[Illustration: MAP _OF THE_ WHITE NILE, _laid down from the Diary of_
FERD. WERNE. by H. Mahlmann 1848.

Hillmandel & Walton Lithographers.

Richard Bentley New Burlington Street, 1849.]


                              EXPEDITION
                      TO DISCOVER THE SOURCES OF
                            THE WHITE NILE,
                             IN THE YEARS
                              1840, 1841.

                          BY FERDINAND WERNE.

                           From the German,
                     BY CHARLES WILLIAM O’REILLY.

                               * * * * *

                            IN TWO VOLUMES.
                                VOL. I.

                                LONDON:
                RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
                 Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.
                               * * * * *
                                 1849.




                               PREFACE.
                               * * * * *

The rich contents and originality of the work before us will escape
no one who casts a glance at it, however hasty that may be. It
presents the liveliest views of the Natural Productions and People
of regions hitherto entirely unvisited. The surprising novelty
of the phenomena is described by a writer of much experience, bold
energy, and intense devotion to the land of the South. We welcome it,
therefore, as a pleasing contribution to our literature of travel,
often so insipid. The discoverer of the Source of the White Nile,
under the vertical rays of the sun in Equatorial Inner Africa, will
share the same fate as his illustrious predecessor, James Bruce,
the discoverer of the Sources of the Blue Nile, if many of his
statements should be doubted, criticised, and misunderstood.

We have, however, no pretensions to be defenders of them. Some
ten years later, perhaps, their justification, with the exception
of a few errors, may follow our Herodotean wanderer into a _terra
incognita_. Such was the case with a Marco Polo, Christopher Columbus,
James Bruce, and Mungo Park.

Two French accounts have preceded the present narrative of a German
fellow-traveller, in one of the three vast expeditions by water,
undertaken by Mohammed Ali in 1840 and the succeeding years, with
unequal success, for the discovery of the Sources of the Bahr el
Abiad. We welcomed the French accounts on their first appearance,
notwithstanding their meagreness and doubtfulness, in consequence of
their main results. At the same time we expressed our hope that we
should be better informed of these events by their fellow-traveller,
for we were already aware of the exertions of the author of the
present narrative. Everything, therefore, introductory to this Work
will be found in the undermentioned pamphlet, to which it is only
necessary here to refer to avoid repetition in a preface:—

“A Glance at the Country of the Source of the Nile, by C. Ritter,
with a Map, Berlin, 1844, and three Supplements—1st, by F. Werne,
the Second Expedition to discover the Sources of the White Nile, from
November 1840 to April 1841, pages 42-50. 2nd—On Carl Zimmermann’s
annexed Chart, to shew the Upper Country of the Nile. 3d—Dr. Girard
on the Nature of the Soil of Central Africa on both banks of the Upper
Bahr el Abiad, to the foot of the Mountains of the Moon, pages 68-72.,
principally from the mountain specimens brought home by Mr. Werne.”

We have the pleasure of possessing, in the present more accurate
statement, many new data and remarks on earlier accounts, though,
doubtless, these will bring on a controversy, for the acrimony
of which the Author has himself to blame. When, however, such
sarcasm is directed in an instructive and legitimate manner, as that
against D’Abbadie, in the convincing Appendix, (to which we must
here draw attention, in order to understand the whole,) we cannot
blame the Author, who has gained by toil and labour positive facts,
for rendering them secure, as far as possible, against malicious
presumptions and arrogant hypotheses. Science, moreover, is always
the gainer by these discussions.

The annexed Map has been newly constructed, by Mr. H. Mahlmann, with
his usual scrupulous accuracy, from the manuscript of the Journal, and
the notes of the Traveller. Though, under the present circumstances,
it leaves much here and there to be desired, yet by comparing it
with that of Bimbashi D’Arnaud’s, executed and published at
Paris in 1843, it makes a very useful addition to the Work. Still
much instructive elucidation and enlargement of knowledge might
be gained by a complete description and pictorial representation
of the wonderful collection of Natural Productions, Works of Art,
Weapons, Household Utensils, and other objects, hitherto the only
one we possess. In the annexed engraving we give a specimen of these
curiosities, collected by Mr. Werne’s care, on his journey to Bari,
and afterwards incorporated by him, in addition to his Collection of
Natural History, with the Royal Museum of this city, where they are
to be viewed, to the number of one hundred and twenty-six different
articles.

                                                            C. RITTER.

  BERLIN, _July_ 27, 1848.




                               CONTENTS
                                  OF
                           THE FIRST VOLUME.
                               * * * * *

                              CHAPTER I.

                                                                    PAGE

  INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER                                                 1

                              CHAPTER II.

  COMPOSITION OF THE EXPEDITION. — AHMED BASHA; HIS CHARACTER. —
  SCENE BETWEEN MOHAMMED ALI AND SHEIKH SULIMAN OF ROSSIÈRES. —
  SLAVE TRADE AND SLAVE HUNTS. — SULIMAN EFFENDI, THE SICILIAN
  POISONER. — DEATH OF MUSTAPHA BEY. — VAISSIÈRE AND THE
  EUROPEANS IN EGYPT. — PUCKLER MUSCAU. — AHMED BASHA’S WIFE. —
  DESCRIPTION OF KHARTÙM. — BLUE AND WHITE NILE. — DEPARTURE OF
  THE EXPEDITION.                                                     29

                             CHAPTER III.

  VILLAGE OF OMDURMAN. — MOHAMMED EL NIMR, THE BURNER OF ISMAIL,
  MOHAMMED ALI’S SON. — MEROE AND THE PYRAMIDS. — SENNAAR. —
  WANT OF DISCIPLINE ON BOARD THE VESSELS. — SCENERY OF THE
  RIVER. — TOMB OF MOHA-BEY. — DIFFERENT ARAB TRIBES. — HILLS
  OF AULI MANDERA AND BRAME. — SULIMAN KASHEF. — REMARKS ON HIS
  GOVERNMENT. — AQUATIC PLANTS. — THE SHILLUKS AND BARÀBRAS. —
  LITTLE FEAST OF BAIRAM. — CHARACTERS OF THIBAUT, THE FRENCH
  COLLECTOR, AND OF ARNAUD AND SABATIER, THE ENGINEERS. — HONEY.
  — MANDJERA OR DUCKS. — FEÏZULLA CAPITAN’S EPILEPTIC FITS. —
  WOODED ISLANDS. — THE HEDJAZI.                                      67

                              CHAPTER IV.

  MONOTONOUS SCENERY. — CULTIVATION OF DATE-PALMS. — EL AES. —
  BOUNDARY OF THE TURKISH DOMINIONS. — REPUBLIC OF APES. —
  HUSSEIN AGU’S FAVOURITE MONKEY. — CRUELTY OF EMIR BEY. —
  ADVENTURE WITH A CROCODILE. — BELIEF OF THE TURKS IN THE
  TRANSMIGRATION OF SOULS. — LIEUT. ABD. ELLIAB, THE DEVOTEE. —
  THE TAILORING PROPENSITIES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — A “FANTASIE.”
  — FEÏZULLA’S INTEMPERANCE. — GUINEA-FOWLS. — ABU SEID. —
  DESCRIPTION OF WATER PLANTS, AND GRAPES PECULIAR TO THE WHITE
  NILE. — THE AMBAK-TREE. — GEBL DINKU. — ABDURIECKMAN, CHIEF OF
  THE SHILLUKS, AND SULIMAN KASHEF’S BARBARITY. — HIPPOPOTAMIA,
  AND CURIOUS SUPERSTITION OF THE SAILORS. — THE DINKAS AND THE
  SHILLUKS. — THE LOTUS. — MOUNT DEFAFAUNGH. — TAMARIND TREES. —
  THE TAILOR-CAPTAIN, AND INSUBORDINATION OF HIS CREW. — FIRST
  APPEARANCE OF GNATS.                                                96

                              CHAPTER V.

  A STORM. — TOKULS OR HUTS OF THE SHILLUKS. — THE TALLE, A
  SPECIES OF MIMOSA. — THE GEÏLID. — THE BAMIE. — UEKA. —
  WILD RICE. — OMMOS. — THE SHILLUKS A LARGER NATION THAN THE
  FRENCH! — IMMENSE POPULATION ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE ARM OF
  THE NILE. — THE HABAS OR FORESTS. — A TURKISH JEST! — LEECHES.
  — DISEMBARKATION ON THE LAND OF THE SHILLUKS. — DESCRIPTION OF
  THE TOKULS. — CONDUCT OF THE BEDOUINS TOWARDS THE PILGRIMS TO
  MECCA. — THE MURHAKA. — MANNER OF CATCHING GAZELLES. —SÜRTUKS
  OR CANOES OF THE SHILLUKS. — REFUSAL OF THE KING OF THIS NATION
  TO VISIT THE VESSELS. — TREATMENT OF HIS AMBASSADORS AT KHARTÙM.
  — THE BAOBÀB TREE. — DHELLÈB PALMS. — WINDINGS OF THE RIVER. —
  OSTRICHES. — HILLS OF ASHES OF THE DINKAS. — RIVER SOBÀB.          131

                              CHAPTER VI.

  ANT-HILLS. — TRIBE OF THE NUÈHRS. — THE JENGÄHS. — KAWASS OR
  SERJEANT MÀRIAN FROM MOUNT HABILA. — DESCRIPTION OF HIM. —
  TOKULS OF THE JENGÄHS. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GAZELLES. — THE
  RIVER N’JIN-N’JIN. — WORSHIP OF TREES. — THE GALLAS OR STEPPES.
  — BLACK COLOUR OF THE RIVER. — NEW SPECIES OF PLANTS. — THE
  BITTERN AND IBIS. — “BAUDA” OR GNATS: THEIR DREADFUL STING. —
  LIEUT. ABD-ELLIÀB’S CRUELTY TO HIS FEMALE SLAVE. — THE TOKRURI
  OR PILGRIM. — CURIOUS SUPERSTITION WITH REGARD TO THESE MEN. —
  MOUNTAIN CHAIN OF NUBA. — PAPYRUS ANTIQUUS OR GIGANTIC RUSH. —
  GAZELLE RIVER. — DEAD FISH. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SNAKES. —
  ARABIC SONGS AND FESTIVITY ON BOARD. — JENGÄHS SUPPOSED TO BE
  WORSHIPPERS OF THE MOON: THEIR MANNER OF TATOOING. — STRIFE
  BETWEEN THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. — ANTIPATHY OF THE FRENCH
  ENGINEERS TO EACH OTHER. — LOCUSTS. — TORMENT OF THE GNATS:
  THEIR VARIOUS SPECIES. — BARBARITY OF THE TURKS ON THE FORMER
  EXPEDITION. — MARVELLOUS STORIES OF THE ARABS. — HATRED OF THE
  NATIVES TO THE TURKS.                                              153

                             CHAPTER VII.

  QUESTION OF THE NAVIGATION OF THE NILE. — KING OF THE SNAKES. —
  OFFERINGS TO HIM BY THE ARABS. — KURDISTAN. — MÀRIAN’S AUTHORITY
  OVER THE NEGROES. — THE TAILOR CAPTAIN AGAIN. — DHELLÈB-PALMS.
  — WANTON DESTRUCTION BY THE CREW. — ELEPHANTS: WHITE BIRDS ON
  THEIR BACKS. — POISON-TREES. — THE NATION OF THE KÈKS: CUSTOMS
  AND DESCRIPTION OF THEM. — FLESH OF CAMELS AND GIRAFFES. —
  MERISSA PREPARED FROM ABRÈ. — THIBAUT DISCOVERED TO BE AN OLD
  ACQUAINTANCE. — RECOLLECTIONS OF GREECE. — WILD CUCUMBERS. —
  FEÏZULLA CAPITAN’S DRINKING PROPENSITIES.                          186

                             CHAPTER VIII.

  ARNAUD’S IGNORANCE AND SELIM CAPITAN’S CUNNING. — HATRED OF THE
  THREE FRENCHMEN TO EACH OTHER. — THE ENDERÀB TREE. — THE POISON
  TREE HARMLESS. — REMARKS ON THE LAKES IN CONNEXION WITH THE
  WHITE NILE. — THE WOOD OF THE AMBAK TREE. — FONDNESS OF THE ARABS
  FOR NICK-NAMES. — THE AUTHOR DEFENDED FROM GNATS BY A CAT. —
  INTERVIEW WITH A KÈK. — HUSSEÏN AGA’S DRINKING BOUTS WITH
  FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — DESCRIPTION OF A SUN-RISE. — VISIT OF THE
  KÈKS. — SULIMAN KASHEF AND THE LOOKING-GLASS.                      221

                              CHAPTER IX.

  TURTLE-DOVES. — DESERTION OF BLACK SOLDIERS AND PURSUIT OF THEM.
  — INTERVIEW WITH NATIVE WOMEN. — GIGANTIC STATURE OF THE KÈKS. —
  THEIR PASSION FOR GLASS BEADS. — FEÏZULLA CAPITAN’S QUARREL WITH
  A SUBALTERN OFFICER. — SYLVESTER’S EVE. — A “HAPPY NEW YEAR.” —
  VILLAGE OF BONN. — WANT OF SHADE IN THE FORESTS. — CURIOUS
  TATOOING AND CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES. — A WOMAN’S VILLAGE. —
  MODESTY OF THE WOMEN. — MEAT BROTH. — REPORT OF HOSTILE
  INTENTIONS OF NEGROES. — FRENCH EXPEDITION TO EGYPT UNDER
  NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.                                                250

                              CHAPTER X.

  SHEIKH DIM. — CLUBS OF THE KÈKS AND CAPS SIMILAR TO THOSE OF
  THE ANCIENT EGYPTIAN PRIESTS. — RAPACITY OF THE CREW. —
  TRIBUTARY LAKES. — HEIGHT OF THE SHORES. — THE TRIBE OF THE
  BUNDURIÀLS. — DUSHÒÏL, THE KÈK, ON BOARD SELIM CAPITAN’S VESSEL.
  — HIS SIMPLICITY. — TOBACCO PLANTATIONS. — THE GREAT SHEIKH OF
  THE BUNDURIÀLS. — FISHING IMPLEMENTS OF THIS TRIBE. — THEIR
  TOKULS, AND GIGANTIC SIZE OF THE MEN. — ANTELOPES OF THE ARIEL
  SPECIES. — APATHY OF THE CREW, AND INDIFFERENCE AT THE LOSS OF
  THEIR COMPANIONS. — PHILOSOPHY OF A NATIVE. — SINGULAR CONTRAST
  BETWEEN THE FEATURES OF THE SHEIKHS AND THE OTHER NEGROES. —
  NATION OF THE BOHRS. — THIBAUT’S BARTER. — REED-STRAW ON FIRE,
  AND DANGER TO THE VESSELS. — FATALISM OF THE TURKS. — GREETING
  OF THE NATIVES: THEIR SONG OF WELCOME.                             285

                              CHAPTER XI.

  NARROW ESCAPE FROM CROCODILES. — ILLNESS OF THE AUTHOR. —
  DESCRIPTION OF THE ELEPHANT-TREE. — CUSTOM OF MAKING BEDS ON
  ASHES VERY ANCIENT. — SULIMAN KASHEF SHOOTS A CROCODILE. —
  STRONG SMELL OF MUSK FROM THESE ANIMALS. — THE TRIBE OF THE
  ELLIÀBS. — WAR DANCES. — CHARGE AGAINST ARNAUD. — INJURY TO
  VESSELS BY HIPPOPOTAMI. — SULIMAN KASHEF’S CIRCASSIAN SLAVE. —
  CULTIVATED LAND. — THE FELATI. — APPEARANCE OF A MOUNTAIN. —
  TRIBE OF THE TSHISÈRRS. — STRATA OF THE SHORE. — RICINUS PLANTS.
  — FOUR LOWER INCISORS WANTING TO THE NATIVES ON THE SHORES OF THE
  WHITE NILE. — AGILITY AND STRENGTH OF THE NEGROES. — MORE
  MOUNTAINS APPEAR.                                                  319




                              EXPEDITION
                        TO DISCOVER THE SOURCES
                                OF THE
                              WHITE NILE.
                               * * * * *

                         INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.


Discoveries and conquests, which so frequently go hand in hand, are of
the greatest importance to the history of mankind. Like a combination
of streams, they break through natural boundaries and the rocky dams
of ages, and open a way for the incessant progress of civilization
through new and untrodden paths. Yet glorious enterprises, costly
equipments, and hazardous exploits, may conceal a swelling kernel
of material interest beneath a husk of fine reasons, as if these
constituted the primitive motive. Thus Mohammed Ali, the Viceroy
of Egypt, has done very much for science, especially geography,
without even thinking of it, whose comprehensive relations, with
respect to the higher requirements of mankind, lie far beyond the
limits of his ideas. Neither has he honoured with his study the
hieroglyphics in the Biban el Moluk near Thebes, where the black
Kushi bring golden rings as tribute to the Pharaohs. Yet he knows,
and is so exceedingly fond of these rings (Okiën), which in Ethiopia
even now serve instead of money, that, so far as the destroying arms
of this much-famed satrap reach in Belled-Sudan, no more okiën are
to be seen. Moreover, he is making exertions to follow and secure
those that have retreated and eluded his grasp, which affords an
excellent opportunity for extending our knowledge of the countries
and people of East and Central Africa. He sacrificed his son Ismail,
and, through the Defterdar, devastated and depopulated this beautiful
country, merely to secure to himself the way to the gold regions;
though he might have attained his object much better, had he sought
to elevate the country in every possible way, and to re-establish
mercantile confidence. For, from the earliest ages, a market has
existed here, to which gold comes, first hand, in the leaf and grain
form, by barter with the inhabitants of the interior, just as it has
been separated from the sand of the torrents, and kept in quills or
horns of the gazelle. In Sennaar or Kordofan it is found in rings of
half and whole okiën and in gold wire, but it is frequently changed,
by weighing and melting it down, into ingots or bars, which Mohammed
Ali just as little contemns.

But “Turks:”—in this one word is included all and every
answer to questions on the condition of the people. We shrug up
our shoulders, and say “Turks.” Whoever has lived some time
amongst them must, from the clearest conviction, confess the perfect
incapacity of these Turks for advancing and civilizing the countries
under their government, and their indifference to the interests, nay,
even their premeditated murder of the nations infested by them. The
complete depravity of the Asiatic world, even in the lifeless and
powerless form of a mass dissolved in corrupt fermentation, always
effervesces strongly into cruelty with the wide-spread barbarians
of the East, and displays itself in bestial vices, to the disgrace
of mankind and scorn of the sacred bond of nations. A truly savage
nature is theirs, which, from Montenegro to the east and south,
repels all western civilization, and would seek a kind of national
fame by ridiculous reactions against it, as a hated and even despised
foreign state of manners and life, in order to cover their nakedness
and infamy, and to cloak their empty ostentation. But the Turk of
Egypt is the outcast of his countryman in Turkey itself. Egypt, for
example, is so decried in Albania, on account of its corruption,
that the Arnaut returning from thence seldom obtains a _wife_,
even if he have his girdle full of red gold.

The smallest portion of the white Mohammedan population, called Turks
without distinction in Egypt and Ethiopia, belongs to the Albanian
nation, which, on the whole, provides the Egyptian army with its
best if not also with its cleverest men. This army is a mixture
of heterogeneous materials, having only their religion in common,
and the same slavish treatment and prospect of booty for their bond
of union. If the Turk has no remains left of his ancient aptitude
for conquests but the thirst of power which has accompanied his
victories; a haughty contempt of the rest of the world; the belief,
spread throughout the East, that European princes hold their crowns
from the Sultan by feudal tenure; and a boundless presumption, which
of itself would seem sufficient to destroy his dominion for ever,
yet the Sultan still remains the Padishah of God’s ancient grace
to his people.

This arises from the prevailing conglomeration of ideas about
absolute power, and a slavery denying the rights of subjects to
form themselves into an union of freemen. Thus Mohammed Ali is
looked upon as an intruder, an usurper, and a tyrant, not only by
the people, for he is feared, hated, and cursed even by the Turks;
a circumstance which makes his position so much the more difficult,
and his administration more oppressive and destructive. The whole
aim of his conquests, which he has pursued with such obstinacy,
is _immediate enrichment_ at any price; a dangerous and destructive
principle which animates all his wild hordes and mercenaries, since
it exercises the most pernicious influence over what has been gained
with a devastating hand, and in addition prepares unutterable misery
which will annihilate itself at last, for the Turks, shewing no pity
here, have none to expect. Thus, in my presence in Taka, thirty-two
Turkish horsemen with their servants were slain at a feast given
them by the Haddendas, not to mention other examples, which shew
the feeling prevalent amongst the people of Ethiopia against their
conquerors. Yet, as we before said, evil spirits must often serve
the good against their will; so, also, Mohammed Ali must be of use
to our scientific researches, although an involuntary instrument in
the hands of civilisation.

The treasures which Mohammed Ali had collected with Turkish cunning
and cruelty combined, threatened to be engulfed. The army and the
fleet—Syria, Arabia, and Albania—in one place war, in the other
military levies and plots against the Porte—disbursements in all
kinds of ventures with their costly cheats and samples—manufactories
and other establishments—travellers and agents to spread his
fame, and give him a good European reputation—unprecedented
embezzlements of the public funds, &c., and, lastly, Constantinople,
that insatiable gulf and grave of the Eastern world—all these had
completely exhausted his finances. There seemed but little more to
be gained by him, excepting the temples and antiquities, the sale of
which is not beyond the reach of possibility. Mohammed Ali was in this
embarrassment, when he determined to realise the plan of immediately
laying claim to the treasures of Fàzogl and Kordofàn. His Highness
obtained, by paying dearly for their services, certain officers
from the Austrian mining works, whose contract, however, (dated
Jan. 15th, 1836, in Trieste,) was so cunningly drawn up, that it
only agreed to an examination of the mountainous part of Syria,
Tarsus, and Adana. In Egypt itself, however, a fresh negotiation
took place, and the offers of the Viceroy, who, in his imagination,
already perceived an Ethiopian gold fleet sailing down the Nile, were
so tempting, that Russegger, the director of this mining expedition,
accepted the invitation to go with a part of the company to Kordofàn
and Fàzogl, in order to open those veins of gold from which the
old Venetian ducats had been extracted.

Russegger ate, drank, and lorded it like a bey, the pay of which rank
was granted to him, with a liberal board suitable to it. He made
use of this profitable opportunity to ramble about Belled-Sudàn,
and to write an expensive journal, which Mohammed Ali (though it
must have been with a heavy heart, no treasure having been raised)
honoured, like a worthy Mecænas, with his especial approbation, so
that the curious world has procured a _cheap_ work, and the author
the acknowledgment due to him in his native country.

The issue, however, of the exploration for the precious metals had
answered so little the expectations of the Basha, that he could not
resolve to pay 30,000 Spanish dollars to the experienced Russegger
to put the mine into operation in Fàzogl, as Boreani, the founder
of his great guns, whom the Basha, from pure mistrust, had added
as an assistant to the before-mentioned expeditition, asked only
15,000 crown thalers (about 3,094_l._ English) as his eventual
reward. Russegger had already, as being a German, many opponents in
the Italian spirits of Alexandria and Káhira, and though Boreani
had far more limited acquirements, yet he knew how to anticipate the
fame of discoveries, by loud boasting, (having gone through a much
more extensive routine of experiments and investigations,) and knew
also how to make the best of them with Mohammed Ali. Nevertheless, the
Basha at last trusted neither, and determined, as soon as possible, to
examine the matter himself. Thus the Viceroy, in the autumn of 1838,
undertook a journey of discovery into the country of the Blacks. There
were also other circumstances which made it appear desirable to
the crafty old man to avoid, for some time, the diplomatists in
Alexandria, and certain pressing questions of theirs. Together with
this bold journey to Fàzogl, Mohammed Ali, in the summer of 1838,
had decided upon a navigation of the White branch of the Nile, with
the same golden object. It was on Oct. 15th of this year, that I,
who had been for some time an anchorite in the deserts near Tura,
and had just returned from a hunt on the ruins of Memphis, saw,
from the left bank of the Nile, Abu Dagn (father of the beard),
as Mohammed Ali was designated by the Fellahs standing near me,
and when closer, pointed out to me as Effendina (his Excellency)
steam past in his yacht, hastening away to those regions I had
just so wished to visit. I had already been informed in Alexandria,
over a glass of wine, by the Frigate-Capitan, Ahmed, (Baumgärtner,
from Switzerland,) of the secret plan of the expedition to the White
Stream (Bah’r el abiàd). I had used every exertion, and strained
every nerve, to be allowed to accompany the voyage of discovery,
but my endeavours were in vain, as my silence could not be confided
in, being a Nazrani,—the expression of the authority most nearly
concerned, as Ahmed informed me, with a shrug of the shoulders.

The scientific researches were entrusted to this Ahmed-Capitan,
who had before accompanied Russegger to Belled-Sudàn, and had just
returned from thence. He set out in August, and, on his arrival
in Sennaar, made, in the same year, an experimental journey up the
White Stream, as far as the lower island of the Shilluks. He died,
however, at Khartum, in the May of the following year—before I
arrived there with my younger brother—deserted by the few Franks
residing there; and even at the very moment of his death, according
to the usual custom of the country, they were dividing his property
among themselves without scruple, and handing over the gleanings to
the Divan to be sold. But the enterprise to examine the Bah’r el
abiàd was delayed only a short time by the death of Baumgärtner,
because the other Frigate-Capitan, Selim, was exceedingly anxious
to gain alone the Turkish laurels. But the prospect of joining
ourselves to the expedition seemed lost to us brothers; for we had
kept this constantly in our eye, and considered it as the extent of
our wishes in Africa, since through Baumgärtner’s influence we
might certainly hope for a _procul a fulmine_.

It was on November the 16th, 1839, that I saw in Khartùm the crimson
streamers of the flotilla of discovery waving up the White Stream. My
heart bled at not being able to accompany it on this occasion. I was
so ill and weak that I was obliged to lean against the door-post,
when my brother, who was equally unwell with myself, rose up slowly
from the divan, and standing behind me, made me laugh again by
shaking a large medicine-bottle, with a long label, and commanding
me, as my physician, to retire with a _Hell el Alle! Riff! Jalla!_
(“Spread sails! North! Forward!”); for we were looking with eager
desire towards our northern forests. This first expedition got as
far as the country of the Elliabs (6° 35″ N. lat.) on January the
27th, 1840. The statements and reports giving 3° 35″ N. lat. as
the point reached, rest either on false astronomical calculations,
or the adventurers wished to acquire the fame of having proceeded
3° further, not supposing that any other expedition would follow
to check them.

Mohammed Ali, being dissatisfied with the result of this expedition,
appointed in the very same year a second voyage of discovery. Various
motives have been alleged for this glorious resolution. He either
wished, with respect to various ulterior views, to have a country
inspected, which had pleased him so well in his journey to Fàzogl,
because, among other advantages, it contains the radius of the circle
of an immeasurable kingdom, whose motto is “_Noli me tangere_;”
or he thought of opening another commercial road in the interior
of Africa. Perhaps his restless and avaricious heart hoped to find
a real golden fleece, with the acquisition of which—like Nero,
who also ordered the sources of the Nile to be sought for—he might
connect the reputation of a lover of science. Nevertheless, he has,
like a true Renard the Fox, scented out his _Malepartus_,[1] even
if he have not gone as a penitent pilgrim to Turkish Rome. There the
report was spread, and believed, that the old Basha would return to
Sennaar. Even Ahmed Basha, the Governor-General of the land of Sudàn,
and the greatest Verres among the Bashas of Mohammed Ali, feared
such an unwelcome visit in Sennaar, after the taking of St. Jean
d’Acre; and the merchants of the place wished it, because money,
by that means, would flow into the country.

This Ahmed Basha had also other reasons, which I will detail
afterwards, for fearing such a change of residence. Nevertheless,
whatever may have been the secret thoughts of Mohammed Ali, a second
expedition was resolved upon in 1840, and this time I was fortunate
enough to take a part in it myself. For seven months I had been
present in the Taka country, in a district previously untrodden by
Europeans, at a campaign opened by Ahmed Basha, against the _free_
people of that district, who are called, as being such, _Asi_. That
_nomen_ is one of the words of the diplomatic language of the day,
not sufficiently expressive, because it means _rebels_ as well as
_free men_, and reminds us besides of Asia and the godlike Asi of the
North. For a long time we had our camp surrounded with palisadoes of
thick palm-trees, under the wonderful granite rocks of Kaffela-el-Lus,
rising up above us like a dome, to the height of more than 3.000
feet, near the village of Kadmir, in the country of the Hallengas,
when orders arrived from Káhira for the second expedition. The Basha
permitted me at last to accompany this highly interesting enterprise;
but my brother, who was his physician in ordinary, could not share in
this favour, on account of the great mortality in the camp. For three
days we considered and wavered, before we resolved upon the journey,
and then we mutually promised not to be always forward in exposing
ourselves to danger: for separation is no trifling matter in these
countries, where, from the frequent diseases, and other misfortunes,
no compassion is to be expected; where neither friendship nor love,
and still less gratitude, is known.

Suliman Kashef, a bold Circassian, who had commanded the first
expedition, and had only been a short time with us in the camp,
was nominated, according to Ahmed Basha’s statement, by Mohammed
Ali himself, as the Commandant, though he is said, in the former
expedition, to have been pushed forward by the mistrustful Ahmed,
in order to take care of his interests, and to keep a watch
on Selim-Capitan, who was sent from Alexandria. To deceive, by
a demonstration, the enemy, the great nation of the Haddendas,
(whose cause must be honoured as a sacred and just one, and whose
great Sheikh, Mohammed Din, had been taken prisoner in a treacherous
manner, and was detained in the camp,) and to open at least the
road, Ahmed Basha marched with us, about two miles and a quarter,
as far as the village of Huàthi, where we had to cross a large
mountainous torrent. The spies sent out by Mohammed Ehle, the Sheikh
of the Hallengas, came back the second time, and declared that the
forest on the other side was free from Arabs (Arab plural Urbàn),
as they judged by the footsteps, which all turned to the north. In
this manner Suliman Kashef and the Shaïgiën leader, Melek Hammed,
and myself, left the camp, which was threatened far and wide by more
than 100,000 hostile lances. Having good guides preceding us, we
pushed through Gohr-el-Gash, (Gohr, pass of the floods, or wild path
of tropical cataracts,) the dry and hitherto sandy bed of which was
full of water, 4,000 feet deep, arising from the periodical rains,
pouring down from the lofty chain of mountains of Makada (Habesh),
that lay before us, and crossed, without any accident, a chain of
sand-banks, which Baraká, the overflowing arm of the Gohr, forms
below Huàthi. This Baraká springs in the north-eastern alpine chain
of Habesh, and, as trustworthy persons, amongst others, the Kadhi
of the Hallengas, have assured us, flows towards the west, through
the mountainous countries of Kostàn and Mària, then separates into
two branches, of which one runs by Suakin eastwards into the Red Sea,
and the other takes its course through Beni-Amer westward, and divides
itself again at Sadderath, a day’s journey to the east of Kaffela,
and then flows into the Gash. On the contrary, this great Gohr comes
from the north-west mountains of Habesh, and pursues its principal
direction through the countries, or mountainous regions of Hamassein,
Dembalass, Belga, and Basa, to the group of rocks of Kaffela-el-Lus,
where it runs to the north, and is said to lose itself, or else it
forms the Mogren, which appears to me also to be a Gohr. These Gohrs
afford sufficient water during the hot season, when their beds seem
quite dry, to the various tribes, with whom we partly came in contact,
and who may be the remains of some ruined nations that have fled
to the mountains. When they require water for themselves and their
cattle, they make in the bed of the Gohr a hole, not very deep, in the
sand, till they come to a layer of blue clay, and they draw the water,
that springs forth immediately, so far down that the animals cannot
reach it, into peculiar round cisterns, which they place close to
the hole, and which form flat basins of half a foot or a foot deep,
and six to ten feet in diameter. These basins are kneaded with clay
to make them solid and compact, and then the cattle drink out of
them. Such watering-places are indispensable near the springs, which,
notwithstanding the basin-shaped depression of this whole country, are
of a great depth, on account of the alluvial soil. In these situations
we find not only birds which are scarcely seen anywhere except in the
neighbourhood of water, but also the elephant, rhinoceros, giraffe,
hyæna, and the lion with his family. They not only leave water
behind in cisterns for this great and dreaded lord of beasts, but
they also draw it afterwards, in order to detain him, that they may
fetch him tender fresh calves-flesh from their houses, which is here
his favourite food, as I convinced myself in Beshum, in the country
of the Haddendas. It is a fable that the elephant dislikes the camel:
I saw them both at Hauàthi drinking in the middle of the day, close
to one another, out of two different holes. The elephant is said to
be angry with the people if he find the cistern, from which he is
accustomed to drink, choked up with earth by the wind or animals,
and to attack the nearest village (as was the case some time since
in Hauàthi), to overthrow everything he meets, to clear out the
water-vessels, and not even to disdain the corn he may happen to find.

