people in the Gazelle
district who bestow so much pains as the Bongo. Although they
invariably adopt the conical shape, they allow themselves considerable
diversity in the forms they use. The general plan of their
architecture has already been sketched. The materials they employ are
upright tree-stems, plaited faggots, canes of the bamboo, clay from
the mushroom-shaped white-ant hills, and tough grass and the bast of
the Grewia.

The diameter of the dwellings rarely exceeds twenty-feet, the height
generally being about the same. The entrance consists of a hole so
small that it is necessary to creep through in order to get inside;
and the door consists of a hurdle swung upon two posts so as to be
pushed backwards and forwards at pleasure. The clay floor in the
interior is always perfectly level; it is made secure against damp as
well as against the entrance of white ants by having been flattened
down by the women trampling upon broad strips of bark laid upon it.
The common sleeping-place of the parents and smaller children is on
the floor. The bedding generally consists only of skins, the Bongo
having little care for mats. For the pillow of the family they
ordinarily use a branch of a tree smoothed by being stripped of its
bark.

In every dwelling-place is found a conical receptacle for corn, named
the “gallotoh,” which is elevated on piles, varying in height, so as
to protect the provision from the damp of the soil or from the ravages
of rats or white ants. Magazines of this kind for the reserve of corn
are in general use throughout Africa, from the Rumboo of Damerghoo in
the Central Soudan, right into the country of the Kaffirs and
Bechuanas.

All the dwellings of the Bongo, whether large or small, are marked by
one characteristic, which might almost be represented as a national
feature. The peak of their huts is always furnished with a circular
pad of straw, very carefully made, which serves as a seat, and from
which it is possible to take a survey of the country, covered with its
tall growth of corn. The name of “gony” is given to this elevation,
which is surrounded by six or eight curved bits of wood projecting as
though the roof were furnished with horns. It is peculiar to the huts
of the Bongo.

[Sidenote: ABUNDANCE OF IRON.]

Iron is found in such quantities throughout the region that naturally
the inhabitants devote much of their attention to its manipulation;
its very abundance apparently secures them an advantage over the
Dinka. Although, according to our conceptions they would be described
as utterly deficient in tools and apparatus, still they produce some
very wonderful results, even surpassing the Dyoor in skill. With their
rude bellows and a hammer which, more commonly than not, is merely a
round ball of pebble-stone (though occasionally it may be a little
pyramid of iron without a handle) upon an anvil of gneiss or granite,
with an ordinary little chisel and a pair of tongs consisting of a
mere split piece of green wood, they contrive to fabricate articles
which would bear comparison with the productions of an English
smith.[31]

The season when opportunity is found for putting the iron-works in
motion is after the harvest has been housed and the rains are over.
Already, in a previous chapter,[32] iron-work, as produced by the
Dyoor, has been noticed, but the Bongo have a system considerably more
advanced, which appears worthy of a brief description. Their smelting
apparatus is an erection of clay, generally about five feet in height,
containing in its interior three distinct compartments.[33] These are
all of the same size, that in the middle being filled with alternate
layers of fuel and ore. This centre chamber is separated from the
lower by means of a kind of frame resting on a circular projection;
and it is divided from the chamber above by a narrow neck of
communication. The highest and lowest of the divisions are used for
fuel only. Round the base of the inferior chamber there are four
holes, into which the “tewels” or pokers are introduced, and to which
bellows are applied to increase the intensity of the combustion; there
is a fifth hole, which can be stopped with clay as often as may be
desired, and which serves to allow the metal to be raked out after it
has trickled down into the cavity below the frame.

[Illustration]

The most important of the iron productions are designed for the trade
that the Bongo carry on with the tribes that dwell in the north, and
which some time since was very active. The raw iron is exhibited in
three separate shapes: one is named “mahee,” being spear-heads of one
or two feet long, corresponding exactly with what has been mentioned
as common with the Dyoor; the second is known as “loggoh kullutty,”
and is simply a lot of black, ill-formed spades; the third is called
distinctively “loggoh,” consisting of regular spades, which, under the
market appellation of “melot,” have a wide sale everywhere along the
course of the Upper Nile.

[Illustration: Iron money. Loggoh Kullutty. Loggoh melot.]

[Sidenote: BONGO MONEY.]

The “loggoh kullutty” is the circulating medium of the Bongo, the only
equivalent which Central Africa possesses for money of any
description; but, rough-shaped as it is, it seems really to answer in
its way the purpose of regular coin. According to Major Denham, who
visited the Central Soudan in 1824, there were at that time some iron
pieces which were circulated as currency in Loggon on the Lower Shary,
answering to what is now in use among the Bongo; but at the period of
Barth’s visit all traces of their use had long disappeared. The
“loggoh kullutty” is formed in flat circles, varying in diameter from
10 to 12 inches. On one edge there is a short handle; on the opposite
there is attached a projecting limb, something in the form of an
anchor. In this shape the metal is stored up in the treasures of the
rich, and up to the present time it serves as well as the lance-heads
and spades for cash and for exchanges, being available not only for
purchases, but for the marriage portions which every suitor is pledged
to assign. The axe of the Bongo consists of a flat, cumbrous wedge of
iron, into the thick end of which is inserted a knobbed handle; it is
an instrument differing in no particular from what may be seen
throughout Central Africa.

[Illustration: Bongo lances.]

Besides these rough exhibitions of their craft, the Bongo produce
arms, tools, and ornaments of admirable quality, and, at the instance
of the controllers of the Seribas, have manufactured chains and
manacles for the slave-traffic. Very elegant, it might almost be said
artistic, is the work displayed on the points of their arrows and
lances. The keen and (to use a botanical expression) the “awny” barbs
and edges of these instruments, to any one who is aware of the simple
means of production in their reach, must be quite an enigma. The
lances are readily recognised by their shapes, and may be classified
in a threefold way. First, there is the common lancet-formed
spear-head, which is known as “mahee;” then, secondly, there is the
“golo,” a hastate sort of spear, with long iron barbs below the point
extending along the stem to which the wooden stock is attached; whilst
the third description is called “makrigga,” and consists of a spike,
the stem of which is covered with a number of teeth symmetrically
arranged along it, sometimes upwards and sometimes downwards. This
makrigga is often merely an article of show, and the technical skill
of the smith is concentrated upon its design. The name of makrigga is
appropriated to it from the _Randia dumetorum_,[34] a prickly shrub,
which is quite common in the district: seeming to indicate that the
pattern is derived from an object in nature, it affords a fresh
illustration of the view, that all human arts are only imitations of
what may be observed in the free fields of a wide creation.

[Illustration: Pincers used by the Bongo women for plucking out their
eyelashes.]

[Illustration: Knife of the Bongo women.]

[Sidenote: BONGO ORNAMENTS.]

Equal care is bestowed upon the production of the iron and copper
ornaments which are worn and the cutlery which is used by the women.
For the purpose of plucking out their eyebrows and eyelashes, they
employ a pair of little pincers called “peenoh,” of which an
illustration is here introduced. Quite peculiar to the Bongo women are
their “tibbah,” or elongated oval knives, with handles at either end,
which are sharpened on both edges, and which are often very elaborate
in their workmanship. These knives are in constant use for all
domestic purposes, being of especial service in peeling their tubers
and in slicing their gourds and cucumbers. The rings, the bells, the
clasps, the buttons, whatever they affix to their projecting lips or
attach to the rims of their ears, the lancet-shaped hair-pins, which
appear indispensable to the decoration of the crown of their head and
to the parting of their locks, all are fabricated to supply the
demands of the Bongo women’s toilet.

The decoration of which the men are proudest is the “dangabor,” which
simply means “rings one above another.” The Dinka and the Dyoor both
have an ornament very similar to this, composed of accumulated rings,
which cover the arm below the elbow; but the Bongo finish off their
article with much more elaborate work. Each separate ring is furnished
with a boss of a height and strength to correspond with the ring next
to it, the rings themselves being forged so as to become gradually
larger in proportion as they are farther from the wrist. The arm is
thus covered with what may be described as a sleeve of mail, each ring
of which can be turned round or displaced at pleasure.

[Illustration: The Dangabor and a single ring.]

[Sidenote: WOODEN UTENSILS OF THE BONGO.]

Hardly inferior to the skill of the Bongo in the working of iron is
their dexterity in wood-carving. Perhaps the most striking specimens
of their art in this way may be noticed in the little low four-legged
seats or stools which are found in every household, and are called
“hegba.” These are invariably made from a single block, the wood
chosen for the purpose being that of the Göll-tree (_Prosopis
lanceolata_, Benth.), which is of a chestnut brown, and after use
acquires an excellent polish; they are used only by the women, who are
continually to be seen sitting on them in front of their huts, but
they are altogether avoided by the men, who regard every raised seat
as an effeminate luxury.

[Illustration: Bongo stool.]

Other articles of their fabric in wood are the pestles, the troughs
for oil-pressing, the flails for threshing corn, and, most remarkable
of all, the goblet-shaped mortars in which the corn is bruised before
it is ground into flour upon the grinding-stones. Very graceful in
shape are these mortars, not unlike a drinking-goblet with a cut stem;
they are not sunk below the ground, as is ordinarily the case with
those of the Dinka and Dyoor, but they can be removed whenever it is
requisite from place to place. Their height is about thirty inches.
Mortars of very similar design were noticed by Barth amongst the
Musgoo, and they are also used by the Ovambo, the Makololo, and other
negro nations. They are worked by two women at once, who alternately
pound away with heavy pestles in a regular African fashion, which has
been long immortalised by the pictorial representations of ancient
Egypt. Very cleverly, too, do the Bongo cut spoons of very choice
design out of horn, of the same shape as may be found in nearly every
market in Europe.

Consequent upon the oppression to which the Bongo have now for years
been subject, and the remorseless appropriation of all their energies
by the intruders, very many of the primitive habits of the people were
disappearing; and at the time of my visit my attention was rather
arrested by what were memorials of a bygone and happier condition of
things, than by anything that was really done under my eyes. Just as
in the Central Soudan, in Borneo, and in the Tsad countries, so here
also the destructive power of Islamism has manifested itself by
obliterating, in comparatively a brief space of time, all signs of
activity and all traces of progress of any kind. Wherever it prevails,
it annihilates the chief distinctions of race, it effaces the best
vestiges of the past, and extends, as it were, a new desert upon the
face of the land which it overruns. Those who have been eye-witnesses
of the state of things when the intruders first broke in upon the
country, gave me still further details of what had been the special
industries of the people.

In the villages there are found very frequently whole rows of figures
carved out of wood and arranged either at the entrances of the
palisaded enclosures, forming, as it were, a decoration for the
gateway, or set up besides the huts of the “Nyare” (chiefs), as
memorials, to immortalise the renown of some departed character. In
Moody, a district towards the west, I came across the remains (still
in a perfect state of preservation) of an erection of this sort, which
had been reared above the grave of the Bongo chieftain Yanga. Large as
life, the rough-hewn figures represented the chief followed in
procession by his wives and children, apparently issuing from the
tomb. The curious conception of the separate individuals, and the
singular mode in which they were rendered by the artist, awakened my
keenest interest. The illustration which is subjoined may be accepted
as a faithful representation of the first rude efforts of savages in
the arts of sculpture.

[Illustration: Yanga’s grave.]

[Sidenote: BONGO GRAVES.]

Plastic representations of men are known generally by the name of
“Moiogohgyee:” when I first saw them, I was under the impression that
they must be idols, similar to what the Fetish-worship has introduced
into the western coasts, but I soon satisfied myself of my
misconception in this respect. The true design of these wooden figures
is simply to be a memorial of some one who has departed this life:
this is proved by the term “Moiagoh Komarah,” _i.e._, the figure of
the wife, which is applied to an image raised by a surviving husband
to the pious memory of his departed wife, and which is set up in the
hut as a species of Penates. However rude these attempts must be
pronounced, they nevertheless reveal a kind of artistic power
certainly far from contemptible; at any rate, the very labour bestowed
upon them indicates the appreciation which the artist entertained for
his work. The Bongo, for their own part, regard their wooden images as
incomparably superb, and persuade themselves that the likenesses of
those who are represented are perfect. To complete the illusion, they
very often deck the figure with bead-necklaces and rings and affix
some hair over the appropriate parts of the body. Travellers in
Central Africa have narrated that they have seen figures of wood
corresponding to what I have described, but although they have almost
universally taken them for carved deities, I would venture to suggest
that in all probability they are elsewhere monuments of the dead, in
the same way as among the Bongo.

In addition it may be mentioned that a custom exists of raising a
monument of this kind to preserve the memory of any _male_ person who
has been murdered. I was made acquainted with this circumstance by the
mouth of one of the national authorities, who depicted to me the
peculiar custom of his fathers in a narrative to the following effect.
He said that murder and manslaughter used to be the order of the day
at all their festivals and drinking-bouts; when the harvest had been
abundant and the granaries were well-stored with corn, there used to
be no bounds to their licentiousness; there was no respect for the
Nyare, and his words were disregarded amidst the blows of the Nogarra.
Now the “Turks” would punish a murderer by carrying off his wife and
children, and compel him to pay a heavy fine in iron and make some
compensation to the relatives: but formerly the friends would take the
law into their own hands, and proceed to exact personal punishment,
though they had to set to work very warily if they would keep
themselves out of difficulty. When anyone discovered that either his
friend, or it might be his brother, or perhaps his wife, had been
killed, and the criminal could not be detected, it was no unknown
device to prepare beforehand an image carefully representing the
murdered person, and very often the likeness would be singularly
perfect. He would then invite all the men to a feast, at which the
spirituous “legyee” would be freely circulated; and then, when the
excitement was at its height, in the very midst of the singing and
dancing, he would unexpectedly introduce the figure that had been
prepared. The apparition would be sure to work its effect; the culprit
would not fail to be betrayed, as he cowed and exhibited his wish to
slink away. Having thus detected the offender, the injured party could
deal with him as he pleased.

[Sidenote: BONGO MUSIC.]

The Bongo, in their way, are enthusiastic lovers of music; and
although their instruments are of a very primitive description, and
they are unacquainted even with the pretty little guitar of the
Niam-niam, which is constructed on perfectly correct acoustic
principles, yet they may be seen at any hour of the day strumming away
and chanting to their own performances. The youngsters, down to the
small boys, are all musicians. Without much trouble, and with the most
meagre materials, they contrive to make little flutes; they are
accustomed also to construct a monochord, which in its design reminds
one of the instrument which (known as the “gubo” of the Zulus) is
common throughout the tribes of Southern Africa. This consists of a
bow of bamboo, with the string tightly strained across it, and this is
struck by a slender slip of split bamboo. The sounding board is not,
however, made of a calabash attached to the ground, but the mouth of
the player himself performs that office, one end of the instrument
being held to the lips with one hand, while the string is managed with
the other. Performers may often be seen sitting for an hour together
with an instrument of this sort: they stick one end of the bow into
the ground, and fasten the string over a cavity covered with bark,
which opens into an aperture for the escape of the sound. They pass
one hand from one part of the bow to the other, and with the other
they play upon the string with the bamboo twig, and produce a
considerable variety of buzzing and humming airs which are really
rather pretty. This is quite a common pastime with the lads who are
put in charge of the goats. I have seen them apply themselves very
earnestly and with obvious interest to their musical practice, and the
ingenious use to which they apply the simplest means for obtaining
harmonious tones testifies to their penetration into the secrets of
the theory of sound.

As appeals, however, to the sense of sound, the great festivals of the
Bongo abound with measures much more thrilling than any of these minor
performances. On those occasions the orchestral results might perhaps
be fairly characterised as cat’s music run wild. Unwearied thumping of
drums, the bellowings of gigantic trumpets, for the manufacture of
which great stems of trees come into requisition, interchanged by fits
and starts with the shriller blasts of some smaller horns, make up the
burden of the unearthly hubbub which re-echoes miles away along the
desert. Meanwhile, women and children by the hundred fill gourd-flasks
with little stones, and rattle them as if they were churning butter:
or again, at other times, they will get some sticks or dry faggots and
strike them together with the greatest energy. The huge wooden tubes
which may be styled the trumpets of the Bongo are by the natives
themselves called “manyinyee;” they vary from four to five feet in
length, being closed at the extremity, and ornamented with carved work
representing a man’s head, which not unfrequently is adorned with a
couple of horns. The other end of the stem is open, and in an upper
compartment towards the figure of the head is the orifice into which
the performer blows with all his might. There is another form of
manyinyee which is made like a huge wine-bottle; in order to play upon
it, the musician takes it between his knees like a violoncello, and
when the build of the instrument is too cumbrous, he has to bend over
it as it lies upon the ground.

Little difference can be noticed between the kettle-drums of the Bongo
and those of most other North African negroes. A section is cut from
the thick stem of a tree, the preference being given to a tamarind
when it can be procured; this is hollowed out into a cylinder, one end
being larger than the other. The ends are then covered with two pieces
of goat-skin stripped of the hair, which are tightly strained and
laced together with thongs. At the nightly orgies a fire is invariably
kept burning to dry the skin and to tighten it when it has happened to
become relaxed by the heavy dews.

A great number of signal-horns may be seen made from the horns of
different antelopes; these are called “mangoal,” and have three holes
like small flutes, and in tone are not unlike fifes. There is one long
and narrow pipe cut by the Bongo out of wood which they call a
“mburrah,” and which has a widened air-chamber close to the
mouth-piece, very similar to the ivory signal-horns which are so
frequently to be seen in all the negro countries.

[Sidenote: BONGO SINGING.]

Difficult were the task to give any adequate description of the
singing of the Bongo. It must suffice to say that it consists of a
babbling recitative, which at one time suggests the yelping of a dog
and at another the lowing of a cow, whilst it is broken ever and again
by the gabbling of a string of words which are huddled up one into
another. The commencement of a measure will always be with a lively
air, and every one, without distinction of age or sex, will begin
yelling, screeching, and bellowing with all their strength; gradually
the surging of the voices will tone down, the rapid time will
moderate, and the song be hushed into a wailing, melancholy strain.
Thus it sinks into a very dirge, such as might be chanted at the
grave, and be interpreted as representative of a leaden and a frowning
sky, when all at once, without note of warning, there bursts forth the
whole fury of the negro throats; shrill and thrilling is the outcry,
and the contrast is as vivid as sunshine in the midst of rain.

Often as I was present at these festivities I never could prevent my
ideas from associating Bongo music with the instinct of imitation,
which belongs to men universally. The orgies always gave me the
impression of having no other object than to surpass in violence the
fury of the elements. Adequately to represent the rage of a hurricane
in the tropics any single instrument of course must be weak, poor, and
powerless, consequently they hammer at numbers of their gigantic drums
with powerful blows of their heavy clubs. If they would rival the
bursting of a storm, the roaring of the wind, or the splashing of the
rain, they summon a chorus of their stoutest lungs; whilst to depict
the bellowings of terrified wild beasts, they resort to their longest
horns; and to imitate the songs of birds, they bring together all
their flutes and fifes. Most characteristic of all, perchance, is the
deep and rolling bass of the huge “manyinyee,” as descriptive of the
rumbling thunder. The penetrating shower may drive rattling and
crackling among the twigs, and amid the parched foliage of the woods,
and this is imitated by the united energies of women and children, as
they rattle the stones in their gourd-flasks, and clash together their
bits of wood.

It remains still to notice some examples of the various handicrafts
which are practised by this people. Compared with other nations, the
Bongo are remarkable for the attention they give to basket-work. They
make (very much after the fashion of a coffee-bag) a strainer to
filter and clarify their “legyee,” which is a drink something like ale
fermented from sorghum. Baskets are roughly yet substantially made by
twining together the stems of the bamboo. As their first efforts in
this line, the natives are accustomed to make the circular envelopes
in which they pack their corn for exportation. They take the
coriaceous leaves of the Combreta and Terminaliæ, and by inserting the
petiole of one leaf into the laminæ of two others, they form strips of
leaves which in a few minutes are made into a kind of basket, equally
strong and flexible, which answers its purpose admirably.

Woven matting is very rarely found in use. The walls of every hut are
made of basket-work, as are the beehives, which are more often than
not under the shadow of some adjacent butter-tree. Generally these
hives are long cylinders, which midway have an opening about six
inches square. The yield of honey, wild or half-wild, is very large,
and of fine quality: the bees belong to the European species. The
aroma of the Gardenia flowers is retained to a very palpable degree,
but wherever the Candelabra-euphorbia happens to be abundant, the
honey partakes of the drastic properties of its poisonous milk, and
has been the cause of the natives being reproached with the intention
of poisoning the Nubians.

[Sidenote: BONGO FISHING.]

In consequence of the people being so much engrossed at certain
periods of the year by their hunting and fishing, the manufacture of
fish-nets, creels, and snares, makes an important item in their
industrial pursuits. For the most part all the twist, the bird-snares,
and the fishing-lines are made from the fibres of bast, which are so
plentiful in the cultivated Crotalaria and the Hibiscus. For inferior
purposes the common lime-like bast of the _Grewia mollis_ is made to
suffice. The _Sanseviera guineensis_ is not less abundant, but the
bast which it yields, although very fine, is not very enduring. It is
generally very black through having been left to lie upon the dark
soil of the marshes, and is only used for making a kind of kilt like a
horse’s tail, which the women wear behind from a girdle about their
waist. Cotton-shrubs are planted only by the Dinka, who make their
fishing-lines of the material which is thus provided.

The manufacture of the pottery all falls to the care of the women, who
do not shrink from the most difficult tasks, and, without the help of
any turning-wheel, succeed in producing the most artistic specimens.
The larger water-bottles are sometimes not less than a yard in
diameter. The clay water-pots are ordinarily of a broad oval shape,
adapted for being carried on the head with the narrow end resting on a
kind of porter’s knot, which is made either of leaves or plaited
straw. Handles are uniformly wanting: for, whatever may be the purpose
to which the vessels are applied, whether for holding water or oil,
for boiling or for baking, the material of which they are made
contains so large a quantity of mica (which the natives do not
understand how to get rid of), that it is very brittle, and the
imperfect baking in the open air contributes to this brittleness. To
compensate for the lack of handles by which the vessels might be
lifted, their whole outer surface is made rather rough by being
ornamented by a number of triangles and zigzag lines, which form all
manner of concentric and spiral patterns. The gourd-platters and
bottles are generally decorated with different dark rows of triangles.
A large amount of labour is expended upon the manufacture of clay
bowls for pipes, which are often really elaborate, and have generally
quite a European character; very often their design consists of a
human head, and these are so treasured as works of art, that their
possessors cannot be induced to part with them at any price.

The preparation of skins for leather aprons and similar purposes has
hitherto been limited amongst the Bongo, as probably amongst all the
heathen negroes, to the simplest mechanical process of kneading and
fulling by means of ashes and dung, which is followed up by a liberal
application of fat and oil till a sufficient degree of softness and
pliancy is attained. Recently from the Nubians the use of tan has
become generally known, and it may not unreasonably be conjectured
that the method of using it will gradually extend from the north of
Africa towards the south, in the same way as it has spread upwards
from the Cape. Previous to their contact with Europeans, none of the
southern people of Africa had discovered the use of tan, although the
skins of their animals were a very important item in their economy. In
Bongoland at present the bark of the Gere (_Hymenocardia Heudelotii_)
is what is most frequently employed, and the red tan it yields is
found to be very effectual.

[Illustration: Bongo.]

[Sidenote: BONGO PHYSIOGNOMY.]

We have now to notice the apparel and general external aspect of the
people, which is as important in its way as the outline of any natural
object, such as the growth and foliage of trees. In default of proper
clothing, various disfigurements of person play an important part, and
the savage is voluntarily even more of a slave to fashion than any of
the most refined children of civilization. Here, as in every other
quarter of the globe, the male sex desires to be externally
distinguished from the female, and they differ widely in their habits
in this respect. There is, however, one ugly custom which is common to
both sexes throughout the basin of the Gazelle, which consists in
snapping off the incisors of the lower jaw, an operation which is
performed as soon as the milk teeth have been thoroughly replaced by
the permanent. Upon the south borders of the country, near the
Niam-niam, this custom ceases to be exactly followed, and there it is
the habit, as with the Niam-niam themselves, instead of breaking them
off, to file some of the teeth, and indeed sometimes all of them, into
sharp points. Occasionally the natives file off the sides of the upper
teeth as well as clip off the lower; nor is it an uncommon thing for
gaps to be opened at the points of contact of the central upper teeth,
whilst every now and then individual cases occur where interstices
have been made in the sides of all the four front teeth large enough
to admit a good-sized toothpick. Circumcision is unknown throughout
the entire river-district.

The men do not go about in a condition so naked as either the Dyoor,
the Shillooks, or the Dinka, but they wear an apron of some sort of
skin, and recently have adopted a strip of stuff, which they fasten to
the girdle that is never missing, allowing the ends to hang over
before and behind. All the sons of the red soil, as the Bongo, the
Mittoo, the Niam-niam, and the Kredy, are called “women” by the Dinka,
because amongst them the females only are protected by any covering of
this description. The Bongo women on the other hand, and especially
those who reside on the highlands, obstinately refuse to wear any
covering whatever either of skin or stuff, but merely replenish their
wardrobe every morning by a visit to the woods; they are, therefore,
in respect of modesty, less particular than the women of the Dinka; a
supple bough with plenty of leaves, more often than not a bough of the
Combretum, and perhaps a bunch of fine grass, fastened to the girdle,
is all they consider necessary. Now and then a tail, like a black
horsetail, composed of the bast of the Sanseviera, is appended to the
back of the girdle in a way that has already been mentioned. The rest
of the body is allowed by both sexes to be entirely unclad, and no
addition to the costume is ever seen, except we should reckon the
feathered head-gear, which is exhibited on the occasion of a feast or
a ball.

As a rule the hair of both men and women is kept quite short, and not
unfrequently is very closely shorn, the principal exception being
found in the south, where the habits of the Niam-niam have extended
their influence into the Bongo territory, and both men and women wear
tufts and braids of a length approximating to that of their
neighbours.

[Illustration: Bongo Woman.]

[Sidenote: BONGO WOMEN.]

It may possibly be imagined that the extremely primitive covering of
the Bongo women irradiates them with something of the charm of
Paradise; but a very limited experience will soon dispel the rapture
of any illusion of the kind. All full-grown women attain such an
astounding girth of body, and acquire such a cumbrous superabundance
of flesh, that it is quite impossible to look at them without
observing their disproportion to the men. Their thighs are very often
as large as a man’s chest, and their measurement across the hips can
hardly fail to recall the picture in Cuvier’s Atlas of the now famous
“Hottentot Venus.” Shapes developed to this magnitude are no longer
the exclusive privilege of the Hottentots; day after day I saw them
among the Bongo, and they may well demand to be technically described
as “Steatopyga.” In certain attitudes, as for instance when they are
carrying their heavy water-jars upon their heads, they seem to assume
the shape of an inverted S. To their singular appearance the long
switch tail of bast very much contributes, and altogether the profile
of a fat Bongo woman is not unlike that of a dancing baboon. I can
vouch for it that women who weigh twenty stone are far from scarce.

Very few are the people of Central Africa amongst whom the partiality
for finery and ornaments is so strongly shown as with the Bongo. The
women wear on their necks an accumulation of cords and beads, and not
being fastidious like their neighbours, will put on without regard to
shape or colour, whatever the market of Khartoom can provide. The men
do not care much for this particular decoration, but prefer necklaces,
on which they string some of those remarkable little fragments of wood
which are so constantly found in every region of Africa. With the bits
of wood hang fragments of roots, which are in form something like the
mandrake, which, in Southern Europe, has been the subject of so
strange a superstition. Alternating with the roots and wood are the
talons of owls and eagles, the teeth of dogs, crocodiles, and jackals,
little tortoise-shells, the claws of the earth-pig (_Orycteropus_),
and in short any of those objects which we are accustomed to store in
the cabinets which adorn our _salons_. They appear to supply the place
of the extracts from the Koran which, wrapped in leather sheathes, the
Nubians wear by dozens about their person; anything in the shape of an
amulet being eagerly craved by every African.

[Sidenote: BONGO DECORATION.]

Not unfrequently the men deck themselves out in females’ ornaments.
Many cover the rims of their ears with copper rings and crescents;
others pierce the upper lip like the women, and insert either a
round-headed copper nail or a copper plate, or, what is still more
general, some rings or a bit of straw. The skin of the stomach above
the waist is often pierced by the men, and the incision filled up with
a bit of wood, or occasionally by a good-sized peg. On the wrist and
upper part of the arm they wear iron rings of every pattern; some
rings are cut out of elephant and buffalo hide, and look almost as
though they were made of horn. The “dangabor,” an ornament composed of
a series of iron rings, and worn on the lower portion of the arm, has
been already described.

The Bongo women delight in distinguishing themselves by an adornment
which to our notions is nothing less than a hideous mutilation. As
soon as a woman is married the operation commences of extending her
lower lip. This, at first only slightly bored, is widened by inserting
into the orifice plugs of wood gradually increasing in size, until at
length the entire feature is enlarged to five or six times its
original proportions. The plugs are cylindrical in form, not less than
an inch thick, and are exactly like the pegs of bone or wood worn by
the women of Musgoo. By this means the lower lip is extended
horizontally till it projects far beyond the upper, which is also
bored and fitted with a copper plate or nail, and now and then by a
little ring, and sometimes by a bit of straw about as thick as a
lucifer-match. Nor do they leave the nose intact: similar bits of
straw are inserted into the edges of the nostrils, and I have seen as
many as three of these on either side. A very favourite ornament for
the cartilage between the nostrils is a copper ring, just like those
that are placed in the noses of buffaloes and other beasts of burden
for the purpose of rendering them more tractable. The greatest
coquettes among the ladies wear a clasp or cramp at the corners of the
mouth, as though they wanted to contract the orifice, and literally to
put a curb upon its capabilities. These subsidiary ornaments are not
however found at all universally among the women, and it is rare to
see them all at once upon a single individual: the plug in the lower
lip of the married women is alone a _sine quâ non_, serving as it does
for an artificial distinction of race. According to the custom of the
people, there need only be a trifling projection of the skin so as to
form a flap or a fold, to be at once the excuse for boring a hole. The
ears are perforated more than any part, both the outer and the inner
auricle being profusely pierced; the tip of the ear alone is
frequently made to carry half-a-dozen little iron rings. There are
women in the country whose bodies are pierced in some way or other in
little short of a hundred different places.

The Bongo women limit their tattooing to the upper part of the arm.
Zigzag or parallel lines, or rows of dots, often brought into relief
by the production of proud flesh after the operation has been
accomplished, are the three forms which in different combinations
serve as marks of individual distinction. The men tattoo themselves
differently, and some of them abstain from the operation altogether.
At one time the lines run across the breast and stomach to one side of
the body; at another they are limited to the top of the arm, whilst it
is not at all unusual for the neck and shoulder-blades to be tattooed.

Besides the ornaments that I have mentioned, the toilet of a Bongo
lady is incomplete without the masses of iron and copper rings which
she is accustomed to wear on her wrists and arms, and more especially
on her ankles. These rings clank like fetters as she walks, and even
from a distance the two sexes can be distinguished by the character of
the sound that accompanies their movements. That human patience should
ever for the sake of fashion submit to a still greater martyrdom seems
almost incredible, though hereafter we shall have sufficient proof
when we delineate the habits of the Mittoo, the neighbours of the
Bongo, that such is really the case.

In Bongoland, as in all the northern parts of the territory that I
visited, copper of late years has attained a monetary value, and has
become an accustomed medium of exchange. Glass beads are annually
deteriorating in estimation, and have long ceased to be treasured up
and buried in the earth like jewels or precious stones, being now used
only to gratify female vanity. In former times, when the only
intercourse that the Bongo held with the Mohammedan world was by
occasional dealings with the Baggara Arabs, through the intervention
of the Dembo, a Shillook tribe connected with the Dyoor, cowrie-shells
were in great request, but these also have long since fallen out of
the category of objects of value. Gold and silver are very rarely used
as ornaments, even in the Mohammedan parts of the Eastern Soudan; it
is therefore hardly a matter of surprise that to the Bongo, whose soil
is singularly uniform in its geological productions, they should be
all but unknown. The Bongo, moreover, have but little value for brass,
differing greatly in this respect from their neighbours, the Dyoor.

[Sidenote: BONGO WEAPONS.]

Their weapons consist mainly of lances, bows and arrows, shields being
very rarely used, and even then being appropriated from other
neighbouring nations. Although the greater part of the population is
at present quite unaccustomed to any warlike occupation, except when
any of them chance to be employed in the raids upon the Dinka or in
the Niam-niam campaigns, yet they still maintain a wonderful dexterity
in the use of the bow and arrow, and we shall have occasion in another
place to notice their performances in this respect. The large size of
their weapons is remarkable; I saw many of their bows which were four
feet in length, their arrows are rarely under three feet long, and on
this account they are never made from the light reed-grass, but are
cut out of solid wood. The forms of the arrow-heads also have a
decided nationality stamped upon them. In the course of time I was
easily able to determine at a glance the tribe to which any weapon
belonged by certain characteristics, the details of which would now
engross more time and space than are at our command. It may be
mentioned that the Bongo, like the negroes above Fesoglu, on the Upper
Blue Nile, imbue their arrows with the milky juice of one of the
Euphorbiæ. This species, of which I now for the first time collected
some specimens, has been erroneously represented by Tremaux in the
atlas of his travels[35] as _Euphorbia mamillaris_, but it is in fact
one of the many Cactus-euphorbiæ for which the flora of Tropical
Africa, and especially that of the drier regions, is distinguished,
and is entirely distinct from the South African species. It is a
branching, straggling shrub, varying in height from five to eight
feet, at one time growing in large masses in the light woods, and then
failing altogether for the space of several days’ journey. Not only
the larger branches, nearly two inches thick, but also the smaller
boughs, are encrusted with a snowy white rind, covered with thick
spiny protuberances, which stand singly under the eyes of the leaves.
At the extremity of each bough is a bunch of fleshy succulent leaves,
shaped like lances, and six inches in length. This species of
Cactus-euphorbia (_E. venefica_) is termed by the Bongo “bolloh,” in
contradistinction to “kakoh,” their name for the larger sort (_E.
candelabrum_), which is common in the country, but of which the milky
juice is far less dangerous than that of the “bolloh,” for if this be
applied in a fresh condition to the skin, it results in a violent
inflammation. It is, however, my opinion that this juice, as it is
used by the Bongo, being spread in a hard mass over the barbs and
heads of the arrows, can do very little harm to the wounded, as when
it is once hard it is difficult to melt, and there cannot possibly be
time for it to commingle with the blood after a wound has been made by
an arrow.

[Sidenote: BONGO GAMES.]

We may now turn our attention to the Bongo games, which are as
original and primitive as their music. One of these games, as forming
excellent training for the chase, deserves some especial notice. A
number of men are provided with pointed sticks made of hard wood,
which they use as lances. They form a large ring, and another man who
has a piece of soft wood attached to a long string, runs round and
round within the circle. The others then endeavour with their pointed
sticks to hit the mark whilst it is being carried rapidly round. As
soon as it is struck it falls to the ground, and the successful
marksman is greeted with a loud cheer. Another game requires no less
calmness and dexterity. A piece of wood bent into a crescent has a
short string attached to the middle; this wood is then hurled by the
one end of it with such violence to the earth that it goes spinning
like a boomerang through the air. The players stand face to face at a
distance of about twenty feet apart, and the game consists in catching
the wood by the string, a performance that requires no little skill,
as there is considerable danger of receiving a sharp knock. Both games
might, under some modifications, admit of being adopted into our rural
sports.

Turning now to the national manners, customs, and ideas, I profess
that they are subjects of which I must treat with considerable
reserve, since my residence as a stranger for two years amongst these
savages only gave me after all a very superficial insight into the
mysteries of their inner life. Since, however, the accounts of
eye-witnesses, who knew the land in its primitive condition, seem to
accord with and to corroborate my own observations, as well as the
information I obtained from the Bongo themselves, I am in a position
to depose to some facts, of which I must leave the scientific analysis
to those who are seeking to cultivate the untried soil of the
psychology of nations.

Elsewhere, and among other nations with whom I became acquainted, the
number of a man’s wives was dependent on the extent of his
possessions, but amongst the Bongo it seemed to be limited to a
maximum of three. Here, as in other parts of Africa, a wife cannot be
obtained for nothing, even the very poorest must pay a purchase price
to the father of the bride in the form of a number of plates of iron;
unless a man could provide the premium, he could only get an old woman
for a wife. The usual price paid for a young girl would be about ten
plates of iron weighing two pounds each, and twenty lance tips.
Divorces, when necessary, are regulated in the usual way, and the
father is always compelled to make a restitution of at least a portion
of the wedding-payment. If a man should send his wife back to her
father, she is at liberty to marry again, and with her husband’s
consent she may take her children with her; if, however, her husband
retains the children, her father is bound to refund the entire
wedding-gift that he received. This would be the case although ten
years might have elapsed since the marriage. The barrenness of a woman
is always an excuse for a divorce. In cases of adultery, the husband
endeavours to kill the seducer, and the wife gets a sound flogging.
Whoever has been circumcised according to the Mohammedan law, cannot
hope to make a good match in Bongoland.

A Bongo woman, as a rule, will seldom be found to have less than five
children: the usual number is six, and the maximum twelve. In
childbirth she is supported with her arms on a horizontal beam, and is
in that position delivered of the child; the navel-cord is cut very
long with a knife, and always without a ligature. No festivities are
observed on the occasion of a birth. The infants are carried on the
mothers’ backs, sewn up in a bag of goat’s-hide, like a water-bottle.
The children are kept at the breast until they have completed their
second year, weaning being never thought of until they can be trusted
to run about. In order to wean a child, the mother’s breast is smeared
with some acrid matter, and the bruised leaves of some of the
_Capparidæ_ are mixed with water to a pulp, and have the effect of
drying up the milk.

Among the Bongo and the neighbouring nations there is a custom,
manifestly originating in a national morality, that forbids all
children that are not at the breast to sleep in the same hut with
their parents; the Bongo in this respect putting to shame many of
those who would boast of their civilization. The elder children have a
hut appropriated to themselves, but take their meals with the rest of
the family. In addition to this custom there is the universal rule, as
with ourselves, that no matrimonial alliance takes place until the
youths are about eighteen and the girls about fifteen years of age.

[Sidenote: BONGO EXEQUIES.]

In the disposal of their dead, the customs of the Bongo are very
remarkable. Immediately after life is extinct, the corpses are placed,
like the Peruvian mummies, in what may be described as a crouching
posture, with the knees forced up to the chin, and are then firmly
bound round the head and legs. When the body has been thus compressed
into the smallest possible compass, it is sewn into a sack made of
skins, and placed in a deep grave. A shaft is sunk perpendicularly
down for about four feet, and then a niche is hollowed to the side, so
that the sack containing the corpse should not have to sustain any
vertical pressure from the earth which is thrown in to fill up the
grave. This form of interment is also prescribed in the law of Islam,
which, in this and many other cases, has probably followed an African
custom. The Bongo have a striking practice, for which, perhaps, some
reason may be assigned, of burying men with the face turned to the
north and women to the south. After the grave is filled in, a heap of
stones is piled over the spot in a short cylindrical form, and this is
supported by strong stakes, which are driven into the soil all round.
On the middle of the pile is placed a pitcher, frequently the same
from which the deceased was accustomed to drink his water. The graves
are always close to the huts, their site being marked by a number of
long forked branches, carved, by way of ornament, with numerous
notches and incisions, and having their points sharpened like horns.
Of these votive stakes I saw a number varying from one to five on each
grave. The typical meaning belonging to these sticks has long since
fallen into oblivion, and notwithstanding all my endeavours to become
acquainted with the Bongo, and to initiate myself into their manners
and customs, I could never discover a satisfactory explanation. The
sticks reminded me of the old English finance-budgets in the time of
William the Conqueror. In answer to my inquiries, the Khartoomers
merely returned the same answer as they did to my predecessor,
Heuglin; they persisted in saying that every notch denoted an enemy
killed in battle by the deceased. The Bongo themselves, however,
repeatedly declared that such was by no means the case, and quite
repudiated the idea that they should ever think of thus perpetuating
the bloodthirstiness of the dead. The neighbouring Mittoo and Madi
adopt very much the same method of sepulture. The memorial-urns
erected over the graves of the Musgoo remind the traveller of those of
the Bongo. Whenever a burial takes place, all the neighbours are
invited to attend, and are abundantly entertained with merissa. The
entire company takes part in the formation of the grave, in the
rearing of the memorial-urn, and in the erection of the votive stakes.
When the ceremony is finished, they shoot at the stakes with arrows,
which they leave sticking in the wood. I often noticed arrows that had
been thus shot still adhering to the sticks.

The Bongo have not the remotest conception of immortality. They have
no more idea of the transmigration of souls, or any doctrine of the
kind, than they have of the existence of an ocean. I have tried
various ways and means of solving the problem of their inner life, but
always without success. Although the belief in immortality may be
indigenous to Africa, I should question whether the ancient Egyptians
did not in their religious development obey the promptings of the
Asiatic East. At any rate, those statements are incorrect which would
endeavour to explain the dull resignation displayed by the victims of
human sacrifice in Dahomey by a theory of their belief in immortality.
All religion, in our sense of the word religion, is quite unknown to
the Bongo, and, beyond the term “loma,” which denotes equally luck and
ill-luck, they have nothing in their language to signify any deity or
spiritual being. “Loma” is likewise the term that they use for the
Supreme Being, whom they hear invoked as “Allah” by their oppressors,
and some of them make use of the expression, “loma-gobo,” _i. e._, the
superior, to denote the God of the “Turks.” The almost incomprehensible
prayers of the Mohammedans are called by the Bongo “malah,” which has
evidently some connection with the word “Allah” that is generally
repeated over and over again in all the devotions of the Nubians.

If any one is ill, his illness is attributed to “Loma,” but in the
event of anybody losing a wager or a game, or returning from a hunting
adventure without game, or coming back from war without booty, he is
said to have had “no loma” (loma nya), in the sense of having no luck.

[Sidenote: BONGO SUPERSTITION.]

Quite amazing is the fear which exists among the Bongo about ghosts,
whose abode is said to be in the shadowy darkness of the woods.
Spirits, devils, and witches have the general appellation of
“bitaboh;” wood-goblins being specially called “ronga.” Comprehended
under the same term are all the bats (especially the _Megaderma
frons_, which flutters about from tree to tree in broad daylight), as
likewise are owls of every kind (_Strix leucotis_ and _Strix capensis_
being here the chief); and besides these the Ndorr (_Galago
senegalensis_), a kind of pseudo-simia, with great red eyes and erect
ears, which drags out a gloomy existence in the cavities of hollow
trees. There are, too, prowling beasts of night, for which they
entertain the utmost dread, regarding them with superstitious awe. To
ward off the evil influences of these spirits, the Bongo are
acquainted with no other means except the magical roots in which the
professional sorcerers trade, in a similar way as the Mohammedan
priests of the Soudan in their amulets and sentences from the Koran.
Very seldom are any attempts made to expel the spirits by the means of
exorcism, which is turned to great account by the Dinka magicians. The
institution of the “Cogyoor” is here called “belomah,” but whenever it
is necessary to have an invocation over a sick patient, they more
often than not send for a professional wizard from the neighbouring
Dinka.

Good spirits are quite unrecognised, and, according to the general
negro idea, no benefit can ever come from a spirit at all. They affirm
that the only thing they know about spirits is that they do mischief,
and certain it is that they have no conception either of there being a
Creator, or any kind and ruling power above. They assert that there is
no other resource for obtaining communication with spirits, except by
means of certain roots, which may be of service likewise in employing
the powers of evil to inflict injury on others. To their knowledge of
this magic may be attributed much of the influence which the native
chiefs, independently of their authorised rule, exercise over the mass
of the people in their districts. This may be witnessed among the Bary
on the Bahr-el-Gebel, and a hundred other tribes, who yield the
greatest deference to the controllers or captains of their
communities. The practice of fetching down rain is never pretended to
by the Bongo chiefs, and may be said to be absolutely unknown; but
probably this may rise from the climate so rarely making it necessary
to put their skill in this respect to the test.

[Sidenote: BELIEF IN WITCHES.]

All the very old people of either sex, but especially the old women,
are exposed to the suspicion of allying themselves to wicked spirits,
for the purpose of effecting the injury and detriment of others. Old
folks, so the Bongo maintain, wander through the forest-glades at
night, and have only to secure the proper roots, and then they may
apparently be lying calmly in their huts, whilst in reality they are
taking counsel with the spirits of mischief how they can best bring
their neighbours to death and destruction. They dig for roots, it is
continually said, that they may have the means of poisoning those
around them. Whenever any case of sudden death occurs, the aged people
are held responsible, and nothing, it is taken for granted, could be
more certain than that a robust man, except he were starved, would not
die. Woe to the old crones, then, in whose house the suspected herbs
and roots are found! though they be father or mother, they have no
chance of escape.

A genuine and downright belief in witches has long been and still
continues as deeply seated here as in any spot upon the face of the
earth, and nowhere are prosecutions more continually being instituted
against them. As matter of fact, I can affirm that really aged folks
among the Bongo are comparatively scarce, and that the number of
grey-headed people is, by contrast, surprisingly large amongst the
neighbouring race of the Dyoor, who put no faith at all in any
witchcraft. The Nubians are not only open to superstitions of their
own, but confirm the Bongo in all of theirs. In the Eastern Soudan,
which is a Mohammedan country, the conversation will constantly turn
upon the “sáhara” (_i. e._, the witches), and no comparison is more
frequent than that which likens the old women to hyænas: in fact, many
of the people hold hard and fast to the conviction that the witches
are capable of going out at night, and taking up their quarters inside
the bodies of these detestable brutes, without any one being aware of
what is happening. It chanced, during my stay in Gallabat, that I
killed one out of a herd of hyænas that was infesting the district; my
fate, in consequence, was to be loaded with reproaches on the part of
the Sheikh, who informed me that his mother was a “hyæna-woman,” and
that I might, for all I could tell, have shot her. After this I was
not so surprised as might be expected when Idrees, the governor of
Ghattas’s Seriba, boasted in my presence of his conflicts with
witches, bragging that in one day he had had half a dozen of them
executed. An occasion shortly afterwards arose, when Idrees was
contemplating putting two old women to death at the desire of some
Bongo, and the only scheme I could devise to make him desist from his
purpose, was by threatening him that, in the event of the women being
executed, I would poison his water-springs.

But, in this dread of witches, the whole superstition of the Bongo
culminates and exhausts itself; and we Europeans may well ask what
real right have we, with all our advancement in knowledge, to presume
to reproach them? We cannot resist the impression that these poor
Bongo are infinitely more free from hundreds of superstitious
fallacies than many of those who boast of their civilization; much
more so, for instance, than the Mohammedans of the Soudan, where the
idlest of superstitions prevail in every household. Let nature be
free, and the germs of energy in man’s spirit will develop themselves,
without overstepping their proper limits, in trustful dependence upon
the presiding spirit which controls all thought. That the spirit of
man, moreover, revolves in a circle, is demonstrated by the old man
becoming again a child. A philosopher might fairly speculate (in the
spirit of Bernardin de St. Pierre, when he advocated a worship of
Nature) whether this land would not have been happier if the Moslems
had never set foot upon its soil. They brought a religion that was
destitute of morality; they introduced contagion rather than
knowledge; they even suppressed the true doctrines of Mohammed their
prophet, which would have enfranchised the very people whom they
oppressed, and have raised them to a condition of brotherhood, and of
equality.

[Sidenote: BONGO SURGERY.]

The method of proceeding among the Bongo with the sick and wounded is
invariably of the very simplest character. When the disorder is
internal, and the origin cannot be detected, the treatment consists
merely in liberal applications of very hot water. The patient is
stretched upon the ground, and sprinkled by means of leafy boughs with
boiling water from vessels that are placed close by. Somewhat more
expert is their proceeding in the case of the wounded. It once chanced
that I saw a group of sufferers brought back from one of the raids
that had been made into the territory of the Dinka. The wounds had
nearly all been inflicted by the lances of the adversary. With
remarkable fortitude the patients all submitted to the practice of the
country, which consisted in the introduction of a number of setons,
made of the strong and fibrous bast of the grewia, into the injured
parts, in order to reduce the inflammation. Amongst others, I saw a
knee, which was immensely swollen, subject to the operation of being
pierced in every direction by setons of this sort, until it was larded
like a roast hare. With the exception of red ochre the Bongo, like
most of their neighbours, are not acquainted with any mineral which
they can apply to a wound, either as a reduceut or an antiseptic. As
medicines to accelerate the natural processes of cure, they make use
of the astringent bitter barks of certain trees like the Hymenocardia,
the Butyrospermum, and the Prosopis, which are here known as the
“gere,” the “kor,” and the “göll.” Syphilis, which now makes its
insidious progress, was quite unknown amongst these poor savages
previous to the settlement amongst them of the Nubians, and against
its mischief the only specific employed is the bitter bark of the
Heddo-tree (_Anogeissus_), one, however, which undoubtedly is utterly
useless for the purpose.

The misshapen and crippled are entirely unknown amongst these
unsophisticated children of Nature. But in a country where, even with
the best attention on the part of a mother, every child must be
exposed to the perils which necessarily are associated with existence
in a wilderness, how should it be possible for a cripple to stand out
the battle of life? As freaks of nature, every now and then there may
be seen some dwarfs, and I presume that some mutes may occasionally be
found, as there is a word (“mabang”) in their language to express the
defect in the faculty of speech.

The insane (“bindahko”) are shackled hand and foot; and avowedly with
the design of cooling and soothing their passions, they are thrown
into the river, where they are immersed by practised swimmers. If this
remedy should prove of no effect, the patient is put into confinement,
and dieted by the relatives; but generally the lot of a maniac is far
happier than that which befalls an aged man, however innocent. To
maintain the strength of invalids, certain kinds of flesh are
prescribed, and a particular value is attributed to the flesh of the
Gullukoo (_Tmetoceros abyssinicus_), a kind of rhinoceros hornbill,
which has a detestable flavour, as odious as hemlock.

The dialect of the people throughout the whole country exhibits very
little diversity; the best evidence for this is afforded by the
perfect uniformity of expression in every part of the land for all
natural objects whatever; whilst even in dealing with conceptions of
an abstract character, there is little fear of being misunderstood.
The language altogether has a harmonious ring, abounding in the vowel
sounds of _a_ and _o_, as the name of the people indicates; it is very
simple in its grammatical structure, and at the same time it presents
a great variety of terms for all concrete subjects. The vocabulary
that I compiled contained nearly one thousand distinct expressions.

[Sidenote: BONGO DIALECT.]

The etymology of connected words and the analysis of separate idioms
afford considerable interest, and transport the student right into the
ingenuous world of their natural life. The more common of our abstract
ideas such as _spirit_, _soul_, _hope_, and _fear_, appear to be
absolutely wanting, but experience shows that in this respect other
negro tongues are not more richly provided by nature. The labours of
missionaries in translating the Scriptures have notoriously introduced
into the written language a number of elevated idioms and of
metaphorical ideas which very probably in a few generations may be
more or less incorporated into the tongue, but to the student of
language who shall make the gleanings these introductions will be a
mere refuse, and the only subject of any scientific interest will be
the speech of the people as it was while it remained intact and
unaffected by innovation.

Instances of the indirect method which is employed on the part of the
Bongo to express any abstract idea may here be given. The monosyllable
“firr,” for example used in combination with other words, answers the
purpose of expressing any of the following ideas: will, love,
pleasure, taste, or speech. The true conception which would appear to
be the original force of the little word, is first the will, and then
the expression of that will by means of the tongue. The phrase for “I
wish it,” would be “firr nahamah,” which is literally, “The will is in
my stomach.”

Nor is it uninteresting to notice the various equivalents which are
found of one and the same word. “Mahee” means “lance” and “meat” in
general, and is a collective expression for antelopes of every kind;
“attamatta” is employed equally for what is “bitter” and what is
“annoying;” “dill” implies either a “shadow” or a “cloud;” “gimah” is
used indifferently for either “a son” or “a boy,” and “goah” for
either “a pit” or “deep.” “Helleleh” simply means “wind” or “air,” but
by reduplication “helleleh-helleleh,” implies whatever is “light.”
Either “rain” or “the sky” may be indicated by the word “hetorro,” and
“ndan” not merely signifies “night,” but is used for “to-day.” This
last mode of expression has been transferred from the African to the
Arabic of the Eastern Soudan, where “fee lehle” means either “by
night” or “this very day.”

The disposition which is ever manifested amongst the untutored
children of nature to represent certain animals by imitating the
sounds they utter, is extended amongst the Bongo to describe a variety
of inanimate object. As examples of this kind of nomenclature I may
mention “golongolo” as their name for a “bell,” “gohi” as their name
for a “cough,” “kulluluh” for a “ball,” and “marongonn” for “snoring.”
The name they give a “cat” is “mbriow” differing little in its
pronunciation from “mew.”

There is a kind of poetry which underlies many of their expressions,
and which invests some objects with a certain charm of indefiniteness;
thus for example they call a leaf “mbillee-kaggah,” “an ear of the
tree,” and a man’s chest they name “doah kiddi,” or “the capital of
the veins.”

The speech of a people is very often indicative of the predominating
character of their pursuits. By the name of “mony,” which originally
meant the common sorghum, which is the staple of their produce, the
Bongo, being an agricultural people, have come to denote not so much
the particular corn, as eatables of any description. They have,
moreover, adopted this word as the root of a verb which is conjugated.
In a way corresponding to this the Niam-niam, who are mainly addicted
to hunting, give a very comprehensive meaning to their word “push-yo,”
which signifies “meat.” Of almost infinite variety are the names of
the different individuals among the Bongo. I had opportunities of
making inquiries whilst I was measuring nearly a hundred of the
people, and I do not think that I found more than five names that
occurred more than once. As a regular rule parents name their children
after trees or animals, or some object in nature, and it is quite
exceptional for any personal peculiarity to be associated with the
appellation.

[Sidenote: INTERMINGLING OF RACES.]

In the labyrinth of African culture it is very difficult to
disentangle the hundred threads which lead up to the centre from which
they have been all unwound. Not a custom, not a superstition is found
in one part which is not more or less accurately repeated in another;
not one contrivance of design, not one weapon of war exists of which
it can be declared that it is exclusive property of any one race. From
north to south, and from sea to sea, in some form or other every
invention is sure to be repeated; it is “the thing that has been.” The
creative hand of Nature alone produces what is new. If we could at
once grasp and set before our minds facts that are known (whether as
regards language, race, culture, history, or development) of that vast
region of the world which is comprehended in the name of Africa, we
should have before us the witness of an intermingling of races which
is beyond all precedent. And yet, bewildering as the prospect would
appear, it remains a fact not to be gainsaid, that it is impossible
for any one to survey the country as a whole without perceiving that
high above the multitude of individual differences there is throned a
principle of unity which embraces well nigh all the population.

Such a conclusion has been amply borne out by the preceding
delineation of the Bongo, who form an element in that unity. We cannot
take a retrospect of the particulars which have been now detailed
about them, without the question arising as to which of the other
races of Central Africa most nearly resemble the Bongo. Any answer to
this question that could not be invalidated would afford hints
invaluable for the investigation of the latest movements among African
nations; but I must confess that I am only hazarding an opinion which
I cannot establish, when I name the countries about Lake Tsad as being
those in which the most marked similarity in habit to the Bongo might
be expected, and the tribes to which I would more particularly allude
are the Musgoo, the Massa, the Wandala, and the Loggon.

I conclude by repeating the comparison which I made at the beginning
between the existence of a people and a drop of water evaporating in
the sea. Ere long, the Bongo as a people will be quite forgotten,
superseded by a rising race. The time cannot be far off when this
race, so gifted and so impressionable, shall be known no more. The
domination over the people which is contemplated in Egypt cannot fail
to effect this result, and it is a destiny that probably awaits all
the rest of the African races. However much the Nubian may tyrannize,
he still leaves the poor natives a portion of their happiness. But
there is still a more distant future: after the Nubian comes the Turk,
and he takes all. Truly it is not without reason that the proverb
circulates in every district, “Where the Turk has been no grass will
grow.”


     FOOTNOTES:

     [28] Vide ‘Linguistische Ergebnisse einer Reise nach
     Central Afrika,’ by Dr. G. Schweinfurth. Berlin: Wiegandt
     and Hempsel, 1873.

     [29] An illustration of this contrivance appears in
     Petherick’s ‘Travels in Central Africa,’ vol. i. p. 255.

     [30] For a pictorial representation of this scene, vide
     vol. ii.

     [31] Vide Petherick, ‘Egypt, the Soudan,’ &c., p. 395.

     [32] Vide Chap. V. p. 206, _seq._

     [33] The woodcut represents a vertical section of one of
     these smelting-ovens.

     [34] Petherick in his ‘Travels,’ vol. i. p. 164, refers to
     this shrub, and designates one of its branches by the name
     of “ebony.”

     [35] Tremaux: ‘Voyage Pittoresque au Soudan.’ Tab. XIV.




                             CHAPTER VIII.

  Calamities by fire. Deliverance and escape. Six women-slaves burnt.
     Barterings. Domestication of wild-cats. Plague of cockroaches.
     Pillen-wasps. Agamæ and chameleons. Fever. Meteorology. Solar
     phenomenon. A festal reception with an unfortunate result.
     Disturbance of rest at night. Murmuring of prayers. Jewish
     school. Orgies and drum-beating. Casting out devils. Resolve
     to follow Aboo Sammat. Start towards the south. Passage of the
     Tondy. Character of the forest. The water-bock. Scenery by
     night. Shereefee’s attack. Seriba Duggoo. Consequences of the
     steppe-burning. Seriba Dagguddoo. Burnt human bones and charred
     huts. Tropics in winter. Two kinds of ant-hills. Arrival in
     Sabby. Nocturnal festivities of the Bongo. Desolation of the
     country. Goat-suckers. Abundance of game. The zebra-ichneumon.
     The spectral mantis. Lions. Wonderful chase after hartebeests.
     Snake and antelope at a shot.


So satisfactory was the condition of my health that it appeared to me
entirely to confute the opinion entertained by Europeans that a
prolonged residence in the tropics is destructive alike of physical
and moral energy. For those probably who live in indolent repose, and
who are surrounded by all the appliances of domestic comfort, who, so
far from undertaking the trouble of a journey, have scarcely the
activity to take a walk, there may be some ground for the presumption;
and more particularly may this be the case in Mohammedan countries
where slothfulness and _laissez faire_ are as contagious as gaping is
all the world over. But nothing of the kind is to be found for a
traveller whose elasticity is kept at all on the stretch, and who is
conscious of not having a minute to spare; the exercise of his
faculties will keep them in vigour as full as though he were still on
his native soil. For my own part, I could not help thinking of the
contrast between the rainy season which I spent here and that which,
in 1865, I had passed in Gallabat; now all was animated and cheerful;
life seemed free from care; my health was unimpaired, and I enjoyed
the most intimate converse with Nature; but then, on the contrary, it
had been a perpetual struggle between getting well and getting ill,
and I had never ceased to be haunted by the depressing influences of a
weary spirit.