Ahmed Basha could not spare any troops for our protection, on account
of his being pressed so closely by the enemy. There were about sixty
of us, including the mounted halberdiers of Suliman Kashef, who
carried arms, besides unarmed servants, male and female slaves. The
excellent light cavalry of the Shaïgiës, under the command of
the bold Melek Mahmud, accompanied us only a short distance. These
Shaïgiës are not at all of Arabian origin; they call themselves
“Warriors of old of the soil,” and are still held memorable, even
as knights, through their really daring and adventurous plundering
excursions in these parts.

We worked our way over heavy and untrodden roads, whilst the
Shaïgiës wound right and left through the thicket, like snakes, and
covered our flanks. We passed through the Haba (forest; in this place,
swampy forest), which it is well known is so dreaded by the Turks,
and fortunately reached the high swollen Atbara near Gos Rajeb after
three days’ and three nights’ hard riding, having been obliged to
leave behind many animals, especially horses, which had fallen from
exhaustion on the bad roads, and from the want of sufficient fodder. I
perceived that the Turks congratulated themselves on leaving behind
them their Silva Hercynia, in which Mohammed Din with his Haddendas,
though only armed with lances, had twice defeated Kurdshid Basha.

In vain we looked about here for the ships, which, in case of an
unfortunate issue of the campaign, were ordered from Berber to
communicate with the shore; but there was not a plank to be seen,
as the requisite northern winds had not set in to enable them to sail
against the strong current of Atbara. No sooner had the haughty Sheikh
Hadàb remarked this than he, who had strongly asserted that the ships
would be here, looked about very uneasily, and slipped away from the
side of Suliman Kashef into a bush, giving me a significant look as
he passed, and had nearly disappeared when Suliman Kashef took up
his long gun. The Basha had but lately, from his own absolute power,
advanced him to be the great Sheikh of Sogilàb, and by that means
had gained partisans in the family. He had accompanied us as a guide
from the commencement of our journey to this place in a very dirty
dress, and had all along assured us that we should have a strong
encampment of his Kabyles at our side, although he had only provided
some bread, but no fodder for the beasts, which were completely
disabled and obliged to live merely on the trees, and with which
we were obliged to cross a rapid stream. As he had been created a
Sheikh by the Basha (Sheikh betal Divan), he was exceedingly hated
by the two other Kabyles of Sogilàb; and I, who _knew_ him well,
watched him, lest he should play us any treacherous trick. He was
soon afterwards shot with a pistol, in the middle of his people,
in the village of Sogilàb, by one of our Magrabis (Mogrebins),
who had been sent for the purpose, without his death being avenged
or the Magrab being punished by the Basha.

On a signal-gun being repeated, a small boat appeared, similar in
size and construction to a moderate fishing-cauf. We saw men plunge
from the left shore into the flood, and this cauf became animated
with human beings from Gos Rajeb: soon afterwards the bold swimmers
landed, having been carried here and there by the current. A strong
arm grasped, at my feet, the root of the tree affording me shade:
“Oh, uahet sheïtàn keweiss!” (“Oho, a fine ghost!”) said
my huntsman Sale, whilst he held my pipe under my nose, and gave
a horse-laugh. A woman’s breast, just disclosed from under her
ringlets, and confiding in heaven, appeared first on the top of
the waters, and then dived back again. Shaking off my lassitude,
I threw myself upon the ground to offer an assisting hand to the
poor creature. A nut-brown Amazon, of the clearest complexion,
a true picture of most luxuriant youthful strength and vigour,
stood naked up to her dripping rahat (girdle of strips of leather)
upon the end of my carpet. Throwing off from her head the Ferda
(a long cotton cloth with ornamental borders, worn by all these
people of both sexes, and exactly the same as those found in the
Egyptian tombs), she smoothed it, slung it round her hips over
the right shoulder and the head, soundly rated Sale, and then ran
away laughing because I understood her Aggem, (heathen language,
or rather what is not Arabic,) uttered by her deep hoarse voice, as
little as she my Arabic _cur, quomodo, quando_. Recovering from this
unexpected fright, I followed her, and learned that these Bishari had
come from the Kabyles of Wood Naga, on the Atbara, for the purpose
of conveying across our cattle. The wildly beautiful damsel had
grown up from a child in this employment, which was her greatest
pleasure. Stronger and bolder than any of her nearest relations,
she had lost her voice by lying in the damp in her night-quarters
on the shore, expecting for some time the retreat of the army, said
to be nearly annihilated, for the sake of the profit (four piastres
or girsh, about one shilling,) on every camel and horse.

The old boat, which had been concealed out of fear of the rapacious
Haddendas, and had become leaky, was drained of the water, after it
became certain that there were no other vessels near. This tribe of
the Haddendas is always at war with all the neighbouring races. The
Haddendas, whose territory here borders on the right shore of the
Atbara, above the equally marauding Anafidabs, swim over in a small
daring body, take very coolly the vessels from the left side which
are to transport the people waiting on the right shore to pillage and
murder, and then hasten back with the booty so much the more securely.

Suliman Kashef invited me to cross over immediately with him, but
I could not venture to entrust my collections and camels to the
thoughtless and timid servants; I therefore remained behind, and
by his directions ordered durra, the corn of this country, for the
exhausted animals, and bread, or rather flour, and meat as supper
for myself and my men. We had already, at Gohr el Gash, beaten the
camels to make them go into the water, and yet there were others
sent before to set them a good example; but here it was far worse,
for there was a depth of from forty to fifty feet to swim in.

The beautifully hunchbacked camels from Beni-Amer were abused as being
hashim (stupid, silly), because they feared the water. Water-skins
were inflated and fastened to the breasts of these animals, which
were driven before us in a drove, with as much trouble as those that
bore burdens and were tired. The guides, holding the long halters
or ropes, plunged into the Atbara before them, and curses, cries,
pushes, and the unmerciful Nabùt (a stick four feet long and an
inch thick) assisted in sending the camels after them. Several of
the animals, and also three or four horses, from Taka, which had
no opportunity of learning to swim, for the beasts at the time of
the inundation are driven into the Gallas, or elevated parts, were
drowned, without their loss being mourned, except by the owners. On
the march to Taka, we had here in the month of March nearly ridden
through, dryfooted, on pebbly ground, where we now, in September,
found the Atbara a powerful mountain stream. A motley mixture were
we, of about 20,000 men, white and black cavalry (Turks, Magrabis,
and Shaïgiës), dromedaries, and pack-camels, and more than 4,000
asses for the infantry, which, when they heard the numerous hyænas or
lions prowling about their confined quarters, struck up a horrible
concert. Two field-pieces, moreover, alternately drawn by mules
and camels trained for the purpose, chests containing 3,000 axes
for cutting through the forests, and a quantity of powder upon the
camels, which, though piled up very equally between numerous fires,
“Alla Kerim,” did not trouble us in the least. Yet I must not here
speak of that campaign, and narrate the scenes and recollections that
obtrude themselves on my mind, but I intend to publish them as they
are set down in the journal I had with me on that occasion. Fodder and
provisions arrived as I had ordered; that portion of the train which
still remained on this side commended my advice, and determined, as
darkness was coming on, to pass the night on the right shore. After
I had discovered a clear place quite close, we left the bush and lay
down there, to be secure, and to protect ourselves from being struck
with a lance to the ground before we could even fire a shot. In
a short time several little fires blazed, and there was cooking,
roasting, and baking of pancakes and bread. I slept, in the meantime,
behind the barricade of my chests, in order to keep watch during the
night with the Circassians and Turks. Notwithstanding we were all
very tired, I was fully persuaded that those Muslims would watch,
as they had brought with them as slaves some pretty brown girls,
whom they had purchased in the camp of Kassela, out of the booty of
Mount Basa. The following day we crossed over to the other side. My
Hamàl, or camel-servant, Hammed, took his great favourite camel
himself by the rope and swam before it; but he soon returned back
to me disconsolate, for his murkeb (ship), as he called it, caught
by the strong current, had broken the cord, which was made of the
bark of a tree, just as he had found a favourable resting-place upon
a sand-bank close by. Nevertheless, he trusted every thing to the
size and sagacity of his beast, and immediately disappeared from
my side. On the following evening I saw him again in Gos Rajeb,
but without murkeb. I voluntarily belonged to the last party that
crossed,—two old Turks, a Kurd, and myself with my servants. On
the moment of pushing off, some Arabs sprang on my chests, but the
tall stout Kurd, whom Suliman Kashef had sent over to me as a Charon
that might be entirely depended upon, struck two of them into the
water at the same time with his oar as if with a flyflap, by which
the miserable skiff was nearly upset. At the head of this boat sat
the Kurd in great state, in shirt and breeches; on the luggage was
enthroned Sale from Mahass, his ferda thrown loose over his shoulders,
enjoying himself on merissa (a kind of beer). At my feet squatted
the Turks upon the wet planks, in full dress, with heavy pistols
in their girdles; behind them, on the brim of the obtuse stern,
I had my place, dressed in a light gauze shirt, so that if the wind
came on and threatened to drown the others, I might not, in case of
necessity, be looked upon and seized as a raft. Certainly this Kurd,
who was very much relied on for his skill on the water, had assured
me, _on his head_, that I might, in case of an accident, ride upon
him, as upon a river buffalo (gamùss el Bah’r—hippopotamus);
but I preferred to depend on myself, and the more so, because the
Atbara is not broader than the Rhine at Bonn. The Turks said their
prayers, shook their heads involuntarily at every stroke of the oar,
to which they calmly resigned themselves as their directing fate;
for this vibrating motion of the turbans, which are set generally
on decayed vertebral columns, always takes place, especially in
steam-vessels. My corpulent hippopotamus, the Kurd, laughed and made
fun at them whilst moving round the sand-banks and along the steep
broken shore, without their answering him a single word.

Gos Rajeb means the Hill of Rajeb, from a Sheikh or saint, who first
settled here. Though only appearing to our eyes a village, yet it
is esteemed in this country as an important commercial city, the
inhabitants of which are partly merchants from the Nile, and partly
Nomads of the family of the Shukuriës, Bisharis, and others. The
latter have renounced the rights of their race (gens, genus), and
left their peculiar alliance (Kabyle, from Kab’l); being, like
other wild animals who have been caught, dressed and also protected
by the halo of their founder. But their Sheikh asserts that the old
stock of the inhabitants is an indigenous people of the soil from
the earliest times (min aslu).

I lay there, towards evening, upon an angareb (a convenient bedstead,
made of thongs of camel-skin twisted cross or check wise), and looked
back towards the two rocky hills of Herrèrem, on the other side of
the river, where last night might have proved a bad one to us. These
rocks with their magnificent ruins had deceived us brothers before,
in the same manner as they did the learned Burckhardt, for the here
commonly called “Kenisse betal Kuf’r” (Church of Kafirs or
Unbelievers) composes chief of the fore part, so that we climbed up
with much labour. Moreover, the City of the Nazrani (Christians), said
(according to the statement of the Sheikh who accompanied me at this
time, by command of the Basha, from Gos Rajeb,) to have been larger
than Masr (Káhira), might have been very extensive, as I convinced
myself by the tombs, and especially the foundation-walls of cities,
and burnt masses on the north-east of Herrèrem; so that the word
Kenisse, which is here only applied to a Christian monument, is not
without significance in the mouth of the people. The market, as we see
at the time of the greatest height of the water, points also directly
to this uninhabited spot, as an ancient emporium between the tribes
of the inner countries and the Red Sea. On our present arrival at the
Atbara, I had remarked, about an hour’s walk to the south of this
rock, some three hundred paces from the right bank, not only tombs
and tiles, but also a tolerably large though low shelf of rocks,
of an oblong form, the sides of which shewed niches and cavities
seemingly made by the hands of men. I had just tied my obstinate
dromedary to a tree to graze, and had turned my back to him, when
he broke loose and started after the team, which had trotted before;
whereupon, the completely exhausted Archæologist no longer surveyed
his little Acropolis without pillars and temples, but ran after him,
and forgot everything.

Suliman Kashef, reclining also on an angareb, overhung with a
magnificent Persian carpet, presided like an incipient Basha, over
a divan placed at his feet, of mats made from palm-leaves, on which
there sat some inhabitants of Gos, and the neighbouring Sheikhs. A
silver drinking-cup passed from his hand to mine, and again to his,
whilst the Sheikhs were looking as if interrogating one another,
and my Circassian neighbour became more and more talkative. We
drank wine which a merchant of my acquaintance had brought with
other provisions thus far, though he did not dare to press forward
to the camp. “Dauer!” (medicine), said the Kashef, with averted
countenance, and his face of the colour of japan, when a fellow,
attempting to be witty, shewed a desire to drink with him. In the
very same moment, he exclaimed “Shuff el Marassin” (Look at the
pimp! or bad fellow.) The Haddendas announced their tardy arrival
at the Atbara, by setting fire to some hundred tokuls (plural
tàkela,—straw-huts formed like a cross with pointed roofs),
which Ahmed Basha had ordered to be erected for the cavalry.

The further narration of the journey to Khartum (to which place we
arrived in a westerly direction across the country of ancient Meroë,
and through the wide extended, treeless, but excellent pasture-land
of Butàna and over Halfaia,) I withhold for the present for the
description of my later expedition to the much spoken of, but
hitherto only visited by me, Mandera, Nasùb, Kheli, &c., in the
south-eastern part of Meroë. In Halfaia, which may be called a city
from the castles of earth or clay (Kasr, called by the Baràbras Hosh
a castle) of poor petty kings (Moluk, sing. Melek or Mek), who are
robbed by the Turks, and extremely badly, or not at all pensioned,
Suliman Kashef left us in order to cross over to the neighbouring
Kárreri to see his family. So also did Melek Hammed, who was
generally reckoned the bravest among the so-called Shaïgiës. He
was the son of Wu-Mahmùd, the last king or toparch of Dongola,
who was murdered by the Memlukes (Mamelik). We were great cronies,
and I was sorry for him when the Basha sent him away from the camp;
because, by his unfortunate attempt to connect himself and the men
under his command with the well-known Nim’r, he had given grounds
for being dreaded the most of all the Shaïgiës. It is incredible
how extensive the knowledge of this robber-king was with respect to
the details of the topography of the whole country,: these are, as
it were, family secrets, which are only disclosed, as a particular
favour, over the goblet.

The sight of the Nile had already rejoiced my heart at Halfaia,
but this was still more the case at Hubba, opposite Khartùm, where
I became accurately acquainted with the border of the blue river. I
learnt to value its extraordinary height so much the more, because
it promised to be exceedingly favourable to our voyage of discovery
to the level of the White Stream. We fired off our muskets, and let
the camels lie down, when our shots were answered from the windows
of the divan, or the house of the Basha. The Chasnadar (treasurer
and steward of the Basha) had recognized me with a telescope, and
had sent me immediately a comfortable vessel belonging to the great
man. Every one hurried to Hubba to receive intelligence from the seat
of war; and it was plain to be seen that the people would rather have
heard of Ahmed Basha’s being with the devil than coming to Khartùm.

The east wind soon brought us to the other side. I, for my part,
slipped away under the narrow trellised windows of the Harim,
where I heard women’s voices calling “Hakim Bashi” “Hakim
Bashi,” to the lower part of the great earthern palace, where they
pulled me in through the window—so that I had not to make a great
circuit—on account of the water which had overflowed. If I was not
exactly among old friends, yet I was again among acquaintances who,
at least, appeared to be pleased at seeing me, and who, with one
voice, asked after the Hakim Bashi Yussuf, my brother, who was very
much missed in Khartùm, and whom they were accustomed to see always
with me. But there sat again Suliman Kashef behind the wine-flask
of the Basha, in the jolliest humour, laughing and boasting what he
had done in the meantime, and yet that he had arrived before me. A
profuse breakfast was served, at which also Selim-Capitan was present,
who was forced to drink some wine. The great guns were fetched, and,
being placed at the windows, thundered out the announcement that
it was a Turkish rejoicing. In order also to deceive the people,
orders were given to fire the cannons, which was done without delay,
we being looked upon as messengers of victory. Abdalla Effendi, the
Wakil or deputy of the governor, came in at this alarum, greeted us,
and wished us joy of the victory at Taka; but, as a worthy Moslem,
he soon withdrew his potent nose, that he might escape for a time
the scandal of drinking wine. At last there appeared on the scene
another godly person, of the purest breed, whose heart burned to hear
tidings of the Effendi—whom may the Prophet protect! (Ahmed Basha
also bears, like all great dignitaries, the title of Effendina,
in Turkish Effendim or excellency, and the great Basha, Mohammed
Ali, is then for distinction called Effendina Kebir.) This was the
great Kadi and Bishop of Belled-Sudan, who was the only one before
whom the Basha, who was just of as pure blood, rose from the divan,
and permitted to sit on his right hand close to his ear. The great
man, as the master, having once taken, remained in his seat, which
looked towards the principal door of the hall, and allowed him to
place his legs under him conveniently. Turkish etiquette is carried
to a great extent, and requires a kind of study.

We two slightly saluted each other by bending forward the right
shoulder, because the Basha, shortly before the march to Taka, had
called me and my brother his right and left eye, which saying he was
obliged to repeat here, in order to excuse his friendship towards
Kafirs. Conscious of his dignity, the high-priest sat down upon the
place of honour in the corner of the reception-room, at the right
hand as you enter. In the great audience-hall of the Basha, this
elevated seat of honour is over the divàn, covered with a red or
blue velvet cloth with gold or silver embroidery, and deeply fringed,
with low pillows set round it; but there are days when scarcely a
Mohammed Ali, or the Sultan himself, is allowed to sit upon this,
or any of the seats in the public divàn. The word Divàn signifies
not only the broad sofa running round the wall, or the sitting of a
ministerial council, but every sitting on business transactions and
conversation in council, as well as the hall and even the building
in which this takes place, and also the reception-room in private
houses. The servants in attendance had been dismissed, but the Kadhi,
who being a Magarb, knew wine, and had himself in our house praised
the Spanish as the best. He had, moreover, not disdained a cordial
made of the same by my brother, which he took as a stomachic medicine,
but pretended now not to know anything of the new Turkish labour in
the vineyard of the Lord in _conspectu omnium_, and only gazed upon
the Chasnadàr with his cunning eyes. The latter, a Circassian, who
had grown up in the service of Ahmed, went into a room close by, and
brought the poor man a golden or gilded kupa with a cover; whereupon
the grand inquisitor sipped his refreshing draught with much _goût_,
carefully covered again the vessel and placed it close by him at the
window. The Chasnadàr, who, close to me, was arranging himself in
his place, said, in his excitement, much louder than was necessary,
“el Spitzbub kebir,” and clapped his hands for the servants. The
Kadhi Kebir had received this name at the suggestion of the Basha,
when the latter, just as the Kadhi left him, asked us how a misaur is
called by the Nemzas; and my brother immediately answered Spitzbub
(rogue), which those close around the Basha received with real
ecstasy. However, Misaur means properly a talkative fellow,—_ergo_,
a liar and knave;—Faki, or Fakir misaur, denotes a hypocrite or
lying priest, the number of whom here is legion in proportion to
the population, by whom the Faki (plural Fokra) are not generally
held in esteem. The Kadhi did not concern himself about this title
of honour, but, with the utmost tranquillity, drank his champagne
out of the ciborium, in pious draughts.

Nevertheless every thing was soon prepared for the departure of the
expedition. The north and north-east winds, although not constant,
as is usually the case at the beginning of November, and which
generally commence here after the rainy season, had invited us for
a long time to take advantage of the high water, that threatened
to engulf Khartùm at the end of September from both sides of the
river. Nothing was wanting except the arrival of the two French
engineers, who squatted two-and-forty days in Korusko, because Arnaud
would not pay temporarily, out of his own pocket, for the hire of
some camels, which they required over the number allowed to them in
the Firman or teskerè, to convey their baggage through the desert.

Sabatier, the younger of the Frenchmen, confessed to us, without
disguise, that he, for his part, could not have paid for the camels,
as he had already borrowed money from his colleague, Arnaud,
before they reached Korusko; and he accused the latter of having
unjustifiably delayed his journey, for the purpose of putting
off the expedition till the following year, and to pocket the
pay of a bimbaschi (major) during the interval, in spite of their
beards. This is quite consistent with the character drawn of him
by his own countrymen and the Franks. Eternal regret for the lost
forty-two days! Without this delay, our voyage might have had quite
a different result.

[Illustration: 1 General form of the Tokuls in Bellet-Sudàn.

2 Tokuls of the Shilluks.

3 Tokuls of the Dinkas.

4 Tokuls of the Nuèhrs.

5 Summer-huts of the Kèks (pastoral dwellings of reeds).

6 Sleeping stall.

7 Tokuls of the Keks, also partly of the Bòhrs.

8 Tokuls of the Elliàbs.

9 Tokuls in the kingdom of Bàri (of the Bàris, Chiers, and Lièns).]




                              CHAPTER II.

COMPOSITION OF THE EXPEDITION. — AHMED BASHA; HIS CHARACTER. —
SCENE BETWEEN MOHAMMED ALI AND SHEIKH SULIMAN OF ROSSÈRES. — SLAVE
TRADE AND SLAVE HUNTS. — SULIMAN EFFENDI, THE SICILIAN POISONER. —
DEATH OF MUSTAPHA BEY. — VAISSIÈRE AND THE EUROPEANS IN EGYPT. —
PUCKLER MUSCAU. — AHMED BASHA’S WIFE. — DESCRIPTION OF
KHARTÙM. — BLUE AND WHITE NILE. — DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.


Khartùm, 23 Nov. 1840. The engineers have long since arrived, and
at last, in spite of all the assumption and threats of Arnaud, whose
intention of wilfully delaying the expedition could not be denied, and
the motive of which is sufficiently shewn by Sabatier’s explanation,
the Turks themselves determined to set out to-day. They were impelled
to this activity by Ahmed Basha’s having given the strictest orders
to make all despatch, “so that another expedition chargeable solely
to the treasury of this place might not be necessary, as was perhaps
the intention of the Franks.”

The equipment consists of four dahabiës from Káhira (vessels with
two masts and cabins, about one hundred feet long, and twelve to
fifteen broad), each with two cannon; three dahabiës from Khartùm
(one of which has also two cannon); then two kaiàss (ships of
burden with one mast), and a sándal (skiff) for communication:
the crews are composed of two hundred and fifty soldiers (negroes,
Egyptians, and Syrians), and one hundred and twenty sailors and
mariners from Alexandria, Nubia, and the land of Sudan. Suliman
Kashef, although without rank in the army, commands the troops by
the absolute will of the Basha, as he had done before in a Chasua
at Taka. Selim-Capitan from Crete has the direction of the ships and
properly of the whole expedition;[2] the second captain is Feïzulla
Effendi from Constantinople. The other officers are two Kurds, a
Russian, an Albanian, and a Persian; the Europeans are Arnaud and
Sabatier as engineers, Thibaut as collector, and I as an independent
passenger at my own expense. Arnaud has yielded also to circumstances,
notwithstanding his _parole d’honneur_ that he would not go with us,
unless his salary for ten or twelve months were paid beforehand. The
ships are furnished with ten months’ provisions, and six months’
pay has been advanced to preserve in some measure from perishing of
hunger the families of the soldiers left behind, which from the low
price of female slaves were numerous. The officers and the other
persons holding appointments have received the Taïm belonging to
them in money (the different nations according to their grade), owing
to the want of rice, wheat, lupins, lentils, onions, butter and oil,
meat and bread, so that they might make what purchases they pleased,
or stow it in their kammer (money-pouch) according to the manner
of oriental misers, and let the neighbouring stomach feed on common
soldier’s fare, and console itself with the prospect of good days
to come. An indemnification has been given in tobacco and onions,
even to the common people, for the articles of the taïm, deficient
in the victualling magazine, which could not well be realized until
they arrived at Belled-Sudàn.

Ahmed Basha takes very good care of his soldiers, according to Turkish
notions, and pays them regularly, because his very existence, which
is menaced on every side, and the realization of his ambitious plans,
depend upon their fidelity.

Regiments of black slaves, being the born enemies of the Arabs, are
said to support him more resolutely than all his other troops; and,
as he affirms, in case of necessity, they feed on grass, and have
performed miracles of bravery in his presence, in Mora (the Morea)
and in the Hejaz. On this account, the idea struck him in Taka of
making up an amount of 5,000 slaves, and allotting this duty _pro
rata_ among the superior Sheïkhs and officers. On this occasion,
ten slaves were imposed even on Selim-Capitan, which he was obliged
to furnish, although he was not in Ahmed Basha’s service.

I first gained the dangerous confidence of this man in its full extent
by the following means:—He found himself here entirely alone, as if
in banishment; and when we were conversing about the people and the
country, with its abundant resources which were not taken advantage
of, and how Kurdshid Basha had conducted affairs here, and dragged
everything to the devouring Masr, and left nothing remaining to him,
he wished to know my opinion. I pointed out to him repeatedly, and
without reserve, the independence of Egypt, and the plundering system
carried on by the government of that country and—my conviction being
that he should follow the example of the Basha—I sought to instigate
him to render himself independent at the head of this oppressed and
discontented people, and to call himself Sultan of Nigritia. It was
clear to me that this was not the first time since our acquaintance
that he had brooded over the idea, which he opposed with seemingly
plausible, but long-considered scruples. His sleepless nights, during
which old Deli Mustapha was obliged to make coffee for him four or
five times, were now explained; but I did not at that time know that
he was mortally hated there, where he believed he was beloved, and
that in spite of his fine speeches, he was called the executioner of
the Land of Sudàn. I might therefore awaken in the country, from the
great aversion of the grandees of the place to him, the desire for
a declaration of independence, but never for Ahmed himself. I will
bring forward some examples from the conduct of this execrable man,
to shew how the Turks _make their countries happy_.

Ahmed Basha was brought as a Memluke (white slave) from Circassia
to Egypt, and sold to Mustapha Bey, sister’s son of Mohammed
Ali’s first wife. He became the barber of the Bey, and afterwards,
when his own beard grew, was appointed an officer in the army. He
accompanied the campaigns in the Morea, Hejàz and Syria. He
brought intelligence of the victory from St. Jean d’Acre with
incredible celerity to Egypt, and is said to have been attacked
with hemorrhage, as he was delivering the despatches to Mohammed
Ali. He afterwards became war-minister, but was removed in six
months from this important post, not on account of any incapacity,
but from his self-willed disposition, inveterate obstinacy, and
excessive spirit of opposition to all the grandees, and even to
the viceroy himself, who might have been pleased on the whole with
his energetic government. His iron arm threatened even to bend the
Franks in the Egyptian service under Turkish despotism, and he had
already brought the consuls into a good train, when one of them
declared that the Turks had no code of laws, that the Koran could
not be considered as such, and that the _employés_ being Europeans
could not be subjected to arbitrary power. For a time he remained
without an appointment in Káhira, till he was sent with the 8th
regiment to Belled-Sudan. For a year he governed in common with
Kurdshid Basha, during which time he carried his intrigues so far,
that the Governor, who was generally beloved, was recalled, and sent
as Commandant to Adana in Syria, whilst the former received his
post as Governor-General with increased power. Here he preserves,
indeed, his own due respect and that of his people, in the hope of
being made the future Sultan of the natives; yet, by his measures,
he has not only trifled away the love of those men who are so easily
led by their chiefs, but also completely cut off his return to Egypt,
where, in the meantime, a book of his crimes has been opened.

He is a man of fifty years of age, though in appearance he seems
scarcely forty; large and strongly built, with regular, handsome
and expressive features, generally wearing a serious look, though he
laughs a good deal. Whilst he is laughing, which is at his command at
any time, we may often observe in his handsome countenance traces of
agitation, betraying other thoughts than those inspired by the gaiety
of the moment. His physiognomy becomes still more disfigured by his
outbursts of wrath, which are not rare, when his true character
is more rapidly developed in the working of his features than by
all the chiselling and carving of the Gorgon’s head. His blue
eyes stare and sparkle in his deadly pale countenance, and his
inmost soul reflects itself in its real light, at this moment, as
if in a mirror—it is the face of a tiger. Every one, seeing him
for the first time, finds him a handsome man, but with something
inexpressibly gloomy in his look, and in the melancholy features
shaded by a dark beard. Ahmed Basha is a true economist in every
thing, and boasts of his parsimony, (which, however, unfortunately
degenerates into avarice,) saying, it is extremely necessary for
him;—that he requires a good deal of money for present occasions,
and will want more for the future;—and that Mohammed Ali has
only become great through his gold;—every means, therefore, is
justifiable by which he can acquire wealth. His table is sparingly
served; he does not touch the sweet favourite dishes of the Turks,
as being fit for women and not for men; he hates the Turks and calls
them _asses_. Therefore he is always complaining that he stands alone,
that everything presses upon him, which is the truth, because every
one fears him and dares not speak. For his whole large establishment,
with the exception of the Harim, _one sheep_ is killed daily;
whereas, on the contrary, Kurdshid had twelve or fourteen killed;
and what was not consumed was divided amongst the poor starving
people—a custom more worthy of a civil and military Governor of
all Belled-Sudàn; especially as the Turks and wealthy Arabs—the
latter, however, seldom, partly from fear of the former—feed the
poor abundantly. Besides money was obliged to be sent very often from
Egypt to Belled-Sudàn for the support of the troops; moreover, all
the gold which was drawn from Fàzogle and Kordofàn, and coined in
Kahira, was paid; for the preceding Governor complained continually of
his empty chest. Ahmed Basha knew how to provide himself with gold,
since he would never lose sight of his own interest. I heard from
him in Taka of the bombarding and surrender of St. Jean d’Acre,
which intelligence was kept secret. He feared for his position;
and his plan of making himself independent received a severe blow,
since Ibrahim Basha might suddenly march with his disposable army,
and attempt a diversion on this side.

The just Governor sent to his dear sovereign 4,000 purses, the surplus
of the treasury; and to shew the good old man what his Ahmed could
do in the country, 1500 gold okien as a present. Besides this, he
had had considerable expenses, had paid one-half of the soldiers
more than Kurdshid Basha, had purchased thousands of camels and
asses for the Chasua, for the purpose of transport, &c. One would
conclude from this, that under this Basha, a complete reform of the
system of government, and a flourishing condition of the land, had
rendered these supplies of money and gold possible, but the surplus
must be sought for in other causes than in the prosperous state of
the country.

If the direct taxes be very irregularly paid through the conduct of
the Kashefs (plur. Koshàf), Ahmed Basha has a number of other means
by which to squeeze gold out of the people. Inheritances, where the
testator is set aside, and, if necessary, some crime fixed on him;
despotic dictation of tributes in money or gold; farming monopolies;
selling fruits from the Shona, or the farms of the Basha; net-proceeds
of the slave-hunts, &c.

In selling the fruits and farming the monopolies, the price is
generally raised only in appearance by accomplices, and then in a
very courteous manner the affair is hinted first to one and then
to the other, who, in gratitude for the gracious punishment, raise
their hands to their mouth and head, well knowing that even the
latter belongs to the Basha, who commonly presides over such forced
broker’s business.

It is not a very rare thing for Sheikhs who cannot raise the quantum
of gold so arbitrarily imposed, to breathe out their souls under the
Nabút. A favourite plan of his, pursuing the same aim, and having
an apparent legal ground in itself, is the arrangement of his iron
will according to the investigations to be directed towards powerful
Kashefs, who do not deliver to him the half of their plunder, or
towards honest officials, whom he hates, and whose places he has
already beforehand sold to others, when he is certain of the share
of the precious gain, which is made on collecting the Tulba. These
profitable investigations are especially directed against officers
who have the management of the accounts. A fresh revision of their
accounts, which perhaps were delivered twelve to fifteen years ago,
was entered upon for the second time, and, as he partly made it
alone, or by his creatures appointed and assigned for that purpose,
or when he thought it advisable, he ordered a bastinadoing for life
or death, it has never happened that the people selected for payment
were found guiltless.

Enormous sums have been squeezed out in this barbarous manner, and
hundreds of men plunged into misery and extreme poverty; for Ahmed
was not contented with falsifying the accounts of years long past,
and having them liquidated.—No; but he punished them also for their
falsely alleged embezzlements. Not one of these unfortunate creatures
had the least thing left to him, except a miserable dress—everything
belonging to them was sold—house, garden, slaves, clothes, kitchen
utensils, in short, to repeat the word, everything—even the most
necessary carpets and coverings for repose. The proceeds flowed into
the treasury of the Divan.

It is true, that nearly all the Turkish officials are cheats and
extortioners, only seeking to enrich themselves in every possible
way, and to defraud the State, as even the best conduct affords no
security for the duration of their appointments; but let justice
be done to them, and do not, because the Basha gives the order,
find the culprits guilty. Generally, the sum pretended to have been
embezzled, was twice or four times as large as the whole property
of the official. In this case, everything was taken that there was
to take, and if the man were wanted, he remained in his service, but
received for his pay scarcely as much as would provide him sparingly
with durra; the remaining part, being deducted on account of his debt,
flowed into the treasury.

In other instances the accomplices were ordered to replace the
deficient amount. Among these were reckoned those who perhaps formerly
were his superior officers, or his colleagues, and fellow-collectors;
and this judgment always followed, when Copts were his accomplices. In
the whole Egyptian kingdom the Copts (Kopt, or Oept, as they do
not pronounce the K to our ear,) are condemned to be the Mallems
(scribes). The Basha cherishes a cordial hatred of these Nazrani,
partly because he detests their cringing servility and hypocrisy,
which are carried to perfection, and looks upon them, on this account,
with the same contempt as he does on the Greeks and Jews. Many of
them are hanged, merely to spread terror.

Not long ago the following incident occurred: a Coptic Mallem was
convicted in the manner stated above, of having purloined 1000
thalers[3] or pillar dollars at different times. He received 1000
blows, and all his things were sold, the produce of which covered the
sum due, leaving a few hundred dollars over. The unfortunate fellow,
after this fearful punishment, was thrown, more dead than alive, into
chains, and they left him to his fate, without sending him a surgeon
to afford him the least alleviation, by attending to his severe
wounds. The Basha went on a journey; his wakil, Fàragh Effendi,
an Abyssinian, who had been formerly a slave to the Spanish Colonel,
Seguerra, in Alexandria, took pity on him, and sent for the surgeon,
Sulimon Effendi (De Pasquali, a native of Palermo). He passed three
months in prison in this frightful condition, when Fàragh Effendi
thought he might solicit the Basha to pardon the Copt. The answer
of Ahmed Basha was to this effect: “The Nazrani must be hanged,
to serve as an example.”

Everyone at Khartùm was astonished, and the more so, because no
one doubted his innocence. A gibbet was quickly erected at the
market-place, and on the following morning the unfortunate creature
was hanging,—as Faragh Effendi told me the story,—with a placard,
written in large letters, on his back, and his feet scarcely half a
foot from the ground. All the Copts, notwithstanding the calamity,
were exceedingly rejoiced that he had not professed Islamism before
his death, but had died stedfastly as a Nazrani. The Turks and Arabs
are just as strenuous in their exertions to make proselytes as the
expensive European missionaries, without immediately descending in
thunder with their Prophet, as with a _Deus ex machiná_, from high
Olympus. The cruelty of this Basha is said to have gone so far in
Dongola that he wanted to force the son of a Copt to witness the
execution of the sentence of death on his innocent father; but,
luckily, the father died the night before.

In Khartùm, the young Sheikh Effendi (mallem, or Turkish scribe)
received an order to revise the account of the Nasir of the linen
Shunah. He, being yet a novice in these affairs, and not knowing
that the word of the Basha “to investigate” must be always
connected with “guilty,” goes to him, and says that it is quite
correct; but the latter quickly sends the good youth back again
to make another investigation. Sheikh Effendi returns, and says,
that the “man is innocent:” the Basha calls him eshek (ass),
sends him a very large and long piece of cotton-stuff as the standard
measure, and commands him to make good the account, or else he would
indemnify himself out of the Sheikh’s own property. Sheikh Effendi
was therefore forced to take this great Top Homàss as the measure,
when of course an enormous deficit appeared; for, amongst the goods
sent in by several tribes of the Arabs, are included woollen stuffs
made in the country for the dress of soldiers, for sails, tents,
&c., and there is mostly a difference of one to two ells (drà,
arm’s-length) between these pieces. This was now extended back to
all the years in which the fellow had been Nasir, and the man was
entirely ruined.

Except the punishment of beating to death, which causes as little
sensation here as in Russia, public executions are not so frequent
in Khartùm itself, where his presence alone creates terror; but
the secret ones are performed without the cord and the sword. The
following may serve as a proof of the condition of this grievously
afflicted country:—When Mohammed Ali was travelling over Sennaar,
the old Sheikh Suliman of Rossères, the most esteemed and influential
man of Gesira (island, Sennaar) was forced to pay his respects to
him in the city of Rossères. He came with a retinue of his Hammeghs,
dressed simply in a black ferda; and, having stepped into the tent of
the great Basha, he greeted him, and seated himself, without being
invited, on the divàn close to him. The viceroy, beside himself
with anger at this freedom, did not speak a word to him; but, after
a short time, through his dragoman Abdin Bey, bade him depart. The
old Basha told our Ahmed Basha, when Sheikh Suliman should again
appear, to _stand_ before him, in order to instil somewhat more
respect into this old obstinate fellow. Suliman was summoned, and
Ahmed entered into a conversation with him intentionally, standing
before the viceroy, to prevent him from sitting down before the latter
had assigned him the proper place by motioning with his hand to do
so. The crafty Suliman, perceiving the Turkish finesse, and provoked
at such treatment, which he did not deserve, drew himself up erect,
and addressed Mohammed Ali thus in a serious, calm tone of voice,
without waiting for the first word from the latter, conformably to
Turkish etiquette:—

“Thou wishest to reduce me, here, in the presence of my people, to
the grade of thy servant (Gadàm), but thou wilt be disappointed. Thou
dost not know my power. Art thou aware that it only needs a word from
me to excite the whole island to revolt, and to destroy thee and
thy trifling military escort? Reflect that thou art in my kingdom,
in my power, and not I in thine, Yet I will not be base; say, in a
few words, why I have been summoned here, and what I shall do.”
Mohammed Ali, enraged to frenzy at hearing a black talk so to him,
but perceiving only too well the truth of what he said, reflecting
on Suliman’s power and importance, and his own small army, gave
way in this critical juncture, and ordered Abdin Bey (although he
understands Arabic) to explain to him that the manner in which he
had behaved was not proper; that he intended to invest him with
the mantle of honour, and that he must kiss his hand as a token of
subjection. Sheikh Suliman listened to this, laughing at the same
time, but returned thanks for the honour of the investiture, and
stooped to kiss his hand, which, however, he did not do, as the old
Basha, enraged, kept both of them behind him; whereupon Suliman,
without further ceremony, silently went away, and never appeared
again, although he was summoned several times.

Mohammed Ali was indignant at the heads or Sheikhs of the mountains
of Fàzogl not having paid their respects to him, as they had been
apparently subdued by Ahmed Basha, in his expedition against Mount
Tabi, Aba Regrehk, Singue, to Beni-Shangull, (twelve days’ journey
behind Fàzogl, called by the Turks Fèsog’l), or rather had entered
into a friendly alliance. And he attributed their non-appearance
to Sheikh Suliman, whose dominion extends from Aba Nande, below
Rossères, to Fàzogl, and who, although of a small and weak frame,
for he is above eighty years old, (some say more than a hundred),
has not lost by his subjection the fame of his bravery in former
times, which is spread through the land, and of which wonders are
related. On the contrary, he is reckoned a real prince of peace
among these considerable chiefs, and has preserved tranquillity
in the country in behalf of the Turks, entirely for the sake of
preventing bloodshed. He went into the villages of his people,
who honour him as a father and tutelar genius, and merely said,
“The Turks again want Tulba; I know not whence to take it.”
They brought it spontaneously, each according to his means, and
even more than he wanted, which surplus he then distributed among
the poor. One must know the avaricious character of these people
properly to appreciate such generosity.

This frank and open speech on the 24th Dec. 1838, was sufficient
to shew the old Basha how civilization, even in Ethiopia, begins to
assert its claims, and urges resistance against Turkish barbarism;
for wherever the soil is abundant, there personal freedom, the love of
which these people have preserved pure in their hearts, has a right
to demand a generous maintenance; but they have not even this, for,
in contempt of the country and the people, every thing belongs to the
great man, or his hangmen. He sent presents, therefore, and issued
written proclamations, to the absolute rulers of Kamomil—where
the richest veins of gold have been found—of Fazangùr, Duhb,
and even to the Galla-chiefs, in which he says that he is not come
to disturb their tranquillity,—that he, the _Lord of armies and
cannons_, promises peace, &c. Even Abu Sarrott, the terror of all
the mountains behind Fàzogl, received sabres and Turkish dresses
from Mohammed Ali, and, fourteen days afterwards, the receiver of
these presents plundered all the magazines, and carried away the
cows and camels. This Abu Sarrott, before whom every one trembles,
was formerly a slave of the Sultan of Mount Hummos, east of Fàzogl,
had rendered himself independent, and having no settled abode,
makes himself a home everywhere.

Mohammed Ali led four battalions of infantry, 400 Mogrebin cavalry
under their leader Ladham, and 600 horsemen armed with lances,
swords, and bucklers, from Sennaar, under the Sheikhs Defalla and
Edris Wood Adlàn, with two field-pieces, to Fàzogl, where he made
a sacrifice to humanity, by releasing 400 slaves. He had already in
Khartùm revived the old edict issued from Alexandria and Káhira
for the abolition of the slave-trade, in order to throw dust in the
eyes of Europeans; but this order was one of those which, though
publicly given, contained secretly a counter order. This practice
goes so far, that these fine orders which are issued from Kahira,
are entrusted to a kawass or courier, who on such occasions is a
confidential lictor of the great Basha, and who quietly whispers into
the ear of Ahmed Basha how he is to understand the despatches. So
much for the suppression of the slave-trade, or rather of the Chasua
(slave-hunt), as the former is practised publicly throughout all
Egypt, even in the houses of the Consuls. So much for the not
setting foot upon Abyssinia, where however Emir Bey undertook an
expedition from Fàzogl to Atish, towards its boundaries, marching
forward with the incredible caution usual in the Chasua, and seized
Christian churches, and massacred every soul. So likewise in Taka,
where slave-hunts took place on all sides; and from whence we should
very certainly have gone to Habes, if the campaign had turned out
well. Such was the case also in Kordofàn, where, on the intelligence
that Mohammed Ali had himself put into effect at Fàzogl the orders
he had given in Khartum, on account of the delay that took place,
the slaves found unfit to be recruits were set at liberty. At the
same time the well instructed Ahmed Basha dared to issue an order
to Mustapha Bey to prepare a Chasua for 6,000 slaves, by which the
loss of the 400 in Fazogl and of the few who had been emancipated in
Kordofàn was sufficiently covered. Ahmed Basha managed afterwards
to gain the confidence of the old Sheikh Suliman, probably, by
praising his independent behaviour towards Mohammed Ali. In short,
Sheikh Suliman, who had no medical assistant in Rossères, allowed
himself to be persuaded by Ahmed Basha to make his nephew, Edris
Kantòr (also Kamptor) the ruling Sheikh, conformably to Mohammed
Ali’s wishes; to stand by his (Ahmed’s) side in Khartùm as
his counsellor, and to take into consideration the welfare of the
country. The renegade Suliman Effendi (with whom my brother was
once there) was to have him under his care; but the Sheikh would
not take any medicine, because he feared a physician whose fame had
even extended from Arabia. This Sicilian had poisoned thirty-three
soldiers there in order to ruin two Frenchmen, the physician and the
apothecary, whom he detested. Ahmed Basha has need of such persons
even in this land. Suliman suddenly died because he was too tenacious
of life and wanted to return to Rossères, and was immediately buried
according to the custom of this country, just as I was on the point
of visiting him. “_Deve morire, non c’è misericordia_,” said
Suliman Effendi, laughing, when opposing my brother with respect to
the nature of his illness; and he was right. The brother of Sheikh
Suliman, Nasr Wud Ahmed, came six months after to this capital;
the strong, robust man was despatched in fourteen days in the same
Turkish manner. Another brother received for some trifling matter
1,000 blows with the kurbash (a scourge, or whip, cut from the skin
of the hippopotamus), far worse than the Nabùt, and reckoned to be
equivalent to death: this man endured the punishment not only manfully
without uttering a sound, but sprang up, and exclaimed, “_Ana achu
el bennaght!_” (literally, “I am a brother of the maiden!” it
means, however, a man who defends his hearth—generally, a hearty,
brave fellow). Such examples of hardihood are not rare here, and
depend partly on the race from which they spring. By the intrigues
and the constant chicaneries of Ahmed Basha, the family of Suliman
has been reduced to the lowest point. Woe to the Turks, therefore,
when the time for revenge comes! The people belonging to the race of
the Hammeghs still continue formidable, and remain always devotedly
attached to the family.

These great Lords of the Isles, such as Edris Wud Adlàn, and Edris
Kantòr, nephew of old Suliman, possess villages wherein 3000 or 4000
slaves live at their ease, with their wives and children, who are
faithful and require only a hint from their protector. These Sheikhs,
who are the issue of the marriages between the Funghs and Hammeghs,
have besides a body-guard which they have furnished for themselves,
being their own or perhaps not their own children. Thus Kantòr has
more than 100 wives, Edris somewhat less, none of whom must be barren,
if they do not wish to be displaced by others.

The old policy, which unfortunately still holds good, of chiefs being
at variance with one another, bears its fruit also here. Kantòr
as Sheikh of the Divàn, fears the lawful heirs, the children of
Sheikh Suliman and Nasr, and has already murdered seven of them,
without being called to account for it. Two sons, however, fled to
the Sheikh Wud Abrish, on the confines of Makàda.

There died besides, in confinement, whilst I was in the country,
the great Sheikh Mohammed-Din, a martyr for his Haddendas;—also
Sheikh Hademer, highly esteemed in Mahass, who some years before
had prophesied from his old books, that the Inglés (English) would
free them from the Turks; wherefore, as soon as the intelligence
was received of the taking of St. Jean d’Acre, he was seized in
order to be, like Mohammed-Din, for ever set aside.

A man of consideration, on whom the Basha had forced the post of Muder
of Dongola, for a considerable sum of money, died the day before he
was about to set out for Dongola. My brother said to Suliman Effendi,
that the unfortunate man was poisoned. “_Pare cosi ma ben pagato
la sua morte da Muder_,” answered the renegade, and then abused
the avaricious Basha, because, instead of paying his debts, he had
required him to reduce them himself.

What, however, made a great noise and sensation in Egypt, was the
death of Farat-Bey, in Wollet Mèdine, and especially the sudden
decease of the brave Mustaphà Bey, in Khartùm, the only Turk who was
really beloved in the whole country, and who was therefore an enemy
of the Basha. He came from Kordofan to Fàzogl, during the time of
the extreme heat, where Ahmed Basha hoped he would perish from the
insufferable climate, as he said himself jocosely. He was not well,
and was exhausted by the journey; he became worse without Suliman
Effendi summoning to a consultation the three Italian physicians
who happened to be present, Cecconi, Toscanelli, and Count de
Domine. The Bey, surrounded by Memlukes and servants, requested
Suliman Effendi to give him medicine to send him to sleep. The latter
spoke in Italian to himself, went to the small army medicine-chest,
being watched by the slaves, took laudanum and gave it to the Bey,
in a silver tablespoon; but the desired sleep did not come;—and
Mustaphà himself called for opium, though he was not accustomed at
other times to use it. The attendants, still remaining in respectful
silence, heard and saw how the Sicilian muttered again in Italian,
again poured laudanum into the spoon, and held it to the mouth of the
Bey. Scarcely had the latter taken this dose, which was larger than
the first, than blood rushed from his nose and mouth, and he slept for
ever. His Memlukes knew the bottle on which the name was specified,
too exactly, and called it Rogh el Affiùn (spirit of opium). Suliman
Effendi did not appear the next day, and on the morning after, when
he came to me, was very discomposed and absent in mind—exclaiming,
“_che brav’ uomo! peccato_,”—whilst he sought every moment
his snuff-box. Whereupon I asked him, whether he had given the Bey
laudanum twice? He did not deny it, but he had only given “a few
drops,” “_e, Signor Avvocato! mi era padrone, io servo suo_.”

I had everything to fear from this man, who otherwise was friendship
and familiarity itself, on account of my brother, whom the Basha
intended to put in his place, as medical inspector of Belle Sudan,
and had openly expressed that intention. It was therefore with the
most solemn earnestness, that I threatened him with death, if I
should not find my brother alive on my return, and should discover
that he had come in contact with him.

“_Dio guardi, che affronto_,” he said, and quietly drank his
glass of rum; for a similar insult had been openly offered to him in
the divàn of the Basha, which naturally referred to the poisonings
laid to his charge in Arabia and here. Not only did the superior
military and civil officers fear to take medicine from him; but
also the Basha—who, indeed, knew him best—would not receive on
one occasion a glass of lemonade from him, though he had prepared it
under his own eyes, and asked my brother for another glass, which was,
of course, annoying to him. He was called at the bazaars “Rogh el
Affiùn;” in the coffee-houses, “Rogh el Affiùn,” and “el
Marras” (ruffian, or bad man).

The unhappy end of Mustaphà Bey found general sympathy; and some
astonishment was excited when it was known that the Basha had
threatened Suliman Effendi with the bastinado if he did not pay
his debts. Even in the divan of Vaissière (which we also called
the exchange, because this man, who was an officer under Napoleon,
and decorated with the _croix d’honneur_, carries on the most
considerable traffic in slaves in the whole country) the death of
the Bey was discussed by the Franks; and it was doubted whether it
had been done by Ahmed Basha’s orders, or whether Suliman Effendi
had accomplished the deed of his own accord, in order to render an
essential service to him.

Whilst they were speaking of him, the old greybeard entered with his
accustomed sallies of wit. They laughed at his conceits, and treated
him as usual, which is so easy for these European people, even when
they have deadly hatred in their hearts, that it makes an honest man
shudder. I could relate a good deal of these Europeans, but it would
make too long a digression here, although we are stopping between the
Blue and White Nile; and I consider it even my duty to particularize
them by name on another opportunity, as I, with my iron sceptre in
my hand, have before threatened to do. My brother and myself might
perhaps be reproached for having visited such companions, who, under
an exterior appearance, by which the mere passing traveller is so
easily blinded, have utterly abandoned all law, justice, and morality,
and have almost renounced Europe; and for having associated with men
who are no longer masters of their better selves, but entirely lost,
and of whom we were warned in Káhira. Kahira and Alexandria must
be known to estimate properly such a warning, as it does not refer
to the immorality of men, but only to the preservation of one’s
own interests against danger. Káhira, as well as Alexandria,
affords abundance of materials for a _chronique scandaleuse_,
and forms an uncommonly rich and highly interesting stubble-field
of unmistakable colonial nature, where a careful winnowing of the
higher society would give a surprising result. It is the same even
with the small and partly ephemeral colonies of Franks in Khartùm,
where they concentrate themselves at times.

After a tedious journey of three months, we arrived here. The
Muslims perceived the French flag hoisted as a matter of precaution,
as it generally prevents the ship being taken away for the use of
Bilik (government), and they crossed over to the Douaniers, who
never lose sight of their prey: we were truly glad to find human
beings again. Our flag was known by no one except by Vaissière,
who gave vent to an old grudge against the Prussians, and excited
a prejudice against us among the Italians, which was so much the
greater, because a noble example of Prussian manners and customs had
caused an uncommon sensation here in Khartùm. The long title of my
countryman was hardly perceptible on the fragments of pots, whereon
we read “Puckler-Muscau,” called and supposed by the common
people to be “Sultan betal Moscow.” However, they tendered their
services to us with uncommon hospitality, letters having preceded
us which possibly described us as harmless fellows,—except one,
a German letter. A Frank, in white Turkish costume, addressed us,
like a shade from the lower regions, in the German language: we
were surprised, and especially when he asked about a letter from
my countryman ——, which at the best, therefore, must have been
an Uriah’s letter. The pale citizen of Khartùm calls himself a
peasant (from the neighbourhood of Wurzburg), and is now inspector
of manufactories in Kamlin.

A letter, full of low calumny, from my amiable friend had found
its way even to him, although I had not done him any injury; but
he was too well known. He had, in a peculiar sense of the word,
given me letters of recommendation against my will, not only
here, but in Cairo, to which city he took the trouble of writing
three. It is the curse of a prolonged residence in the South that the
character of Europeans, and particularly of the northern nations,
alters more or less in course of time. Slumbering passions display
themselves in an odious and very dangerous manner; the cat becomes
a tiger raging against itself, if the spirits of Ahriman,—brandy,
and opium,—have him betwixt them;—and at last he is mocked and
laughed at. A choice of companions, who might be called “good and
bad, or high and low,” was not to be found among the few Franks
in Khartùm. They live a cat and dog life with each other, but are
breathing witnesses that this is the land of the Lotophagi; for, from
their frequent convivia and bacchanalia, they might be supposed to
be bursting with love and friendship. Whoever is really in earnest
to acquire general information on the manners and customs of the
East, and to increase his knowledge of human nature, must not carry
himself as cautiously as a diplomatist, provided he is conscious of
good sound principles, fostered from youth upwards.

Mustaphà Bey was dead; Ahmed Basha had lost a rival, and moreover
came into possession of 2000 purses, by the closest money transactions
with the public exchequer. The brother of the victim arrived with a
high and mighty Firman from Constantinople and Káhira, to fetch his
brother back to Thrace from the unhealthy climate, and, perchance,
also from the dangerous contiguity to Ahmed Basha. It was intended,
perhaps, that he should come too late, for they managed, in a
remarkable manner, to procrastinate his stay in Káhira, and also
on the road. He was very much cast down, and scarcely regarded by
the Turks, even by the Copts, wherefore he did not dare to reclaim
his inheritance, as he valued his life. _Sero venientibus ossa_
could not, however, be said of him, for the Charim (harim), with
flesh and blood in abundance, remained to him. This arose from
the Princess or Bashalessa,—as the wife of Ahmed Basha, and the
daughter, or adopted daughter, of Mohammed Ali, is called by the
Franks,—having, in an unusual visit, openly shewn her sympathy,
and prevented, by her authority, on the part of the Divàn, the
harim being plundered. This lady was awarded to Ahmed as a mark of
peculiar favour, when he was residing in Káhira, where she also
remained behind till the year 1840.

Ahmed Basha was obliged to discard his former wives, according
to the custom here, and also in Turkey, when the daughters of the
Sultan are married. Even those great men were forced to do this, to
whom Mohammed Ali, in that magnanimous reduction of his inventory
of women in 1838, bequeathed princesses from his Charim (for whom
he had lost all regard, and would not pension as widows), to be
their reigning lawful wives, and whose slippers, conformably to the
Mussulman custom, they were compelled to kiss. Our Bashalessa is,
according to my brother’s opinion, an accomplished Levant lady, who
knows how to distinguish good from bad, and feels herself extremely
unhappy in Khartùm, where she is confined to her cloister, with an
occasional excursion on the Nile. She is desirous of getting away from
the place, and wanted, therefore, to entrust my brother, when we had
determined on our return, with a letter to her father Mohammed Ali:
she sent also, contrary to her former custom, several times during
my brother’s illness to inquire after his health. When he was
called in to see her as a physician, she received him without a veil,
just like her attendants, and spoke continually of Masr, and asked
after political news. She is a tall, imposing, and almost masculine
person, with a deep voice, yet very courteous;—but not nearly so
handsome as two novices in her train, condemned to chastity. In the
antechamber, from whence the Tauwàsch (eunuchs) did not dare to
step over the threshold of the cell, he always found an European
breakfast to console him. She may, therefore, have contributed to
Ahmed Basha’s being recalled to Káhira. The latter, however,
did not obey the repeated invitations, and died _of a tertian ague_
in the spring of 1844. His successor was Ahmed Basha, known by the
epithet of “Menikli,” (meaning “great ear,”) whose march to
Taka appears, according to the usual vaunting of the Arabs, to have
turned into just as rapid a retreat.

Khartùm forms, in every respect, the capital of Belle-Sudan; it has
a mixed population of about 30,000 souls, and lies, according to Duke
Paul William Von Würtemberg, (who visited this country in the spring
of 1840, and went as far as Facharne, near the Geb’l Kassan, three
or four days’ journey above Fazogl), under the 15th° 41′ 25″
north latitude, on the northern point of the land of Sennaar, between
the Nile and the White Stream. It is called Khartùm (point of land)
from this position. Only a few fishing huts marked, some thirty years
ago, the place where gardens and fields extend on the narrow neck of
land running from the city northward towards the mouth of the White
Stream, from whence the colony, advancing upwards in the direction
of the Blue Stream to the south-east, turns the greatest part of its
numerous gardens to its principal side, whilst the miserable huts
of the Baràbras lie scattered about the level margin of the White
Stream. The small group of houses standing in the place of the fishing
huts I have mentioned, is called el Belled, meaning village here, in
opposition to Helle (city). Khurdshid Basha is, properly speaking,
the founder of Khartùm, for he fixed his residence here, erected
more public buildings, and even established a dock on the White and
another on the Blue Stream. Except the dyami (mosque) and the bassàr
(bazaar), all the houses are built of lathes, or air stones, the
fabrication of which is so slight in the new buildings, that very
noxious standing pools are formed, which, at the first rains, are
immediately peopled with frogs, said to come out of the earth. Ahmed
Basha understood these disadvantages to health so much the more,
because he himself was subject to frequent fevers, and wished, in
order to obviate the noxious evil of the unhealthy situation of the
city, not only to fill up these ditches, by pulling down the houses
nearest to them, but also for the sake of a better draught of air,
to have wide streets formed. To render the city secure against any
danger from water, he was to have made the shore of the Blue Nile
an angle of 45°, and the earth removed thereby, with the ruins of
the houses taken down, was to have been employed to make a broad
dam;—this dam to be planted with trees.

In like manner, a long wall was to have been raised along the White
River, and an extensive sandy country would have been laid under
cultivation. We spoke on this subject in Taka, and he immediately
wanted a drawing of a plan, which was easily made, even at so great
a distance, because, excepting the mosque and the new bazaar, no
heed was to be taken even of his palace. Ahmed Basha had really much
practical sense, and thought that every one ought to be, by instinct,
a bit of a Hakim and Maendes, (physician and engineer).

The departure of the expedition was fixed for the 23rd November,
and yet three cannon shots, unexpected by any one, resounded to-day
about l’Asser, (three o’clock in the afternoon), as an imperative
signal, although it had been long wished for by me. I sprang to the
window and heard myself summoned, from the ship which was to convey
me, to come immediately. Now there arose an indescribable swarm of
people and clatter on the shore, a crying, howling, and leave-taking,
so that I was glad to be able to squeeze through the crowd to the
cabin. Sounding above every thing arose the shrill treble of women,
that inimitable and horrible quavering cry, “Kullelullullulu,”
by which they give vent to every lively emotion of the heart in
pain, joy, and misery, with different modulations which a foreign
ear can only distinguish by frequently hearing them. This time it
was a farewell cry, for every one flocked to the shore to give the
parting greeting, and some rushed even into the Nile to the side of
the vessels. There were women, daughters, sisters, brothers, and the
chorus of black, brown, and white dancing girls, who nimbly drew from
large round vessels of clay (burma) more merissa, and passed this
parting drink round in gourd shells (gara) among their acquaintances,
gratis. These dancing women, or filles de joie (guavàsi, _sing._,
ghasië), are never wanting here at any feast, whether with Turks
or Christians, and break, at least, the monotony of such comfortless
society where woman is always excluded.

If we few Europeans had not perhaps dragged ourselves very quickly
to the vessels, with an occasional curse at the climate on our lips,
the Turks, certainly, did not move more actively; nay, they were even
more enervated by the influence of the climate, and the discomforts
attending it. They came therefore surlily, sluggishly, and unattended,
having left behind their attendants in the harims. It was only the
coloured people that suffered nothing; they were in their native
element. Our black soldiers embraced one another, shouting for joy,
because they were going to the south, to their free fatherland,
from which they had been inhumanly torn by Chasuas or Dshellabs
(slave-hunts or slave-dealers). Inspired by Merissa, they shouted,
in their language, to their different countrymen, who, partly in
chains, were carrying water, and many a plan for the recovery of
their freedom, and the destruction of their oppressors, may have been
awakened in their rude minds. Belle-Sudàn means not so much _Land of
the Blacks_, as _Land of Men of Colour_, for _assuet_ denotes black,
and _sud_ smutty or dingy, as the word is used here; for example, in
dirty linen. According to the colour, the name might have been used
as beginning from Assuan, but the northern boundary of Belle-Sudàn
is formed by the two rocks of Assul, on the right shore of the Nile,
a declivity of the Achaba Shangull. _That_ Achaba with its rocks
crosses the Nile, and its natural gates also are the boundaries of
the Mamùr of Berber. But here, where the poor, fair child of man,
not excepting even the Arabs and Kopts, totters about and fades away,
weak, and feverish as if he were affected with the Marasmus senilis;
here upon his native soil, we ought to see this dark people, how
boldly and freely, nay wantonly and flexibly—again, how angularly
and awkwardly they move their limbs under this glowing sun;—how they
stamp with inconceivable pleasure, fury, and perseverance, upon the
hot ground in the wild dance, till the earth trembles again. Here it
is that we must see the Blacks, when they have drowned their grief
for their lost freedom, and the _home-sickness which kills most of
them_, in sparkling Merissa, if we would know them thoroughly, with
all their peculiarities, and in their entire bestial beauty. From
this muddy soil of the shallow lakes of the inner countries fermenting
under the hot sun, such a dark-coloured and black breed as the Dinkas
could alone spring, with the primitive forms of human monsters, yet
with plastic frames, without being masters, in our sense, of their
mass of limbs. With what ease and purity the naturalized dark-brown
Arab and Baràbra, and the black Nuba move here:—how secure their
tread on the vessels, in comparison with our Egyptian lubbers, who,
like the Pachydermata, cannot renounce the Fellah.