However happily my time in the Seriba glided on, still it was not
altogether free from peril. An incident full of alarm occurred to me
on the night of the 22nd of May. The rain was coming down in torrents,
and about two hours after midnight a tremendous storm ensued. The
thunderclaps rattling through the woods sounded like an avalanche, and
coming rapidly one upon another, seemed to keep pace with the
lightning which gleamed through the darkness of the night. Suddenly
there was a shrieking of women’s voices, and at the same instant the
blackness of night was changed to the light of day, as the blaze of a
burning hut flared up aloft. The flaming structure was only separated
from my own quarters by my single granary. Aroused by the outcry I
sprang up; for to be caught asleep in an edifice constructed of straw
and bamboo is to be enveloped in fire, and is almost certain death.
The hazard was very imminent; in a very few minutes my hut must
apparently be in flames; the work of demolition began at once; my
powder was conveyed without delay to a place of safety; my chests and
my herbarium were then secured; all the smaller articles of my
furniture were thrown into great waterproof coverings and dragged out
_en masse_. Perhaps about half of my property had thus been placed out
of jeopardy when we observed that the wind bore the flames in a
different direction, and fortunately the light framework of the
burning roof gave way and it soon fell in; saturated as the straw was
with the rain it put a check to the further spreading of the flames.
Now was the time to draw our breath and look around; we could now give
over our hurry and scurry, and examine the real condition of things. I
stood almost petrified at the reflection how narrowly I had escaped
coming to utter grief on this unlucky night; I thought how deplorable
had been my lot if I had been reduced to a condition of nakedness and
want in this inhospitable land; I became alive to the sense of shame
with which I should have retraced my way back to Khartoom within a
year, and with my task unfinished; I was dispirited; I knew not what
might happen, and perhaps this fire was only a prelude to yet more
bitter experience.

[Sidenote: KILLED BY LIGHTNING.]

The tokkul which had been burnt down was hardly five-and-twenty paces
from my very bed. There, struck by lightning, six female slaves had
met their simultaneous death; a seventh had been untouched by the
electric fluid, and had contrived, half dead from burning, to effect
an escape from the flaming pile. When a clearance was made on the next
morning, after the ashes had been removed, the bodies of the ill-fated
women were found completely charred, lying closely packed together
just as they had gone to sleep in the hut around its centre support,
which had been the conductor of the lightning. They formed a ghastly
spectacle, at which even the native negroes could not suppress a
shudder, whilst the recently imported Niam-niam slaves made no
disguise of the relish with which they scented the odour of the burnt
flesh, as they helped to clear away the _débris_. Scarcely any
incident could befall a traveller more disquieting than this; it had
haunted me in my dreams all through my sojourn in the Soudan;
forebodings of it had stuck to my fancy, and now it appeared to be
well-nigh on the very point of literal fulfilment.

One of the Nubian soldiers had, amongst the six victims of the
conflagration, to bewail the loss of his sweetheart. To such a degree
did this bereavement prey upon him that he entirely lost his reason,
and so gave a considerable amount of trouble to the occupants of the
Seriba. An instance of affection like this never came to my knowledge
elsewhere in these districts.

As far as regards danger from fire, the settlement here was at a
disadvantage when compared with various Seribas in which the huts are
not crowded so closely together; but in other respects, such as the
more complete security of the territory itself, the abundance of
provisions, the rareness of mosquitoes, and the small number of white
ants, this Seriba had recommendations which put every other in the
shade. Very advantageous was the appearance at my door, morning after
morning, of the neighbouring Dinka, who brought every variety of their
productions for me to purchase. In this way I was kept amply provided
not only with yams and earthnuts, the purest of oil and the finest of
honey, but I was able readily to obtain all the corn I required for my
retinue. Moreover, it happened not unfrequently that I had some
natural production offered me of considerable rarity, and thus the
edge of my botanical curiosity was kept continually sharpened. In the
very depth of the rainy season by getting the eggs of some geese and
bustards, and even of some ostriches, I managed to counterbalance the
meagre produce of my poultry-breeding.

[Sidenote: SPEKE AND BAKER’S TRAVELS.]

Of these opportunities of seeing considerable numbers of the natives
gathered round me, I made the best use I could to obtain the
measurements of their bodies, an achievement on which I had set my
mind with some degree of pertinacity. At the end of one year’s
residence in the interior I had made a synopsis (under about forty
heads) of the measurements of nearly two hundred individuals, but
unfortunately very few of my memoranda are now forthcoming. During my
intercourse with the natives I very often allowed what pictures I had
to be exhibited, in order to satisfy their repeated inquiries. All
they saw stirred up their unfeigned delight, and continually prompted
them to ask in astonishment why they had not learnt the same things
from the “Turks,” and to express their conviction that that must be a
wonderful country where tools and guns were made. The indolent
Nubians, too, would pay me visits most assiduously till I was
absolutely weary of them. They would often make their appearance quite
early and I could only disengage myself from them by letting them have
my books and pictures about Africa to look through. The illustrations
in ‘Le Tour du Monde,’ in Speke’s ‘Travels,’ and in Baker’s ‘Hunting
Adventures,’ all alike furnished them with inexhaustible material for
question and answer. They shouted their approbation aloud, and crowned
their admiring estimate of any picture by crying out “bazyatoo” (the
very facsimile), again and again. The name which Speke’s book acquired
in the Seriba was ‘The History of King Kamrasi,’ while they called
Baker’s work ‘The Book of the Elephant Hunter.’

In the beginning of September I was able to make a despatch to the
river of my treasures I had collected, and to forward them by way of
Khartoom to Europe. I had upwards of forty packages, and to put them
together and make them secure was the business of a good many days.
Particularly laborious was it to sew them all upon skins, and still
more laborious, I do not doubt, to rip them up again when they reached
their destination; for during their transit across the parching
desert, the hides are not unfrequently so dried up that they become as
hard as tin. For the protection of my packages and to prevent the
botanical contents being invaded by insects or gnawed by rats, I had
no difficulty in providing the caoutchouc substance of the Carpodinus,
the “Mono” of the Bongo. This I obtained in a fresh condition, when it
has the appearance of a well-set cream, and washed it lightly over the
linen or the paper like a varnish. Not an insect found its way through
this coating, and my packages all arrived thoroughly uninjured in
spite of their being a twelvemonth on their way. Less adapted for the
purpose I found both the milky sap of the fig and of the butter tree,
because it is not so uniform in its character and does not admit of
being spread so readily.

The produce of Ghattas’s Company was this year four hundred loads,
being somewhere about 220 cwt., which would be worth in Khartoom
nearly 4000_l._ In order to reach this amount, certainly not less than
three hundred elephants had been destroyed, and probably considerably
more.

Although the ants at this spot did not abound in the wholesale way in
which they did in many other Seribas, there were nevertheless plenty
of inconveniences in my quarters, and like every other traveller I had
to get accustomed to them as soon as I could.

My want of space was a great difficulty. I was hardly at all better
off in the hut where I ordinarily lived than in an old overcrowded
lumber room. I had no cupboards and no small chests, and consequently
I was compelled to be ever packing up and unpacking my thousand bits
of property. The framework, of my own construction, which reached up
into the circular roof did something to increase my accommodation, and
I hung bags upon it containing my clothes and my linen, and a whole
host of little things besides I stuck into the straw thatch above.
Under such circumstances, no wonder that I had perpetual conflict with
rats, crickets, and cock-roaches, and that they were a constant source
of annoyance.

[Sidenote: NOXIOUS VERMIN.]

The only method which was really an effectual guarantee for the
protection of any articles from being gnawed to bits was to hang them
up; but whenever at nightfall I had any packages which could not be
suspended there was one device of which I made use, and which was
tolerably successful in keeping rats at a distance. One of the
commonest animals hereabouts was the wild cat of the steppes (_Felis
maniculata_). Although the natives do not breed them as domestic
animals, yet they catch them separately when they are quite young and
find no difficulty in reconciling them to a life about their huts and
enclosures, where they grow up and wage their natural warfare against
the rats. I procured several of these cats, which, after they had been
kept tied up for several days, seemed to lose a considerable measure
of their ferocity and to adapt themselves to an indoor existence so as
to approach in many ways to the habits of the common cat. By night I
attached them to my parcels, which were otherwise in jeopardy, and by
this means I could go to bed without further fear of any depredations
from the rats.

Quite helpless, however, did I appear with regard to the devastations
of the crickets, which found their way through my stoutest chests, ate
holes into all my bags, and actually fretted my very wearing-apparel
and body-linen. Subsequently I received a supply of borax, and this
turned out to be an adequate security against their mischief.

The encroachment of the wood-worms in the bamboos which composed my
hut developed itself into a nuisance of a fresh sort. To myself it was
a matter of great indifference whether the building collapsed sooner
or later, but just at present it was a great annoyance to me that all
day long there should be an unceasing shower of fine yellow dust,
which accumulated on everything till it lay as thick as my finger, and
almost exceeded the bounds of endurance.

Another noxious insect which was to be found in every hut was the
Pillen-wasp (_Eumenes tinctor_). This was nearly two inches long, and
had a habit of forming its nest in the straw right at the top of the
circular roof. Associated with eight or ten others it made a huge
cell, and flying in and out through the narrow doorway, which was the
only avenue for light, it came into constant collision with my face.
Its sting was attended by distracting agony far worse than the sting
of any bee. Throughout the entire year I was baffled by these wasps,
which were beautiful in colour, having wings of a fine violet blue. I
made many attempts to destroy their ingeniously-constructed nest, and
only succeeded after catching them in a butterfly-net and killing them
one by one.

Throughout the tropics the harmless kinds of lizards may invariably be
reckoned amongst the settlers in every house. Prettily marked skinks
(_Euprepes quinquelineatus_ and _E. pleurostictus_) enlivened my
abode, whilst the graceful gecko (_Hemidactylus verrucalutus_)
clambered up and down the walls just as frequently as in Egypt and in
Nubia. But more numerous than all were the sociable agamæ (_Agama
colonorum_), which kept nodding their heads, in a way that was
extremely irritating to the Mohammedans, who fancied that it was the
devil making fun of their prayers. I had previously repeatedly seen
this species of the lizard in the overhanging rocky crags of the
desert valleys on the Egyptian coast of the Red Sea; but here it
appeared to lodge itself quite as freely in the huts as in the woods.
The head of the male is of an orange-colour, and is easily detected
from a considerable distance. Very ridiculous are their movements when
any one approaches a tree upon which they are running up and down.
They betake themselves to the farther side of the stem, and keep
stopping at intervals, peeping out cunningly first from one branch and
then from another, their large eyes beaming with a most knowing
expression. Their favourite resort, however, in this district was the
old woodwork of the palisades, and there they mustered in thousands.

I was very much surprised, at the beginning of the rainy season, at
the large number of chameleons which at intervals clustered themselves
upon the sprouting foliage. The common African sort grows to a very
unusual size, and I saw several which could hardly be less than ten
inches long. Scarcely less abundant is the smaller and slimmer species
(_C. lævigatus_), which does not exhibit quite to the same extent the
changes of its colour. Rolling its eyes in a very remarkable manner it
answered the same purpose as the agama, with its nodding head, of
getting up a joke against the Mohammedan fanatics. “What is a
chameleon like?” I used to ask them, and not over delighted were they
when they were told that the chameleon, with its one eye up and the
other eye down, was a faki looking up to God in heaven, but at the
same time keeping a sharp look-out upon the dollars of earth.

[Sidenote: VALUE OF QUININE.]

Thoroughly free, as I have said, from fever, during March and April, I
persevered in taking my daily dose of ten grains or more of quinine;
but as the heat diminished, and as the rainy season at its height was
not so full of miasma, I gradually diminished, and in June and July
entirely gave up my uniform administration of the tonic. But quinine
still remained my sole medicine, my only resort in every contingency.
If ever I got a chill, if ever I was wet through, or was troubled with
any symptoms of indigestion, I lost no time in using it, knowing that
for any traveller in a region such as this, any indisposition whatever
is simply a doorway through which fever insidiously creeps and effects
its dangerous lodgment. Any sudden giddiness in the head, or any spasm
between the shoulders, or any failure in the functions of the limbs
were all, I do not doubt, warnings of the ill-omened visitor, which I
accepted in time to avert. Not only, as I have remarked, were fevers
here quite common, but my own attendant, who had accompanied me from
Alexandria, was prostrated some days by a very serious attack, and his
condition of health was so much impaired that he had to be sent back
on the next return of the boats. There were others, too, of my own
people who had to endure attacks of less severity.

Expecting, as I had been, a much larger fall of rain, I could not be
otherwise than much surprised at the meteorological facts which were
actually exhibited. Although the rainfall extends over a longer
period, the total average fall of water is less here than it is either
in Gallabat or in Upper Sennaar, where the rain lasts only from the
beginning of May to the beginning of October. There the rain, almost
without exception, fell every night, and all night from sunset till
daybreak; but here it was the result of experience that the rain
ordinarily was to be expected between noon and night. All travelling
consequently has to be accomplished before midday, and the journeyings
are necessarily shorter than in the dry winter months. It may be taken
as a rule that holds good very generally throughout the tropics that
if the sun rises clear or becomes clear shortly after rising, there
will pretty certainly be no rain for some four or five hours. In
Gallabat it was considered rather a feat to walk during the rainy
season from one house to another either in slippers or in Turkish
shoes, but here, day after day, such protection for the soles of the
feet was quite sufficient, even where the ground was not at all rocky.

[Sidenote: CLIMATE AND TEMPERATURE.]

European vegetables in Gallabat had generally been found to suffer
from the excessive wet, and others had either run into weeds or in
some way degenerated, but here, from May till August, we cultivated
many sorts successfully, and made good use of the intervals which,
sometimes for four or six days together, passed without any rain
whatever. To confirm what I have said, I adduce the facts that in
March 1869, in the centre of Bongoland (lat. 7° 20´ N.), the “Khareef”
was opened by four little showers; in April there were seven
considerable pourings; in May seven falls of rain, lasting several
hours; in June ten, in July eleven, and in August twelve. These must
not be reckoned as days of rain, for the truth is, an entire day of
uninterrupted rain never once occurred. The rainfall only up to June
was attended by tempests or thunderstorms, after which date the
violence of them gradually and almost entirely abated. Heuglin in 1863
had made the same observation. At the end of July there ensued an
entire change of temperature, and only in exceptionally hot afternoons
did the heat ever again reach the extreme point which it had done
previously; but even at its maximum it had never exceeded 95° Fahr. in
the huts, whilst in the open air it was ordinarily 2° lower. I could
now rejoice in a degree of heat scarcely above what is common in our
northern zone, and seldom registered a temperature above 77° Fahr. in
my own quarters. This fall in the thermometer is very beneficial and
refreshing to the European, whose skin, exhausted by repeated
perspiration, is very often distressed by a perpetual nettlerash.

The earliest rain which I observed this year fell while I was still at
the Meshera on the 2nd of March; and the 16th of that month was the
date on which the wind altered its course, and for the first time
deviated from its long-prevailing north-easterly direction.

The uniformity of climate in equatorial Africa contributes very much
to extend the range of particular species of plants. To this may be
added the absence of those mountain systems which elsewhere, as in
Asia, traverse the continent in all directions. Without let or
hindrance the trade-winds exert their influence over the entire
breadth of this region. Any interruption of the rainy season between
the two zenith positions of the sun, which in Bongoland are some
months apart, has never been authenticated. Although upon the
north-west terraces of Abyssinia the rainy season might appear,
through the influence of the mountains, to be obliterated or obscure,
yet it could always be traced; but nevertheless the whole aggregate of
circumstances which contribute to these precedents is not to be
estimated during the transitory observations of one short sojourn.

Neither during the continuation of my wanderings towards the south did
I find any indication which seemed to evidence that two rainy seasons
had anywhere coalesced so as to become one continuous period of rain,
which sufficed throughout the year to maintain an uninterrupted
renewal of vegetation. Nowhere in the equatorial districts which I
visited (not even in the territory of the Monbuttoo, of which the
latitude is between 3° and 4° N.) did it appear that there ever failed
a uniform period for foliage to develop itself. Apparent exceptions
might be found where the condition of the soil is never otherwise than
wet throughout the year; but even in this low latitude there is a dry
season and a wet season, just as decided as in Nubia, twelve degrees
further to the north.

[Illustration: PHENOMENON ON THE 17ᵗʰ OF MAY 1869., HALF-PAST FIVE,
P.M. LAT 7° 25.´N.]

[Sidenote: SOLAR PHENOMENON.]

Between five and six o’clock on the afternoon of the 18th of May,
while I was absorbed in my writing, I was suddenly startled by the
outcry of a number of my people calling me to make haste out and
witness the singular appearance which was arresting their attention on
the south-west horizon. Great masses of clouds were covering the
declining sun, whilst all below the heavy cumulus the heavens gleamed
with the golden shimmer of a glorious sunset. Like a pile from the
mighty Alps, stern and imposing, surrounded by dazzling glaciers and
by many an avalanche, the central clouds of this great gathering
massed themselves in ponderous layers which rolled majestically to the
north. Starting out abruptly from the brilliant glare of the setting
sun, these layers on their upper edge distinctly assumed the form of
three vast swellings, while around the margin of each of these there
gleamed the light of an unearthly glory; colours of the richest hue
combined to give an effect as though each of the projecting
accumulations were circled by a rainbow. Midway between the vanishing
violet of the bow and the sombre ridge of cloud streamed a flood of
light which repeated itself upon the superior margin of the wondrous
spectrum. In three directions (issuing not directly as from the sun in
the centre of the mass, but as though two parhelia besides contributed
their power) there rose separately from each of the three tumescent
rolls of cloud shadowy beams of light embracing the whole firmament
above, whilst in addition to all this, there were secondary groups of
beams diverging from the angles where the rainbow arches intersected.
An appearance somewhat similar to these shadowed rays or streaks of
alternate light and shade, resulting from the unequal masses of the
floating clouds, has been recorded by Professor Tyndall as witnessed
in Algiers. The colour of the rainbows on their edge nearest to the
sun, and in consequence approximate to the clouds, was so remarkable
that it could not fail to excite my attention. Altogether it was a
spectacle not to be forgotten. The rainbow-like phenomenon had not the
appearance of being an ordinary arch repeated thrice, but was one
scallopped bow composed of three distinct but successive limbs: it
continued for about five minutes, and allowed me ample time to make a
sketch of its striking features.[36]

During September I found an opportunity to make a third excursion to
the Tondy, and had the good fortune to make some valuable additions to
my botanical store, but apart from this my days glided on without
variety, and I have no episodes of interest to relate.

Fastened down as I was for the present to one spot, I had to limit my
observations to its immediate neighbourhood, and accordingly with
considerable perseverance and at the cost of some trouble, and, I may
be permitted to add, of a good deal of soap, I went on taking the
measurements of many of the natives, who I thought might render me
service. There were hundreds of bearers, and after diligently
reckoning them up and instituting comparisons based on written
estimates and on a variety of portraits, I was able to satisfy myself
as to the characteristic features of their nationality which they
exhibit. I moreover devoted a considerable time to learn the dialects
of the district, and found that the facility with which the different
slaves had mastered Arabic in their intercourse with the Nubians was
of great assistance to me in my endeavours.

Now and then there would occur incidents that were somewhat ludicrous.
One day a visit from the superintendent of a distant Seriba was
announced, and Idrees was all on the alert to give his colleague a
fitting reception. The arrival was expected of Ali, the Vokil of
Biselli, under whose guidance Miss Tinné had passed the most memorable
year of her life. In readiness for the entrance of Ali into the
Seriba, the whole armed force was drawn up in double line before the
gate. Ali was not only Ali (“tall and strong”) by name, but he was in
fact a head taller than any of his retinue. Full of state, with
majestic mien, with the turban of the believer upon his head and the
splendid hezam of Tarablus around his loins, he was just entering the
military avenue when the soldiers fired their salute. The discharge
was rendered, and they all mutually smothered each other in smoke. But
the echoes of the salute were hardly silent, and wreaths of smoke
still hovered in the air, when all of a sudden the solemnity was
interrupted by the cry of “Russahs! russahs!” (bullets, bullets), and
one of the soldiers rushed from the ranks, dashed down his musket, and
seemed bereft of his senses. In truth, his _vis-à-vis_ had forgotten
to remove the charge from his rusty old gun, and the shots that had
been designed for the geese in some neighbouring marsh had terribly
punished the legs of his unfortunate comrade. The poor fellow applied
to me for assistance, but I could not help him otherwise than by a
kind word. I had not in my possession any instruments to extract the
shot, and so I did the best I could to pacify by quoting mysterious
texts, and by commending him to the mercy of Allah.

Rarely did a week elapse without the repetition of some such mischance
as this. Perpetually in peril myself of being shot, I was ever being
called upon to exercise my surgical skill either in bandaging
fractures, or in extracting balls great or small; but as most
frequently the shots found their way into the legs of the sufferers,
in the legs most frequently I allowed them to remain.

[Sidenote: PRAYERS OF THE PRIESTS.]

Although my fatigue by day made repose by night very essential to me,
my rest was sadly disturbed by the habits of my people. Quite
intolerable at times was the eternal babbling of their prayers, which,
beginning in the evening hours, were wearily prolonged, and nothing
could accustom me to the clamour which they made. They seemed at times
to drive me in my impatience well-nigh to distraction. Some priests
had arrived from Darfoor, who surpassed all else in the clamour they
raised. With a lot of gibberish utterly incomprehensible, through
their antiquated pronunciation, to any of the Nubians, they proceeded
to recite the verses of the Koran with the grinding monotony of a
mill. My own people, however, devoted Mohammedans as they were, on
these occasions took my part, and warned off the disturbers of my rest
from the proximity of the hut. I cannot tell whether they were not
such enthusiastic believers, or whether their animosity was excited by
the bombastic erudition of the Foorians, but they set to work in
earnest, and made a clearance as effectual as I had once seen
accomplished by the officers of the liberal-tyrannical government of
Muntass Bey in Suakin. That ruler, when I had last been residing in
his town, had had the unparalleled audacity to send his Khavasses into
the neighbouring mosque, and to threaten to make a free use of the
kurbatch if the prayers at night were not promptly stopped. He sent a
message to the effect that if the priests wanted to pray they need not
shriek, for Allah could hear just as well without the outcry. The
daring of such an intrusion had never been matched from the day of
creation onwards.

Idrees, the superintendent of the Seriba, had eleven sons all nearly
of the same age, a circumstance readily explained by his plurality of
wives. For these youths, whom the children of other residents were
allowed to join, he had instituted something like a regular Jewish
school, and no one who has ever had the chance of witnessing the
proceedings of such an institution can forget the sensation they left
upon his ears. Four times in the course of the four-and-twenty hours,
at intervals of four hours apart, does the chorus of voices in these
Nubian schools break out in alternate humming, and buzzing, and
shouting, occasionally varied by the didactic hammering of the master,
by the switch of his rod, and the consequent screams of the
youngsters, which were invariably followed by a louder and livelier
articulation. There is one school time just before sunset and another
very shortly after, so that every attempt at repose is certain to be
thwarted. However, I could always endure this disturbance with much
more equanimity than the humbug of the prayers; for, however
erroneous, according to our ideas, might be the method of instruction
in school, yet its object at least was laudable.

Occasions there were when nightly orgies were all the rage, and the
idle pretext under which these were maintained was that the plague of
flies permitted no rest. The Nubians, when they had made themselves
tipsy with their detestable merissa, had the habit of finding an
outlet for their hilarity in banging on the kettle-drums which hung at
the entrance of the Seriba. To me this abominable noise was a very
thorn in the flesh, and as the huge drums were very near my quarters,
and had broken my sleep often enough, I took the liberty of sprinkling
the parchment with a sufficient quantity of muriatic acid, so that the
next time they were drummed they split across. Till some new
kettle-drums were provided I could slumber in peace.

[Sidenote: AN INCANTATION.]

Another interruption to a quiet night occasionally arose from the
native wizards, who practised the mystery of casting out devils. I
told them that they must be very indifferent charmers if they were
unable to expel the devils by day as well as by night; but they did
not appear to see matters at all in that light. One occasion there was
in which, out of pure compassion, I permitted the proceedings to go
on, although the noise was so extreme that it would never have been
tolerated in the daytime. The wife of the Dinka interpreter in the
Seriba had been long suffering under some chronic disorder, and he had
undertaken a long day’s journey to fetch a very celebrated conjuror or
“Cogyoor” to treat her case. The incantation began in a strain which
would try the very stoutest of nerves: the strength of the wizard’s
lungs was astounding, and could have won a wager against a
steam-trumpet. The virtue of the proceeding, however, centred upon
this, and ventriloquism was called in to assist in producing a
dialogue between himself and the devil which possessed the patient. I
say the “devil,” because the Biblical expression has accustomed us to
the phrase, but I disapprove of the translation, and would rather say
the “demon.”

In the most penetrating tone, something like the cackling of
frightened hens, only a thousand times louder, the sorcerer began the
enchantment, which consisted of several acts. The first act lasted two
hours without intermission, and unless it were heard it could never be
imagined. I was assured that this introduction was quite
indispensable—as a means of intimidating the devil and compelling him
to reply, it could not by any means be omitted from the execution of
the charm. The dialogue which followed between the wizard and the
devil was carried on by the artifice of ventriloquism. The wizard made
all kinds of inquiries as to the devil’s name, the period of his
possession of the woman, his proceedings, and his whereabouts, and
then went on to ask about his lineage, his kinsfolk, and
acquaintances. When for an hour or more the wizard had interrogated
him till he had got all the answers he wanted, he set to work to
provide the real remedy. Hurrying away into the wood, he got some root
or herb, which perchance in many cases contributes to a cure. It all
vividly reminded me of the clap-trap which advertisers and quacks are
accustomed to employ, and how it may happen that they get hold of some
simple and long-known material, which, under some marvellous name,
they impose as a novelty upon the public. Puffing is part of their
trade, and without a good deal of noise their business will not thrive
in Europe any more than in Africa.

[Sidenote: JOINING ABOO SAMMAT.]

The rainy season in due time came to its end. For seven months and a
half I had now been quietly quartered in the Seriba of Ghattas; but a
change was now impending, as I had resolved to quit my limited range
and to attach my fortunes to the care of Aboo Sammat, whom I have
already mentioned. Repeatedly he had invited me, at his own expense,
to visit with him the Niam-niam lands, and I had determined to follow
the advice of my people, who knew his character, and to accept his
offer. I discovered that he had penetrated considerably further to the
south than any other, and that he had more than once crossed that
problematic stream of the Monbuttoo which was said to flow quite
independently of the Nile system towards the west. The prospect of
visiting the Niam-niam would be much more restricted if I were to
remain attached to the expeditions of Ghattas’s Company, as they had
hitherto been confined to those nearest and most northerly districts
of that country of which the first knowledge in Europe had been
circulated by Piaggia.

I could not be otherwise than aware of the questionableness of giving
up my safe quarters, and exchanging my security for the uncertain
issues of a wandering life in Central Africa, but irresistible was the
inducement to enlarge my acquaintance with the country and to find a
wider field for my investigations. The season of the year was,
moreover, quite in favour of pushing farther on than I had previously
contemplated. Full of expectation, therefore, I turned my hopes
towards the south, in an eastern direction, towards that untraversed
region between the Tondy and the Rohl, which already is just as truly
subject to the Khartoomers as that in which I had been sojourning.

In my immediate neighbourhood I had tolerably well exhausted the
treasures of the botanical world; after the rains were over there was
a comparative barrenness in the productions of nature. I made, indeed,
my daily excursions, but they reached only to places which I had
previously inspected. A sense of irksomeness began to predominate, and
every tree of any magnitude, every ant-hill had become so familiar
that they had entirely lost the charm of novelty.

Aboo Sammat, in the most complimentary way, had made me a variety of
presents: by special messengers he had conveyed to me animal and
vegetable curiosities of many sorts. He once sent me the munificent
offering of a flock of five-and-twenty sheep; and at my own desire,
but at his cost, he furnished me with a young interpreter to teach me
the dialect of the Niam-niam. In the middle of November, on his return
from the Meshera, he would take our Seriba on his way, and I resolved
to join him.

The people at Ghattas’s quarters endeavoured, but to no purpose, to
dissuade me; they represented in very melancholy colours the misery to
which I should inevitably be exposed in the desert life of Aboo
Sammat’s district, which was every now and then threatened with
starvation. There would be no lack of monuments of antiquity
(“antigaht,” as they called them), or of hunting, or of wild beasts,
but I must be prepared for perpetual hunger. Against all this, however
true it might be, I consoled myself with the reflection that Aboo
Sammat would certainly manage to keep me in food, and the difference
of one more or less in number could not be very serious.

Another important reason which weighed with me was the saving of
expense in the way of travelling. The mere cost of bearers for a
journey through the Niam-niam lands would be some thousand dollars,
which, according to contract, would go into the pocket of Ghattas:
this would entirely be avoided if Aboo Sammat fulfilled his promise,
and there was nothing to induce me to suppose that he was otherwise
than a man of his word.

Nothing now seemed longer to detain me in the Dyoor or Bongo
countries: accordingly, resolved to make a start, I packed up my goods
without delay, and made the Governor acquainted with my intention. A
regular commotion followed in the Seriba: the clerks and notaries
produced the contract which had been signed at Khartoom, and attempted
not only to demonstrate that Aboo Sammat had no right to receive me,
but that Ghattas had the sole responsibility of my weal and woe, and
must answer, at the peril of his head, for any misfortune that might
befall me while I was under the tutelage of Aboo Sammat. The distorted
character of their logic was manifest as soon as the evidence was
shown that Ghattas was under obligations to me and not I to him.

[Sidenote: PASSAGE OF THE TONDY.]

After I had made all my arrangements to store the collections which
had accumulated since my last despatch, I prepared to quit my
bountiful quarters and to start by way of Koolongo over the desolation
of the wilderness towards the south. The baggage which I found it
necessary to take, I limited to thirty-six packages. The Nubian
servants, three slaves, and the interpreter, composed my own retinue,
but Aboo Sammat’s entire caravan, counting bearers and soldiers,
consisted altogether of about 250 men. I myself joined the main body
at Kulongo, where preparations had just been completed for the passage
of the Tondy, which was then at high flood.

The regular progress began on the 17th of November. A march of an hour
brought us to the low plain of the Tondy, where four Bongo bearers
were ready for me with a kind of bedstead, on which I reclined at my
ease as they conveyed me upon their shoulders above the many places
which were marshy or choked with rushes, till they reached the ferry
that Aboo Sammat had arranged. This ferry consisted of a great raft of
straw upon which the packages were laid in separate lots, and to which
most of the bearers clung while it was towed across by a number of
swimmers who were accustomed to the stream. The Nubians floundered
like fish in the strong current, and had some work to do in saving
many a “colli,” which, in the unsteadiness of the passage, was thrown
out of its equilibrium. The river, by its right bank, was running at
the rate of 120 feet a minute and was about 200 feet across. Nearly
exhausted as I was by the violence of the stream, when I approached
the further side I was grasped hand and foot by a number of the
swimmers, who brought me to land as if I had been a drowning man.

Beyond the river the land was less affected by any inundation, and
after a few minutes we came to a steep rocky highland which bounded
the way to the south. Rising to an elevation of little more than 200
feet, we had a fine open view of the depressed tract of land through
which the Tondy meanders. Its windings were marked by reedy banks; the
mid-day sun gleamed upon the mirror of various backwaters, and the
distance revealed a series of wooded undulations. Tn a thin dark
thread, the caravan wound itself at my feet along the green landscape,
as I have endeavoured to depict it in the annexed illustration. The
height on which we stood was graced by a beautiful grove, where I
observed a fresh characteristic of the region, viz., the alder-like
Vatica, a tree of no great size, but which now appeared in detached
clumps. In the foreground of the picture are represented some of the
most charming types of vegetation in the bushwood; on the left is the
large-leaved blue-green _Anona senegalensis_; on the right, the
_Grewia mollis_, a shrub with long twigs that supplies an abundance of
bast and string wherever it grows. The little tree of the pine genus
is the willow-leaved Boscia, which is a constant inhabitant of the
Upper Nile district.

It was getting late in the day before we had assembled our whole troop
upon the plateau. Very short, consequently, was our march before we
halted for the night. The spot selected for the purpose had formerly
been a small Seriba belonging to Ghattas; but in consequence of the
Bongo who had settled there having all deserted, and of the difficulty
of maintaining any intercourse with other Seribas during the rainy
season, it had been abandoned. It was a district of utter desolation,
far away from any other settlements.

[Illustration: THE DEPRESSION OF THE TONDY.]

[Sidenote: DOGGOROO RIVER.]

A brook, which in July and August becomes swollen to a considerable
stream, flowed past our quarters for the night, and joined the Tondy
at the distance of a few leagues. To this rivulet, which has its
source in the Madi country, in lat. 5° 10´ N., the Bongo give the name
of the Doggoroo, whilst it is known as the Lehssy in the districts
which divide the territories of the Bongo from the Niam-niam. Up the
stream we followed its course for two hours, keeping along the edge of
a pleasant park-like country, till we arrived at some thickets, which
we had to penetrate in order to reach the banks of the stream.
Sluggish here was the water’s pace; its breadth was about thirty feet,
and it was sufficiently shallow to be waded through, scarcely rising
above our hips; on our return in the following year the passage
involved us in considerable difficulty. Beyond the Doggoroo the ground
made a gradual but decided rise, and for more than forty miles the
ascent was continuous. It was the first elevation of the ground of any
importance which I had yet seen anywhere south of the Gazelle; for
here was a broad offshoot of the southern highlands, which, according
to the statements of the natives, serve as a watershed for the
coalescing streams of the Tondy and the Dyau (Roah).

After we had proceeded in a south-easterly direction till we had
accomplished about a third of our journey to Sabby, the Seriba of
Mohammed Aboo Sammat, we had at no great distance the territory of the
Dinka upon our left. The adjacent clan is called the Goak, and a large
number of the Bongo have taken refuge amongst them to escape the
aggressions and stern oppression of the Nubians. The Dinka, for their
part, impressed the strange intruders with such awe that, since Malzac
(the well-known French adventurer, who for several years took up his
quarters on the Rohl), no one has repeated the attempt to establish a
settlement in their district. It is simply their wealth in cattle that
is a temptation to occasional raids, which are studiously accomplished
as far as possible without bloodshed. On the last stage between the
Tondy and the Doggoroo we repeatedly came across the traces of
elephants; but the trenches which had been designed to catch them had
not as yet been a success. Elephants seem to prefer to make their way
along the narrow paths which have been already trodden by the foot of
man through the high grass, notwithstanding that they are not
sufficiently broad to admit a quarter of their huge bodies.

After the rains are over and the steppe-burning accomplished, the
landscape reminded me very much of the late autumn-time of our own
latitudes. Many trees were entirely destitute of foliage; the ground
beneath them being strewn with yellow leaves or covered with pale sere
grass as far as the conflagration had spared it. One charming tree, a
kind of Humboldtia, was conspicuous amidst the shadowy groves. It has
seed-vessels a foot long, the seed itself being as large as a dollar,
whilst its magnificent leaf is a beautiful ornament to the wood
scenery wherever it abounds. The gay colours of the young shoots,
sprouting directly from the root, crimson, purple, brown, or yellow,
contribute in a large degree to this effective display. The foliage
generally is so light that it was quite easy to penetrate into these
woods, which constantly and agreeably relieved the barren aspect of
the region.

[Sidenote: THE WATERBOCK.]

A considerable number of antelopes from various quarters had been
killed by the hour in which we encamped for the night in a forest
glade. These antelopes belonged to the Waterbocks (_A. ellipsiprymna_),
of which the head is very remarkable, on account of the large
excrescences which obtrude from the side of the nostrils, in the same
way as in the wild buffalo. It has a fine sweeping pair of horns,
which crown its brow. The hair of this species of Waterbock is
extremely long and soft, and its skin is a very favourite decoration
of the Niam-niam. There is but little difficulty in getting an aim at
this animal, as its white haunches soon betray it amid the gloom of
the forest, where it is more frequently found either quite solitary or
in very small groups. I very much relished the tender flesh of the
kids, although it was somewhat deficient in fat.

[Illustration: The Central African Waterbock. (_Antilope
ellipsiprymna._)]

When morning dawned the only remnant of our supper was a pile of
crushed bones; for neither skin nor gristle had been spared by the
greedy negroes. The beast of prey disdains what a voracious man will
devour; the beast rejects what is tough, and gnaws only about the soft
and supple joints, whilst man in his gluttony roasts the very skin,
splits the bones, and swallows the marrow. Splintered bones,
therefore, here in the lines of traffic, just as they do in the
caverns of antiquity, afford a distinctive evidence of the existence
of men, whilst bones that have been gnawed only attest the presence of
lions, hyænas, jackals, and the like.

Few there are who have not read of the glory of the southern heavens;
rare is the traveller in the tropics who has not revelled in the
splendid aspect of the great arch above when illumined by the shining
of the moon. After a long hot march it may indeed happen that the
traveller is far too weary and worn-out to be capable of appreciating
the charm of any such beauties; in passive indifference, stretched
upon his back, he turns a listless eye unconcerned upwards to the sky,
till sleep overpowers him; and thus unconsciously he loses the highest
of poetic ecstacies. Soon the heaven bedecks itself with countless
numbers of fleecy clouds, which separate as flakes of melting ice, and
stand apart: the deep black firmament fills up the intervals, and
gives a richer lustre to the stars; then, circled by a rosy halo,
rises the gentle moon, and casts her silver beams upon the latest
straggler.

Meanwhile, far in the lonely wood, there has arisen, as it were, the
tumult of a market; the gossip of the chatterers is interrupted now
and then by the authoritative word of command of some superior
officer, while many a camp-fire is kindled and illuminates the distant
scene. To protect himself against the chilly air of night, each
separate bearer takes what pains he can, using what ashes he can get
for his covering. Wreaths of smoke hover over the encampment, a sense
of burning oppresses the eyes and makes sleep all but impossible, and
thus the attention is ever and again arrested by the moving orbs in
the heavens above. To the traveller it well might seem as if the
curtain of a theatre had been raised, and revealed a picture of the
infernal world where hundreds of black devils were roasting at as many
flames. Such were my nightly experiences as often as I journeyed with
a large number of bearers.

[Sidenote: SHEREEFEE.]

About noon on the third day, after marching about sixteen leagues from
Kulongo, we arrived at Duggoo, the chief Seriba of Shereefee, who
maintained some small settlements in this remote wilderness.
Notwithstanding the almost unlimited scope with regard to space, he
was on the bitterest terms of hostility with Aboo Sammat, his
neighbour in the south. A regular mediæval feud had broken out between
them, the nominal cause of the quarrel being that one of Shereefee’s
female slaves had been maltreated, and, having taken refuge with Aboo
Sammat, had not been restored; but the interchange of cuffs and blows
had been the actual ground of the discord. When two months previously
Aboo Sammat was despatching his ivory-produce of the year, consisting
of about 300 packages, to the Meshera, it was seized by the negroes as
it was being conveyed across Shereefee’s district. These negroes
attacked the defenceless bearers and massacred several of them; others
they wounded with arrows and lances, till the whole caravan was
overpowered, and every one throwing down his valuable burden made a
precipitate flight. The Khartoom soldiers belonging to Aboo Sammat
looked quietly on throughout the fray, for no attachment to their
master would have induced them to fire a shot against any of their
brethren.

Aboo Sammat, with all his property, was now in the desert, 150 miles
away from the boats. To enter into action against Shereefee he
hastened to the west, and induced a number of the controllers of
Seribas to repair to the scene of violence, and to insist upon
judgment being passed at Khartoom. But to accomplish this purpose he
had to travel hundreds of miles in a few weeks, during the rains, and
before his task was completed the proper time for shipment had
elapsed, the high waters had abated, and all his goods had to remain
at the Meshera to await another season, exposed all along to the too
probable attacks of the hostile Dinka. Aboo Sammat, so far from taking
the law into his own hands, had proceeded in the most legitimate way
to demand compensation; but Shereefee, not satisfied with the wrong he
had already perpetrated, spurred on his negroes to make repeated
incursions upon his rival’s territory. Sometimes he endeavoured to
entice Aboo Sammat’s Bongo people to desert, and sometimes sent his
own to commit all manner of outrage and depredation. Many of the poor
natives, the shuttlecocks of the fray, lost their lives in the
contention; and I enriched my collection of skulls by some splendid
specimens which I picked up on my way. “This was the spot,” said Aboo
to me, “where the thieves made their attack. You have seen for
yourself, and should speak up for me.”

Approaching the neighbourhood of the hostile Seriba we made a halt in
the open country, about half a league away. To put a good face on the
matter, and to make an impression upon Shereefee’s people, everybody
put on their best clothes, and Aboo Sammat’s soldiers came out in all
the gay colours of the fresh chintz which had just been acquired from
the stores of the Meshera. The Turkish cut of these garments
contributed in no small degree to the self-confidence of the men, and
the Kenoosian could fairly pride himself upon having a troop who, not
merely in externals, but in general discipline, were far superior to
the disorderly bands which, in dirty rags, were quartered at the other
Seribas. Every precaution was taken to guard against a sudden attack,
and patrols were sent out to protect the flanks of our extended line.
Ambushed in the thickets some armed Bongo were actually seen, but
these outlying sentinels as soon as they observed there was a white
man in the caravan, having heard of my presence in the country,
abstained from any exhibition of hostility. Thus unmolested we drew
close up to the Seriba, and Mohammed’s party bivouacked out in the
open country. Meanwhile I was received in the most friendly manner by
Shereefee’s brother, who was here in charge, and there was no
disposition to act towards a Frank in any way that might involve
difficulty at Khartoom. But I could not help thinking how narrowly all
my baggage might be escaping attack, and what a hopeless attempt it
might be to recover it.

[Sidenote: DUGGOO.]

The whole district, as I have mentioned, had been gradually rising in
terraces all the way from the Tondy; and only just before we reached
the Seriba, which was named Duggoo, after the superintendent of the
place, had we marched continuously up-hill for half a league; no
flowing water had hitherto been observed. On the south-west and
south-east were visible the highlands in the distance, whilst in front
of them were elevations of from 100 to 200 feet above the level of the
adjacent vale. One of these elevations was very close to Duggoo in the
north-east, whence from a bamboo jungle there streamed in the rainy
season a brook which fell into the Dyan. The recesses and caverns in
the red iron-stone reminded me of the great grotto at Kulongo, with
its swarms of fluttering bats (_Phyllorhinus caffra_) and vast
accumulation of guano.

The wide stretch of country between the Tondy and the Dyoor, extending
some seventy miles, had but three years since been a populous district
with many huts; now, however, it had only a few scattered habitations
of the Bongo, which were grouped in the vicinity of either Aboo
Sammat’s or Shereefee’s Seribas. Since the Bongo have been expelled by
the Dinka, nothing but elephants and antelopes have found their
pasture in those wild plains, which have once been cultivated.
Occasionally the ruins of the burnt villages were still extant, rising
above the rank grass. Nothing survived as direct evidence of the
habitation of men; what scanty remnants of dwelling-places the first
conflagration of the steppes had spared, either the ants or natural
decay had soon destroyed. The only remaining vestiges of the
occupation of the land are due to the richness of vegetation, and this
has left its characteristic traces. I could specify some fifty or
sixty plants which correspond so accurately with the weeds of other
cultivated countries that they are significant tokens of a former
presence of men. The preponderating Indian origin of all these plants
is very observable, and a better acquaintance with the geographical
facts connected with them would probably be as trustworthy an
indication of the various migrations of an uncivilized people who have
no history as either their dialect or their physical development.

Five leagues away from Duggoo we arrived at Dogguddoo, the second
Seriba of Shereefee, where he was then resident. Many a slough and
many a marsh had we to traverse on our progress, the result of the
rain which had been falling for months. Midway we paused for a rest
beside the relics of a great Bongo village, where stood the ruins of a
large fence of the same description as is seen around the present
Seribas. In the very centre of the village had stood, as is commonly
found, an exceedingly fine fig-tree (_F. lutea_), and there were
besides, a large number of tombs constructed of blocks of stone and
ornamented with strangely-carved posts; at some little distance was a
number of handmills that had been left behind, destined for some years
to come to be a memorial of the past. The spot, named after the
previous governor, was called Pogao. Shortly afterwards we arrived at
a charming little brook, known as the Mattyoo, which, under the shadow
of a pleasant copse-wood, went babbling over its red rocky bed, making
little cascades and rapids as it streamed along.

In consequence of the repeated burnings of the steppes, well-nigh all
vegetation was now blighted and impoverished: in particular the higher
districts presented an appearance of wretched desolation. Repeatedly,
in the winter landscape of the tropics, there are seen trees standing
in full foliage in the very midst of their dismantled neighbours; and
the loss of leaf would seem to be hardly so much an unconditional
consequence of the time of year as a collateral effect of locality or
condition of the soil.

After having for months together explored every thicket, and day after
day penetrated into the high grass on the river-banks, I could not
suppress my astonishmant at the absence of every description of
snakes. The Khartoomers suggest an explanation of this circumstance
which I am not disinclined to accept; they conjecture that in this
stony region there is a deficiency of that rich black soil which
splits like a glacier in the dry season, and makes riding in the
North-Eastern Soudan a very dangerous proceeding; and, consequently,
that there is neither a way for snakes to escape from the fires of the
blazing steppes, nor any of those lurking-places which are
indispensable for their resort.

[Sidenote: STEPPE-BURNING.]

Incalculable in its effect upon the vegetation of Central Africa must
be the influence of the annual steppe-burning, which is favoured by
the dryness of the seasons. The ordinary soil becomes replaced by
charcoal and ashes, which the rain, when it returns, as well as the
wind, sweeps right away into the valleys. The rock is, for the most
part, a very friable and weather-worn ironstone, and upon this alone
has everything that grows to make good its footing. The distinction,
therefore, as might be imagined, is very marked between vegetation
under such conditions, and vegetation as it displays itself by the
banks of rivers, where the abundant grass resists the progress of the
fire, and where, moreover, a rich mould is formed by the decay of
withered leaves. But even more than the impregnation of the soil with
alkalies, does the violence of flames act upon the configuration of
plants in general. Trees with immense stems, taking fire at the parts
where they are lifeless through age, will die entirely; and, where the
grass is exceptionally heavy, the fresh after-growth will perish at
the roots, or in other places will be either crippled or stunted.
Hence arises the want of those richly-foliaged and erect-stemmed
specimens which are the pride of our own forests; hence the scarcity
of trees, which are either old or well developed; and hence, too, the
abnormal irregularity of form which is witnessed at the base of so
many a stem and at the projection of so many a shoot.

Flowing without intermission, all through the year, close by
Dugguddoo, there is a brook which the Bongo have named the Tomburoo.
Its water hurries on at the rate of 170 feet per minute, its depth
hardly ever exceeds three feet, while its breadth varies from 20 feet
to 50. Its banks, about four feet high, were bounded by land subject
to inundations corresponding to the measurement of the stream. At a
league’s distance to the east, the general elevation of the soil began
afresh. The environs of the Seriba of Shereefee were only scantily
cultivated, as the Nubians and the Bongo lived by preference on the
produce of the plundering forages which they were accustomed to make
amongst the adjacent Dinka tribes, the Ayell and the Faryahl, towards
the north.

Exposing itself far and wide, there was the naked rock, the barrenness
of which was only interrupted at intervals by a scanty covering of
human bones! Carried off in groups, the captured slaves here succumbed
to the overwrought exertions of their march. At times they died
literally of starvation, as often there was no corn to be had in the
barren land. The overland dealers in slaves make their purchases here
at the most advantageous prices. In these eastern Seribas, as the
result of the perpetual raids upon the Dinka, there is always a
superabundance of the living black merchandise on hand, but very
rarely is there an adequate supply of food for their maintenance. The
traders proceed from Seriba to Seriba with their gangs, which they
maintain on whatever provisions they can get on the way. Where
destitution is an ordinary phase of things, it is self-evident that
the traffickers, having no resources to support a lengthened journey,
must, day after day, suffer considerable loss, and it is no unwonted
thing for their gangs to melt away by a dozen at a time. Burnt bones
of men and charred palisades of huts are too true an evidence of the
halting-places of Mohammedanism, and, day by day, more and more was my
imagination shocked by these horrid spectacles. In the very Seriba
there was even awaiting me afresh the miserable sight, to which no
force of habit could accustom me, of a number of helpless children,
perfect little pictures of distress and wretchedness, either orphans
or deserted by their mothers, and who dragged on a pitiable existence,
half-starved, burnt by falling into the fire in their sleep, or
covered with loathsome sores.

[Sidenote: LAND-SNAILS.]

Turning short off, almost at a right angle to our previous direction,
our way beyond Duggoroo, after seven leagues, over a country
well-wooded and rich in game, led us to the borders of Aboo Sammat’s
territory. Once again the land began to rise, and appeared to be all
but barren in water-courses of any kind. As we went along I picked up,
in a state of perfect preservation, several of the bleached skulls of
some of Aboo Sammat’s bearers, who, wounded in the murderous attack by
Shereefee’s people, had never been able to regain their homes. In a
bag, which one of my attendants constantly carried, I had a collection
made of a number of the great land-snails which, after the termination
of the rains, abounded in this region. The two kinds which appeared
most common were _Limnicolaria nilotica_ and _L. flammea_; of these,
the former is rather more than four inches in length, the latter
rather more than three. They invade the bushes and shrubs, and have a
great partiality for the tender leaves of the numerous varieties of
wild vine. They serve as food for a number of birds, the _Centropus
monachus_, the cuckoo of the climate, in particular having a keen
relish for them. Their shells are as thin as paper, a circumstance
which, like the brittleness in the egg-shells of hens, testifies to
the deficiency of chalk in the soil. I was in need of soap, and the
chief object which I had in taking the trouble to collect these shells
was to obtain what cretaceous matter I could, to enable me to make a
supply, no other method of getting it occurring to my mind. At night
we rested at a poor Seriba called Matwoly, where we were received in
some dilapidated huts, as the place, together with all its Bongo
adjuncts, for greater security against the attacks of Shereefee, was
about to be abandoned.

The wearisome monotony of the woods, now generally stripped of their
foliage, was enlivened by the fresh green of the Combretum, which here
long anticipates every other tree in putting forth its tender buds.
Gaily it stands apart from the uniform grey and brown of the
surrounding forest, thrown into yet higher relief by the yellow of the
mass of withered grass below, and showing itself brightly from the
half-shaded gloom of the wood beyond.

Although I had now advanced an entire degree nearer to the Equator,
being now in a latitude of 6° 20´ N., I still found that the landscape
around had charms to offer which were not inferior to the winter
beauties of the distant north. In the early morning I delighted to see
the rimy dew that had fallen on the sprouting grass, and which
frequently remained as late as nine o’clock; over the feathery
Pennisetum and the Agrostideæ it fell like a white veil, and the
bright drops sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine. The slender
gossamer, moreover, which stretched itself over the deeps and shallows
of the soil, and even over the footprints in the ground, appeared to
operate as a conductor of the dew, which congealed till it was like a
film of ice which crackles beneath the tread of a traveller in the
autumn.

[Sidenote: GREAT ANT-HILLS.]

Distant four and a half leagues to the south lay Aboo Sammat’s head
Seriba, known as Sabby, the name of its Bongo chief. Half-way upon our
march we crossed a considerable stream, which was called the Koddy. As
we forded its breadth of twenty feet, we found the water rising above
our hips. Here again the candelabra-euphorbia seemed to be abundant,
after having never been seen since I left the eastern bank of the
river Dyoor. An essential feature of the district between the Dyoor
and the Kohl is contributed by the small mushroom-shaped ant-hills
which, found as they are in many a part of Tropical Africa, here cover
the stony surface with their peculiar shapes. Formed exactly like the
common mushroom, the separate erections of the _Termes mordax_ are
grouped in little colonies. The main difference between the tenements
of these ants and those which construct conical domes as tall as a
man, consists in this, that they have a definite altitude, which
rarely exceeds thirty inches, and immediately that there is no further
space they raise new turrets and form fresh colonies. The materials,
too, of which this species of Termes constructs its edifice is neither
grey nor of a ferruginous red, but is simply the alluvial clay of the
place: it is so closely cemented together, that it defies the most
violent kicking to displace it, and is hardly less solid than
brickwork. The natives are very glad to employ it for the construction
of their huts; they break it into fragments with their clubs, and
moisten it till its substance yields. By the Bongo it is called
Kiddillikoo.

[Illustration: Mushroom-shaped white-ant hills.]

The red ferruginous clay is the only material out of which the great
ants (_Termes bellicosus_) construct their buildings. These are seldom
found elsewhere than in a wood, where the pointed shapes are never
seen. The neighbourhood of Sabby especially abounded in these
monuments of animal labour, and not a few of them were fifteen feet in
height. In altitude greater than in breadth, they reared themselves
like a large cupola surrounded by countless pillars and projecting
towers. At the first commencement of the building it embraces only
some isolated domes, which gradually are combined into one single
cluster, whilst the ramifications of the interior have entirely to be
reconstructed. When we reflect that the dimensions of the bodies of
these toiling ants (the female neuters) are not one thousandth part so
great as the structure that they upheave, we cannot refrain from
comparing their edifices with the most extensive cities which human
hands have reared. During my previous journey, I had found several
opportunities of investigating the secret habits of these wondrous
creatures. The life of the traveller in Africa is one continual
conflict against their aggressions. Once at the missionary station in
Gallabat, for seven days did the people work away with crowbars to
remove one of these erections, which had been accumulated in the
middle of the courtyard, and which was not only an impediment in the
way, but was a nuisance to the adjacent huts. At length they
penetrated to the royal chamber, and dragged forth the queen to the
daylight, from which she had carefully excluded her subjects.

All the ant-hills of which I was able to make a survey were
constructed upon the double-chamber system, the maze of cells being
divided apparently into two separate storeys. Adequately to describe
the marvellous interior of one of these haunts of the community would
require a volume of itself. No labyrinth of coral could be more
intricate; its walls are curiously cemented together, its chambers are
most carefully arranged and most amply stored with vegetable produce,
and there are magazines which teem with cakes and loaves. A regular
series of bridges conducts from place to place, and many a crossway
traverses the pile. To detail the wonders of these erections would tax
the patience of the reader, and the study of a life-time would not
exhaust the marvellous perfection of the organization which they
present.

[Sidenote: ABOO SAMMAT’S HEAD SERIBA.]

As might be conjectured, there is no want amongst these woods of
ant-hills such as these, which have ceased to be occupied, and which
consequently have been adopted as lurking-places by various kinds of
animals that shun the light and lead a troglodite existence. Here
skulks the aardvark or earth-pig (_Orycteropus_); here gropes the
African armadillo (_Manis_); hither resort wild boars of many a breed;
here may be tracked the porcupines, the honey-weasel, or ratel; here
go the zebra-ichneumons and the rank civet-cats; whilst here,
perchance, may be found what in this land is rare, an occasional
hyæna.

Thus, after seven days’ journeying over a country all but uninhabited,
on the 23rd of November I found myself at the head Seriba of my friend
and protector, who received me with true Oriental hospitality. First
of all, he had newly-erected for my use three pleasant huts, enclosed
in their own fence; his thoughtfulness had gone so far that he had
provided me with several chairs and tables; he had sent to a Seriba,
eight days’ journey distant, to obtain some cows, that I might enjoy
new milk every day; and, in short, he had taken the utmost pains to
insure me the best and amplest provisions that the locality could
supply. My attendants, too, who, together with their slaves, made up a
party of thirteen, were entertained as freely as myself: everything
contributed to keep them in good mood, and they were delighted jointly
and severally to throw in their lot with mine.

The natives, when they saw not only their own superior, but the
governors of other Seribas, treat me with such consideration,
providing me with a palanquin for every brook, came to the conclusion
that I was a magnate, and said to each other, “This white man is a
lord over all the Turks”—Turks being the name by which the Nubians
here wish to be known, although before a genuine Osmanli they would
not have ventured to take such a title. As Aboo Sammat used jocosely
to remark, they were accustomed at home to carry mud, but here they
carried a gun instead. It was a matter of congratulation to myself
that the people already had arrived at some apprehension of the
superiority of an European. It set me at my ease to observe that I had
nothing to fear as to being mistaken by the natives for one of the
same stock as the Nubian menials. Equally advantageous to me was it
that the same impression prevailed amongst the Niam-niam and the
distant Monbuttoo, to whose territories I was approaching, and
accordingly I entered upon my wanderings under what must be considered
favourable auspices.

Situated in a depression between undulating hills which stretch from
south-west to north-east, the settlement of Aboo Sammat was surrounded
by numerous Bongo villages and fields. Here he centred an authority
over his Bongo and Mittoo territories which stretched away for no less
than sixty miles. The residence of Aboo himself was about a league
away, where he kept his harem in retirement, his elder brother having
the charge of the principal Seriba. After I had settled myself as
conveniently as I could, I began afresh my accustomed rambles, so
that, in the same way as I had done in Ghatta’s Seriba, I might
familiarise myself with all the environs.

At this period, when vegetation was at a stand-still, the flora
presented little novelty, and whatever I found corresponded very much
with what I had already seen in the district between the Tondy and the
Dyoor. The woody places around Sabby were generally somewhat thicker;
there was neither the same expanse of low steppe-country, nor the same
frequent interruption of woods by grassy plains. Corresponding to this
density of growth of the forests there was a greater variety in the
fauna.

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL IN SABBY.]

Meanwhile, amidst my investigations, I did not lose sight of my
projected journey to the Niam-niam, and continually made what
preparation I could. I criticised very diligently the muscles and
measurements of the people, and very materially enlarged my
vocabulary. Although I was only half-way towards the country of the
Niam-niam, I found myself brought into connection with a considerably
large number of them, and subsequently I was enabled in a degree to
master their dialect. The report of the feud between Mohammed Aboo
Sammat and Shereefee had extended to Mohammed’s outlying Seriba in the
Niam-niam country, and had grown into a rumour that all his people had
been exterminated by Shereefee’s agents. For the purpose of obtaining
more reliable information the manager of the Seriba, ninety miles
away, had sent ten young men to Sabby, and their strange appearance
very much surprised me. Everything which I had hitherto seen of the
people served to strengthen my conviction that they were marked off
from the other population of Africa by a distinct nationality of their
own. Even the Bongo seemed here to arouse my interest more than at
Ghattas’s Seriba, where, on account of their longer period of
subjection, they had gradually lost very many habits and peculiarities
of their race. I spent accordingly a good deal of my leisure in making
sketches of their dwellings and their furniture, and in my numerous
excursions round the villages, I persisted in investigating
everything, however immaterial it might seem, as though I were
examining the vestiges of the prehistoric life of a palisaded colony.

The three slaves who accompanied me were now indispensable as
interpreters. Apart from them I could have prevailed very little in
overcoming the shyness and mistrust towards strangers which the
natives continually exhibited: an exterior survey did not satisfy me,
and I persevered till I gained admittance to the inside of several of
the huts, so that I could institute a regular domestic investigation.
Every corner was explored, and by this means many a strange implement
was brought to light, and many an unexpected discovery revealed.

The granaries of the Bongo were now quite full, as the harvest was
just over: all was consequently mirth and riot in the district, and
many a night’s rest did I find disturbed by the noisy orgies which
re-echoed from the shadowy woods. At full blast for hours together
were the long wooden trumpets, the loud signal-horns, the huge
trombones, and those immense drums for the construction of which the
strongest timber has been selected from the forests. The powers of
shrieking were put forth to the uttermost. Like the rolling of the
breakers of an angry sea, the noise rose and fell: alternate
screechings and howlings reached my ears, and hundreds of men and
women seemed to be trying which could scream the loudest. Incapable of
closing an eye for sleep while such infernal outcry was around, I went
several times to inspect the frantic scene of merriment. Nights when
the moon was bright were those most frequently selected for the
boisterous revelry; the excuse alleged being that the mosquitoes would
not let them rest, and therefore it was necessary to dance; but in
truth, there was no nuisance of flies here worth consideration: I was
not annoyed to anything like the same extent as upon my backward
journey on the White Nile.

[Sidenote: ORGIES OF THE NIGHT.]