The line of the vessels unwound itself into a curve from the shore of
the blue stream; the cannons thundered, all the guns were repeatedly
discharged, the drums (trombet) beat a flourish; here and there arose
a noise and contention for places; the Arabs sang to the stroke of the
oar with the accompaniment of the tarabùka (pot drum), the Baràbras
struck up songs with their tambùr (guitar, Arabic, Rabàba) at the
same time: here one blew the double flute (argùl), there sounded the
sumàra (pastoral pipe). All this was done chiefly to stun themselves
and to lighten their agitated hearts. Scarcely had I by signs taken my
leave, than there came over me a feeling of separation, as if I had
left my brother Joseph in Khartùm. Many days journey indeed he was
from me, and in a campaign that I knew, from being previously present
at it, was dangerous. At Gohr et Gash, I had jumped on a dromedary
without first embracing him: we had both regarded it as a good omen,
but now our separation was first definitively decided. In Khartùm
I had, at times, received intelligence or letters from the camp;
here we had so often afforded brotherly assistance to each other on
a sick bed, and mutually saved one another’s lives. What dangers,
what adventures awaited him and me between the present and the moment
of meeting again!—but—we shall yet see one another.

Sailing down the blue stream, we soon neared the wooded island of
Tuti, inhabited by the Baràbras, rising gently like a little Delta,
at the conflux of the two arms of the Nile. This island is said to
be the oldest colony of the Baràbras in these parts, on account of
which they bury their dead there from the whole surrounding country,
just as the Arab tribes, and the other inhabitants of the banks of
the Nile carry their dead to the village of Hubba, lying opposite
to Khartùm, upon the right side of the Blue River, because in both
places highly revered Sheikhs or saints have their tombs in lofty,
cupola-shaped vaults, gradually diminishing upwards to a conical
form, and called Hubba, (not Kubba, which means the plague, a disease
entirely unknown here). The White River, flowing to the north-east,
rolls in an unbroken stream along the north-west side of the island
of Tuti, whilst the Blue River, whose current is more than twice
as strong, bounds against this straight, whitish stream of water,
as well as against the south-east side of the island, and winding
through between the latter and its right shore, which juts out,
makes a bend, deserts its former direction to the north-west, and
turns in a north-easterly one, with the White Stream.

Here, once, both streams met and became united in a lake, which might
have formed a triangle, according to the direction of the White Downs,
above Khartùm from the Blue River, near the village of Gos Burri,
the smallest angle of which went towards the south into the White
River. At that time, the Blue Stream exercised quite a different
dominion, and did not condescend to the before-named bend at the
Island of Tuti, from which bend the traveller is firmly convinced that
the Blue Stream flows into the White. The inhabitants of the banks,
however, assert the contrary, for the former, as being the Nile, is
considered, as it were, sacred, from its superior water and its more
beautiful colour; although they allow that both streams spring from
one source. This likewise redounds to its fame, that it is said to
flow five times quicker than the White Stream, which latter indeed
is nearly stagnant in the dry season. With all its good qualities,
the Blue Stream displays a destructive activity towards Khartùm. If
it had extended this activity before, more towards its right shore on
the east, and spared the low ground heaped up by it towards the west,
to be the foundation of a future city, and formed by its alluvial
deposit a dam against the White Stream, its waves would now wash
up more against its west shore, exactly opposite to the principal
side of Khartùm. It is very certain that it is not necessary to
go back into the ages before history, to speak of a land-draining
of the northern point of Sennaar, since the expression “fok el
Bachr,” points plainly to the old river’s edge by the Mosque;
and likewise, not a single brick has been found in all this lake
soil of Khartùm, except on the hill near Burri, which also must be
considered merely as a new shore of the lake. As I have said before,
the Blue Stream always extends more towards the mouth of the White,
which it has already pressed down against the edge of the rock, in
the desert near Omdurman, whilst it extended itself, like a lake,
immediately from Hubba in the extensive low country east of Halfaia,
until it closed the road there with the hilly alluvial deposit upon
which this city is partly built.

If the lake ground at Khartùm was principally governed by the White
Stream, and its deep, clayey site overlaid with sand, the blue
stream has heightened its lake at Halfaia with a fruitful soil,
which yet enjoys at high water its blessed waves, that impart,
however, only a soft green to the forest.

Near Wud, or Wolled Hüsseïn, four hours’ east of Halfaia, a
natural canal is seen in the rocks, with a steep fall, which even now
is active as a Gohr, and might have made an outlet once for the lake
on this side. The immediate cause, however, why the blue stream, by
Khartùm, presses against its left shore, and flows almost under the
houses of Khartùm, lies in the fact, that it has thrown up so much
sand within these few years, against its east shore from Hubba to the
island of Tuti, that the inhabitants of that great village are forced,
when the water has somewhat subsided, to go far over the sand of the
heightened bed of the river to the water, and that the inhabitants
of the island there wade through the Nile to the right shore, on a
sandbank ominously forming itself. If this last current of the blue
river shall eventually be dammed up, its mass of water will rush
with the strength of a powerful mountain torrent against the mouth of
the white stream, and raise it, because its last strength is already
expended, even at a moderate height of water, by the projecting rocks
and the islands impeding its mouth. Then Khartùm will be lost, and
the water will not only regain its former territory below Djami,
but the blue stream will also break through above the whole city,
as I sufficiently convinced myself a short time ago, at high water,
when the city, notwithstanding the miserable Turkish precautions, was
saved as if by a miracle, and the blue stream looked into my window,
over the narrow dam of earth, which is about three or four feet high.

On this occasion, I saw five gazelles at the south-west end of the
city, near the hospital, gazing with wonder on the mirror of the
water of the wide white stream passing over into its old lake basin,
which was driving them towards the city. A stupid Topshi (cannoneer),
who was at too great a distance, without further ceremony scared them
away immediately by a heavy shot from the powder magazine, whilst
I, with my servant, had made a long circuit through the water, in
vain. On such an inevitable swelling of the river, which must lead
to the destruction of Khartùm, the old double lake that has ebbed
away, will come to life for some time, and not only wash away the
island of Tuti even to its rocky base, but also the whole margin of
the left shore of the united stream up to Kàrreri, which, however,
possesses in its rocky mountain, about three hours’ distant from
Khartùm, a breakwater reaching from the desert of Baguda.

Ahmed Basha perceived all this very well, when we travelled
together on the Nile to Tomaniàt below Halfaia, where he had
taken the best fields from the Shaïgiës, in an illegal manner,
and had ordered fifty sakies (or chain of buckets, for raising
water) to be constructed upon it, and where the sesame was standing
majestically, higher than a man, and might yet grow another foot. For
this purpose—to obviate the danger which might arise to the future
royal city—the bend of the right shore near Tuti was to have been
broken by a deep canal, in order to carry away the sand from Hubba,
and to deepen there the bed of the river. A favourite plan of the
Basha’s, however, was to make his residence a fortress, to erect
works on Tuti, and to place Khartùm upon an island by a canal,
to be opened from the Blue to the White Nile; for such a canal
formerly existed from Soba to the White Stream. Old people relate,
to be sure, but only as a rumour, that the White and Blue Stream
met together there. The ruins of Soba already known (which place one
hears pronounced likewise Suba and Seba), consists of heaps of burnt
bricks, without any other cement than the Nile slime, which have
supplied the surrounding country for the vaults of the reputed holy
Sheikhs, as well as in more modern times, Khartùm with materials
for its mosque: they extend over a considerable space on the right
shore of the Blue River. I heard the country opposite these ruins
called likewise “Dar Soba;” therefore a contra-Soba, or perhaps
once united to it, since the burnt and fused masses of brick, the
wide-scattered bricks and fragments, even the ditches, if there
had not been clay or foundations and vaults dug out, indicate, at
all events, an old place. A small village on the edge of the river,
under shady mimosas, and called Soba, extends to this. I have found
just as slight traces of that canal, or of the bed of a river in this
woody country, as in the other Soba on the right side of the river;
and, therefore, I cannot assume, with regard to the last-mentioned
ruins, that they were once situated on the land of Sennaar, although
the right shore might indicate the violence of an irruption of water
through the city itself.

Before I forsake the Blue Stream, I must yet remark that, besides
the usual name of “Bach’r asrek,” it is called in this
neighbourhood, “the Nile, or Bahr el Nil,” as I have often
convinced myself. If it be asked why it is called the Nile, the answer
is, because it has beautiful and good water: the old expression for
this river is therefore identical with its properties. It is just
the same in Egypt, where, as I found from experience, especially in
Káhira, Bahr el Nil expresses the material properties of the water,
for even the sakkah (water-carrier) interprets the Nile water with
hellue (sweet), in opposition to cistern and brackish water. The
Basha calls it also nothing but Nile, and says that certain Sheikhs
have declared to him, that ignorant people call it after its blue
colour. Nile means in the Arabic language indigo; otherwise this word
is no longer used for a blue colour. I had an opportunity of hearing
the word Nile used for inundation, together with Ba Kebir, or ruga
tossiga (great water), denoting the same thing. The old expression
of Nile awakes here, therefore, at the moment when it discloses
itself as a divinity, a protector, and a nourisher of the country
and people. Only the large pastoral Arab tribe of the Shukuriës,
in the so-called Meroë, between the Blue River and the Atbara,
has the peculiar name of “Adehk,” in its Aggem language for this
stream, whilst the other nations in their name for it, indicate its
colour. Those of Dongola, and Mahass, who both boast to be Gins betal
Thin (people of the soil), call it Amanga Arumga, and Essige Rumege,
and the united stream, Ruga; even the far distant Nuba negroes,
the old support of the family of the Ethiopian mixture of blood,
from Assuan to Rossères, call it Blue Water (Tè Uri). It is the
Blue River, therefore, which possibly has imposed the name of Nile
on the united stream, and might have formed the road of cultivation
to nations wandering down and back again, whilst the mouth of the
White Stream, retarded by lake-like shallows and swamps, was far less
known. As, in addition to this, it is denied, with some justice,
that fertility and good water are the property of the White River,
it might have been, in the ages of antiquity, despised so much the
more, and looked upon as a subordinate stream, not to be spoken of:
not a single burnt brick, or other memorial, points to an earlier
intercourse with it.

Before we entered the mouth of the White Stream, we conferred the
last honour on the sacred water of the Blue River, by filling the
large earthern water-vessels, (Sirr, like the ancient Amphora)
with a great noise, and cursed the White River as being stinking
(affen.) The sails were worked amid prodigious confusion; the
north-east wind blew gently in them, and we bent our course from the
Mogren, (denoting equally conflux and mouth, _confluentia et ostium_,)
round the northern point of the land of Sennaar, (Ras el Khartùm,
head of the neck of land,) and sailed slowly to the south over the
rocks, overflowed with water, into the White Stream. There we heard
the last kulle-lullu-lulu of the women, who raised, with both hands,
their handkerchiefs in an arch over their heads, as in funerals. This
made most of us laugh, especially my men, who thought that they had
as good teeth as the Njam-Njam, so much feared by many, particularly
by well-fed Egyptians, but whose country no one could point out.




                             CHAPTER III.

VILLAGE OF OMDURMAN. — MOHAMMED EL NIMR, THE BURNER OF ISMAIL,
MOHAMMED ALI’S SON. — MEROE AND THE PYRAMIDS. — SENNAAR. —
WANT OF DISCIPLINE ON BOARD THE VESSELS. — SCENERY OF THE RIVER. —
TOMB OF MOHA-BEY. — DIFFERENT ARAB TRIBES. — HILLS OF AULI MANDERA
AND BRAME. — SOLIMAN KASCHEF. — REMARKS ON HIS GOVERNMENT. —
AQUATIC PLANTS. — THE SHILLUKS AND BARABRAS. — LITTLE FEAST
OF BAIRAM. — CHARACTERS OF THIBAUT, THE FRENCH COLLECTOR, AND
OF ARNAUD AND SABATIER, THE ENGINEERS. — HONEY. — MANDJERA
OR DUCKS. — FEIZULLA CAPITAN’S EPILEPTIC FITS. — WOODED
ISLANDS. — THE HEDJAZI.


We find ourselves in the gulf, properly speaking, of the arm of the
White Nile, whose waters now extend majestically, and form an elliptic
bay towards Sennaar. The trees of the village of Omdurman, lying upon
the left shore opposite the neck of land, still stood in the water,
as evidence of that forest which Khartùm in its neighbourhood is
said to have absorbed, and by that act to have forfeited the blessing
of rain in an almost incredible manner, excepting the slight showers
which are usual at this season. Omdurman lies upon the rocky edge of
the Desert of Bajuda, and is inhabited by the Gallihn or Djalin. This
people is not of importance on the left side of the Nile, for it
does not possess, except Metemna and some villages, any settlements;
on the east shore of the Nile, however, it makes up the principal
population between Abu Hammed and Abu Haràsk. Mohammed el Nimr,
the burner of Ismail Basha, was the Sheikh of this people, and was
called by them Sedàb. He has founded for himself, principally
through his courage and hatred of the Turks, which were shewn
near Nasùb, a new kingdom on the borders of Habesh, above Sofi,
where the two little rivers of Settiel and Bassalahm flow into the
Atbara: he lives in league with Wud Aued, the Sheikh of the Dabaina
Arabs, and is on the other side connected by marriage with a Ras of
Makada. Immediately beyond the village of Omdurman, there are found
upon the bare, washed-away rocky ground strown over with pebbles,
some foundations and burnt bricks, which we ourselves saw, were used
in the building of the bazaar, and which were without any admixture
of lime, although they lie upon chalky rocks, from which lime has
been burnt for the Djami and the Bazaar. So, also, the bricks of Gos
Burri, where the traces of a very great colony are extant, travelled
to the banks of Hubba, the bricks of which are of uncommon goodness.

The land of Sennaar, to the west side of which we are now sailing, is
called through the whole country _par excellence_ Gesira, the Island,
for it is taken for one by the people, and is designated also a land
by the latter word, as Meroë was once, and indeed from the very same
cause. But if we speak of the city of Meroë, the ruins of which we
may assume to be in the plain on the Nile under Shendy, where the
villages of Gebelabe, Marùga, Dengèla, and Bahr-auie are—this
place was certainly situated upon an island. The low country towards
the pyramids down to the village Maruga, where a canal filled with
mud now disembogues into the Nile, would plainly shew this, if a bed
of rocks, perhaps intended to separate the sacred city from the great
churchyard, were not just before that heap of rubbish, on which is
pointed out the forge, or the heavy scoriæ of metals, said to have
been wrought by the powerful Kafr Ibn Omàli el Kebir. The names
also of the two villages Bahr-auie, (not Begrauie and Bigrauie, as
the Egyptians and Kenuss pronounce it,) and Ma-ruga, refer to water,
in the same manner as Dengela perhaps does to a fortress; Dongola,
also, is called in old writings Dengela, or Tongul, (according to
old Sheikh Hampsa in Hannak, who is well read.)

The hills of ruins of Meroë _in complexu_, are called Geb’l Omàli,
and the Pyramids, which the ass-drivers in Kahira call Piramill
and Paramill, are called here Taralib, and Tarabill, as at Geb’l
Barkal. In the latter place, I heard from the Faki Mohammed in Abhdom,
who has inherited rare manuscripts from his father in Meraui, that
the true name is Tarable, indisputably from Turab, _sing._ Tura,
a grave; if not from Troab, a stone. Lastly, as to the Pyramids of
Assúr, as those in Meroë or Geb’l Omali are called in Europe,
the Sheikh of Maruga knew them only as Chellal el Aschùr above
Metemma. With these people we are always right, if whilst asking one
of them we chose to fit some name to a place where ruins are found,
however corrupt it may be. This is partly politeness, as I have seen
again and again in “Piramill;” partly, they believe, also, that
we, as the descendants of those Kafirs who built such towers, must
know better than they, where we have to seek for the buried treasures.

Let us ascend, therefore, from the island city of Meroë to
Sennaar, to follow the course of the White Stream up to the
Equatorial country, after some ideas have been first suggested
about the origin of the denomination of this Mesopotamia, which
may lead us back into those times when, according to the notions
of the Egyptians, the Nile separated the Asiatics from the Afers
(or Kafirs.) Sennaar (Σενναάρ, שנְער LXX.) means a land in which
Babylon and other cities lay; Sennaar, better, however, Sennarti,
means a little island near Ambukoll, where, in the language of the
Baràbras, “Arti” denotes an island, and is always appended.
“Wachet-sin,” or “sen el har,” (a hot tooth, or throat,) was a piece
of soldier’s wit, which I heard in the city of Sennaar.

Joy and pleasure reigned on board the vessels, and the fresh air
failed not also to have its beneficent effect upon me, for continual
motion and variety are the principal conditions in the South, on
which depend the good humour and feelings of internal life. Thus, the
present expedition promised me pleasure and strength; and to enable
me to make my ideas and thoughts speak livingly from my breast,
without losing myself in a dreamy state of reclining inactivity;
and to permit me to see, observe, and compare a strange world with
its insipid surrounding scenery, without delaying writing my Journal
till the next morning.

But the prospect of attaining our aim—viz., of seeking and
finding the sources even beyond the equator—appeared to me at the
beginning from the constitution and composition of our expedition,
to be doubtful. The vessels were to follow one another in two lines,
one led by Suliman Kashef, the other by Selim-Capitan; but already,
when sailing into the white stream, this order was no longer thought
of. Every one sailed as well as he could, and there was no trace
to be discovered of nautical skill, unity of movement, or of an
energetic direction of the whole. How will it be, when the spirits,
now so fresh, shall relax through the fatigues of the journey?—when
dangers which must infallibly occur shall arrive, and which only
are to be met by a bold will directed to a determined point?

However, these gloomy impressions could not last long; the scene
around was too picturesque, too peculiar, too exciting. On the left,
the flat extended land of Sennaar was gently clothed again with
copsewood and trees; and on its flooded borders rose strong and
vigorous Mimosas (sunt and harasch) out of the water, high above
the low bushes of Nebeck and Kitter. In the same manner the left
shore was wooded, from which we were at a tolerable distance, owing
to the north-east wind. Behind its girdle of copsewood and trees,
reaching just as far as the waves of the majestic stream in their
annual overflow give their fertilizing moisture to the soil, the
bare stony desert extends upwards, as it shews itself at Omdurman,
in profound and silent tranquillity. So much the more animated and
cheerful was it on the river.

The decks of the vessel, with their crowd of manifold figures, faces,
and coloured skins, from the Arabian Reïs who plies the oar, to
the ram which he thinks of eating as the Paschal Lamb; the towering
lateen sails, with the yard-arms, on which the long streamers,
adorned with the crescent and star, wave before the swollen sails;
the large crimson flags at the stern of the vessel, as they flutter
lightly and merrily through the ever-extending waters; the singing,
mutual hails and finding again, the ships cruizing to and from the
limit fixed for to-day;—everything was, at least for the moment,
a picture of cheerful, spiritual life. With a bold consciousness,
strengthened by the thought of many a danger happily overcome,
I looked beyond the inevitable occurrences of a threatening future
to a triumphant re-union with my brothers.

_Nov. 24th._—Our yesterday’s voyage was soon ended. We landed
on the right shore, about two hours’ distant from Khartùm,
near the tomb of Moha-Bey, overshadowed by two luxuriantly-growing
harash-trees. They stood in the water, though the year before, on
the 16th of November, they were far removed from it: thus giving
four feet and a half higher water, and affording me the consolation
of thinking that we shall penetrate further, although I perceive no
great haste in any one, for we might have gone on very comfortably,
and without any danger, the whole night. At sunset yesterday it was
22 degrees Reaumur (at our departure 25 degrees).[4] The appearance
of the scenery had hitherto not changed.

The left shore appears entirely flat, equal in height to the
water-line, to which the distance adds certainly something. Yet,
on the right shore, the river from the Shudder Moha-Bey, has thrown
out or deposited downs, which enter, in an undulating form, into
the deserted lake territory.

The Kalàklas (Arabs) dwell, from these two trees on the right shore,
in two Kabyles, under Sheikhs Bachit and Abugleff. The Hüsseïnudis
(whose Sheikh, Abu Bekr Wollet el Mek, shares with his father the
fame of valour, and of whom the Turks speak with respect,) extend
to the left shore, opposite to the Kalàklas; they pay, however,
Tulba, (tribute) as do all the Arab races of the White River, up to
the Shilluks.

We sailed to-day in the morning at sunrise, but soon halted again on
the right bank of the river, at the Arab tribe of Abdallah Ozerrs,
where we took in wood. Another unnecessary delay! This might have
been done yesterday. From the Abdallah Ozerrs we came to the Gulamabs
and Hussein-Abs (Ab, abbreviation of Arab). At noon we reached, with
a few deviations right and left from our course towards the south,
the rocky hill of Auli, which rises to the height of some two hundred
feet on the right shore, a day’s journey from Khartùm. From the
numerous fragments found in the vicinity, being a conglomeration
of chalk and limestone very much washed and brittle, this hill
evidently belongs to the limestone formation. The name is derived
probably from the Arabic _auel_; because this is the _first_ high
ground met with on the White Stream. It is also called Gare-Nebih,
from a Sheikh buried there, and from whom also, conformably to the
Arabic custom, the tribes dwelling there have taken their names.

Opposite to Gebel Auli, over the left side of the river, is
seen another and more extensive elevation, bearing the name of
Mandera. These rocky hills are of granite formation, and seem not
to exceed a height of three hundred feet above the level of the
stream. The word Mandera has here no more a Greek signification
than Auli, although it still means, in Káhira, the lower part
of the house, where the stables generally are to be found; in
which, certainly, its analogy with sheepfold and a monastery is
very close. But it here signifies a height upon which there is no
water. On the left bank of the river are two tribes, which live in
friendship and cultivate their durra fields in common. Higher up
are the Gemulies, and beyond these the Mohammedies, belonging to the
race of Gare Nebihs, whose Sheikh lies buried on the western plain,
and who here possess both shores.

The Gebel Mussa soon shewed itself on the left, two hours’ journey
from Gebel Mandera, also a hill of rocks (hornstone formation), which
has received its name from the holy Sheikh buried there. Therefore,
here also prevails the tasteless custom which in Europe has displaced
so many radical names of places in history, tradition, and popular
custom. The old name of this mountain is Brame; in which at present
I can see no meaning. Both of these tribes dwell on the right and
left shores; where likewise are found venerated graves of the family
of Sheikh Mussa, to whose progenitor Mount Mandera belongs. Their
present Sheikh is called Mussa Wollet Makbull,—a sensible, brave
man. Rapidity of the stream one sea-mile; depth four to five fathoms
and a half. Yesterday, when we sounded the stream, there was little
or no current, which in fact decreases with the depth. This morning,
at sunrise, it was seventeen degrees Reaumur; at noon thirty; and
in the evening, at sunset, still twenty-seven degrees in the shade,
at the open window.

_Nov. 25th._—We halted, yesterday afternoon, opposite the Hill of
Brame (Gebel Mussa), for it was the eve of the lesser Bairam feast,
and Suliman Kashef wished to shew himself there in all his glory. We
had now arrived at his piratical states, an extensive territory of
several days’ journey; which he, as Kashef of the first rank, has
acquired under the ægis of the Basha Ahmed! who had his peculiar
share therein. If he does not understand how to read or interrogate,
his administration, nevertheless, goes on excellently, according to
the Turkish manner. He knows how to receive a complaint or petition
with much grace, and with the other hand, to let the beads of his
sebha (rosary) glide through his fingers to keep time with his course
of ideas; to glance over the paper in appearance whilst he listens
to the bearer, and then to hand it with stately contempt to a Faki
to read to him. Really generous and social by nature, he loves to
have cheerful people, in pure pleasure and genuine joy, around him;
and appears to be beloved by this tribe whom he helps to oppress,
since he selects, like a Nimrod, the _élite_ for his predatory
expedition; but if the enterprise succeed, does not let them go away
empty-handed. As far as the Shilluka and Dinkus he is a dreaded guest,
full of warlike artifices, Circassian and Ethiopian κρυπτεις,
and of open fierce valour, and known only under the name of “Abu
Daoud,” which means “Chief David,” and seems to be an historical
name of the Ethiopian land; for it cannot be supposed to apply to
the King or Prophet David. The old Sheikh Mussa himself appeared
to pay his respects; and the Circassian was exceedingly glad to see
him continue so fresh and well,—at the same time he winked at me
to draw my attention to the flexible nature of the Arabs, when he
gave the Sheikh to understand, with the most unruffled countenance,
that he must procure an indefinite number of cattle and sheep for
the feast of Bairam. All the Arabs suddenly drew a long face.

I made use of the time to examine the country, to ascertain clearly
the lower formation of the valley of the White Stream. Here, also,
the river is partly dammed up by downs, on which there are single
groups of tokuls in the shade of Mimosas, the inhabitants of which
belong to the races of Arabs dwelling farther back, who form a kind
of line of defence towards the Stream, and amuse themselves with the
chase, especially that of the Nile buffalo. Behind these downs, washed
by the stream, is low ground covered with verdure, which alone would
prove that there had been an inundation, even if standing water were
not visible here and there, left by the river when it broke through
or swept away the deposited and accumulated downs, and spread itself
over the low country until it was sucked up by the sun. The valley,
besides the good grass already dried up, was covered with various
kinds of shrubs, with thorny nebek and kitter, with brandy clover
called loïd, with mimosas, harash, sant, salle, &c. In the midst
of these there are many paths formed in hastening to the water, by
which the deer and the herds, when pursued, immediately divide the
huntsmen, and lead into impenetrable thickets of thorns and creepers,
or to sloughs and swamps where danger threatens on all sides,
without their being able to render assistance to each other. The
humid spaces were covered with luxuriant aquatic plants; amongst
which was a Nymphæa with a reddish calix, like the convolvulus,
and large cordate leaves. This, to my great astonishment, was called
Loss, and reminded me of the old word, lotus, and is as prevalent
here as the white lotus (_Nelumbum speciosum_), at a later period,
the double flowers of which shine at a great distance through
its leaves, taking light and life from the other aquatic plants,
and covering the whole watery region like flat tumblers. The white
lotus, called Zitehb, might here, as it once did with the Egyptians,
serve as an emblem of the material world, from its abundance, like
the potatoes with us; its roots serving equally for food.

The stream had not long returned to its limits, as I soon convinced
myself, when, wandering to its brink, I saw to the south of this
embankment an expanse of water stretching far over the land, out
of which the tops of the taller trees peeped forth like verdant
islands. Beyond the inundation still older downs were visible, which
are no longer disturbed by water. These heights and hills connected
with each other in an extremely arbitrary manner, or lying scattered,
and partly forming a manifold circumvolution of the white stream,
are not perhaps remains of an old deposit from the river, but probably
the product of alluvial soil and earth thrown up. The river acquires
for itself, from its well-known fruitful qualities—the nature of
the place being favourable, by means of the plants floating towards
it—a green border, which mostly consists of bushes, whose roots,
matted together, resist the action of the stream. These bushes retain
the yearly deposited slime of the Nile, and continue to grow with the
ascending ground. So, likewise, the sand driven in when the water is
low, and the portion of earth thrown up by the violent squalls of
wind, remain behind protected by the bushes. When the water is at
its greatest possible height, this accumulation is chiefly covered
with its fertilizing layer of slime; whilst by the pressure of the
water and the particles forcing themselves upwards, it still becomes
higher. The sandy earth deposited by every wind, and the roots of
the bushes penetrating through the moist soil, increase the swell
of this formation of hills, by the fall of their leaves and wood,
as one may plainly see in the spheroid and parallel sites of the
shores of the downs, which have been partly destroyed.

In the interior beyond Mandera dwell the Kabbabish Arabs, a
widely-spread Nomad race, possessing large droves of camels and
horses, which they bring down from time to time to the shore to
drink, and to supply themselves with drinkable water. This is the
point of time at which Suliman Kashef is on the watch to extort
tribute from them.

The Baghara (cow herdsmen, from Bagh’r, a cow), a wide-spread
Arabian tribe, dwell further up the stream and possess the country
as far as Kordofan. Their name is collective for many Kabyles of
this Nomadic nation, who are to be considered as branches from
the very same root, although from necessary local circumstances
(in reference to pasture-ground), or from dispersions brought
about by dissensions, various names of places and chiefs must have
arisen gradually displacing the names of the original race (gios),
and recognizing no longer any patriarch or archezekes, or Great
Sheikh, but only the kindred (Kabyle), of their hereditary leader
or Sheikh. The latter we see in their peculiar origin in every
Arabian camp in the closer union of their relations, and in every
great Arabian village, where they live retired among themselves,
and frequently by means of a a seriba (enclosure) like families,
in the encampment of a people who are of one and the same blood.

The Mahass use the expression gebeirù for Kabyle, and this
corresponds with the signification of γένεα. On account of
this original connection by blood, no wars occur between them, the
boundaries of their pasture-grounds having continued undisturbed
among them since ancient times, and been recognized by other tribes,
though lying before them in small separate encampments. The Baghara
of the left shore are here all mounted, which enables them to make
daring incursions into the lands of the Shilluks and Jenugah, who
are not horsemen. The Baghara, on the contrary, of the right side
of the river in Sennaar, settle themselves very submissively with
their whole family to take care of cattle, entrust the charge of the
tents to the women and children, and exhibit to the spectators the
most strange groups when they move from one place to the other,
and kindled fire in the evening to cook by, in front of every
tent. Precisely because of their difficulty in moving, contributions
are levied on them by the Basha, and they are hostilely visited, on
which occasion the Funghs unite themselves to the Turks. The Baghara
are also forced to come to the shore for water and pasture, when
they are frequently waylaid, robbed, and plundered by the Shilluks,
who, however, only requite like for like.

I heard that the Shilluks, who dwell in these parts on the river
islands, and on both shores, but further up on the _left_ only,
display uncommon skill in their marauding expeditions. The Arabs say
they crawl upon all fours as swiftly as a snake; and rarely use force
to effect their robberies, but effect their purpose with incredible
cunning—a circumstance which agrees but ill with our preconceived
idea of the qualifications of a robber. In the East, however (we
will not speak generally of the Southern lands); and, indeed, among
the ancient Greeks, craft was considered equally worthy of a man
as open combat, if it led to the point aimed at. The Shilluks are
said also to be compelled to use artifice in this anterior part of
their territory; which has extended, according to the expression of
the Barabras, up to the _mouth of the White River_, because their
number has become very small by the advance of the Arab tribes,
with their horsemen clad in armour, and they could effect nothing by
open violence. Peculiar washed-up limestone conglomerates and porous
volcanic productions are here found on the shore, as well as a number
of small Conchylia; _Paludina bulimoides_, _Melania fasciolata_,
_Neritijachasa Jordani_, _Cyrene consobrina_, and a new species of
Physa, distinguished by a plait on the spire.

_Nov. 26th._—Before we left Sheikh Mussa, yesterday morning at
eleven o’clock, we had an uncommonly stirring and merry time of
it. The Rhamadan, fasting month, was luckily over, and the little
feast of Bairam, which follows it, was celebrated the more worthily,
because Sheikh Mussa had not remained deaf to the friendly persuasion
of Suliman, and had had oxen and sheep driven down quite early in
such quantities, that the eyes of the whole crew sparkled at seeing
them. In a trice the Kashef allotted their shares to the different
ships, and sent me also two capital wethers for the next day, the beef
here being generally tough and coarse, and even despised by the Turks.

This peculiarity of the meat depends on the nature of the fodder;
for the tender grass and herbs of our marsh-lands and pastures are
wanting here. And the climate exercises a considerable influence in
the hardening of animal texture, which the surgeon himself perceives
when operating on the human body. Our Arabs, who, like the Greeks
and Jews, born butchers and flayers, know no mercy for beasts or
men, fell upon the victims, hamstrung them, to obviate the chance of
any resumption of the gift; and the festive hecatomb fell—a sight
pitiful to behold. Every one tried, during the flaying and quartering,
to cut off a little piece or strip of meat, or stole it from the
back of the bearers. This little booty was stuck on skewers into the
glowing fires, which were still burning, and voraciously devoured,
in order to prepare the stomach for the approaching banquet. Although
they know how to roast the liver excellently, they preferred at this
moment to cut it up into a flat wooden dish (_gadda_), to pour the
gall of the slaughtered beast over it, strew it with salt and pepper,
and so to eat it raw. This tastes not a bit worse than a good raw
beefsteak. The ships were drawn up abreast, in order to lessen the
procession of the general salutation to the Bairam.

I found Selim-Capitan with Suliman Kashef: the former had thought
it well to do homage to the latter as his superior, by offering him
his congratulations. Suliman embraced me tenderly, right and left,
according to the Turkish custom; and so did every one in his turn,
till I began at last to take myself for a Turk, although I did
not even know the formula of salutation. Araki (brandy from Aràk,
perspiration, distillation) was handed round instead of the coffee
(_Kawoë_) usual at other times; and the servants had enough to
do to continue filling the small flagon, in spite of the extreme
narrowness of the spout through which the liquor had to pass into
the glasses. The Frenchmen also soon appeared in Turkish costume,
as we all were; their sabres by their sides, as also is usual at
every visit; and, moreover, with their marks of distinction on
their breasts. But, in spite of all the airs they tried to give
themselves, they were far surpassed by Suliman Kashef in personal
imposing dignity; so that no one, even if he did not know the
different relations in which they stood, could be in doubt who was
of the most importance here. His demeanour is quite simple, but yet
of that character that it restricts every pretension to its proper
limits; although Arnaud tried to speak like Mohammed Ali, as if he
had been his privy-counsellor, and wanted to prove to us that he was
a Marquis; whereupon he acquired there and then the name of “Le
Prince de la Lune,” in honour of his bald pate and his marquisate
in the mountains of the moon.

We set sail, with a faint breeze, at about eleven o’clock, with
twenty-nine degrees Reaumur, towards south. I remained with the
Frenchmen till noon. Thibaut was soon somewhat the worse for liquor,
and uttered all kinds of stale witticisms. Although he has sojourned
many years in these parts, he still remains while on his travels a
genuine Parisian, who, wherever he goes, never divests himself of
the Parisian atmosphere, and interests himself in nothing, properly
speaking, but the doings of that city. To-day his brain was haunted
with the Parisienne, which he was humming incessantly, although he
had not seen the revolution to which it owes its origin.

The two other gentlemen are a perfect contrast: Arnaud affecting
to be continually busy, without however producing anything, and
throwing out continual bitter taunts against his young colleague
Sabatier. The windows are covered with curtains: he does not venture
out of doors to make the necessary inquiries; but merely now and then
looks at the box-compass, although the vessels turn every moment,
and go first to the right, and then to the left shore. The compass,
therefore, affords no indication whatever of the course of the stream,
for the boundaries of its shore generally decrease from the height
of the water, and become undefined; and thus a correction of the
compass might possibly be made on the return voyage. Sabatier, on the
contrary, appears quite negligent and lazy, because he is not well,
and will not endure the arrogance of Arnaud; so that these gentlemen
engineers mutually accuse each other of ignorance. In other respects,
he seems to me a frank and open youth, who might be taken for an
American rather than for a Frenchman, from his having served in Texas.

I found the time hang heavy with these insipid men and the monotonous
scenery, and was not a little glad, when the uniformity of the
latter was broken by the luxuriant clump of trees on the island of
Assal. The island, which is not large, is said to derive its name
from honey (Assal), which is collected in great quantities from
the trees on it, as also on those of the islands succeeding. This
wild honey is blackish, and leaves in the mouth a bitter taste,
derived from the wood, mostly sunt. Honey from trees is generally
not so fine and palatable as that found in rocks; accordingly,
the honey from the Hejaz, nearly white, and almost crystalized, is
even preferable to the Grecian. Tree honey is said generally to have
something narcotic in it, but then it must be eaten by spoonfuls,
for I have not found it so. There is, indeed, a drink prepared from
it, which is certainly intoxicating. The blossoms of the mimosa,
blooming nearly throughout the whole year, afford the principal
resources of the bees, although there is no want of flowers, which,
in conjunction with the tanning-bark of the knot-holes, may contribute
to the narcotic qualities of the honey. Those nests, hanging loosely,
of a species of wasp, which give only a little honey, and are seen
in Taka, do not appear here.

The village of Thebidube is next seen on the right shore; it belongs
to the great race of the Hassaniës. I was surprised to observe, not
far from the village, ruins, clearly the remains of larger buildings
than Arabs huts. The place was called Mandjera or Docks, and I learned
that the former governor, Kurshid Basha, had founded these extremely
convenient docks, owing to the forest being near. They were, however,
abandoned by Ahmed Basha, in accordance with the favourite Turkish
system—because his predecessor was the founder.

Half an hour above, we lay-to at the village of Masgerag el
Tair. Masgerag is said to mean the same as “street;” the whole
word, therefore, is “Bird Street,”—but we did not see many
birds. Here the Sheikh Mohammed of Wadi Shileï came to greet us. The
Arabs of this place also call themselves Shileï, from a Sheikh buried
here, although they belong to the main stem of the Hassaniës. An
Arnaut of Suliman’s shot, in my presence, a hare whilst running;
the ball entered in behind, and passed out in front. The Turks
consider themselves the best shots in the world, as well as the best
riders:—although they can do little when the animal is running
and the bird on the wing, on account of their long and heavy guns.

Believe it or not, you may hear this boast every day, without being
able to convince them to the contrary.

_Nov. 27th._—Here, on the borders of the Arabian dominions,
we waited in vain for a courier from the Basha, fearing lest he
should have changed his intention with respect to the expedition. I
passed a very bad night. In the middle of the most profound sleep,
I was awakened by a fall in the cabin. My good Feïzulla Capitan, the
commander of my vessel, had tumbled on the ground from his tolerably
high place of rest opposite to me. I thought I heard the death-rattle,
and saw by the light of the lantern, that the froth was standing in
his mouth, which was firmly closed. The servant very coolly said
to me, “Mabegaff!” (don’t be afraid). It was the first time
that I had tried to open the hands of a person struck with epilepsy,
but upon my doing so, he soon came to himself, to the astonishment
of the crew; towards morning, however, he had two more fits. I now
learnt, not to my great consolation, that he had from youth upwards
suffered this affliction, and that it frequently returned. But my
night’s rest was disturbed, and I sat myself on my Bamber before
the door, where the sentry very quietly slept. When this fit came
on Feïzulla, I sprang to him, without any one else having troubled
themselves about him, because he was too good and indulgent to the
men. Hard drinking, together with the heat, had contributed perhaps,
chiefly to the violence of this attack.

The air was cool, compared with the heat of the day, and the profound
stillness of the night was very impressive, through the soft uniform
rippling of the water on the stern of our ships; but the snoring
of the crew, who were lying pell-mell, was insufferable. I had a
peculiar feeling of loneliness and abandonment, not lessened by the
reflection that I was on the White Nile,—this stream, the source and
course of which had appeared a riddle for centuries to all cultivated
nations. As a half-forgotten tradition descending to our days from
the infancy of the human race, impels us to explore the Nile, so
our expedition is, in the main, nothing but a continuation of the
endeavours of the Priests of the Nile, the Pharaohs, the Phœnicians,
the Greeks under the Ptolemies, and the Romans under Cæsar and
Nero. It is as if mankind in general, like a single individual, were
ever seeking anew, with unabated desire, the sources with which the
first awakening to intellectual consciousness is connected.

The sun rose to day magnificently behind the old high trees on the
brink of the river, when we sailed further to the south. I remarked
that the trees standing quite in the neighbourhood of the water or
in it, were mostly withered. These, therefore, had had too much of
a good thing, and soon died away through the sudden change, when
the water left them, although they surpassed in size the older trees
behind them. Passing by the village of Damas on the right shore, and
the three luxuriantly wooded islands (the most important of these is
called Tauowàt), where the vessels made, certainly, many windings,
without the course of the shores of the river being ascertained,
except that they had a southerly direction. We came towards noon to
the mountain group of Areskell, which elevates extremely picturesquely
its six or seven rocky peaks on the left shore, although at some
distance from it. At their foot lies the large village of Tura, up to
which the ships from Khartùm and Sennaar come, for from this place
two main roads lead to Kordofan. At two o’clock in the afternoon we
were for the first time, with a faint breeze, opposite the mountain,
and landed at the village of Masgerag Debasa. We sent our Sandal
across to Tura, which, because our fleet and Abu Daoud were dreaded,
brought us back wethers and butter. The village itself was not to
be seen; it lies, like most of the villages (of which, several in
this route are dissimilar, though nothing to signify), as concealed
as possible, and further inland on account of the inundation.

At sunset, the country presented a truly charming landscape. The
stream, which might have been here about an hour broad, glowed like
liquid gold, whilst the sun hid itself behind the Araskòll, and the
slender sickle of the moon shone clearer in the west, with Venus, in
the cloudless sky. The three islands of Genna, Siàl, and Schèbesha,
stood out, with their thick forests, from the tranquil water; and
on the other side the pointed peaks of the mountains grew dim in the
deep blue, over the dusky woody foreground of the left border of the
river, with the charms of an island in the Ægean Sea. Close to me,
the shore is enlivened by the coloured and black forms of the crew;
some play and wrestle, with songs to the sounds of the pot-drum,
(Tarabuka); others lie and squat round the fire, stir and cook by it;
others hunt, while some throw themselves into the stream, pursue each
other in swimming, dive, and run again to the fires, which, in the
increasing darkness, throw magical streaks of light on the water,
and repeat themselves in it, with the strange groups illuminated by
them. So long as the flesh-pots of Egypt, distributed among them by
Suliman Kashef, hold out, they are all of good cheer, and appear to
have no other wish than to spend the time agreeably according to
their own fashion; to play nonsensical pranks, and make jokes for
the amusement of the Turks, and when that is no longer practicable,
to return as quickly as possible. With respect to the real design of
our expedition, I see on _all_ sides, a negligence and indifference
which nearly make me mad. The latitude is 14° 5′.

_Nov. 28th_—The sun has risen an hour since.—At last the drum was
beaten to shew that our Jason, Suliman Kashef, was awake and permitted
Selim Capitan to set sail. We had left the two tree-islands, Genna
and Sial, on the right, and turned to the left shore. I now found
confirmed what I had already remarked—namely, that throughout
the left shore, there are not any heights or downs, as on the
right. Therefore the stream exercises a far greater dominion over
the former, as is plainly seen by the extensive wooded country being
inundated. The wide brink of the shore appears principally to lie
on the right side of the river, and generally above the level of
the left side, which circumstance, perhaps, might be accounted for
from the cutting down of the Ethiopian Highlands. We also remarked,
from the edge of the right shore being torn away, that a more fertile
soil has covered the lower earth, and that the stratum of land is
only upon the surface, whereon the downs lay. We found yesterday,
near the Island of Tauowàt, a shining black, sandy earth, which
Mr. Arnaud called mud: the naturalist, Thibaut, on the contrary,
declared it was ferruginous earth; it was, however, nothing else than
black volcanic sand. It was mixed with clay, and looked like the
laminæ of sifted iron dross; small black crystals formed nearly a
third of the component parts, (pyroxene and horne blende, according
to appearance). It seemed to have been brought here from the eastern
side by a gohr now filled up with mud, or by an old channel of
the river, and formed on the shore a layer of about a foot high,
above which again was the usual earth strongly alloyed with sand. I
had already seen on the right shore volcanic productions. It would
therefore be interesting to follow these traces with the gohr into
the interior, in order to explain these phenomena in Central Africa.

We quitted the before-mentioned Island of Schèbesha, on the left,
and arrived at ten o’clock on the Island of Gùbesha, nearly two
hours’ long. If the right shore has unprotected places where the
water enters deep into the trees, the inundation also extends so
far on the left shore, that the eye may follow over the plain the
glistening of the water through cavities and decayed wood. The Island
of Hassamë, also very woody, comes directly after Gùbesha, and
is soon succeeded by the Duème, which is covered with wood. These
islands, according to the eye, extend in a line from south to
north. About noon, we had the last-named island at our side, and,
for the first time, put into the left shore. Here Mustapha Bey had
established a Saghië (a water-wheel, for the purpose of irrigation);
and many things of the same kind, as well as a settlement, would have
followed, if the good man had not been poisoned. In the neighbourhood
of Khartùm, Ahmed Basha, fearing his influence with the population
would not permit the purchase of land, as the Bey declared to me
himself. He also related his campaigns, in which he reached the
“Gazelle River,” and a large lake, from whence the White River
issues, and which must be that lake the first expedition sailed
through. This is the _last_ place where we shall pass the night
ashore, for it behoves us to be secure from the natives. I did not
examine our landing-place till the sun was going down, because it
did not appear to me advisable to go to the chase with my huntsmen,
and to expose myself to the heat of 29 degrees.

The acclivities here extend far backwards into the country, and afford
a proportionate extensive survey. I ascended the nearest hill, and
was not a little surprised to find, in and upon the black earth,
a number of fragments of earthenware, and pieces of burnt brick,
as likewise decayed and consumed conchylia. I soon perceived also,
new graves, belonging to the small village near at hand, which
convinced me that I was standing in an old churchyard, to which the
new one joins, because the Moslems never bury another person in the
place where once a body has lain. The number of conchylia is easily
explained: it is the custom of the people to secure their graves in
this manner against wild beasts, which would otherwise root them
up; for they always cover them with broken white flints, which do
not exist here. This village is new, and was founded by a Faki, a
native of the country, who lived a long time in Hejàz, and by the
aid of Kurshid Basha, who wanted to make it a strong station. The
people, as well as their village, are called on that account Hejasi,
which I continually heard pronounced Ajazi; and took for a national
name—as the respected Burckhardt did the Ajazi, in Sennar,—until
the corrupted word was explained to me etymologically. Not a soul
came from the village to welcome us, and an embassy was sent just
as little on our side, to fetch a Don gratuit, or Viaticum, since
the pious devotees of this place are called, naas batalin (malignant
people), and therefore I was immediately recalled from my excursion.

Suliman Kashef was vexed at the non-appearance of the Faki, and
was of opinion that he was a devil (Afritt), who must however be
spared. Here, in the vicinity of Pagan nations, these Hejazi form a
kind of missionary establishment, at the head of which is the Faki
as the Sheikh, who, far from imitating the luxurious ostentation of
other missionaries in the East, has arrived at last by mortification
and eloquence at a self-consecration, and has gained a great number
of adherents, even in Darfur, where the Islam has been spread for
some time past. He has known also how to maintain his authority by a
judicious use of fire-arms; for his rabble of pilgrims are fanatical
and insolent. Their slaves, converted _per fas et nefas_, are the
most zealous adherents of the Koran, when they have once breathed
the air of Mecca, and return as free Hajjis, to their country,
though they have generally only learnt the usual prayer “Allah
Akbar,” with the short confession of faith, “La illah ul ullah
wa Mohammed Rassúl Alla” (there is no God but God, and Mohammed
is the prophet of God).

This formula is sung without intermission, in funeral ceremonies,
keeping time to the trot, rather than to the walk of the bearers
of the corpse. It is a formula which every traveller here should
remark; although I, for my part, have never made use of it, except
for a joke with my brother, when he or I lay sick in bed of a fever,
and desponding. As the apothecary Bartoli, in Khartùm, a year ago,
repeated directly before his death this formula, as a piece of wit
which happened to be his last words, the Muslíms, who were present,
wanted to carry him immediately to their churchyard, and to return
thanks to God for having enlightened him with the true belief.

Kurshid Basha ordered Saghiës to be built here, at his own cost,
for the Hejazi; but the scaffolding for them is only to be seen
now. I believe, from the various traces of earlier and extensive
agriculture, to which these heights owe indeed their irriguous
formation, that the fragments of bricks and the potsherds I had
just found, belonged to an earlier city, which had fallen to ruin,
or been destroyed, and which perhaps stood on the site of the old
churchyard. The hill, about thirty feet high, being so close to the
water, must have invited a settlement at a very early time. It is
clearly perceptible that the water by the river-side has carried away
a good deal of the hill. This may have been sufficient cause, for
the inhabitants of the city, to desert it entirely. It is true that
the soil is here also dark in its lower strata; but it is, however,
very strongly alloyed with sand, and has but little resemblance to
the greasy and slimy soil of Lower Egypt, and even to the shore of the
blue Nile. The process of fecundation in the inundations of the Nile,
consists indeed in the vegetable remains of the neighbouring forests,
and abundant marsh-plants, which have been washed away, settling and
depositing themselves afterwards as a humus, when they have been
amalgamated by continual rotation with particles of clay and sand
from the dark yellow Nile water, till they become a liquid pap. On
the shores of the White Stream the woods are too near, and therefore
their fallen leaves are carried away before the vegetable process can
have properly taken place. For this reason I account for the fertility
being so much less in proportion. After all, I believe that the Blue
river is the real parent of Egyptian fertility, and that there was
more; before the Dam, thrown up by it on the right ride, prevented
it from carrying away also the leaves from the eastern forests. The
Atbara and the smaller influxes of the right shore of the blue Nile
above, still remain perfect canals of fecundity; and it is plainly
seen by their darker colour that they separate at high-water.

Our Frenchmen, this afternoon, set about calculations with a great
air of importance, although they did not appear to be well. Sebatier
has had an attack of siriasis, and Arnaud has also lost much of his
pathos. I hear with astonishment that the calculations made hitherto
by these gentlemen, are said to agree to a hair’s breadth with those
made by Selim Capitan in the preceding year. Strange! But I don’t
believe in such an exact coincidence. It is much more probable that
the Turk, being a naval officer, has far more experience than the
all-knowing Frenchmen; and that the latter, being well aware of it,
adopted their predecessors’ calculations without any scruple.

Selim Capitan laughed when he yesterday instructed Arnaud in handling
the instruments. Thibaut remarked this as well as myself; and it
perfectly corresponds with the expressions of Sabatier, who calls his
colleague an ignoramus, because he abandons to him the calculations
he does not know how to make himself.

At a distance of twelve hours’ journey from the before-named
Hill of potsherds, near the village of Hejazi, is seen, towards
the south-west, a considerable mountain. It is called Bihtsh; which
name is found also in the islands of Philæ. I could not find any
such word in the language by which I could judge of the analogy
of the two mountains. The Gebel Bihtsh is said to contain silver;
and at Masgerag Tain it is asserted that silver has been found up
the country, from whence came the present, which the Sheikh of Wadi
Shileï in that country brought to Suliman Kashef. This present was a
stick, curved at the top, some two feet longer than the one in common
use from Korosko hither; and though only of the thickness of a finger,
was called Hassaie,—an expression which is used besides for a heavy
club. This pastoral sceptre was very prettily overlaid with silver,
and the ornaments on it merely engraved with a bad knife; and,
considering such a wretched instrument, they were of marvellous
fineness. In Sennaar, as well as in Kordofan, they know how to
wire-draw gold and silver; to make remarkably beautiful zerfs (the
inlaid stands of coffee cups), and sword-handles from these metals,
displaying good taste; although, particularly in the last-mentioned
articles, where crowns as the head-top, and the form of the cross,
are engraved on the handle, the whole representing a knight’s
sword, called Sefbanbrah; the West and the Crusades have afforded
them models.




                              CHAPTER IV.

MONOTONOUS SCENERY. — CULTIVATION OF DATE-PALMS. — EL AES. —
BOUNDARY OF THE TURKISH DOMINIONS. — REPUBLIC OF APES. — HUSSEÏN
AGU’S FAVOURITE MONKEY. — CRUELTY OF EMIR BEY. — ADVENTURE
WITH A CROCODILE. — BELIEF OF THE TURKS IN THE TRANSMIGRATION
OF SOULS. — LIEUT. ABD. ELLIAB, THE DEVOTEE. — THE TAILORING
PROPENSITIES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — A “FANTASIE”. —
FEÏZULLA’S INTEMPERANCE. — GUINEA-FOWLS. — ABU SEID. —
DESCRIPTION OF WATER PLANTS, AND GRAPES PECULIAR TO THE WHITE
NILE. — THE AMBUK-TREE. — GEBL DINKU. — ABDURIECKMAN, CHIEF OF
THE SHILLUKS, AND SULIMAN KASHEF’S BARBARITY. — HIPPOPOTAMIA,
AND CURIOUS SUPERSTITION OF THE SAILORS. — THE DINKAS AND
THE SHILLUKS. — THE LOTUS. — MOUNT DEFAFAUNGH. — TAMARIND
TREES. — THE TAILOR-CAPTAIN, AND INSUBORDINATION OF HIS CREW. —
FIRST APPEARANCE OF GNATS.


Nov. 29th.—The fires were still blazing on the shore when the drum
was beat for decampment, and the sleepers lying around them were
partly obliged to be awaked with good blows in the ribs. To-day, for
the first time, we set out before sun-rise. Whether the expression I
uttered in a conversation with the two Turkish commandants,—“We
must make haste and gain honor from the Viceroy and Basha; for if
another expedition should appear necessary, he will certainly place
it under the supreme command of a ‘Frank,”—had any thing to do
with these unusual exertions, I venture not to decide. It is certain,
however, that they dreaded my Journal, for Ahmed Basha declared
that he would have it translated into Turkish. A brisk north wind
got up with the sun, and we sailed E.S.E., making five sea-miles
and a half in the hour, according to the log, which gives, however,
one mile for the current or rapidity of the river.

The channel to-day swarms with islands, so that we sailed by at least
eight before nine o’clock; when we had one on our left side three
hours’ long; others were probably concealed from us. It is really
fortunate that trees always indicate the presence of an island, else
we might have many times splendidly run a-ground, for the shallows are
only slightly covered with water; and the grass, shooting above the
surface, proves the frequent fluctuation of different channels. The
voyage is very monotonous; though the numerous shallow islands
are often grouped very picturesquely, and appear sometimes to bar
the river, and to dam it up into a lake. Added to that, we have
always the sight of a majestic stream, bordered by green osiers;
but the verdure itself offers no variety in the foliage and form of
the trees, no blending of colours, since it presents to the sight
only mimosas, which are here merely sunt-trees. There is no rock,
house, hill, or mountain here whereon the eye, wearied of monotony,
can rest, and which might serve as the halting point of imagination;
moreover, there is not a sound to be heard in nature. The gigantic
American streams can alone produce a similar impression. Although
the river in some places intrudes deeper than usual into the right
shore, yet the limits of the inundation are always sharply cut off,
whereas on the left side the water is seen continually between the
dark shaded trunks of the trees, where even the lowest branches do
not prevent it from running on in parallel gohrs, or deserted beds
of the stream, into other tracks of the river, glittering especially
at noon, when it is usually calm. Many of these, which now appear
to us to be islands, will, perhaps, when all the water returns,
join on uninterruptedly to the mainland. Two shots, the signal of
danger to one of the ships, fall behind us, and are repeated by us
and the other vessels. Thibaut’s vessel draws water; but the Turks
laugh at his anxiety, sail on, and say that he is drunk (sakràn).

Towards eleven o’clock the wood on the right shore opened, and
some tokuls were visible on the shore, at a little distance from the
river, on a line of hills running parallel with it, and standing near
those dome-palms we had hitherto missed, with the exception of the
young copse on the water’s edge. The cultivation of dates, which
might really be a blessing to the country, in Sennaar, as well as in
the extraordinarily fertile Taka, is entirely neglected, although
the gardens near the city of Sennaar, like those numerous gardens
in Khartùm, afford examples of a very advantageous transplanting
in these southern regions. They will doubtless give a refreshing
appearance to the latter melancholy-looking city by their rich
crowns of fruit, when they once rise over the clay walls and
houses surrounding it. But the people, that they may escape the
taxes imposed on every date-tree bearing fruit, will not plant and
take care of them; neither will they cultivate cotton, because they
are obliged to deliver the produce into the Shune at an arbitrary
price. Ahmed Basha had 6000 young date-palms brought up by water
from Sokkot and Mahass. The ground he chose in his caprice to form
a close plantation in, with these trees, lay too low (for he wanted
to save the expense of irrigation), and the Nile overflowing it,
uprooted and choked with its slime the fine young stems. No Turk
thought of washing the slime off and planting them again. The Basha
did not grieve at this abortive work, and was even of opinion that
the Nile had done well, for the lazy people of the island (Sennaar)
would never work again if they once had dates, as is the case in the
country of the Baràbras, who could never be good soldiers (askari).

We approached the place, and found only three people there standing
by their watched boats; and saw, far on the naked plain, men engaged
in driving their cows into the interior to secure them from us. The
miserable village, which may number some fifty decayed tokuls, was
called El Aes, although it is only a summer village for herdsmen
and fishermen belonging to the larger city of El Aes, lying up the
country. This city once gave the name of land of El Aes, or Dar el
Aes to the whole region up to Khartùm, now known under the name of
Wollet Medine, lying above Khartùm, on the Blue Nile. The city of
El Aes is one of the principal colonies of the Hassaniës, and was
at the time of the Funghs one of the three capitals of the kingdom;
the others were Sennaar and the now almost deserted Arbagi on the
Blue river. It is also a kind of emporium between the Shilluks and
Sennaar, wherein the traders of El Aes, by their slaves, barter
Kurbàshes (the whips commonly used here, made from the skin of the
hippopotamus), tamarinds, dried bamies, and Uèka, in exchange for
horned cattle, durra, and woollen stuffs. The Sheikh el Belled had
prudently departed for Khartùm, and could not therefore wait upon
us here with a contribution, to become our guide and interpreter
through the islands, as he did the preceding year, when Suliman
Kashef, without any ceremony, retained him on board ship with his
son. On this account we did not land; besides, we feared that our
men would desert.

Immediately above the village commences again the forest, and we
see by the many dry leaves scattered about that the consumption
of firewood, and consequently the accumulation of human beings,
cannot be very considerable. As there was nothing to be got we
did not remain long. Close to the left shore is an island nearly
three hours’ long, one of those fertile plains so numerous here,
six more of which we passed, though indeed of less size, up to three
o’clock in the afternoon. At this time we landed some two hours’
above the so-called El Aes, near the old and partly withered trees,
for the purpose of taking in wood for fuel. The ancient elevated
river’s edge, up to which the water can no longer rise, being
retained by the downs which are themselves washed up, is plainly
visible on the right shore, through the light places.

Now we are beyond the boundaries of the Turkish dominions;
that is, properly speaking, beyond the intricate and organized
Turco-Egyptian system of plunder. Henceforth, tribute (tulba) is no
longer collected. At my question, what people dwelt here, the Turks
answered regularly, like the Arabs, “Kulo Abit” (all slaves.) I
could not help laughing, and made them understand, to their vexation,
that these people are free, and not so much bondsmen and slaves as
they are themselves: that they must first take them prisoners to
make them slaves, for which they had no particular inclination, and
answered me very naïvely, “the slaves here are very numerous and
brave!” (shatter.) This contemptuous expression, “kulo abit,”
is used by the Ottomans, almost like the classical _barbari_—that
same classical word which the modern Greek has learnt by heart from
foreign schoolbooks with a good-natured orthodoxy.

The vessels not being able to reach the dry land, owing to the shrubs
and trees, I had myself carried through the water to the shore,
in order to take a survey of the country and to make a shooting
excursion. I could not, however, make up my mind to use my gun, the
only animals in the neighbourhood I could shoot being white-grey
long-tailed apes, called Abelènk, similar to the _Cercopithecus
Sabæus_, but more silver-grey and far larger. I had shot such an
one on a former occasion, and the mortally wounded animal had,
by his similarity to a human being and his piteous gestures,
excited my compassion so much, that I determined never to kill
another. Mr. Arnaud, on the contrary, took a peculiar pleasure in
watching the wounded monkeys which fell by his shot, because, in the
agonies of death, the roof of their mouths became white like that of
a dying man. It was affecting to see how the mother apes precipitated
themselves down from the old sunt trees and secured their young,
playing before our feet, behind the high branches, and darted round
the corner until another malignant ball reached them from behind,
whereupon they let their young fall from their arms, but the little
creatures clung firmly to the old one by running, climbing, and
springing under her belly. They live together in families of several
hundreds, and their territory is very limited even in the forest,
as I myself subsequently ascertained. Although they fear the water
very much, and do not swim voluntarily, yet they always fled for
security to the high branches hanging over the stream, and often
fell in, whereupon they, in spite of imminent danger, carefully
wiped their faces, and tried to get the water out of their ears
before they climbed up into the trees. Such a republic of apes is
really a droll sight,—coaxing, caressing, and combing each other,
plundering, fighting, and tugging one another by the ears, and,
during all these important concerns, hastening every moment down to
the river, where, however, they satisfy themselves with a hurried
draught, in order that they may not be devoured by the crocodiles
constantly keeping watch there. The monkeys on board our vessels not
being fastened, turned restless at the sight of the jolly free life,
and at the clamour of their brethren in the trees.

The Milàsim Auel (First Lieutenant), Hüsseïn Aga of Kurdistan,
lay alongside us, and had endless pleasure in his little monkey. He
shouted over to me, “_Shuf! el naùti taïb!_” (Look! the
clever sailor!) meaning his little favourite, who jumped about
the mast and the yard as though he were mad, ran down the ropes,
looked into the water from the side of the ship, and then strayed
from his master, till all of a sudden, he clung to the back of a
sailor who was carrying through the water a package of dirty linen
to the wash, and before the latter could lay hold of him made a bold
spring ashore, to greet his relations, for he also bears the name of
Abelènk, although of a much smaller species. He has been frequently
carried from Sennaar to Kàhira, where he is called Nishnash and
Capuchin. The long Kurd, just as he was, jumped overboard with his
gun to shoot the deserter, in favour of whom, I quickly called out,
“_Amahn_.” The little climbing sailor must however, from being
a Turkish slave, and on account of his diminutive figure, have met
with an unwelcome reception, for no sooner had Hüsseïn Aga stepped
under the trees, than the monkey again jumped on his head. He came
to visit me afterwards, and brought his “Naùti taïb” with him,
who ought to thank himself that I interceded for him. Hüsseïn told
me then, what I had often heard, that monkeys were formerly men,
who were cursed by God. It really is said in the Koran, that God and
the prophet David transformed into _monkeys_ the Jews who did not
keep holy the sabbath-day. On this account a good Moslem will seldom
injure or kill a monkey. Our Turks, however, were an exception to that
rule, when they could, by infringing it, gain a few base piastres;
so likewise was Emir Bey in Fàzogl, on another occasion.

The latter was sitting at table with an Italian, and just putting into
his mouth a piece of roast meat, held between the fingers and thumb,
when a monkey of the cynocephalus (Arabic Khirt) family snatched it
hastily from him. The Bey very quietly ordered the hand of Abu Dom
(so called from his reddish yellow colour, similar to the fruit of
the Doum-palm) to be cut off as that of a robber (Garami), which was
done on the spot. The poor monkey came immediately afterwards to his
cruel master, and shewed him, with the doleful accent peculiar to him,
the bleeding stump of his fore paw, whereupon the Bey ordered him to
be killed. The execution, however, was prevented by the Italian, who
begged him as a gift, for the purpose of healing him. I came, soon
afterwards, into possession of this foolish beast, who contributed
as much to the amusement so necessary to me on the return voyage to
Egypt, as the filial attentions of my freedman Hagar from mount Basa,
whom my brother had received as a present, and bequeathed to me. My
servants would not believe but that the monkey was a transformed Gabir
(caravan guide), because he always preceded us, and on the right road,
even in the desert; and availed himself of every stone and rock to
look about him, whereupon the birds of prey frequently drove him
under the camels to complain to me with his “Oehm, Oehm.” This
complaint he also uttered when he had been beaten, in my absence,
by the people, whose merissa he helped to drink, till he could not
move from the spot, and committed all sorts of misdemeanours.