The following may be submitted as something like an ordinary programme
of these _soirées musicales_. Slowly and mournfully some decrepit old
man, or toothless old woman, begins with broken voice to babble out a
doleful recitative; ere long first one and then another will put in an
appearance from the surrounding huts, and point with the forefinger at
the original performer, as if to say that this is all his fault, when
suddenly, all together, they burst forth in universal chorus, taking
up the measure, which they work into a wondrous fugue. At a given
signal the voices rise in a piercing shriek, and then ensues a series
of incredible contortions; they jump, they dance, and roll themselves
about as though they had bodies of indian-rubber; they swing
themselves as if they were propelled with the regularity of machines;
it would almost seem as if their energy were inexhaustible, and as if
they would blow their trumpets till their lungs gave way, and hammer
at their drums till their fists were paralyzed. All at once everything
is hushed; simultaneously they make a pause; but it is only to fetch
their breath and recover their strength, and once more the tumult
breaks out intense as ever. The license of their revelry is of so
gross a character that the representation of one of my interpreters
must needs be suppressed. It made a common market-woman droop her eyes
and called up a blush even to a poor sapper’s cheek. Many of the
people had iron rings about their ankles with balls attached, and
these they rattled with such violence that their feet were bathed with
blood.

Go where I might, I found nothing but lamentation over the
impoverishment and desolation of the land, yet those who complained
were themselves responsible for its comfortless aspect. Whilst,
through the migration of the people, the country towards the north
during the last three years had been changed into a wilderness, the
Bongo, who clung to their homes and remained on their settlements, had
not only lost their former wealth in sheep, goats, and poultry, but
had even been too much driven to extremities to continue their
cultivation of corn, and were sufferers from what was little short of
famine. The Bongo asserted that in the first year that the Khartoomers
committed their depredations amongst them, they were so terrified lest
all their sheep, and goats, and poultry should be carried off, that,
without delay, they had them all killed, cooked, and eaten.
Eye-witnesses were not wanting who told me what had been the
astonishing quantities of poultry that once had teamed in every
village; but when there ceased to be any security for any one to
retain what he had, of course there ceased to be any interest in
making a store. If the harvest were prolific so that the granaries
were full, the settlers would revel in indulgence as long as their
resources held out; but for the greater portion of the year they had
to depend upon the produce of the woods and upon the proceeds of the
chase, which had often no better game to yield than cats, lizards, and
field-rats. Not that there was any actual fear of starvation, because
the supply of edible tubers and of wild fruits from the extensive
woods was inexhaustible and not ill-adapted to a negro’s digestion,
and because there was an abundance of the seed of wild grasses to be
collected, which replaced the scarcity of corn.

In productiveness the land around Sabby was not inferior to the
environs of Ghattas’s Seriba. The ears of sorghum here, as frequently
as there, reached to a weight of six pounds; but at the same time the
level tracts under cultivation were far less extensive, and in all the
rocky places could only produce a smaller yield. The natives, however,
never ventured to bring any of their grain to market, as I had been
accustomed to see them: whatever anyone possessed, he cautiously kept
out of the sight of the stranger. From all regular and systematic
agriculture, the natives were as a rule debarred, because in the
course of the year nearly every able-bodied man was compelled to go
and do duty as a bearer, and consequently for months together was a
stranger to his homestead, whilst he either plodded backwards and
forwards to the Meshera, or was engaged upon the Niam-niam
expeditions. Of copper, beads, and knick-knacks of every sort they
managed to increase their store, but in agriculture they decidedly
were retrograding. It was with them precisely as with their oppressors
from afar: just as in Nubia, there was a destiny of evil being
fulfilled upon the land, so here was the spectacle of a region
degenerating from prosperity into neglect and woe.

[Sidenote: GOAT-SUCKERS.]

Repeatedly in the evening hours I watched the ghost-like fluttering of
a long feathered goat-sucker of the species _Cosmetornis Spekii
Sclater_, observed by Speke[37] in Uganda, and which was to be
recognized by the astonishing elongation of the seventh and eighth
wing-quills, the latter of which reaches over twenty inches in length.
There was a second species of this genus, of which the male had the
same kind of prolonged shaft-feathers expanded at the end and
fluttering in the air like a peacock’s tail. This was the
_Macrodypterix longipennis_, a remarkable bird which the Arabs call
the “father of four wings,” because, as it chases the mice, it looks
as though it had a couple of satellites in attendance. Both these make
their earliest appearance about a quarter of an hour after sunset and
as the twilight passes rapidly into thorough night; I had, therefore,
only scanty opportunities of sending what were at best only stray
shots to bring them down. For the purpose of catching insects they
generally wheeled in circles at no great distance from the ground, but
as the range of their flight was very circumscribed and its rapidity
extremely great, it was somewhat difficult to get a good aim. However,
as the practice was repeated daily, I succeeded in securing a
considerable number of Speke’s interesting _Cosmetornis_. I should
mention that while I had been in Ghattas’s Seriba, sport of this kind
had very frequently been an evening recreation. The antipathy of this
aëronaut of the dusky evening to the clear light of day, seemed very
remarkable: it kept itself to the seclusion of the low bushwoods, and
when roused up would disappear again at the first ray of light; often
it would settle itself on the ground in a pile of leaves to which its
own hue corresponded, and it might then almost be trodden upon before
it could be stirred into flight.

During the incessant excursions which I kept making round Sabby I was
able to discriminate not less than twelve distinct species of
antelopes, of which I was successful in shooting several. Frequently
met with here is the antelope (_A. oreas_) which is known as the
Elend. During the rainy months it gathers in little groups of about
half-a-dozen in the drier districts on the heights, but through the
winter it is, like all its kindred, confined to the levels by the
river-sides. Upon the steppes through which flow the brooklets in the
proximity of Sabby the leucotis antelope is the most common of all
game, and many is the herd I saw which might be reckoned at a hundred
heads. Perhaps nowhere in the whole of North-east Africa would any one
have the chance of seeing such numerous herds of antelopes collected
together as travellers in the south are accustomed to depict. Assisted
by a whole clan of Kaffirs, the Boers on the 24th of August, 1860, had
a _battue_ in Honour of the Duke of Edinburgh, of which the result was
that between 20,000 and 30,000 antelopes are said to have been
enclosed. Of the more circumscribed district of the Nile the parts
that are most prolific in game are on the north-west declivity of the
Abyssinian highlands, on the Tacazze or Seteet, in the province of
Taka: there it is not an unknown circumstance for herds to be found
which exceed a total of 400 head, but they do not correspond in the
remotest degree with those which are depicted in the published
engravings of the South African hunt. Still poorer in numbers of
individuals are the antelopes in Central Africa proper, where the
uniform diffusion of men encloses smaller wastes than those which can
alone provide large lairs for game.

[Sidenote: ZEBRA-ICHNEUMON: MUCUNA URENS.]

Amongst the numerous smaller beasts of prey to which the regions that
I visited gave harbourage, the zebra-ichneumon was to me one of the
most interesting. I was very successful in securing living specimens
of this widely-scattered species, and could not suppress my
astonishment at the facility with which they were domesticated in my
dwelling; if ever they get established in a house there is no getting
rid of them. It is a saucy creature, and has neither fear to show nor
submission to yield to the authority of man. It resembles the wild cat
of the steppes in the ease with which it can be accustomed to a home
life. I found it exceedingly troublesome on account of the
pertinacious curiosity with which it peeped into all my cases and
boxes, upset my pots, broke my bottles, with no apparent object but to
investigate the contents. To accomplish its aim it made incessant use
of its long, taper, snuffling snout as a lever. But the most vexatious
art of which the animal was master was the skill it had in scenting
out the spots where my hens were accustomed to lay their eggs, and of
which it learnt the flavour before I had an opportunity of removing
them to a place of safety. It is moreover a tricky little animal; by
whisking and wagging its tail it assumes the appearance of fawning and
wheedling, but as soon as anyone touches it, he gets a good bite on
his finger. When hunted out and followed by dogs, it throws itself
down on its back, kicks its legs about, and grins and gnashes with its
teeth. To keep clear of being bitten the best way is to pounce upon it
by its tail and to let it hang dangling in the air.

One morning there arrived at the Seriba from the far distant
boundaries of the Bongo several wild-looking men, armed with bows and
arrows. In order to satisfy myself of the effectiveness of their
weapons, I set up a mark at a short distance, consisting of an earthen
vessel, in front of which I placed a good thick pad of straw, and over
all I threw a stout serge coat. Defying all the coverings, the arrow
penetrated the coat, made its way through the straw and knocked a hole
in the earthenware, which was nearly half-an-inch thick.

A plant there is here which is not very likely to be forgotten by
anyone who has made many excursions into the woods: I mean the _Mucuna
urens_. It is a sort of bean, of which the pods are enclosed in a
thick rind and the leaves are covered with pungent bristles. These
bristles are as brittle as fibres of glass and, broken off by the
wind, are dispersed in all directions over the foliage in the forests.
No one who explores the thickets can escape being punished by these
tiny prickles. The natives, who are naked, go amongst them with the
extremest caution. The stinging sensation they cause lasts about ten
minutes, but it may be alleviated by washing.

There is a kind of Christ’s Thorn (_Zizyphus Baclei_) which every
December yields an abundance of fruit, consisting of dry mealy
berries, which have a very bitter taste. The colour of these is not
unlike a chestnut; they are quite unfit for eating, but the Bongo
prepare a powder from them which they throw upon the surface of their
waters, and it has the effect of stupefying the fish.

In the parched steppe I repeatedly found a huge chafer belonging to
the family of the Elateridæ, but unfortunately the specimens which I
secured, together with my other collection of insect curiosities, were
all destroyed by fire; and I have now no other reminiscences of them
beyond the notes I took that they were of a bright brown colour and
were but little short of two inches and a half in length.

Of the few larger shrubs which blow in the winter, an Echinops, with
splendid purple blossoms as large as one’s hand, left a deep
impression on my recollection. They start out of the grass in
situations where the woods are not over-dense, and rise to the height
of a man. For the sake of the security of what has been styled a
“protective resemblance,” the mantis takes up its quarters amidst its
boughs. Just as the leaf-frog secretes itself on the young and light
green foliage, or the white ptarmigan resorts to the snowy downs of
the frozen north, so does the mantis here take up its abode on the
tree as purple as itself, and there endeavour to find a world in which
it may conceal its singular shape. This part of Africa seemed to
produce many species of this remarkable genus. Whenever I saw them I
derived fresh confirmation for my belief that they try to adapt their
places of resort to the specific colours of their bodies: the result
of this is, that they often startle the plant-collector as if they
were ghosts, and their strange shape is indeed somewhat suggestive of
a harpy. At first sight the heads of the Echinops, on which they
settle, look like malformations of the shrub itself, for the insect
uncoils its arms, and like a suppliant lifts them to the sky. Every
variety in colour seems to belong to the mantis; I have seen them red,
yellow, green, and brown; the most remarkable of all was one of the
colour of grass, which I found upon the peak of my hut in the Meshera,
and which was of the surprising length of ten inches.

[Sidenote: LIONS.]

Around Sabby the general security was so complete that, quite at my
ease and entirely unarmed, I might have ranged the woods if there had
been a certain immunity from being attacked by lions; and against this
I was compelled to be on my guard as I penetrated the depths of the
wilderness to secure the novelties of vegetation, which could not fail
to excite my curiosity. Although my vocation constrained me day after
day to explore the recesses of the woods more thoroughly, and to make
my way through places hitherto inaccessible, yet I never met with any
untoward accident. At home I am quite aware that there are some who
entertain the idea that every traveller in Central Africa is engaged
in perpetual lion-fights, whilst, on the other hand, there are some
who make the insinuating inquiry as to whether lions are ever really
seen. In a degree both are right—both are in the avenue of truth.
Lions are, in fact, universal, and _may_ be met with anywhere; but
their numbers are not absolutely large, but only proportioned to the
princely rank they hold in the scale of animal creation. Their
appearance is always a proof of the proximity of the larger kinds of
game. Corresponding to the line in history, which tells that forty
generations of Mamelooks tyrannized over the people of Egypt, might be
registered the line in the records of the animal kingdom, which might
run that forty lions found subsistence in the land.

It is not to be presumed that every hunting excursion in Africa is
associated with adventure. Such is far from the fact, and it would be
utterly wearisome for me to recount every frivolous incident of my
ordinary hunt in quest of game for the table. Even in Africa a chase
may be as insipid as coursing a hare in the environs of Paris.
Shooting and hitting are two different things, as are also hitting and
killing on the spot. So great is found to be the nervous resistance of
the larger and stronger kinds of game in Africa that the sportsman
must be prepared to lose at least 70 per cent. of all that he is able
to wound; this will arise not merely from his being destitute of dogs
to follow the scent, but from his continually finding himself baffled
in pursuit by the world of grass and of marshes, through which he is
obliged to make his way. When on the march, another obstacle to
securing what is shot often arises from the fear of being left behind
by the caravan, and the possibility of losing one’s way necessitates a
despatch which is unfavourable to success.

[Sidenote: WILD BOAR SHOT.]

One afternoon the chase after a considerable troop of hartebeests led
me deep into the wood. The cunning animals watched my movements very
anxiously; by stopping repeatedly they enticed me continually further
on into the gloom, and still eluded the chance of giving me a shot.
Already had I penetrated so far into the forest that the rays of the
sun were totally lost, and everything was wrapped in the obscurity of
twilight; I was about to make my way over a depression in the ground,
to get nearer to an elevation from which the antelopes were calmly
surveying me, when I suddenly stumbled over some huge shapeless
object, which seemed to me to be moving. Owing to the obscurity of the
place I could not distinguish anything, but I found there was an
ant-hill close by, of which I endeavoured to make some use; under the
protection of this I made an attempt to get a few steps nearer to the
enigmatical creature that lay before me; from behind the mound I
cautiously made an investigation, and just at that instant the animal
made a lurch, and revealed to me the snout of a huge wild boar, which
seemed to cover the whole face like a mask, while a great pair of
tusks projected from the bushy bristles of the enormous jaws; the
stolid gaze of the brute made it clear that it was not conscious of my
being near, but it seemed ready to take a spring upon the first
intruder that should disturb it; I approached within the shortest
possible distance, and then took aim, and lodged my bullet in the body
of the beast. The spectacle that ensued was very singular. The
unwieldy creature, contracted like an impaled fly, turned over on to
its side, and then, with another contortion, on to its back, where it
writhed about and jerked its legs in every direction. Whilst I was
patiently abiding my time till the beast should expire, I was taken by
surprise as I observed that the hartebeests were within pistol-shot of
where I stood, as if they had been spell-bound by the incident which
had interposed to rescue them from their pursuer. I was ready anew to
take my aim at them. I had, however, only a single-barrelled gun, and
no one in attendance to hand me a second. I was just on the point of
loading, when, by one of those unlucky chances that will occur, I
discovered that in my precipitation I had used all my bullets, and
should only waste my labour in following up the pursuit. The wild
boar, however, was mine, and I had it brought to my quarters the same
evening. I went to bed without partaking of a supper from it, for
whenever there is anything to do with the detestable flesh of a
wart-hog, I am a regular Mohammedan. Accordingly, I had the greatest
satisfaction in handing it over to the hungry negroes.

An incident still more peculiar had occurred to me on a previous
occasion when I had gone out to hunt, attended by one of my Nubians,
who rode a donkey, of which the supposed office was to carry home
whatever might be the produce of my sport. I left my servant and the
donkey carefully out of sight in a spot where two rifts in the soil
represented what, during the rains, was the course of two connected
brooks. Proceeding to the tall grass, I was not long in sighting a
small bush-antelope. I took a shot, and could entertain no doubt but
that the animal was struck. I saw it scamper across the grass, and was
every moment expecting to see it fall, when I heard a sudden bleat of
anguish, and it was gone. Forcing my way through the rank grass, I
made the closest scrutiny all around the place where, but a few
minutes since, I had seen the wounded antelope, but my search was all
in vain. I was encumbered in my movements by having to carry a couple
of guns; but, knowing that the area of the ground was bounded by the
two rifts that enclosed it, I felt certain that my search would not be
without success. At length I discovered the antelope almost at my
feet, but it was fixed immovably; it was fastened to the ground by
what seemed to me at first the filthy skirt of one of the negroes.
Looking more closely, however, I soon saw that the creature had been
seized by an immense serpent, that had wound itself three times round
its body, leaving its head projecting and drawn down so as well nigh
to touch the tail I retreated far enough to take an effectual aim, and
fired. The huge python immediately reared itself bolt upright, and
made a dash in my direction, but it was able only to erect its head;
the hinder parts lay trailing on the ground, because the vertebral
connection was destroyed. Seeing the state of things, I loaded and
fired repeatedly, taking my aim almost at random, for the evolutions
of a snake are as difficult to follow as the flight of the
goat-sucker. I had on other occasions proved that a snake may be
killed by one ordinary load of shot, if this at once breaks the
vertebral column. I now completed my capture; the return to my
quarters was made in triumph; the double booty formed a double burden,
the snake on one side of the donkey and the antelope on the other,
balancing each other admirably.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [36] The phenomenon here depicted is closely allied to
     those tinted halos which are seen in so much diversity
     and under so many modifications around both sun and moon.
     In Schumacher’s ‘Astronomische Jahrbücher’ (Altona, 1823)
     Fraunhofer has detailed the theory of these halos, and has
     proved his assertions by many examples that had fallen
     under his own observation. Whenever the sun or the moon
     is surrounded by a halo, the sky is ordinarily veiled in
     light vapours. If the phenomenon is perfect, the rings of
     this halo are seen to be of the colours of the rainbow.
     Fraunhofer divides these halos into two classes: viz.,
     halos of a small and halos of a large diameter. If the
     red tint is outside and away from the luminous body, as
     in the present case, he calls it a halo of the smaller
     kind; but if the red is inside and next to the luminous
     body, it is a halo of the larger kind. This latter case is
     closely allied to the phenomenon of parhelia. The cause
     of these tinted halos is to be found in a diffraction
     of light through globules of vapour, and Fraunhofer has
     given proof that the light, in passing across the edges of
     these globules, would assume an appearance of diffraction
     similar to that which would be caused by its passing
     through minute apertures. For the formation of a tinted
     circle it is necessary that the globules should be equally
     diffused and of an equal magnitude. If the globules were
     very irregular, there would be only a bright glare, because
     the eye would receive rays of various colours from one and
     the same spot in the atmosphere; then the result would
     be that the light would be white, as in the case under
     our notice it appeared directly round the outline of the
     cloud, and also beyond the outside ring of red, so that
     the coloured circle was bounded on each side by a rim
     of white light. The smaller the globules of vapour, the
     larger are the tinted rings, for according to the theory
     the diameters of the rings are in inverse ratio to those
     of the globules. According to another theory represented
     by Galle (Poggendorf’s ‘Annalen,’ vol. xlix.), one cause
     of these tinted halos is the presence in the atmosphere of
     ice-crystals of microscopic minuteness; but this hypothesis
     seems confuted by the fact that similar phenomena have
     frequently been witnessed within the tropics (Alex. von
     Humboldt, Voyage II., p. 309). This phenomena of the 18th
     of May, 1869, was remarkable for the form of the tinted
     circle, which corresponded exactly with the accidental
     outline of the clouds, which presented a threefold curve,
     thus [Illustration: symbol]. Thus the entire rim of the
     cloud became a series of luminous sunlight points formed of
     globules of vapour, making a halo of the smaller class, and
     sending forth their own shadows.

     [37] Vide Speke’s Journal, p. 462.




                              CHAPTER IX.

  Tour through the Mittoo country. Early morning in the wilderness.
     Soldier carried away by a lion. Dokkuttoo. Fishing in the
     Roah. Feeding a slave caravan. Ngahma. Dimindoh, the hunter’s
     Seriba. Wounds from the grass. Dangadduloo. Entertainment in the
     Seribas. The river Rohl. Reception at Awoory. Footsore. Trial
     of patience. People of the district. Poncet’s Seriba Mvolo.
     Mercantile prospects for the Egyptian Government. Fantastic
     character of landscape. Structure of pile-work. Rock-rabbits.
     Rock-rabbits’ feet. Nile cataract in miniature. The _Tinnea
     æthiopica_. Seriba Karo on the Wohko. Reggo and its breed of
     dogs. Kurraggera. Aboo Sammat’s festivities. A speech of the
     Kenoosian. Aboo Sammat and the subjugated chiefs. Deragoh and
     its mountains. Kuddoo on the Roah. Fear of lions in the forest
     of Geegyee. Return to Sabby. The Mittoo people. Inferiority of
     race. Disfiguration of the lips by Mittoo women. Fetters of
     fashion. Love of music.


I spent December and January in a tour of considerable extent through
the adjacent Mittoo country, being desirous of visiting some Seribas
recently established by Aboo Sammat, and by means of which he had
extended his frontiers far onwards towards the east. I obtained ten
bearers for the transport of my baggage, and a Nubian captain of Aboo
Sammat’s company was expressly appointed to act as guide and to
provide for my accommodation all along the route. I was accompanied
likewise by three of my own Khartoom servants.

A short journey to the north-east brought us to Boiko, where, enclosed
by a dense forest, was situated Aboo Sammat’s harem. A lady here, the
first wife, a daughter of the Niam-niam chief Wando, although she did
not permit herself to be seen, was near at hand to do the honours: she
was so far civilized that she entertained me with coffee and several
Khartoom dishes.

Proceeding eastwards we reached the little river Tudyee, which,
flowing past Sabby at a distance of about two leagues to the east,
ultimately joins the Roah (the Nam Dyow of the Dinka); at this time of
year it is about twenty feet deep, and murmurs along a channel from
twenty to thirty feet wide; now and then it forms deep basins, which
never fail to be full of fish. We made our first night-camp near a
fine tamarind, which will probably for years to come be a landmark as
conspicuous as it was at the time of my visit; it was the usual
halting-place of all caravans from east to west, and the traces of
previous encampments, dilapidated straw-hats, vestiges of fires and
fragments of bones bore ample testimony to the fact.

At this season a slight dew was perceptible towards five o’clock in
the morning. The nights were calm and, in comparison with the day,
were considerably cooler than in summer, when in the interior of the
huts there is hardly any difference in temperature to be
distinguished. Throughout the day, however, a strong north wind blew
incessantly, which towards the afternoon increased almost to a
hurricane. There is a peculiar charm in these early morning hours, and
no one can wake from his repose in a night-camp in the wilderness
without a sense of calm enjoyment of the delights of nature. As soon
as the horizon reddens with the dawn the solitude is enlivened by a
chorus of ring-doves, here the most frequent of their kind, and by the
cackling of guinea-fowl. The traveller is aroused daily by their
serenades, and, without much strain upon his imagination, he could
almost persuade himself that he has been long resident in the same
spot, so familiar does the cooing of the doves become.

[Sidenote: CARRIED OFF BY A LION.]

As we were preparing to continue our march, some people came to meet
us with some dismal intelligence from the neighbouring village of
Geegyee. They said that on the previous night a Nubian soldier, who
had laid himself down at the door of his hut, about five paces from
the thorn hedge, had been seized by a lion, and, before he could raise
an alarm had been dragged off no one knew whither. I now learnt, that
this district had for some years been infested with lions, and that
lately the casualties had been so frequent that the greater part of
the inhabitants of Geegyee had migrated in consequence. The entire
village would have been transplanted long ago, but the lions had been
always found to follow every change of position. At seven o’clock in
the morning we reached the ill-omened spot, the poorest of neglected
villages, surrounded by woods. A thorn hedge formed its enclosure but
nowhere could we discover an entrance. Although the sun was now high,
the inhabitants, terrified lest the lions should be near, were still
sitting either on the tops of their roofs or on the piles that
supported their granaries. Speechless and depressed with fear, my
people proceeded on their journey: every one kept his gun in hand, and
the bearers, listening anxiously at every rustle that broke the
stillness, peered carefully after any traces of the dreaded foe.

After a good day’s march we arrived at Aboo Sammat’s Seriba Dokkuttoo,
lying on the extreme east of the frontier of the Bongo; it was about
twenty miles from the chief Seriba Sabby, being somewhat further to
the south. Half a league before we reached Dokkuttoo we had crossed a
considerable, though only periodical stream, called the Mokloio. It
was now five feet deep, meandering over a low flat fifty feet wide to
join the Roah.

The Roah is a river of about the same size as the Tondy, with which it
finally unites itself; it here makes a remarkable bend from south-east
to north-east, but its general direction for some distance in this
district is due north; the stream flowed between banks twenty or
thirty feet in height; its average width was full forty feet, whilst
it was only three feet deep; the velocity of the current was one
hundred and twenty feet a minute. The grass flat covered by the Roah
at the time of its inundation is not so wide as that covered by the
Tondy at Koolongo; it measured barely half a league across, and I
therefore conclude that this river carries northward a volume of water
smaller than the Tondy.

The Bongo were most assiduous in securing the large supplies of fish
offered by the Roah. Across the stream in many places was thrown a
kind of weir like a _chevaux de frise_; this they stopped up with
bunches of grass and so formed a small dam; over the open places were
set creels, and altogether a rich produce rarely failed to be
obtained. Some miles up the river, where the banks are shut in by
impenetrable reeds, is a favourite resort of hippopotamuses, and it
was said that, two years previously, the natives had killed no less
than thirty in a single day. The brutes had been driven by the low
condition of the water to seek the deeper basins of the river-bed,
whence all escape was impossible.

We remained in Dokkuttoo for two days, of which I made the most by
excursions in the neighbourhood. A small slave caravan, containing one
hundred and fifty girls and children, happened to be passing through
the Seriba; it was conducted by traders coming from Ghattas’s and
Agahd’s territory in the east. The whole party huddled together for
the night in a couple of huts, several old female slaves being
entrusted with the supervision of the children. I was a witness of the
arrangements for the evening meal, and, contrary to my expectation,
found that everything was conducted with much system and regularity.
The old Bongo people of the neighbouring villages had brought fifty
bowls of dokhn-groats, and as many more containing sauces prepared
from sesame-oil, Hyptis-pap, and dried and powdered meat or fish, and
other comestibles of gourds and wild Melochia.

[Sidenote: FORCED PROVISIONS.]

My own entertainment was well provided for, and the agent had an extra
bullock slaughtered in order that my little company should not proceed
without the supply of meat necessary for the journey. Every mouthful
of food that I swallowed in this unhappy country was a reproach to the
conscience, but the voice of hunger drowned every higher emotion; even
the bread that we ate had been forced from the very poorest in the
season of their harvest when their joy, such as it was, was at its
height; they probably had neither cow nor goat, and their little
children were in peril of dying of starvation and only dragged out a
miserable existence by scraping up roots. The meat, in the abundance
of which we were revelling, had been stolen from poor savages, who pay
almost a divine homage to their beasts, and who answer with their
blood for the stubbornness with which they defend their cows, which
they hold dearer than wife or child.

Leaving Dokkuttoo, we proceeded for three leagues to the south,
passing through the light bushwood that skirted the left bank of the
Roah. The woods lay close down to the river as it flowed between its
rocky banks. We crossed the stream near some huts, already inhabited
by Mittoo, of which the name of the local chief was Degbe. Further
south our path again and again crossed wide meadow-flats containing
water-basins almost as large as lakes, which, as they had no
perceptible current, had every appearance of being ancient beds of the
Roah. Several larger kinds of antelopes, water-bucks, and hartebeests
appeared, and a herd of thirty leucotis challenged me to a chase. At
night, at our bivouac in the forest, we enjoyed in consequence a fine
feast of the savoury game. Between the Roah and the Rohl the previous
uniformity of the rocks began to be broken by projections of gneiss
and by scattered hills. About ten leagues from Ngahma we passed a
remarkable spot of this kind, where huge blocks of stone rose in
mounds from which colossal obelisks might be hewn. These elevated
places alternated with extensive flats level as a table top.

Ngahma was Aboo Sammat’s most important settlement amongst the Mittoo.
It lies in a S.S.E. direction from Dokkuttoo and derives its name from
the elder of the people, who, with his twenty wives, resides at no
great distance; by the natives it is called Mittoo-mor. From Ngahma I
turned north-east towards Dimindoh, a small settlement of
elephant-hunters belonging to Ghattas’s “Gebel company,” as the people
style his establishments on the Bahr-el-Gebel. The district was the
highest elevation between the Roah and the Rohl, the country being
more diversified by defiles, clefts, and periodic streams than that
which I had previously traversed. Dimindoh lay on the further bank of
a little river called the Wohko, which, during our march, we had
repeatedly to cross. The stream flows over a course of some seventy
miles without any perceptible increase in its dimensions, a
peculiarity that I have again and again observed in many other small
rivers, which seem to flow across wide tracts of country unchanged in
their condition by the affluence of any spring or running brook.

An excellent reception awaited me in Dimindoh. The hunting-village had
been lately built of straw and bamboo at a large outlay, and there
were regular straw palaces, of which the new domes and roofs gleamed
with all the golden glory of Ceres. To say the very least, our rest
was quite undisturbed by rats, and the idyllic abodes still retained
the pleasant aroma of the meadows. I had no cause to complain of the
entertainment in any of the smaller Seribas. I was always supplied
with milk and with all kinds of meal. The traditional spirit-distillery
of Ghattas’s people was here also in full swing, and they brought to
me, in gourd-shells, a concoction which was not so utterly bad as that
at Gurfala.

[Sidenote: TREATMENT OF WOUNDS.]

I was, however, much bewildered by the constant solicitations for my
medical advice. Amongst other cases they brought me a Nubian, who, on
his excursions, had received such cuts from the grass that his feet
had completely rotted away, leaving the tendons still hanging. These
people have no rational way of treating their wounds, but when there
is any inflammation they endeavour to allay it by corn-poultices and
hot water, a proceeding which always aggravates the evil. I saw some
who had lost several toes, and others who had the most revolting sores
on the shins and insteps, and in nearly every case these had arisen
from insignificant cuts which, simply from mismanagement, had
terminated in disease.

“It is a strange thing,” I said to them, “that the grass is only bad
_here_; it must be something more than that; it is a punishment from
God.”

“But God,” they answered, “does not give us such grass in Dongola;
this is a bad country.”

“Do you mean to say then,” I replied, “that God is kind in Dongola,
and unkind here? No; I tell you, God is Himself punishing you for all
your thievery, because there is here no other ruler to look after your
misdeeds.”

I felt that I was quite justified in talking in this fashion to a
people who, under the cloak of religion, are as unscrupulous rascals
as any in the world, and who, misinterpreting the mottoes on their
banners which incite them to war against the infidel, consider all
plunder perpetrated on defenceless savages as heroic actions bearing
them onwards to the palms of Paradise.

The chief Seriba of this eastern section of Ghattas’s establishments
lies only a league and a half to the north-east of Dimindoh, and was
called Dangadduloo, after a certain Danga, who had been appointed the
head of the Mittoo of the district. In 1863 the brothers Poncet of
Khartoom had ceded to Ghattas their settlements amongst the Agar, on
the Rohl, in order to found fresh establishments in the following year
near the cataracts of that river, among the Lehssy. The Agar, as I
have already mentioned, had managed to obtain possession of a
considerable quantity of firearms and ammunition, and had made
themselves so formidable that the Khartoomers had not ventured to
rebuild the Seriba that had been destroyed: for that reason, the
settlements of Ghattas had receded southwards to the region in which I
now found myself. Our road lay often across wide gneiss flats, which
not unfrequently exhibited the same uniformity for several hundred
yards together. From the surface the stone broke off in smooth laminæ,
often as thin as the cover of a book, and afforded me a convenient
material for pressing my packets of plants. We had crossed the Wohko
for the second time at Dimindoh, where its bed was about fifteen feet
deep: its course is generally due north, but here it bends at a right
angle to the east, as if seeking the shortest route to join the Rohl.
The little river abounds in shells, especially in Anodontæ, which are
turned to many domestic uses by the natives, while the massive
_Etheria Cailliaudii_, not unlike the oyster, forms continuous banks
in all these minor streams.

In Dangadduloo I found two applicants both eager to obtain the
appointment as superintendent of the Seriba. One of these had
accompanied the last caravan of supplies from Khartoom, and now was
not acknowledged in the Seriba by the soldiers, who reproached him for
having acted fraudulently. He was a Copt, and, as far as I know, the
first and last Khartoom Christian who ever ventured amongst this set
of fanatics. The other agent, named Selim, was a negro over six feet
high, and by birth a Dinka; he had the majority of the inhabitants of
the Seriba on his side, and lived in continual contention with his
rival about the surrender of the stores brought from Khartoom. Both of
these men received me with a great show of friendship, and each strove
to outdo the other in politeness; they considered that a great deal
might depend upon the answer that I should give their master on my
return to Khartoom, when he would probably ask my opinion of their
respective merits. Each maligned the other, and almost in the same
terms; they were both, moreover, throughout the two days which I spent
with them more or less in a state of intoxication.

[Sidenote: COLD CUP.]

Wherever I entered a Seriba there was almost invariably brought to my
hut, according to the Soudan fashion of receiving strangers, a cooling
draught, consisting of a kind of _cold cup_ called Abrey. It was made
in the simplest manner from highly-leavened bread, dried and crumbled
into water; its flavour is agreeable, and travellers can hardly say
too much in its favour: it is a preparation, however, that can only be
made of sorghum bread. In addition to this the people are accustomed,
according to patriarchal usage, to bring water to wash the stranger’s
feet. When there preliminaries had been gone through, I had then to
take my seat upon the “angareb” or couch, which was generally covered
with an elegant Persian carpet, and to await the visits that would be
made me.

A succession of unknown personages ordinarily came, who made a
reverent salaam and then silently and with mysterious air placed
before me flasks, calabashes, and gourd-shells containing butter,
milk, honey, spirits, merissa—in short, every delicacy that the
country could offer. My people revelled in this abundance, and ever
rejoiced at the happy thought which had impelled me to this tour, and
that I had brought them from a land threatened with famine into this
region of corn and cattle. The fact of a large number of the herds
having been stolen, and that the territory was adjacent to the
territory that had been plundered, gave rise to the risk of a
nocturnal attack by way of reprisal: on this account numerous watches
were set every night and the environs were patrolled, but no sooner
had the sun gone down than the entire community abandoned themselves
to a general intoxication, so that I should never have been astonished
if the Dinka had ventured on a surprise, which would have had every
likelihood of being crowned with success.

The Mittoo of this district are called Gheree. Southwards and far to
the east of the Rohl the general name of Moro is applied to the
country, and as tribes of distinct people have settled there, it may
no doubt be considered as a true geographical designation of the land
itself; it is, however, the only example which came under my notice
throughout the entire region of the appellation of the people and the
land not being identical.

Favoured by the partial destruction of the high grass by fire, the
natives were diligently setting about their great hunt. Battues, with
nets, pits, and snares, were set on foot in every direction; the
strong bows with curved handles, by means of which a lasso can by
skill be thrown round a buffalo’s legs, being in general use. In the
villages I observed many trophies of the chase in the shape of some
splendid horns of buffaloes and eland-antelopes.

As I went on due east towards the Rohl, I was obliged to be carried,
on account of having a sore foot. This I found a matter of some
difficulty, on account of the want of any suitable litter, and because
the paths are all so narrow that there is no space for two persons to
move abreast, while the difficulty was still further increased by the
negroes refusing to carry the heavy angarebs in any way except upon
their heads. Wherever Islamism has its sway in Africa, it appears
never to be the fashion for any one to allow himself to be carried:
this arises from a religious scruple which might with advantage be
applied by Europeans to nations under their protection. A strict
Mohammedan reckons it an actual sin to employ a man as a vehicle, and
such a sentiment is very remarkable in a people who set no limits to
their spirit of oppression. It is a known fact that a Mohammedan,
though he cannot refuse to recognise a negro, denying the faith, as
being _a man_, has not the faintest idea of his being entitled to any
rights of humanity.

[Sidenote: IDENTIFICATION OF ROUTE.]

The country on the left bank of the Wohko appeared well cultivated,
and we frequently passed through fields from which crops of
Penicillaria had been gathered. Three leagues from Dangadduloo there
was some low meadow land, and, for the first time since leaving the
Dyoor, I saw an extensive range of Borassus palms, their lofty stems,
80 feet in height, crowned with waving plumes of fan-shaped leaves.
Beneath their shade nestled the huts of the Mittoo chief Bai, with
whom we took our noonday rest. In the afternoon we retraced our steps
for a couple of leagues, in order to put up for the night in the
village of another chief, named Gahdy. Towards the north-east some
important heights now showed themselves on the horizon beyond the
Rohl, and after awhile I was able to settle certain angles so as to
determine their relative bearings. By this means, for the first time,
I ascertained that my route must be near the points which had been
reached by former travellers, and I could with certainty identify
Girkeny, relatively about 200 feet high, with the locality marked on
Petherick’s map.

It afforded me much amusement to watch the natives at their ordinary
occupations in their pent-up dwellings, and my portfolio was enriched
by the drawings of many of the household utensils, as well as of the
personal ornaments which the Mittoo women possess in great abundance.
These women are the most frightful that ever yet I had seen, and the
horrible manner in which they mutilate their lips contributes a great
deal to increase their repulsiveness. Elsewhere this practice is
generally confined to the women, but here the men were similarly
disfigured, and in Gahdy’s village I was visited by a man from whose
upper lip there hung a pendant of polished quartz more than two inches
long.

Just behind the village we came once more upon the Wohko, which had
here more perfectly assumed the aspect of a river, being forty feet in
width. It had now entered upon the wide low-lying steppe which extends
to the western shores of the Rohl. We were nearly two hours in
crossing this tract, which was densely covered with grass so high
that, although in my litter I was six feet above the ground, I had to
raise myself to catch sight of the adjacent mountains.

It is worthy of notice how all the rivers that I visited in this
region, such as the Dyoor, the Paongo, the Tondy, the Roah, and the
Rohl, of which the course was almost directly from south to north, in
spite of the slight diminution of the velocity of the earth’s rotation
in these low latitudes of 6° or 8°, follow that law, exemplified in
all rivers flowing northwards, and which is dependent on the rate of
rotation of the earth. The course of all alike was nearly coincident
with the eastern edge of the uniform steppes that covered the
districts subject to their inundations. Along the western shore of the
Dyoor and Paongo the steppes in many places could not be crossed in
much less than an hour, whilst those on the east could be traversed in
little more than ten minutes. In the same way it takes forty minutes
to cross the western flats on the Tondy near Koolongo, but those on
the opposite bank are easily passed in a sixth of the time. Here, too,
upon the Rohl there are no flats at all upon the right-hand shore, but
the river for some distance washes past a steepish bank on which lies
Ghattas’s Seriba Awoory. This bank is formed by the slope of the
Girkeny, only about two leagues away.

[Sidenote: VARIOUS NAMES OF THE ROHL.]

The Rohl contains a much larger volume of water than the Tondy, and
near Awoory its bed divides into several branches, which in the winter
are separated by sandbanks of considerable height. In the higher parts
some stagnant pools remain, which, as they evaporate, fill the lowland
with swampy humour. On the 17th of December I found the width of the
river to be seventy feet; its depth was only about two feet and a
half, but it was overhung by sandy banks twenty feet high, which were
covered with reeds; its current moved at the moderate rate of about a
hundred feet a minute. The river must offer an imposing sight in the
height of the rainy season, when the plains are entirely under water;
it must, then, apparently rival the Dyoor, although it does not
contain more than a third of the quantity of water. Marked on existing
maps under the name of Rohl, it is called by the Dinka the Nam-Rohl,
_i. e._, the river of the “Rohl,” which is a tribe of the Dinka
people. The Mittoo, the Madi, and other tribes along its course give
it the name of Yahlo, whilst among the Bongo it is known as the
Dyollebe. This is a fresh instance of what may be found throughout
Africa, where the names of rivers, towns, and chiefs continually
recur, and where Ronga and Mundo are almost as common as Columbus,
Franklin, and Jackson in North America. The term Kaddo or Kodda, which
appears on some maps, seems superfluous, since in both the Mittoo and
Behl dialects the word means only “a river,” or generally “water.”

At Awoory a reception grander than usual was prepared for me. From my
elevated position I could distinguish that the ant-hills were covered
with black heads and that hundreds of inquisitive natives had
collected to gratify their curiosity about me. As I entered the
Seriba, fifty men were drawn up before the gate, under orders to
honour me by firing a salute. Something of a feeling of misgiving
quivered through me, and it was a relief to recollect that I was up in
the air, and so comparatively safe from the shots that were to be
fired on the ground.

The natives around Awoory are called Sohfy, and are the same as the
Rohl, who dwell further east. Their language in some respects
resembles those of the Mittoo and the Bongo, although there are points
in which it differs materially from both. In appearance and habits,
the Sohfy bear a close affinity to the Mittoo. The three mountains to
the north of Awoory are also inhabited by the Sohfy; Girkeny, the
loftiest of these, is about three leagues distant, and consists of a
bright mass of gneiss, which descends abruptly towards the south in
precipices 200 feet apart. Petherick’s route in 1863, between Aweel
and Yirri, lay across this mountain. Nearer the Seriba is a little
hill, with its villages of Nyeddy, Yei, and Madoory, all of which are
tributary to Ghattas.

About a day’s journey to the north-east there rises a lofty
table-land, upon which the name of Khartoom has been conferred by the
natives, in order to denote its importance and impregnability as a
stronghold. Its inhabitants are respected by the people of the Seriba
for their bravery in war, and are particularly renowned for their
skill in archery: although they have been repeatedly attacked, the
aggressors, ever unsuccessful, have been obliged to retreat with a
large number of killed and wounded. A few weeks previously the
population of this Mount Khartoom had attempted to surprise the
Seriba, which most probably would not have escaped entire destruction,
if the garrison of the neighbouring Seriba of the Poncets had not
opportunely come to its relief.

The Nubians apply the general term of Dyoor to all the tribes on the
Rohl to the south of the Dinka territory, although the tribes
themselves, having nothing in common either in language, origin, or
customs with the Dyoor of the west (a Shillook tribe), repudiate the
definition. The designation was adopted from the Dinka, who thus
distinguish all tribes that do not devote themselves to cattle-breeding.
Petherick was in error when he imagined that the Dyoor country known
to him in his earlier travels extended so far as to include the Rohl:
he would have escaped his misapprehension if he had only noted down a
few of the characteristic idioms of their language.

[Sidenote: MY FOOT INFLAMED.]

Whilst I was in Awoory my foot became so much worse that for two days
I was almost entirely incapacitated. Externally there was only a
slight spot on the sole of the foot, but the entire limb had swollen
with inflammation. I had every reason to fear an outbreak of
guinea-worm, and therefore resigned myself to the cheerless prospect
of being invalided for several weeks. Unable to carry out my intended
trip to the attractive mountains of the neighbourhood, I had no
alternative but to submit to my disappointment, and, without
accomplishing my hopes, I was compelled to bid farewell to Awoory. For
six days I had been confined to my litter, and meanwhile all search
for plants, all the enticements of the chase, and all investigation of
the implements peculiar to the villages had to be given up. Enthroned
again on the heads of four sturdy negroes, I proceeded on my way.
Through my position, my range of vision was somewhat enlarged, so that
I had a little compensation for my helplessness in a more extensive
prospect over the pleasant country. Pain, too, was subsiding, and no
longer engrossed my care. The bright sky above, the still solitude of
the steppes around, the mild air of the tropical winter, and the
unwonted ease of my mode of progress, all combined to lull me into
gentle reverie. The slight rustle made by the footsteps of the bearers
among the yielding stalks was the only sound that broke my silent
contemplations, and I could almost imagine that I was in a light boat,
being driven by an invisible power across the waves of a sea of grass.

Until we passed the Rohl the road lay in a S.S.E. direction, close
along its right-hand bank. Inland, the country appeared to ascend in
gently-rising terraces, but the character of the vegetation continued
entirely unaltered, the bush-forest being composed of trees and shrubs
of the same kind that I had observed ever since we had set foot upon
the red soil. At the place of our transit the stream was undivided;
but, although it was 200 feet in breadth, the water was little more
than knee-deep. The numbers of fish were quite surprising, and our
negroes amused themselves by darting with their arrows at the swarms
of little perch, never failing to make good their aim.

On the opposite bank we entered the territory of another small but
distinct tribe called the Lehssy, whose dialect differs from both
Mittoo and Sohfy. Its narrow limits extend for a few leagues to the
east of the river as far as Kirmo, which was one of the places visited
by Petherick. Beyond again are the settlements of the Bohfy, in whose
territory, a day’s journey to the east of Mvolo, Agahd maintains a
Seriba, which is situated on the Ayi, a river which, according to
Petherick, contains less water than the Rohl and joins the Dyamid
before it enters the Bahr-el-Gebel. To the north of the Bohfy dwell
the Behl, who, together with the Agar and Sohfy, possess such wealth
of cattle as to provoke continual raids on the part of the owners of
the Seribas. Behind the Behl again, towards the Bahr-el-Gebel, are the
Atwol, a people much feared for their warlike qualities, rendering the
approaches to the Meshera of that river so unsafe that caravans are
often in considerable danger of attack.

After crossing the Rohl we proceeded a mile or two to the S.E., and
arrived at Poncet’s Seriba in Mvolo. The character of the scenery had
now entirely changed, and large blocks of granite, at one time in
solid cubes, at another in pointed obelisks, started from the ground.
On the north of the Seriba, and a little above the place where we
forded the river in coming from Awoory, these rocky projections caused
the stream to fall into rapids, which, on a reduced scale, bore a
resemblance to a cataract of the Nile. This chain of scattered rocks,
which runs across the country from west to east, has been mentioned by
Petherick (‘Travels in Africa,’ vol. ii.) as extending to the south of
the village of Dugwara.

[Sidenote: THE BANNER OF ISLAM.]

The agent in Mvolo, who had been for many years in the service of the
brothers Poncet, received me most courteously. As I entered within the
palisade of the Seriba, a hundred men saluted me after the fashion of
the country, and even some shots were fired from a small piece of
naval artillery that stood in the gateway. However honoured I might
feel by this polite reception, I could be conscious of nothing but
vexation at the sight of the blood-red banner with its crescent and
extracts from the Koran. I had flattered myself in vain with the hope
that here at least the cheerful waving of the tricolour—often but a
mockery—would proudly assert the authority and independence of the
Frank. My people had repeatedly declared that they would on no account
follow under my flag, and I had no means open to me of convincing them
of their error. The unfurling of the Mohammedan banner over the
possessions of a Frenchman is a practical demonstration of the limited
measure of authority which is really exercised by the Khartoom
merchants over their dependents in the interior. There is not a single
Christian in the settlement, so that the condition of things is not
worse than might reasonably be anticipated. Such, at any rate, is my
opinion, and I do not doubt but that any fellow-countryman of Poncet’s
would either hold his peace or pass a judgment even sterner than mine.

In all these countries the slave-traffic is a fact tacitly
acknowledged quite as much as the transactions of the minor
speculators on our own exchanges, and the brothers Poncet had much
odium to endure from being held responsible for the delinquencies of
their subordinates in this respect. These accusations, combined with
the difficulty of maintaining a proper control over the conduct of
their people, made them hesitate to increase the number of their
settlements; their insignificant profits, moreover, did not allow them
to stand against the competition of the neighbouring companies, who
shrunk from no means, however unlawful, for enriching themselves. At
length the brothers Poncet had become weary of the illegitimate
proceedings that went on covertly in defiance of their authority, so
that a year previously they had disposed of their establishments to
the Egyptian Government, stipulating for a period of three years for a
payment of a percentage on the entire produce of ivory at the current
rate of interest. Such were the circumstances under which the last
European firm withdrew from the ivory trade, which had really been
originated and established in the countries of the Upper Nile by
Europeans alone. The Egyptian Government had looked forward to the
monopoly of the ivory traffic as so likely to be lucrative that they
paid a large sum for its purchase.

Mvolo was practically the nearest point to the region which was most
productive of ivory, and there was a direct route from the Rohl to the
Monbuttoo which avoided the hostile territory of the Niam-niam.
Latterly, the Poncets had sent out two expeditions in the year instead
of one, and had thus doubled their previous annual profits through
having resources which were not available to any other establishment.
But, in spite of everything, the authorities at Khartoom must have
advised the Government very badly, for almost immediately after the
discharge of the grant allowed to the Poncets the settlement passed
into other hands, and Ghattas junior obtained for himself and for his
heirs the whole of the productive territory.

[Sidenote: SLAVE DEALING.]

Many may think that a resolution of the Government to monopolise the
ivory trade in this district would augur well for the future, and that
the results would inevitably tend towards a reform of the existing
club-law, but it is really very doubtful whether such a change would
benefit the poor oppressed natives. It is true that by a larger outlay
of capital than the Khartoom merchants can afford the profits might be
considerably increased, and many sources of produce yet undiscovered
might be brought to light; but, as I have said before, there can never
be ensured a proper representative effectually to secure the interests
of the Viceroy. All these enterprises are more or less involved in the
slave trade, and a military occupation could not be thought of,
because only Nubians can endure the climate, and Nubians would never
submit to a regular discipline. Of the ineradicable propensity to
slave-dealing which has always shown itself in every Government
official, be he Turk or Egyptian, I will say nothing; but I may
venture to observe that neither a regular system of taxation nor the
suppression of the slave trade in the Upper Nile countries is possible
until Egypt shall have made good its footing in Darfoor, that great
nucleus of the Central African slave traffic, which has hitherto been
a place of refuge for all the criminals in the Egyptian Soudan, and
which affords a continual loophole of retreat for every outlaw of
Khartoom. The threat so often heard in the quarrels of the people, “I
will murder you, and escape to Darfoor,” is a striking illustration of
the estimate in which the district is held.

The inhabitants of Mvolo call themselves Lehssy, and in many
particulars of their habits they resemble the Mittoo and Bongo. In the
huts I frequently observed some singular wooden figures, the Penates
of the establishment, which had been erected to the memory of a
departed wife. Petherick describes the graves near Kirmo as adorned
with forked boughs, and bits of wood carved into the shape of horns,
exactly as I noticed them on the graves of the Bongo.

The district produces plenty of corn, and with its ample opportunities
for hunting and fishing supports a tolerably large population, which
has every appearance of being well fed. The Lehssy generally are of a
medium height, but I came across individuals of a strength of build
such as I saw nowhere else except among the Niam-niam. I was also
struck by the frequent occurrence of feet and hands disproportionately
large. Dongolo, the native overseer of Mvolo, was, on account of his
stoutness, called “bermeel,” a barrel; and another of the inhabitants
was nicknamed “elephant-foot.”

Distinct, in some respects, from what I had already seen was this
district of Mvolo. Far as the eye could reach, there extended a wide
grassy plain, broken by huge stones of fantastic outline and by
thickets or single trees. Graceful fan-palms waved above the groves,
and the autumn tints gave a rich colouring to the scenery, every rock,
with its covering of creepers, being a picture in itself. In the north
could be seen the three mountains near Awoory, like purple peaks in
the pale azure of the horizon. In the far distance the country had the
deep blue of an Italian sky, mellowed as it came nearer into peculiar
tints of grey and golden brown; whilst close to the foreground all was
bright with the varied hues of foliage, red, yellow, and olive-green
alternating with the freshness of the sprouting shrubs, the Indian red
of the ant-hills, and the silvery grey of the jutting rocks.

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE DISTRICT OF MVOLO.]

[Illustration: PONCET’S SERIBA IN MVOLO.]

The Seriba, like its environs, was unique of its kind. The formidable
appearance of the confused pile-work would have spoilt the night’s
rest of any one who had a very sensitive imagination. Something like a
picture I remember of the Antiquary’s dream, only without the sea, did
the complication of huts stand out against the tall blocks of granite
from which the fan-palms started like proud columns. The huts
themselves, on their platform of clay, were like paper cones on a flat
table. In front was the great farmyard, with its hundreds of cattle
under the charge of Dinka servants. These neatherds erect for
themselves crooked awnings on equally crooked piles, and sit huddled
up on a soft bed of ashes round the ever-glowing dungheaps, inhaling
with delight their favourite fumes. These pile-works undergo many
modifications in design, and have been imitated from the strongholds
made by the natives when they were still masters of the land. The
principal use of these structures is to afford places of refuge from
hostile attack.

[Sidenote: ROCK-RABBITS.]

Quite in keeping with the fantastic scenery and eccentric architecture
is the peculiarity of the rock-rabbits that dwell among the crevices
of the gneiss. Immediately after sunset, or before sunrise, they can
be seen everywhere, squatting like marmots at the entrance to their
holes, into which, at the approach of danger, they dart with wonderful
snorts and grunts. The noise they make has caused the Nubians to
bestow upon them the general name of “kako.” There is, however, a
great variety of species, hardly distinguishable from each other,
scattered throughout the Nile countries, every district seeming to
present its own special representative of the race. Not only are they
found in the mountains of Abyssinia and of Upper Sennaar, but they
inhabit those isolated mounds and hills which give its peculiar
character to the landscape in Southern Kordofan and the province of
Taka. Again, they appear in the mountains of the Bayooda steppes, and
play a prominent part in Southern Africa; whilst other species are
found in Arabia, in the Sinai peninsula, and in the Syrian mountains.
Those that I saw in Mvolo nearly correspond with the Abyssinian
species depicted by Bruce. They appear to feed chiefly on the bark of
trees, although they occasionally devour young shoots and grass.

Abdoo, the controller of Mvolo, was half a naturalist: as a huntsman
he had done service under many Europeans, and had acquired a
reputation for being a skilful stuffer of birds. He drew my particular
attention to the good sport afforded by the rock-rabbits, as they
crept about in tempting proximity to the gate of the Seriba. At the
same time, he asked if I could account for the wonderful way in which
the animals managed to clamber up and down smooth rocks that were
almost perpendicular.

“I can’t tell,” he said, “how it is, but when you have shot one of the
creatures, and catch hold of it, it sticks to the rock with its feet,
in its death struggles, as though it had grown there.”

The under part of the foot is dark and elastic as india-rubber, and
has several deeply-indented cushions.[38] This arrangement, which no
other mammalia or warm-blooded animals seem to possess, enables the
creature, by opening and closing the centre cleft, to throw off part
of its weight and to gain a firm hold upon the smooth surface of the
stone. The toes are nothing but pads of horny skin, without regular
nails, the hind foot alone being furnished, on the inner toe, with one
claw, which is sharply compressed. For some time I could not at all
comprehend how, with such a plump foot, the rock-rabbit could climb so
safely over precipitous walls of granite, or even along the polished
branches of the little trees in the ravines; but the mystery was
solved when I tried to pick up an animal which I myself had wounded.
The granite was as smooth as pavement, and yet, when I seized the
creature by the neck, it clung like birdlime to the ground, and
required some force before it could be removed.

Although many other species of rock-rabbits or rock-badgers have been
observed by scientific travellers, and although the animals take a
conspicuous place in the fauna of Southern Africa, yet I have never
come across any mention of this interesting circumstance. My
observations may be discredited, but I have endeavoured to render them
as accurately as possible, in the hope that future travellers will
give further attention to the subject.

The largest specimens that I killed were females with young, and they
measured about ten inches in length. They were remarkably like wild
rabbits, of a grey tint; the males being much lighter, and having a
sharply-defined white stripe running about two inches along the middle
of the back. The females of this species produce two perfectly-developed
offspring at one birth. The flesh is like that of a common rabbit, and
quite as much requires an artificial dressing to make it palatable.

[Sidenote: ANIMALS AROUND MVOLO.]

Other interesting animals find their habitats among the rocks of
Mvolo. The pretty little tan-coloured squirrels (_Sciurus
leucumbrinus_), with two white stripes on either side, of a kind which
is often seen on the steppes of Nubia, are here very abundant. There
are also swarms of agamas, nodding their orange-coloured heads; the
movements of these creatures are anxiously watched by the
rock-rabbits, which first utter a note of alarm, and then retreat as
nimbly as marmots to their holes, from which they never venture far
away. Not unfrequently have I waited half-an-hour before their heads
have appeared again.

The inevitable Guinea-fowl, of course, was to be found running through
the grass, also a kind of francolin, the cocks with tails erect, like
little bantams. As my good entertainment in the Seriba made me
independent of the chase for my sustenance, I only killed a few
specimens of this pretty bird. Francolins, which abound in other parts
of Africa, are very rare throughout the district of the Gazelle. On
the third day after my arrival in Mvolo, I was once more on my feet
and able to take an excursion to some rapids about half a league to
the north-east. The river divides into three branches, and rushes
impetuously over a bed chequered with blocks of granite. Two of the
larger islands were covered with dense bush-woods, and a charming
hedge of borassus-palm lined the banks. The main stream passes in
equal parts through the northern and southern arms. The first of these
forms a precipitous fall of fifty feet, and, wildly foaming, dashes
into the hollow among the rocks—the entire descent of the river at
these rapids being at least a hundred feet. The river makes a bend
round the Seriba, and a quarter of a league to the east, above the
falls, it is once more flowing in its ordinary bed, which is a hundred
feet wide. The smooth blocks of stone were as clean as marble, and the
water between was as clear as crystal; the fan-palms and luxuriant
bushes spread a cooling shade over the pools, and everything conspired
to form a spot that might be consecrated to the wood-nymphs and to the
deities of the streams. It was a place most tempting for a bath—a
pleasure from which I had been long debarred. The noxious properties
of the waters which I had hitherto visited, as well as the dread of
fever, had obliged me to forego all such pastimes; but now I thought I
might indulge without fear of evil consequences. Fish are here so
abundant, that whoever bathes is liable to find himself molested by
their bites.

I rambled about the woods on the slopes of the opposite valley, and
made many an interesting discovery. In great luxuriance grew a
remarkable cucumber (_Cucumis Tinneanus_), which is covered by curious
and long appendages. Throughout the district of Mvolo a shrub, which
has already been naturalised in our conservatories under the name of
_Tinnea æthiopica_, is particularly plentiful; its wood is used by the
Nubians for pipe-stems. Its boughs, like those of the weeping-willow,
trail to the ground. I gazed with silent emotion on a plant which
seemed to mourn the fate of the brave traveller by whom, with her
tender appreciation of the beauties of nature, it had formerly been
delineated.

At a short distance to the north was pointed out to me the village of
Dugwara, where the natives, as we could hear, were performing on their
nogara.

[Sidenote: DUGWARA.]

I had now reached a point at which my route, for the first time since
I left the Meshera of the Bahr-el-Ghazal, came in contact with
localities whose position is pretty well determined. Mvolo itself had
never been actually visited by its former owners, but in 1859 Jules
Poncet, during the course of his extensive elephant hunts, had crossed
the Rohl somewhere below this spot.[39] The route of the British
Consul, J. Petherick, in 1863, lay along the opposite bank of the
Rohl, and through Dugwara. My own surveys, corresponding as they did
with other routes which had preceded my own, offered very satisfactory
results; they agreed very accurately in establishing the position
which had been assigned to the Meshera on Arrowsmith’s map[40] of
Petherick’s travels between 1858 and 1863, so that I had occasion
hardly at all to shift the geographical position of Dugwara. On all
earlier maps the Meshera was invariably marked too, far to the west,
and the Gazelle was carried half a degree beyond its actual length.
The time I occupied, both on my outward and homeward journey, in the
navigation of the river, allowed me ample opportunity to verify the
correctness of these calculations of my own. I do not know what
materials Arrowsmith had at command to authorize him in making the
fortunate amendment; Petherick certainly did not agree with the
alterations, and, according to his computation, the longitude of this
section of his route on the Rohl would have been twenty miles farther
eastwards than on Arrowsmith’s map—a position which, for various
reasons, must be improbable.