I found on the shore large snail shells (Ampullaria ovata), and also
some river oysters (Ampulla tubulosa Caill), as well as a number of
fresh foot-prints of hippopotami, though we had not as yet seen any of
these animals. These river buffaloes must be of enormous size here,
to judge from the foot-marks which we made use of to place the large
household pots upon.

We had already, however, seen many crocodiles, which are but seldom
met with when the water is high and turbid, for they then, like the
hippopotami, inhabit sloughs, caused by the swelling of the Nile,
because fish are more plentiful there, whilst the graminivorus
hippopotami find their nourishment in the thriving marsh plants.

I myself came into very close contact with a crocodile, larger than
any I had ever yet seen, whilst both barrels of my gun were only
loaded with smallshot. The monkeys had amused me long enough. I
advanced, therefore, further up the shore, turned round a huge tree,
the right side of which, facing the water, was covered with thick
underwood: I soon, however, drew back behind it, for I here nearly
walked into the jaws, literally speaking, of a crocodile, as another
step would have brought me to the creek, which was quite filled
up by the monster, as he lay in front of me. I looked round for
my huntsman Sale, an active, good-tempered, but very inconsiderate
youth, who carried my rifle; but he was not to be seen. Yet I could
not help taking up another position behind the trees, which afforded
me protection, in order to fire a volley of shot at the odious beast,
whereupon it very quietly retreated into the stream.

When I subsequently reproached Sale, he answered me very naively that
I should not hunt so close to the shore, for that he had more than
once, whilst gazing at the birds and monkeys in the trees, on looking
down, seen the head of a crocodile close before him, glaring at him
like a ghost (Sheitàn, Satan); and which he dared not shoot lest he
should kill his own father. Of witches and sorcerers who transform
themselves and others into beasts, especially into crocodiles and
hippopotami, that even in their transformation, still bear the griefs
they received when human beings—how injured wives often wither up
their husbands’ stomachs, and place them on their backs by magic,
&c.—tales such as these we hear related as true, even by those
to whom these occurrences are said to have happened. The traces of
a belief in the transmigration of souls cannot well be mistaken,
although almost entirely obliterated by the Islam; but it is only
applied here to the degradation into beasts—such as serpents
and dogs.

When at a distance from the shore, it is as well to have a barrel
loaded with ball, there being in this region many lions whom we
hear roaring at night. One soon, however, becomes accustomed to
such dangers, nay, I might say that we are not only rash, but quite
foolhardy, in neglecting all precautions and means of preservation,
and, therefore, we have nothing to reproach the Arabs with in their
everlasting “Allah kerim” (God is merciful, the Dio é grande of
the whole of the Levant). To be burdened with guns and shot-pouches
is troublesome, owing to the heat; on this account we often sally
out without weapons, not intending to go far from the camp, when
suddenly, allured from one object to another, we find ourselves at
a long distance from it, and, consequently, helpless against danger.

Towards evening cartridges were served out, and muskets loaded, for
we are now, for the first time, in a hostile country! The powder-room
stood open, and the men with lighted pipes passed continually to and
fro unrestrained, over the open hatchway. Allah kerim! I seek to rouse
my captain from his indolence by drawing comparisons, every moment,
with the English sea-service,—I fall asleep myself whilst the
powder is being distributed, and waking early in the morning, find
the hatchway still open, and the sentinel, whose duty it was to give
an alarm as soon as the water increased in the hold, fast asleep,
with the pipe in his hand, and his musket in his lap. Feïzulla
Capitan begged me not to report the poor devil (el meszkin).

The upper strata of the ground here are sandy and but little fertile,
yet I sometimes sank so deep into water and the livid clay soil that
my red shoes stuck fast. Beyond the gently elevated margin of the
shore, the ground is flat and bare, with short grass and stunted
copsewood, among which the wood usually made for tobacco-pipe
tubes in Sennaar, with its light grey rind, oblong-shaped leaves
and truncated at the top, is particularly abundant, and very much
in request with the crew. The height of the water here was, owing
to the great breadth of the inundation, not near so much as further
downwards. In Khartùm, where the bed of the river on _both_ sides
is contracted by the sides of the shores, it must have been twice
as high at this time. The whole inclination of the ground in the
territory of the White Stream, sinks from E. to W. The Nile is
the best hydrometer for this observation, for I have frequently
remarked that the islands in the neighbourhood of the right shore
are generally less inundated than those on the left; therefore, in
the former, the greater elevation of the eastern bank still continues.

An observation also, which I made on the plains of Meroë, or
rather on the enormous plain between the Atbara and the Blue Stream,
contributes to strengthen this opinion of mine with respect to the
slope of the land from E. to W. It can be plainly remarked there
that the rain-water runs off westward, without paying any attention
to the direction of the current of the Nile, as its boundaries are
now defined by its mountains and high shores.

But now the question is: If my hypothesis of the inclination of these
parts from E. to W. is generally correct, what has induced the Nile
to take a course diverging from it?

I have only to answer to this, that Khartùm already lies considerably
lower than our present course; that further up the country, on
the left shore, considerable mountains rise towards the W.—for
example—those of Kordofàn, which, now at least, do not allow the
river to discharge itself from hence into the Libyan deserts. Indeed,
many contests and physical revolutions must have occurred before
the White Stream crept into its present channel, where it is nearly
stagnant, and which seems scarcely natural in so long a tract.

_Nov. 30th._—Towards morning we set out with a tolerably good
N.E. wind, and soon after sun-rise made four miles[5] an hour; at
six o’clock it was 18, and at noon 28 degrees Reaumur. We sailed
till eight o’clock, S.W., and passed by a small wooded island, the
grassy foreground of which was picturesquely garnished with trees. The
prospect on the stream was shut out from us by four islands, through
which we passed towards the south, and left them right and left at
our side. Among the trees standing in the water were large, white
aquatic flowers, visible even at a distance, which glistened forth
magnificently from a floating world of flowers, in the moist splendour
of the morning. It was the double white Lotus. The sunt-trees stand
in full bloom, and appear, in comparison with the others, to have
been of later growth, as they stand here still deep in the water.

We approached near the largest of the before-named islands, which is
an hour long, and I remarked that it is elevated towards the interior,
in the form of a shield; this is not the case with the others. They
are long and flat islands, pieces separated from the shore, existing
only as long as the wood on their level backs which restrains the
pressure of the waves. They are a proof of a yet uncultivated course
of the stream, in a deserted freshwater basin. The water still
struggles here against the aspiring vegetation. The trees are of
slender growth, but of young and fresh appearance; the moist element
promotes a rich, exuberant growth, and just as speedy a death, with
the usual tropical power of regeneration. In the interior, however,
much stronger trees are found. When we sail towards the south, we
leave this island on the left, and turn again south-west, where the
head (Ras) of a long island ends, and other islands, to the number
of seven, shutting out the back-ground from our view, spread here in
such a manner, that the stream appears like a regular Island-sound,
which can be better seen than described.

The land also to the right of the left shore presents a clearer view,
and beyond the downs, are seen the distant and scarcely elevated old
shores of the stream, which, however, judging from their whitish
colour, do not indicate fertility; and beyond which, indeed, only
isolated copsewood and solitary lank trees could find any subsistence,
as I remarked also yesterday on the right shore. I would much rather
see beech trees and oaks than these eternal mimosas. Oh, thou good
Fatherland! in a distant foreign country we first learn to appreciate
thee truly!

At twelve o’clock, a wooded island with a long green tail, appeared
on our left, and immediately afterwards another on the right, where
the wood stands deep in the water; whilst the islands of the right
shore almost always show lower vegetation. The landscape being
monotonous, I directed my attention more to the scenes on board,
and there surely I found variety enough.

Our lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, from Kurdistan, is a very pious
man—to our good fortune! for piety restrains him from wine and
dram-drinking. This temperance conduces to the tranquillity of
the crew, notwithstanding the predominant inclination of my good
Feizulla Capitan, who will never rest till he has exhausted my
stock of spirituous liquors, so necessary for an European in these
countries. Abd-Elliab says that he has not the Koràn in his head,
but in his heart; and is of opinion that we Christians have only
strayed from the right path, since the prophet Jesus (el Nebi Issa)
was created from God without a father, and that Mohammed understood
better this divine messenger (Ressùl) than we. He plays the part,
also, of a Hakim belèsh (a surgeon who cures gratis) by repeating
pious sentences whilst he ties knots in threads, and binds them round
the neck and hands of the patient; or, praying, and blessing wheat,
he sews it up in little bags as a talisman against fever and the
devil. The Captain, besides his master passion, the incentive to
which, to my great peace of mind, will be soon exhausted, has also
an extremely interesting minor inclination—tailoring and cobbling,
which he pretends to have learnt in England.

Our little black female slaves are right to ornament their noses
with rings, for without them, their flat noses would be lost in
their dark countenance. As usual, the wind almost ceases at noon. We
sailed south with a faint north-east breeze, and make scarcely one
mile. At half-past twelve we passed a long grass island on the left,
the upper part of which was covered with wood; whilst on the right,
another one still extends; and on the left, the high grass of a long
narrow back of an island rises up from the water. After we had passed
five such river meadows, on the right and left, we landed at four
o’clock on the right shore. We found ourselves on the island of
Aba, eight to nine hours’ long, and proportionably broad, although
I had not remarked the commencement of it.

Suliman Kashef was no sooner gone on shore than loud rejoicings,
mixed with the sound of citherns and drums, were heard from thence,
and I was sent for. Every festivity, whether it consists in public
shows, or in singing, dancing, and drinking, is called here also
by the word, usual in Egypt, “fantasie.” The proper expression,
however, is “faragh” (joy, pleasure). The former is also used to
denote a person who is proud and gives himself airs. Therefore the
Turkish “fantasie tshok, paraja jok,” means,—where there is much
conceit and no money. Such a Fantasie of the first description was
taking place on shore, whilst the servants of Suliman Kashef stood
round us, armed and fully equipped. Feïzulla-Capitan was obliged to
be carried by force on board his vessel, and it was fortunate that
he was able, even in this transport, to recognise me. He grasped at
sabre and pistol—I pulled him back: he stamped and cuffed around
him as if he were mad, till I clapped his head and heels together,
threw him on his bed, and held him fast till he had stormed himself
tired, as I would take no notice of his English exclamation—“the
devil!—stop a little!—look!” No one but myself dared to lay
a hand on him. At last he fell asleep, and the sailors called me,
among themselves, “Achù el Bennàht,” and praised my conduct,
being such as they had never witnessed before.

Yesterday, I gave occasion for drawing upon me the hatred of one of
the roughest of the Egyptian sailors, who was sitting with another at
the hand-mill, and repeatedly abusing his companion as a “Nazrani”
(Christian), until at last the whole crew looked and laughed into my
cabin, the captain not being on board at the time. At last I lost
my patience, sprang up, and dealt him a hard blow with my fist on
the nape of his neck. In his fanatical horror at being struck by
a Christian, he attempted to plunge immediately into the water,
and vowed revenge against me, as I heard from my servants.

Now, while Feïzulla Capitan lies senseless, I see from my bed this
long sailor leave the fore-part of the ship, and approach our cabin,
followed by the looks of the rest of the crew. From a fanatic who
might put his own construction on the friendly scene I had just had
with Feïzulla Capitan, and might use it in his own favour, I had
everything to expect. He paused, however, at the door, apologized
and thanked me, for not having reported him to his commander. He then
kissed my right hand, whilst, in my left, I held a pistol concealed
under the covering of the bed.

The Island of Aba does not appear to be entirely inundated, and
therefore, it is covered towards the interior with high grown
wood. It is said, that there are several lions here; I think I saw
one at a distance, but I did not pursue him. We saw large flocks of
guinea-fowls, called here Gedàt el Pharaùn (Pharaoh’s fowls), and
which provided us for some days with roast dainties. “Pharaùn”
is a word of abuse, but it must have been taken rather from the
Koràn than from tradition. I saw many foot-prints of Hippopotami in
the muddy roads, which extend from the East westerly to the river,
and were already dried up. The earth by that means was exceedingly
fertile. Doghen, a kind of corn, commonly used in Kordofan,—bamie,
a vegetable with pods, to be met with from hence up to Greece;—and
Malochië, a species of spinnage, grow wild here. The numerous birds
were very shy, which we attribute to our white dress and red caps.

_1st December._—Half an hour before sun rise, we left the Island
of Aba, and sailed E.S.E., and had a course of 2¼ miles; in the
lapse of an hour this island was on our left. At half past eight
o’clock, we had on our right an island, and on the left the
shore was bare,—a Steppe, with a few trees and copsewood. The
ground beyond and through the trees glimmered, equally bare and
waste, of a yellow colour. This eternal shifting of the islands,
and winding of the vessel, frequently perverts the look and the
prospect of the whole scenery. The Lotus,—the grass extending
itself over the water,—and the high reed grass, filled the space
between the trees. At nine o’clock S.S.W., we pass the Machada Abu
Seïd, before which we have a course of 4½ miles, and immediately
afterwards only 3 miles. At this place, where the stream, owing to
the rocks crossing from E. to W. forms an inconsiderable current,
the water is only 1½ to 2 fathoms deep, and when low, reaches only
up to the knee,—a circumstance which must be taken into account
for our return voyage. Machada Abu Seïd, is equivalent to “Ford
of Abu Seïd,” who, being the patron of navigators, is invoked on
the most trivial occasions, like Abd el Kader, by the Bedouins of
the desert. It is pretended that this same Abu Seïd crossed the
water with his large army, and subdued the people of this place;
many stories are also told of him, how he has assisted navigators
in their need.

Above this ford or reef, on which entire masses of the _Etheria
tubifera_ (Caill) have settled, we passed over the Machada el Ans,
which means “Goat’s Ford;” because, in the dry season of the
year, even goats can walk through here, when they are thrown by the
herdsmen into the water, from one rock to the other.

The lead gives four and a half fathoms between these two Machadas,
the log four miles and a half, and the river has one mile in
rapidity. Small grassy island tracts extend to the left side of the
Nile; and many more islands might, in this manner, continually rise
through the gradual alluvial deposits. The trees are generally of
the dwarf species; and there are only solitary higher ones, which
overtop the others, and have withstood the winds, by reason of the
soil being moistened continually by water. A number of scattered
water-plants form floating islands of large and small dimensions,
frequently presenting quite a surprizing appearance. At noon we
came so close to such an island, which had been held together by a
kind of water couch-grass, and was joined on to the shore, that we
tore off one entire portion of it, and set it moving like a little
aquatic world of the most diversified description of plants. The
base of this floating vegetable world was formed by the pale green
velvet-plant everywhere met with, and which spreads itself like the
auricula, has fibrous roots, and is intermixed with green reeds, but
appears to have no flowers. The stalk-like moss, spreading under the
water, with slender white suckers, like polypi, on the long streaks
beneath, was another principal ingredient in the formation of this
island. Then comes a kind of convolvulus, with lilac-coloured flowers,
with its seeds, like those of the convolvulus, in capsule-like knobs,
and leaves like those of buttercups.

The character of the whole of this island world acquires such a
blooming appearance here, that one believes oneself transported to a
gigantic park situated under water. Entire tracts are covered with
the blooming lotus. The trees, shrubs, and creepers, with their
manifold flowers, enjoy a freedom unknown in Europe, where every
plant is restricted to its fixed season. The life, buds, and bursting
into development of the different plants appear to be arbitrary, for
rain, water, and the height, depth, and quality of the soil have such
effect, that the very same species often display entirely different
stages of progression. From the tall dark mimosas, and other trees,
down to the waving reeds, and the spikes of the high grass shooting
out of the water, a vegetable life spreads with a freshness and
fulness bordering on the marvellous. The splendid leaf-like webs of
lianias form hills of flowers with garlands, and wave and shine afar
in various colours, like magnificent hanging tapestry.

[Illustration: MOUNT N’JEMATI, APRIL 13, 1841.]

It is a strangely beautiful sight to see these exuberant plants,
sparkling in various colours, keeping down the more sturdy
ones. However, on our voyage back, the scene had so altered, that
it was with difficulty we could persuade ourselves that here it was
so wonderfully beautiful before. Together with the various species
of convolvulus, the blooming ambak-tree contributed to enhance the
variety of flowers. The Arabs call it ambak, although they are only
acquainted with its dry light wood, which floats down to them. The
tree grows only in the river itself, or in a swamp, and when the water
recedes, dies away to the root. The rapidity of its growth surpasses
that of the rising of the Nile, and shoots up from ten to fifteen feet
above its highest water-mark. It rises in a conical form out of the
water, but decreases again towards the root, and is, in the middle,
as thick as a strong man’s arm. The wood is throughout of a spongy
nature, and can be called only fibrous pith: it is overlaid with a
dark green rind, which is also furnished with a rough brownish hue
and small imperceptible arcuated thorns. The branches fix themselves
on luxuriant soil, like the acacias with us, and towards the ends
are quite green and rough; the leaves are twinned like those of the
acacia; the foliage is full of sap and green like reeds. The yellow
bean-flower grows single, but in great profusion; it is an inch and
a half long and broad, and has ten stamina round the pistil.

The top of a mountain, of which, at the moment, I could learn no other
name than that of Geb’l Dinka, rose, about nine o’clock, to the
S.S.W. This was a welcome sight to me, as it seemed to promise, from
the distance, something more magnificent than the hills, or would-be
mountains, that had hitherto appeared in the horizon. We make four
miles and a half, and the rapidity of the stream still remains one
mile, although the water before this Machada seems to have no fall,
and only to be set in motion by the pressure from above. At two
o’clock we had on the left, towards the east, Geb’l Dinka, so
termed by navigators, but more correctly called Geb’l N’jemati,
which is said to denote a group of mountain tops. Two rocky ridges
especially project, and seem to belong to the granite formation.

The thermometer was, at sunrise, 18°, at noon, 26°, and from three
to five o’clock 28°, Reaumur. The flower island continues on the
right and left, and we have four miles course. The grass and reed
tract of islands appears on the left shore like pasture-ground, closed
by shady trees in the distant background. At six o’clock, sunrise,
we sailed past the mountain of the Dinkas, which I was glad I had
delineated before, for it presented here nothing picturesque. The
people of the Dinkas (sing. Dinkauï) were not to be seen, because
they had betaken themselves to the interior, to sow their fields
with durra and dòghen. These fields are said to lie in the Chaba;
and it seems probable to me that this forest is situated in a basin,
as in Taka, wherein the rain and effusion of mountain-streams must
be long retained, because otherwise the land would be too dry for
sowing; or the inundation of the Nile seizes those partially, on
old beds of the river, which have been dammed up on the lower side,
and would therefore be dried up if there were no effusion of water.

At some distance from us I was shewn tops of trees, which were
scarcely perceptible, marking the island of the late great Sheikh,
or Mek Abdurachman (Abd el Rahman), who was a chief of the Shilluks
(sing. Shilkaui), and a sworn enemy to the Arabian intruders. On the
former expedition, Suliman Kashef, who had made the acquaintance
of this dreaded chief, and had lost many men by his predatory
expeditions, wanted to convince himself whether he was really dead;
and, in the savageness of his heart, ordered the body to be dug up,
in order that he might convince himself of the fact. They were all
not a little rejoiced at finding the truth confirmed.

Darkness prevented us from distinguishing the complication of islands
which were still continuing. We lay to about eleven o’clock at
Ambak, an island towards the left shore; and the sails being clewed,
we make only two miles and a half in the hour, in order to wait for
the Sandal, which was behind-hand. Immediately close to or down by
these trees, we had four fathoms in depth; and yet they stood some
fifteen feet above the water, which extraordinary height they are
said to attain in one year, for they fall down and wither away when
the water recedes.

Towards evening, a hippopotamus bellowed from the reeds quite close
to us. An old sailor, partaking of the superstition which I have
already mentioned, bid him immediately “Salam aleikum” (peace
be with thee), but he answered not a word; whereupon a peculiar
silence reigned among the crew, who believe in a possible voluntary
or involuntary transformation into beasts by sorcery.

_2nd December._—We set sail before sunrise, towards S.S.W. The rocks
of N’jemati lie to the N.N.E. of us, and on the left a mountain
elevates itself to the S.S.E. at about six hours’ distance. We soon
made three miles and a quarter, and from eight o’clock four and a
quarter, and the breadth of the river was generally estimated at two
miles. Near the reed or marshy islands, a kind of meadow cat’s-tail
grass is prevalent, having a broad flat blade of bright green, in
the middle of which runs a white streak lengthways. This grass has
thick connecting tubes, from which the fibrous roots depend. The
stalk, which is the thickness of a thumb, rises, with knots, to
the height of four to five feet, and is surrounded with numerous
brown leaves, completely inclosing it. It has ears like wheat,
growing in a bunch to the number of five or six, containing grain,
which is eaten by the people. It might be called the low-reed, from
which the high-reed is distinguished by rising to a height of ten
to twelve feet, and having straight knotty stalks, the thickness of
a finger, narrow leaves, and on the top a cluster of leaves, from
which large bulrush ears project, the seeds of which are scarcely
perceptible. Close to this grows the luxuriant water couch-grass,
with drooping blades the breadth of a finger, having a delicate blue
hue; and a dark green aquatic grass, with narrow horizontal blades,
from which branches a rush-like crown of seeds.

Feïzulla Capitan has, at last, entirely exhausted, not only his own,
but also my stock of spirituous liquors, which he used to partake
of in his debauch, as if they had been his own property. His days
of atonement have therefore commenced; he takes the Koràn with a
long face, and puts on the airs of a great Faki, on account of which
Suliman Kashef calls him Hodshà. The great Paradise-Stormer, from
Kurdistan, listens to him with profound devotion, and corrects him
very zealously, for he really seems to know the whole Koran by heart.

After eight o’clock, a large reed island appeared on our
left. Floating couch-grass islands, covered with the pale green
aquatic plants so frequently seen, meet us, and often draw a ship
round with them. The current of the water may separate these islands
from the shore, and disconnect them from the lake; or storms,
and the mighty inhabitants of the stream, when they are forcing
roads with their corporeal masses, may cut them off and set them in
motion. At ten o’clock, for the first time, on the right shore,
Sunt appears on an island with all kinds of shrubs and grasses, and
the aquatic acacia Ambak. The country on the banks of the Nile consist
of, at the same time, a broad pasture-land, with young high grass,
whilst the breadth of the river here is an hour. Towards the South
an endless channel disclosed itself, in which the water vanished by
degrees with the horizon,—a sight which we had not yet seen on the
white stream, and which was very much desired to define the latitude
and longitude. On the left, also, approached an island with the
before-named characteristics. I conclude, however, from the height
of some Sunt-trees, that it had firmer ground towards the interior,
although its beautiful flowering margin displays, as it were,
floating hills of flowers over the copsewood, with their tendrils
and grasses. At eleven o’clock, the log gave four miles and a half,
and at twelve o’clock we were obliged, from want of wind, to lay-to
at an Ambak-island. The wind returned, however, after a short time,
and we sailed through a sea of green grass or reeds, where we saw
over the extensive gently rising right shore a large city of the
Dinkas, though we were not able to approach, owing to the reeds.

The Dinkas were seen at a distance, jumping in the air whilst they
raised one arm, and struck their shields with their spears. This
appeared to me rather a challenge than an expression of joy, as
I concluded from the war-dances, the representation of which I had
before witnessed. Their city is said to stretch far beyond this ridge,
which the trees prevented us from remarking. Long swampy islands, with
reeds and other plants, entwined one with the other, extend from their
country to the middle of the stream. This is the case also, though on
a reduced scale, on the left side. The distance of the shores from
one to another is more than an hour. The reeds form in this manner
a protection, which even when the water is at the highest is not to
be overcome; just as at low water the Machadas form such a defensive
barrier. In the same manner the Shilluks on the left shore have a
marsh of reeds, under water, for protection. The Turks have managed,
however, to come at these two nations by land. Suliman Kashef himself
has twice defeated the Shilluks on the boundary of his district. These
sudden and crafty attacks of a Chasua cannot, however, be called
wars or battles. The animosity of these people to the Arabian hordes
and marauding system goes so far, for example, that when they take
a Bakhàra prisoner, they beat him to death with cudgels, death by
the Harba (spear) being considered too honourable. On the contrary,
they do not kill the Dinkas whom they may take captive, because they
consider them as aborigines and old neighbours. The Arabs, however,
do not slay the Shilluks taken prisoners by them, not so much out of
respect to the Koràn, as from their inherent selfishness. When the
Bakhàras come to the river to graze the cattle in the grass, which,
after the reeds have been burnt away, contains nourishing fodder,
there are continual petty wars between the Shilluks and Bakhàras,
in which the latter display considerable bravery, as Suliman Kashef
himself admits.

At three o’clock in the afternoon, we continue to sail towards
the South in this immeasurable tract of water. On the right and left
are partly grass islands, and partly reedy marshes, which join on to
the shore, and must, when the water is higher, before the overflowed
vegetation has yet made its way to the surface, form a regular long
lake or gigantic stream. After four o’clock we landed on the right
shore, where the white lotus was distinguished in the pools amongst
the trees, with far larger flowers than is the case where neither
shrub nor tree shelters it from the sun. The blue lotus (_Nymphæa
cærulea_) called Loss by the Nubas and Baràbras, appears no longer
here. On the left shore the smoke of signal-fires, certainly the most
ancient kind of telegraph, ascended on all sides. At six o’clock
we sailed again, and halted at a quarter past ten, just as the moon
went down. A soldier plunged into the water and sank as he was about
to touch land, probably seized by a crocodile. At sun-rise 18°, noon
26°, evening 24°, and after midnight, in the open air, 17° Reaumur.

_3rd December._—Half an hour before sun-rise we proceeded,
with a due North wind, towards the South. It was sensibly cold,
though we had 16 degrees of Reaumur. Low and marshy land again at
the side,—partly islands before the shores, properly speaking,
the elevation of which was scarcely perceptible on the left side of
the river. We had seen yesterday and the day before a few solitary
tamarinds. Now they were very abundant, and the various shades of
light and dark green of these beautiful trees, with their luxuriant
foliage, cause a delightful sensation. Their fruit, so grateful in
these parts, with its agreeable tartness, the first and last means of
support of the Ethiopians, is called in the land of Sudàn, Aradepp;
but in Egypt, Tammer-el Hendi (fruit of India); which seems to
indicate no very great commercial intercourse between the Egyptians
and Ethiopians. So also the rich gum-trees of these parts, from
which the ancients derived equally little towards their immeasurable
consumption of gum and resin, have first been used for the purposes
of commerce in more modern times. From nine to ten we advanced four
or five miles. The right shore a magnificent low country. Tamarinds,
creepers of a large species, and the lotus shining in great numbers,
like double white lilies. This stellated flower opens with the rising
of the sun, and closes when it sets. I noticed, however, afterwards,
that where they are not protected in some way from the ardent heat,
they likewise close when the sun approaches the zenith. Some of their
stalks were six feet long, and very porous; from which latter quality
these stems, as well as the flower and the larger leaves—dark green
above, and red-brown beneath, with a flat serrated border,—have
a magnificent transparent vein; but become so shrivelled, even
during the damp night, that in the morning I scarcely recognised
those which I had over night laid close to my bed on the shore. The
ancient Egyptians must, therefore, have been quick in offering up the
lotus. The flower peeps out, however, only a little above the water,
and the fruit sinks downwards, either from natural inclination, or
from the weakness of the stalk, because the water, by the formation
of it, has already fallen. The flower has above twenty tapering
white leaves, arranged around a calix of a yellow gold colour, which
is similar to that of the _Nymphæa_ in our millponds. The fillet,
from one and a half to three inches in diameter, is like a compressed
poppy-head, and ring-like incisions extend from its imperceptible
corolla to the stalk. The extraordinarily small white seed lies in a
brownish, wool-like envelope, and fills the whole capsule. Not only
are the bulbs, as large as one’s fist, of the lotus eaten, but also
the seed just mentioned; they mix it with sesame, and other grain,
amongst the bread-corn, which circumstance I ascertained afterwards,
as we found a number of these lotus-heads strung in lines to dry. To
our taste, the best way to dress the bulbs, and to free them from
the marshy flavour they leave behind in the mouth, is to drain the
water off several times in cooking them; they then taste nearly
like boiled celery, and may be very nourishing; but I would not be a
Lotophagus here, for I had much rather eat potatoes with their jackets
on. Although there are a number of bulbous plants in these parts,
serving for food to the natives, (specimens of which I collected,
but they were spoiled for want of earthen vessels to keep them in,)
yet potatoes might not thrive here any more than in Egypt, which is
far colder, as they would become watery, by the continual irrigation,
this being the case even with the grasses.

We sail S.S.W., make four to five miles, and have on the right
hand grass marsh-islands. The expanse of water before us is limited
only by a tree; to the left also of the right shore, a small ridge
of heights displays itself, which may be considered as isolated
alluvial deposits of downs. Nevertheless, it is sufficiently clear
to me, that it is almost impossible to make an accurate map from
a single voyage; this seems to have struck also the very learned
Arnaud, for he is always consulting Selim-Capitan. Sabatier is ill,
and the task therefore devolved on Arnaud, not only of observing the
course of the river, but also the direction, beginning and end of the
islands, &c., and all this with the windows hung with curtains! He
may find out that the vessel is continually changing its course,
but he could scarcely in this manner make a map of the stream,
even if an air-balloon were placed at his disposal.

Twelve o’clock, five miles, 22°, and at three o’clock, 26°
Reaumur. On the left shore, close to us, is the hill of Giràb el Esh,
(sack of corn), which name has also been given to a Sheikh of the
Shilluks living there, to denote his corpulence, a very rare thing in
that country. We were pretty close to the right shore, the extreme
edge of which rises some three feet above the still high water. The
earth is dark, and here occurs the first precipitous shore we have
seen on the white stream. The marshy world springing luxuriantly on
the left shore, checking the stream, appears to press the current to
the right side of the river, and by that means the water is always
deeper next to the latter side. Marshes, with the usual phenomena,
soon shew themselves again in the primitive bed, properly speaking,
of the stream, so that we were forced again into serpentine windings.

On the right shore, close to the mountain which we had seen on the
2nd of December, at sunrise, and which is the Defafaungh so much
spoken of in Sudàn, high dome-palms, with small heads, rise over
the tamarind-trees. The mountain itself is bare and rocky, and,
except one precipice, descends towards the river without any steep
declivity. So likewise the mountains we had hitherto seen had always
a gentle descent towards the stream, a proof that the waters have not
here undermined or compressed the ribs of the mountains towards the
river, as is the case in Nubia and on the Rhine. Defafaungh stands
there alone, like the mountains Taka, an island, as it were, in an
extensive and dry basin.

At noon we sailed past the rocky hill, four or five hundred feet
high, and went W.S.W. without my having seen through the telescope
the ruins and pyramids (Taralib) of brick (Top ahmer), supposed to be
there. At all events, I shall take care to lie to here on our return
voyage. Soon after appeared, on the left shore, a hamlet consisting
of about twenty huts, shaped of bee-hives. The people did not shew
themselves, because the good name of the Turks has spread even thus
far. The mountain is seen, from the raised deck of the cabin, rising
in the landscape; and we perceive a grassy marsh-island extending
from the right shore, in the form of an arch, into the river, and
forcing it into a direction W.S.W. In this inlet lies the village
I have mentioned, and immediately afterwards a second one. Suliman
Kashef had spied out something with his eagle eyes: he went ashore
to seize some sheep, whilst shots were fired in the air to frighten
the owners. We all followed his good example.