I had to undergo many little discomforts before leaving this
interesting region. The black soldiers and slaves belonging to the
Seriba thought that, because I was a white man, I must be the actual
brother of the owner, and accordingly they came to me with all kinds
of grievances. Contrary to the Controller’s orders, a number of
Niam-niam soldiers insisted on following me everywhere, and I was
obliged to remonstrate with them rather sharply, to make them
understand that I could not permit them to join my people, and that my
retinue was large enough already. The female slaves betook themselves
for refuge to my hut, bringing their complaints of the rough usage
they received from their angry owners, but which it was only too
probable they deserved for their faithlessness. The Nubians, on their
part, were loud in demanding judgment from me as to their claims on
some or other of these runaway women. I can only say that I was very
glad to make my escape, and to find myself afresh upon my journey to
the west. I was accompanied by a small herd of cows, calves, and
sheep—a present from the controller, who, moreover, forced an
excellent donkey upon my acceptance.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER WOHKO.]

After a stiff march of seven leagues and a-half, through a district
with few watering-places, and little interest beyond occasional clumps
of the lofty kobbo-tree,[41] we were once more in the territory of the
Mittoo, and had reached one of Poncet’s smaller Seribas, called Legby.
There was a second Seriba, named Nyoli, about three leagues to the
south-east, which I did not visit, as its inhabitants were all busied
with a grand _battue_ for elands. These Seribas in the Mittoo country
had only been founded in the previous year—they were on the direct
road to the Monbuttoo, and had been intentionally pushed forward
towards the territory of the Madi, in order to ensure advantageous
quarters for elephant-hunting. The greater part of this region, which
previously had been a sort of No-man’s-land, had been recently
appropriated to himself by a successful _coup_ of the enterprising
Aboo Sammat. From Legby to Ngahma was another five and one-third
leagues. The road descended, in a W.N.W. direction, straight down to
the Wohko, which we now crossed for the fourth time. We had also to
ford two other of the rivulets that traverse the country, which is a
good deal broken by hills and eminences. The ground had been quite
cleared by the burning of the steppe, and although there had been no
rain, a number of perennial plants were sprouting up and covering the
bare surface of the soil with their variegated bloom. Many of the
trees, such as the _Combreta_ and _Butyrosperma_, of which the flowers
appear before the foliage, were in full blossom. Two especially
attracted my attention, because they entirely fail in more northern
regions—these were the _Xeropetalum_, with its beautiful bright-red
flowers, not unlike mallows, and the _Stereospermum_, which bore
grotesque bunches of bloom, resembling red thimbles. They were both in
their full beauty, and to some extent reminded me of the floral
luxuriance of the Abyssinian highlands.

While in Ngahma, I heard that Aboo Sammat, with his entire fighting
force, had withdrawn from Sabby, for the purpose of inspecting his
numerous Seribas in the south. It was his first year of possession,
and he had gone to feel his way, preparatory to the taxation of the
country. Meanwhile, all provisions had been exhausted in Sabby, and if
I had ventured to return thither, it would have been at the risk of
being starved. I therefore myself resolved to pursue my course in a
southerly direction, in order to cast in my lot with Aboo Sammat,
until the time drew near for our expedition to the Niam-niam country.
The first halting-place at which we arrived, after a march of seven
leagues, was the little Seriba Karo, in the Madi district. The road
passed to the S.S.E. by a small mound of granite, of which the sterile
flats were inhabited by rock-rabbits; we then advanced over granite
flats until we reached a spot where an extensive table-land lay open
to the south. Once again we crossed the Wohko, and proceeded along its
right bank. The river here has all the characteristics of a periodical
stream, and was now standing in lagoon-like basins. The width of the
stony bed, and the deep holes washed in the huge blocks of granite,
which are covered to a considerable height with the mossy
_Podostemmonea_, are proofs of the abundance and violence of the water
in the height of the rainy season. Looking W.S.W., I was greatly
surprised by the unexpected sight of some elevated rocky peaks.
Amongst them, and about four leagues distant, was the point called
Wohba, near Deraggo, which I afterwards visited. This isolated range
extends as far as the Wohko, and there terminates in a ridge 80 to 100
feet in height. Near Karo the stream forms a defile 40 to 50 feet
deep, enclosed by regular hills. The banks, which were very steep,
were concealed by the impenetrable shade of magnificent trees
(_Hexalobus_), reminding me very much of the true chestnut.

The Mittoo display a remarkable talent for music, and construct a
great variety of instruments. The most important of these is a lyre
with a sounding-board, not unlike the robaba used by the people of
Nubia. The soldiers in all the Seribas manifest their African origin
by the zeal with which in their leisure they practise the musical art.
I noticed one of the Madi with a bamboo flute of quite an European
pattern, and at my request he played what was really a very pretty
air, which must have cost him considerable time and trouble to learn,
so perfect were the separate modulations: when the Nubians heard him
they paid him the compliment of saying that he played as well as any
Frank musician in Alexandria.

From Karo I went on still southwards for three leagues to Reggo,
another small Seriba belonging to Poncet’s company, and where the
elephant-hunters were quartered. The road thither led chiefly through
cultivated fields that had been planted with Penicillaria. I also for
the first time observed the culture of the sweet potato (_Batatas_), a
favourite food of the Niam-niam. This had a singularly sweet taste,
and a purplish rind, which occasionally deviated into white; the
largest tubers of this in the Madi country never exceed the thickness
of a finger.

[Sidenote: RECENT SCARCITY OF ELEPHANTS.]

The Poncets had founded settlements in this part of the country in
order to hold their own against the wide incursions which Aboo Sammat
was making from his territory in the same direction. The company laid
claim to the sole right of ranging the district, a demand which was
only consistent with their original interest in the ivory produce. The
hunters are called “Sayadeen,” because they are armed with huge
rifles, which have been gradually introduced into the country from
Khartoom. Only a few days previously they had killed two elephants,
which represented a whole year’s success. In former years the Poncets
had commanded the expeditions in person, and then a corps of these
hunters would in a single year secure as much ivory as would equal the
largest quantity now gathered from the aggregate of the Niam-niam
lands. Although the period of which I speak was not more than fourteen
years ago, these large collections have become completely things of
the past. In the present Seriba district, it is now expected to make a
journey of some days before there is any likelihood of catching sight
of an elephant at all; the wary beasts, too, appear instinctively to
know the regions in which they can be safe. They live to a great age,
and I do not doubt but that all the oldest representatives of the
elephant community have been at some time or other attacked by man,
and that many have been actually under fire. In the Dinka country
there are places such as I have already mentioned, in the woods of the
Alwady tribe, where elephants may be seen during the rainy season.
When I asked the Khartoomers why they did not go and get the ivory
themselves, they always replied that such hunting would be a sorry
failure, and that while they were shooting the elephants the natives
would be shooting _them_.

In Reggo the soldiers were fond of breeding dogs, and the Seriba
literally swarmed with the fat pups of the Niam-niam breed. I found,
moreover, that the people managed to do a little quiet business for
themselves by bartering dogs for slaves to the Mittoo. Dog’s flesh,
too, they enjoyed as much as the Niam-niam, and the price given for an
animal affords a proof of the relish they have for the dainty; the
teeth form a favourite ornament for necklaces and stomachers.

The first of January, 1870, appeared, beginning a new link in the
unbroken chain of time. It was the second New Year that I had
commenced in Central Africa, and although for me the day passed
quietly and with no rejoicing, yet I was filled with thoughts of
gratitude that I had been spared so long. Although one cloud and
another might appear to loom in the uncertain future, yet the
confidence I felt in my acclimatisation enabled me with good courage
to proceed upon my wanderings.

[Illustration: Goggo, a Mittoo-Madi Chief.]

The next place that we reached was Kurragera, the most southern point
of Aboo Sammat’s newly-acquired territory. The march had occupied
about five hours, and on our way we had for the sixth time crossed the
Wohko. Previously we had halted in the village of one of the Madi
elders, who bore the melodious name of Kaffulukkoo; I had also the
honour of an introduction to another chief, called Goggo, of whom I
was able to secure a portrait. His imposing peruke was not of his own
hair, nor indeed was it hair at all, but consisted of an artificial
tissue of woven threads, which were soaked with yellow ochre and
reeking with grease.

[Sidenote: KURRAGERA.]

Kurragera’s Seriba, like Aboo Sammat’s other settlements, had been
entirely cleared of its soldiers, and only the local overseer of the
Madi remained to look after the corn-stores. Inside the palisade were
piled thousands of the bearers’ loads, each neatly packed into a
circular bundle, and protected by the simple and effectual coverings
made by the natives from leaves and straw. These packages contained a
preliminary portion of the corn-stores. Almost every product of the
soil that I have described in Chapter VI. was here to be seen, and in
addition were the sweet potatoes cultivated by the Madi.

Aboo Sammat at this time, with his whole available fighting force, was
encamped on the Wohko about three leagues to the south. With the help
of 250 soldiers, and more than 300 Bongo and Mittoo bearers, he had
put the entire country in the south and south-east, from beyond the
Rohl nearly as far as the frontiers of the so-called Makkarakkah,
under contribution. The tribes in the more immediate neighbourhood
were the Madi-Kaya, the Abbakah, and Loobah, which manifestly occupied
the same district to which, in 1863, Petherick’s agent Awat made an
expedition. Many chiefs submitted voluntarily to the taxation; others
remained hostile for a period, but afterwards surrendered all their
stores to the enemy _à discrétion_. The region was so productive that
the number of bearers did not nearly suffice to carry away the goods
that had been seized. The enterprise was accomplished without any loss
of blood.

I was compelled to stay for some days in Kurragera to await Aboo
Sammat’s return, and began to get somewhat weary, as amongst the flora
I could find little that was suitable for my collection; I had besides
used up all the pencils I had brought with me, and was obliged to
write with hen’s blood. Meanwhile, as in Awoory and Ngahma, I
continued my study of the Mittoo language, and took a great deal of
pains to unravel the intricacies of the Madi method of counting, to
which I shall have another occasion to refer hereafter.

The butter-trees were now in full bloom. The milky juice that exudes
from the stems of these trees reminds one of gutta-percha, which is a
secretion of a species of the same order of plants (_Sapotaceæ_). I
often saw the children making balls with the lumps of caoutchouc,
which served as universal playthings. In 1861, Franz Binder, the
Transylvanian, formerly a merchant in Khartoom, brought a
hundredweight of this india-rubber to Vienna, but although the
material turned out very well in a technical point of view, the cost
of its transport was too great for it ever to become an important
article in the commerce of these lands.

On the 7th of January, Aboo Sammat, with the greater number of his
soldiers and bearers, returned to the Seriba. He wished to display his
authority in a way that should make an impression upon me, and
therefore set apart an entire day for festivities on a large scale.
His people were divided according to their tribes into groups of 500,
and each of these had to execute war-dances worthy of their commander.
Aboo Sammat himself seemed ubiquitous; in a way that no other Nubian
would have done without fancying himself degraded, he arrayed himself
like a savage, and at one time with lance and shield, at another with
bow and arrow, danced indefatigably at intervals from morning till
night at the head of the several groups; he was a veritable
Nyare-Goio, _i.e._, master of the ceremonies; here he was dancing as a
Bongo, there as a Mittoo; then he appeared in the coloured skin apron
of the Niam-niam, and next in the costume of a Monbuttoo: he was at
home everywhere, and had no difficulty in obtaining all the necessary
changes of apparel. Several of the Bongo of Sabby exhibited a talent
for theatrical representations, and to the great delight of the
Nubians they enacted the scene of how Aboo Sammat surprised and
thrashed the Mukhtar Shereefee; they improvised a recitative
accompanied by corresponding action, the purport of which was to tell
how Mukhtar was hit with a stick, and tumbled into the straw hedge
crying like a Deloo-buck, “ba mi oah!” (alas! alas!). Then followed
the refrain, “Madrislalla, illalla, illalla.” Between the parts there
was an incessant firing; the guns were loaded with whole handfuls of
powder, so that it was several minutes before the clouds of smoke
rolled away from the groups of dancers. The continual noise and dust
tired me far more than the longest day’s march I had ever undertaken.

[Sidenote: SPEECH OF THE KENOOSIAN.]

On the following day the Kenoosian convoked an assembly of the
newly-subjugated chiefs of the Madi, and in a long speech impressed
upon them their obligations. I was a witness of the characteristic
scene, and as the interpreter freely translated sentence by sentence
to the negroes, I did not lose a word of Mohammed’s oration. With
terrible threats and imprecations he began by depicting in the
blackest colours the frightful punishments that awaited them if they
should disobey his orders, while at the same time he plumed himself
upon his magnanimity.

“Look you!” he said; “I don’t want your wives and children, nor do I
intend to take your corn, but you must attend to the transport of my
provisions; and I insist that there shall be no delay, or else the
people in the Seriba will starve. You, Kuraggera, must go to your
villages, and gather together old and young, men and women: get all
the boys who can carry anything, and all the girls who bring water
from the brook, and you must order them one and all to be here early
to-morrow; every one of them will have to convey the corn to Deraggo;
the bales are of all sizes, and each may carry in proportion to his
strength. But mark you this: if one of the bearers runs away, or if he
throws down his load, I will tear out your eyes; or if a package is
stolen, I will have your head.” And here Mohammed lifted a huge weapon
like the sword of an ancient German knight, and brandished it rapidly
over the head of the Madi chieftain. Then turning to another, he
proceeded: “And I have something to say to you, Kaffulukkoo; I know
that Poncet’s people have been here lately, and have carried off two
elephants; now how did they contrive to find them? Bribed you were,
bribed so that you sent messengers to inform them where the elephants
might be found. And you, Goggo, why do you permit such proceedings in
your district? Now listen: if Poncet’s people come back, you must
shoot them; this must not happen again, or you shall pay for it with
your life; and if any one of you takes ivory to a strange Seriba, I
will have him burnt alive. Now, I think you understand pretty well
what you ought to do. But I have something else to say, just to
caution you in case you may have any intention of injuring my people.
Perhaps, as a Turk may be walking alone, the negroes may creep into
the grass, and shoot him with their arrows: what of that? Rats may
bury themselves in the ground, and frogs and crabs may hide in their
holes, but there is a way, you know, to find them out; snakes may
creep about in the straw, but to that we can set fire. Or, perhaps,
you will try to burn the steppes over our heads: never mind, I can
light a fire too, and you shall pay dearly for your treachery. Do as
you did before, and run away to the caves at Deraggo, and I will shoot
you there with shitata (cayenne pepper) from my elephant rifle, and
you will soon be glad enough, half choked and stupefied, to come out
again and beg for mercy. Or, supposing the negroes try and poison the
shallow khor, and any Turks drink that water and die—don’t be
expecting to fly away like birds, or to escape my vengeance!” And much
more there was in the same strain.

I had sent my cattle from Ngahma direct to Sabby, and, after laying in
a sufficient stock of provisions, I prepared to return as soon as I
could to my head-quarters, in order to have time to complete the
necessary arrangements for the campaign in the Niam-niam countries.
Before leaving Kurragera, I witnessed another amusing scene in Aboo
Sammat’s endeavours to make the chiefs understand the number of
bearers he required. Like most other people of Africa, the Madi can
only count up to ten, everything above that number having to be
denominated by gestures. At last some bundles of reeds were tied
together in tens, and then the negro, although he could not express
the number, comprehended perfectly what was required of him. Kurragera
was obliged to furnish 1530 bearers, and being asked whether he
understood, made an affirmative gesture, took the immense bundle of
reeds under his arm, and walked off gravely to his village. We moved
on through the day in company with an enormous train of 2000 bearers
of both sexes and of every age. Keeping on continually in a northerly
direction, after a march of eight leagues we reached the Seriba
Deraggo. The Deraggo mountains were visible several leagues distant to
the north, and afforded some desirable stations for verifying my
route. By the side of one of the Roah tributaries, called Gooloo,
which, however, we did not cross, we halted for a while, and I
employed the interval in shooting guinea-fowl, ordinary poultry in
this district being somewhat scarce.

[Sidenote: DERAGGO.]

For the first time since I had quitted Egypt, I spent the night in
Deraggo without my bedding: the servant who had the charge of it had
left it behind in Kurragera. On all my tours, I never failed in being
extremely careful not to omit anything that without material expense
could contribute to my health and comfort. I had learnt enough to know
that the more the traveller contrives to spare himself exhaustion from
fatigue, the more he will be able ultimately to perform, and the
greater will be his security against the baneful influences of the
climate. A perfect, or even reliable, acclimatisation is not to be
thought of until after some years’ experience, and any attempt to
hasten it by rash exposure, or by unnecessary hardship, is quite
unavailing.

I spent one day in a visit to the neighbouring mountains, which, lying
about a league to the east of the Seriba, extended for about three
leagues to the north-east. The loftiest and most southerly peak is
called Wohba, and is about 500 feet high: it contains some remarkable
caves, which I had not time to visit; they were the same referred to
by Aboo Sammat when he threatened to drive out the Madi with
pepper-dust, a hint which might be taken by any future general who may
desire to smoke out the unhappy Bedouins from the caves of Algeria. I
contented myself with mounting an eminence about 300 feet high, called
Yongah. The western horizon and the mountains of Awoory were
unfortunately obscured by a dense smoke from the burning of the
steppe; but the little hills between Ngahma and Karo were distinctly
visible. I also noticed in the W.S.W. a mountain known as Gere, which
I afterwards saw again when returning from the Niam-niam countries, as
I was passing along the basin of the Lehssy. The chain of Deraggo is
formed of a bright-coloured gneiss. A valley broke in near the spot
which I explored, and along the entrance the Madi had dug a row of
pits forty feet deep for the purpose of catching elephants. Hither,
from a wide circuit, they hunt the animals, which, hastily rushing
into the valley, fall headlong into the trenches which have been
artfully concealed.

The Seriba Deraggo was situated in the eastern part of a valley gently
sloping towards the mountains. From the depth of this depression there
issued an important brook, whose bed at this season contained a series
of huge pools. We now again turned westwards towards the Roah, in
order that I might visit Kuddoo, the last of Aboo Sammat’s Seribas,
which lies exactly south of Dokkuttoo, and thirty miles higher up the
river. We were obliged to make a wide _détour_ to avoid the mountains,
and, after a stiff march for five leagues in a W.N.W. direction, we at
length reached our destination.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER ROAH.]

The Roah flows close by Kuddoo in a deep basin enclosed with forest,
and describes a semicircle about the Seriba. The river was now from
thirty to fifty feet wide; in the rainy season it is as much as
fifteen feet deep, whilst in the winter its depth rarely exceeds four
or five feet. The channel of the river was here entirely overarched
with verdure; in some places the lofty trees starting from the dense
woods met across the water, and formed bowers of foliage, whilst the
fallen stems below made natural bridges. Very feeble were the rays of
light that penetrated to the surface of the water, and the long
creepers trailed from the overhanging branches. The force of the
current caught the pendants, and made the tree-tops bend and the
leaves all rustle as though moved by the hands of spirits. Large
monkeys found congenial habitation in the branches, the river
vegetation offering many of the fruits on which they can subsist. At
times the beauty and abundance of the blossoms surpassed anything that
I had seen. Pre-eminent in splendour were the brilliant _Combreta_:
the masses of bloom gleamed like torches amid the dark green of the
thickets, whilst the golden sheen of the fruit intensified the marked
contrast of the tints. Any attempt to give a detailed account of the
beauties of Africa is entirely unavailing, and once again I refrain
from wearying the reader with any further repetition of my admiration.

Leaving Kuddoo, we marched for eight leagues near the left bank of the
Roah, and across the numerous little water-courses that intersect the
region, and flow down to the river on the right. At Degbe we
re-entered the road along which we had travelled on our outward trip,
and, passing through Dokkuttoo, we did not again quit our previous
route all the way to Sabby. As we approached Geegyee, the spot
notorious for the rapacity of the lion, my people betrayed an anxiety
still greater than upon their journey thither, for in Dokkuttoo the
intelligence had reached us that some lions had been again seen on the
previous day, and that several travellers who had come across them in
their march had only escaped by climbing up into the trees. This was a
circumstance that painted itself upon my fancy in such entertaining
details, that I could not resist the desire to see it acted out for my
own amusement. Accordingly, when we had reached the densest part of
the formidable forest, at a spot where the pathways were most crooked
and intricate, I bellowed out in the most despairing accents I could
command, the cry of “A lion! a lion!” In an instant the bearers had
flung down their burdens, and my brave Nubians scampered off to the
nearest tree. Nimbly as sailors up the rigging of a foundering ship,
did they clamber high into the boughs. I enjoyed my laugh as I made
them see what brave fellows they were.

We here saw in all directions the recent traces of numbers of
elephants, which must have crossed our path in many places during the
previous night. Our last bivouac was made on the banks of the Tudyee,
where we feasted on the flesh of two hartebeests, brought down from
among a number that had been feeding on the tender foliage of the
underwood. On the last day but one of the march, I had more exertion
than on any other of the twenty-four through which the excursion had
lasted; without once sitting down, I passed the entire day in hunting
and walking.

On the 15th of January I once more re-entered the hospitable huts of
Sabby, and was welcomed by the servants I had left behind, and almost
overpowered by the joyful caresses of my dogs. This tour to the east
had altogether extended over 210 miles, and I had thoroughly explored
the territory of a people who had hitherto been almost unknown, even
by name. I will now take a retrospect of the country I had just left,
and give a brief summary of my observations on its political
condition.

[Sidenote: THE MITTOO.]

In default of a national designation for a group of tribes speaking
almost the same dialect, and whose distinctive qualities appear mainly
in their slight differences of apparel, I should prefer to follow the
example of the Khartoomers, and call these people simply Mittoo; this
name, however, only really belongs to the most northerly of the group,
who call themselves Mittoo, or Mattoo, and there are four other tribes
who consider themselves equally distinct and independent, viz., the
Madi,[42] the Madi-Kaya, the Abbakah, and the Loobah. Their collective
country lies between the rivers Roah and Rohl, and for the most part
is situated between lat. 5° and 6° N. Towards the north it stretches
far as the territories of the Dinka tribes of the Rohl and Agar; on
the south it is bounded by the eastern extremity of the Niam-niam,
where the name of Makkarakkah has already been adopted in our maps.
But Makkarakkah and Kakkarakkah is a designation which the Mittoo use
for the Niam-niam taken in the gross, and not the name of any single
tribe. Out of their own mouth, whenever I referred to the soil upon
which I was standing, I had every proof that the Mittoo call their
land “Moro,” a name which Petherick on his map has attributed to the
entire district between lat. 4° 30´ and 6° N., which extends eastwards
from the Rohl to the Ayi.

All the Mittoo tribes are able to converse with each other, as their
languages present only such minor differences of dialect as might be
supposed would arise from their independent political position; the
Niam-niam, on the other hand, with just the same plurality of tribes,
preserve a uniformity of language which admits of scarcely any
variety. The Mittoo dialects in some of their sounds resemble that of
the Bongo, but taken as a whole, like all the distinctive languages of
the larger nations of the Gazelle, the Mittoo and the Bongo have very
little in common. As far as regards customs, dress, and household
appliances, it must be admitted that the Mittoo tribes most nearly
resemble the Bongo, and it almost might seem as if, in the history of
their development, they formed a transition between them and the
Niam-niam.

The subjection of the Mittoo to the Khartoomers must not be dated
earlier than the year preceding my visit. Although the country in a
limited sense had to a certain extent been partitioned amongst the
arbitrary and advancing companies of the Upper Nile, and
notwithstanding that its inhabitants had been in places reduced to a
condition of vassalage similar to that under which the Dyoor and Bongo
had been smarting for the last ten years, yet the entire subjugation
of the southern tribes, the Loobah and Abbakah in particular, might
still be described as incomplete. The Abbakah hitherto have been only
occasionally subject to the incursions of slave-catchers and
corn-stealers, and therefore they have neither the advantages nor the
disadvantages, whatever they may be, of actual vassals.

In the scale of humanity all the Mittoo tribes are decidedly inferior
to the Bongo: they are distinguished from them by a darker complexion,
and by a bodily frame less adapted to sustain exertion or fatigue.
During my visit to the Niam-niam countries, I had many opportunities
of seeing large bodies of bearers of both races, side by side, and was
then able to institute comparisons between the two. The Bongo vied
with each other in their powers of endurance, and would subsist for a
length of time upon mere roots without any perceptible change in their
appearance, whilst the Mittoo under the same ordeal would waste almost
to skeletons, and in a very short time would abandon all attempt at
work. Even in their own homes I hardly ever saw them with the
strongly-built frames of the sturdy Bongo. Nearly all the Mittoo who
were employed as bearers were afflicted with the guinea-worm. An
undesirable prerogative is this that the race have gained, that they
should nurture such a thorn in the flesh; for the guinea-worm is far
from universal, and makes selections as to what diversities of human
nature it shall choose to patronise.

[Sidenote: FERTILITY OF MITTOO COUNTRY.]

I failed to obtain any satisfactory explanation of this debility of
the Mittoo; their land is very productive, they are diligent
agriculturists, and they cultivate many a variety of cereals and
tuberous plants, as well as of oily and leguminous fruits. On account
of its fertility the land requires but little labour in its culture,
and throughout its extent displays a productiveness which is only
found for any continuance at rare intervals in the other countries
that I visited. It is especially noticeable between lat. 5° and 5° 30´
N., in the districts on the upper Roah and Wohko, which are liberal
stores for the sterile Nubian settlements on either hand. The district
of the Mbomo, which is adjacent to that of the Nganye of the
Niam-niam, between the rivers Lehssy and Roah, is also pre-eminent
among its neighbours for its extensive growth of maize.

[Illustration: Goat of the Bongo, Mittoo, Momwu, and Babuckur.]

The Mittoo breed the same domestic animals as the Bongo, viz., goats,
dogs, and poultry; they possess no cattle, and are on that account
ranked by the Dinka under the contemptuous designation of “Dyoor,”
which is intended to be synonymous with savages. They estimate the
dog, however, in a very different way from the Bongo, and by their
fondness for its flesh show that they are not many grades above the
cannibal. Bernardin de S. Pierre, in his ‘Études de la Nature,’ gives
it as his opinion that to eat dog’s flesh is the first step towards
cannibalism; and certainly, when I enumerate to myself the peoples
whom I visited who actually, more or less, devoured human flesh, and
find that among them dogs were invariably considered a delicacy, I
cannot but believe that there is some truth in the hypothesis.

[Sidenote: MUTILATION OF LIPS.]

The whole group of the Mittoo exhibits peculiarities by which it may
be distinguished from its neighbours. The external adornment of the
body, the costume, the ornaments, the mutilations which individuals
undergo—in short, the general fashions—have all a distinctive
character of their own. The most remarkable of their habits is the
revolting, because unnatural, manner in which the women pierce and
distort their lips; they seem to vie with each other in their
mutilations, and their vanity in this respect I believe surpasses
anything that may be found throughout Africa. Not satisfied with
piercing the lower lip, they drag out the upper lip as well for the
sake of symmetry.[43] To the observations I have made before about all
African tribes that in their attire they endeavour to imitate some
part of the animal creation, I may add that they seem to show a
special preference for copying any individual species for which they
have a particular reverence. In this way it frequently happens that
their superstition indirectly influences the habits of their daily
life, and that their animal-worship finds expression in their dress.
It is, however, difficult to find anything in nature collateral with
the adornment of the Mittoo women; and it surpasses all effort to
understand what ideal they can have in their imagination when they
extend their lips into broad bills. If our supposition be correct, the
Mittoo fashion perhaps only indicates a partiality for the spoonbills
and the shovellers with which these ladies may have some spiritual
affinity. The projections of the iron-clad lips are of service to give
effect to an outbreak of anger, for by means of them the women can
snap like an owl or a stork, or almost as well as the _Balæniceps
Rex_.

[Illustration: Lory, a Mittoo Woman.]

Circular plates nearly as large as a crown piece, made variously of
quartz, of ivory, or of horn, are inserted into the lips that have
been stretched by the growth of years, and these often rest in a
position that is all but horizontal; and when the women want to drink
they have to elevate the upper lip with their fingers, and to pour the
draught into their mouths.

[Illustration: Wengo, a Mittoo Woman.]

Similar in shape is the decoration which is worn by the women of
Maganya; but though it is round, it is a ring and not a flat plate; it
is called a “pelele,” and has no other object than to expand the upper
lip. Some of the Mittoo women, especially the Loobah, not content with
the circle or the ring, force a cone of polished quartz through the
lips as though they had borrowed an idea from the rhinoceros. This
fashion of using quartz belemnites of more than two inches long is in
some instances adopted by the men.

[Sidenote: MITTOO GARMENTS.]

The women of the Madi correspond in their outward garb with the Mittoo
in general; they make use of a short garment of mixed leaves and grass
like the Bongo. The men adopt the same kind of skin covering for their
loins as the Bongo, but they have one decoration which seems peculiar
to themselves; they wear in front something after the style of the
“rahad” of the Soudan or the “isimene” of the Kaffirs—a short
appendage made of straps of leather, ornamented by rings and scraps of
iron; but it is so narrow that it has almost the look of a
cat-o’-nine-tails. There are others who buckle on to their loins a
triangular skin which has every variety of rings and iron knick-knacks
fastened round its edge.

[Illustration: Loobah Woman.]

[Illustration: Cone of quartz worn in the lip (actual size).]

Occasionally there were to be seen some broad girdles covered with a
profusion of cowries, such as the Niam-niam were said to wear; but
hitherto the Madi were the only people I had met with who retained any
value for cowries, which for some time had ceased to be held in much
repute in the Gazelle district. The mode of wearing these conchylia
was to split off their convex backs and to fasten them on so as to
display only the white orifices.

[Illustration: Apron worn by the Madi.]

Like the northern Bongo the Mittoo disdain devoting their attention to
the decoration of their hair: men and women alike wear it quite short.
The portrait of Goggo has already furnished a representation of one of
their elaborate perukes.

The plucking out of the eyelashes and the eyebrows is quite an
ordinary proceeding among the women. The men have coverings for their
head the same as the Niam-niam. The accompanying portrait of Ngahma
shows such an article of headgear, suggesting the comparison either of
a Russian coachman’s hat, or of the cap of a mandarin. They are very
fond likewise of fixing a number of iron spikes to a plate which they
fasten behind the head, and to these they attach strings of beads and
tufts of hair. The Madi make also a sort of cap rather prettily
ornamented with coloured beads and which fits the head tight like a
skull-cap.

It is only among the men that tattooing is practised on a large scale,
the lines usually radiating from the belly in the direction of the
shoulders like the buttons on certain uniforms; the women merely have
a couple of parallel rows of dotted lines upon the forehead. The
variety is very great of the ornaments which they construct out of
iron and copper, consisting of bells, drops, small axes and anchors,
diminutive rings, and platters, and trinkets of every sort. All the
women wear a host of rings in their ears.

[Sidenote: MITTOO ORNAMENTS.]

These tribes have the same liking for iron chains as the Niam-niam and
the Monbuttoo. Whatever they attach to their bodies they attach by
chains; and they are very inventive in their designs for armlets and
rings for the ankles. The armlets very often have a projecting rim,
which is provided with a number of spikes or teeth, which apparently
have no other object than to make a single combat as effective as
possible.

[Illustration: Ngahma, a Mittoo Chief.]

Even amongst these uncultured children of nature, human pride crops up
amongst the fetters of fashion, which indeed are fetters in the worst
sense of the word; for fashion in the distant wilds of Africa tortures
and harasses poor humanity as much as in the great prison of
civilisation. As a mark of their wealth, and for the purpose of
asserting their station in life, both sexes of the Mittoo wear chains
of iron as thick as their fingers, and of these very often four at a
time are to be noticed on the neck of the same individual. Necklaces
of leather are not unfrequently worn strong enough to bind a lion;
these impart to the head that rigidity of attitude given by the high
cravats at which we wonder so much when we look at the portraits of a
past generation. When the magnates of the people, arrayed in this
massive style, and reeking with oily fat, swagger about with sovereign
contempt amongst their fellow mortals, they are only as grand as the
slimy diplomatists, solemn and stiff, who strut along without
vouchsafing to unlock one secret from their wary lips. These necklaces
are fixtures; they are fastened so permanently in their place that
only death, decay, or decapitation can remove them. I was never
fortunate enough to see the mysterious operation by which these
circles were welded on, but I know that when the rings are soldered to
the arms and ankles, fillets of wood are inserted below the metal to
protect the flesh from injury.

[Sidenote: MITTOO MUSIC.]

Amongst the many particulars in which the Mittoo are inferior to the
Bongo, it may be noticed that their huts are not only smaller, but
that they are very indifferently built. Many of them could be covered
by a crinoline of lavish proportions. In their musical instruments,
however, and in their capabilities for instrumental performances, they
are far superior to any of their neighbours. Instead of the great
“manyinyee,” or wooden trumpet of the Bongo, they make use of long
gourd flasks with holes in the side. They have also a stringed
instrument which may be described as something between a lyre and a
mandolin; five strings are stretched across a bridge which is formed
from the large shell of the Anodont mussel; the sounding board is
quadrangular, covered with skin, with a circular sound-hole at each
corner. The instrument altogether is extremely like the “robaba” of
the Nubians, and constitutes one of many evidences which might be
adduced that the present inhabitants of the Nile Valley have some real
affinity with the tribes of the most central parts of Africa. The
flute is made quite on the European principle, and is most expertly
handled by the Madi, who bestow much attention on mastering particular
pieces. Small signal-horns made with three apertures are in general
use amongst the tribes of the district; but the slim trumpet called
“dongorah” is peculiar to the Mittoo; it is about eighteen inches
long, and resembles the “mburah” of the Bongo. Music is in high
estimation amongst the tribes which compose this group, and it may be
said of them that they alone have any genuine appreciation of melody,
negro music in general being mere recitative and alliteration. I once
heard a chorus of a hundred Mittoo singing together; there were men
and women, old and young, and they kept admirable time, succeeding in
gradual cadence to procure some very effective variations of a
well-sustained air.

[Illustration: Mittoo Lyre.]

[Illustration: Mittoo air.]

The implements in general differed very little from the industrial
contrivances of the Bongo. Their iron-work is rougher and clumsier;
but they take a great deal of pains in forming their arrow-tips,
having scores of devices for shaping the barbs. One of their ordinary
utensils is a crescent-cut ladle with a long handle for stirring their
soup.

Graves, for the most part are seen like those of the Bongo; they
consist of a heap of stones supported by stakes, on which is placed
the flask from which the deceased was accustomed to drink; both Mittoo
and Bongo too, as might be conjectured, have the same method of
disposing of their dead, and erect the carved wood penates which have
been already mentioned.

The use of the bow and arrow gives the Mittoo a certain warlike
superiority over the Dinka, and among their neighbours they are
considered to surpass the Bongo in their dexterity in archery. Their
bows are four feet long, and of an ordinary form. Like the Monbuttoo,
who have shorter bows, they use wooden arrows which are about three
feet in length. The heads of these arrows reach to the middle of the
length. The Mittoo despise the cumbrous protection of a shield, but
they are careful to keep a liberal supply of spears.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [38] Bruce (vol. v., description of plate 24) expressly
     mentions the circumstance of the soft flesh standing up
     high on both sides of the indentation.

     [39] ‘Le Fleuve Blanc: Notes géographiques de Jules
     Poncet,’ is the best publication on the White Nile that I
     know. It gives reliable details of J. Poncet’s interesting
     journey, and specifies many characteristics, founded on
     some years’ experience, of the different people of the
     district.

     [40] Journal R. G. S., vol. xxxv.

     [41] A new species of _Humboldtia_ which unites the
     characteristics of the _Berlinia_ with those of the
     _Crudya_.

     [42] These Madi, whose name is of frequent occurrence in
     Africa, have no connexion with the Madi of the upper part
     of the Bahr-el-Gebel.

     [43] The mutilation of both lips was also observed by
     Rohlfs among the women of Kadje, in Segseg, between Lake
     Tsad and the Benwe.




                               CHAPTER X.

  Preparations for Niam-niam campaign. Generosity of Aboo Sammat.
     Organisation of the caravan. Ceremonies at starting. Banner
     of Islam. Travelling costume. Terminalia forest. Hartebeest
     chase. Ahmed the Liar. Prospect from Mbala Ngeea. Bivouac on
     the Lehssy. Camp noises at night. Story of cannibalism. Ahmed’s
     fate. The Ibba. First meeting with Niam-niam. Growth of the
     popukky-grass. Elephant-hunting among the Niam-niam. Surprise
     at the white man. Visit to Nganye. A chieftain’s household.
     Entertainment by Nganye. Gumba. Colocasia. A Niam-niam minstrel.
     Beauty of the Zawa-trees. Encephalartus on the hill of Gumango.
     Cultivated districts on the Rye. Condition of hamlets and farms.
     Devastation of Bendo’s district. Contest with the soldiers.
     Escape from a bullet. Identity of the Sway and the Dyoor. The
     law of drainage. Passage of the Manzilly. First primeval forest.
     Frontier wildernesses. Organisation in the geography of plants.
     Importance of guinea-fowl to the traveller. Feeding the bearers.
     National diet.


Three months had thus elapsed in almost uninterrupted wanderings, but
I found on my return to Sabby that I could spare only a short reprieve
for recruiting. Previous to starting on the laborious expedition to
the Niam-niam, to which under the guidance of my protector I had
pledged myself, there remained only a fortnight. A score of packages
had to be fastened up, many a trunk had to be arranged, clothes had to
be provided, implements of many sorts to be secured, ammunition and
arms to be put in readiness for the projected excursion into a hostile
territory, where we proposed to pursue our way for six months to come.
In addition to this provision for the future, I had to make good the
arrears in my diary, to get through all my correspondence for the
current year, and to provide for the remittance of my valuables to
distant Europe. All this had to be accomplished in the space of
fourteen days.

Nor could domestic demands afford to be overlooked. My household
required a vigilant supervision. The mere labour of washing our
clothes was considerable, although the accumulation of two months’
wear was by no means extensive. In order to perform the laundry work,
it was necessary to send to the river, a league and a half distant,
where the things could be rinsed out, dried, and bleached. On the
evening before our departure for what we called “the world’s end,” my
four-legged body-guard was suddenly enlarged by eight charming little
pups of the splendid Shillook breed. Of my Nubian servants, Hussein
was the oldest and the most experienced, and to him I entrusted the
responsibility of conveying in safety the newly-born animals, together
with my correspondence and all my collections, back to Ghattas’s
Seriba in Dyoor-land, which I still deemed my head-quarters. The
worthy fellow thus had the advantage of exchanging the prospect of a
roving life among the Niam-nian for the friendly life of the Seriba,
where, in the society of his countrymen, he might pass his time in
playing upon the robaba, in mastering the intricacies of the game of
mungala, or, while the gourd-shells of merissa went merrily round, in
joining in the chorus, rendered with a fine nasal twang, of
“Derderoah, derderoah el yum, derderoah, derdereh, ginyatohm.”

By the 29th of January, 1870, every preparation had been so far
advanced that the bulk of the caravan was set in motion. Mohammed Aboo
Sammat himself proposed to join the party in about a fortnight, as he
was compelled to go into the Mittoo district to secure some additional
bearers. My own retinue consisted of four Nubian servants, and three
negroes who were engaged as interpreters, one of them being a Bongo,
the other two genuine Niam-niam; besides these, there was a number of
Bongo bearers, which at first was about thirty, but in the course of
our progress was increased to forty. The whole of these were supplied
to me at the sole expense of Mohammed, whose hospitality I had now
been receiving for three months, and continued to enjoy to the end of
our excursion; not only throughout the period of eight months did he
entertain me and all my party whilst we were in his settlements, but
he entered most readily into all my wishes, and whenever I desired to
explore any outlying parts he would always lend me the protection of a
portion of his armed force.

[Sidenote: MOHAMMED ABOO SAMMAT.]

Never before had any European traveller in Central Africa such
advantageous conditions for pursuing his investigations; never
hitherto in the heart of an unknown land had there been anything like
the same number of bearers at his disposal, and that, too, in a region
where the sole means of transport is on the heads of the natives. All
the museums—particularly those which are appropriated to
botany—which have been enriched in any way by my journeyings are
indebted to Aboo Sammat for not a few of their novelties. Solely
because I was supported by him did I succeed in pushing my way to the
Upper Shary, more than 800 miles from Khartoom, thus opening fresh
districts to geographical knowledge and establishing the existence of
some enigmatical people.

Everything, moreover, that Mohammed did was suggested by his own
free-will. No compulsion of government was put upon him, no
inducements on my part were held out, and, what is more, no thought of
compensation for his outlay on myself or my party ever entered his
mind. The purest benevolence manifestly prompted him—the high virtue
of hospitality in its noblest sense. Whoever is actuated by the spirit
of adventure to penetrate into the heart of Africa, so as to make good
his footing amongst four different peoples, is undoubtedly a man of
energy; although he may not be spurred on by any scientific purpose,
and may simply be gratifying a desire to visit lands that are strange
and to enjoy sights that are rare, yet he must have succeeded in
vanquishing the thoughts which suggest that there is no place like
home, and which represent it as the merest folly to sacrifice domestic
ease for the fatigues, troubles, and privations which are inseparable
from the life of a wanderer.

Our caravan was joined on its way by a company of Ghattas’s from
Dangadduloo, conducted by a stout Dinka, whose acquaintance I had
already made at the Seriba where he resided. His party consisted of
500 bearers and 120 soldiers, and they contemplated, in conjunction
with a part of Aboo Sammat’s people, undertaking an expedition into
the ivory district of Keefa. That district was shut out from Ghattas’s
by the fact of the road towards it being the property of Aboo Sammat:
according to a convention entered into by the Nubians, a caravan of
one company was not to traverse a region appropriated by another,
unless an alliance for that purpose was made between the two. As the
result of this compact, it had come to pass that no less than fifteen
different roads, corresponding to the same number of different
merchant houses in Khartoom, branched out towards the south and west
from the localities of the Seribas into the remotest lands of the
Niam-niam.

Wherever two of these roadways intersect, a serious collision between
the parties concerned is almost certain to ensue. Any conductor of an
expedition is sure to endeavour to get the monopoly of all the ivory
into his own hands. The various native chieftains are prohibited from
disposing of their produce to any other agent than himself—a demand
which is enforced by violence—and rival companies are intimidated by
threats of action for trespass; in fact, no pains are spared to assert
a right as vigorously as possible.

[Sidenote: MITTOO BEARERS.]

An agreement had now been made according to which the leader of
Ghattas’s caravan was to accompany Aboo Sammat’s expedition as far as
his establishments in the Niam-niam lands, and afterwards was to be
allowed the protection of a military detachment to proceed towards the
west, Aboo Sammat himself having resolved to carry on his own main
body in the direction of the south. The bearers of the Ghattas party
from the east were all Mittoo, a tribe that is of much weaker frame
and less capable of sustaining fatigue than the Bongo, so that by the
time that they had reached Sabby, although it was only about four
days’ march, they had already a considerable number of invalids. Aboo
Sammat’s intention this year was to make his first experiment with the
Mittoo from the territories he had recently gained, and to try to
employ them as bearers in this enterprise among the Niam-niam. To be a
bearer is a service which demands a kind of apprenticeship, and no one
without practice is fitted for the continual strain and endurance
which it requires. The representations, moreover, which had been made
to these inexperienced Mittoo, both about the nature of the country
they would have to traverse and the cannibal propensities of the
people with whom they would be brought in contact, acted so powerfully
upon them that it was only under compulsion that they could be made to
enter upon the service at all. While, therefore, the Bongo bearers
were to be relied upon, and looked forward blithely to any fatigues
that might be before them, the Mittoo had to be scrupulously watched,
and by night to be carefully secured within the bounds of the palisade
to prevent their effecting an escape. On the very evening before we
started from Sabby a number of them ventured upon a combination to
revolt, and, in fact, got free into the open country. By the
assistance of the Bongo they were captured after an hour’s hard chase,
brought back into the Seriba, placed under closer guardianship, and
for a punishment were made to wear all night the yoke of the “shaba,”
which is ordinarily placed on the necks of slaves.

Swelling the numbers of our caravans there was a whole troop of women
and female slaves, and a crowd of negro lads who followed the soldiers
to carry their equipments. There was in addition a large herd of
cattle which the Ghattas party had plundered from the Dinka, and which
they drove with them to maintain themselves when they came to enter
upon the desolation of the desert. Aboo Sammat, never rich in cattle,
because he did not, in the same way as his neighbours, indulge in
plundering the Dinka, had certainly made no superfluous provision for
the needs of his people; but for myself there was an abundant supply
of calves, sheep, and goats still remaining from the liberal presents
that had been made me in Mvolo during my excursion to the Rohl.
Whenever an animal was killed, I invariably shared the meat with the
Nubians, and they were always ready to return the favour as often as
they slaughtered any of their own. My people’s necessities were thus
supplied, whilst personally I was continually provided by Aboo Sammat
with the choicest morsels as long as there was any choice to be made.
But where property fails, even Cæsar must forego his rights; and days
of scarcity did arrive, when for my servants there was nothing, and
for myself there was next to nothing, to be had.

It will readily be imagined that for a colony of nearly 800 people a
start in single file was not effected in a moment: it was quite midday
before I commenced any movement at all. Several days had to elapse,
and no little patience had to be tried, before things fell into
anything like regularity. Of all men in the world, perhaps the Nubians
are the most disorderly. Method is altogether alien to their nature;
they loathe it after the unshackled freedom they are accustomed to
indulge; they have no idea of any advantages arising from mutual
co-operation, and accordingly they look upon any approach to order
only as a token of individual bondage.

[Sidenote: MANAGING THE NUBIANS.]

Amongst a body of men actuated by such sentiments, any thought of
discipline, according to our ideas, is entirely out of the question.
Only that master can at all hope to succeed in exercising any
authority who understands how to get upon the weak side of their
character. By this means he may perchance attain what he wants in a
way which a Turk, even by the extremest severity, could never
accomplish. He may prevail, for instance, by slipping in at the right
time an allusion to brotherhood, or by an appeal to honour and to the
value of one’s word; or he may invoke the religious sentiment by
reminding the Nubian of his being a Mohammedan, “Thou art a Moslem;”
or again, by holding out a bribe, such as a fresh slave or a good
payment, he may reduce a cantankerous spirit to subjection; but
whatever is done has to be effected craftily and with a good deal of
insinuation and gentle coaxing. No one understood all these artifices
better than Aboo Sammat, who was utterly regardless of all
consequences and could behave like a perfect tyrant as soon as ever he
had established a control. On account of my own position amongst the
Nubians I had to renounce most of these little artifices, but,
nevertheless, I had my own special resources. A piece of wit, brought
to bear at the right place and at the right time, very seldom failed
to be of essential service. Although a capacity for appreciating wit
must in a way be considered local and limited in its compass, yet it
hardly admits of dispute that there is no nation of the world entirely
without its sense of humour. The botanist Fortune, who made his
laborious investigations in China, has left it upon record that he
only succeeded by mother-wit in gaining access to a people which had
previously resisted every effort towards the least familiar
intercourse with them. A faculty of bantering a little may be of
considerable service to assist the progress of a traveller; and I may,
perhaps, be allowed to relate what follows as an instance of the mode
in which I attempted to proceed, and the example, perchance, may give
a trifling hint to those who may be disposed to follow in my wake.

I will assume that there was going to be some contention or other
between me and my people, as, for instance, that I had determined to
go to some particular mountain, and they held it as utterly useless to
go and camp in a desert while they had the chance of staying and
enjoying their merissa among their friends. Very rarely in Egypt do
people exchange a few words with one another without introducing the
term “ya Sheikh” as a mode of allocution. Even a father talking to his
son of a few years old will address him as “ya Sheikh.” In Nubia the
habit is not quite so general, but is common enough to be familiar and
to be entirely understood. Now, one of my people had once taken
umbrage at the word being addressed to him, and in ill-tempered
_pique_ he had repudiated the term, saying “Don’t sheikh me; I am no
sheikh.” I thought to myself that he should hear of this again; and
hear of it again he did.

Some weeks elapsed, and by chance an occasion arose when we were
discussing about a certain mountain, whether it were too far off or
too high for us to ascend. One of my party was arguing and trying to
satisfy the other, who was our cantankerous friend of old, and
happened to begin one of his appeals to him by saying “ya Sheikh.”
This was my chance; so I cried out, “O don’t sheikh him. Twice he has
himself told me that he is no sheikh; he is a lout. If he were a
sheikh, he would go with us to the mountain; but, because he is a
lout, he likes to stay behind and sip his beer.” A general laugh of
applause followed my little sally, and the joke was hailed with a
round of derision against the captious booby. This trifling
circumstance, perhaps, may illustrate the mode of dealing which
appeared to answer best, and I hope needs no excuse for the length at
which it is related.

Delay upon delay prevented our making a start, and Nubian-like we
consumed the day in getting ready. When the caravan did issue from the
Seriba, it proceeded, according to the usage of the country, under the
conduct of a banner carried ahead. The armed force was portioned out
in three divisions, each of which had its own flag. Aboo Sammat’s
banner was like the Turks’; it had the crescent and the star upon a
red ground: Ghattas, although he was a Christian, displayed the same
symbol of Islam, only red upon a white ground. At the start, two
captains, Ahmed and Badry, were put in charge. Of these I had already
made the acquaintance of the latter, during my excursion to the Rohl.
Aboo Sammat himself, as I have mentioned, had arranged, with the third
corps, to join the caravan somewhat later.

[Sidenote: BANNER OF ISLAM.]

At the outset of any expedition, whether it be a movement to the
river, a raid upon the cattle of the Dinka, or an excursion to the
Niam-niam, it is deemed an indispensable preliminary that a sheep
should be offered in sacrifice at the entrance of the Seriba. When
this has been accomplished, the procession is prepared to start, and
the standard-bearer lowers his flag over the victim, so that the
border of it may just touch the blood, and afterwards there is the
usual muttering of prayers. In truth, the banner of Islam is a banner
of blood. Bloodthirsty are the verses which are inscribed upon its
white texture; a very garland of cruel fanaticism and stern
intolerance is woven in the sentences from the Koran which, in the
name of the merciful God, declare war against all who deny the faith
that there is one God and that Mohammed is his prophet, and which
assert that his enemies shall perish from the face of the earth.

The sun was already in the zenith when we found our way to the arid
steppes; the heat was scorching, but I enjoyed having my dogs about
me, barking for joy at their liberation from the confinement of the
Seriba. Very memorable to me is still that day on which I took this
first decisive step towards the attainment of my cherished hopes. I
thought of that moonlight night as I left Khartoom, when upon the
glassy mirror of the White Nile I had kept my vigil of excited
interest, and now here I was making a still more decisive movement and
entering upon a still more important section of my enterprise. Now,
there was nothing to obstruct me from penetrating to the heart of
Africa far as my feet could carry me; now, as Mohammed said, I could
advance to the “world’s end,” and he would convey me on till even I
should acknowledge that we had gone far enough. But unfortunately my
vision of hope was doomed to be dispelled. Just at the moment when
curiosity was strained to its highest expectation, at the very time
when scientific ardour was kindled to go on into the very depths of
the mysterious interior, we were compelled to return. Had we only been
enabled to prosecute our journey as far again towards the south, I do
not entertain a doubt but that I should have been in a condition to
solve the problem of the sources of those three great rivers of the
west, the Benwe, the Ogowai, and the Congo.

Upon the first day’s march we only proceeded a few miles and camped
out beside the little stream Tudyee, of which the deeply-hollowed bed
was divided into two separate arms. In one of these arms a languid
current was passing on, but in the other, which was perfectly dry, I
took my repose for the remainder of the day, under the shade of a
grateful shrubbery which overhung its recesses. The revelry of a camp
life was not wanting; meat in abundance was boiled, roasted, and
broiled, and the festivity extended far into the night. As is ever the
case on the first encampment, the proximity to the settlements with
their ample provisions enables it to assume the aspect of a picnic.

The most valuable portion of my luggage was conveyed in twelve small
portmanteaus, carefully covered with hides: the remnant was carried in
chests and baskets. The rolls of paper were wrapped in sheets of
calico, which I had well soaked in fresh caoutchouc. I continued to
experience the great comfort of having my baggage conveyed by hand, so
that I had access at any stage of our progress to whatever I required.
It was hardly necessary to keep anything under lock and key, for
nothing could be stolen that would not at once betray the thief.
Everything was therefore open, and consequently very little time
comparatively was lost in preparing for the daily start. There was
only one thing to be guarded against, and that was the propensity of
the bearers to turn the packages upside down. It was necessary in this
particular to be always jogging the memory of the Bongo, who would
reply “mawah,” (I hear) and so everything would go safely along, over
sloughs and brooks and marshes, and across the steppes reeking with
dew, wherever the leader might desire.

[Sidenote: TRAVELLING COSTUME.]

Anxious to reach the village of the Bongo sheikh Ngoly, we made a
prolonged march on the next day. Proceeding through the most southerly
of the districts occupied by the Bongo, we kept still in the region
that belonged to Aboo Sammat. An hour or more before sunrise, as is
usual with these caravans, a general _réveil_ was sounded by drums and
trumpets, and a meal was made on the remains of the previous night’s
feast, as no halt was to be allowed for breakfast. A collection of
plants, however, has to be carefully handled, and while my people were
strapping up the packages, and the bearers and soldiers were forming
their line, I found a quiet half-hour to prepare myself a cup of tea,
and to arrange all my little matters for travelling. For the European
traveller no article of apparel is better adapted than an
old-fashioned waistcoat, with as many pockets as possible, into which
a watch, a compass, a note-book, a tinder-box with some matches, and
other articles of continual use may be stowed. A coat of any sort,
however light, becomes a burden upon a walking expedition; about the
arms it always uncomfortably obstructs the perspiration. A strong felt
hat with a broad brim is the best protection for the head; it is
preferable to the Turkish cap, but on account of the intense power of
the rays of the sun it cannot be worn immediately next the head. It
cannot have anything below it better than the red fez, which never
requires to be taken off; when rest is taken under the shade of some
spreading tree, it is quite sufficient to remove merely the felt hat.

The march was through a pleasant park-like country, and after crossing
a considerable number of fordable rivulets, we arrived about midday at
the huts of Ngoly. At Ngoly, over a surface of about eight square
miles, we found various groves of the _Terminalia macroptera_, having
very much the look of a wood of European oaks. In these regions any
continuance of a single species of tree or plant is very rare, and the
bush-forests are generally remarkable for the great diversity of
species which is found on a limited area. The Terminalia is to be
classed amongst that small number of trees of which regular groves, in
what we call forests, rise to the view. It grows, as may readily be
observed, upon the gentle depressions of a soil sufficiently rich, but
which is yet too dry for the formation of the tall grass of the
steppes, being watered only by currents which are formed during the
rains, and of which we crossed the remnants during the dry months of
winter. Between lat. 5° and 3° N., in the longitude under which we
were travelling, the equatorial zone of the continual rainfall
decidedly suffers an interruption, and the zenith altitudes of the sun
cannot be said to bear a due proportion to the largest annual fall of
rain.

The forests of the Terminalia are remarkable for the general
deficiency of undergrowth or bushwood which they exhibit, a
circumstance that arises from the general inability of woody plants to
endure so moist a soil. The large proportion of the trees and shrubs
of the country thrive much better in the rocky regions of the
ironstone, and if ever a grove establishes itself where the ground is
wet, it soon gets as clear of undergrowth as though all had been taken
away by the hand of man, and ere long it assumes quite a northern
aspect.

[Sidenote: VOLUNTEER HUNTSMEN.]

The landscape in Africa presents to a large extent examples of trees
which only cast off their foliage fitfully. In contrast to these, the
Terminalia annually throws off all its leaves as soon as the rains are
over, and throughout our winter months it is perfectly bare. It grows
to a height of about thirty or forty feet, and by its deeply-scored
black bark and the general character of its ramifications, it may be
said to be not unlike the glutinous alder of the north.

I passed the afternoon in a charming wood chasing the hartebeests
(_Antilope caama_) which were abundant everywhere over this attractive
hunting-ground. Their leather-coloured coats stood out in glaring
contrast to the dark tree-stems; but the lack of underwood left our
extensive encampment so thoroughly exposed, that the animals took
alarm betimes, and were difficult to reach. Accordingly after an
hour’s fatigue, I had to content myself (as would happen again and
again) with a number of guinea-fowl, which were a never-failing and
never-palling contribution to our _cuisine_. On all my hunting
excursions I invariably found myself accompanied by a regular troop of
people who made the chase a matter of great difficulty, but who
nevertheless considered their services indispensable. My own three
negroes carried the portfolios for the plants, and my rifles; but from
the bearers there was always a swarm of volunteers who came to act as
pointers, prompted to their extra exertions, partly from a desire to
get the lion’s share of what might fall, and partly from that
irrepressible love of hunting which seemed indigenous to their very
nature.

As a matter of botanical interest I observed the frequency with which
the wild _Phœnix_ occurs in the low district all around Ngoly. Most
probably this is the parent-stock of the date-palm; the time in which
its fruit is here ripe is the month of July.

Up betimes on the morning of our third day’s march, I took my place at
the front of our caravan, close behind the standard-bearer, in the
hope of getting near enough to secure a shot at some hartebeest that
might be taken by surprise. In the woods the animals could be seen in
numbers as great as on the previous evening; they skulked behind the
black stems of the trees, keeping a vigilant look-out, but as soon as
anyone attempted to leave the procession and approach them, off they
were with a bound, and scampering away in a zigzag career, regained
the wilderness.

For a full hour the way proceeded through the wood, and then we
entered a low-lying steppe which brought us to the running water of
the little river Teh or Tee. As we approached we saw a herd of
buffaloes betake themselves to flight, and, snorting and brandishing
their tails, dash into the stream; these brutes, however, are here as
elsewhere quite easily surprised by an adept. Flowing rather rapidly,
the Teh is between twenty and thirty feet in breadth, and passes along
wooded banks which gave me my first introduction to the flora of the
Niam-niam. The botanical treasures of this district, I may venture
perhaps to call the “bank or gallery flora,” in contradistinction to
that extensive class of vegetation which predominates over the wide
steppes around. Large _Scitamineæ_ contribute an essential feature,
and there is an Oncoba which bears upon its leafless wood blossoms
that are conspicuous for their numerous stamens. This Oncoba is here
found in its most northerly abode, but its growth is wide-spread as
far as Benguela.

Unfortunately there was little leisure for me to enjoy this attractive
_entrée_ to the flora of the land. We had to hurry on, and passed
quickly into a region where the tall unburnt grass made the route
indistinguishable to all but an expert, and where it was impossible to
see more than a few paces in advance.

[Sidenote: VALLEY OF THE MONGOLONGBOH.]

By perseverance we reached a bare and extensive rocky plain developing
itself into the depression of a valley along which the stream of the
Mongolongboh cuts its winding path. The rock is all composed of red
ironstone, very frequently of that coarse and large-grained quality
which is technically known as roe-stone. These flats of red rock are
common all through the districts south of the great alluvial territory
of the Dinka which is watered by the Gazelle and its various
tributaries. They are often, for leagues together, level as the
surface of a table, scarcely ever revealing a rift, and very rarely
worn away into hollows. When, however, any of these depressions are
found, they are always sure to be full of most interesting specimens
of a periodic vegetation.

Our next halting-place was elope by the water-side under the shade of
some noble trees, in which a merry troop of monkeys were frisking. As
we arrived before midday, I had an opportunity of taking a ramble in
the neighbourhood. For some miles round, the region was entirely
uninhabited, and the utmost desolation prevailed. None of the traces
of any previous occupation could be seen—none, I mean, of the
peculiar weeds which will survive where there has been any
cultivation; everywhere there was only bushwood and steppe, except
just in the spots where the stone flats were on the surface or where
the ground rose into hills, enclosing the valley along which the
Mongolongboh wound its course. There was a fine panorama of the vale
from the top of the hills, and many a group of antelopes enlivened the
general stillness of the scene. My attention was arrested by a plant
which was new to me and characteristic of the region; this was the
little _Protea_, which occasionally formed complete hedges, bearing a
resemblance to the class of vegetation which is found in the south of
Africa, but which is very rarely met with in any northern portion of
the continent.