At five o’clock we sailed from hence W., and then W.N.W.; made
three miles, and followed the course of the river to S.W. As the
sun sets, we seem to sail through a blooming park. On the right
shore are isolated dark tamarinds, shining like gold, magnificent
masses of creepers, and bowers of flowers on a green, grass ground,
the blooming lotus shining through them. We extend our gaze across
this island over the country, on the right shore, and perceive only a
few tamarinds. The sun having already set, we turn to W.N.W. The sky,
somewhat clouded, throws splendid masses of shadow, completing the
charming landscape, upon the island, round which the ships moved in
a line, grazing its cheerful verdure. On the right shore the interior
country is somewhat elevated, a circumstance which we noticed at the
abovenamed rocks. Whilst our vessel sails N.W., the others before
us double the bend of the left shore; towards the S.

Night appears; the river turns again N.W., and the north wind, though
scarcely blowing, drives us towards the left, against a vessel,
strenuous rowing being unable to prevent this misfortune. Contention
between soldiers and sailors: no subordination, no nautical skill. The
ships strike every moment one against the other; then follows an
intolerable running here and there of the crew—pushing, throwing
down, hoisting, and bawling; in short, a frightful hurly-burly,
because one wants to sail before the other; and my indifferent
tailor-captain remains quietly at his labour, and sews so much the
more industriously! The Kurd Abdu Elliàb gives himself airs in vain;
although he had told me shortly before this, that no officer in the
whole regiment was so feared as himself, yet the soldiers will not
listen to him, but fight with the sailors. I, for my part, can do
nothing since Feizulla Capitan, who had nominated me, in his absence,
as his Wakil (deputy), was on board. At last we proceeded again till
twelve o’clock at night.

_4th December._—An hour before sunrise, we advanced, with a
N.E. wind, S.S.W., without sails; halted here and there to wait
for two ships tarrying behind, which had run upon the very shallow
ground on the right side of the river, and were obliged to put back
in order to get into the course of the stream; it was 15° Reaumur:
from nine to towards eleven o’clock S.W. On the right two villages,
with huts like beehives, at which we saw three Sürtuks (periaguas)
raised on a tree. In the forest we perceive many Shilluks, who seem
to look upon us as neither enemies nor as friends. Immediately above
this we lay-to at the left shore, to wait for the two ships which we
now saw at a distance. There are no sunt-trees here; on the contrary,
several luxurious tamarinds, which thrive in a damp soil. The Nile
is at this place more than two hours’ broad, including the Grass
Islands. At twelve o’clock, again towards the W., then W.N.W.,
and at 1 o’clock S.W., which direction we followed till sunset at
six o’clock in the evening, and with a very faint breeze.

On the right shore the more elevated land was planted with isolated
dark green tamarinds, a lively contrast to the blue sky; the left
displayed at a distance a bare high shore, on the margin of which
stood a few trees, and before them a grassy sea extended, so that
the river has, with this, a breadth of an hour and a half. The
rapidity of the stream was so inconsiderable here, that the log
gave no result. A shining, white, water-road lay before us; yet,
from a calm having set in, we could only advance but slightly with
rowing. The venomous gnats which, as well as large camel-flies and
small wasps, have made their appearance these three days, become more
abundant, and are said to be found in such quantities further south,
that we shall neither be able to eat, drink, nor sleep.




                              CHAPTER V.

A STORM. — TOKULS OR HUTS OF THE SHILLUKS. — THE TALLE, A
SPECIES OF MIMOSA. — THE GEÏLID. — THE BAMIE. — UEKA. —
WILD RICE. — OMMOS. — THE SHILLUKS A LARGER NATION THAN THE
FRENCH! — IMMENSE POPULATION ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE ARM OF THE
NILE. — THE HABAS OR FORESTS. — A TURKISH JEST! — LEECHES. —
DISEMBARKATION ON THE LAND OF THE SHILLUKS. — DESCRIPTION OF
THE TOKULS. — CONDUCT OF THE BEDOUINS TOWARDS THE PILGRIMS TO
MECCA. — THE MURHAKA. — MANNER OF CATCHING GAZELLES. — SÜRTUKS
OR CANOES OF THE SHILLUKS. — REFUSAL OF THE KING OF THIS NATION TO
VISIT THE VESSELS. — TREATMENT OF HIS AMBASSADORS AT KHARTUM. —
THE BAOBAB TREE. — DHELLEB PALMS. — WINDINGS OF THE RIVER. —
OSTRICHES. — HILLS OF ASHES OF THE DINKAS. — RIVER SOBAB.


5th December.—We had cast anchor yesterday evening in the middle
of the river, partly to prevent our being surprised by the natives,
and partly because landing was impossible, for the shores were a
mere swamp far and wide. The calm continued during night; but, before
daybreak, such a storm suddenly set in, that the ships, dragging after
them the anchors, were slung round, and ran one against the other,
when abuse and blustering on the side of the captain as well as of the
crew vied even with the tempest. It was fortunate that the morning
broke, and that the Habùb changed into a good N.E. wind, enabling
us, for the first time, to make six miles in the hour. The depth of
water was in the night five fathoms and a half, and the rapidity of
the river half a mile. The ships presented a beautiful sight on the
smooth water territory, which, being of a dazzling purple colour,
from the reflection of the clouds driving from the north, drew them
along like two mighty serpents through a green sea of floating grass.

At six o’clock this morning, several villages were seen on the
left shore in the land of the Shilluks. I counted twelve or fifteen
close to one another; and in half an hour afterwards again eighteen
or twenty, the last of which we passed about nine o’clock. We have
still six miles to make, and go W.S.W. for a short time; then again
in the main direction of S.W., where groups of Tokuls, joined to
one another, continue on the left shore, and lie on the old bank of
the river. The Arabs say that this is the capital of the Shilluks,
and is called Dennap. The latter word means, however, the tail of an
animal, and is therefore applied by them to the length of the row of
Tokuls, as being analogous, although the name, properly speaking, is
Kak. The structure of the huts is the same as that of the Tokuls in
Beled-Sudán, with this difference, that the roofs are not conical,
but arched.

Now, at ten o’clock, whilst the river is winding towards the south,
I remark, on the left shore, at about an hour and a half distant, a
large village, connected probably with the others, which are concealed
only by trees. Before it lies an extensive marshy meadow-land. On
the right shore is displayed a yellow line of the dry high grass,
because, owing to its height, the shore here is less exposed to
inundations. The channel of the river receives through this course
of the genuine shore an enlargement scarcely to be defined, whilst
the trees of the old left bank extend in a narrow close line, which,
at this moment, (half-past six o’clock,) is certainly two hours
long. The right shore continues flat, and forms, like the left, an
immeasurable grassy sea, the limits of which cannot be distinguished
even from the highest point of the vessel; for the isolated yellow
tracks, though almost imperceptible, may be likewise little fertile
elevations in the marsh land, tamarinds being scattered right
and left. The stream covering all these grasses, which are but of
young growth, must have formed here, therefore, a short time ago,
a regular lake.

In the low ground lying close to the river, which the tamarinds I
saw yesterday shew to be dark marsh ground, I, for the first time,
examined closely, a kind of mimosa, called talle, distinguished by
its reddish rind from the whitish rind of the tamarind, the boughs
of which are twisted nearly like those of oaks. The rind of the
talle-tree is used like that of the geïlid, to be burnt as a perfume:
a little also, grated, and strewn on the merissa, gives it a piquant
flavour. The geïlid is in its whole form like the pear-tree, only
its leaves are smaller, and the esculent fruit is similar to an olive.

Towards eleven o’clock we sailed S.E. On the left hand a regular
lotus-sea extended to the right shore. The lotus must, no doubt,
have once existed in Egypt in similar exuberance amongst analogous
circumstances of marshy soil, before it could have been reckoned among
the means of subsistence. The yellow colour which I at first took for
dry reeds, proceeded from the dry stalks of the bamie (called Uèka),
which cover the land, elevated about four feet on the right shore,
to an immeasurable distance, and suffer no other plants to rise
among them, as they grow quite close. The fruit, here very small
and rough, had, without being gathered, burst altogether from the
husks. At noon we proceeded Eastward, and the N.E. wind drove some
of the vessels into the stream towards the shore on the other side,
so that we were obliged to have recourse to towing; then arose the
usual contention about precedence.

At one o’clock we lay-to at the Bamien shore. The soil is tolerably
good, and black, though strongly mixed with sand; and the few
geïlid trees upon it have acquired an unwonted strength. Numerous
nests of sparrows and finches were perched on the dry stalks of the
bamie, and feed on its seeds. This uèka is plucked whilst green,
cut through, and dried, ground fine in the hand-mill (Murhàka),
and serves throughout the country for broth to the farinaceous
food. There were four villages in our neighbourhood, and we observed
palms at about an hour distant.

At two o’clock we left this place, and had recourse again to
Libàhn, however unwillingly the crew betook themselves to this
towing. Further on we descried villages, and as far as the eye could
reach, the land was all covered with uèka, fields of which sloped
with a gentle descent to the river, though the young plants had been
invisible, till the present time, upon the parts already dry. It does
not appear to me probable that these fields have been sown by the
hand of man, for otherwise the old stalks would have been removed,
unless they are left to protect the young plants from the heat of the
sun, till they are able to cover the ground with their own foliage;
for artificial irrigation is not to be thought of here. The Dinkas,
who inhabit these regions, as well as the Shilluks, on the left shore,
besides living on corn (Durra and Doghen), feed on the fruit of the
geïlid, frequently met with here, and on the seeds of the various
species of high grass, denominated, so significantly, “Children
of Grass” (Genna el Gesh), to which also a kind of wild rice (Rus
Suhillkai) belongs. They also feed on cattle, sheep, and goats,
and do not despise the flesh of the crocodile, or the hippopotamus.

In the afternoon our course was generally S.E. From the deck two
rivers are seen, which join and separate, whilst meandering through
the indefinitely extended green grass lake. At five o’clock we
directed our course W.S.W., and the lingering north wind setting in,
allowed us to make use of our sails. The wild bamies still continue,
intermixed here and there with Ommòs (Italian Ceci), a sweet fruit,
with a pod, much liked in Egypt. On the right shore, otherwise bare,
we see here and there a tree, and an arm of the stream stretches
far into the land.

Towards sunset the sky was somewhat clouded, but so much the more
magnificent appeared the broad tranquil river, expanding before us,
and in which our ships were reflected, as in a mirror, whilst solitary
small islands floated around us in all the lustre of green and
gold. The left shore is covered with trees, and the horizon bounded
by solitary huts. We halt when it becomes calm; but at my persuasion,
take to our oars till we come up to Suliman Kashef’s vessel. About
nine o’clock we sail S.W. with the N.E. wind blowing up, and make,
up to half-past one o’clock, three miles in the hour. Southwards
till the evening. Depth of the stream, in the middle of which we
anchored, four fathoms.

_6th December._—At day-break S.W. by S., five miles. At some
distance from the left shore villages, said to continue in an unbroken
line, on account of which the Kurd thinks that the Shilluks are a
larger nation than the French. An enormous meadow land lies in the
water before the river’s edge, upon which tokuls are observed,
at not quite an hour’s distance, called Biut (from Beit-House),
because these huts, as it is said, are somewhat different in form from
those commonly met with in the land of Sudàn. The right shore joins
the horizon in a wide creek, and approaches us again at half-past
eight o’clock, when we are sailing S.W., whilst the villages on
the deserted ancient shores, extend from west to south. The large
villages of the Dinkas appear now on the right bank, with a marshy
foreground of three quarters of an hour in breadth, having a very
monotonous appearance, and being almost without a tree. Opposite lie
two large villages, honoured with the name of Helle (City), upon
gently elevated downs, in an elliptical arch. The larger city may
contain about one hundred tokuls, and is said, according to Selim
Capitan, to be called Minianàk. Immediately afterwards four other
villages appeared; the projecting wood did not permit us to discover
any others that there might have been. The bare shore of the Dinkas
is enlivened by six large villages, and a seventh appeared on the
horizon S.S.W.: they lie an hour and a half distant from the water,
and certainly the enormous Bamian field, by its slightly undulating
form, concealed from our sight yesterday many villages. Here also,
as among the Shilluks, it is said that Helles join one to the other in
a line, for the space of several days’ journey. Four miles course,
and half a mile the rapidity of the current. The villages on the
right shore lie generally higher than those on the left.

There is certainly no river in the world the shores of which are,
for so great a distance, so uninterruptedly covered with habitations
of human beings. We cannot conceive whence so many people derive their
nourishment. There are some negroes on the left shore, lying without
any clothing on them, in the grass; therefore the ground cannot be
covered to any height with water. They made gestures, and greeted us
with uplifted arms; but our people thought that we could not trust
such a friendly welcoming, for they might have concealed their spears
in the grass, in which, perhaps, a whole troop of men were hidden.

Neither these Shilluks nor the Jengähs, up the river, possess horses
or camels, but merely sheep and cows. When they take a horse or camel
from the Turks, they do not kill it—probably not eating the flesh
of these animals,—but put out its eyes as a punishment for having
brought the enemy into their country. Those animals, being introduced
from Asia, may indeed, with difficulty, withstand the marshy nature of
this land, as may be inferred from what usually takes place in Taka,
where, on account of their great mortality during the damp season,
they are driven to the more elevated parts (Gallas). Whether a kind
of animal worship lies under their not killing these beasts, I do
not venture to determine. Towards the south the shores contract,
and the villages also approach nearer to the river.

At half-past nine o’clock the left bank, close at hand, presented
a real forest of tamarinds, which also traverses the lower covered
pasture-land, or follows, in an irregular form, the newer line
of the shore, caused by the descent of the stream. An incredible
number of birds appear on all sides; these airy attendants of
the marshes devour terrestrial animals, which perish through the
overflow of water, and would otherwise entirely poison the air,
as in Egypt. The trees, standing singly, are, for the most part,
quite white, from the excrement of the birds, and naturally die
away. On the old undulating left shore are as many as eight villages;
to the left hand, two long rows of the peaks of tokuls, distant,
perhaps, about two hours’ journey; those on the right hand being
half an hour from our course. The old banks, however, do not come
close to the river, as we at first thought, but appear to have their
main direction towards S.W. The stream winds in two arms through the
grass, marshy meadow-land, which is at least two hours’ in breadth,
and seems once to have formed the bed of the primitive stream. The
right shore is bare, without trees, and possibly, from its higher
situation, prevents the Nile from producing any green land. On the
contrary, we see in the hollow on the right hand, five or six heads
of palms, appearing to be dome-palms.

About twelve o’clock, we remark in the bare horizon, on the left
hand, nine villages of the Dinkas; and on the right, immediately
behind the trees of the low country, generally on a level with the
river, only raised here and there, seven villages of the Shilluks,
on the borders of the green vegetation lying in front of them. The
meadows before these villages are skirted indeed by trees, but
between them, and in the background, no vegetation, except copsewood
on parched grass-land, is discerned; whereas on the right shore,
where the villages may be from two to two hours’ and a half from
us, not a tree is to be seen on the enormous grass plain,—not even
near the huts themselves. We sail S.W., half-past twelve o’clock,
where to the right of the left shore, some groups of huts extend
in a bamien field, which is already parched, and bounded in the
back-ground by trees in full verdure. When the inundation takes place,
it is impossible that these huts can be inhabited, from their low
situation. An island, with two hills, extends to the right side of
the shore.

Whilst Suliman Kashef’s vessel was making a bend before us, in
order to sail on the other side, Feïzulla Capitan, who was standing
aloft, on the cabin, determined to keep on his course. Suliman
Kashef no sooner remarks this, than he sends two shots at Feïzulla
Capitan, so close that I myself, who was standing before the door
of the cabin, heard the balls whistle. The latter remained quietly
standing, although, according to his own assertion, as well as that
of the sailors who were aloft repairing the sails, the balls flew by
within a hand’s breadth of his head: he merely said, “Malesh—hue
billàb” (it is nothing—he is jesting). Feïzulla also shot twice;
pointing, however, the gun in an opposite direction, that so Suliman
Kashef might see that he took the friendly greeting as a Turkish joke,
and being a bad shot did not dare to aim at him.

On the left side of the river, six small villages, of from twenty
to fifty huts, between groves of sunt-wood; at the right side,
in the distant horizon, ten villages, some of them long and large,
and having treeless, immeasurable, Nile-meadows before them. We see
also now on the left shore, behind the trees, habitations as far as
which the water appears to reach. Therefore the river, including the
marshes under water, which are its limits, must be at least three
hours’ broad. The villages denoting best the direction of the
old shore, and between which the present stream arbitrarily winds,
extend now (about two o’clock) from east to west. We counted in
the space of an hour, seventeen large and small villages.

We sail S.S.E. into an arm of the Nile, which continues to become
narrower, and where we at last stick fast on the grass, for it
contracted itself to the length of our bark. Happily the river here
is not so deep but that we could make use of our long poles, whilst
the wind helped us, in some measure, to break through this short
passage. We did this in order to gain a wider arm in W.S.W. and S.W.,
wherein the principal stream seems to flow, the water, shortly before,
being entirely stagnant. The sailors, who had jumped into the water
on this little error in our course, came again on board with leeches
sticking to their bodies, the first and only ones I have seen in
the land of Sudàn.

A calm set in; but towing on ground of such a nature was not to be
thought of. Besides, we had no wood, so we landed in the country
of the Shilluks, near large sunt-trees; amongst them one was
distinguished by a circumference of fifteen feet. Some houses lay
there upon a low island, still surrounded with water, from which the
people had fled; we found in one of them a dog, which I protected
from the wanton cruelty of the crew, by laying claim to him as my
property. This faithful beast was of the shepherd-dog breed, similar
to those seen in Turkey. The tokuls have the already-mentioned arched
roofs of meadow-grass (called Halfa), and their walls are of reeds
and poles, as thick as a man’s arm, and plastered inside and out
with a clay-like under layer of the Nile slime. It appears that
they try to harden this circular wall before placing on the roof,
by a large fire lighted in the interior, as is the custom also in
the mountains near Fàzogl, for the walls displayed an extraordinary
solidity, considering they were of burnt clay. The door is an oval
hole, through which we stooped to enter, and it is also of good
service when poking such a fire. We found here several household
utensils, none of which I ventured to lay claim to, although they
could have no other value for the people than that of momentary
use. My three servants no sooner remarked that I was pleased with
these things, than, laughing at my scrupulous conscience towards
these “Abit,” they stole some of the utensils behind my back,
whilst we were sitting and eating together, and carried them to the
ships. They said afterwards that the Shilluks must have left these
things lying in their houses for us to take them. On this excuse,
I remembered what the Bedouins (Beduàn, _sing._ Bedaùi) did,
when Mohammed Ali forbade them to take tribute from the pilgrims
travelling to Jerusalem and Mecca; they forced the pilgrims to drop
upon the ground as much money as they thought sufficient, and then,
pretending to find it after the caravan had passed, took possession
of it.

Besides some pretty platted mats, we found here larger and
more beautiful clay vessels, in the form of the Burma, than in
Sennaar. They were extraordinarily light, and of a black colour,
for the slimy clay there, piled up in strata, and kneaded together
into balls, as thick as the fist, displayed a dark colour, and must
undergo an excessive cleansing before being used for that purpose. As
there are no stones here, between which meal can be ground, they
make use of a murhàka of clay, a plate three or four fingers thick,
blunted at the four corners, having a rough, solid crust, and on
which they grind their corn off hand with an artificial stone. In
the land of Sudan they use for a murhàka a block of granite,
presenting above a flat surface, so that the corn poured on it, by
handfuls, rolls off neither to the right nor to the left. A female
slave kneeling triturates the corn to a meal, with an oval stone,
which she holds in both hands. From the sloping position of the
granite block, this meal runs off, and is received in a piece of
leather or cloth, laid under this simple mill. I saw a Murhàka of
this form in the Museum at Berlin. These last-mentioned stones are
found on the Island of Rügen, and have a hole in the middle, owing
to the continual rubbing, exactly as we see in Inner Africa. This
grinding is a very troublesome process, and the arms of the poor
creatures condemned to it acquire an unusual form.

As bread is the mainstay in these lands, in the form of flat cakes,
often as fine and thin as wafers, a slave can only make meal for eight
persons, if she works from morning to evening; and this is even taken
as a standard. Besides that murhàka of clay, which is mixed with
slime and roots, although the pure blue clay lies at a small depth,
I saw also large broken mortars in the earth, made of the very same
materials. In order to repair these, they make a hole in the ground,
smearing the inside with clayey thick slime, and light a fire in it,
when the mortars become as smooth and dark as if they were made of
cast iron. A pestle of hard wood is used to prepare an oil from the
simsin and garrua (_ricinus_).

We also found a large net used for the chase, with bells, made
of the fruit of the doum-palm, which is similar to that of the
cocoa-tree. They spread this net around the gazelles and antelopes,
who, on touching the meshes (made of the inner bark of trees) are
frightened at the clattering of the bells, and rush along it to the
hostile ambush, where they are killed with javelins. They have also
another method of seizing the gazelles and taking them alive. They
know the foot-prints of these animals, and what food, in the way of
shrubs, is most pleasing to them. Here the huntsmen lay under the
dense foliage of brushwood, large traps, which are covered round
about to their centre with small lanceolate flat bamboo plants,
in such a manner that an opening remains in the middle, where the
points concentrate, and this gives way on anything stepping on it,
so that the animal is caught by his leg in this prickly plate,
and thereby being hindered from escaping, is easily taken.

We found also some well-baked and polished pots, filled with tobacco,
the before-named rice of the Shilluks, and other seeds of grasses. The
strip of shore whereon we found ourselves was narrow, and a few days
previously had been deserted by the water; the lower part of the
tokuls not having suffered from it, because, even at high water,
there is but little current.

All up the country are grass swamps, with sunt-trees, and between
them some huts, which could not have been then inhabited. Boats, with
people in them, rowed here and there in the grass, to watch us. On
the right shore we remark five villages—the largest might contain
200 houses. The bank of the river here is gently elevated to about
10 feet, as is the case nearly always in the direction of villages a
little distant. Some of our soldiers, native Shilluks, who were like
slaves among the troops, have been sent out to treat with the people.

The Sultan or Bando of the Shilluks, in the preceding year, on the
arrival of the first expedition, fearing a hostile invasion, collected
here several thousand men. On that occasion the Turks remained two or
three days, in order to come to terms with him; and he presented them
with cattle and sheep. We expect, therefore, now, the arrival of the
Bando, to whom a present of a red upper garment, red cap (tarbùsh,
in Turkish, fessi), and glass beads, has been sent. A heavy boat,
or rather a periagua, hollowed out from the trunk of a tree, lies
here. Thibaut, in his spiritual humour, wanted, or pretended to want,
dry wood, and ordered his servants to hew to pieces this boat, which,
perhaps, had been made half a year; but the sunt-wood having become
black from being in the water, was as strong as iron, and defied all
the efforts of the hatchet. A canoe of this kind is called sürtuk.

_7th December._—We have not yet seen the king of this great nation,
which may amount to 2,000,000 people, according to Suliman Kashef’s
declaration, if it be true, that there are large gohrs fed by the
Nile in the interior, whereon the villages lie equally as crowded as
here on the main stream, who has not made his appearance. He dwells,
however, only two or three hours’ distance from the river; and we
hear throughout the night the large war-drums (Nogàra) beating in
our neighbourhood—a proof that they mistrust us. I am also persuaded
that if Suliman Kashef had once got the dreaded Bando of the Shilluks
on board, he would have certainly sailed away with him. I read this
in his countenance when he received the intelligence that the Bando
would not appear. Willingly as I would have seen this negro king,
yet I rejoiced at his not coming for this shameful treachery to be
practised upon him. Besides, he had also no cause to welcome the
Muslims, these sworn enemies of his people; for, shortly before
our departure for the white stream, he had sent three ambassadors
to Khartùm, to place himself on a friendly footing with the Turks,
and thus to check the marauding expeditions of his Arab neighbours,
in which Kurshid Basha and Suliman Kashef had played a principal
part. These three Shilluks, who were masters of the Arabic language,
were treated in the divan with the usual contempt, as “Abit,”
and were handed over to the Sheikh el Beled of Khartùm, to be
entertained as common men. This Sheikh, who, receiving no pay, and
having to bear the burden of everything, performs the duties of his
office more from fear than for the honour, regaled these imperial
messengers so magnificently that they came to us Franks, and begged
some girsh (piasters) for bread and merissa. To procure them a better
reception in the divàn, I represented to Abdalla Effèndi that
he would by such treatment draw upon him the anger of the Basha,
who was absent in Taka. He really would have presented them on the
next day with dresses of honour, but they went away by stealth on
the same evening. Now, I heard privately, through my servants, from
our messengers to the Shilluks, that the Bando accepted, indeed,
the garments, but abused the donors, and said that he would receive
and welcome his equals, such as Mohammed Ali, and not his slaves.

I had not seen the baobàb-tree, which, as I learned in conversation,
was in the neighbourhood of our landing-place. This gigantic tree,
attaining a circumference of 60—nay, even of 120 feet, as one is
said to be, near Fàzogl, is called in the land of Sudàn _Homera_,
and its fruit _Gungulés_. So also the date-tree is called _Naghel_,
and its fruit _Tammer_, or _Bellàgh_.

Half an hour before sunrise this morning, we left the prodigious
sunt-trees, which had yesterday afforded us such excellent shade. With
a fresh north wind we sail S.W. by W., and make four miles. The
idea of enticing the king of the Shilluks by a new experiment,
was abandoned. On the level surface of the right side of the river
we observe ten pastoral villages, appearing to be surrounded with
enclosures (Seriba), as a protection against wild beasts. No villages
containing tokuls are seen; these are found further up the country,
in the Gallas, as our Dinkas tell me. In the land of the Shilluks
twenty-one villages shew themselves within an hour and a half. We
pass by twelve villages in an hour. On the contrary, we see only four
in the land of the Dinkas, on the opposite side. Eight o’clock,
W.S.W., five miles. The villages of the Shilluks are in a line, close
to one another, and form many pretty groups between the trees, whilst
the huts of the Dinkas cover monotonously the flat shore, upon which
few or no trees rise. I counted again, up to ten o’clock, fifteen
villages, the last of which was distinguished by its picturesque
position and large trees. Three baobàbs stand before the hut, which
extend in two groups upon a gently curved neck of land, with their
small cupola roofs. One of these trees is dead; the second a ruin;
the third, as well as a fourth, in the upper part of the village,
is in a living-dead state, for it has only a few leaves. This is
the already known African giant-tree (_Adansonia digitata_).

One of the things especially giving a beautiful effect to the
landscape, besides the doum-palms, protruding over the mimosas, is
the aspiring slender Dhelleb-palm. It has a stem like that of the
date-tree, which swells somewhat in the middle, and decreases towards
the top. In the inlets, from whence these picturesque necks of land
project into the stream, I perceived, to the left side of the shore,
villages in all directions, forming a magnificent whole, whilst
the right shore was bare, and at this time had only two villages to
shew. The river forms its grass-islands, as before, and the villages
unfortunately retreat to the old line of the shore from east to south;
whilst we, with a brisk north wind, sail W.S.W. six miles. Half an
hour beyond, the villages, green, marshy meadow-land, up to the old
shore, appearing to denote the forest, to which the Nile approaches
in an extensive curve, and forms near us, on the right, a grassy river
pasture. I should like to see a map, accurately marking these creeks,
subordinate arms, and natural canals, extending into the country,
with the proximity and distance of the villages from the shore.

Whilst we approach the forest on the left bank, we observe several
crocodiles before us, who are not alarmed at the rustling of our ships
through the water. At half-past ten I stand on deck, and count again
seventeen new villages of the Shilluks. It is very certain that the
bay before alluded to spreads to nearly an hour’s breadth in the
left shore. At eleven o’clock I see, on this side, an unlimited
thriving grass plain, extending on a level with the water, at the
most distant point of which a city is seen, said to be about three
hours distant. The verdure shews that the river overflows the whole
country; therefore it may be possible for individual families, during
the inundation, to remain in the tokuls, lying close to the river,
because they are always somewhat elevated, and the water can spread
itself over a place of such a nature, but cannot ascend to any height.

On every side rise dhellèb-palms, but most of the villages
are without them, and generally without trees at all. It seems
inconceivable that none should be planted, for their shade is
so extremely grateful in this climate. The natives always take
the nearest trees, for the building materials of their tokuls,
and never reflect that they may be sorry for this when the sun
ascends the horizon. In their most pressing necessities they only
provide for the moment, and therefore may not be inclined to plant
for the future, or for their children. Immediately after eleven
o’clock we sail close to the right shore, where two villages lie
on yellow bare elevated downs; they are distinguished from those
of the Shilluks by pointed roofs and a slovenly construction. Near
the upper miserable Dinka city, where the lower walls of the tokuls
are not even plastered, nine dhellèb-palms are found; eight stand
together, and afford a beautiful sight. Four of these bear fruit;
the others are male trees. The horizon, towards the left shore is
covered with sixteen villages, and again we have a beautiful group
of dhellèb-palms, mimosas, and baobàbs. The dhellèb, as far as
it was known to the Ethiopians of Meroë, might have given the form
to the pillars swelling in the middle; otherwise such columns appear
to be contrary to nature; but we also find the same form in the Ambak.

About twelve o’clock we see, on the right side of the river,
six ostriches walking about. This sight Suliman Kashef cannot
withstand. We go ashore therefore, but the ostriches do not seem
to trust us strangers: they stride up the country, and run away,
directly the first shot sounds in their ears. The shore here gently
rises from ten to twelve feet; and the hill, which might once have
counted many huts where now only a few cabins are seen, rose some
six feet higher. Behind it, the whole surface of the earth falls
away, and the Nile is seen at a distance flowing near other Dinka
villages, and ending in a narrow channel, deep in the land. A number
of potsherds lay around; and those small heights I had taken at a
distance for ant-hills, as these had often come before me in the
Taka country, were hills of ashes. The Dinkas, who here chiefly
lead a pastoral life, make on these hills their fires, and raking
away the warm ashes, and collecting them in a circular form, lie
down and sleep upon them, on account of the damp nights, for they
go naked like the Shilluks. The cattle also are tied to stakes, in
a circle around these hills of ashes. Now I could explain the livid
colour of the people; for no religious custom enjoins the strewing
of ashes on the body; and washing is not one of their practices,
as is only too plainly remarked by the slaves coming from thence.

Opposite to us lay seven villages of the Shilluks. We had seen,
at an earlier period, several of those Sürtuks (boats) erected
within the shade of trees, in the country of the Shilluks; but
here they are of an unusual length, and seem to be made of the
dhellàb-palm. In the afternoon, level land abounded on all sides. We
again approached the left shore. The stream flows in a picturesque
semicircle before a beautiful pasture-ground, upon which are found
doum and dhellèb-palms, mimosas, and other trees, forming a strong
contrast to the blue sky. Between them eight villages are scattered,
at which several people have collected under the protecting shade of
two baobàbs, and gaze at us with astonishment. The Haba, or forest,
either loses itself here, or extends beyond the horizon. Opposite,
only one village, containing tokuls, with more pointed roofs,
lies upon the arid ground; and a small river there seems to flow
into the great stream, if it be not itself an arm of the river,
having a considerable fall. We sail S.W., and make three miles
whilst the river has the rapidity of one mile. On the right shore
merely a doum-palm rises here and there from the immeasurable plain,
whose low grey circumference, untouched by water, can scarcely be
seen on account of the distance. At three o’clock five villages,
in a low country, rich in palms; on the right shore, in front, only
one village is to be seen, and the horizon before us is closed by
nine villages. About four o’clock S.S.W.; on the left all flat
to the forest, which again approaches nearer in an extensive sweep,
but consists only of bad trees and underwood.