Ahmed, the temporary leader of our caravan, had made arrangements to
start again immediately after noon, at the same time announcing that
we could not expect to be able to reach any place supplied with water
at which we could pass the next night. This statement was quite
contrary to the declaration of those who knew the way, and on the
following day was refuted. Ahmed, however, persisted in his opinion,
and, in his own Nubian fashion, said that he was ready to be
pronounced a liar by any one who could disprove the truth of what he
said. Wranglings of this sort went on day after day, and occasioned me
some disquietude and misgiving.

A gathering storm compelled us to put forth all our energies, by way
of precaution, to protect the baggage. The dark clouds rolled towards
us, and the encampment was all bustle and alarm. By good chance,
however, the storm passed on over our heads, and we had only a few
heavy drops of rain. Since the end of last November this was the first
day on which any rain at all had fallen. As often as we were
threatened with wet, and time did not permit us to erect our tent, I
made my baggage as secure as I could, by piling wood and layers of
stone upon it, and covering the whole with great sheets of waterproof
twill.

Long before sunrise on the 1st of February we had quitted our
encampment, hastening our movements through a fear, which was
altogether groundless, of there being a deficiency of water.
Encompassed by hills, we marched along rising ground, and by the time
that the morning light had dawned, we found ourselves at an elevation
of about 500 feet above the valley of the Mongolongboh, and with a
prospect open before us towards the south, much more extensive than we
had hitherto enjoyed. The ridges of hills ran from east to west, and
the peaks right and left of the path by which we were proceeding were
called by our leaders Mbala Ngeea. Looking to the south we could see a
thickly-wooded vale several miles across, and beyond this were two
terraces diverging towards the west, which were made conspicuous by
the contrast in their colour. The dark blue ridges which were more
remote in the S.S.W. were pointed out as the district of Nganye, and
the residence of the first Niam-niam chief whom we should have to
visit. Before us in the valley there was visible the low ground of the
Lehssy, which, in the lower part of its course, is called Doggoroo by
the Bongo; whilst only separated from the Lehssy by a range of little
hills, there was still beyond the broad and fertile valley watered by
the Upper Tondy, which here receives the name of the Ibba. Among the
Bongo its name is simply Bah, i.e. the river, just as the local
population of Baghirmi call the Shary, a further evidence of the
relationship which exists between the people.

[Sidenote: FOLIAGE OF KOBBO-TREES.]

We now descended from the heights and arrived at the Mah, of which the
flat bed caused a number of broad pools of water to obstruct our way.
This was the water that gave the lie to Ahmed’s statement. Along
undulating terraces we next reached a wood, which consisted for the
most part of wide stretches of kobbo-trees (_Humboldtia_), which gave
a light but welcome shadiness to our path. The height attained by
these _Cæsalpineæ_ is generally about forty feet. They are to be
admired for their fine feathery foliage, and for the size of the
seed-vessels which hang from the boughs. During the drought of the
winter season, when the herbage was short, or had altogether perished
through the burning of the steppes, they sent out young sprouts
graceful as the main stem itself, which were a charming ornament to
the woods. The colour of the tender leaves sported from a bright
moss-green to the richest purple, each leaflet being not less than two
feet long. The magnitude of the leaves gives a peculiar feature to the
woods, which flourish freely on the upper terraces of the district,
the steppes in the depressed vale around being marshy and quite
destitute of trees.

Making a fresh ascent, we passed upon our left one of those insulated
elevations of gneiss which are so frequent in these regions, and
which, as they lie scattered and weather-beaten over the plain, have
all the indication of being the remains of some upheaving of the hills
above the general level of the ferruginous swamp-ore around. The shape
which these islands of gneiss most generally assume is that of a
spherically-arched mound, here about 200 feet in height; and of this I
saw some thirty examples in different parts during the course of my
wanderings. A group of stately hartebeests was parading upon the
summit, and surveyed from the distance of half a league the progress
of our caravan as it wound its way along the bushy paths. By midday we
had reached the Lehssy, and camped upon a flat of gneiss which the
waters at their height had washed. At the present season of the year
the stream pursued its course beneath the soil, but it had left a
considerable number of water-pools, some of them a hundred paces long,
and from forty to fifty feet wide, which, overhung as they were by
shading bushwood, abounded in fish, especially barbel. By means of
small shot I was able to secure a good many of these; and in a country
like this where an agricultural life necessitates a residence remote
from the river-plains, and where fresh fish is with difficulty
preserved on account of the heat, such a catch is invaluable; it is
welcomed as a dainty, and makes a most desirable change in the
wearisome routine of the daily diet.

The splendid Afzelia-trees which overshadowed the Lehssy gave an
additional charm to this halting-place, which was abundantly supplied
with water that was as bright as it was refreshing. The level surface
of the gneiss answered the double purpose of couches on which to sleep
and tables on which to eat. Upon the shadowy banks one of the
_Anonaceæ_, the Hexalobus, grows extensively, exhibiting its long
tufted flowers, and breathing forth its pungent vanilla-like aroma;
the petals, in colour and appearance, resemble little fragments of
tape-worm, and are quite unlike any other known plant.

Continually was the repose of night again broken by the incessant
chattering or singing of the Nubians, who ever chose the night-time
for their hilarity, and in consequence were all day long as sleepy and
lazy as they could be. All at once, when everyone was asleep, they
would start up, and as a freak fire a _feu de joie_, startling the
nocturnal silence by the whistling of their balls. Even the negroes
did not sleep around their fires undisturbed. Under cover of the night
every one took care to look after his own individual needs, and to
enjoy the morsels that he had contrived to gather in the day-time; and
many a tit-bit carefully concealed from the eyes of others all the
day, was secretly consumed by the hungry fellows in the dead of night.

[Sidenote: AN EXHAUSTED BEARER.]

On the following morning I was one of the hindmost of the caravan, and
proceeded in the company of Ahmed, our guide, and a few stragglers. We
had passed two or three watercourses, overhung with copse wood and now
quite dry, when we came upon a Mittoo bearer, exhausted by his
journey, lying by the wayside. He was a poor withered, consumptive
creature, and seemed as if he were pretty near his last gasp. The
other bearers had taken his burden from him, and, conscious that he
could not carry it farther, had spoken a few cheering words and left
him to his fate. By a fair day’s walking it was just possible he might
regain his home, provided he could keep clear of the prowling lions on
his way; but lions, it is known, have a remarkable scent for a poor
lone and helpless man. Let a poor fellow be sick or wounded, and he
incurs a double danger. Meanwhile, the people who were with me were
all discussing the matter in their own way; they could not agree
whether the poor wretch were really ill, or whether he was making
pretence, and not a few of them declared that no sooner would he have
the chance than he would be off homewards as nimbly as a hare. Ahmed
at this point put in his word, and observed that a day’s journey
farther in advance, the man would never have ventured upon being left
behind by his company, for fear of finding his way to the caldrons of
the Niam-niam. This observation of his immediately turned the
conversation to the subject of the cannibalism of that people, of
which I was far from being convinced.

I mentioned that Piaggia had resided a whole year among the Niam-niam
without witnessing a single instance of the practice. Ahmed replied
that Piaggia had only visited the district of Tombo, where the people
were nothing like so bad as they were here in the east, and he
asserted that I should only have to wait for a few days before proof
strong enough would be opened to my eyes. He went so far as to
declare, nay, he swore hard and fast, that he knew a case in which
some bearers, who had died from fatigue on the way, had been buried,
and that in the interval of his going and returning, their graves had
been reopened. Naturally I objected to this statement, that only the
day before he had branded himself as a liar, and that consequently his
word deserved no confidence; he persisted, however, in his
affirmation, and went on to argue that it was not possible that it was
any beast that had disturbed the graves; stones had been removed to
get at the corpses that they wanted. “Yes,” he added, “and I have
myself seen them eat foul flesh,—vile, stinking, putrid flesh;” and
as he spoke he made grimaces so horrid, that they had every sign of
being the expression of a sincere abhorrence. Poor Ahmed! I can think
I see him still upon those rocks, expressing his emotion by the
gestures of his hands. I can even now hear the vehemence of his oaths.
Poor Ahmed I as though he were to be the very first of victims to his
own belief, within a few weeks he fell in a _mêlée_, his body could
not be found on the scene of conflict, and where should it by any
possibility have gone, except into the stomachs of the Niam-niam?

Farther onwards our progress was very much impeded by the high masses
of dry grass which had escaped destruction when the steppes were
burned. In the path, which is a mere narrow rift in the steppes, made
by those in front forcing themselves through, grass-stems abound so
hard and firm, that they are as unyielding as the stubble of a
sorghum-field, and make a most disagreeable obstruction in the way.
The chain of hills over which we had crossed the day before
constitutes the present boundary between the hunting-grounds of the
Bongo and the Niam-niam. Indications, however, are not wanting that
until a few years ago, the country quite up to the base of the hills
had been occupied by the Niam-niam; at present the first district of
this people is reached at the farther bank of the Ibba. As we
continued our march, we observed a number of half-burnt posts
belonging to their huts, and every here and there amidst the grass,
there were the remnants of the great wooden drums, which never fail in
any village of this people.

[Sidenote: A BATH IN THE IBBA.]

At noon we arrived at the Ibba, as I have said the Upper Tondy here is
named. About a hundred feet in breadth, but only three feet deep, it
offers no difficulty in the way of being forded. The water was running
from east to west at the rate of sixty feet a minute, and many blocks
of gneiss were lying in the river-bed, which was bounded by gradually
ascending banks. I found some deep water beneath a line of overhanging
trees, and thoroughly enjoyed a refreshing bath; it was my mishap,
however, to experience an inconvenience which occurred to me again
more than once in the course of my travels. Half-an-hour I had to wait
for my clothes, which had been carried off by the mistake of one of my
servants, and taken to the caravan. In my position it was impossible
to avoid the heat of the sun, and the skin of an European is too
sensitive to endure without mischief a temperature which at the very
least was 80° Fahr. in the shade, the ordinary heat of the district in
a locality well shaded, but quite open to the influence of the wind.

Upon the southern side of the river were the first cultivated lands of
the Niam-niam that we had yet seen, and which at that time were lying
fallow. Shortly afterwards the ground suddenly rose for some hundred
feet. The universal Sorghum is here the prevailing crop, but farther
on it is in a very large degree replaced by Eleusine.

We next found ourselves upon the territory of a tolerably rich
chieftain, named Nganye, who was on very friendly terms with Aboo
Sammat. Meanwhile, for the first mile or two after we left the river,
we observed that all the inhabitants vacated their abodes. The name of
the superintendent of the district was Peneeo. In all regions like
this, where the greater fear happened to be on the side of the
natives, the same behaviour was repeated, and very often was
accommodating to both parties. In these cases the people with their
wives and children, their dogs and poultry, their guitars, their
baskets, their pots and pans, and all their household articles, make
off to the thickest parts of the steppes, which have been spared from
the fire and reserved for elephant hunting; there they hide themselves
in an obscurity which only the eye of a bird could penetrate. It will
not rarely happen that they are betrayed simply by the cackling of
their fowls.

Some of Mohammed’s soldiers, who had been sent on in front, returned
and brought us tidings of welcome from Nganye, whose residence we
hoped to reach on the following day. We found ourselves, however,
already very comfortable, as Peneeo, the chief of the district, or
Behnky,[44] had likewise, as Nganye’s representative, paid us his
compliments; he had brought a supply of corn for the bearers, and a
lot of poultry as a present to myself. In his retinue were a number of
men, who, although they were not unlike the score of Niam-niam that I
had seen at Sabby, yet here in their own home had an appearance
singularly wild and warlike.

[Sidenote: POPUKKY-GRASS.]

With their black poodle crops of hair, and the eccentric tufts and
pigtails on their heads, they afforded a spectacle which to me was
infinitely novel and surprising. Amongst the hundreds of Bongo and
Mittoo, with whom the Dinka were associated as drovers, these
creatures stood out like beings of another world; here were genuine,
unmistakeable Niam-niam, neither circumcised nor crop-headed, such as
other travellers have seen either in Khartoom or in the Seribas; here
they were, presenting all the features of wildness which the most
vivid Oriental imagination could conceive; a people of a marked and
most distinct nationality, and _that_ in Africa and amongst Africans
is saying much.

Pursuing our route on the following day, we passed along a country
that was very undulated, and led through many deeply cut defiles which
ran down to the river. For three leagues we kept making a stiff ascent
over fallow land, until we arrived at the settlement of Nganye. In
consequence of the early rains and that which had fallen in the
previous night, the ground had become quite soft, and a multitude of
those plants which put forth their blossoms before their leaves had
sprouted up. Grass so strong and so thick I have never elsewhere seen,
as what I saw in this region. Subsequently I penetrated much farther
on, and saw the high grass of the southern districts in the height of
the rainy season, but on returning in the month of June, I could not
suppress my astonishment at the enormous growth which here the grass
attained. The dry stalks, in their height and thickness like reeds on
a river-bank, are intentionally protected by the natives from
destruction when the steppes are burned: and whenever there seems a
chance of driving up a herd of elephants, the steppe-burning is only
partial, and done in patches. The strongest of these permanent grasses
is a species of panicum which the Niam-niam call “popukky.” The haulm
of this attains a height of fifteen feet, and becomes almost as hard
as wood, and as thick as a man’s finger. Cut crosswise its section is
not circular, but a compressed oval, its colour being a bright golden
yellow. At its lower end it is not hollow like a reed, but quite
compact in substance, and if I wanted to make pipe-stems of it, I was
obliged first of all to bore right through its length. Of this popukky
the Niam-niam construct some very serviceable doors for their huts,
and some mats, which they lay upon the ground and use for beds.

Whenever masses of grass of this nature are set on fire, the elephants
have no possible escape from certain death. The destruction is carried
on by wholesale. Thousands of huntsmen and drivers are gathered
together from far and wide by means of signals sounded on the huge
wooden drums. Everyone who is capable of bearing arms at all is
converted into a huntsman, just as everyone becomes a soldier when the
national need demands. No resource for escape is left to the poor
brutes. Driven by the flames into masses, they huddle together young
and old, they cover their bodies with grass, on which they pump water
from their trunks as long as they can, but all in vain. They are
ultimately either suffocated by the clouds of smoke, or overpowered by
the heat, or are so miserably burnt that at last and ere long they
succumb to the cruel fate that has been designed for them by
ungrateful man. The _coup de grâce_ may now and then be given them by
the blow of some ready lance, but too often, as may be seen from the
tusks that are bought, the miserable beasts must have perished in the
agonies of a death by fire. A war of annihilation is this, in which
neither young nor old, neither the female nor the male, is spared, and
in its indiscriminate slaughter it compels us sorrowfully to ask and
answer the question “Cui bono?” No other reply seems possible but what
is given by the handles of our walking-sticks, our billiard balls, our
pianoforte keys, our combs and our fans, and other unimportant
articles of this kind. No wonder, therefore, if this noble creature,
whose services might be so invaluable to man, should even, perhaps
some time during our own generation, be permitted to rank in the
category of the things that _have been_, and to be as extinct as the
ure-ox, the sea-cow, or the dodo.

[Illustration: Niam-niam in full dress.]

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL AT A MBANGA.]

Fatiguing enough we found our progress through the towering grass. The
path was narrow, and it was very necessary to plant one’s foot firmly
upon the stalks to avoid stumbling on the way. At length towards noon
we arrived at the head-quarters of the chieftain, a residence which,
in the language of the country, is called his “mbanga.”

I found myself at once encircled by the natives, who came streaming in
to see for themselves the white man of whom already they had heard so
much. It was my own first opportunity of seeing the Niam-niam in the
reality of their natural life. As became a people with whom hunting is
a prominent feature in their pursuits, they were girded with skins.
High upon their extensively-dressed hair they wore straw-hats covered
with feathers and cowries, and fastened on by means of long bodkins of
iron or copper. Their chocolate-coloured skin was painted in stripes,
like those of the tiger, with the juice of the Blippo (_Gardenia
malleifera_).

[Illustration: Coiffure of the Niam-niam.]

[Sidenote: COURT OF A NIAM-NIAM POTENTATE.]

Whilst I was reposing beneath an awning that had been put up as a
shelter from the sun, the natives bestowed upon me such a prolonged
and decided stare that I had ample opportunity for transferring a few
of their portraits to my sketch-book.[45] In the early evening I paid
my respects to Nganye, the resident prince. His abode consisted of a
collection of huts, some larger than others, which he had assigned to
his body-guard, and to the wives and children of his closest
associates. The mbanga of a prince may be known at once by the
numerous shields that are hung upon the trees and posts in its
vicinity, and by the troop of picked men, fully equipped, who act as
sentinels, and are at hand night and day to perform any requisite
service. Military expeditions, surprises, conspiracies for murder, are
here the order of the day, but frequently other and better employments
will arise to engage them—as, for instance, when the discovery is
announced that a herd of elephants is in the neighbourhood. Then the
signals must be sounded, and everyone without delay must be summoned,
the occurrence being recognised as of national importance, for there
is the chance of securing many hundredweights of ivory, and perchance
ten times the weight of meat.

The shields are woven in pretty patterns of intermingled black and
white, and are lined with royal leopard-skins. They are fastened by
means of an iron knob on the inner side to the “trumbash” (an iron
missile with three large projections), and altogether form really a
striking sight.

Very modest in its pretensions was the court of this negro prince, and
it had little to distinguish it from the huts of the ordinary mortals
who had their homes around. The huts were circular, and had conical
roofs which were unusually high and pointed, and were probably
constructed to throw off the rain outside, as well as to allow for the
dispersion of the smoke which was caused by the fire below. Surrounded
by a dozen women, who with some household slaves superintended the
tillage of the royal domain, Nganye had every appearance of enjoying a
peaceful—nay, it may be said, an idyllic—existence.

I found him perfectly naked except for a little apron that he wore. He
was sitting on a Monbuttoo stool, quite unarmed, and with no insignia
whatever of his rank. There were, indeed, some twenty or thirty
natives who were armed and kept guard in the outer court, but apart
from this any pretension to state was entirely wanting. By means of my
two interpreters I contrived to keep up a long conversation which I
found interesting enough. I was made acquainted without reserve with
all the details of Nganye’s family, and with all the particulars of
his home administration. It was much that I came to him as a friend of
Aboo Sammat’s. Aboo Sammat was to him a friendly neighbour, who
brought to him as his chief an annual contribution of copper, beads,
and stuffs; and the prince in return stored up for Aboo Sammat’s
purchase all the ivory which the year’s exertions had secured. As
regarded my own native land he did not exhibit the remotest curiosity;
concerning the design and object of my journey no particle of interest
betrayed itself in anything that he said nor in any question that he
asked; and a similar remark may be made with respect to all the
chieftains with whom I happened to be brought in contact. As
everywhere else in Africa, a welcome is here given by reaching out the
right hand; the middle fingers are joined and jerked together until
they snap and crack again.

Whilst the cannibal magnate and myself were thus in solemn conference,
and were ever regarding one another with that reverence which befits
the representatives of noble communities, my retinue was being
entertained with roast buffalo meat served up in pretty carved dishes.
There was nothing palatable that could have been placed before me, and
although Nganye, as subsequently Wando and Munza, accepted food from
me, I never did from them. It is extremely unusual for Nubians and
natives to take any meals in common, not so much from any religious
scruple, but simply because it has never been the custom. In front of
me, however, was placed a great clay vessel with four necks full of
Niam-niam beer brewed from eleusine, which my Nubians enjoyed
thoroughly as being stronger than anything they can get in their own
country.

I presented Nganye with a great many necklaces of garnet-beads of the
kind which had been prepared for the East Indian market. My own
collection included no sorts except those which were quite novel in
this country, having been provided not at all for the purpose of
merchandise, but with the express object of making presents. Out of
compliment to me, Nganye always wore my gifts as long as we remained
in his locality, but, in the same way as other chieftains, he at other
times systematically abstained from adorning himself with any foreign
trinkets.

[Sidenote: EFFECT OF RAIN.]

On the night of the 3rd of February some rain again fell, but it was
not heavy enough to penetrate the grass coverings that we had
improvised for our baggage. This was the third occasion on which we
had now had rain, and although the fall had been very insignificant,
in fact scarcely a quarter of an inch, yet the effect was so great as
to be almost magical. Its influence alike upon the thirsty earth and
withered steppes was very wondrous, and the sprouting stalks of grass
bore ample witness to the invigoration that it brought.

A broad valley, alternately steppe and cultivated land, spread itself
out around the residence of Nganye, and through its midst there wound
a watercourse which now was dry. Over this we made our way; and
mounting the opposite acclivity, proceeded one league onwards to the
west, thus for the time reversing our previous progress. Black and
barren were the burnt steppes at this season, when the elephant-hunting
was all over, and they were unrelieved as yet by any vegetation.
Literally our feet trod upon the embers of the burnt grass, very much
to the detriment of my own white costume, and involving a large
consumption of my soap that had been so laboriously procured from oil
of sesame, burnt wood, and oyster-shells. Around the base of the
charred bushes there were little lines of green where the young
sprouting herbage broke through the earth, and now and then some
opening blossom would give an unexpected beauty to the scene. It
almost seemed as if these early-blooming children of Flora had been
waiting for a few drops of the rain that they might escape from the
womb with the remnant of the sap which it had yet to give. Upon the
general gloomy aspect of the landscape these rare scattered blooms of
course could make no impression; it was needful to seek for them, and
bend low to find them; they were modest as the violet which seems to
hide itself by the wayside, and yet has charm enough to detain the
passer-by.

A charming walk of two leagues and a half brought us to a subsidiary
holding of Nganye’s, named after its superintendent Gumba. The
villages of the district were abundant in corn, and afforded too
welcome a chance for the hungry bearers to resist making there their
halting-place; the prospect, moreover, of brimming beer-flasks had its
wonted attraction with the Nubians. The goal was full in view; a
little ridge of hills beckoned hospitably from afar, and immediately
beyond were the broad acres of cultivated land which belonged, to
Gumba.

A region was this which rarely failed to supply charming
halting-places, and we could take our noontide rest in shady yet
breezy positions beneath the spreading trees. The tamarind, however,
which hitherto had thrown over us its pleasant canopy during our way
along the lonely desert, now failed entirely, and I saw it again no
further to the south; so also Mungo Park’s butter-tree, which had been
so prominent a feature upon the red soil of the Bongo and the Dyoor,
now disappeared completely from the scene; but on the other hand there
were here displayed as much as in the northern latitudes the Parkia,
the Afzelia, the Vitex, the fig, and the Khaya, whilst with these
there were intermingled many new and striking forms of incomparable
beauty.

[Illustration: A NIAM-NIAM MINSTREL.]

[Sidenote: COLOCASIÆ.]

The country hereabout was tolerably secure, the Niam-niam being
desirous to secure Aboo Sammat’s friendship in order to ward off any
mischief that might arise from the dangerous neighbourhood of Sabby. I
considered it sufficiently safe to venture upon a little tour,
attended only by my two Niam-niam servants. Directing my steps to the
hill, I found that it was only like a hundred others, a pile of brown
roe-stone, and apart from the open panorama it afforded, it possessed
no interest at all. All along I gathered weeds and plants in
ever-fresh variety.

Making at length our halt at a hamlet, my two companions drew my
attention to a valuable production of their land. Underneath one of
the granaries, which was supported in the usual way upon posts, was a
great pile of firmly-pressed clay. On this an old woman was hammering
with the pestle belonging to her mortar, and having knocked a hole,
she drew out some tubers of a kind that I did not recognise. I
afterwards found that it was the Colocasia, which is cultivated very
freely throughout the Niam-niam country, and which when boiled makes a
very excellent vegetable. The thick covering of clay is put over them
not only to keep them moist in the dry season, but also to defend them
from the ravages of rats, worms, and white ants. Whenever any of the
tubers are required it is only needful to knock a hole through the
clay, which can be plastered up again with a few handfuls of fresh
mud. The same plan is also adopted in the rainy season to protect the
crops from damp and rot; thus clay, everywhere abundant, is an
universal antidote to the violence of nature.

As the darkness came on, our camp was enlivened by the appearance of
the grotesque figure of a singer, who came with a huge bunch of
feathers in his hat, and these, as he wagged his head to the time of
his music, became all entangled with the braids of his hair.
Altogether the head was like the head of Medusa. These “minne-singers”
among the Niam-niam are known as “nzangah.” They are as sparing of
their voices as a worn-out _prima donna_; except for those close by,
it is impossible to hear what they are singing. Their instrument is
the local guitar, the thin jingling of which accords perfectly well
with the nasal humming of the minstrel’s recitative. The occupation of
these nzangah, however, notwithstanding the general love of the people
for music, would not appear to be held in very high esteem, as the
same designation is applied to those unfortunate women, friendless and
fallen, who are never absent from any community. Quite contrary to the
practice of the neighbouring tribes, they have nothing to do with
boisterous music, and only use their drums and horns for the purpose
of signals. The minstrelsy of the Niam-niam may be said to have the
character of a lover’s whisper.

Starting again and proceeding to the south, after an agreeable walk of
about three hours, we arrived at the quarters of Bendo, a brother of
Nganye, who had set him in charge of one of his best and most populous
districts. The homesteads were all scattered over a wide and
well-cultivated area, which extended with a northerly aspect along the
declivity of an elevation of gneiss that rose to an altitude of about
200 feet. This hill was named Gumango; before we reached it we had to
cross a considerable stream called the Rye, which throughout the year
is always flowing. Uninfluenced hitherto by the rain, its breadth was
now about forty feet, and its depth was sufficient to allow us to
enjoy a pleasant bath at a spot where it ran beneath the shelter of
some thick _Psychotriæ_. Tall popukky grass covered the banks, amidst
which the splendid Nathalia, with its blossoms fine as those of a
horse-chestnut, rose in all its beauty. The whole region, on either
side the stream, was well cultivated, and look whichever way we would,
we saw groups of farmsteads, although villages, in our sense of the
term, did not exist.

Each family resides close to, if not actually upon, the land it
cultivates. The insecurity of property is everywhere so great, that
rather than relinquish their incessant watch over their crops, the
people submit to many inconveniences and live far away from
watercourses, put up with short supply of firewood, and brave the
ravages of the white ants. Hostility, in this land, does not simply
mean plunder and escape; the enemy is vengeful, and if he can carry
nothing off, will damage all he finds, and destroy the rising crops.

The Rye empties itself into the river Sway, as the Dyoor is termed by
the Niam-niam, although by the Bongo and Dyoor it is called the Geddy.
Close to the rising eminence of Gumango, the Rye upon its left shore
receives a considerable stream flowing from the marshy plains, along
the banks of which are scattered numerous farmsteads surrounded by
plantains. This was the first time I had seen the _Musa sapientium_ in
any quantities; just beyond the Nile district in the Monbuttoo country
it becomes the very staple of the people’s food. The cultivation of
the plantain seems to be a speciality of all the equatorial regions of
Africa, from Uganda on Lake Ukerewe right away to the western lands on
the Gaboon and Ogowai.

[Sidenote: GROVE OF ZAWA-TREES.]

Our encampment had been made to the north-east of Gumango in a great
grove of Zawa trees (_Lophira alata_). Of this tree very few detached
specimens are met with. It belongs to a class which flourishes beyond
the range of the woods of the river banks, and will grow on a
tolerably dry soil. Very noble is it in its growth, and so fine, that
Colonel Grant has pronounced it to be the fairest memorial of his
famous tour. Its bark is jet black, and it has a cylindrical crown of
narrow quivering leaves, which vary in length from a foot to a foot
and a half, whilst their breadth is rarely a couple of inches. Whilst
it is young the colour of the foliage is purple, which subsequently
changes to a deep sap-green. Every leaf is of a leathery texture,
deeply wrinkled, and its surface smooth as if it were varnished. The
blossoms repose in thick masses upon the extremities of the boughs; in
colour they resemble those of the tea-tree, and emit a fragrant odour
sweet as roses. It is one of the most serviceable productions of the
country, as its fruit, which is about as large as a hazel-nut, yields
a prolific supply of oil, of which the quality is singularly pure,
while it is neither rank in smell nor coarse in taste. For my own part
I much prefer the oil that is thus obtained to either that of the
oil-palm, or of the butter-tree.

All the morning I pursued my botanising on the river Rye, and all the
afternoon upon the sides and summits of Gumango. The arched surface of
the rising mound of gneiss, stretching out without a rift, was the
habitat of several very interesting ferns. Here I found the first
specimen of _Encephalartus_ which had ever been discovered in the
northern latitudes of Africa. The joy of this surprise was no
transient thing; but as often as the eye of the collector glances over
the treasures he has brought from afar, it surveys a permanent
memorial of his successful tour. The Ensete or wild Musa of Africa,
which the Niam-niam call the “Boggumboly” (or little plantain) grows
likewise in great abundance upon this interesting hill.

As surveyed from the summit of Gumango, the country, with the
variegated colours of its cultivated enclosures, exhibited a
thoroughly European aspect. Ploughed fields are nowhere to be seen,
but the labour is limited to clearing out the weeds, and loosening the
surface of the mould to receive the fine-grained eleusine, which no
doubt requires more care than sorghum, which latter is sown broadcast.

All the farmsteads at this time had been deserted by their occupants,
who had gone away and abandoned their well-stored granaries. Compared
to the number of residences the store of provisions was very great,
especially when the advanced season of the year is taken into account,
for April was the month in which the new seeds should be planted out.
One with another the huts had three granaries each, two of which were
full of eleusine in its original condition, the remaining one being
devoted to the same grain after it had been malted.

Everything testified to the fruitfulness of the soil. Sweet-potatoes,
yams, and colocasiæ were piled up in heaps, and our hungry Bongo and
Mittoo fell upon them as though they had entered a hostile country.
The receptacles for corn, being circular erections of clay, supported
on posts, and furnished with a covering which lifted up and down like
a lid, were soon emptied, and the immediate neighbourhood of our
quarters was like a scene of rapine and plunder.

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM HUTS.]

The arrangements of the Niam-niam huts are much the same throughout
the land. Two, or at most three, families reside close together.
Generally from eight to twelve huts are clustered round one common
open space, which is kept perfectly clean, and in the centre of which
is reared a post upon which the trophies of the chase are hung. Skulls
of the rarest kind, splendid horns of antelopes and buffaloes, are
attached to this standard, and, it must be added, skulls of men and
withered hands and feet! Close in the rear of the huts, upon the level
ground, were the magazines for corn; behind these would be seen a
circle of Rokko fig-trees, which are only found in cultivated spots,
and the bark of which is prized, far more than the handsomest of
skins, as a material to make into clothing. Further in the background
might be noticed a perfect enclosure of paradise figs; then in wider
circumference the plantations of manioc and maize; and, lastly, the
outlying fields of eleusine extending to the compound next beyond. I
sketched several of the huts, which are embellished externally with
black and white decorations. Several of the dwellings had roofs which
rose upwards in two points; long poles projected from the peaks alike
of huts and of granaries, and on these were strung rows of great
land-snails (_Achatina_).

After some time we found Bendo himself arrayed in an apron of red
flannel which had been given him by Mohammed. He looked very much
disconcerted at seeing his property laid under such heavy
contribution, but he was utterly helpless to arrest the havoc. The
promise was given that Mohammed, when he arrived, would compensate him
for all his loss by ample presents of copper rings and other gifts;
and, as matter of fact, we found Bendo, at the time of our return,
perfectly satisfied in his old quarters, and ready to show many proofs
of the friendly interest with which he regarded me.

Besides Bendo and Gumba, Nganye had four brothers,—Imma, Mango,
Nyongalia, and Mbeli,—who acted as his deputies, and had the charge
of various districts. Intimidated by his alliance with Aboo Sammat,
they were subservient to him with the obedience of vassals. There was,
however, a seventh brother, Mbagahli, known by his Arabic name of
Surroor, who was the direct subordinate of Aboo Sammat, and had been
established in command of the wide country vanquished by him, which
was bounded by the territories of Nganye, Wando, and Mbeeoh. Nganye
had only two sons recognised as legitimate, Imbolutiddoo and
Mattindoo, the former of which was destined to be the heir of his
dignity. Nganye’s father was Moonuba, one of the six sons of Yapahti,
who must not be confused with another prince of the same name whose
territories lay to the south of Dar Ferteet.

On the 6th of February our march was maintained for a distance of six
leagues until we arrived at the Sway. Whilst marching in single file
it was very difficult to hold any communication with those who were
before me or behind. Thus for a great part of the way I kept up no
conversation at all, and had to obtain all my information about the
country at the places where we halted, and where from the examination
of several people I could learn the truth; going always upon the
principle that in Africa what _two_ witnesses state has some degree of
probability, but when _three_ agree, there is a moral certainty. As we
proceeded, my attention was sufficiently occupied by observing the
plants on both sides of our road, and every now and then I counted our
steps in order to ascertain our rate of marching, the people,
meanwhile, giving me the credit for muttering my prayers.

[Sidenote: NEUTRALITY.]

For the first and last time during our whole journey, I had a sharp
contention with Aboo Sammat’s soldiers. Their conduct to the natives
excited my indignation more and more every day, and an incident now
occurred that thoroughly passed my powers of endurance. I could not
without remonstrance allow one of the Nubians to maltreat the bearer
that had been consigned to him by Bendo, and to strike him till his
face was covered with blood, merely because he had broken a common
calabash. But however much my sympathy with the negroes might make me
a favourite with them, it could only be exhibited at the cost of a
sacrifice of friendship with the Nubians, who were so indispensable
for my comfort and necessities. I got the reputation of being a
partisan and defender of the blacks, and more than once I was bitterly
reproached because, as it was said, I reckoned the word of one negro
of more account than that of ten Mussulmans. Under all similar
circumstances, I learnt as far as I could to keep myself neutral, and
thus happily I avoided much friction with either party. But it should
be mentioned that I was never a witness of that abandoned cruelty and
systematic inhumanity which the accounts of previous travellers in the
lands of the Upper Nile might lead us to expect. A traveller to be
just will take into consideration all the circumstances of the case
and all the ameliorating particulars which may be alleged; but in the
majority of these narratives, which make the hair almost stand on end,
the judgment that is passed is not unfrequently warped and
exaggerated. There is no justification for the pride with which we
civilised people boast of our humanity. We have only to reflect upon
the horrors that follow in the train of our wars, and if we could
enfranchise ourselves from prejudice we should be compelled to allow
that we are worse barbarians than all the Nubians—nay, that we are
murderers by deliberate intention, and destroyers of the happiness of
the homes of thousands.

As ill-luck would have it, on this same day a bullet came whistling by
close to my ear. Once before, during my stay at Fashoda, on the White
Nile, as the reader may recollect, I had been in peril of my life
through the excessive carelessness of the Nubian soldiers in handling
their arms; and not only was the danger renewed now, but a few days
later it was repeated for the third time. On this occasion a group had
camped out on the side of the road as I was defiling past in the
caravan. One of the men had his comrade’s gun in his hand, and was
apparently examining it, when, as I was within a few paces of him, it
went off. All that I heard was the cry of alarm on the part of the man
that he wished he had known the gun was loaded; my own people flocked
around me in consternation, but I passed on without turning my head,
as though I had heard nothing. After the events of the day my mode of
proceeding was designed to make an impression on the people, and
succeeded in winning the hearts of all, especially as I never passed a
single remark upon the whole transaction. The result was that everyone
looked upon me as protected by a good star, and that every attempt
upon my life would be utterly unavailing.

Our further progress led us, for two leagues from the residence of
Bendo, along cultivated lands which were covered with farmsteads. On
either hand, and apparently united with Gumango, stretched out ranges
of granite hills to the south and south-east. One hill in particular
lay to the left of our way, which was very long, but not higher than
Gumango. The three succeeding leagues were all down-hill across a
desert, and we had to pass some marshy courses, and several of what
for want of a better name may be called “meadow-waters,” which at this
season of the year were quite dry. These localities in Kanori, the
dialect of Bornoo, are called “nyalyam.” Barth mentions them as one of
the most characteristic features of Central Africa, between the Shary
and the Benwe.[46] The prevailing character of the landscape was that
of a steppe lowland, broken now and then by park-like woods.

[Sidenote: THE SWAY.]

The southern limit of Nganye’s territory is reached at the river Sway,
which flows through the desert land which bounds alike his territories
and Aboo Sammat’s. Just one league before we arrived at the river we
passed the hamlets of Marra, who was a “behnky” of Nganye’s. The Sway
is the upper Dyoor, and according to the uniform representations of
the Niam-niam, it is considered as the main stream. I came across its
source at the mountain of Baginze, where, although it is but a little
brook, it is called by the same name. The proofs that I can adduce for
the identity of the Dyoor and Sway are conclusive enough to establish
it for a certainty, and they appear worthy of some special notice
here, since they may serve to throw some light upon the question of
the independence of the Welle, as a system distinct from that of the
Nile basin.

1. There is no doubt that the length of the river’s course between the
two points where I crossed it, the one in Marra’s district and the
other in Bongo-land, near Manganya, amounts to 145 miles; but the
positions, which I accurately determined, of the south Bongo Seribas,
belonging to Ghattas and Kurshook Ali, and the assertion of these two
men that the Dyoor flows due north from a distance of at least 70
miles above the fording-place near Manganya, virtually reduce the
portion of the course that I did not explore to one-half.

2. At Marra, the Sway was already a stream with a volume of water
sufficient to have an important share in the formation of the Dyoor.

3. All the Niam-niam that were questioned by me in Kurkur and Dangah,
and who came from parts of their native land adjacent to these places,
plainly and uniformly called the Dyoor by the name of the Sway; and
without ever having been to Marra they were quite aware that the river
came from the parts intermediate between the lands of Nganye and
Wando.

4. Upon the road which the roving ivory companies of Mundo take over
what was formerly Tombo’s territory, the Sway is crossed near Fomboa,
at a place that corresponds to the curve which the river describes in
my map.

5. The most important river flowing towards the north and east that
must be crossed by expeditions proceeding southwards from Dem Bekeer
in Dar Ferteet, is the Nomatilla or Nomatina, which according to all
accounts is identical with the upper course of the Wow or Nyenahm, and
is at all events the largest tributary of the Dyoor. From Solongoh’s
residence, past which it flows, the Nubians have followed the course
of the Nomatilla right down into the lands of the Bongo and Dyoor.
There are no other important tributaries that the Dyoor can possibly
receive upon the left; the Sway must, therefore, necessarily be the
whole and entire upper course of the Dyoor.

To myself it was a great satisfaction thus to have placed beyond a
doubt the origin of at least one of the principal source streams of
the region of the upper Nile; and thus definitely to have assigned its
geographical position to Mount Baginze.

[Sidenote: HYDROGRAPHY OF THE SWAY.]

The Sway flows past Marra along a level steppe, which on account of
the rapid flow and deep channel of the river can only rarely, and that
at the time of the rainfall, be under water. At this time the banks
were perpendicular, rising to a height of some 18 or 20 feet, and
being cut through layers of alluvial soil very much reminded one of
the Nile “guefs.” The distance between bank and bank was 40 feet, but
the actual river was now about 25 feet wide. Its depth was about 4
feet, and it was flowing at the rate of 120 feet a minute. The volume
of water which passed was thus 200 cubic feet in a second, whilst the
Dyoor, before its union with the Wow, at the dry season in the end of
December, did not roll onward a volume of more than 1176 cubic feet.
In the middle of June again the Sway had a volume of 1650 cubic feet
to the second; whilst the Dyoor in the rainy season, at the point I
have just mentioned, exhibited a volume of 8800 to 14,800 cubic feet.

This apparent discrepancy between the proportions of water of the two
rivers at the opposite seasons of the year, is nevertheless quite in
accordance with physical laws, and is consequently adapted to the
purposes of demonstration. The drainage of the land outwards from its
springs takes place in definite channels. These channels are
represented by the great rivers which take their rise in the highest
districts. The rain, uniformly spread throughout the country, makes
its escape to its destination by the courses which are periodically
opened in the smaller streams which become tributary to the larger.
Compared, therefore, to what they are in the winter, the great rivers
are not during the rainy season proportionately increased to the same
extent as the smaller.

All the tributaries of the Dyoor (even to the great Wow, to which the
Dyoor owes at least one-third of its volume), as far as they are known
to me, have in winter the most trifling significance. Upon the right
are the Rye, the Lako, and the Lengbe; on the left the Hoo, the Yubbo,
and the Bikky. Any small addition which the little affluents might be
able to yield in the winter is all lost by infiltration and by
evaporation, so that their entire and united efficiency is so
unimportant as to be of no account whatever.

The sun had not risen on the 7th of February when we started on our
passage over the river. A bath, no doubt, after the heat and fatigue
of the previous day was very refreshing, but on this occasion it was
involuntary; and as we waded up to our necks in water I was conscious
of sacrificing the cosy warmth which a preparatory cup of tea had
given my stomach to the cause of science.

Through a charming bush forest, which, though destitute of large
trees, was most imposing in the luxuriance and size of its foliage,
our long column continued its march. These bush woods, remarkable for
the large dimensions of their leaves, predominate everywhere
throughout the countries of the Bongo and of the Niam-niam; they
contain little of the nature of the steppes, except in parts where
there is space left for the grass to spring up in abundance. Districts
destitute of trees could not anywhere be found except upon the rocky
flats or amidst the damp and marshy lowlands. The outspread of green
was so universal, that, camp where we would, we were like the eggs in
a bowl of salad. Let arable land lie but a couple of years in fallow,
and it will break out into a young but dense plantation; the roots of
the shrubs that have been cut down send up new shoots, and the whole
is soon again a mass of verdure. It should nevertheless be mentioned
that every tree that is either fine in itself or useful in its product
is always spared and allowed to stand. The charm of the landscape at
this early season of the year is very fascinating, and beyond a
question April and May are months full of delight in Africa.

Before noon we had reached the little river Hoo, which after flowing
as far as the eye could reach through continued steppes, at a spot a
few leagues further down unites itself to the Sway. At this period it
was a mere brook rather than a river, with a level sandy bed varying
from 35 to 20 feet in breadth; it had but a languid flow and seldom
was above 2 feet in depth. The banks are very low, and the rainfall
consequently soon makes it overflow its limits and swamp the adjacent
steppes as far as the very limits of the woods. The plants which
flourish on its borders, trees and shrubs alike, clearly reveal that
for months together they have been under water.

[Sidenote: BUFFALOES AND ELEPHANTS.]

We took an hour’s rest, which was spent in making a cup of tea and in
disposing of a kala-bok (_Antilope leucotis_) which I had shot upon
our way as a herd had crossed our path. A fine landscape was open
before us to the east, and upon the outspread plain were herds of
buffaloes of which the movements afforded us some entertainment. They
went to and fro in groups of several hundreds along the ground that
was furrowed by their tracks, and over land which in the dry season
alone was rugged and uneven. Whenever we crossed any extensive
river-plains we always fell in with herds of buffaloes; but we
observed that vestiges of elephants were comparatively very rare,
although the indications were not wanting that even quite recently
some had been upon the scene. But to these sagacious creatures a
trodden path is a thing to be eschewed, and they prefer to pursue
their long marches under the obscurity of night. If any one would
prosecute elephant-hunting to advantage, he must, as a matter of
course, renounce every other aim whatever.

From the flats where the Hoo lay low, we proceeded through an
undulating rocky bush-wood to an adjacent brook called the Atoborroo.
Sunk in a deep chasm 80 feet deep it was hardly perceptible from
above, and streamed on over-massed by the densest marsh foliage. The
vegetation of the woods offered me a fresh feast of plants that I had
never before seen, and I enjoyed an especial pleasure in the discovery
of thickets of a species of ginger-plant, which filled the valley all
around with the most delicious aromatic perfume, and grew quite down
to the edge of the water.

Damp and foggy was the following morning as our caravan moved on its
way. We had proceeded but a short distance when our advanced party
came to a standstill. This was a symptom that a brook or river of some
sort had obstructed further progress. These continual delays and
interruptions contributed somewhat to the difficulty of keeping a
systematic record of my wayfaring experiences. Through the tall grass
and high bushes I endeavoured to push my way to the head of the line,
but I could only succeed in arriving in time to see the first company
follow their banner over the Manzilly. Along a ravine deeply overhung
by the broad branching foliage of the fig-trees, the stream rushed on
to the north-east, a direction precisely the reverse of what was
followed by the Hoo, which ultimately received the waters of all the
minor streams which came from the western heights. At every time of
the year these water-courses are all very rapid, and generally
speaking they run over gravel beds in distinction from the marshy
mould of the more sluggish streams. In these cases the tedious process
of undressing is limited to merely taking off one’s socks and boots,
and this is a considerable saving of time.

Shortly after this we came to a small, albeit a very small piece of
primeval forest, containing giant fig-trees, commonly called
gum-trees, and indeed of a species not unlike the _Ficus elastica_. As
a forerunner of greater surprises still to come, there rose before my
view the first thicket of the calamus (the rotang or Spanish reed),
which deserves a foremost place in every description of the woods that
line the river-banks in the Niam-niam lands. It was a “gallery” or
avenue in miniature, such as I should find on a larger scale along the
side of nearly all the smaller streams to the south. This conception,
so necessary to an adequate topographical representation of the land,
will be discussed in a somewhat later page.

After a while we reached a second brook beside the farmsteads of
Kulenjo, which are the first settlements of the Niam-niam subject to
the immediate control of Aboo Sammat. The possessions of each separate
Niam-niam are parted from each other, just in the same way as the
territories of the different tribes, by desolate intervals void of any
residents whatever, nominally for the purpose of security, so that the
inhabitants may by placing out a watch easily guard against any sudden
attack. When there is mutual distrust, or in times of open war,
watches are of little service in signalling danger, for then every
Niam-niam, as a true hunter, passes his whole time in watching and
lying in wait.

[Sidenote: TROPICAL FOREST.]

During the entire day I occupied myself among the magnificent thickets
on the stream near Kulenjo, the vegetation, so different from what I
had seen in other parts of the Nile district, and of which I had had
only a foretaste on the Atazilly, being here revealed in its full
splendour. The flora embraces the majority of the plants of the
western coasts of tropical Africa that are known on the Gaboon, the
Niger, and the Gambia, and overstepping the watershed dividing the
Nile districts from the basin of the Tsad, opens to the traveller from
the north the unexpected glory of the wildernesses of Central Africa.
Though all was but a faint reflection of the rich luxuriance of the
primeval forests of Brazil, yet, in contrast to what had gone before,
it could not fail to be very charming. Throughout the twenty-six
degrees of latitude over which I travelled, the progress of
vegetation, according to the geographical zone and the meteorological
condition of the successive lands, was organised with wonderful
simplicity. For the first 800 miles stretched the dreary desert,
giving place to wide steppes, void of trees, but ever covered with
grass; next came the delightful region of the bush forests, where the
vegetation, divested of the obnoxious thorns of the desert, recalled
the soft foliage of his native land to the mind of the traveller, who
lastly entered upon what he might correctly call the true primeval
forest, which carried him back to the memories of his youth when he
yielded his fancy to the fascinations of ‘Robinson Crusoe’ or of ‘Paul
and Virginia.’ An identical change gradually supervening in the
character of vegetation is perceptible in a contrary direction in the
southern half of the continent; and travellers proceeding from the
Cape northwards to the Equator have rarely failed to draw attention to
the fact.

Nature everywhere proceeds upon the principle of levelling what is
opposite and balancing what is extreme: she would seem to abhor the
sharply-defined boundaries in which man delights so much, and in
accordance with this law she here presents to the eye of the inquirer
a transition that is very gradual, so that the limits of her districts
overlap one another like the fingers of folded hands. Even in lat. 7°
N. small isolated tracts of bank-forest, bearing, however, the
characteristic types of the “gallery” flora, are scattered like
enclaves among the bush-forests of the distant north. The forests at
Okale, at Yagla, and the locality called “Genana,” are examples which
I have already mentioned.

Nowhere did the guinea-fowl afford better sport than along the stream
at Kulenjo; about noon their grey plumage could be seen in the shade
of the foliage as they perched aloft in the trees at the edge of the
wood, where they could be brought down one after another with the
greatest ease. The keen vision of the Niam-niam did me good service in
spying out the birds from a distance, for the waving green around me
made me almost blind. The early morning likewise is not an
unfavourable time for getting at guinea-fowl; they begin their flight
very shortly after sunrise, but even then they are too much occupied
in securing their food to heed the approach of any tolerably cautious
sportsman.

[Sidenote: FEEDING THE BEARERS.]

The reader may perchance wonder at my frequent mention of these
guinea-fowl, and I would therefore be allowed to explain that the
traveller in Africa would be quite at a loss without them, as, with
rare exceptions, they form the main commodity of his daily _cuisine_.
In the course of five years I daresay I brought down as many as a
thousand of these birds, generally two at a time. By using the
lightest shot that can be obtained, and aiming high, failure is quite
exceptional, as the smallest grain that hits the long neck is sure to
bring down the game. With dogs, even when untrained, securing the
birds is a still more easy matter. The guinea-fowl cannot fly far at a
time, and therefore when they perceive the dogs in the long grass,
they seem to realise their inability to escape, and take refuge on the
nearest bough. Often while my dogs have surrounded a tree, I have
brought down from a distance of thirty or forty feet one guinea-fowl
after another, without a single bird having ventured to leave its
hiding-place.

In marching for three days across an open wilderness, the caravan had
to be provided by Kulenjo with their ordinary meals, and it was no
easy matter in a region so scantily populated to find the necessary
food for a thousand hungry mouths. The feeding took place in the
evening, and before sunrise in the morning. The whole party of bearers
were divided into groups, to which the food was distributed by the
different “nyare,” or local Bongo overseers, who generally accompany
the leaders of these longer expeditions. Handfuls of corn, measured
out just as though they were portions for camels or asses, and lumps
of bread composed of coarsely-ground impure Teleboon-corn (eleusine),
boiled to a pulp, formed the wretched allotment and composed the
substance of a meal such as we should hesitate at giving even to our
cattle. Frequently in the wilderness they are reduced to the necessity
of cooking and eating their corn unground. In comparison with this
vile and wretched provision, linseed-cake and bran would be accepted
by the Bongo and Mittoo bearers as choice delicacies. The natives
bring them their pulpy bread in baskets, and by counting the great
lumps of dough, which were packed in green leaves, it was possible,
with some approximation to truth, to estimate the number of families
appointed to take their share in providing the supplies.

Dainties more tempting and _recherché_ were brought in gourd-shells.
The natives who brought these alone formed a goodly company,
consisting chiefly of boys and children; the women, being shy, and
also jealously guarded by their husbands, remained behind at home.

I must not omit to mention the vegetables, which, when circumstances
permitted, were also brought for the bearers. These vegetables, served
with sauces, were arranged in hundreds of gourd-shells, pots, and
bowls, round the immense pile of the so-called bread. The sauces,
which were greatly relished by the Bongo, consisted of a compound of
animal and vegetable grease, water, soda, and aromatic herbs. The
chief ingredients in the finer sorts were grains of sesame and hyptis,
pounded to a pulp, whilst the inferior kinds were mainly composed of
the Zawa-oil of the _Lophira alata_ and oil of termites. Those with
the most piquant flavour are made of dried fish, which is pounded and
rolled into balls like cheese; in consequence of the heat of the
climate these very soon acquire a _haut goût_. Neither Bongo nor
Niam-niam will touch pimento, as they consider its very pungency to be
an evidence of its poisonous properties; consequently they seek a
substitute in stinking fermented matter.

Common salt is absolutely unknown in this part of Africa; the only
salt to be procured being extracted from the ashes of the wood of the
_Grewia_; consequently the greasy soups when boiled coagulate almost
into a kind of soap, and their flavour may be more easily imagined
than described. To make specially attractive sauces there is added the
flesh of elephants and buffaloes, which has been previously dried and
pounded. Any fat from meat is all but unknown: Nature appears to have
quite denied any supply to animals that are wild, and the Niam-niam
have no domestic animals like their neighbours; whilst the fat of dogs
and men, even if it were not loathsome to the Bongo, would be far too
rare and costly to be used for such a purpose. Such is the usual food
supplied to the native bearers, and according to their notion it is
probable that no more grateful diet could be prescribed.

[Sidenote: VEGETABLES.]

At some seasons other products of the soil, such as the larger kinds
of gourds, are added to the catalogue of supplies. Gourd-leaves, too,
which can be gathered throughout the year, together with various
herbs, which are found neither to be unwholesome nor to have the
flavour of pimento, are pounded and mixed with the soups. Vegetables
proper are rarely grown, but whatever weeds may spring up on all
cultivated soils are employed as a substitute, and play as important a
part in the economy of the food as many articles that are used on our
own tables; they serve partly as material to thicken the soups, and
partly as nourishment to satisfy hunger. As I proceeded further on my
journey, I found that manioc, sweet-potatoes, and green plantains took
the place of the corn-pap and Bongo sauces, whilst it should be
observed that in the more northerly regions cereals formed the basis
of the food.

On the twelfth morning of our march I rose with the welcome prospect
of that day reaching Aboo Sammat’s Seriba. Attending to my toilet, and
taking my time over my breakfast, I did not quit the camp at Kulenjo
until long after the last of the bearers had left. The day brought me
along a charming walk, and yielded a fine harvest of botanical
treasures; we crossed four streams, passed several isolated hamlets,
and finally entered a dense forest of lofty trees. This was no park
with its alternations of meadows and thickets, trees and groves: it
was a veritable forest in our northern sense, but infinitely more
lovely and varied, and not marked by the solemn monotony of our native
woods. In contrast to the surrounding country, the forest land
extended over an area of many miles to the north and south of the
Seriba, and nowhere did it show an exclusive predominance of any
single species. Trees there were most striking and stately, but the
most remarkable circumstance about them was the diversity they
displayed; a fact that may be comprehended, when it is stated that
amongst thirty adjacent trees were found representatives of no less
than twenty different classes.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [44] Behnky has the French pronunciation of “bainqui.”

     [45] The portraits here presented are those of two dandies,
     named Wennepai and Sehngba.

     [46] They correspond to what in the Mark of Brandenburg are
     called “Luche” (from the Slavonian, “Luga,” a pond), being
     meadow-like depressions from which the water passes by
     subterranean channels.




                              CHAPTER XI.

  Aboo Sammat’s territory. Jungle on the brooks. Discovery of wild
     pepper. Giant trees. Modesty of the Niam-niam women. Fresh
     danger from a bullet. A Bongo poisoned by manioc. Liberal
     treatment of bearers. Nduppo’s disagreement with Wando. Savage
     admiration of Europeans. The skin-trade. Wando’s braggings
     and threatenings. Formation of columns for war. Natives as
     soldiers. Difficulties of river-fording. Difference of level
     of soil on the watersheds. Mohammed’s prelude to drinking
     beer. Division of forces. Primeval forest on the Lindukoo.
     Rikkete’s jealousy. Varieties of genets. Mohammed’s _réveille_.
     Morning toilet of the Niam-niam. Waterfall on the Lindukoo.
     Magic roots. Watershed of the Nile district. Simple geological
     formation of Central Africa. The chimpanzee and pandanus found
     only beyond the watershed. Confusion in crossing the brook.
     Africa’s revenge on the white man. Venturesome interview of
     Mohammed with Wando. Value of ivory and copper. Definition of
     a “gallery-wood.” Duality of vegetation. Wando visits my tent.
     Wando’s _nonchalance_. A specimen of native cookery. Six Nubians
     murdered by Niam-niam. The leaf-eater and grass-man.


One of the native chieftains, as I have already mentioned, had
exhibited so much hostility, and had been so great an obstacle to
Mohammed Aboo Sammat’s ivory trade in Wando’s district, that Mohammed
had proceeded to violence and had wrested away his territory. This
chieftain was now dead, and Mohammed in his place had appointed a
native spearman of royal blood. Mohammed had a considerable number of
these spearmen, natives of the Niam-niam country, who were brought
into his Seribas, and having been initiated into the use of fire-arms,
formed one of the main supports of his authority. Backed by the
continual presence of some forty or fifty armed Nubians, Surroor (for
such was the name of the new vicegerent) held sway over a populous
area of 700 square miles. According to the joint estimate made by
Mohammed and Surroor, the number of men in the territory capable of
bearing arms was not less than 40,000. I believe, however, that half
this number would be nearer the mark; for when I test my impressions
by comparing them with the results of my careful investigations in
Bongo-land, I cannot but think that the entire population of the
Niam-niam country, with its wide tracts of wilderness utterly
uninhabited, hardly averages 65 to the square mile.

Since here amongst the bearers there is no institution of statute
labour, and the number of villages and huts could only be arrived at
by careful scrutiny of an entire district, the only means open to me
for estimating the amount of population was by taking what reckoning I
could of the people who assembled on either side of our route as we
passed along. These may be divided into three classes: first, those
who had come from mere curiosity; secondly, those who had been ordered
to settle in a district to contribute towards the general means of
subsistence; and, thirdly, the fighting-force that was displayed in
various places during time of war, and which most probably represented
the large majority of the men who were capable of bearing arms.

The strongholds in this district consist of one large Seriba and three
smaller palisaded enclosures. In these subsidiary settlements
discipline is maintained by native overseers with a small detachment
of armed men.

The personal relation of the Niam-niam towards their rulers was far
less servile than what I had observed among the Bongo and Mittoo. The
duties imposed were mainly the same. They were bound to assemble
promptly at any signal either for war or for hunting, to provide an
adequate support for whatever soldiers and bearers might be brought
into the country; to furnish wood and straw for building purposes, and
to perform various incidental labours. The Niam-niam, however, are not
employed as bearers upon the expeditions, and upon the whole are less
oppressed and are treated with more consideration than the Bongo. At
present they can hardly comprehend their state of subjection, and this
indefinite feeling is fostered at first by leniency on the part of the
oppressors, that they may smooth the way for severer measures in the
future.

The power of any native chiefs among such a people of unsettled habits
and unpliant temper as the Niam-niam—a people delighting in the
chase—is necessarily at present very limited; it cannot extend any
further at all than to accomplish the disposal of whatever men may be
capable of bearing arms either for the purpose of warfare or of
hunting. The official emoluments of these chiefs are derived partly
from an allowance made upon all the ivory that is secured, which is
always paid without being contested, and partly from their having a
right to half of all the elephant meat; but for their ordinary
subsistence they have to turn their attention to the cultivation of
the fields; and for this purpose they endeavour to increase their home
establishments by the acquisition of as many wives and women-slaves as
their resources will allow.

[Sidenote: ABOO SAMMAT’S SERIBA.]

I remained at this place from the 10th to the 26th of February. The
Seriba was in lat. 4° 50´ N., and was 87 miles south—almost due
south—of Sabby. It was situated in the angle formed by the confluence
of two streams, the Nabambisso and the Boddo, which were overhung by
lofty trees, and in some places were enclosed by dense thickets. Close
at hand was the “mbanga” of Surroor.

I spent the daytime in an assiduous investigation of the neighbouring
woods. My collection increased considerably, and the paper packets
prepared for the reception of my treasures were rapidly filled up. The
crowds of natives who came from far and near to gaze upon me afforded
me an acceptable opportunity of filling up some pages in my album. My
two Niam-niam interpreters (called in Arabic Gyabir and Amber) felt at
home upon their native soil, and accompanied me everywhere, making my
intercourse with the natives perfectly easy. I was able to roam about
at will in the adjacent jungles, as the environs were as safe as those
of Ghattas’ Seriba in the Dyoor; and, altogether, I was soon as
comfortable as I could desire in this remote land.

The scenery was lovely; the two streams never failed throughout the
year to be well supplied with water, and flowed through deep glades
where the lofty trees were wreathed and festooned with creepers in
clustered grace that would have been an ornament to any palm-house. In
the part where the supply of water was diverted to the residences the
woods had been considerably thinned. The wild date-palm (_Phœnix
spinosa_), which may be considered as the original of the species
cultivated throughout the desert region from Senegambia to the Indus,
grows here as a low shrub, and together with the calamus forms an
impenetrable hedge along the banks of the stream. The double barbs of
the calamus cling tenaciously to the skin and clothes, reminding one
of the prickly acacia to which the Boers, or Dutch colonists in South
Africa, have given the name of “wag-a-bitjen,” _i. e._ wait-a-bit.

A new characteristic of the flora appears here in the Amomum, which I
found in tall masses on the damp soil near the bed of the stream, and
even in the water itself. I saw five different species, with white,
yellow, and crimson flowers. The fruit of all the kinds is bright red,
and contains a soft pulp which has a flavour like citron, and which
envelopes the aromatic seeds known as grains of paradise. The water of
the streams runs clear as crystal, and the traveller may at any time
allay his thirst by a cooling draught. Here and there the sun’s rays
force their way through the interlacing creepers which hang in
festoons between stem and stem, and in the twilight the foliage gleams
almost like burnished metal. The Ashantee pepper (_Cubeba Clusii_)
clothes the trunks with a close network which is thickly covered with
bright red berries that grow in clusters as long as one’s finger.
After the fruit has been dried it makes a very good substitute for
black pepper, which it very much resembles in flavour. I was the first
to draw the attention of the Nubians to the plant, for, although they
had travelled much in the Niam-niam lands, they had no idea that these
berries had the properties of pepper, and seemed highly gratified at
the discovery. The Niam-niam take the pepper only as a medicine; for
seasoning their dishes they are accustomed to use the Malaghetta
pepper (_Habzelia_), of which we shall have to speak on a later page.
The Ashantee-pepper is one of the most common and yet at the same time
one of the most striking of the characteristics of the primeval
forests of the district; it forms the finest adornment of the giant
trees, and covers the venerable stems of these princes of the
vegetable kingdom with a vesture of royal purple.

[Sidenote: KOKKOROKOO.]

One amongst the most imposing forms of vegetation is found in a
Sterculia of the Cola tribe, called “kokkorokoo.” This tree grows to a
height of 80 or 90 feet; the stem gradually tapers upwards to a point,
whilst at the base it is suddenly expanded to so great a bulk that it
would require eight or ten men to encircle it; thence it rises in a
mass of narrow arms, corresponding to the direction of the roots,
shooting upwards for many feet, like a series of planks joined
together edge to edge. The leaves are heart-shaped and form a light
and airy foliage, but this commences at such a height above the ground
that I was for some time in doubt about the true form of the tree. At
length I discovered a shoot bursting from a root that enabled me to
realise a proper idea of the plant. It is no uncommon thing in these
primeval forests for the botanist thus to see the object of his desire
at a height so far above his head that he is unable to attain so much
as a single leaf.

It was upon the Boddo that I found the first specimens of
Anthocleista. The flora of the Niam-niam countries contains several
species of this genus of the Loganiaceæ, which is remarkable for the
immense size and small number of its leaves that grow all together at
the crown of a single stem running up without a branch. Let any one
imagine a tobacco plant magnified to ten times its natural size and
placed upon the top of a stem some twenty feet high, and he will then
have some idea of this plant with its circling labyrinth of leaves. In
any drawing of a landscape the Anthocleista defies every rule of
perspective. The equatorial zone alone can boast of plants so unique
in character as these, which may be considered as samples of the
unexplored splendour of the primeval forests of Brazil.

After every ramble I turned my steps to Surroor’s mbanga, and my
visits there were always enjoyable, because I ever found something
fresh that sensibly enlarged my knowledge of the country. There was
invariably a large assemblage of natives about the vicegerent’s court,
and among them a considerable number of women; for Surroor, besides
his thronging harem, kept a great many female slaves in attendance
upon himself and his wives. As a guest of Mohammed’s I was always
treated here with the utmost respect. The most elaborate benches and
stools were brought out for me to sit on, and Surroor’s store of these
exemplars of native art was inexhaustible. The choicest delicacies of
the country were outspread before me, but these were to me as
prohibited as shewbread. I always made a rule of eating alone, and
consequently felt constrained to leave the dainties to my interpreters
and Nubian servants.

Yes; I took my meals alone. A solitary European, as he proceeds
farther and farther from his home, may see his old associations shrink
to a minimum; but so much the more, with pertinacious conservatism,
will he cling to the surviving remnants of his own superiority.
Nothing can ever divest him of the thought as to how he may maintain
the prerogative, which he takes for granted, that he is a being of
some higher order. Many a misanthrope, in his disgust at the shady
side of our modern culture, may imagine that to a traveller, in his
intercourse with the children of Nature, the thousand necessities of
daily life must seem but trifles vain and empty, to be dispensed with
without a sigh. Such an one may fancy that the bonds which fasten him
to the world of civilisation are weak and all waiting to be rent
asunder as soon as Nature is left to assert her unfettered rights; but
from experience I can assure him that the truth is very different.
With the fear of degenerating ever before his eyes, the wanderer from
the realms of civilisation will surely fix his gaze almost with
devotion on the few objects of our Western culture that remain to him,
which (however trivial they are in themselves) become to him symbols
little less than sacred. Tables and chairs, knives and forks, bedding,
and even pocket-handkerchiefs, will assume an importance that could
never have been anticipated, and it is hardly too much to aver that
they will rise to a share in his affections.

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM WOMEN.]

The social position of the Niam-niam women differs materially from
what is found amongst other heathen negroes in Africa. The Bongo and
Mittoo women are on the same familiar terms with the foreigner as the
men, and the Monbuttoo ladies are as forward, inquisitive and prying
as can be imagined; but the women of the Niam-niam treat every
stranger with marked reserve. Whenever I met any women coming along a
narrow pathway in the woods or on the steppes, I noticed that they
always made a wide circuit to avoid me, and returned into the path
further on; and many a time I saw them waiting at a distance with
averted face, until I had passed by. This reserve may have originated
from one of two opposite reasons. It may on the one hand have sprung
from the more servile position of the Niam-niam women themselves; or,
on the other, it may have been necessitated by the jealous temperament
of their husbands. It is one of the fine traits in the Niam-niam that
they display an affection for their wives which is unparalleled among
natives of so low a grade, and of whom it might be expected that they
would have been brutalised by their hunting and warlike pursuits. A
husband will spare no sacrifice to redeem an imprisoned wife, and the
Nubians, being acquainted with this, turn it to profitable account in
the ivory trade. They are quite aware that whoever possesses a female
hostage can obtain almost any compensation from a Niam-niam.

[Illustration: A Niam-niam Girl.]

[Sidenote: SURROOR.]

My exceptional position made it easy for me to procure an order from
Surroor that some of his wives should sit for their portraits. This
was an unusually favourable opportunity, and the ladies with their
plaited tresses, allowed me to make many additions to my portfolio and
to my list of measurements. In this place I measured about fifty
different people, taking no less than forty measurements of each. This
of course was the work of time, but my trouble was all in vain, for
all my notes, with many others, were destroyed in the fire, of which
the record will have to be made, on the 2nd of December. Altogether I
had carefully registered the measurements of more than 200 individuals
belonging to various nations.

During the time that Surroor had acted in the capacity of Mohammed’s
spearman, he had learnt to speak Arabic fluently, and was therefore
able to give me considerable information on many points. I asked many
local questions, since the unravelling of the confused hydrographical
network in this part of the country was an object which I could never
permit to be absent from my thoughts. I was not long however, in
discovering that these Zandey (Niam-niam), although possessing such
uniformity in speech and customs, had no more knowledge of the remote
parts of their country than the majority of the other natives of
Central Africa. I may mention, as an instance of this, that no one in
this district knew so much as the name of Mofio, whose territory
indeed was 300 miles distant, but whose reputation, as one of the
chief Niam-niam princes, might have been presumed to be widespread.

Another occasion very shortly afterwards had the effect of impressing
the people about me with a very lofty notion of the good genius which
presided over my fortune, and protected me from injury. A traveller
who has learnt experience will understand the desirableness of turning
the progress of events to the advantage of his personal reputation. As
I was about to take my seat of honour at Surroor’s side on a Monbuttoo
bench, my life for the third time was imperilled by a bullet fired
from the neighbouring Seriba. The descending ball passed close to my
left, and within a few inches of my forehead; glancing off the
palm-sticks which were attached to my seat, it dashed through the roof
of an adjacent hut. However much I may have been alarmed, I succeeded
entirely in disguising my terror. The Nubians do not possess any
wad-hooks for extracting either cartridges or bullets; their guns
consequently have to be discharged in order to keep them clean and in
proper condition. It may therefore be imagined that in the vicinity of
a Nubian camp there is a perpetual whirring and whizzing in the air
from the incidental firing of these stray shots.

Hunting in this place, as far as we were concerned, was not to be
thought of, as the region was far too thickly populated, and the
Niam-niam themselves are such devoted huntsmen that they leave nothing
for the stranger beyond the few francolins and guinea-fowl which may
escape their snares.

During our sojourn, Mohammed Aboo Sammat, with his faithful black
body-guard of true Zandey, had arrived from the Mittoo country. The
entire united forces then prepared to advance to the south, Ghattas’s
agent and plenipotentiary not considering that a division could be
ventured upon until we had gained sufficient assurance of the peaceful
intentions of Wando, whose territory we should have to cross upon our
route. Any apprehensions of hostility, however, were soon allayed, and
for a time all went well.

By the 25th of February all the preparations for marching were
complete, and, reckoning all Aboo Sammat’s and Ghattas’s people, we
were a body of little short of 1000 strong. Our marching column was
not much less than four miles in length, so that it happened more than
once, after a short day’s march, that those in front were erecting
their huts with leaves and grass before those in the rear had lost
sight of the smoke of the encampment of the previous night.

Just before starting Mohammed had sent some of his dependents back to
Sabby, and I took the opportunity of remitting by them the botanical
collection which I had made. Amongst other plants were two specimens
of the remarkable Cycadea, which after all the vicissitudes of travel
arrived in Europe in a state of vitality.

Only a small portion of my reserve of cattle was now remaining, and
the maintenance of the men in the Seriba had quite exhausted the
stores; to Mohammed’s great annoyance, even the sorghum-seed, which
was to have been conveyed to Munza, king of the Monbuttoo, as a
curiosity, had been consumed as material of diet, and thus the heart
of Africa had been deprived of one advance in culture.

We proceeded, first of all, two leagues in a westerly direction, and
after crossing the Nabambisso and two smaller streams, we made our
necessary halt. It was on the western boundary of the cultivated
district subject to Aboo Sammat, and before we could venture to quit
it, an adequate relay of provisions had to be procured from the
neighbourhood.

[Sidenote: FEEDING THE BEARERS.]

The feeding of the bearers was an animated scene, enlivened as it was
by the concourse of some hundreds of the Niam-niam people. The
provision for the most part consisted of great lumps of pappy dough
piled upon broad leaves, and served with strong-smelling sauces which
were brought in pots, bowls, calabashes, and vessels of every variety.
Drawn up on one side, in groups arranged according to the order of
their arrival, stood the bearers, whilst the Niam-niam in throngs took
their position on the other, and many an eager glance was thrown upon
the preparations for the general repast. I took my sketch-book in my
hand, and wandering through the ranks preserved my observations of the
diversified tattooing which everywhere arrested the eye.

To judge from the representations which have been given us by Du
Chaillu, Griffon, and other travellers, I should say that in external
appearance the Niam-niam very much resemble the people of the Fan on
the Gaboon. The two races adopt a similar fashion of dressing their
hair; both alike have the reputation of being cannibals; and from all
accounts their domestic arrangements are not very different.

Almost immediately after starting on the following morning we crossed
the Nabambisso, and our course subsequently lay across a group of low
mounds of gneiss covered with an interesting vegetation. Here grew in
great abundance the _Selaginella rupestris_, clothing the bare rock
with a graceful carpet of verdure; and here, too, for the first time
since leaving the Red Sea, I was greeted with the sight of the
Abyssinian aloe with its fiery barb. This plant belongs to the flora
of the loftiest mountains; but although the elevation of the country
was scarcely more than 2500 feet, yet it was sufficiently high to
permit the plant to thrive; in Nubia, too, it flourishes at an
altitude hardly higher than that in which it is conspicuous here.
After surmounting the gneiss rocks we crossed the Nabambisso for the
second time, and marching onwards in a southerly direction we reached
a wide depression, called Yabongo, enclosed by dense bushes like the
“Luche” in the Mark of Brandenburg, or perhaps still more like a
meadow-pool in the sense of the “nyalnyam” of Bornoo. On the edge of
the water many wild _Phœnix_ of both sexes were flourishing with
greater magnificence than any I had yet seen, their stems running to
the height of some twenty feet. For a distance now there were no
watercourses above ground to be seen, and shortly afterwards we
entered upon another valley which was distinguished by the name of
Yabo. The interval between the two hollows was filled by woodlands,
graceful as parks, and adorned by many a large-leaved fig-tree bearing
a multitude of figs much larger than those we ever grow.

[Sidenote: CONSIDERATION FOR BEARERS.]

While we were here, one of the Bongo bearers died from the effects of
eating manioc before it had been prepared and divested of its
poisonous parts. For twenty-four hours before his death he had lain in
a state of coma, and a strong emetic had been entirely without effect.
In the Niam-niam countries the manioc roots are of the same uncertain
quality as those of South America, and the Bongo being unfamiliar with
the differences, often do themselves serious injury on their
expeditions by partaking of them indiscrimately.

Not long afterwards another of the Bongo people was carried off by a
lion from the side of a bivouac fire; and these two were the only
deaths that occurred in the course of the two months that Mohammed’s
caravan was on its outward way. Probably much was due to the salubrity
of the air, which contributed to make the men superior to the drawback
of unwholesome food, and to all the exertions, fatigues, and
deprivations to which they had to submit; but beyond a doubt the fact
spoke volumes for the considerate treatment that the bearers received
from Mohammed. He spared his people most studiously, and often rated
the soldiers very severely whenever they were impatient or harsh with
the bearers; he personally superintended the distribution of all the
corn, and in his anger I have heard him revile the troops, telling
them that they were good-for-nothing rascals who only knew how to go
to sleep, and how to bully the bearers.

Towards noon on the 27th of March we reached the Uzze, a small river
running almost parallel with the Sway, and of about the same
dimensions as the Hoo, only having a much slower current. The
river-bed was twenty-five feet wide, but at this period there was not
more than a two-foot depth of water. The stream flowed along an open
plain, unrelieved by trees, but animated by many herds of buffaloes,
which we did not now stay to chase, but which afforded us excellent
sport upon our way back. About two miles to the south of the Uzze we
crossed the Yubbo, the two rivers here being quite close together,
although they diverge again to a distance of several leagues towards
the west before they ultimately unite and join the Sway.

The Yubbo at this time was fifty feet wide, and like the Uzze was only
two feet deep; it meandered along a low steppe which was obviously
subjected to inundation, a fact that testified to the importance of
the river in the rainy season. Estimated merely with reference to the
length of its course, the Yubbo might compete with the Sway for the
honour of being chief among the original stream-sources which make up
the Dyoor, but the comparison of the volume of water which the
separate rivers contain demonstrates that it really performs a very
subsidiary part. Another argument that very pointedly tends to prove
that the Sway is really the main source rests upon the fact that the
natives distinguish it, at its earliest risings, in the defiles of the
Baginze, by the same name that the Dyoor itself bears among the
Niam-niam in what were formerly the states of Tombo. The development
of the Sway, from the aggregated confluence of a number of smaller
streams, is as characteristic an example of “river-sources” as the
records of geographical science can furnish.

After crossing the deep hollow of the bed of the Yubbo, we met some
messengers who had been despatched by Nduppo, Wando’s brother, to bid
us welcome. Nduppo was chief of a district subject to his brother,
with whom, however, he was by no means on good terms. From Nduppo
himself, of course, we had no hostilities to fear, as nothing could be
of more importance to him than to preserve his friendly relations with
Mohammed. As we arrived at his mbanga some hours before night, I had
time to make a short visit to a deep ravine at no great distance, that
was watered by a streamlet called the Nakofoh, which was almost hidden
by the dense groves upon its bank.

Our camp had meanwhile been improvised, a number of grass huts having
been speedily erected because of the threatening aspect of the sky;
towards evening for some days past there had been the appearance as if
a storm were rising, but rain had only fallen twice since the
beginning of the month, and even now the clouds were broken. On
reaching the encampment I found Nduppo himself in company with
Mohammed. I joined them, at once, being as anxious as anyone to get
what intelligence I could about Wando and his intentions. It
transpired that the feud between Nduppo and his brother had become so
violent in rancour that Nduppo avowed that he lived in constant terror
of being attacked and murdered by Wando’s soldiers, and this cruel
destiny which he foreboded did actually befall him a very few days
after our departure. For ourselves, the following day would decide
whether we were to have peace or war.

Our next move was to the quarters of Rikkete, another brother of
Wando’s, and who, holding the office of behnky, had remained faithful
in his allegiance, and was consequently in avowed hostility to Nduppo.
The three brothers were part of the numerous family of Bazimbey, whose
extensive dominions, a few years previously, had been divided into six
small principalities, a heritage which was a perpetual apple of
discord amongst his sons. Bazimbey was one of the six sons of Yapahti,
who still retain their rule over nearly all the eastern countries of
the Niam-niam.

[Sidenote: ADMIRING THE WHITE MAN.]

My personal appearance aroused the most vivid interest on the part of
Nduppo and his suite. Their curiosity seemed insatiable, and they
never wearied in their inquiries as to my origin. Theirs were the
first exclamations of a kind which more or less frequently continued
to be made throughout the rest of my journey. To their mind the
mystery was as to where I could have come from; my hair was the
greatest of enigmas to them; it gave me a supernatural look, and
accordingly they asked whether I had been dropped from the clouds or
was a visitor from the moon, and could not believe that anything like
me had been seen before.

And with regard to this appearance of mine, I may mention that amongst
these people of the far interior it hardly seemed to be the colour of
my skin that principally excited their astonishment, for even in the
remotest regions of Central Africa, tribes that have no conception of
an ocean are aware of the existence of white men; but it was
invariably my long straight hair that caused their chief surprise, my
own purpose in letting my hair grow to an unusual length being that I
might be identified at once amid all the countless shades of
complexion that were found amongst the Nubians. I enquired whether
they had not seen the traveller Piaggia, that white man who but a few
years ago had been staying in their parts with king Tombo; but they
replied that although they had heard about him, they had never seen
him. In my way, therefore, I was quite unique, and truly a
_desideratum_ in their ethnographical experience.

Nduppo communicated to us many particulars about his brothers, and
about the warfare that was carried on between them, and informed us
likewise of the death of Bazimbey’s brother Tombo, who had entertained
Piaggia with so much hospitality. Tombo’s kingdom, it appeared, had
likewise been cut up into a number of smaller states which still
retained all their national hostility to the intruders from Khartoom.
The residence at which Bazimbey had lived, during his sovereignty, was
pointed out to me, at a distance which, I should presume, was about 25
miles. It was explained to me that a messenger, if he were strong and
could walk well, could accomplish the journey in a day, but, it was
added that he must not halt on the way, and that he would have to get
on apace like a Niam-niam, and not to dawdle like a Bongo bearer
carrying his load.

[Sidenote: ABUNDANCE OF SKINS.]

Throughout the whole of the territory that was subject to Wando, the
clothing of all the people consisted of skins, as the fig-tree, of
which the bark is so generally used in the south, does not thrive here
at all well. For all those who require it, the bark has to be imported
from the country of the Monbuttoo, and is consequently an article of
luxury. Skins can ordinarily be obtained at a price which seemed to me
ridiculously small. For the purpose of getting a few trifling
additions which were necessary for my _cuisine_ I was in the habit of
breaking up some of my larger copper rings into little bits, and I was
very pleased to find how far these copper fragments would go in making
purchases of skins of various kinds. In this way I bought a fine otter
skin (probably _Lutra inunguis_, Cuv.) for about threepence, genet
skins for about a penny apiece, and those of the _Colobus quereza_ for
a very little more. Very plentiful and consequently equally cheap were
the skins of civets, _Herpestes fasciatus_, _Felis maniculata_, _F.
caracal_ and _F. serval_. The skins of the smaller kinds of antelopes,
too, were very frequently offered for sale, especially those of the
beautiful _Antilope scripta_ (the harness bush-bock of South Africa)
and of _A. grimmia_, _A. madoqua_, and the long-haired water-bock (_A.
difassa_). It is very strange how, notwithstanding this extraordinary
abundance and cheapness of skins, traffic in them, as an article of
commerce, is entirely unknown in Khartoom, where the dealers seem to
have no suspicion of the large demand there undoubtedly would be.
Leopard skins, it may be added, were comparatively rare, and were only
used by royal personages to line their shields, or according to their
own special prerogative, to encircle their heads. Nduppo wore a
serval-skin, of which the ends drooped in graceful folds over his neck
and shoulders, whilst great pins, headed with pieces cut from the tail
of the _Sciurus leucumbrinus_, held it firmly fastened to his
luxuriant hair.

Aboo Sammat was known amongst the Niam-niam by the name of “Mbahly” or
“the little one,” a designation given him long ago by the people, on
account of the youthful age at which he had entered their country.
Nduppo informed us that Wando had declared, with what was tantamount
to an oath, that Mbahly should not this time escape, but that he and
all his crew should be annihilated: he, moreover told us that the
threats had extended to myself. Wando, he said, avowed that he did not
want any presents, and that all the beads in the world were nothing to
him; if any offerings were sent he would trample them in the grass; if
any stuffs were given him he would rip them into shreds; plenty of
copper he had already, and for that matter, plenty of ivory too, but
he did not intend to part with any of it.

For a long time it perplexed me to discover the reason of Wando’s
animosity. Only two years previously he and Mohammed had been on the
most friendly terms. Mohammed had visited him at his home, and the two
had entered into the closest alliance, which had been sealed by
Mohammed marrying his daughter, who as I have already mentioned, was
now one of the first ladies in the harem of Boiko. But, meanwhile,
Mohammed had been in Khartoom, and during his absence he had entrusted
the charge of his expeditions to his brother, who had fallen out with
Wando. Mutual recriminations led to mutual plunder, and Wando was now
in a rage that could not easily be suppressed.

Nduppo led us to understand that in the course of our next march we
should receive definite tidings of Wando’s intentions. If an attack
were resolved upon, his whole force would be assembled and we should
be prevented from going on to Rikkete; but if, on the other hand, we
were permitted to reach Rikkete unmolested we might then be sure that
there would be a temporary peace. And this in reality we found to be
the case. As we were approaching Rikkete we were met by Wando’s envoys
bringing the accustomed conciliatory flasks of beer. Various
circumstances might have weighed with the chieftain to induce him to
postpone his outbreak. It is possible that he considered that while
Aboo Sammat’s and Ghattas’s companies were united and could muster 300
guns, the time was not arrived for an attack; he also reckoned, with
true African craftiness, that it would be more advantageous to himself
to fall upon us on our way back from the Monbuttoo. He imagined,
moreover, that all our valuables which he now so contemptuously
rejected would fall into his hands without the necessity of any ivory
traffic at all, and that our stores (as being an unnecessary burden to
be carried to the Monbuttoo and back) would be deposited in his charge
until our return; and in addition to all this, it is not unlikely that
he counted with some certainty upon receiving plenty of presents from
the liberal Kenoosian.

[Sidenote: PRECAUTIONS.]

In order to be ready in a moment for any emergency, our caravan for
the first time, on the 28th of February, set out on its journey with
its disposition arranged according to the rules of Nubian warfare. The
entire body being drawn out in columns, the whole of the armed force
was divided into three companies, each headed by its own banner. In
front of all marched the first division of the troops, followed by the
bearers with the linen goods, the bars of copper, and the store of
beads; in the middle of the train was the second division, which had
charge of the bulk of the ammunition, chests of cartridges and boxes
of powder and caps; then followed the women and female slaves, whilst
the third division brought up the rear. For the general security it
was ordered that no straggler should be permitted to lag behind or to
go farther back than the standard-bearer at the head of the third
division. From the nature of the path all were obliged to march in
single file, and thus our train, although as compact as possible,
swelled out to an enormous length. Independently of the main body, a
troop of native soldiers, composed of Bongo and Niam-niam slaves, that
had been armed and well trained by Aboo Sammat, was now detached to
reconnoitre the thickets in front and on either hand, and to make sure
that the advance was safe. As a general rule, these blacks made much
more effective soldiers than the Nubians, and upon them fell the
heaviest of all the work of war. Their employment of hunting, which is
a pursuit much too laborious for their oppressors, makes them far more
expert and practised shots, and besides this, they are heartier in
their work and fear neither wind nor weather.

Whilst all the Nubians who carry guns are dignified by the
high-sounding title of “Assaker” (soldiers), the natives who may be
enlisted are called in the common jargon of the Soudan Arabic, either
“Narakeek,” “Farookh” or “Bazingir.” The precise etymology of these
various designations I could never ascertain. There are, however, some
words which occur so frequently in the conversation of the Khartoomers
that they become indispensable for fully describing the details of
service in the countries of the Upper Nile. The “Narakeek,” for
instance, would appear to be the only men who are trusted with the
heavier guns, of which a considerable number, originally intended, no
doubt, for elephant-hunting, are now found in the companies of the
Khartoomers, and form what might be called their artillery. Mohammed
Aboo Sammat had twenty of these guns, of which I ascertained that the
majority were manufactured by Roos of Stuttgard. They are not loaded
either with conical shot or with explosive bullets, but merely with a
handful of heavy deer-shot; their action is very effective, and their
first discharge amongst a party of savages rarely fails to send them
scampering off at full speed.

It was in crossing the beds of the brooks and in getting through the
thickets that bounded them that the greatest precautions were
requisite. All our long experience had made us quite aware how easily
a caravan may be thrown out of marching order and put into the
greatest confusion by the mere irregularity of the soil, and under
such circumstances every attempt at defence must be unavailing:
bullets might do some service when deliberately aimed at an open foe,
but would be utterly useless when fired at random from amidst a
labyrinth of trees or in the obscurity of a thicket.

[Sidenote: CAMP-LIFE.]

Between three and four hours were occupied in reaching Rikkete’s
mbanga. Half-way on our road, after crossing three smaller streams, we
came to a larger one, which, like the others flowing to the south and
to the east, passed near the hamlets which lay contiguous to Nduppo’s
frontier. Here we halted for our morning meal. The bearers ransacked
acre after acre for the sweet-potatoes which were in cultivation in
this district, where also, for the first time in our descent from the
north, we found manioc plantations of any magnitude. Only in deference
to an express order that the poultry which was running about the
forsaken huts should be respected as the property of others, did the
people abstain from catching the hens and chickens that were within
their reach, but it was an act of self-denial, and they were compelled
to content themselves with plantains cooked in ashes. Altogether it
was a motley picture of African camp-life: the ravaged lands, the
chattels of the fugitives scattered all around, the variety of
platters, the corn-bins, the wooden mortars, the stools, the mats, and
the baskets, all tumbled about at the pleasure of the intruders,
conspired to make a spectacle of confusion so utter and so hopeless
that, the only relief was in resignation.

Beyond the stream our path turned directly to the south; hitherto its
direction, though winding, had been mainly west. The continual
fluctuations in the level of the land made me suspect that we were
really approaching that watershed of the Nile for which I had been
looking with such eager and impatient expectation. The ground, that
had been sloping down towards the west all the way to Nduppo’s mbanga,
we now found sloping down towards the east, so that the streams that
proceeded from this district to meet the Yubbo for a while flowed in a
direction exactly opposite to that of the stream they were about to
join. A comparatively important stream, the Lindukoo, at a little
distance received all these other streams into its channel and was the
last water connected with the system of the Nile that we had to cross.
Over steepish hills, along defiles of slippery clay and through clefts
and ravines which the rain-torrents had capriciously hollowed out, our
road led us onward to Rikkete. Contrary to our expectations we were
received amidst the mingled noise of drum and trumpet, whilst a deputy
from the chieftain stood in front of his huts to bid us welcome.

We encamped upon some ground that was still fallow, for the few
showers that had fallen were only the forerunners of the settled rain
which lasts from May till October, and had had little effect upon the
soil, so that the sowing of the crops had not yet commenced. Our camp
was close to some groups of huts that were inhabited by Rikkete’s
wives and retinue; and behind it, under the shadow of imposing banks,
flowed a brook called the Atazilly.

Mohammed entered into very amicable relations with Rikkete, and not
only obtained some valuable tusks from him by way of traffic, but
secured an ample supply of provisions for the immediate use of the
caravan. Towards evening some messengers arrived from Wando,
confirming his friendly intentions and bringing, as peaceful pledges,
an offering of flasks of eleusine-beer. At night we were in company
with Rikkete, and Riharn my cook, who had but few opportunities of
displaying that skill in the culinary art which he prided himself upon
learning in the large hotel at Cairo, prepared some farinaceous dish
in the European style with which I entertained the Niam-niam magnate.
The article that seemed to puzzle the people most was our sugar; they
could not comprehend how it should have all the appearance of stone
and yet melted in the mouth, tasting like the juice of their native
sugar-cane, which was cultivated among them, although not to any great
extent.

Before tasting the proffered beer, Mohammed insisted upon Wando’s
emissaries emptying one gourd-shell after another for their own
enjoyment, a proceeding which had the effect of considerably elevating
the spirits of the party. The Nubian soldiers, pleased at the pacific
turn that matters had taken, passed the night in chanting their
carols, accompanied by the strains of the tarabuka; and the Bongo and
Mittoo revelled and danced for many hours in their own fashion to the
sound of their kettle-drums and horns.

[Sidenote: DIVISION OF THE FORCE.]

There seemed now to remain no further obstacle in the way of the
separation of the two companies; and, in order to complete the
preliminary arrangements for the division, it was decided that we must
remain for a whole day with Rikkete, a determination which was hailed
by myself with much satisfaction. Ghattas’s corps was to be
accompanied by a detachment of one hundred of Aboo Sammat’s soldiers,
and to take its departure for what formerly had been Keefa’s
territories in the west and south-west, where they hoped to transact a
remunerative business, because, in consequence of the absconding of
the natives, the main company of Ghattas had been left destitute of
any bearers. After the reduction, an armed force of 175 was left for
our protection as we proceeded on the remainder of our way to the
Monbuttoo.

Early on the following morning I paid Rikkete a visit at his residence
in the village, and made him what I considered a handsome present of
beads of a pattern superior to what had ever before been seen in this
part of Africa. I, however, received no present in return, but on the
contrary had to pay for the simplest things with which I was supplied,
whether they were sweet-potatoes, colocasiæ, or poultry. The Niam-niam
are an acquisitive people, and never lose an opportunity to increase
their store of copper, attaching comparatively little importance to
any other wealth. Once when I was complaining that in spite of my
liberality I could not obtain the most trifling articles for cooking
without giving a full price for them, I was met by the true African
answer that if they took the trouble to bring me their commodities I
must expect to pay for them.

My visit to Rikkete over, I could not resist spending the day of our
halt in an excursion. Accordingly, having enlisted the services of
some natives as guides, I started off with all my people, who had to
carry my heterogeneous appliances, which consisted of guns,
portfolios, boxes large and small, cases, ropes, trowels, stock-shears
and hoes. Crossing the Atazilly, and wading by the side of the stream
through the swamps which were crowded with jungles of amomum as high
as myself, and adorned with the rosy blossoms of the _Melastomaceæ_, I
proceeded for three-quarters of a league across the steppe until I
reached the stream to which I have referred already, called the
Lindukoo or the Undukoo.

Here there opened to my view one of the most magnificent prospects
that forest scenery could afford; the gigantic measure of some of the
trees was altogether surprising, but yet, on account their various
heights, their foliage lay as it were in strata, and the denseness of
the ramification wove the branches into a chaos as picturesque as it
was inextricable. A merry world of apes was gambolling on the topmost
boughs; two of the larger species of monkeys (_Cercopithecus_) were
also represented, as well as members of the _Galago_ family, which are
half-blinded by the glare of daylight. The _Colobi_, too, with their
long silvery hair, were conspicuous as they flitted across the dark
gaps that were left in the lower branches, or as they scampered along
the more horizontal arms of the trees above. Numerous, however, as
they were, I had no chance of securing a single specimen, as my shot,
when aimed to an altitude of seventy or eighty feet, was spent in
vain. The guinea-fowl, as ever, afforded prolific sport, their large
grey bodies standing out distinctly against the fresh verdure; but we
lost a great many that were hit, in consequence of their falling into
the midst of impenetrable masses of shrubs. Accompanied as I was by
only a small number of armed men, I could not be otherwise than
sensible how completely, if they chose, I was in the power of the
natives. I was encouraged, however, to believe that the engagement
made was perfectly reliable, as, except under that conviction, consent
would never have been given for the armed forces to divide.

My Niam-niam guides rendered me the greatest service; not only did
they enter very heartily into my pursuits, climbing up the lofty trees
without hesitation to reach the produce of the topmost boughs, but
they made me acquainted with the native names of all the plants, and
brought me specimens for my close inspection of what otherwise I could
merely see at a distance, and in the confusion of promiscuous foliage.

Though the hollow gorge of the river sank for some eighty feet, there
were trees at the bottom whose crests were level with the land above.
The protruding roots amid the landslips, just as in our own mountain
hollows, served as steps; and all along, abundant as in Alpine clefts,
there sprung up many a variety of graceful ferns.

[Sidenote: RIKKETE’S WIVES.]

I proceeded north-west for a considerable distance up the stream, and
having laboriously crossed and recrossed the swampy bed of the valley,
I returned in the evening to my quarters with my portfolios enriched
beyond my most sanguine expectations. Before night, I repeated my
visit to Rikkete’s residence, and found his wives sitting on the open
area before the huts, and employed in their several domestic ways. My
intrusion appeared to give the ladies great uneasiness, and the
interpreters themselves put on a grave look of concern and were
ominously silent. I was just about to transfer the scene to my
sketch-book when Rikkete suddenly appeared. He reproached me
vigorously, insisted upon knowing what business I had amongst his
wives, and demanded how I presumed to go to his huts without his
knowledge or permission. These Niam-niam wives for their part were
very passive, and as quiet and reserved as though they had been
brought up amidst the refinements of a Turkish harem. Rikkete, too,
was soon appeased. He was a true son of the desert; but his general
demeanour, the reserve of his bearing, and the moderation of his tone,
were worthy of him as a man of royal blood who, conscious of his
superiority, could, when he pleased, converse with the most perfect
self-possession.

In my subsequent transactions with the natives, I was again offered a
great number of skins; this time skins of genets, which were
represented in several varieties. I discriminated them into three
sorts, according to the number of the stripes made by the spots that
ran along the body. The general colour appeared to change with the
creatures’ age. The ground colour varied from a light ash-grey to a
deep yellowish brown, while the spots ranged from the colour of coffee
to a perfect black. In consequence of these diversities zoologists
have very probably been misled, and have been all in error when they
have described the _Viverra genetta_ as being of several species.

In the glimmer of dawn we were aroused by the accustomed signals. Two
of the Bongo in Mohammed’s service had learnt at Khartoom how to blow
their trumpets and beat their drums for this important function, and
they sounded the Turkish _réveil_ admirably, giving it the full roll
and proper compass. In particular, Inglery the trumpeter was superb in
his execution, and the astonished woods could not too often re-echo
back his clanging notes. The Niam-niam were quite delighted with the
strain, and frequently could be detected humming the melody to
themselves. Wando and Munza alike were never weary of urging the
request that Aboo Sammat would either make them a present of his
trumpeter, or allow them to purchase him at any price he might elect
to name; but Inglery was the joy and pride of Mohammed, and in his way
was quite unique throughout the district of the Upper Nile as far as
the banner of Islam had been borne.

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM DIGNITY.]

Our caravan was accompanied by a large number of guides and natives
who were eager to show the way, as a stiff day’s march was before us,
and a passage over several difficult water-courses had to be
accomplished. The morning toilette of the Niam-niam guides was
singular enough. In order to protect themselves against the chilly
damp of the early dew as they marched along the narrow pathways of the
steppes, they covered the entire front of their body with some large
skins, which made them look as if they wore coopers’ aprons. For this
purpose there is no skin that looks more picturesque than that of the
bush-bock, with its rows of white spots and stripes upon a yellow
ochre ground. The bearing of the Niam-niam is always chivalrous as
becomes a people devoted to war and to the chase, exhibiting a very
strong contrast to the unpolished nonchalance of the Bongo, the
Mittoo, and even of the finicking Arabians. The Niam-niam might be
introduced straight upon the stage, and would be faultless in the
symmetry with which they would go through their poses.

Our way took a turn beyond the Atazilly across the same steppe over
which we had passed yesterday. After an hour we arrived again at the
Lindukoo, which here forms a considerable cataract of some thirty feet
deep, falling over the worn and polished gneiss. A thick bank-wood
shaded the rocks, which were charmingly adorned with the rarest ferns,
and a regular jungle of tangled foliage canopied the depth beneath
which the rosy blooming ginger-bushes grew as tall as a man and
scented the air with their fine aroma. Just for half-an-hour we halted
upon the high and dry levels that we found, and regaled ourselves with
refreshment from our store of provisions.

An early rest like this was quite common with us, for in the confusion
of our starting at the dawn of day there was seldom any leisure at all
to think of breakfast. Our leader, neither proud nor upstart, but like
all Nubians, whose finest quality is their sense of equity and
brotherhood, munched away amidst a circle of his more intimate
associates, to which my Khartoom attendants were admitted, at some
cold fowl seasoned with pimento, which was the choicest morsel that
the country could supply. With the flowery yams, the sweet-potatoes,
and the colocasiæ, which appeared such an invaluable boon to the
country, the Nubians could do nothing, so unaccustomed were they in
their native place to vegetables of any sort: what they missed most
was plenty of their flat cake of kissere; quite voluntarily they
renounced all meat. They carried with them a supply of the capsules of
the _Hibiscus esculentus_, dried before they were ripe, and by the aid
of the indispensable red pepper and some fat or oily substance, they
manufactured a slimy sauce in which they soused their kissere. They
were epicures enough to carry with them in a horn their own “duggoo,”
which is a kind of pot-pourri composed of every condiment they can
procure, being a combination of salt, pimento, fœnum græcum,
basilicum, coriander, mustard, dill, and a variety of other
ingredients of the kind.

But now for a time the days of kissere and sorghum-pap were over. Now
for awhile they had to put up with eleusine, that tiny, scaly, black
and bitter grain of which Speke declares that it is sown, because the
spades, which do such an amount of mischief to other seeds, leave this
uninjured—the same _Eleusine coracana_ (called teleboon in Arabic and
raggi in the West Indies) which on account of its extreme bitterness
was condemned by Baker as being putrid and unfit to eat. Leaving it
for the people who seemed to enjoy it well enough, he made the remark
that “the lion dies of hunger where the ass grows fat.”

There was a general belief in magic. One day, my servant, Mohammed
Ameen, would get it into his head that I had found a plant from which
I could extract gold; on the next day it would be some wonderful skull
that I had found, and from which I knew how to extract the subtlest
poison; the day after and I had the luck to kill an antelope because I
was in possession of some marvellous root. With plain matter-of-fact
these good people cannot get on at all: that every herb must have some
medicinal properties and use would appear never to have entered the
minds of any but Europeans. “Knowest thou the herb that gives
perpetual youth?” is the question that the Oriental asks; and
mysterious secrets are yet to be unfolded to the African.

[Sidenote: FATALISM.]

No one clings more than a Niam-niam to the superstition that the
possession of certain charmed roots contributes to the success of the
chase, so that the best shots, when they have killed an unusual number
either of antelopes or buffaloes are usually credited with having such
roots in their keeping. The fatalism, which is exhibited just as
decidedly by Mohammedans as by heathens, is such that it does not
attach the least importance to the skill with which an arrow or bullet
is aimed. This is a reason why the Khartoomers are never practised in
the art of shooting; they do not doubt but that whatever is designed
for the unbeliever is sure to hit its mark.

The direction which the river Lindukoo was taking appeared to me to be
exactly the reverse of that in which flowed the current of the Yubbo;
and, in spite of the positiveness on the part of the guides, all their
statements left my mind unconvinced, and in a state of considerable
perplexity. But two months later when I had again to cross the river
some distance further to the East, my presentiment was thoroughly
confirmed. The formation of the land just here is very uneven and
irregular; quite in contrast to what it was observed to be both
previously and subsequently upon our progress. With the Lindukoo,
then, I was bidding farewell to the district of the Nile. Many as
there had been before who had undertaken to explore the mighty river
to its fountain-head, here was I, the first European coming from the
north who yet had ever traversed.


THE WATERSHED OF THE NILE.

Upon this memorable day in my life, I confess I had no real knowledge
of the significance of the soil upon which my steps were tarrying, for
as yet I could know nothing of the configuration of the country before
us. The revelation of the truth about this watershed only became
apparent to me after I had gathered and weighed the testimony of the
Niam-niam, which sufficiently demonstrated that the next river, the
Mbrwole, belongs to the system of the Welle. This river _now_ was an
enigma to me, and to unravel the hydrographical perplexities which
surrounded it, continued throughout my journey to puzzle my brain;
certainly I was satisfied it could never be brought into unison with
any of the tributaries of the Sway. A little patience, and the problem
was solved.

With the exception of the high ridge on the north of the River Lehssy
which the Niam-niam call Mbala Ngeea, there was nowhere, along the
entire line from the Gazelle to the Welle, any wide difference
observable in the conformation of the land. But southwards from the
Lindukoo, it was all uphill and downhill, and through defiles,
hill-caps rising and falling on either side, high enough to be
prominent over the undulations that were around them. These
undulations were everywhere of that red hue which rendered it all but
certain that they were only elevations of that crust of recent
swamp-ore which is so widely diffused in Central Africa. The higher
eminences that rose above were of a far earlier formation, being
projections of gneiss, the weather-worn remnants of some primeval
mountain ranges, gnawed by the tooth of time, and crumbled down from
jagged peaks to smooth and rounded caps. Subsequently, on my return at
the end of April, I pushed my way beyond these elevations of the
gneiss, and penetrated farther east, into the narrower limits of the
watershed.

[Sidenote: MUTABILITY OF RIVER CHANNELS.]

This uniformity in geological formation of a district so immense, as
far as it is known, is certainly very remarkable. The source of the
Dyoor is the only exception, and presents some variety in
stratification. Everything points to the fact that since the era of
the formation of the swamp-ore (spreading as it does from the banks of
the Dyoor to the Coanza, and from Mozambique to the Niger) there has
been no alteration in the surface condition of the land except what
has occurred by reason of the water-courses finding new directions for
themselves along the loose and yielding deposit. And even when the
elevations are taken into account which have caused whole chains of
hills to arise, such for instance as those which encircle the basin of
the Tondy, still I am inclined to believe that there too the existence
of the valleys and depressions is to be explained by no other
hypothesis than the perpetual mutability of the channels by which the
streams have forced their way.

Followed in our course from the Lindukoo by a side stream which
discharged itself by a waterfall, we arrived at the regular watershed,
which, judging by my aneroid, which had not varied for four years, I
should estimate at 3000 feet high. Passing onwards we came to a brook
called the Naporruporroo which rippled through a gorge some seventy
feet deep. The stem of a great tree had been thrown across the chasm,
and by means of this we were enabled to pass over without being under
the necessity of making a descent. As we proceeded, the peaks of the
trees which grew beneath were some way below the level of our feet.
After a while, we had first to cross another, and then another of
these streams which at no great distance united themselves in one
common channel.

The stream I have just mentioned was at the bottom of a valley some
eighty feet deep, and as its banks were almost perpendicular the
bearers had to make the most strenuous exertions to ascend. They had
to help each other up, and the baggage therefore had to be passed on
from one to another of the men, and then to be laid down awhile that
they might have their hands at liberty to help them as they climbed.
To accomplish this difficult passage at all with four-footed beasts of
burden it would have been requisite to make a very long and arduous
_détour_. The detention, however, to which the difficulty subjected
the caravan was not in any way a loss to me; it gave me time to stay
and gather up what I would of the botanical treasures of the place,
which in luxuriance seemed to me to surpass all that as yet I had
seen. The valley was so deep that no ray of sunshine by any
possibility could enter it. The pathway was barely a foot wide and
wound itself through a mass of waving foliage. There was a kind of
Brillantaisia with large violet blossoms that I found close by the
way; and I stayed to arrange in my portfolio, for future
investigation, some of its leaves, waiting while our lengthy
procession passed along. Squeezed up in a labyrinth of boughs and
creepers, and wreathed about with leaves, I sat as though I were in a
nest. These opportunities were several times repeated, in which I
found I could get half an hour at my disposal, and could botanize
without disturbance; then as soon as the caravan had defiled past I
took advantage of the first open ground to regain my position near the
front.

So numerous were the hindrances and so great the obstacles which arose
from the ground conformation of the watershed that our progress was
necessarily slow.

About four miles from Lindukoo we reached the Mbrwole, which the
Nubians without further description simply call “Wando’s River.” It
was here bordered by wood, and had a breadth of about eighty feet,
though its depth did not exceed two feet, the flow of the stream being
what might be described as torpid. Aboo Sammat’s people gave us all
the particulars of the year’s luck in hunting, and dwelt much upon the
circumstance of a chimpanzee having been killed, an event which was
evidently very unusual. The woods that composed the “galleries” were
dense and manifestly adapted to be a resort of these creatures. The
fact was of considerable interest as relating to the watershed,
because in none of the more northerly woods had I ever been able to
acquire any evidence at all that the chimpanzee had been known to
exist. It was remarkable that the first trace I found of this race of
animals was upon my reaching the first river that was unattached to
the system of the Nile. It may be said of the district of Wando, where
bank vegetation is most luxuriant and where the drainage is like a
complication of veins squeezed from an overcharged sponge, that it is
the region which, more than any other, is conspicuous for the
abundance of the chimpanzee, which here represents the breed of the
West African _Troglodytes niger_.

[Sidenote: ANONACEÆ.]

Countless in diversity as were the trees and shrubs, the _Anonaceæ_,
by mere reason of their numbers, must take a very prominent place in
the catalogue. A family of plants is this of which, so long as the
flora of tropical Africa was unexplored, it was presumed that America
was the chief, if not the exclusive habitat. But since our knowledge
has been enlarged, and especially since my own investigations in the
Niam-niam lands, it has become clear almost beyond a question that
Africa is at least as prodigal in the Anonaceæ that it yields as all
the tropical districts of America.

Again for two hours we made a pause. The Nubians enjoyed a bright cool
bath, the long column of bearers still toiling onwards with their
loads. The opportunity to myself was as acceptable as ever, and I
continued to secure a new abundance of botanical treasure. By way of
variety, intelligence was brought us that a gun had gone off through
negligence, and that the ball had rent a hole in the apron of one of
the soldiers. Of course there was a great outcry and no end of
gesticulating. The culprit took with the most passive resignation the
lashing that was assigned him, and then all was forgotten, and
something fresh had to be awaited to stir up a new excitement. The
people are fatalists of the purest water, and no amount of experience
can make them prudent.

Farther on, a march through a flat and open steppe led us after a few
miles to a deep glen so thick with wood that it occupied us at least
half an hour in crossing. Its bottom was a wide marshy streak over
which there was no movement of the water, that seemed to be entirely
stagnant. A new type of vegetation revealed itself, one never observed
in the Nile lands by any previous traveller. This consisted of the
thickets of Pandanus, which were to my mind an evidence of our having
entered upon a new river-district altogether, the plant being an
undoubted representative of the flora of the western coast.

And now we had to make our first experience of the various artifices
by which the transit over these marshes has to be accomplished; not
only would it be impossible for a carriage of any description or for
any one on horseback to go over, but even when the baggage was
conveyed by hand there was the serious risk of anyone seeing all that
he most cared for, his clothes and his journals, tumbling from the
bearers’ heads and sinking in the filthy slime. Mouldering trunks of
trees there might be, but to place the foot upon these was to find
them roll like a wave in the waters; others would be too smooth and
slippery to allow a step to be trusted to their treacherous support;
and then the deep continual holes would either be filled by water or
covered with a floating vegetation which betrayed the unwary footsteps
into trouble, so that there was no alternative for the bearers but to
jump from mound to mound and keep their balance as best they might: to
no purpose would they try to grasp at some support; the prickly leaves
of the Pandanus, notched and jagged on the edges as a saw, made them
glad to withdraw their tortured hand.

[Sidenote: CROSSING THE MARSHES.]

For miles far away the deserts re-echoed back the shouts of the
bearers as they splashed through the waters; and the air around
reverberated with the outcry, with the mingled laughing and swearing
of the Nubians, and with the fluster of the women slaves as they
jostled each other in carrying their dishes, gourd-flasks, and
calabashes, through the prickly hedges. Every now and then would arise
a general shriek, half in merriment, half in fright, from a hundred
lungs, betokening that some unlucky slave had plumped down into a
muddy hole, and that all her cooking utensils had come tumbling after.
I could not help being on continual tenterhooks as to the fate which
would befal my own baggage, particularly my herbarium, which although
it was packed up most cautiously in india-rubber, yet required to be
handled very gently. My Bongo bearers, however, were picked men, and
did their work well. They waded on and never once had any
misadventure, so that it resulted that everything, without exception,
that I had gathered in these remote districts of Central Africa, was
spared alike from loss or damage.

Dressing and undressing on these occasions was tiresome enough, but it
was not the whole of the inconvenience. When the task of getting
across had been accomplished, there still remained the business of
purification; and no easy matter was it to get free from the black mud
and slime that adhered tenaciously to the skin. It almost seemed as if
Africa herself had been roused to spitefulness, and was exhibiting her
wrath against the intruder who presumed to meddle with her secrets.
With a malicious glee she appeared to be exulting that she was able to
render the white man, at least for the time, as black as any of her
own children; nor was she content till she had sent a plague of
mud-leeches to add to his discomfort. Naked and shivering she let him
stand even in the mist and rain of a chilly dawn; and no help for him
till some friendly hand should guide him to a pool where the water
still was undefiled, and he could get a wash. And then what a
scraping! How ruefully too would his eye fall upon the ugly
blood-suckers which clung about his legs! To make these relax their
hold, recourse must be had to the powder-flask; and, after all, the
clothes would be saturated with the blood that had been shed in vain.
As for the things that had been splashed and wetted in the turmoil of
the passage, they were laid out either upon a cluster of trampled
fern-leaves or upon any little spot that seemed to give them a chance
of drying.

The sun was already declining, and we had still three of these bogs to
pass over, each with its running stream that would delay us for half
an hour or more. Of these three, the second was the largest, and was
known by the name of Mbangoh. Notwithstanding the vexation and
harassment, to which I was unaccustomed, I found many an opportunity
of gathering shrubs and plants of interest from the promiscuous
vegetation amidst which we made our way.

The shades of night had gathered, when, after passing the last of the
rivulets, we arrived at some farms in a cultivated spot. There was
indication of rain, and a great deal of commotion ensued in taking
precaution against it; luckily, however, we escaped with only a few
heavy drops, and having been relieved from anxiety by a general
clearing of the weather, we enjoyed the good night’s rest which our
hard day’s toil had earned.

In order that we might arrive at Wando’s residence in good time on the
following day, we made our start punctually at sunrise. After we had
marched for half a league over open steppe, and had effected our
passage over the Dyagbe, the signal was sounded for the morning halt.

[Sidenote: ABOO SAMMAT’S INTERVIEW WITH WANDO.]

Mohammed here expressed his intention of having a preliminary
conference with Wando before we definitively pitched our camp, and
borrowing my revolver, as he had done before, he set out with the
utmost composure, attended solely by his black body-guard, the
Farookh. At the head of these he hurried away at a pace so fast that
the lads who carried his arms could scarcely keep up with him. It is
characteristic of the Nubians that whenever they have important
transactions on hand they always move with extreme rapidity.

Within an hour Mohammed returned, perfectly content with his
interview, and proceeded at once to conduct the caravan to the station
allotted to it, close to the banks of the Dyagbe, and just about the
distance of an arrowshot from the wall of foliage which formed the
confine of the primeval forest. Taking their hatchets, the bearers
entered the thickets and hewed down long stakes, with which they set
to work to construct some huts, my own people meanwhile busying
themselves by providing some posts and props which I required equally
for the protection of my baggage from the dampness of the ground and
for placing it out of the reach of white ants. I had brought some deal
boards with me from Khartoom, and by putting these upon the props a
convenient arrangement was made for storing in the narrowest compass a
good deal of baggage. Space in my tent was necessarily very limited.

Every hand was set to work, and in a very short time a number of
pretty little huts were erected with no other material than the fresh
grass; and when the baggage had all been properly secured there
commenced a brisk and very amicable commerce with the natives. Fine
elephant-tusks were brought for sale, and found no lack of ready
purchasers. Presents of cloth and beads were freely distributed, for
the double purpose of putting the people into a good mood and of
inducing them to disclose new resources for procuring ivory. Wando
himself appeared arrayed in a large shirt of figured calico, made with
long sleeves, which he wore (in the same way as all the other native
chieftains) solely out of compliment to the donor. As soon as the
visitors withdrew he deemed it an attire below his dignity, and could
not condescend to trick himself out in a dress which ordinarily was
reserved as a kind of curiosity for his wardrobe.

The cannibal prince, of whom for some days we had been in such dread,
looked a harmless mortal enough as he strolled through the camp
arm-in-arm with Mohammed’s officers; no doubt they had enjoyed a
mutual drink to each other’s health.

The kind of beads which the Niam-niam prefer wearing, when they can
procure them, is that which is known in Khartoom commerce as
“mandyoor,” consisting of a long polyhedral prism, about as large as a
bean and blue as lapis lazuli. Hardly any other kind retains any value
at all. Cowries are still used as a decoration on the national
costume, but the demand for them is not great, and for ten years past
they have not formed at all an important item in the Khartoom traffic.
Fashion extends its sway even as far as these remote wildernesses,
which have their own special demand for “novelties.”

As medium of exchange, nothing here was of any value except copper and
iron, which never failed to be accepted in payment. English copper,
which the Khartoomers take with them in long bars about three-quarters
of an inch thick, is most in repute; but not unfrequently they make
use of the lumps of copper which they obtain from the mines to the
south of Darfoor. With any other resources for obtaining copper the
inhabitants of the country through which I travelled appear to be
hardly acquainted, though possibly the Congo region might, in former
times, have found an outlet for its store in this direction. To
provide suitable small change for their minor purchases, the
expeditions to the Niam-niam always include among their bearers a
certain number of smiths, who from the larger bars and ingots
fabricate rings of all sizes, from the circlet to go round the arm
down to the ring just large enough to fit the finger. These rings are
made from quadrangular bars, the ends of which are subsequently
reduced to taper points. It may be added, by way of example, that for
a finger ring a Niam-niam would give a chicken, although the copper
material itself was not worth three farthings.

[Sidenote: COST OF IVORY.]

Here, at its fountain-head, ivory, as might naturally be expected, may
be obtained in barter at a very trifling cost. On the coast of Guinea
it is necessary to part with a whole host of commodities, guns, cloth,
knives, looking-glasses, and what not, for a single tusk of an
elephant; but a Niam-niam is contented if he can get half a bar of
copper, which would not be worth more than four or five dollars. Not
only, however, would there be some additional presents of cloth or
beads, but the weight and transport would have to be taken into
account. The prime cost here would probably be scarcely five per cent.
of the value of the ivory, which fluctuating, of course, according to
quality, generally, on an average, in Europe realises two or three
dollars a pound; whilst on the other hand, the same purchase could not
be made at the harbours upon the western coasts for much less than 80
per cent. of the gross value. Through the immense outlay which is
entailed upon the Khartoom merchants by the support of so many
soldiers, and, in fact, from the precarious results of the
expeditions, the ultimate profit is really so moderate and it is
gained at so much risk, that the ivory trade on the whole is not
flourishing. But how matters could practically be mended, or how the
expenses of proceeding in the lands of the Upper Nile could be
diminished, I confess I have no scheme to propose. The lands are not
only so remote from the coast, but they are so far away even from the
navigable rivers, that they can never play an important part in the
traffic of the world; nor can the railway which it is in contemplation
to construct between Khartoom and Egypt introduce any material change
into the existing condition of things.

So full of bustle was our camp life that it was not till nightfall
that I had an opportunity of inquiring from Mohammed what had
transpired during his interview with Wando. I now learnt that the
revolver he had borrowed had done him a good turn. He had hurried on
in front of his escort, and had gone boldly to the chieftain to
reprimand him for his equivocal behaviour; but he had no sooner
entered the hut than he was encircled by a troop of Wando’s
satellites, who levelled their lances at him in a most threatening
attitude. He felt himself a prisoner, but, undismayed, he cried out
that his life should cost them a thousand lives, and, snapping the
revolver, he dared them to touch him at their peril. The intimidated
Niam-niam at once assumed a milder tone, and, thanks, as Mohammed
said, to his temerity, everything turned out well.

We remained in Wando’s camp from the 2nd to the 6th of March. The wood
at Dyagbe was most luxuriant, and every day it unlocked to me new and
untold treasures, which were a permanent delight. Here, too, was
unfolded before my gaze the full glory of what we shall in future
understand as “a gallery.”

My predecessor, the Italian Piaggia, whose meagre description of the
Niam-niam lands betrays, in spite of all, an acute power of
observation, has designated these tracts of bank vegetation as
“galleries.” The expression seems to me so appropriate and significant
that I cannot help wishing it might be generally adopted. I will
endeavour briefly to state in what the peculiarities of these
“galleries” consist.

In a way that answers precisely to the description which Dr.
Livingstone in his last accounts has given of the country to the west
of Lake Tanganyika, and which is not adequately accounted for either
by the geological aspect of the region or by any presumed excess of
rain, there is sometimes found a numerical aggregate of springs which
is beyond precedent. These springs result in a perpetual waterflow,
which in the north would all be swallowed up by the thirsty soil of
low and open plains, but which here in the Niam-niam country is all
restrained within deep-cut channels that form, as it were, walls to
confine the rippling stream. The whole country, which is nowhere less
than 2000 feet above the level of the sea, is like an over-full
sponge. The consequence of this is, that many plants which in the
north disappear as soon as the fall of the waters deprives them of
their moisture, are here found flourishing all the year round; so that
all the vales and chinks through which the water makes its way are
permanently adorned with a tropical luxuriance. The variety of trees
and the manifold developments of the undergrowth conspire to present a
spectacle charming as any that could be seen upon the coast of Guinea
or in the countries which are watered by the lower Niger. But,
notwithstanding all this, the vegetation altogether retains its own
specific character up in the higher tracts between stream and stream,
and corresponds to what we have been familiar with ever since we put
our foot upon the red soil of Bongoland, being a park-like wood, of
which the most conspicuous feature is the magnitude of the leaves.

[Sidenote: DUALISM OF VEGETATION.]

I have previously had occasion to mention how a dualism of the same
kind marked the vegetation of the whole country south of the Hoo,
where the formation of the land first changed from the monotonous
alternations between low grass flats and undulated wood-terraces. It
would almost seem as if the reason for the altered law which presides
over the water-courses is to be sought in the increasing elevation of
the soil, and in the opening of the lower plain of the swamp-ore,
which, being furrowed up with a multitude of channels, allows the
unfailing supply of all the numerous springs to flow away.

Trees with immense stems, and of a height surpassing all that we had
elsewhere seen (not even excepting the palms of Egypt), here stood in
masses which seemed unbounded except where at intervals some less
towering forms rose gradually higher and higher beneath their shade.
In the innermost recesses of these woods one would come upon an avenue
like the colonnade of an Egyptian temple, veiled in the leafy shade of
a triple roof above. Seen from without, they had all the appearance of
impenetrable forests, but, traversed within, they opened into aisles
and corridors which were musical with many a murmuring fount.

Hardly anywhere was the height of these woods less than 70 feet, and
on an average it was much nearer 100; yet, viewed from without, they
very often failed to present anything of that imposing sight which was
always so captivating when taken from the brinks of the brooks within.
In some places the sinking of the ground along which the
gallery-tunnels ran would be so great that not half the wood revealed
itself at all to the contiguous steppes, while in that wood (out of
sight as it was) many a “gallery” might still exist.

Most of those gigantic trees, the size of the stems of which exceed
any of our own venerable monarchs of the woods, belong to the class
either of the _Sterculiæ_ or the _Boswelliæ_, to which perhaps may be
added that of the _Cæsalpiniæ_; the numerous Fig-trees, the
_Artocarpeæ_, the _Euphorbiaceæ_, and the endless varieties of the
_Rubiaceæ_, must be entirely excluded from that category, and few
representatives of this grade belong to the region of the underwood.
Amongst the plants of second and third rank there were many of the
large-leaved varieties, and the figs again, as well as the
_Papilionaceæ_ and especially the _Rubiaceæ_ had an important place to
fill. There was no lack of thorny shrubberies; and the _Oncoba_, the
_Phyllanthus_, the _Celastrus_, and the _Acacia ataxacantha_, cluster
after cluster, were met with in abundance. Thick creepers climbed from
bough to bough, the _Modecca_ being the most prominent of all; but the
_Cissus_ with its purple leaf, the _Coccinea_, the prickly _Smilax_,
the _Helmiæ_, and the _Dioscoreæ_ all had their part to play. Made up
of these, the whole underwood spread out its ample ramifications, its
green twilight made more complete by the thickness of the substance of
the leaves themselves.

[Sidenote: FERNS.]

Down upon the very ground, again, there were masses, all but
impenetrable, of plants of many and many a variety which contributed
to fill up every gap that was left in this mazy labyrinth of foliage.
First of all there were the extensive jungles of the _Amoma_ and the
_Costus_ rising full fifteen feet high, and of which the rigid stems
(like the haulms of the towering grass) either bar out the progress of
a traveller altogether or admit him, if he venture to force his way
among them, only to fall into the sloughs of muddy slime from which
they grow. And then there was the marvellous world of ferns destitute
indeed of stems, but running in their foliage to some twelve feet
high. Boundless in the variety of the feathery articulations of their
fronds, some of them seemed to perform the graceful part of throwing a
veil over the treasures of the wood; and others lent a charming
contrast to the general uniformity of the leafy scene. High above
these there worked themselves the large slim-stemmed _Rubiaceæ_
(_Coffeæ_), which by regularity of growth and symmetry of leaf
appeared to imitate, and in a measure to supply the absence of, the
arboraceous ferns. Of all other ferns the most singular that I
observed was that which I call the elephant’s ear. This I found up in
trees at a height of more than 50 feet, in association with the
_Angræca_ and the long grey barb of the hanging _Usneæ_.

Whenever the stems of the trees failed to be thickly overgrown by some
of these different ferns, they were rarely wanting in garlands of the
crimson-berried pepper which twined themselves around. Far as the eye
could reach it rested solely upon green which did not admit a gap. The
narrow paths that wound themselves partly through and partly around
the growing thickets were formed by steps consisting of bare and
protruding roots which retained the light loose soil together.
Mouldering stems, thickly clad with moss, obstructed the passage at
well-nigh every turn. The air was no longer that of the sunny steppe,
nor that of the shady grove; it was stifling as the atmosphere of a
palm-house; its temperature might vary from 70° to 80° Fahr., but it
was so overloaded with an oppressive moisture exhaled by the rank
foliage that the traveller could not feel otherwise than relieved to
escape.

To the European lover of his garden everything at first might seem to
be as artistic in its grouping as it was abundant in its luxuriance;
but the screaming outcry of the birds in the branches above, the
annoying activity of the insect world, and beyond all, the amazing
swarms of minute ants which come showering down from every twig upon
anyone who intrudes upon their haunts, detract very considerably from
the enjoyment of this prodigality of nature. Yet for those who could
persevere there was much to compensate in the general solemnity of the
scene, for the sound of the rustling of the foliage above could
scarcely penetrate the weird shades below. Butterflies gay and busy in
countless swarms, with their gleaming yellow wings, gave animation to
the repose of the eternal green, and made up for any deficiency of
radiant bloom.

Our encampment was but comparatively a few steps away from this
unbounded storehouse of creative wealth, so that with the greatest
convenience I could prepare within my tent for all my explorations.
That dual character of the vegetation to which I have referred offers
a great advantage to the botanist in this teeming district. In the
damp atmosphere of the western coasts the drying of plants is hardly
ever capable of being accomplished without exposing them for a time
before a fire, an operation which has generally the effect of inducing
a blackness over the specimens which necessarily very materially
increases the difficulty of their being scientifically examined when
they reach their destination in Europe; but here, except upon a
thoroughly wet day, the plants will all dry just as readily as they
would in a country where water is the reverse of abundant. When plants
have been gathered and dried in the hot steamy atmosphere of Guinea,
and corresponding plants have been gathered and dried as they are
found in Nubia, the comparison of the two may assist in establishing
what relations exist between the bank wood and the steppes of the
different countries.

[Sidenote: WANDO.]

I had already made the acquaintance of Wando’s sons, but hardly
expected the honour that Wando himself paid me by visiting me in my
tent. A troop of armed men composed his retinue and arranged
themselves in a circle round the tent, whilst, with all deference, I
made my illustrious guest the offer of my own seat which I had brought
with me from the Gazelle. Wando was somewhat below a medium height,
but he could show a large development of muscle, and no insignificant
amount of fat. His features were of so marked and well-defined a
character, that in their way they might be pronounced good, the head
itself being almost perfectly round. Nothing took me more by surprise
at Wando’s entrance than the perfect self-possession, which might
almost be called _nonchalance_, with which he took the proffered seat.
Savage as he was, his composure and native dignity were those of which
no European when receiving homage would need to be ashamed. Crossing
his arms upon his breast, he reclined one leg upon the other, and
began to throw the centre of gravity of his bulky frame so far behind
the perpendicular that I was in momentary fear lest the back of my
chair which creaked audibly at every movement of the Niam-niam
potentate, should be faithless to its trust. It seemed to sigh beneath
its burden. Wando reminded me in more than one respect of the portly
king of Ovampo, on whom Galton with some trouble forced the crown that
had been brought from the theatre. With the merest apology of a piece
of skin to cover him, he sat in all but absolute nakedness, revealing
the exuberance of fat which clothed his every limb.

It was commonly said of Wando that he was the avowed enemy of all
cannibalism. I was informed in various quarters that people from the
neighbouring districts had come to him when they found themselves
growing too fat, and had declared that they did not consider their
lives were safe on account of the men-eaters by whom they were
surrounded. But the sentiments of the chieftain did not appear to
exercise much influence upon the majority of his subjects, as we only
too soon became aware as we advanced farther to the south.

This visit of Wando’s gave me an opportunity of which I did not omit
to avail myself of entering my indignant protest against the want of
hospitality with which on his part we had been received. I recounted
to him by way of contrast the many acts of liberality which had been
shown us by the Nubians in general, assuring him that my dogs had
received more care from them than I, their master, had received from
him, king though he was; to supply my dogs with meat, goats had been
killed, and for myself bullocks had never been spared. Wando
remonstrated, saying that he had neither one nor the other; but I made
him understand that he had plenty of poultry, certainly enough, and
more than enough, for me and my people. Finally, I proceeded to let
him know what I thought of his hostile demonstration before our
arrival; and while I spoke I dashed my fist upon the camp-table which
stood before us, till the plates and drinking vessels clattered and
jingled again. My personal attendants, however, Mohammed Ameen and
Petherick’s old servant, the travelled and experienced Riharn, knew
better, after all, than I did, how to take Wando to task. Pointing to
me, they made him comprehend that he was threatened with a most
certain and speedy judgment if he suffered a Frank to come to the most
trifling harm. They charged him not to forget that it was a Frank he
was dealing with, and that it was quite within the power of a Frank to
make the earth to yawn and from every rent to give out flames that
should consume his land. And as they spoke, the interpreters explained
all, word for word, to his excited understanding. Intimidated to that
degree of which none but a negro is capable, and only eager to avert a
miserable fate, he hurried back to fulfil his promise of sending
provisions without stint or delay.

[Sidenote: A TEMPTING DISH.]

Almost immediately afterwards a number of his people came teeming in,
bringing not only some lean and half-fed poultry, but a lot of great
black earthen pots which they laid down as offerings from their master
at the opening of my tent. A revolting smell of burning oil, black
soap, and putrid fish rose and stunk in the nostrils of all who were
curious enough to investigate, even from a distance, the contents of
the reeking jars; to those who were so venturesome as actually to peer
into the vessels, there was revealed a dark-coloured stew of threads
and fibres, like loosened tow floating between leather shavings and
old whip-thongs. Truly it was the production of a savage, and I may
say of an indigenous, cookery, such as our progenitors in their
primeval forests might have prepared for themselves out of roast
rhinoceros or mammoth-foot. There seemed a rebound in the lapse of
time. As matter of fact, the caldrons were full of a burnt smoky
_ragoût_ made from the entrails of an elephant some two hundred years
old, very tough and exceedingly rank. This wonderful example of
nature’s earliest promptings was handed first to me by the Bongo
bearers, whom I at once begged to accept for themselves the dainty
dish of the savages; but even the Nubians, not at all too fastidious
generally in anything which their religion permits them to eat,
rejected the mess with the greatest disdain.

It had happened some years before, as one of Ghattas’s companies was
making their way across Wando’s territories, that six Nubians were
murdered in the woods by some natives who had accompanied them to the
chase, professing to be their guides. As soon as the Nubians had fired
away all their ammunition in shooting at their game they had no means
of defence left in their power, and consequently were easily mastered.
Mohammed at once sent to demand the six guns, which beyond a doubt
were in the possession of Wando’s people—so anxious was he to prevent
the natives from becoming acquainted with the use of firearms. Wando
commenced by denying his ability to meet the demand, and then resorted
to procrastination; but subsequently, pressed by Mohammed, who
declared that the continuance of his friendly relations must depend
upon the restitution of the guns, he surrendered four of them,
asserting that the others could not be found. Any further satisfaction
was not to be expected, because on the one hand there was either no
getting the perpetrators into custody, and on the other, even if they
could be brought from their place of refuge, no one could be bribed to
give any substantial evidence against them.

On the second day after our arrival at Wando’s residence, attended by
a considerable number of natives and a dozen soldiers, I made an
excursion out for about two leagues northwards along the banks of the
Dyagbe. Guereza-monkeys in merry groups were in the foliage above, but
I was not fortunate enough to bring down more than a single specimen.
According to the statements of my guides, who were hunters by
profession, chimpanzees were numerous, but we certainly did not get a
glimpse of one. Very weary with my exertions of tramping over the
marshy ground I was rejoiced to bring back into camp an ample booty in
the way of botanical rarities.

[Sidenote: THE LEAF-EATER.]

During our travels I had obtained from the Niam-niam who accompanied
our caravan an epithet which I never lost in all the subsequent stages
of our journey. In their own dialect these people called me
“Mbarik-pa,” which would be equivalent to a name amongst us of
“Leaf-eater.” It was a designation that reminded me very vividly of my
professional brother David Douglas, who fell a martyr to his devotion
to Nature, and who was known amongst the North-American Indians as
“the Grass-man.”

My Niam-niam interpreter Gyabir, as I learnt some time afterwards, had
given his friends some marvellous accounts of the way in which I was
accustomed to eat whatever I found growing. He used to relate that I
had a habit of dismissing my attendants and getting into a dense
thicket where I imagined that I was unobserved, and that then I used
with great haste to gather and devour enormous quantities of leaves,
and he added that this was the way in which, one day after another, I
groped after my ordinary food. Others contributed their observation
that I invariably came forth from the woods with an exhilarated
expression and quite a satiated look, whilst they were conscious of
nothing else than the cravings of hunger. After all it was very
natural; for the inspiration which is derived from contemplating
Nature can elevate one far above his mortal and bodily wants.

The dominant idea which seemed to be impressed upon the natives by my
botanical ardour concentrated itself upon their conviction as to the
character of the country where the white man has his home. According
to their belief the land wherein the white men spent their lives could
show neither grass nor tree, and consisted of nothing better than
sandy plain and stony flat. Those amongst them who had been carried
away as slaves in the ivory expeditions and had returned again from
Khartoom had brought strange accounts of the grim desolation and utter
drought of the Moslem lands over which they had passed; and what, they
asked, must be the condition of the still remoter countries of the
Frank, of whom they only knew that he kept the Turk supplied with
cotton-stuffs and guns?




                              CHAPTER XII.

  Poultry-market. Votive pillars and hunting-trophies. Indirect
     evidence of cannibalism. The chimpanzee in Central Africa,
     Presents of chimpanzee skulls. New style of huts. The A-Banga.
     Cultivation of manioc in Central Africa. The Treculia. Cam-wood
     and muscat nuts. Conflict with natives. Shooting-match and sham
     fight. Magic lucifers. Mutual interchange of blood. Botanical
     excursion interrupted. Gyabir wounded. Modes of expressing pain.
     Female slaves captured. Giant lichens. Tree-termites. Monbuttoo
     frontier. Reception by Nembey. Northern limit of the oil-palm.
     Imaginary alarm. Unexpected arrival of Khartoomers. Visit of
     Bongwa and his wife. Cattle of the Maogoo. Cultivation of the
     sugar-cane. Interview with Izingerria. Arrival at the Welle.
     Condition of the Welle. Relations of the stream. Crossing the
     river. Monbuttoo canoes. New impressions of the heart of Africa.
     Arrival at Munza’s residence.


At sunrise, on the 6th of March, we took our departure from the abode
of Wando. For our security on the way, the caravan was attended by a
number of guides which the chieftain had placed at our disposal. Just
before starting, the intelligence arrived of the death of Nduppo, the
alienated and hostile brother of Wando. A party of armed men had been
despatched by Wando, and after a short conflict they had killed the
enemy. Nduppo’s wives and children had taken refuge in Mohammed’s
Seriba, where they met with a hospitable reception and were provided
with the residence and provisions that were necessary for their
support.

According to a custom which is generally recognised in Central Africa,
whenever a caravan mistakes its way and is obliged to retrace its
steps and return to a road from which it has deviated, a bough is
thrown across the wrong path and a furrow is scratched in the ground
by means of the feet, so that no succeeding caravans may fall into the
same error. This duty is entrusted to the people accompanying the
standard-bearer in the rear.

The route of the first day led us along the right bank of the Dyagbe,
past Wando’s tall conical huts, and through a gallery of picturesque
wood scenery. Having forded the stream which, plentifully supplied
with water, resolved itself into several channels, we rested on the
farther side amidst the outlying homesteads of the district. The
startled inmates made a momentary escape; but soon recovered from
their alarm, and returning to their dwellings commenced a brisk
business in selling poultry all along our line. The men alone,
however, brought their fowls, tied up in bundles, to the market; the
women kept themselves quite aloof. After a brook of smaller dimensions
had been crossed and some more groups of huts had been left behind,
the caravan arrived at a stream of considerable magnitude known as the
Billwey, but which so much resembled the Dyagbe in the shady character
of its banks that it might very easily be mistaken for it. Then ensued
two of the “gallery” paths, the first being quite small, the other
somewhat larger and known by the name of Mono. The district still
seemed to be fairly populous, and from all sides we were met by people
who came to us partly to offer their services as guides, and partly to
learn what particulars they could about the intentions of the caravan.
There was a coming and going which a European might compare to the
bustle of a general holiday at home.

Without stopping, however, we continued our progress, and by noon we
reached a brook called Diamvonoo, one of the gallery streams, of which
the banks were enclosed by dwellings. Here we halted close to the huts
of the superintendent of the place.

[Illustration: NIAM-NIAM HAMLET ON THE DIAMVONOO.]

[Sidenote: TOKENS OF CANNIBALISM.]

The Niam-niam residences seem never to fail in having some posts which
the natives erect for the purpose of displaying, in proof of their
bravery, whatever trophies of success they have gained either in
hunting or in war. To this practice, as established on the Diamvonoo,
my osteological collection is indebted for some considerable
additions. Attached to the projections of these memorial posts were
skulls of antelopes of many a species, skulls of little monkeys and of
great baboons, skulls of wild boars and of chimpanzees, and I must not
hesitate to add, skulls of men! These were in some cases quite entire,
whilst in others they were mere fragments. They were fastened to the
erections like the presents on a Christmas-tree, but instead of being
gifts for children, they were treasures for the comparative anatomist.
Too decisive to be misunderstood were the evidences of the propensity
to cannibalism which met our astonished gaze. Close to the huts,
amongst the pile of refuse, were human bones, which bore the
unquestionable tokens of having been subjected to the hatchet or the
knife; and all around upon the branches of the neighbouring trees were
hanging human feet and hands more than half shrivelled into a skeleton
condition, but being as yet only partially dry, and imperfectly
sheltered by the leaves, they polluted the atmosphere with a revolting
and intolerable stench. The prospect was not inviting, and the asylum
offered to travellers was far from tempting; but we did not suffer
ourselves to be discouraged, and made up our minds to be as
comfortable as we could in our little huts.

Without loss of time I betook myself naturally to the chase for
trophies, Mohammed entering with so much zeal into my pursuit after
the skulls of some of the chimpanzees, that he clambered up one of the
votive pillars. This drew upon us the eyes of the astonished natives,
and their amazement seemed to be especially directed to the
circumstance of our taking so much trouble into our own hands. “You
have plenty of slaves,” they said, “you are chieftains and have
authority; how is it that you are not ashamed to work for yourselves
in the way you do?” This, probably, was spoken in derision, or
probably in a measure as a reproach to us for appropriating what did
not belong to us. However, I put on the air of munificence, and set
matters all right by a prodigal distribution of copper rings.

Taking into account the large number of skulls of chimpanzees, more or
less perfect, which I saw in the hamlets on the Diamvonoo, I am sure
that I am quite justified in my impression that this spot must be one
of the centres from which these creatures circulate their kind. Upon
the Western African coasts the prevalence of the chimpanzee breed is
very considerable, extending from the Gambia down to Benguela. But in
the interior, on the other hand, the haunt of the chimpanzee hitherto
has been supposed to be limited to the country of the Niam-niam.
Previous to my arrival the Khartoom people had been the means of
securing some defective skins, which were sent to various museums, and
these were quite sufficient to confirm the fact of the existence of
chimpanzees in that quarter. But so great was the variety in age and
kind, so marked the difference in these beasts according as they came
from one district or another, that a whole series, it appeared, of
varying species had to be distinguished and arranged by means of
material which was totally inadequate for scientific classification.
Nearly all the specimens at hand were those of very young animals, and
no mammal is known which as it grows older is subject to more decided
changes in its external appearance than the anthropomorphic ape.

I am not speaking of Du Chaillu’s gorilla. This largest of all apes is
sufficiently known, and its specific stability is no longer a matter
of doubt. Its range, however, is apparently very limited, as hitherto
it has only been found in the delta of the Ogowai.

[Sidenote: TROGLODYTES NIGER.]

On the other hand the chimpanzee, as it exists far and wide in the
west of Africa, has, in consequence of its individual and collective
features, been divided into a long series of supposed species,
varieties, and races, about which the most skilled investigators in
this branch of natural history are by no means agreed. In one point
they seem to be unanimous, and all concur in recognising the
_Troglodytes niger_, E. Geoffr., as the progenitor or the normal type
of this series of anthropomorphic apes.

The chimpanzee of Central Africa, to judge from the specimens that
have found their way to European museums, differs in many respects
from the true _Troglodytes niger_, E. Geoffr., and may be accounted as
a separate race which in the lapse of time has developed itself, and
adapted its condition to subsistence in far out-lying regions.
Professor Giglioli, of Florence has classified it as a subsidiary kind
or sub-species, to which he has assigned my own name, because, in
1866, I was the first to bring any definite information about it. In a
work[47] elaborated with the utmost care he has collected every detail
that science offered to his hand. According to Giglioli the chimpanzee
of the Niam-niam countries was distinguished from the _Troglodytes
niger_ of Western Africa by the large capacity of its brain chamber,
which he thought could very probably not be matched by any other
species. We are indebted to Professor R. Hartmann, of Berlin, for a
monograph[48] which has collected into one view, and may be said to
exhaust, all the material which has hitherto been brought to bear upon
this topic. From a comparison of a very large number of specimens of
very various origin, he has come to the conclusion that the Niam-niam
chimpanzee has no such marked distinction as to isolate it in a
systematic sense, and that notwithstanding some subordinate
characteristics of race, it must still be reckoned as one amongst the
many forms of the _Troglodytes niger_.

In modern times there are no animals in creation which have attracted
a larger amount of attention from the scientific student of nature,
than these great quadrumani, which are stamped with such singular
resemblance to the human form as to have justified the epithet of
anthropomorphic. The most distinguished zoologists and anatomists have
devoted to them their best and undivided attention, and their industry
has resulted in the publication of splendid works in illustration of
their studies. The labours of Giglioli and Hartmann indicate a still
further advance in these strivings after truth. These inquiries cannot
fail to be as supremely interesting to man, as the crown of creation,
as the prospect of the ultimate solution of the problems of
ethnography still hidden in the heart of the continent of Africa, must
be to the civilised nations of Europe. But all investigation at
present only leads human intelligence to a confession of its
insufficiency; and nowhere is caution more to be advocated, nowhere is
premature judgment more to be deprecated, than in the attempt to
bridge over the mysterious chasm which separates man and beast.

Justly enough has Hartmann expressed his indignation against those
ephemeral writers and those _dilettanti_, who, incapable of scientific
research and unfurnished with scientific material, have ventured to
handle the topic of the “anthropomorphic apes.” These empty theorists,
when they circulate their baseless, or at least their unripe,
hypotheses, may perchance persuade themselves that they have mastered
the doctrine either of the elevation of the ape or the deterioration
of man; but in reality they have done nothing but aggravate the
bewilderment which already had turned the heads of a half-wise
generation.

[Sidenote: CHIMPANZEES.]

It was getting well onwards towards night, and by the red glare of the
pitch-torch which is the invariable resource for lighting the
Niam-niam huts, I was getting my supper, in the simplicity of the
primitive times of creation, off sweetened plantains and tapioca, when
I was interrupted by a visit from some of the natives who lived close
at hand. They had come to dispose of a collection of fine skulls of
the chimpanzee, and I effected the purchase by means of some large
copper rings. The people told me of the abundance of these creatures
in the adjacent woods, and related a number of the adventures which
had befallen them in their arduous attempts to capture them: they
promised, moreover, to bring me some further contributions for my
collection, but unfortunately I could not wait to receive them; we
could not prolong our stay because of the scarcity of provisions, and
we had to start betimes on the following morning. Altogether I made an
addition of about a dozen skulls to what I had previously secured, but
many interesting fragments I much regretted being obliged to leave
behind, having no alternative on account of my limited means of
transport.

It was not my good fortune to witness a chimpanzee hunt. This is
always an arduous undertaking, involving many difficulties. According
to the statements of the Niam-niam themselves the chase requires a
party of twenty or thirty resolute hunters, who have to ascend the
trees, which are some eighty feet high, and to clamber after the agile
and crafty brutes until they can drive them into the snares prepared
beforehand. Once entangled in a net, the beasts are without much
further difficulty killed by means of spears. However, in some cases
they will defend themselves savagely and with all the fury of despair.
Driven by the hunters into a corner, they were said to wrest the
lances from the men’s hands and to make good use of them against the
adversary. Nothing was more to be dreaded than being bitten by their
tremendous fangs, or getting into the grasp of their powerful arms.
Just as in the woods of the west, all manner of stories were rife as
to how they had carried off young girls, and how they defended their
plunder, and how they constructed wonderful nests upon the topmost
boughs of the trees—all these tales, of course, being but the purest
fabrications.

Amongst the Niam-niam, the chimpanzee is called “Ranya,” or
“Manjarooma;” in the Arabic of the Soudan, where long ago its
existence seems to have been known, it was included in the general
name of “Ba-ahm.” The life which the Ranya leads is very much like
what is led by the ourang-outang in Borneo, and is spent almost
entirely in the trees, the woods on the river-banks being the chief
resort of the animals. But in the populous Monbuttoo country, where
the woodlands have been thinned to permit the extensive cultivation of
plantains, the chimpanzees exhibit a great fear of man, and pass their
existence in comparative solitariness. Like the gorillas, they are not
found in herds, but either in pairs or even quite alone, and it is
only the young which occasionally may be seen in groups.

For three leagues we advanced on the next day towards the S.S.W.; and
this was the general direction, with little variation, by which we
continued our progress to the Monbuttoo. During this short interval we
crossed no less than five water-brooks, each of them bounded by its
“galleries,” and halted at last upon the right bank of a sixth which
was named the Assika. It was close to the quarters of a chief whose
name was Kollo. With the exception of a slight elevation lying to the
right, the whole surface of the land between the streams was level
steppe. The borders of these streams were all well-populated; the soil
was entirely under cultivation, and appeared to be very productive. We
found ourselves here amidst a tribe, differing widely in habits and
dialect from the Niam-niam, and which bore the semblance of being a
transition population allied to the Monbuttoo who occupied the
districts in our front.

[Sidenote: THE A-BANGA.]

This tribe is distinguished by the name of the A-Banga. They are said
to have come across the wide desert, which bounds the territories of
the two nations, and quite recently to have migrated into the lands of
the Niam-niam, submitting themselves voluntarily to the sway of Wando.
A very similar migration, resulting in the partial blending of the two
people, seems to have occurred in the west, where the A-Madi,[49]
driven out by over-population, their product of roots and plantains,
which they obtained without toil, being inadequate for their support,
resorted to the Gangarra hills of Indimma. Some chance few of the
A-Madi were found intermixed with the A-Banga. Both of these could be
thoroughly identified with the Monbuttoo by their habits and mode of
life, but with regard to dialect, they would seem to have been much
influenced by their intermixture with the bordering population of the
Niam-niam. The last home which they occupied as a clan was the
populous province which the Monbuttoo king Munza now possesses to the
north of the Welle. As the greater part of the A-Banga are quite
capable of speaking the Zandey (or Niam-niam) dialect, I had no
difficulty by the aid of my interpreters in holding conversation with
them; beyond the Welle, however, there were very few with whom they
were able to converse.

The first hamlets of the A-Banga which we entered, made it at once
clear that they adopted quite a different style of building their huts
to what we had already seen. The conical form of the roofs, employed
as it is in nearly every other region of Central Africa, here began to
give place to the roof with a gable end which is universal farther
south. The square huts themselves were sometimes constructed with
posts and left open like sheds, and were sometimes enclosed by four
walls.

The dress and war equipment of the A-Banga are the same as those of
the Monbuttoo. The ears of both sexes are pierced so that a good thick
stick can easily be run through the aperture, and for this purpose the
concave portion of the ear is cut out. As a consequence of this custom
both the A-Banga and the Monbuttoo have acquired from the Nubians the
name of the Gurrugurroo (derived from the word gurgur which signifies
“bored”) to distinguish them from the Niam-niam, which is their term
to denote all cannibals. The A-Banga and Monbuttoo also practise
circumcision, whilst the Niam-niam abstain entirely from any
mutilation of the body.

[Illustration: An A-Banga.]

Turned up into a high chignon, the hair is worn by the women of the
A-Banga without any head-covering, the men commonly adopting the mode
of the Niam-niam, who wear a straw hat without a brim. Some of the
men, however, as in the accompanying portrait, make a compromise
between the Monbuttoo and Niam-niam fashion, wearing the hair in the
Monbuttoo style about the forehead and temples, and discarding the
chignon for the tufts worn by the Niam-niam. The small apron which
they wore was not, as with the Niam-niam, made of skin, but from the
bark of the Rokko fig-tree. The shields did not consist of the oval
wicker-work of rotang, but were four-cornered tables of wood of a
length sufficient to protect the entire body. In place of the trumbash
and Niam-niam lance, they carried the lances, scimitars, and bows and
arrows of the Monbuttoo. The women go all but entirely naked, wearing
nothing but a fragment of the bark of the fig-tree. Just under the
arms, in the same way as the Monbuttoo women, they bind a stout and
broad strip of some woven material, which when they sit upon their
benches and low stools hangs across their lap, and serves as well for
a girth in which to carry their little children.

[Sidenote: CULTIVATION OF MANIOC.]

In this intermediate district between the corn-lands and the lands in
which roots or fruits were cultivated, the fertility was very
wonderful, and the agricultural labour that was applied was very
great. Besides eleusine and maize there were many patches of
penicillaria: amongst earth-products I observed yams, helmia,
colocasia, manioc, and the sweet-potato; amongst various other
leguminous plants there grew the catyang or rawan-bean (_Vigna
sinensis_), the horse-bean (_Canavalia_), the voandzeia, and the
_Phasæolus lunatus_; the oily fruits included earth-nuts, sesame, and
hyptis; whilst there still remained room for Virginian tobacco, for
the sugar-cane, for the Rokko fig-tree, and for large numbers of
plantations of plantains (_Musa sapientium_).

Manioc plays an important part amongst the plants cultivated in this
region, both on account of the yield it gives and the small amount of
labour required in its cultivation. Here, as in Guiana and Brazil, it
seems to delight in a soil that is rather moist and somewhat shaded,
and accordingly the position which is usually chosen for its culture
is just on the border of the “galleries” on the open steppe. The end
of April, at the real commencement of the rainy season, is the best
time for planting it. The plant is of a leafy growth, it has hardly
any wood, and attains a height varying from three to six feet; the
mode of planting it consists simply of breaking off some pieces about
a span long, and burying them in the soil which has been superficially
broken up. It is quite unnecessary to trench it, since the soil is
naturally very light and loose, being composed principally of rotten
leaves. As the manioc is a year and a half or two years before it
produces strong tubers, it is customary to use the ground between the
rows, by planting, as is done elsewhere, various other crops, either
of maize, colocasia, or yams. One great advantage connected with the
manioc is the length of time for which the tubers may be left in the
earth after their full development: provided only the ants can be kept
from them, they will remain in good condition for two or three years;
consequently they do not require to be housed, and their culture
admits of leaving the granaries free for other provisions, in a way
quite different from most tubers, which would soon perish if suffered
to remain in the wet soil.

The gathering is nearly as simple a process as the planting. Each
single plant is pulled away from the loose earth, and the tubers are
allowed to remain attached. In quality and size they differ very
materially. As the death of our poor Bongo bearer had testified, some
of the varieties when eaten in a crude form are most poisonous, and
even when boiled they are very injurious unless the fibrous fringes
have been removed from the hearts. Scientific analysis has shown that
they contain a certain proportion of prussic acid, and there is no
doubt that their leaves when bruised emit the decided odour of bitter
almonds. The unwholesome kinds are generally of small growth, and as a
rule are of very woody texture. The finer and nutritious sorts grow as
large as a man’s arm, and being very tender may be eaten with no more
misgiving than the camanioc of Brazil, which is the form of the
vegetable for which a great partiality is shown by the Monbuttoo south
of the Welle.

No one can have travelled much in the tropics without being tolerably
acquainted with the mode commonly practised of dressing the manioc. I
will therefore only pause to mention that the method followed here of
getting rid of the poisonous matter does not consist so much in
expressing the juices as in cutting up the tubers into pieces, and
allowing them to remain in water for more than four-and-twenty hours;
the result is that they get a very tainted flavour, which, however,
disappears again in the process of drying. A long boiling finally
prepares the manioc for eating. The yield of starch, which is known as
South American tapioca, is estimated as one third of the weight of the
fresh tubers.

Very probably, I should think, manioc has found its way to this
extreme limit of its culture from Angola, by means of the intercourse
of the people with the states under the dominion of Miwata Yamvo, many
of whose customs appear to have been transferred to the Monbuttoo. But
in all the northern parts of the Nile region the cultivation of manioc
is still unknown, and although it has made its way into nearly all
countries on the coasts within the tropics, it has not advanced
towards Egypt as far as Nubia, or towards Arabia as far as Abyssinia.

Thoroughly authenticated, meanwhile, stands the fact that it was
originally planted by the Portuguese upon the western coasts, and
first of all in Angola. An inference may very fairly be deduced that
in this way various other plants, such as maize and tobacco, were
introduced into Africa, and only became naturalised at some date
subsequent to the discovery of America.

After scrutinising this district as fully as I could, I was surprised
never to find a single instance of the existence of the _Carica
papaya_, which has now for so long become indigenous to all the
maritime tropical countries of the world. Barth speaks of its
abundance in the states of Haussa, and other travellers in the tropics
have made frequent mention of its growth, but I do not remember
finding it in Egypt except as a garden curiosity, while in Nubia and
Abyssinia I never met with it at all. I was the first to introduce
tomatoes into the district of the Gazelle, and I have no doubt that
ere long they will be extensively grown even in the most central
localities of Africa. Cultivated so easily as they are, they
nevertheless seem to be utterly wanting throughout all the wild
districts that have been hitherto explored in the southern portion of
the continent.

On the 8th of March some ivory business on the part of Mohammed
entailed the break of a day in our continued march. The respite
afforded me an opportunity, which I readily embraced, of making a
botanising trip to the rich galleries of the woods on the Assika.
Bribed by a few copper rings, some natives willingly came with me and
were of infinite service in getting me the produce of some gigantic
trees which otherwise had been quite inaccessible. Amongst these trees
I may specially mention a Treculia, eighty feet high, known as the
“pushyoh,” one of the family of the Artocarpeæ. The great globular
fruit of this was larger than my head, and seemed to realise the wish
of the peasant in the fable where he longed for a tree which would
grow pumpkins. I stood and gazed with astonishment at the A-Banga, who
seemed to have all the nimbleness of monkeys. By taking hold of the
boughs of the smaller trees, and bending them down sideways, and
tearing down the long rope-like creepers, they contrived to climb the
tallest and the smoothest stems. Some of the trees were ten feet in
diameter at the base, and had a bark without a wrinkle; not
unfrequently they ran up to a height of some forty feet without
throwing out a single branch, standing, as it were, like the columns
of a thousand years in the piazzas of the Eternal City.

I had made some chain-shot, but neither by means of this nor by the
use of my heaviest single bullets could I succeed in getting any
specimens of the fruit which grew on the tops of the tallest trees; my
ordinary shot, however, sufficed to bring down some detached leaves,
from the examination of which I was able to form an opinion as to the
true scientific character of these giants of the wood. My proceedings
appeared to confirm the impression which the natives began to form
that I must be a leaf-eater.

Here on the Assika I found a kind of muscat-nut (_Myristica_), and
here too I gathered the first examples I had seen of the West African
cam-wood (_Pterolobium sandalinoides_), which after it has been
pulverised is commonly used as a favourite rouge for the skin of the
Niam-niam and Monbuttoo men. The women, in both districts alike, are
accustomed to stain themselves by preference with a black dye that is
extracted from the pulp of the Gardenia fruit, known as blippo. Here,
likewise, I again saw another of the notorious towering trees of
Africa, the mulberry-tree of Angola, which Welwitsch has asserted is
known to grow to a height of 130 feet.

[Sidenote: OPPOSITION.]

Reverting for a moment to what had transpired before, I may mention
that, on the preceding day, we had had our first disagreement with the
native population. Just before we reached the Assika we were about to
halt for a few minutes’ rest, when, although our caravan was
accompanied by Kollo and Bakinda, the chiefs of the district through
which we were pushing, the owner of the land came and began to inveigh
against us with the most abusive language, and, brandishing his spear
in defiance, opposed our intention to advance. He wanted to know what
right the Turks had to come spying out his place, and declared that he
would not submit to have them defile any of his quarters. An outbreak
seemed imminent; a mischievous combination was only too likely, when,
acting on Kollo’s advice, Mohammed managed to quiet the uproar. He
proceeded without further parley to set light to one of the straw huts
which was being used as a granary; and it would be impossible to
exaggerate the fright and amazement of the natives when they saw him
take the flaming fire out of his hand. One single lucifer match had
worked a miracle. There was no need of farther measures of reprisal
for our protection; when we reached the hamlets on the Assika we found
the natives quite amenable to our wishes, and ready to permit us to
instal ourselves amidst their dwellings.

In the evening Mohammed established a shooting match. The natives had
never been made familiar with the effect of our firearms, regarding
them only as clumsy lances, or, as they called them, great “iron
sticks,” and Mohammed felt it was desirable to inspire them with a
proper respect for the weapons. Selecting one of the thickest of the
wooden gates that, according to custom, swung in front of the huts, he
set it up for a target, and the general astonishment was unbounded
when it was discovered that out of fifty balls at a hundred paces, at
least ten had gone clean through the wood. The Bongo bearers were then
put through an exercise of feigning an attack. With wild outcry, and
still wilder boundings and jumpings, they rushed upon their imaginary
foe, representing, in their way, the light cavalry dashing in after
the prelude of the roar of the artillery. Then, to complete the
illusion of the spectacle, they seized huge clods of earth and great
clumps of grass, and so returned, a picture of troops laden with
spoil, to the position from which they had started. This was but a
sham fight; but a few weeks later, and the scene had to be re-enacted
in earnest.

The next movement of the caravan was towards the west. Twice there
were some brooks to cross, and after half a league we halted by the
Yuroo. We were now in a country with a large population, the whole
district being called Nabanda Yuroo, or the “villages of the Yuroo,”
as the names of the streams in this region always give their
designation to the land. The stream was shadowed in the usual way by
the thickly developed growth of the gallery foliage, and took a curve
in the form of a horse-shoe. Within the bend were scattered the
farmsteads surrounded by large groves of plantains of which the ripe
fruit had been already housed. The preparations that were set on foot
towards forming a camp without making use of the existing huts either
for the shelter of our baggage or for the reception of the superiors,
demonstrated at once that a residence here for some days was certainly
intended. The pretext alleged for the stay was to allow the
Mohammedans to solemnise the anniversary of their new year. The issue,
however, did not answer to the expectation.

[Sidenote: ENTERTAINING THE A-BANGA.]

I had here to exhibit myself to a larger number of curious eyes than
usual; but I was able to obtain the measurements of the skulls of some
of the A-Banga, whilst others were immortalised in my sketch-book. I
had also to provide for the entertainment of the people who came to
visit me, and in this respect was greatly assisted by my matches, as
the marvel of my being able to produce fire at my pleasure was an
inexhaustible source of interest. If ever I handed over a lucifer and
allowed them to light it themselves, their rapture surpassed all
bounds; they never failed to consider that the power of producing
flames resided in me, but their astonishment was very greatly
increased when they discovered that the faculty could be extended to
themselves. Giving the white man credit for being able to procure fire
or rain at his own free-will, they looked upon the performances as
miracles unparalleled since the dawn of creation. For myself, I sat
composedly apart, as though invested with some mysterious charm; but
to say the truth, I was rather bored by this conjuring, which was a
stale excitement to me, as it had now entered upon its second year of
performance. Still the wonder of the Africans seemed never to cease,
and they did not flag in their delight at the instantaneous flame.

The method of obtaining fire, practised alike by the natives of the
Nile lands and of the adjacent country in the Welle system, consists
simply in rubbing together two hard sticks at right angles to one
another till a spark is emitted. The hard twigs of the _Anona
senegalensis_ are usually selected for the purpose. Underneath them is
placed either a stone or something upon which a little pile of embers
has been laid; the friction of the upper piece of wood wears a hole in
the lower, and soon a spark is caught by the ashes, and is fanned into
a flame with some dry grass, which is swung to and fro to cause a
draught, the whole proceeding being to marvel which might well-nigh
eclipse the magic of my lucifer matches.

As we were now expecting a forced campaign of two days through the
wilderness, on the confines my servants had to apply their attention
to the provision of adequate supplies, as whatever we required would
have to be carried with us. To accomplish our plan satisfactorily we
were obliged to contract a treaty offensive and defensive with the
natives, and nothing would suffice for this but a mutual interchange
of blood. The circumstance led me for the first time to become a
witness of this barbarous, but truly African custom. The words of the
pledge are emphatic: “In peace we will hold together; in war we will
be a mutual defence.” Osman, one of my people who had come from
Berber, being a novice in the ranks of the Niam-niam campaigners,
became one of the most enthusiastic adherents to this pledge. In vain
I represented to him the unlawfulness of his conduct from a Mohammedan
point of view; I threatened that for the future he should be called a
heretic and an unbeliever, as bad as a Kaffir; but all to no purpose:
he became a blood-drinker by profession, and so obtained from me
whatever copper rings and beads were necessary for cementing the bonds
of the treaty.

The following day was devoted entirely to exploring the sylvan flora
around; to my heart’s desire could I now wander amidst the thickets on
the Yuroo, which would have been deemed inaccessible to any one but a
plant-hunter.

[Sidenote: HOSTILE ATTITUDE OF THE NATIVES.]

In the mould formed by the leaves which had decayed beside the stream
that parted itself into many a vein, I came across a number of drums,
stools, and other specimens of wood-work which the natives had buried
in the mud, in order to give them a permanent blackness. This too is
the way in which they prepare the reeds of which they weave their
shields and matting. The process of rapid superficial humifaction
which takes place here, is to be attributed doubtless to the
temperature being so much higher than in the temperate zones, where a
corresponding degree of decomposition would be the work of years.

Whilst botanising on the Assika we had more than once been taken by
surprise at arrows from some unknown hand having fallen very near us.
To bend down to pluck a remarkable plant, and to take up some
whistling arrow instead, is not a common experience, even in Africa.
The hostile and defiant attitude of the natives was too plainly
revealed to us, when on the 11th of March the elder of my Niam-niam
attendants, Gyabir, was shot in the muscle of his arm. Shrieking aloud
in alarm and agony, he flung down my valuable rifle, and betook
himself to flight. So dense was the thicket that I knew nothing of the
disaster till my other attendants came running up, and terror-stricken
began to shout, “They are coming! they are coming!” After this we
hurried back to the camp. I was very deeply concerned at the supposed
loss of my breech-loader, which I was accustomed to call my “cook,” so
serviceable had it been day after day, in bringing down guinea-fowl
and francolins for my table. By good fortune, however, one of the
Bongo folk had caught sight of the weapon, and soon brought it back to
me safe and sound.

Several of the Bongo bearers had also returned wounded more or less by
these insidious arrows; none of them were very severely injured, but
they came back howling in alarm. Each race seemed to have its own way
of giving vent to expressions of woe. The Niam-niam outcry for pain
that was sudden, was a sharp “Ow! ow!” but for a continued pain it
consisted of a prolonged “Akonn! akonn!” The Bongo cry was “Aoh!
aoh!”—that of the Dyoor was “Awai! awai!” For suffering of every
degree the Monbuttoo seem to have a word peculiar to themselves, and
on every occasion, however trivial, for a mere push or fall, they will
break out into a long-drawn wail of “Nangway! nangway!”

The arrows of the A-Banga and the Monbuttoo differ from those of other
tribes by being provided at the extremity of the shaft with two wings,
which are made either of hairs from the tail of the genet, or quite as
often of bits of plantain-leaves. In their points they correspond with
those of the Mittoo-Madi. The points are generally iron, but
occasionally they are made of wood which is almost as hard as iron.
The shafts consist of the firm reedy steppe-grass, and are of about
the thickness of a common lead-pencil. By a cruel refinement of skill
which might almost be styled diabolical, they contrive to place one of
the joints of the reed just below the barbs, with the design that the
arrow should break off short as soon as it has inflicted the wound,
making it a very difficult matter to extract the barbs from the flesh.
The usual method of extracting a lance-head is to take a knife and
make a sufficiently large incision in the wounded muscle for the barbs
to be withdrawn; but, in fact, the result generally is that very
jagged and troublesome wounds are inflicted.

[Sidenote: OUR WOMEN CAPTURED.]

No little excitement was stirred up in our encampment when Gyabir came
back wounded. I set to work and extracted the arrow by breaking off
the shaft, and drawing the head out on the side of the arm opposite to
that at which it had entered. All the evening, however, I was too much
occupied in my own pursuits to have time to devote to the
consultations of the Nubians. As night was drawing on there was a
fresh uproar, and the shrieks of women in alarm revealed that some
Job’s post of evil tidings had arrived. Three female slaves had gone
to the banks of the Yuroo to fetch water for the camp, and had been
discovered fatally wounded, whilst six others had disappeared and had
evidently fallen into the hands of the A-Banga. A state of war then
was manifestly declared; at once a fresh supply of cartridges was
distributed to the soldiers, the sentinel-watches were made doubly
strong, and a detachment of Farookh was told off and ordered to keep
vigilant guard all night. Water for the night was indispensable, and
in order to fetch it a number of women went down to the water-side,
carrying torches in their hands, and under the protection of a strong
escort who fired frequent shots into the bushes.

Mohammed proceeded on the following morning to distribute his force
into several companies, and as soon as it was daylight sent them
roaming over the environs, commissioned, if possible, to obtain some
hostages that might be exchanged for the missing slaves. They found,
however, that all the farmsteads had been deserted by their
inhabitants, and without accomplishing their purpose they returned to
the camp. All the huts and the plantain-groves were spared, but only
provisionally. In the event of a thorough rupture the natives in the
immediate neighbourhood had more to fear than the remoter people from
the indiscriminate revenge of the Nubians, and it was hoped that their
influence would avail to secure that the stolen women should be
restored. In fact, several of the local chiefs did come in the middle
of the day for the purpose of offering some explanation to Mohammed.
Mohammed made them clearly understand that unless by nightfall the
captives were delivered up every farm and every crop in the district
should stand in flames. The warning had its due effect; the
restitution was promptly made, and left us, free and contented to
prepare for our farther progress towards the south.

Ready enough we were next morning to turn our backs upon the
inhospitable quarters, and to postpone a regular warfare until the
date of our return, when a conflict seemed inevitable, and we should
have but a hostile reception to expect. The Bongo bearers had
meanwhile taken good care to replenish their stock of provisions by
laying hands on every granary they could, so as to be prepared for the
transit over the desert-country which lay between us and the friendly
territory of the Monbuttoo. We first passed over the Yuroo, and
shortly afterwards we crossed two other streams which flowed into it,
each full of water and with well-wooded banks. After marching on for
about two hours till we had passed the last cultivated fields of the
A-Banga, we arrived at a rivulet which watered an open steppe, and
finding some detached and spreading fig-trees, we made a halt and took
our morning meal. A very obvious sinking of the land had ensued since
our passage over the previous streams, the surface of the soil around
being once more marked by undulations.

Onward for two leagues we went over a level steppe which was all but
void of trees, occasionally passing over some sandy eminences which
had all the appearance of being the remnants of gneiss rocks
decomposed by the lapse of time. Comparatively a short period will
suffice to obliterate these remnants of rock as the formation of the
superficial iron-stone goes on. Altogether the region through which we
were passing now presented an aspect very different from the land we
were leaving behind, which had been very profusely intersected by a
very network of intricate watercourses all bounded by abundant woods.
Here the streams all irregular and undefined, twisted their ambiguous
way through marshy meadows, their banks being totally destitute of
woods; some occasional clumps of Scitaminea being the only plants to
be seen. They had to be crossed as best we could at the spots where
the herds of buffaloes had trodden down the slime into something of
solidity; but the black water was frequently as high as our necks,
whilst the mud beneath our feet seemed to have no bottom. Numerous
large frogs and a number of land crabs (_Telphusa Aubryi_) were
wallowing in the half-dry pools on the banks.

[Sidenote: A STORM.]

Especial precaution had to be taken here to protect the baggage and to
convey it across the swamps without injury. We had successfully
accomplished the passage of two of these difficult fords, when the
tokens of a gathering storm made us halt for the night upon the banks
of a third before we could venture to proceed. As expeditiously as
possible a tent was erected, into which as much baggage was stowed as
it could contain, but it was far from being spacious enough to shelter
the whole, so that for the greater part of the night the Nubians had
to protect it by piling over it great ricks of grass. An entire
deficiency of wood made it impossible to extemporize either huts or
sheds. The tumultuous confusion, the shouting and the running, the
rescuing here, the escaping there, and all amidst the crashing thunder
of the tropics, and in a torrent of rain that fell as though the very
sluices of the sky were open, conspired to form a study from which a
painter might conceive a picture of the Deluge. The meadow-stream by
which we were compelled to pass this luckless night had a direction
that was easterly, and therefore contrary to that of the rivers we had
previously passed; it flowed to join the Kahpily which may be
described as a river of the second magnitude, and which unites its
dashing flood with the more northerly of the two sources of the Welle,
the Keebaly and the Gadda.

Frightfully hungry after the disturbed vigil of the night, but yet
still fasting, we proceeded at dawn to take the mudbath which crossing
the stream involved. Some Bongo who were adepts at swimming had to go
in front and convey great masses of grass and Phrynia, which they let
down in the deepest parts to cover the sinking bottom. Going on in the
same southerly direction as on the day before, we passed along the
sunken ground, and after a while came to a brook which once again was
shaded by luxuriant gallery-woods. The path that led through the
thickets down to the main arm of the stream had been for so many feet
encroached upon by the water, which rose high in consequence of its
contracted channel, that the only means of progress was either along
the unstable trunks of fallen trees, or through puddles in which it
was hard to preserve one’s equilibrium. The narrow rift was cut out
from the entanglement of foliage, creepers, roots, and branches, as
neatly and smoothly as though it had been trimmed by a knife.

[Illustration: _Platycerium Elephantotis_, Schweinf. One-eighth of
natural size.]

Never before had I seen such wonderful masses of lichens, of which the
long grey garlands hung down in striking contrast to the deep green of
the foliage above. Just like the “barba espanola” of the forests of
the Mississippi, a gigantic form of our _Usnea florida_ here adorned
every tree. But a decoration stranger than all was afforded by the
Platycerium, which projected in couples, like elephant’s ears, from
the branches of the trees; it is one of the most characteristics of
all the gallery-flora of the region. Another species of the genus
which I had observed in other parts, the _Platycerium stemmaria_, with
its bifurcate leaves, here too finds a conspicuous place.

In these ancient woods, however, there is nothing that could more
attract the attention of the naturalist than the wonders of the world
of white ants. So assiduous are they in their industry and so
inexplicable in their work, that their proceedings might well-nigh
tempt a scientific student to take up his permanent abode near their
haunts. They construct their nests in a shape not dissimilar to
wine-casks, out of thousands and thousands of leaves, which they
cement together with a slimy clay, using a strong bough for the axis
of the whole, so that the entire fabric is suspended at a giddy
height.

This species of white ant (_Termes arborum_) had been already observed
by Smeathman in Western Africa. The partition their buildings using
wood-shavings and bits of bark, and in the same way as the forest-ants
they make several stories, and set apart nurseries and chambers for
the young.

Just as the bottle-gourd of the primeval wilderness offered to a
primitive people the first models for their earthenware, so have the
structures which the ants contrive from leaves furnished the natives
of Central Africa with the general design of all their basket-work.
Already I have referred to the corn-baskets of the Bongo as one of the
earliest illustrations of the fact that their weaving is but a
faithful copy of the building of the ants.

[Sidenote: REACHING THE MONBUTTOO FRONTIER.]

Coming next to a tract of brushwood, and then crossing two more
galleries, on which was displayed all the wild beauty of the virgin
forest, we arrived about midday at the stream which marks the boundary
of the kingdom to which we were directing our way. The passage across
this river occupied us more than half-an-hour, so intricate was the
labyrinth of the uprooted trees over which it was necessary to
clamber; and the way was made still more difficult by the thorny
interlacings of the Smilax and the obstructive jungles of the Rotang.

Whether open by chance or cleared by human hands, it was hard to
determine, but there were spaces in the gallery-woods which were
comparatively void of trees; over these was spread an abundant growth
of plantains, which had a look most perfectly in harmony with the
primitive wilderness around. Only on the fallen trees was it possible
to effect a passage amidst the confusion of the many channels; for the
network of the drooping creepers baffled every attempt to swim. At
length, however, all was accomplished, and we were greeted by a view
of the hospitable home of the Monbuttoo.

After taking some brief repose on the frontier of the new country,
followed by troops of men and women, we proceeded to the residence of
Nembey, a local chieftain under King Degberra, who governs the eastern
half of the Monbuttoo, whilst the western portion belongs to Munza, a
sovereign who rules with a still more powerful sway. The abode of
Nembey was situated on a rivulet called the Kussumbo, which rolls on
its crystal waters in a deeply-hollowed channel to join the Kahpily.
Crossing the stream, we encamped upon some slightly undulated ground,
encompassed by low bushes, where we erected some grass-huts that
should be perfectly rain-proof. Immediately upon our arrival, Nembey
accompanied by a number of his wives, paid me a visit in my tent, and
brought me a present of poultry.

Mohammed Aboo Sammat was an old friend and ally of the western king
Munza, who was never otherwise than upon a footing of war with his
neighbor and rival Degberra. Little therefore could Mohammed have
expected in the way of welcome or hospitable reception from the king
of the Eastern Monbuttoo, if it had not chanced that his subordinate
officer had discovered the advantageous ivory trade which might be
opened with the strangers. This is the explanation which may be
offered of the courtesy of our reception, and which accounts for the
neighborhood all round being free from any peril as far as we were
concerned.

The woods on the Kussumbo I found to be an inexhaustible source of
botanical treasure. Conspicuous amongst many other examples of the
characteristic vegetation were the Raphia, the Elias, the bread-fruit
or Artocarpus, and a species of Trumpet-tree (_Cecropia_) which was
the first representative of the American genus that I had found in the
continent of Africa. The oil-palm (_Elias_) is here at the extreme
northern limit to which cultivation has ever transferred it, as it is
still utterly unknown in all the districts of the Nile. Not until we
crossed the Welle did we find it planted out in groves, and to judge
from appearances it had only been planted even there for purposes of
the experiment.

Upon the day following our arrival at the residence of Nembey, I
ventured out without any apprehension of harm into the semi-cultivated
plantain-grounds which ran for some miles along the river-banks,
passing as I went along series of farms and fields that were under
tillage, everywhere observing the women and children sitting in front
of their neatly-kept huts and attending to their household duties.

[Sidenote: AN ALARM.]

The sun was just sinking on the horizon, and we were still enveloped
in the thickets shrouded in masses of manioc and plantains, when the
report of firearms, volley after volley, coming from the camp, took us
by surprise, and induced us without delay to hurry back; such repeated
discharges, we could not help suspecting, must too surely betoken some
aggression on the part of the natives. We loaded our pieces, and
trying to follow the direction of the sound, we started off on our
return, but for a time we wandered vaguely about, hardly knowing how
to get free of the plantations; we at length managed to reach the
villages, from which the way was quite direct. Together with ourselves
streamed on a crowd of the residents, who came hurrying out, equipped
with their shields and lances, or with their bows and arrows. As we
approached the farms we heard the beating of the signal drums, and
everywhere at the doors of the huts we saw the women and children, all
eagerly bringing from the interior the necessary arms for their
husbands and fathers, who were waiting impatiently without. Not
knowing whether we were friends or foes, we pushed on all together
along the road. Helpless enough I felt myself, as burdened with my
heavy boots I tottered over the smooth tree-trunks which had been
thrown across the depth of the Kussumbo; behind and before were the
excited people, equipped with arms, as frantic as wild Indians, and
very naturally the thought rose to my mind, how completely, if they
chose, I was within their power.

It did not take long to get through the woodlands, and then again we
were out upon the open. One glance at the camps before us revealed the
mystery: the Nubians with their swarthy troops of bearers had been
doubled in number by the arrival of another company of merchant-people
from Khartoum, and in honor of the meeting the usual salvoes had been
fired. The new comers were the party belonging to Tuhamy, who was an
upper secretary in the divan of the Governor-General, by whose
authority I was empowered to claim the hospitality of all the Seribas.
To Mohammed’s soldiers the unlooked-for arrival of a number of their
countrymen was a welcome occurrence which they celebrated as a holiday
but to Mohammed himself the chance meeting was a vexation, from which
ultimately, as he foresaw, various unpleasantnesses arose. The
territories of Tuhamy’s people were situated on the lower Rohl, their
head Seriba is at a spot named Ronga, where they had been established
some years previously by the French adventurer, Malzac. They had come
directly by the way through the districts of the Mittoo and the Madi;
and at the Diamvonoo, (where I had made so large a collection of the
skulls of the chimpanzees) they had had such a vigorous conflict with
the Niam-niam that for two days they were obliged to defend themselves
behind an extemporized abattis against the hostilities of Wando, and
had not escaped without some loss of life on their side. Suspecting no
mischief, they had arrived at the place just at the moment that our
caravan had hurried away to escape the general conflict that seemed
imminent, and accordingly, they had found the natives all up in arms
and ready for immediate action.

[Sidenote: VISIT TO BONGWA.]

At midnight a heavy rain set in, which lasted till the morning; and in
the uncertainty as to what the weather would be, our departure was
delayed long beyond the ordinary hour and we were even at last obliged
to start in a thick and drizzling mist. Despite the wet, Tuhamy’s
party had gone on in the early morning. We were all anxious about
keeping our powder dry; but, for my part, I must own I was more
concerned about the safety of my collection, which had been gathered
and preserved with so much trouble. A halt was made for an hour in one
of the farmsteads on our way and the large open sheds belonging to the
local superintendent were of infinite service in providing immediate
shelter for the baggage. Our route crossed four streams, all flowing
to the south, after which we arrived at the Mazoroody, on the banks of
which the line of farms belonging to Bongwa extended a considerable
way. Bongwa was a chieftain subject to pay tribute equally to Munza
and to Degberra, as his possessions were contiguous to those of both
these rival kings. We crossed the river, which was approached by an
extensive steppe, which terminated in a declivity that led us
downwards for well-nigh 200 feet, and then halting, we proceeded to
erect our camp by constructing a number of huts in the best way we
could out of the masses of sodden grass.

[Illustration: Bongwa’s Wife.]

Accompanied by his wife, Bongwa paid us a visit to camp, and allowed
me the unusual honor of taking a sketch both of himself and his better
half. The old lady took her seat upon a Monbuttoo bench, wearing
nothing else than the singular band, like a saddle-girth, across her
lap, in the general fashion of all the women of the country. Like
nearly all her race, she had a skin several shades lighter than her
husband’s, being something of the color of half-roasted coffee. She
exhibited singular tattooing, which appeared to consist of two
distinct characters. One of these ran in lines over the shoulders and
bosom, just where our ladies wear their lace collars; it was made of a
number of points pricked in with a needle, and forming a pattern
terminating on the shoulders and breast in large crosses. The other
was a pattern traced over the whole stomach, standing out in such
relief that I presume it must have been done by a hot iron; it
consisted of figures set in a square frames, and looked somewhat like
the tracery which is sculptured on cornices and old arches. Bodkins of
ivory projected from her towering chignon, which was surmounted by a
plate as large as a dollar, fastened on by a comb with five teeth
manufactured of porcupine-quills.

[Sidenote: BONGWA’S WIFE.]

Since Madame Bongwa only intended to pay me a short visit, she did not
appear _en grande tenue_; the picture, therefore, necessarily failed
in the black figures which, for full dress were painted on her ample
flanks, and which would have given a double interest to the likeness.
As a token of my recognition of the steadiness with which she sat
during my artistic labors, I permitted her (and this was the greatest
the privilege I could afford any of the natives) to put her fingers
through my hair, which to her eye was so astonishingly long and sleek.

The first hours of the following morning were spent in making
purchases from the natives of a supply of yams and sweet-potatoes; the
day, consequently, was somewhat advanced before we could make a start.
The strips of grassland, void of trees, into which the numerous
rivulets parcel out the district, were here peculiarly narrow; in the
course of a single league, we passed over no less than three different
streams, and then came to another, the Bumba, which we had to go over
twice. Whenever we came to thickets, the Raphia or wine-palm was sure
to be prominent, and put every other plant into the shade. Its noble
branches are used by the Monbuttoo for making their stools and the
seats which they erect upon the roofs of their huts.

A very populous district was soon reached, known as the district of
Eddeedy, who being within Munza’s kingdom was tributary to Izingerria,
Munza’s viceroy and brother. At this spot, we came again into contact
with the party of Tuhamy, which had encamped upon the river Bumba. We
had for so long been unaccustomed to the sight that the prospect of
grazing cattle came upon us almost as a surprise. At first we were
under the impression that Tuhamy’s people must have brought the oxen
with them, but the manifest deviation of the beasts from the Dinka
type set us to inquire whence they had come. They were of a thicker
and shorter build than those we had seen, having a different formation
of the skull and very prominent humps. We were informed that they had
been a present from King Munza to Eddeedy. Munza himself had some
years previously received a large herd of them from the powerful ruler
of some people in the south-east, with whom he had concluded an
amicable alliance. The tribe who were thus referred to were called by
my interpreter the Maogoo, and I imagined that through this word I
could get some perception of what Sir Samuel Baker meant when he spoke
of the land beyond Lake Mwootan as Ulegga, and its inhabitants as the
Malegga.

Taking now a more southerly direction, the road led us over three
different streams, which flowed to the west to join the Bumba. On the
fourth stream from the Bumba was situated the mbanga of Izingerria. It
was somewhat late in the afternoon before we made our imposing
entrance, and then we found both sides of the roadway lined with
crowds of astonished folks who had come to gaze at our troop. The
officials appeared in full state, their hats adorned with waving
plumes: they had come attended by their shield-bearers, and had
ordered their indispensable benches to be brought with them, that they
might receive us at their ease and observe the unusual spectacle we
presented with as much convenience as possible.

[Illustration: ENTRY TO IZINGERRIA’S MBANGA.]

We took up our encampment on the steppe just beyond the stream which
divided us from the circle of huts, which was arranged around an open
area, and allotted to the wives and soldiers of the prince. The plots
that had been cleared near the little river were for the most part
planted with sugar-canes. The canes grew to the size of a man’s arm,
but I think they were generally very woody and less soft in their
texture than those which grew in Egypt. Except for chewing, the
natives seem to have no object in growing them, and have no notion of
expressing or boiling the sap, for otherwise, they would not have been
so surprised as they were at the bits of loaf-sugar which we gave them
by way of putting their experience to the test. The plants thrive very
well in the plantations, which are amply irrigated by the numerous
ducts of the various streams, and, indeed, they grow in a half-wild
condition. Had the natives only a better disposition for industry and
a freer scope for traffic, there is no estimating what might be the
value of the production which is here so bountifully bestowed.

[Sidenote: A VISIT TO IZINGERRIA.]

In company with Mohammed I visited Izingerria in his dwelling in the
later hours of the evening, and found him sitting on his bench in the
open space, surrounded by about a dozen of his satraps. Having been
made acquainted with the custom of the country that all officials, all
heads of families, and indeed all persons of any distinction, whenever
they pay a visit, take with them their slaves to carry their benches,
because it is considered unseemly to sit, like Turks or Arabs, upon
the ground, I gave orders that some of my people should, on these
occasions, invariably accompany me and carry my cane chair. We took
our seats opposite Izingerria, and by the assistance of one of the
natives, who could talk to my Niam-niam interpreter, I contrived to
keep up, despite the labor of a double translation, some mutual
interchange of thought till the night was far advanced. Of hospitable
entertainment there was not a word; perhaps it was considered
inconsistent with the dignity of a formal interview, but there was not
even the offer of the usually elusive beer. The consumption of
tobacco, however, was quite unrestrained. I could not help observing,
without being quite able to account for the circumstance, that my
cigars did not in the least appear to attract any notice on the part
of the natives, although they were accustomed to smoke their tobacco
exclusively through pipes, and were as entirely unacquainted either
with the habits of chewing tobacco or of taking snuff as any other of
the African negroes who have not been contaminated in these respects
by intercourse with Mohammedans and Christians.

The Monbuttoo use pipes of a primitive, but really of a very
serviceable description, which they make from the mid-rib of a
plantain-leaf. The upper classes, however, not unfrequently have a
metal tube, some five feet long, made by their smiths. The lower
extremity of the pipe is plugged up, and an opening is made in the
side near the end, into which is inserted a plantain-leaf, twisted up
and filled with tobacco. This extemporised bowl is changed as often as
requisite, sometimes every few minutes, by the slaves who are kept in
attendance. The only tobacco which is known here is the Virginian (_N.
tabacum_, L.). With much relish I smoked a pipe of this construction,
which was altogether a novelty to me, and I found that it was a
contrivance that modified the rankness of the tobacco almost as
perfectly as if it had been inhaled through the water-reservoir of a
narghileh.

At length the attainment of my cherished hopes seemed close at hand.
The prospect was held out that on the 19th of March we might expect to
arrive at the Welle. The way to the river led us due south, and we
went onwards through almost uninterrupted groves of plantains, from
which the huts, constructed of bark and rotang very skilfully sewn
together, ever and again peeped out. A march of scarcely two leagues
brought us to the bank of the noble river, which rolled its deep dark
flood majestically to the west, in its general aspect suggesting a
resemblance to the Blue Nile. For me it was a thrilling moment that
can never fade from my memory. My sensations must have been like Mungo
Park’s on the 20th of July, 1796, when for the first time he planted
his foot upon the shore of the mysterious Niger, and answered once for
all the great geographical question of his day—as to whether its
waters rolled to the east or to the west.

[Sidenote: THE WELLE.]

Here, then, I was upon the very bank of the river, attesting the
western flow of the water, about which the contradictions and
inconsistencies of the Nubians had kept up my unflagging interest ever
since we set out from Khartoum. Whoever has any acquaintance with the
indistinctness that ever attaches to the statements of those who would
attempt to describe in Arabic the up-current of the down-current of a
river will readily comprehend the eagerness with which I yearned to
catch the first glance of the waters of which the rippling sound, as
they washed their stony banks, came through the bushes to my a
strained and listening ear. If the river should flow to the east, why
then it solved the problem, hitherto inexplicable, of the fulness of
the water in Lake Mwootan; but if, as was far more likely, it should
go towards the west, then beyond a doubt it was independent altogether
of the Nile system. A moment more and the question was set at rest.
Westerly was the direction of the stream, which consequently did not
belong to the Nile at all; it was in all likelihood not less than 180
miles distant from the most western coast of Lake Mwootan, and at the
numerous rapids which are formed in its upper course it rises almost
to the level of the lake, even if it does not attain a still higher
altitude.[50]

Very similar as I have said it looked in some respects to the Blue
Nile at Khartoum, the Welle had here a breadth of 800 feet, and at
this period of the year, when its waters were at their lowest, it had
a depth varying from twelve to fifteen feet. The banks, like the
“guefs” of the Nile, rose about twenty feet above the level of the
stream and appeared to consist almost exclusively of alluvial clay and
some layers of blended sand and mica; but as far as I could
investigate the exposed face of the river-wall, I could see neither
pebbles nor drift, and only occasionally were the scanty remains of
shells to be detected.

Here, as well as on the upper part of the main stream, named the
Keebaly, which we subsequently crossed, no inundation of the country
seems ever to occur, although the land sank with rather a sudden fall
for 100 feet down to the wood-encircled bank of the river.

There was nothing remarkable about the rate at which the water flowed:
on the northern bank it passed at about fifty-five or sixty feet a
minute; so that the volume of water that rolled by would be about
10,000 cubic feet a second, but supposing the rate of the stream to be
invariable, this volume would be nearly doubled at the season when the
river was at its fullest height. The Welle is formed about twelve
miles above this spot by the union of the Gadda and the Keebaly. About
three weeks later (on the 13th of April) the Gadda was about 155 feet
wide and two to three feet deep, whilst the Keebaly, which is the main
stream, was 325 wide and at least twelve feet deep. Of the two streams
just above the junction, the rate of flow was fifty-seven feet and
seventy-five feet respectively. Fourteen miles above its point of
confluence with the Gadda, the Keebaly forms a series of rapids
flowing over innumerable crags of gneiss, making a labyrinth of little
islands which are known as Kissangah, and which part the stream into
many minor channels that after they are re-united reach across in a
distance of 1000 to 1200 feet from shore to shore.

I made all the inquiries I possibly could about the condition and
fluctuations of the river from the interpreters who were attached to
the expedition, and ascertained that the water was actually at this
date at its lowest level. The first an indication that I had of any
rise or increase in the stream was when I crossed it again a little
higher up, towards the east, in the middle of April; and to judge from
what was pointed out to me then on the river-banks, I should
conjecture that the period of the highest water would be about two
months later.

The Welle had all the tokens of being a mountain stream of which the
source was at no remote distance, and to a certainty was not in a
latitude much to the south of that of the spot where we were crossing.
The colour of the flood at this time of the year corresponded very
remarkably with the cloudy waters of the Bahr-el-Azrek, and it is
probable that when it is at its height it has that look of
coffee-and-milk which the river presents at Khartoom. Moreover, there
is an additional proof indicating that the river has its origin in
some mountain region at no great distance, which is furnished by the
fact of so many considerable streams (such as the Keebaly, the Gadda,
the Kahpilly, the Nomayo, and the Nalobey) all having their channels
uniting in what is comparatively a very limited area. The result of
all my varied inquiries seemed to demonstrate most satisfactorily that
to the south-west of Munza’s residence the land takes a decided rise;
and the existence of certain detached groups of hills, which according
to the declarations of the natives are at no very great distance,
serves to confirm my belief as to the orographical character of the
country. The hills and isolated mountains to which I refer would be, I
imagine, none other than the western fringe of the “Blue Mountains,”
which Baker observed from the farther side of Lake Mwootan (the Albert
Nyanza), and of which (as he saw them on the north-western confines of
the lake), he reckoned that the height must be 8000 feet.

From this spot also the position of the abodes of the tribe of the
Maogoo was pointed out to me, and it lay between the S.E. and E.S.E.
It was to me a very remarkable thing how accurately the natives of
Africa, by the indication of the finger, would point to any particular
locality; they were also equally skilful in telling the hour of the
day by the height of the sun, and I rarely detected an error of much
more than half an hour in their representations. In wide open plains
like the deserts of Nubia, where the journeys are made for many miles
consecutively without the least variation in direction, the precision
of their estimate reaches such singular correctness, that if a lance
is laid upon the ground the path to which it points will lead, with
scarcely a hair’s-breadth deviation, to the destination required, and
the road thus indicated will accord perfectly with any direct route
that may be marked upon the map. Many years ago Bruce of Kinnaird
alluded to a circumstance of this kind in his travels through the
Nubian desert; and during my wanderings between the Nile and the Red
Sea I had various opportunities of satisfying myself of the truth of
what he states.

Taking into calculation the geographical configuration of this part of
Africa, and relying not so much upon the representations of previous
European travellers as upon the information obtained along the wide
tract that extends from Lake Tsad to Kordofan and south of that line,
it may be asserted that the Welle belongs to the system of the Shary.
That the Welle has any connection with the Gazelle, and so ultimately
with the Nile, is contradicted not merely by the general belief, but
by the authenticated statements of the inhabitants who dwell upon its
borders; and more than this, it is totally inconsistent with the fact
that the Welle is a stream vastly greater than the Gazelle in the
volume of its waters; for while both alike were at their lowest ebb on
the 27th of April, 1863, Petherick has placed it upon record that the
Gazelle had but 3042 cubic feet of water to roll on, in comparison to
10,000 feet, which was the volume, every second, of the Welle.

Perhaps I may seem to lay greater stress upon the information which I
gained by my inquiries, than a rigorous critic, who knows what an
ambiguous country I was traversing, may be inclined to think is fair.
But let me invite his attention to the following statement. Although
the entire eastern portion of the Niam-niam country from Mofio to
Kanna has been repeatedly visited by companies from Khartoom, and I
have been repeatedly brought into contact with those who have taken
part in the expeditions, I have never come across but one single
individual who has represented that there is connection anywhere
between the Welle and the Gazelle; and in addition to this, the
Monbuttoo and the Niam-niam, with an agreement that is undeviating,
all represent that the Welle holds on its course to the N.E. as far as
they could follow it for days and days together, till it widens so
vastly that the trees on its banks are not visible, and that at last
there is nothing but water and sky. This representation would imply
that the river issues in some inland lake. They have, moreover, their
tales to tell of the inhabitants of the country on the lower part of
the river, as to how they dress in white, and like the Nubians kneel
upon the ground and say their prayers. Clearly, therefore, these
residents are Mohammedans, and the direction and the distance of their
abode would seem to corroborate an impression that they must be the
inhabitants of some southern parts of Baghirmy.

As I have spoken of the Welle in comparison with the Gazelle, I may
now be permitted to bring it into contrast with the Shary, so far at
least as the lower course of this river has been explored. According
to the testimony of Major Denham, who made his observations on the
24th of June, 1824, the width of the Shary at its mouth was about half
a mile, while its stream had a velocity of something under three miles
an hour. This would indicate a stream three times as strong as that of
the Welle, and if the average depth of the waters as they flow into
Lake Tsad be reckoned at ten feet it would give a volume of 85,000
cubic feet a second, whereas at the very highest reckoning the volume
of the Welle is not above 20,000 cubic feet.

On the other hand the eastern main branch of the Shary at Mele, where
it was measured by Barth on the 18th of March, 1852, had a breadth of
1800 feet, and in mid-channel it had a depth of fifteen feet, while it
was specially recorded as rolling on with a velocity of some three
miles an hour, which, however, in a way that we should not have
expected, Barth says did not make him reckon the stream as
particularly strong.

That the Shary, so early as the month of March, should show an
increase in the mass of its waters, would appear to indicate that
according to theory it must be augmented by some other rivers coming
from more southern latitudes than the Welle. It is a positive fact
that there are no other streams of the least account that could
possibly flow into it from the arid steppes of Darfoor and Wadai on
the north; the land there has no springs, and consumes for itself
whatever it receives from the clouds above. If then the Welle flows
neither into the Gazelle nor yet into the Shary, it might perhaps be
asked whether it is not a tributary to the ample waters of the Benue,
which Barth found at Yola, on the 18th of July, 1851, to be 1200 feet
in width, having an average depth of 11 feet, and a periodic change of
50 feet between the highest and lowest level of its stream; but then
there would still remain the further question as to what, in that
case, must be the source of the Shary, and whence it comes; and this
is a question that decides for itself the full value of the
counter-evidence.

It is a matter of especial interest to recollect that Barth would
appear already to have announced the existence of the Welle under the
name of the river of Kubanda. The people that he had about him were
natives of Darfoor, who had been accustomed to carry on their
expeditions for plunder ever since the year 1834. In fact he assigns
the position of the river of Kubanda to the latitude of 3° N., and
affixes a note to his account of it stating that “a tree, called the
Kumba, is said to grow upon its banks.” Now, Kumba is the Niam-niam
for the abundant Malaghetta pepper (_Xylopia æthiopica_), which has
communicated its name to the Pepper Coast, and in the middle ages was
a spice much valued and known as Habb-el-Selim (Selim’s grains), and
had probably been brought into the market by the people of Morocco,
long before black pepper was known at all. I satisfied myself that at
present this pepper is known to the Foorians as a product of the
distant south.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO CANOES.]

The transport of the caravan across the great river was by no means an
easy matter; by the aid, however, of the ferrymen whom Munza had
provided, it was accomplished so vigorously that in the course of
three hours our last man had been carried over. The passage was
effected by large canoes which were hewn out of a single trunk of a
tree, and which, alike in shape and solidity, were superior to what we
had hitherto seen. Some of them were not less than thirty feet long
and four feet broad, and sufficiently spacious to convey both horses
and bullocks. So ample are their dimensions that there is no risk of
their being upset, nor did they lurch in the least degree as we got
into them. They were made with both ends running horizontally out into
a beak, and the border lines were ornamented with carved figures. As
the current was not very strong, it was found sufficient to have two
boatmen, who squatted down at each extremity of the canoe; their
paddles were about five feet long, and tapered down towards the end in
the shape of a narrow shovel, and to say the truth, the boatmen used
them very much in shovel-fashion.

I had seen the teak canoes on the Red Sea which are called “Hoory” in
Arabic, and are of a build imported from India, and many of the canoes
which are in use at Suakim and Djidda, but none of these were
comparable, either with respect to size or elegance, with the canoes
of the Monbuttoo. It is remarkable that on the lower course of the
Shary there are no ferry-boats in use except such as are made out of a
number of planks fitted and fastened together; the conclusion from
this would appear to be obvious: either that there are no fine trees
to be felled in that country, similar to those on the borders of the
Welle, or that between the source and mouth of the Shary there are
impediments to navigation which are insuperable. In the distance of
about 1000 miles to Lake Tsad from the point of our passage, the
stream would have fallen more than 1450 feet.

Our encampment was formed about half-a-league to the south of the
river; it was encircled by the dwellings of the Monbuttoo, who had
spread themselves over the declivity of a steep woody ravine. The
groves in this locality yielded me every day fresh trophies in my
raids upon the vegetable domains of Nature, whilst at nightfall the
natives came trooping in and enlisted my curious interest. Ambassadors
deputed by King Munza came to bring me his official recognition, and
were charged at the same time to render to him what information they
could about the doings and intentions of the wonderful stranger. As
the messengers sent by the king were sufficiently versed in the Zandey
dialect to hold conversation in it, I was enabled to make them
understand the object of my visit to their country, and to all
appearances they were thoroughly satisfied by my explanation.

We were still at a little distance from the point which we had
determined must be the limit of our progress for this year; we had,
however, but one day’s rest to make, and then we should proceed to
make our entry into Munza’s quarters. A fresh world of novelty seemed
to be awaiting us in this remote region, the very kernel of the
continent, equally distant from the Indian Ocean and from the
Atlantic. Everything was new. The bright and clear complexion of the
natives, their singular garb, their artistic furniture, the
convenience of their orderly houses, and finally, the savage etiquette
of the pompous court, all struck me with fresh surprise and ever
renewed the feeling of astonishment. There was, moreover, an
exuberance of strange and unexpected vegetation; whilst plantations,
sugar-canes, and oil-palms were everywhere to be seen in plentiful
luxuriance. Truly, I now found myself in the heart of Africa,
realising to the letter the fascinating dreams of my early youth.

[Sidenote: CHARMS OF THE MONBUTTOO LAND.]

Nothing could be more charming than that last day’s march which
brought us to the limit of our wanderings. The twelve miles which led
to Munza’s palace were miles enriched by such beauty as might be
worthy of Paradise. They left an impression upon my memory which can
never fade. The plantain-groves harmonised so perfectly with the
clustering oil-palms that nothing could surpass the perfection of the
scene; whilst the ferns that adorned the countless stems in the
background of the landscape enhanced the charms of the tropical
groves. A fresh and invigorating atmosphere contributed to the
enjoyment of it all, refreshing water and grateful shade being never
far away. In front of the native dwellings towered the splendid figs,
of which the spreading crowns defied the passage of the burning sun.
Anon, we passed amidst jungles of Raphia, alongside brooks crammed
full of reeds, or through galleries where the Pandanus thrived, the
road taking us uphill and downhill in alternate undulation. No less
than twelve of these brooklets did we pass upon our way, some lying in
depressions of one hundred feet, and some sunk as much as two hundred
feet below the summits of their bounding walls of verdant vegetation,
and there were two upheaved and rounded hills of gneiss, rising to an
altitude of some 300 feet, along the flanks of which we wound our
path. On either hand there was an almost unbroken series of the
idyllic homes of the people, who hurried to their gates, and offered
us the choicest products of their happy clime.

Beside the streamlet which was last but one of all we passed, we made
our final halt in the shadow of a large assembly-ground that we might
take our repast of plantains and baked manioc. The crowds of bearers
made their camp around the stem of a colossal _Cordia abyssinica_
which stood upon the open space in front of the abode of the local
chief, and reminded me of the Abyssinian villages, where this tree is
specially cultivated. Von Beuermann has mentioned that he observed
this tree in Kanem rendering the same service as the lindens of the
German villages, and forming a cool and shady resort to which the
residents might betake themselves for recreation. These trees, with
their goodly coronets of spreading foliage, are the survivors from
generations that are gone, and form a comely ornament in well-nigh all
the villages of the Monbuttoo.

And then, at last, conspicuous amidst the massy depths of green, we
espied the palace of the king. We had reached a broad valley, circled
by plantations, and shadowed by some gigantic trees which had survived
the decay of the ancient wilderness; through the lowest part meandered
a transparent brook. We did not descend into the hollow, but halting
on the hither side we chose a station clear of trees, and proceeded
without delay to fix our camp. We enjoyed a view in front of a sloping
area, void of grass, enlivened with an endless multiplicity of huts,
of which the roofs of some were like ordinary sheds, and those of
others of a conical form. And there, surmounting all, with extensive
courts broad and imposing, unlike anything we had seen since we left
the edifices of Cairo, upreared itself the spacious pile of King
Munza’s dwelling.

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL AT KING MUNZA’S PALACE.]

The order for the halt was no sooner given than the bearers set about
their wonted work, and labouring with their knives and hatchets soon
procured from the jungles by the brook the supply of material
sufficient for our architectural needs. Rapidly as ever our encampment
was reared: hardly an hour elapsed before our place of sojourn was in
order, with a gorgeous landscape opening in its front, and this time
in view of the royal abode of an African monarch. My own tent, which
began to exhibit only too plainly the tokens of being somewhat
weather-beaten by repeated exposure, was located in the very midst of
the lines of our grass-huts: not now was it erected, as often it had
been, upon the bare rock of a desolate wilderness, but in the centre
of a scene of surpassing beauty: for the first time I had it decorated
with my flag, which waved proudly above it in honour of our arrival at
the court of so distinguished and powerful a prince.

The natives lost no time in crowding in and endeavouring to obtain an
interview. But it suited my inclination to withdraw myself for a time.
I remained in the retirement of my tent simply because I was weary of
these interviews, which always necessitated my permitting either my
head to be handled, in order to convince them that the long straight
hair was really my own, or my bosom (like Wallenstein’s when he
fronted his murderers) to be bared that they might admire its
whiteness. I was thus induced to remain under shelter, and meanwhile
the Monbuttoo magnates waited patiently or impatiently without; they
had brought their benches, which they placed close to my quarters, but
I continued obstinate in my determination to be undisturbed, resolved
to reserve all my strength and energy for the following day, when I
should have to exhibit the marvel of my existence before King Munza
himself.


     FOOTNOTES:

     [47] ‘Troglodytes Schweinfurthii Gigl. in Studii
     Craniologici sui Cimpanze.’ Genova, 1872.

     [48] Reichert’s and Du Bois Raymond’s ‘Archiv.’ Berlin,
     1872.

     [49] The A-Madi must not be confounded with the Madi of the
     Mittoo, nor with the Madi south of Gondokoro. In the native
     dialect “a” is only a plural form: _e.g._, “ango” means a
     dog; “a-ango,” dogs.

     [50] The measurements are given in the sketch-map in Vol.
     II.


                             END OF VOL. I.




                                LONDON:
                  PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS,
                   STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.




                                 INDEX.

  A-BANGA, tribe of, i. 522;
    entertaining, i. 531;
    their arrows, i. 534;
    trophy of their heads, ii. 176, 178;
    great body of, ii. 180.

  Aboo Guroon, i. 185;
    repulsed by Tikkiboh, ii. 95;
    visit to, ii. 287;
    his death, ii. 308.

  Aboo Maaref, i. 242.

  Aboo Odfa, a natural monument, i. 37.

  Aboo Sammat, i. 99;
    his liberality, i. 333, 417;
    his hospitality, i. 351;
    his speech, i. 397;
    his territory, i. 465;
    wounded, ii. 171;
    present from, ii. 277;
    attacked, ii. 285.

  Abrey (cold cup), i. 373.

  Acacin, _spirocarpa_, i. 59;
    _verugata_, i. 76;
    _fistula_, i. 97.

  _Adenia venenata_, i. 135.

  Adimokoo the Akka, ii. 127;
    his war-dance, ii. 129.

  Agar, i. 225.

  Ahmed, i. 434;
    his death, ii. 230.

  Ahmed Aga, ii. 357, 360, 369.

  Akka, their country, ii. 84;
    their height, complexion, and hair, ii. 140;
    appearance, ii. 141;
    their hands, skull, and eyes, ii. 142;
    ears and lips, ii. 143;
    dialect, ii. 144;
    their treatment by the Monbuttoo, ii. 145.

  _Albizzia serico-cephalus_, i. 144.

  Algiers, ii. 435.

  Allagabo the Bongo, ii. 205, 460, 487.

  Aloe, not found in Egypt, i. 105;
    with green blossom, ii. 203.

  Alwaj district, i. 171.

  Ambatch (Herminiera), i. 61;
    canoes, i. 77.

  Amomum, i. 468.

  Analogy of rivers, i. 113.

  Anonaceæ, i. 497.

  _Anona Senegalensis_, i. 222.

  Antelopes: _megaloceras_, i. 63;
    _madoqua_, i. 188, 243; ii. 464;
    _caama_, i. 195, 427;
    _leucotis_, i. 196, 241, 457; ii. 233, 445;
    _leucophæa_, i. 216;
    _nigra_, i. 242;
    _grimmia_, i. 243;
    _arundinacea_, ii. 446;
    _ellipsiprymna_, i. 338;
    _oreas_, i. 359, ii. 248;
    antelope chased by hyæna, ii. 205.

  Ant-hills, i. 349; ii. 196.

  Anthocleista, i. 470.

  Antinori, Marquis, i. 185; ii. 80.

  Ants, invasion of, ii. 227.

  Apostrophe to the Nile, i. 187.

  Arab nicknames, i. 82.

  Arabs, true, i. 28.

  Arash Kol, Mt., i. 57.

  Arbab, marriage of, i. 40.

  Arslan, my sheep dog, i. 56;
    stung by bees, i. 74;
    his death, i. 217.

  Assika, the river, ii. 183.

  Atoborroo, i. 457.

  Awoory, i. 377.


  BABUCKUR, raid on, ii. 222;
    persecution of, ii. 257;
    their women, ii. 258;
    value as slaves, ii. 419.

  Baginze, Mt., ii. 212;
    its position, ii. 213;
    vegetation, ii. 214.

  Baggara, i. 66;
    Rizegat, ii. 341, 395.

  Bahr-el-Arab, its mouth, i. 122;
    identity with the Bahr-el-Homr, ii. 370;
    its importance, ii. 392.

  Bahr-el-Ghazal, compared to the Havel, i. 115;
    its importance, i. 123, 125.
    (_Vide_ Gazelle.)

  Bahr-el-Kooroo, ii. 353.

  Baker, Sir Samuel: encounter with natives, i. 30;
    his opinion of soil by the White Nile, i. 56;
    suppression of slave expedition from Fashoda, i. 83;
    hindered at the grass barrier, i. 106;
    loss of pack-ass, i. 135;
    praise of Lepidosiren, i. 136;
    living on Melochia, ii. 197;
    book of travels, i. 320; ii. 198;
    condemns eleusine, i. 492;
    statement about Lake Mwootan, ii. 162;
    peremptory measures, ii. 410, 429;
    indignation against, ii. 485.

  _Balæniceps rex_, i. 117; ii. 472.

  Bamboos (_bambusa_), i. 183;
    in blossom, i. 237;
    jungles, ii. 251, 253.

  Bastard-gemsbock, i. 216.

  Beads, i. 203, 502; ii. 235.

  Beans, i. 249; ii. 254.

  Bear-baboons, i. 198.

  Bearers, desertion of, i. 184;
    feeding them, i. 461, 475;
    consideration shown to them, i. 477;
    an exhausted bearer, i. 433;
    three of them murdered, ii. 220.

  Bedouins, town, i. 28.

  Beery, the river, ii. 377.

  Bees: attacked by a swarm, i. 73;
    suffering from their stings, i. 75.

  Bees’ wax, ii. 167.

  Behnky, name for Niam-niam chieftains, ii. 22.

  Bellanda, i. 200.

  Berber, i. 38;
    return to, ii. 485.

  Bet-el-Gellahba, ii. 394.

  Bishareen, i. 28;
    their sheep and goats, i. 32;
    ugliness of the women, i. 36.

  Blessing, the missionary, ii. 482.

  Blippo (_Gardenia malleifera_), i. 440;
    used by Monbuttoo, ii. 104.

  Boar, wild, i. 363.

  Bodumoh, the river, ii. 202.

  BONGO: festival of, i. 183;
    their country, i. 257;
    vassalage, i. 259;
    population, i. 260;
    complexion, i. 261;
    stature, i. 263;
    skull and hair, i. 264;
    agriculture, i. 266;
    smoking, i. 269;
    goats, i. 270;
    dogs, i. 271;
    hunting, i. 272;
    money, i. 279;
    ornaments, i. 279;
    graves, i. 285, 303;
    music, i. 287;
    weapons, i. 299;
    games, i. 300;
    fear of ghosts, i. 305;
    belief in witches, i. 307;
    singing, i. 309;
    dialect, i. 311;
    sauces, i. 462;
    concert, ii. 404;
    value as slaves, ii. 419;
    chief, executed, ii. 457.

  Bongwa, the chieftain, i. 543;
    his wife, i. 544;
    return to, ii. 153.

  Boroo (or borru), ii. 32, 181.

  “Bride of the Fish,” i. 16.

  Bruce, the traveller, i. 113.

  Buffalo, attack of a wild, i. 64;
    frantic herd of them, i. 70;
    African species, i. 193;
    alarmed by, ii. 259;
    herd of them, ii. 265;
    calf killed, ii. 347.

  Bunza, son of Munza, ii. 57.

  Bushbock killed, ii. 255.

  Bushmen, ii. 139.

  Butterflies, i. 197.

  Butter tree, i. 220.


  CALAMUS, hedge of, i. 468.

  Calotropis, ii. 343.

  Cannibalism: traces of, i. 517;
    amongst Niam-niam, ii. 17, 224;
    amongst Monbuttoo, ii. 93.

  Caraïb (_Bucerosia_), i. 22.

  Caroob, i. 191.

  Carpodiuus, i. 192.

  Cat, wild (_Felis Maniculata_), i. 320.

  Cattle-diseases, ii. 280.

  Cattle-raids on Dinka, i. 227; ii. 465.

  Caves of Kulongo, i. 234.

  Charcoal, ignorance of, i. 208.

  Chimpanzees: abundance in Wando’s district, i. 497, 518;
    mode of catching, i. 521.

  Chinese hand-barrows, ii. 307.

  Christianity and slave-trade, ii. 432.

  Christ’s thorn (_Zizyphus Baclei_), i. 360.

  Cogyvor, or wizards, i. 331.

  Cola-nut, ii. 49.

  Coldest day, ii. 304.

  Colocasia, i. 445.

  Copper: taken as exchange, i. 502;
    known to Monbuttoo, ii. 109;
    ornaments, ii. 110;
    goods obtained for, ii. 362;
    mines, ii. 372.

  _Cordia abyssinica_, i. 558.

  Crocodiles, ii. 336.

  Cussonia, ii. 212.

  Cyanite, ii. 47.


  DAL KURDYOOK, a Dinka chief, ii. 466.

  Damury, ii. 345.

  Damvo, ii. 212.

  Dangabor, Bongo ornament, i. 282.

  Dangadduloo, i. 372.

  Dapper, ii. 136.

  Dar Aboo Dinga river, ii. 390.

  Dar Ferteet, district of, ii. 365, 430.

  Darfoor, refuge for outlaws, i. 383;
    route to, ii. 371;
    its copper-mines, ii. 372.

  Defafang, an extinct volcano, i. 69.

  Dehms, ii. 355, 365;
    Dehm Nduggo, ii. 360;
    Dehm Gudyoo, ii. 380;
    Dehm Bekeer, ii. 387.

  Deloo antelopes, i. 245.

  Depopulation of Africa, ii. 437.

  Deraggo, i. 399.

  Dialect: Dyoor, i. 200;
    Bongo, i. 311;
    Niam-niam, ii. 31;
    Monbuttoo, ii. 102;
    Akka, ii. 144;
    Golo, ii. 350;
    Kredy, ii. 368;
    Sehre, ii. 396.

  DINKA: territory, i. 148;
    physical peculiarities, i. 149;
    ornaments, i. 153;
    weapons, i. 155;
    cookery, i. 157;
    houses, i. 159;
    domestic animals, i. 160;
    population, i. 167;
    character, i. 169;
    soil, i. 180.

  Displacement of Nile vegetation, i. 69.

  Djee, the river, ii. 388, 395.

  Doggoroo, the river, i. 327; ii. 268.

  Doggudoo (or Dokkuttoo), i. 367.

  Dome-palms (_Hyphæne thebaica_), ii. 185.

  Doomookoo, i. 240.

  Dracænæ, i. 21.

  Dualism of vegetation, i. 223, 505.

  Ducks, i. 120.

  Dueme, village on the White Nile, i. 59.

  Duggoo, i. 343.

  Dugwara, i. 389.

  Duisberg, German vice-consul at Khartoom, i. 42, 45; ii. 482.

  Dumburre, ii. 407.

  Dyafer, Pasha, Governor-general of Khartoom, i. 44; ii. 479, 483.

  Dyagbe, the river, i. 516.

  Dyoor, the river, mouth of, i. 124;
    old bed of, i. 125;
    dimensions of, i. 186; ii. 283, 312;
    fishing in, ii. 451.

  DYOOR, nation; name and dialect, i. 200;
    complexion and ornaments, i. 201;
    women, i. 202;
    slimness, i. 204;
    spears and spades, i. 205;
    iron-smelting, i. 206;
    smelting-furnaces, i. 207;
    huts, i. 209;
    hunting snares, i. 211;
    character, i. 211;
    clay-floors, i. 212;
    affection, i. 212.


  EARTH-NUTS, i. 250.

  Eclipse of sun, i. 11.

  Egyptians, their troops, ii. 357;
    their apathy, ii. 435.

  Elephants: African contrasted with Indian, i. 139;
    traces of, i. 457;
    hunted by Niam-niam, ii. 25;
    present of a young elephant, ii. 277.

  Eleusine-corn, i. 248, 448, 492;
    beer made from, ii. 13.

  El-Sett (the grass barrier), i. 107.

  El-Usher, ii. 343.

  Encephalartus, i. 448; ii. 375.

  Ensete (wild plantain), ii. 215.

  _Entada scandens_, ii. 62.

  _Eriodendron anfractuosum_, ii. 351.

  Erkoweet, a summer retreat from Sunkin, i. 25.

  Euphorbiæ, i. 21;
    candelabra, i. 120.

  Extract of meat, ii. 69, 234.


  FAKI, grave of a, ii. 292;
    reverence for Fakis, ii. 324;
    Fakis as slave-dealers, ii. 413.

  Fan, analogy with Niam-niam, ii. 19.

  Fanatical priest from Kano, i. 30;
    an offended, ii. 342.

  Fanekama, ii. 479.

  Farookh (black soldiers), ii. 182, 421.

  Fashoda, limit of Egyptian government, i. 78;
    return to, ii. 479.

  Ferns, i. 507.

  Fever, immunity from, i. 128;
    deaths from, ii. 486.

  Fig-trees of Monbuttoo, ii. 88;
    gigantic tree in Bongo land, ii. 343;
    in Seriba Moody, ii. 405.

  Fire, alarm of, i. 316; ii. 461;
    in Seriba, ii. 290.

  Flags, i. 138.

  Flies on the Gazelle, i. 115.

  Fulbe, affinity of Monbuttoo with, ii. 101.

  Funguses, i. 267.


  GADDA, the river, ii. 251.

  Gallery-forests, i. 504;
    vegetation of, i. 506.

  Garden, my, i. 213.

  Gazelle, the river (Bahr-el-Ghazal), i. 112, 113, 123, 126; ii. 473.

  Geer, the Seriba, i. 181, 230; ii. 460.

  Geese, on the White Nile, i. 54.

  Gellahbas (slave-dealers), i. 228; ii. 356, 360, 365, 412, 417.

  Ghattas, choice of, i. 45;
    contract with, i. 48;
    a bird named, i. 115;
    his Seribas, ii. 270, 289.

  Ghetty, the river, ii. 336.

  Gimsah, sulphur works at, i. 12.

  Giraffes, i. 182.

  Gnats, i. 115.

  Gneiss-hills, i. 536; ii. 387.

  Goat-suckers (_Cosmetornis Spekii Sclatei_), i. 357.

  Goggo, i. 394.

  Gourds, i. 252; ii. 269.

  Government contract, i. 6;
    troops, ii. 305.

  Grass, i. 229.

  Grass-barrier (El-Sett), i. 105.

  Grass-huts, ii. 226.

  Greenstone prevalent, i. 32.

  Gresse, the river, ii. 380.

  Gudyoo, Dehm, ii. 379.

  Guinea-fowl, i. 460.

  Guinea-hog, ii. 78.

  Gumango, the hill, i. 446;
    chasm, ii. 346.

  Gum-arabic, i. 97.

  Gun-accident, i. 88;
    narrow escape from, i. 474, 497.

  Gyabir, the interpreter, i. 513;
    shot in the arm, i. 533;
    his cowardice, ii. 284.


  HABBABKUM, i. 65.

  _Haliëtos vocifer_, i. 96.

  Hartebeests, i. 195; ii. 231, 259, 263, 463.

  Hassanieh—their cattle, i. 58;
    their dogs, i. 59.

  Hegelig (Balanites), i. 66.

  Hellali, the swindler, ii. 266, 330, 356, 364.

  Herminiera (ambatch), i. 61.

  Heuglin, Theodor von, i. 129; ii. 337, 339, 344.

  Hexabolus (Anonacea), i. 432.

  Hibiscus, i. 253.

  Hippopotamuses—in the White Nile, i. 56;
    in the Keebaly, ii. 159;
    in the Dyoor, ii. 314;
    their fat, ii. 316;
    one dying, ii. 473.

  Hoo, the river, i. 456; ii. 200, 225.

  Humboldt Institution, grant from, i. 4.

  Humboldtia (Kobbo-tree), i. 451.

  Hussīen, my Nubian servant, i. 416.

  Huts, of the Dyoor, i. 209;
    grass, ii. 226.

  Hyæna-dogs (_Canis pictus_), ii. 274.

  Hyæna-woman, i. 307; ii. 475.

  Hyæna chasing an antelope, ii. 205.

  Hydrographical law as affecting riverbanks, i. 54.

  Hyptis, i. 250.


  IBBA, the river (the Upper Tondy), i. 435.

  Ibrahim Effendi, ii. 363.

  Idrees (Ghattas’s plenipotentiary), i. 178;
    his negligence, ii. 297.

  Idrees, Wod Defter, ii. 349.

  Indimma, ii. 239.

  Inglery, Mohammed Aboo Sammat’s trumpeter, i. 490.

  Islamism, ii. 434.

  Islands of Sixth Cataract, i. 40.

  Ismail Pasha, _bon mot_ of, i. 113.

  Issoo, the Upper Tondy, ii. 210.

  Ivory, trade in Khartoom, i. 46;
    traffic unimportant, i. 175;
    Europeans in ivory trade, i. 177;
    cost of, i. 503.

  Izingerria—visit to, i. 547.


  JACKALS, i. 236.

  Jewish school, i. 330.


  KAHPILY, the river, ii. 155.

  Kamrasi, inquiries for, ii. 67.

  Kanna, ambassadors from, ii. 55;
    march to, ii. 240.

  Karra, the magic tuber, ii. 399.

  Keebaly, the river, ii. 151;
    its rapids, ii. 158;
    its identity with the Upper Shary, ii. 161.

  Khalil, i. 188; ii. 302, 318, 409, 453.

  Khareef, i. 324.

  Khartoom: merchants of, i. 5;
    arrival at, i. 42;
    reception in, i. 44;
    ivory trade of, i. 46;
    ship-building at, i. 51;
    return to, ii. 481.

  Khaya-tree, i. 188.

  Kher, Mohammed, i. 71.

  Khor-el-Renuem, ii. 353.

  Kigelin, i. 140.

  Kilnoky, i. 231.

  Kishy, bridge over the river, ii. 203.

  Kissere (Arab bread), i. 249; ii. 252.

  Kites, ii. 231.

  Kobbe-trees (Humboldtia), i. 431.

  Kokkorokoo, the tree, i. 469.

  _Kosaria palmata_, i. 220.

  Krapf, ii. 138.

  KREDY: their appearance, ii. 367;
    boundaries, ii. 368;
    huts, ii. 375;
    corn-magazines, ii. 376.

  Kubby, ii. 157.

  Kudy, village of, i. 170; ii. 466.

  Kulongo, i. 233.

  Kurbatches, ii. 317.

  Kurdyook, Shol’s husband, i. 133; ii. 469.

  Kurragera, southern limit of Aboo Sammat’s territory, i. 395.

  Kurkur, ii. 273.

  Kurshook Ali, the Sandjak, ii. 265;
    his death, ii. 282.

  Kussumbo, woods on the, i. 541; ii. 154.

  Kyatt worm, i. 166.

  Kyt, _cul-de-sac_ on the Gazelle, i. 124, 127; ii. 471.


  LAO, its water, i. 143; ii. 467.

  Lassav (_Capparis galeata_), i. 23.

  Lavargue, French vice-consul at Berber, i. 39;
    his death, ii. 486.

  Leopard killed, ii. 255.

  Lepidosiren, i. 135.

  Le Saint, i. 129.

  Leucotis antelopes, i. 196.

  “L’homme à queue” told on the Nile, i. 68; ii. 2.

  Lightning, women killed by, i. 317.

  Lindukoo, last stream of Nile-system, i. 486, 493;
    cataract on, i. 491; ii. 191.

  Lions: limited in number, i. 361;
    carrying off a soldier, i. 367;
    track of a, ii. 156;
    one shot, ii. 311.

  Livingstone, Dr., i. 504; ii. 99, 186.

  Lizards (_Agama colonorum_), i. 322.

  Lollo, the river, ii. 477.

  Longo, dirt in, ii. 340.

  Loobah woman, i. 409.


  MADIKAMM, ii. 201.

  Madoqua antelopes, i. 244.

  Maia Signora, i. 107; ii. 474.

  Maize, i. 248;
    preparation by Niam-niam, ii. 16;
    in Mbomo’s district, ii. 254.

  Mabzac, i. 337.

  Manatus, in the Keebaly, ii. 160.

  Mandeb (_Mimosa aspirata_), i. 61.

  Manioc, bearer poisoned by, i. 476;
    its cultivation, i. 525.

  Manzilly, the brook, i. 458.

  Maogoo, cattle from the, i. 546; ii. 69;
    probable identity with the Malegga, ii. 85.

  Marshes, mode of crossing, i. 498.

  Matamma, on the Nile, i. 39.

  Mbahly: nickname for Aboo Sammat, i. 481;
    Munza’s inquiries for, ii. 38;
    his challenge, ii. 177.

  Mbarik-pah, the leaf-eater, i. 513; ii. 202.

  Mbomo, the Seriba, ii. 247, 253.

  Mbrwole, the river, i. 496; ii. 188, 189.

  Mehemet Ali, ii. 431.

  Menagerie, a, ii. 278.

  Merdyan’s Seriba, ii. 204.

  Meshera, i. 48;
    arrival at the, i. 124;
    the mode of anchoring in, i. 130;
    start from the, i. 137;
    embarkation from the, ii. 469.

  Mice, i. 273.

  Mimosa, stranding on a, ii. 260.

  Minstrels, a Niam-niam, i. 445; ii. 30, 241.

  Mirakok, i. 145.

  MITTOO: tour in their country, i. 367;
    language, i. 403;
    fertility of soil, i. 405;
    ornaments, i. 411;
    bearers, i. 419;
    value as slaves, ii. 419.

  Mofio, ii. 389, 417.

  Molmul, the river, ii. 273, 301.

  Momvoo: goats of the, ii. 69;
    their country, ii. 83.

  MONBUTTOO: pipes, i. 548;
    canoes, i. 555;
    charm of country, i. 557;
    halls, ii. 42;
    their curiosity, ii. 53, 59;
    women, ii. 60, 91;
    reports of territory, ii. 81, 82;
    government, ii. 86;
    scenery, ii. 86;
    produce, ii. 87;
    hunting, ii. 89;
    cannibalism, ii. 92;
    potentates, ii. 96;
    complexion, ii. 100;
    dialect, ii. 102;
    coiffure, ii. 106;
    weapons, ii. 107, 111;
    smelting, ii. 108;
    tools, ii. 112;
    benches, ii. 113;
    shields and seat-rests, ii. 115;
    water-bottles, ii. 116;
    basket-work and musical instruments, ii. 117;
    architecture, ii. 118;
    religion, ii. 120.

  Money, iron, i. 279.

  Mongolongbo, valley of, i. 429.

  Mongono, ii. 348.

  Monkeys, i. 488.

  Morokoh, the river, ii. 251.

  Mummery, Munza’s brother, ii. 72, 74;
    his body-guard of Akka, ii. 131.

  Mundo, of the Bongo, i. 241; ii. 258.

  Mundo in Zileï Mountains, ii. 210.

  Mungala, Niam-niam game, ii. 28.

  Muntass Bey, Governor of Suakin, i. 24.

  Munza: messengers from, i. 556;
    view of his palace, i. 558;
    his friendship for Mohammed, ii. 37;
    summons to, ii. 39;
    waiting for, ii. 41;
    his ornamental weapons, ii. 43, 94;
    his costume and appearance, ii. 45;
    presents for, ii. 47;
    his mode of smoking, ii. 48;
    his oration, ii. 51;
    his present to me, ii. 52;
    his sister, ii. 58;
    his wives, ii. 58;
    his castle, ii. 63;
    his arsenal, ii. 64;
    his dance, ii. 75;
    his sleeping apartments, ii. 77;
    visits from, ii. 77;
    his dish, ii. 79;
    his harem, ii. 96;
    his household, ii. 97;
    his wardrobe, ii. 98.

  Murhaga, ii. 424.

  _Musa sapientium_, i. 447.

  Mvolo, district of, i. 384;
    animals in, i. 387.

  Mwata Yanvo, ii. 99.


  NABAMBISSO, the river, ii. 193.

  Nalengbe, Munza’s sister, ii. 58, 95.

  Names of places, i. 194.

  Ndoruma, ii. 309.

  Nduppo, Wando’s brother, i. 478;
    his death, i. 517.

  Nembey, visit from, i. 540;
    arrival at, ii. 153.

  _Neophron pileatus_, i. 97.

  Ngama, i. 411.

  Nganye, a Niam-niam chieftain, i. 436;
    visit to, i. 431;
    his family, i. 450;
    stay with, ii. 243.

  Ngoly, i. 428; ii. 263.

  Ngudoroo, the river, ii. 388.

  Ngulfala, distillery in, i. 238; ii. 403.

  NIAM-NIAM: first sight of, i. 189;
    start to their country, i. 416;
    their huts, i. 449;
    their chiefs, i. 467;
    modesty of the women, i. 471;
    morning toilette, i. 491;
    names of, ii. 3;
    their country, ii. 3;
    their appearance, ii. 5;
    clothing, ii. 6;
    head-gear, ii. 7;
    decorations, ii. 8;
    trumbashes, ii. 9;
    weapons, ii. 10;
    hunting and agriculture, ii. 12;
    beer, ii. 13;
    pipes, ii. 14;
    dogs, ii. 15, 241;
    architecture, ii. 20;
    chieftains, ii. 21;
    emblems of war, ii. 23;
    handicraft, ii. 25;
    greetings, ii. 27;
    marriages and conjugal affection, ii. 28;
    music, ii. 29;
    dialect, ii. 31;
    auguries, ii. 32;
    superstition and treatment of dead, ii. 34;
    attack by, ii. 236;
    value as slaves, ii. 419.

  Nile-boats, crowded, i. 50; ii. 478.

  Nilometer, proposed, i. 41.

  No, Lake, i. 111, 112.

  Nsewne, the Akka, ii. 132;
    his love of mischief, ii. 144.

  NUBIANS: their pitiable condition, i. 41;
    their superstitions, i. 49; ii. 322;
    how to deal with them, i. 421;
    their inconsistency, ii. 165;
    their dislike to pure water, ii. 275;
    soldiers, i. 176.

  Nueir, district of the, i. 117;
    their habits, i. 119.

  Nyemata, Mount, i. 67.

  Nyitti, i. 251.

  _Nymphæa stellata and N. lotus_, i. 114.


  O-BONGO, ii. 135.

  Oil palm, ii. 89;
    oil from, ii. 92.

  O-mareg, summer retreat from Suakin, i. 31.

  Ombet (dragon-tree), i. 22.

  Ori, Dr., letter to Antinori, ii. 80;
    his death, ii. 486.

  Oysters, river, ii. 452.


  PAPYRUS, i. 109;
    at the Kyt, i. 126.

  Parkia-trees, ii. 339.

  Parley with Niam-niam chiefs, ii. 169.

  _Parra africanus_, i. 136.

  Parrots, grey, ii. 9.

  Peneeo, the behnky, i. 436.

  Penicillaria, i. 248.

  Pepper, cayenne, i. 253;
    malaghetta, i. 468;
    Ashantee, ii. 382.

  Petherick, i. 127.

  Piaggia, his visit to the Niam-niam, i. 434, 504;
    inquiries about, i. 480; ii. 56;
    his lake, ii. 65.

  Pillen-wasp (_Eumenes tinctor_), i. 321.

  Plantains, i. 198; ii. 87, 88.

  _Platycerium elephantotis_, i. 538.

  _Plotus melanogaster_, i. 114.

  _Polopterus bichir_, i. 135, 232.

  Poncet, the brothers, contract with the government, i. 382;
    their settlement, i. 393.

  Pongo, the river, ii. 344.

  Popukky grass, i. 437, 447.

  Port Rek, i. 125; ii. 467.

  Posts, memorial, i. 517.

  Pushyoh, a Treculia, i. 528.

  Pygmies: my incredulity about, i. 68;
    exchange a dog for a pygmy, ii. 67;
    stories about, ii. 153.
    (_Vide_ Akka.)

  _Python Sebæ_, killed near Fashoda, i. 83;
    and antelope killed together, i. 364.


  QUININE, i. 128;
    value of, i. 323.


  RAINFALL, ii. 281.

  _Raphia vinifera_, i. 199;
    used for building, ii. 42.

  Rats, ii. 405.

  Red Sea, voyage on, i. 11;
    heat on, i. 15;
    nights on, i. 18.

  Reed-rats, ii. 384;
   hunting, ii. 408, 446.

  Reggo, i. 392.

  Rek, Port, i. 125; ii. 467.

  Rhinoceros-bird (_Tetmoceras abyssinicus_), ii. 205.

  Rice, i. 247.

  Riharn, my cook, i. 60, 486; ii. 204.

  Rikkete, Wando’s brother, i. 479;
    entertaining, i. 486;
    visit to, i. 487;
    his wives, i. 489.

  Roah, the river, i. 367.

  Rock rabbits, i. 385.

  Rohl, the river, i. 376, 401.

  Rokko-coats of Monbuttoo, ii. 104.

  Rokooba, ii. 289.

  Roway, salt-works at, i. 16.

  Rye, the river, i. 448.


  SABBY (Seriba), i. 337, 340; ii. 264.

  Sablook, i. 40.

  Salt-works at Cape Roway, i. 16.

  Sarcocephalus, i. 192.

  Schweinfurthia, i. 35.

  Scorbutic attack, ii. 381.

  Scorpions, ii. 456.

  Seebehr Rahama, ii. 329;
    his Seriba, ii. 354;
    his court, ii. 361;
    departure from, ii. 374.

  Sehre, ii. 395, 397, 401.

  Seriba, i. 47;
    Ghattas’s, i. 172;
    destruction of a, i. 225;
    law, i. 226;
    controllers of, ii. 426;
    Shereefee’s, i. 340.

  Sesame, i. 229.

  Seyleb (_Sanseviera_), i. 22.

  Shary, identity with the Welle, i. 553.

  Shekka, ii. 370.

  Shereefee, his Seriba Duggoo, i. 343;
    his Seriba Dogguddoo, i. 344;
    dearth in his Seribas. ii. 267;
    attacks Mohammed, ii. 85;
    shielded by the Aga, ii. 358.

  SHILLOOKS: first sight of, i. 72;
    statistics, i. 85;
    their villages, i. 87;
    their animals, i. 91;
    pursuit by, i. 101;
    market, i. 101; ii. 471.

  Shipbuilding in Khartoom, i. 51.

  Shol, the Dinka queen, i. 141;
    her riches and influence, i. 131;
    her appearance, i. 132;
    presents to, i. 134;
    her death, ii. 338;
    remains of her huts, ii. 469.

  Shoosh-grass (_Panicum turgidum_), i. 53.

  Short rations, ii. 196.

  Singat, i. 24.

  Skins, abundance of, i. 481.

  Skulls, purchase of, ii. 54;
    in Berlin Museum, ii. 32.

  Slaves crowded in boats, i. 50; ii. 478;
    as payment to soldiers, i. 175;
    dying of starvation, i. 346;
    feeding a caravan of, i. 368;
    complaints of female, i. 390;
    cruelty to, ii. 414;
    price of, ii. 418;
    comparative value of, ii. 419;
    number of, ii. 420;
    as soldiers, ii. 421;
    private, ii. 422;
    employed in husbandry, ii. 425;
    treatment in Egypt, ii. 436;
    on board the Nile boat, ii. 470;
    at Wod Shellay, ii. 480;
    confiscation of, ii. 483.

  Slave-dealer from Tunis, i. 189.

  Slave-trade: independent of ivory trade, i. 46;
    population of Bongo-land diminished by, i. 260;
    tacitly acknowledged, i. 381;
    all enterprises involved in, i. 383;
    flourishing in 1870 and 1871, ii. 410;
    sources of, ii. 428;
    abolition of, ii. 433;
    measures taken in Fanekama against, ii. 478.

  Slave-traders: iniquity of, i. 190;
    rendezvous at Shekka for, ii. 370;
    goods bartered by, ii. 411;
    description of, ii. 412;
    risks incurred by, ii. 415;
    hospitality shown to, ii. 416;
    classes of, ii. 417.

  Smelting-furnaces: of the Dyoor, i. 207;
    of the Bongo, i. 208, 278.

  Sobat, the river, i. 100.

  _Soirée musicale_ of the Bongo, i. 354.

  Soldiers: Nubian, i. 176;
    black, i. 483.

  Soliman, son of Kurshook Ali, ii. 452.

  Solar phenomenon, i. 326.

  Solongoh, ii. 389.

  Sorghum, i. 245; ii. 252.

  Sources of slave-trade, ii. 428.

  Sparmannia, ii. 200.

  Speke, i. 113, 319; ii. 126.

  _Spiro streptus_, i. 214.

  Squirrels (_Sciurus leucumbrinus_), i. 387.

  Steps counted in walking, ii. 300.

  Sterculia, ii. 393.

  Steudner, Dr., i. 129;
    death of, ii. 337.

  Suæda (samphire), i. 17.

  Suakin, sea-route to, i. 10;
    excursion from, i. 19;
    return to, ii. 488.

  Suez, blunders in telegram, i. 7;
    scenes in governor’s divan, i. 8, 9;
    canal, i. 10.

  Sugar-canes, i. 547.

  Sulphur-works at Gimsah, i. 12.

  Sun, eclipse of, i. 11.

  Suppression of slave-trade, suggestions for, ii. 439.

  Surroor, Aboo Sammat’s lieutenant, i. 465;
    his mbanga, i. 470;
    speaks Arabic, i. 473.

  Swamp-men, i. 119.

  Sway, the river, identical with the Dyoor, i. 453;
    crossing the, ii. 228.

  Swords, ii. 457.


  TAKE, village of, i. 145; ii. 467.

  Telegram, i. 7; ii. 482.

  Terminalia, i. 426.

  Thibaud, ii. 482.

  Tikkitikki, ii. 133;
    parting from friends, ii. 149;
    successful shooting, ii. 278, 450;
    illness and death, ii. 486.

  Tinné, Miss, fatality of expedition, i. 129;
    her headquarters, ii. 332;
    her mother, ii. 338.

  Tobacco, i. 160, 214, 254, 269; ii. 14, 87.

  Tokkuls, i. 178.

  Tombo, king, i. 480.

  Tondy, the river, i. 181;
    passage over, i. 336;
    suspension-bridge over, ii. 43, 44;
    crossing the, ii. 269.

  Transport, means of, i. 139; ii. 305;
    suggestion for, ii. 307.

  Travelling costume, i. 425.

  _Troglodytes niger_, i. 519.

  Trumbash, i. 441; ii. 9.

  Trumpet-tree, ii. 157.

  Tubers, i. 250, 268, 445.

  Tudyee, the river, i. 366, 426.

  Tuhamy, arrival of, i. 542;
    his Seriba, ii. 201, 209.

  Turks, ii. 359.


  _Urostigma Kotschyana_, ii. 88;
    bast of, ii. 102.

  _Usnea_ (beard-moss), i. 26.

  Uzze, the river, i. 477.


  VALISNERIA, in the Gazelle, i. 123.

  Vasel, ii. 485.

  Vayssière, the French hunter, i. 185.

  Vegetation of Nile displaced by civilization, i. 69.

  Viceroy, _bon mot_ of, i. 113;
    small power of, ii. 441.

  _Victoria regia_, attempt to naturalize, i. 121.

  Vine, wild, ii. 234.

  _Vivera genetta_, i. 490.


  WANDO: animosity of, i. 482;
    river of, i. 496;
    Mohammed’s interview with, i. 501, 504;
    his nonchalance, i. 505;
    his present of food, i. 511;
    his augury, ii. 33, 49.

  Watches, ii. 299.

  Water, bad, ii. 400.

  —— -birds, ii. 315.

  —— -lilies, i. 114.

  —— -plants, i. 121.

  —— -shed of Nile, i. 494.

  Welle, the river, i. 548, 554.

  White-ants: their hills, i. 120;
    of the trees, i. 539;
    as food, ii. 197.

  White Nile, embarkation on, i. 49.

  Widow-ducks, i. 121.

  Wild boar shot, i. 363.

  Wod Shellay, i. 56; ii. 480.

  Wounds, Mittoo treatment of, i. 371;
    by arrows, ii. 279;
    Dyoor treatment of, ii. 334.

  Wow, the Seriba, i. 91.

  Wow, the river, i. 190; ii. 333.


  YABO, i. 476.

  Yabongo, i. 476; ii. 193.

  Yams, i. 250.

  Yanga’s grave, i. 285.

  Yolo-antelopes, ii. 446.

  Yubbo, the river, i. 478; ii. 192.

  Yumma, Kurshook Ali’s Vokeel, ii. 384, 389.

  Yuroo, i. 531.


  ZAWA-TREES, i. 447; ii. 200.

  Zebra-ichneumon, i. 358.

  Zileï Mountains, ii. 210.




Transcriber’s Note:

This book was written in a period when many words had not become
standardized in their spelling. Words may have multiple spelling
variations or inconsistent hyphenation in the text. These have been
left unchanged unless indicated below.

Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like
this_. Footnotes were renumbered sequentially and were moved to the
end of the chapter. Obvious printing errors, such as backwards,
upside down, missing, or partially printed letters and punctuatios,
were corrected. Final stops missing at the end of sentences and
abbreviations were added. Obsolete and alternative spellings were left
unchanged. Misspelled words were not corrected.

In the List of Illustrations, Dinka Village shown as facing page
159, instead is displayed as the frontispiece.

The following were changed:

Odd-numbered page headers were converted to sidenotes.

Printer’s notes were removed from captions identifying the facing page
number of full-page illustrations.

The index, contained in Volume 2, was added to this volume as a
convenience to readers.