It is five o’clock, and we sail S.W. to the mouth of a river coming
from Habesh, and on that account called Bahr el Makada. We halt,
and Selim Capitan and our engineers ascertain the latitude, in order
to determine the mouth of this river, which may be here five hundred
paces broad. It has six fathoms in depth, and two miles in rapidity;
whilst the Nile has only three fathoms in depth, and half a mile in
velocity. It is said to come from the east, but that remains to be
proved on our return voyage. The Arabic name of the river is Sobàt,
though we hear it called also Sibàt and Subàt. Downs rise before and
on it, from whence we perceive, at the setting sun, eleven villages
between doum-palms, on the right shore of the White Stream, which,
dividing here far and wide into several arms, raises a doubt which
we shall choose to-morrow. The river Sobàt forms the limits of the
country of the Dinkas.

The nation of the Nuèhrs begins on its left shore, and dwells up the
Nile from hence—the Shilluks still continuing on the left shore. We
learn from our negroes that the Sobàt is called Tah by the Dinkas,
who give the name of Kir to the white stream, and Tilfi by the
Shilluks dwelling opposite. It disembogues itself under 9° 11′
north latitude. When I returned to the vessel from my excursion, at
sunset, I had an attack of fever, which is very inconvenient for me
here on the white river. We chose our anchorage far from the shore,
in a kind of lake; therefore the fires or torches of the Shilluks
in the grass, flickering here and there, might keep the crew awake,
but could not frighten them. The continual drumming must indeed have
destroyed the illusion of the Shilluks, that they could swim to us,
or surprise us with their canoes whilst we were sleeping.




                              CHAPTER VI.

ANT-HILLS. — TRIBE OF THE NUÈHRS. — THE JENGÄHS. — KAWASS
OR SERJEANT MÁRIAN FROM MOUNT HABILA. — DESCRIPTION OF HIM. —
TOKULS OF THE JENGÄHS. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GAZELLES. —
THE RIVER N’JIN-N’JIN. — WORSHIP OF TREES. — THE GALLAS
OR STEPPES. — BLACK COLOUR OF THE RIVER. — NEW SPECIES OF
PLANTS. — THE BITTERN AND IBIS. —“BAUDA” OR GNATS: THEIR
DREADFUL STING. — LIEUT. ABD-ELLIÀB’S CRUELTY TO HIS FEMALE
SLAVE. — THE TOKRURI OR PILGRIM. — CURIOUS SUPERSTITION WITH
REGARD TO THESE MEN. — MOUNTAIN CHAIN OF NUBA. — PAPYRUS ANTIQUUS
OR GIGANTIC RUSH. — GAZELLE RIVER. — DEAD FISH. — DIFFERENT
SPECIES OF SNAKES. — ARABIC SONGS AND FESTIVITY ON BOARD. —
JENGÄHS SUPPOSED TO BE WORSHIPPERS OF THE MOON: THEIR MANNER OF
TATOOING. — STRIFE BETWEEN THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. — ANTIPATHY
OF THE FRENCH ENGINEERS TO EACH OTHER. — LOCUSTS. — TORMENT OF
THE GNATS: THEIR VARIOUS SPECIES. — BARBARITY OF THE TURKS ON THE
FORMER EXPEDITION. — MARVELLOUS STORIES OF THE ARABS. — HATRED
OF THE NATIVES TO THE TURKS.


8th December.—At day-break we proceed towards S.W. with north-west
wind; three miles. At nine o’clock N.N.W. We see from the deck
sixteen villages on the left shore; on the right, close to the
border of the river, a number of little hills, overgrown with
sward, and therefore, perhaps, formerly strongholds of ants, like
those characteristic hills of ashes, which would seem to denote an
ancient pastoral station. Further inland are distinguished, on the
ancient old shore, up to which all is bare, two large villages. The
stately palms also on the right, appear now to lose themselves in
the extensive plain. We go N.W., and make five miles.

About ten o’clock, I surveyed on the right twenty-one villages,
in the country of the Shilluks, on a green plain, in which, with
the exception of some palms, there were no trees, and which took up
the whole horizon from W. to N.E. Ou the left hand, the neighbouring
right shore was nearly bare. Whilst we sail to N.W., two mountains,
the one in front appearing to be covered with wood, rise in the S.W.,
at a distance of three or four hours.

At half-past eleven o’clock, we go on shore to the left, in the
country of the Nuèhrs, to take in wood for ten or fourteen days,
as it is said that there are merely reeds further up. No sunt
presented itself here, but stunted geïlids and miserable ebony,
which, however, cannot be cut, owing to its hardness. On the left
shore here, are the boundaries of the Shilluks, and the Jengähs
follow. An extensive green meadow, with neither trees nor houses on
it, separates these two tribes.

The Kawass (serjeant) on board our vessel, gives me much welcome
information on the condition of this people. He is called Màrian,
from Mount Habila, and is the son of the murdered Mak, or King of
all the mountains of Nuba, a hundred and eighty in number, according
to him, and subject formerly to his father, who was slain by the
Turks. He was made a slave, and was obliged, as being such, to change
his name from Uadassa to that of Marian. He is of middle height, has
a regular black countenance, with vertical streaks on the temples;
on the forehead he is tattooed, and has ten holes at the edge of
each ear, from which the Turks have taken his gold rings. He is a
sensible and modest man; has been in the service thirteen years, and
understands it, but has not been able to gain promotion, because he is
entirely forgotten, and has no one to make the necessary intercession
for him: his young son, however, was preserved at the time, and
Marian’s uncle, who pays tribute to the Turks, has appointed him
his deputy. Marian perceives that his tribe cannot do anything, even
with the greatest bravery, against fire-arms, and therefore does not
wish to acquire his freedom again by deserting. Besides this man,
there are two Dinkas, a Shillkaui, and a Jengäh, on board, though
hitherto I have found it impossible to learn the slightest thing from
them about the manners and customs of their country, because they
consider that such information would be treachery to their countrymen.

At one o’clock, we got again under weigh towards S.W., and kept
more to the left side of the river. About half-past two o’clock,
we saw the first tokuls of the Jengähs, which are far more slovenly
built than those of the Shilluks; they stand a quarter of an hour
distant from the shore, near a single dhellèb palm: we landed near
them. A sürtuk lay there, forty feet long, with vertical sides and
pointed ends; the stern of the boat, although made of hard timber,
is closed diagonally by a piece of wood: it appeared to be hewn
out of the trunk of a dhellèb palm. A beautiful kind of mimosa,
with thick foliage and yellowish red flowers, like floss silk,
struck me especially. The blue clay soil was full of foot-prints of
river buffaloes, several of whom shewed themselves yesterday evening,
and blew their sackbuts stoutly.

We saw also this morning, for the first time, two giraffes, called,
however, Saràff, and said to be very abundant here. As there was
nothing to be gained, and no people shewed themselves, we left the
place. Soon afterwards we saw a village on the same side, with some
dhellèb and doum palms; near it a river, running from N.W. by W.,
flows into the white stream, which, however, was taken for an arm
of the latter. I subsequently ascertained from our Jengäh Bachit,
that the name of this little river is N’jin-N’jin, and goes far in
his country towards W. He called the white stream Kih, and afterwards
Kidi. The sounds in their language are really inarticulate, and they
can hardly pronounce an Arabic word so sharply as our characters
require.

Up to five o’clock, we had on the right shore, before which a
green margin lies in the water, thirty-four villages of the Nuèhrs,
each containing from twenty to a hundred and more tokuls. Only a few
of these enjoy the shade of trees. I believe it to be certain, that
where Nature has once planted propitiously a shoot, and this shoot,
by its growth, has triumphed over the voracity of beasts, and the
wantonness of man, or stood beyond the reach of their necessities,
the tree may easily become an object of veneration to people living
in a state of nature, owing to the shade it affords to meetings in
the open air.

We sail continually N.W., with slight deviations to one side or the
other. We advance three miles, an arm of the Nile scarcely 200 paces
broad. There is said to be a larger arm on the left side, as appears
also to be the case on the right, where we saw a man take his little
canoe on his head, and carry it to the houses near at hand. The right
shore has here no habitations of the Nuèhrs; beyond the river’s
edge, and also behind the houses the Galla, or Steppe, is visible. The
before-named mountains on the right shore, the larger one of which
is almost covered with masses of rock, appearing at a distance like
large trees, and behind which three smaller curly heads follow,
have vanished towards the south. We sail N.W. by W., and another
considerable mountain appears on the flat grassy scene towards N.W.,
whilst we anchor, at sunset, in the middle of the river. Our Bakhi
(who was taken prisoner from Bakhara, and was previously called Denn)
did not know the name of the hilly ridge lying in the mountainous
country of the Jengähs. The N’jin-N’jin, however, which he also
calls Kih, meaning the same as river, or water, is said to flow past
the foot of high mountains. I was told that when the reed-grass,
standing from three to six feet above the water, and becoming very
dry from the sun, soon after the inundation has run off, although
the roots may be still under water, is ignited, a young and tender
grass springs forth, of which cattle are said to be very fond.

The white stream here, and indeed since yesterday, might be really
called the _Black River_. The latter colour arises partly from the
Thin, that heavy clayey morass with which the bed of the river is
covered, instead of floating sandy particles; and partly also from
the dark kind of moss, that we see among the reeds, continuing to
the bottom of the river, for the current (amounting here to less
than half a mile), is not able to keep its course clear. This long
marshy lake, of some two hours in breadth, discloses a new world
of plants, in various high grasses and bog-shrubs. The swarms
of little birds seem to find their nourishment in the ripening
seeds. I remarked two bitterns, having the greatest resemblance to
our water-hens—silver-grey, with a white wing: and also the black
Ibis. The small detached islands, linked together by marsh-plants,
floated only very slowly, although the contrary wind had quite
subsided.

_9th December._—The latitude, yesterday evening, was 9° 4′. The
river, or Kih N’jin-N’jin, would therefore disembogue itself
between 9° 12′ and 9° 4′. Our Gohr, as it pleased them to
call the arm of the Nile, which we navigated yesterday evening, and
which was scarcely fifty paces broad, has increased this morning to
100 and 150 paces in breadth, ever according to the caprice of the
reed-grass, _predominant_ here, and impudently intruding itself,
for the stream has scarcely anything to do with it. A very strong
dew hung on the grass in large pearly drops, very refreshing to the
eye at sunrise. The thermometer shewed 20° heat. The distant shore
of this marshy lake was denoted by isolated trees and a few small
villages. We were obliged to take again to the oars, as on yesterday
evening, and went N.W.

A dreadful pest has made its appearance in these lakes. “Baùda”
is the horrible name, and means nothing else than gnats, which,
when a calm sets in, make the people, and especially the half-naked
sailors, nearly mad. On the right side of the Nile we perceive no
human habitations. The nation of the Nuèhrs is said, thus far, to
dwell more towards the interior, on the left shore of the Sobàt,
and may therefore keep at a distance these frightful swarms of
gnats, that torment man and beast. On the left bank we saw, at
an hour’s distance beyond the reed-lake, eleven small villages;
yet the nation of the Jenjähs is said to be very numerous, and to
inhabit the shores of their N’jin-N’jin in populous villages,
situated on inaccessible mountains. At nine o’clock we sailed,
with a tolerably favourable east wind, W. by S., and made three
miles, whilst the rapidity of the current might have been about a
mile. Clouds had collected in the sky, and we feared rain, to which
the Egyptian inhabitants of the Nile are so sensitive.

At eleven o’clock the S.E. wind set in, when we went due N.W. The
river, which has, up to this place, a breadth of from four to five
hundred paces, widens again to about an hour’s breadth. A marshy
swamp, however, soon again intrudes: its pointed angle springs from
the right shore, so that the latter can be only an hour distant,
even to the trees over the green grass-land, whilst the left shore, on
the contrary, has retreated this hour and a half into an immeasurable
bay, the limits of which cannot be reached by the eye, even from the
mast. That we should not remark any villages in the vicinity of this
marshy land, is naturally to be expected.

The right shore becomes wooded, and we see, everywhere, rising pillars
of smoke, said to be signals, as the natives can discern our vessels
from thence. At 1 o’clock, the right shore, on the foreground of
which groups of ambaks rise, is about two hours’ distant. We noticed
numerous morass birds collected on this wide plain. This marsh-tree,
towards the left side of the shore, appears to delude us in the same
manner, since it assumes the form of groups of trees, belonging, at
other times, to firm ground. A new morass-plant, rising to a great
height, with large corollas, similar to a tuft of reeds, elevates,
here and there, its long bare stalks. Its external appearance
indicates it, even from afar, to be the _papyrus antiquorum_.

We go W.S.W., and a little before two o’clock W.N.W. One of the
vessels chose another road to the left of us, and is separated an
hour’s distance from us by the grass. About two o’clock, every
tree (being the sign of firm ground) on the left also vanishes, and we
see, therefore, nothing but _the sky_ and _grass sea_, surrounded or
intersected by the arms of the Nile. We sail N.W. with two miles and
a half rapidity of current, and probably in the larger central arm,
although it is scarcely four hundred paces broad. We conjecture that
the main stream is to the right side of the shore, from whence the
vessel before mentioned has returned, fearing to lose us altogether
from the horizon.

My servants had given some durra to the female slave of our first
lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, to prepare merissa from, of which drink the
rest of the crew partook. The Paradise-Stormer,—formerly, according
to his own confession, a staunch toper,—had no sooner learned
that his slave had set to make this liquor, than he ordered this
unfortunate creature, who was kneeling just before the murhàka, and
grinding the corn, so that the perspiration was pouring off in streams
from the bared upper part of her body, to remain quiet where she was:
whereupon she crossed her arms over her naked breast. At the very same
moment he drew forth the kurbàsh from under his angereb, and swinging
it backwards and forwards, brought it down with fearful violence upon
her back. As he did not attend to my call from the cabin, but struck
so furiously that her skin broke and blood poured down in streams, I
jumped out and pulled him backwards by his angereb, so that his legs
flew in the air. However, he sprang up again immediately, bounded
to the side of the ship, and shouted, with a menacing countenance,
“Effendi,” instead of calling me “Kawagi,” which is the usual
title for a Frank and a merchant. I had scarcely, however, returned
to my cabin, ere he seized his slave again to throw her overboard. I
immediately caught up my double-barrel, stood in the doorway, and
called out “Ana oedrup” (I’ll fire), whereupon he let her go,
and said, with a pallid countenance, that she was his property and
he could do as he liked with her. He at last suppressed his anger,
when I explained to him that his own head as well as all his Harim,
belonged to the Basha. Subsequently he ventured to complain of me to
the commandant, who, knowing his malignant and hypocritical character,
removed him to the little sandal, to the great delight of the whole
crew. On our return to Khartùm he was cringing enough to want to
kiss my hand and ask my pardon, (although he had become a captain
in the Basha’s guard), because the Basha distinguished me.

A few days previously I had had an opportunity of gaining
the affection and confidence of our black soldiers. One of them,
a Tokruri or pilgrim from Darfùr had, in a quarrel with an Arab,
drawn his knife and wounded him. He jumped overboard to drown himself,
for he could not swim, and was just on the point of perishing when
he drifted to our ship, where Feïzulla-Capitan no sooner perceived
him than he sprang down from behind the helm and saved him, with
the assistance of others. He was taken up and appeared nearly dead,
and on intelligence being conveyed from the other vessels that he
had murdered a Muslim, some of our people wished to throw him again
immediately into the water. This, however, being prevented, they
thought of making an attempt to resuscitate him, by standing him up
on his head. I had him laid horizontally upon his side, and began
to rub him with an old ferda belonging to one of my servants. For
the moment no one would assist me, as he was an “Abit,” until
I threatened the Captain that he should be made to pay the Basha
for the loss of his soldiers. After repeated rubbing, the tokruri
gave some signs of life, and they raised him half up, whilst his
head still hung down. One of the sailors, who as a faki, pretended
to be a sort of awakener of the dead, seized him from behind, under
the arms, lifted him up a little, and let him, when he was brought
into a sitting posture, fall thrice violently on his hinder end,
whilst he repeated passages from the Koràn, and shouted in his ears,
whereupon the tokruri answered with a similar prayer. Superstition
goes so far here, that it is asserted such a pilgrim may be completely
and thoroughly drowned, and yet retain the power of floating to any
shore he pleases, and stand there alive again.

On the right we noticed N.W. by W., at a great distance, a
considerable chain of mountains, to all appearance, over the
invisible left shore. According to Selim-Capitan’s declaration
this must be called Tickem. The crew even think that it is either
the Tekeli or the Tira, which, however, is impossible, as we have
long ago left them behind in the North. Both mountains are well
known by our Kawass Màrian, and belong indeed to the mountain chain
of Nuba. This mountain, however, is called, according to Màrian,
_Morre_, and its high rocks are inhabited by a valiant, pagan,
Negro race; they lie beyond the Nuba chain, and far isolated from
it. Màrian had more than once travelled through the country, and
had also been into these parts, when Sultan Fadl fled to them from
Kordofàn, on the invasion of the Turks. Half-past three o’clock,
W.N.W. Still in the grass-sea. We halted at sun-set, where the arm
of the Nile goes from E. to W. The far distant and scarcely visible
mountain lies now to the N. of us, and appears to be nearly twenty
hours’ distant; this agrees with Màrian’s statement. Neither
land nor tree to be seen, even from the mast; but back on the right
shore, large clouds of smoke, which we have seen in many places
throughout the day, and which I rather take to be signal-fires,
than kindled for the purpose of driving away the gnats that first
make their appearance towards evening.

_10th December._—A dead calm throughout the night. Gnats!!! No use
creeping under the bedclothes, where the heat threatens to stifle me,
compelled as I am, by their penetrating sting, to keep my clothes
on. Leave only a hole to breathe at; in they rush, on the lips, into
the nostrils and ears, and should one yawn, they squeeze themselves
into the throat, and tickle us to coughing, causing us to suffer real
torture, for with every respiration again a fresh swarm enters. They
find their way to the most sensitive parts, creeping in like ants at
every aperture. My bed was covered in the morning with thousands of
these little tormenting spirits—compared with which the Egyptian
plague is nothing—which I had crushed to death with the weight of
my body, by continually rolling about.

As I had forgotten to take with me from Khartùm a mosquito-net,
or gauze bed-curtains, for which I had no use there on account
of the heat, to keep off these tormentors, there was nothing
for it but submission. Neither had I thought of leather gloves,
unbearable in the hot climate here, but which would have been at
this moment of essential advantage, for I was not only obliged
to have a servant before me at supper-time, waving a large fan,
made of ostrich-feathers, under my nose, so that it was necessary
to watch the time for seizing and conveying the food to my mouth,
but I could not even smoke my pipe in peace, though keeping my hands
wrapt in my woollen Burnus, for the gnats not only stung through it,
but even crept up under it from the ground. The blacks and coloured
men were equally ill-treated by these hungry and impudent guests;
and all night long might be heard the word “Bauda,” furious
abuse against them, and flappings of ferdas to keep them off;
but in spite of this, the face and body were as if bestudded, and
swollen up with boils. The Baudas resemble our long-legged gnats,
although their proboscis, with which they bore through a triple fold
of strong linen, appears to me longer. Their head is blue; the back
dun-coloured, and their legs are covered with white specks, like small
pearls. Another kind has shorter and stronger legs, a thicker body,
of a brown-colour, with a red head and iris-hued posteriors.

The crew are quite wearied from sleepless nights, and rowing must be
given up if the calm continues, although we find ourselves in a canal
whose water propels us so little that we do not cast anchor. Here
I got a specimen of the gigantic rush (_papyrus antiquus_) before
mentioned. The stalk is prismatic, somewhat rounded, however, on
one side; it runs in a conical form, to the length of from ten to
twelve feet, and bears on the top a corolla like a tuft of reeds,
the ray-formed edges of which branch out, and are more than a span
long: the greatest thickness of the stem is one inch and a half, and
never less than half an inch thick, and under the green rind there is
a strong pith. Subsequently, however, I saw this papyrus, which our
Arabs were not acquainted with, from fifteen to twenty feet long, and
two inches thick, so that the longer reeds on the top shot forth from
their little clusters of flowers and seeds, five to six new spikes,
the length of a span. The _Ambak_ was _known_ to the old Egyptians;
there is no doubt, therefore, that it, as well as this rush,
was split, glued to one another, and used for a writing material,
because it afforded the advantage of a greater extent of surface.

We row again a little, and wait till ten o’clock for Hüssein
Aga’s clumsy kaiàss, although a slight N.E. wind has set in. We
then sail N.W. and make two miles and a half. At three o’clock we
go W.S.W. slowly into the great lake, wherein the Gazelle river (Bahr
el Gasáll) disembogues itself. This river is said to flow here from
the country of the Magrabis (Berbers), as some soldiers affirmed,
who had served under Mustapha Bey, and pretended to have pressed
forward to its shores. Touching this lake and the river, the name
of which we could not learn, for its borders are entirely covered
with reeds, and therefore cannot be inhabited, the declaration of
the soldiers was only a confirmation of what Mustapha Bey told me
in Khartùm. On account of the dead calm, we halt on the right reedy
shore of the stream, in the lake itself, beyond which we do not yet
distinguish land, any more than to the left. Over a yellowish tract,
there, which the water may have left, like an island, green grass
and the ascending smoke, announcing human life, shew themselves
again and denote a firm shore. The lake may be from eighteen to
twenty sea miles square.

In the evening, the smoke appeared like long-extended peculiar
fireworks, rising equally high; and there was no doubt that this
was ignited high grass, a sight which, from Sennaar to this place,
was no longer new to me. The Gazelle river glimmered far beyond,
the grasses impeding its mouth; and I distinguished plainly, from
the elevated poop, that it emptied itself into two arms, S.W. by
W. and S.W., forming a delta, obtuse at the top. My servant, who was
at the mast-head, confirmed me in the opinion of this more extensive
direction, by stretching out his arm to that region.

Dead fish, of the species called garmùt (_Heterobranchus, bidorsalis
Geoff._), real monsters in size, had already previously floated
towards us; they were said to have been harpooned by the inhabitants
of the shore, as very probably was the case. Our angling, however,
procured us few or no fish. It was not so much the north wind,
as the abundance of food brought by the inundation, that kept them
away from our bait.

We had already seen and caught several snakes, and twice I saw how
this reptile let itself be carried by the stream, coiling itself
up and holding its head above water. Here a small blackish snake
appeared, before which we threw a piece of wood, when it became
irritated, and drove repeatedly against our vessel, although we thrust
at it with poles. The first-named were mostly those I had already
seen and made a collection of in Taka—the Naja Haje (Coluber Haje
Hasslq.) Vipera Cerastes Daud, Python Subae, &c. The large snakes
were generally called Assala, and the small ones sometimes _Hannesh_
and _Debib_, and sometimes _Dabàhn_. It is only the viper that
has the name of Haigi among these people as its peculiar one. We
had seen here and there in these marshes serpents which might be
described as equal in bulk to a moderate tree. I had in Taka heard
a similar comparison from Sheikhs whose word could be relied on;
and also that the snakes were of such a size that they could easily
carry a man from his angereb, and swallow him very comfortably.

I remarked in the reeds many ant-hills, such as are seen in Taka;
they were eight to ten feet high, but whether inhabited or not I
cannot say. If they were so, their height might be explained by
the supposition that the insects sought to protect themselves in
their upper cells from the high water; that is, if the Nile did
not formerly make another bend here, so as not to overflow this
marsh-land. Besides, I had already had the opportunity of observing
these termites and their ingenious strongholds, whereby I convinced
myself that they are not very much afraid of the water; but, on the
contrary, they descend deep into the earth, to fetch up damp soil,
in order to give a smooth surface to the apparent labyrinth of their
cells, which, in the lower part of their habitations, are as thick as
one’s fist. These little whitish insects are also themselves full of
water, and burst as soon as they are touched. These ants are called
arda. They will perforate in one night, from the bottom to the top,
a trunk filled with clothes, if it is not placed upon a _stone_; for
they dread daylight, and are afraid to climb up stones on the earth.

Owing to the ants, we, towards evening, left the shore, and anchored
in the middle of the lake, which has a greater breadth in the
direction of the west, and where only a few ants shewed themselves,
and these, from the weight of the blood they had sucked in, were
not able to fly away from the reeds, and had stuck to the ship. We
remarked also a great number of glowworms among the reeds. Suliman
Kashef sent me the sandal, and I repaired with Feïzulla Capitan
to him.

Every one was overjoyed at escaping from the gnats. The sailors
swam here and there, but desisted from this vocation when crocodiles
appeared in our neighbourhood. There was mad shouting and singing, and
the Hippopotami appeared indignant at this noise, for they bellowed
in opposition on all sides. Suliman Kashef ordered his men to squat
down before the cabin, and sing. Several Arabic songs were chanted,
such as that of the Bedoaui (Bedouins), in which there is really a
pretty _refrain_. “La Volèt, el Juhm” (O youth the day). The
variation of “l’Eli, l’eli” (the night, the night), being
in trioles, is adapted to very soft modulations, and is introduced
as a melody, awakening the feelings in the same manner as the
modern Greek “Mana” (composed from the Turkish “Amàhn,”
and denoting a cry for mercy). It is not, however, executed in the
horrible and purely barbarian manner of the so-called Hellenes. They
had also satirical songs on Melek Kambal and Ahmed Basha: these,
however, they were not allowed to sing to the end. Suliman Kashef
related anecdotes of his former journeys, and did not seem to think
it impossible to overthrow and supplant his friend and countryman
Ahmed Basha. He had an old sailor as a jester or Dèli on board,
who was obliged to make jokes before the whole crew, and therefore
was called Abu Hashis, which means a man who drinks a decoction made
of hemp, having the same effect as opium, and who plays the buffoon.

Suliman Kashef was very much excited by the liquor. He fired in the
air, or at the hippopotami emerging from the water, and had his gun
continually loaded. It was really wonderful to see these animals,
bellowing on all sides, as if challenging him to the combat. Their
time of coition appeared, however, to have set in, and these fearful
trombone sounds might have pertained to the period of rutting. Towards
evening we had also seen numerous fish bustling about amid the reeds,
and heard them the whole night springing up, without thinking
of catching them, because they are considered unclean in the
coition-season by our Turks and Arabs. A number of green islands,
worn off by the floating water colossus from the marshy shore, being
driven by the wind, floated by us, and made us believe that we were
sailing. There was such a shouting of bad witticisms from the jesters
privileged here, that we could not help laughing. If our Abu Hashis
failed in his tropes, he was unanimously called “Abu! abu!” and
if the chief Abu Hashis of Suliman Kashef was not quiet at this,
and went on to make fun of the others with his stentorian voice, he
was asked what his Harim consisted of, at which question he always
became quiet, not wishing to joke on such a subject.

This vast water-basin had, some two hundred paces from the Nile,
which passes through on the east side, only one fathom and a half in
depth, the latter having three fathoms and a half, and a current of
a quarter of a mile. The latitude here was given by Selim Capitan as
9° 16′, and 28° 55′ east longitude from Paris. I hear that, in
the preceding year, they sailed round the mouth of the Gazelle river
for two days, being unable to enter it by reason of the reeds. I
did not grudge the trouble of asking a question twenty times; and
at last, I learned from our Iengäh that the head of the river is
called in his country Iak, although he refused to give me the name
of his abode or of the capital or city.

I could extract equally as little information from him about his
religion; yet these people must be, as Professor Ehrenberg, who
had a Iengäh as a servant, asserts, worshippers of the moon. The
moon is generally more or less an object of veneration in these hot
countries. The distinctive characteristics of the Iengäh nation
consist of a cross incision immediately over the eyebrows as far
as the temples, and over this, several vertical cuts close to one
another, an inch in length. The manner of tattooing amongst them
consists in slitting or cutting open the skin, the scars on which
protrude like basso-relievos. The dignity of Sultan and Sheikh is
hereditary. It almost seems to me that Marian is also unwilling to
give information concerning his Nuba, since I shewed him a map of
his country. The offer I made him to solicit the Basha to promote
him to the rank of an officer, and to send him back into his own
country to enlist troops, seemed very agreeable to him, and easy to
be accomplished, for his countrymen must and would willingly follow
him, because the Basha pays well. The Basha subsequently promoted
him to the rank of a lieutenant, but thought it somewhat hazardous
to raise a regiment of Nuba negroes, since he must have given the
supreme command to this man as their native Mak or King; although
he values the slaves from this country more than all the others, and
keeps many of them on his estate, whom he rewards with pretty wives.

_12th December._—Before sunrise this morning we left the Lake,
sailed with a faint N.E. wind a short tract S.W., and then W. by S.,
with two miles rapidity of current, into a canal, surrounded by a
border of reeds on both sides, and 100 to 150 paces broad. High reeds,
but more low ones, water couch-grass and narrow grass, the pale-green
aquatic plant, the lilac convolvulus, moss, water-thistles, plants
like nettles and hemp, formed on the right and left a soft green
mixture, upon which groups of the yellow-flowing ambak-tree rose,
and which itself was partly hung round with luxuriant creepers,
covered with large cup-like flowers, of a deep yellow colour. To
my sorrow, I see that my collection of plants, in spite of my great
care, has commenced the fermenting process, leaving but little hope
of preserving any of them, for these children of the marshes speedily
rot. I am especially grieved about the white lotus-flowers, which I
have not seen for some days; as well as for the Nymphæa cærulea,
which do not appear at all.

From W. by S.; soon again to S.W. by S.; and at nine o’clock,
S.W.—four miles. The ambaks rising from the immeasurable expanse of
reed-grass, at times deluded us into the belief that they were trees
of distant shores. High reeds are no longer to be seen, and even that
reed-grass appears to be lost here, but, instead of it, luxuriant
long grass, two to three feet high, sprouts out of the water.

Eleven o’clock, S.W. by S.—two miles. Towards S. we observe
isolated trees, and the tops of dwellings, in the country of the
Nuèhrs, where soon afterwards smoke ascends,—a sign that they see
our masts, although they are an hour distant from us. The channel is
again about 300 paces broad. There is everlasting strife between the
Egyptian sailors and the few Egyptian soldiers, who shew, even here,
the quarrelsome nature of the Fellàhs. Feïzulla Capitan is very
indifferent to it; a thorough slave to his crew and to his passions;
yet, at times he makes them tow, or orders the braggarts to be gagged
by a piece of wood fastened behind the ear, which they are obliged
to take in their mouths; but this is done, however, more to please
himself, and to make the crew laugh, than to acquire respect by good
sound reprimands. Where a laudable zeal is displayed on no side,
this apathy appears to me, generally, to promise us very little
honour in the conclusion of our expedition; even Arnaud testifies
but little pleasure at the prospect of a further advance. Selim
Capitan is afraid of the natives, and Suliman Kashef is the only
one from whose ambition and courage I have anything to expect. The
Frenchmen continue to have their windows covered, that, forsooth,
they may not see the melancholy, monotonous country. Mutually cool
towards one another, they are continually opening collections of
anecdotes, and comic publications, to fill up the gaps in their
insipid conversation. Arnaud seems to look upon Selim Capitan as
the abler man, for he consults him, and watches the chronometer,
whilst the latter handles the instruments.

At noon, W. by W., and at one o’clock S. Towards the east,
we see the vessels that have remained behind, in the extensive
sea of reeds, and we likewise, for the first time, rightly remark
the winding of this passage. The gigantic rush shews itself here
and there like little pine-forests; also isolated parcels of high
reeds over the old dry low reeds, which spring forth again fresh
from their stalks. The spikes of the grass are here cropped, and
before us there rises an enormous swarm of locusts, who move up the
river. These may be, for the moment, welcome food to the fish mostly
seen here, which are wide-mouthed, but otherwise similar to an eel
(_Clarias anguillaris_). All those that we caught, had locusts in
their belly. The wind, as is usual about noon, has almost entirely
slackened; the crew row, keeping time with songs to their oars,
S.W. by S. About three o’clock, we halt at the right shore of the
reeds, which are dry here, although on the right they are of a soft
green. Now I see that we must not be deceived by the yellow tracts,
with the belief that firm ground exists there, for the grasses here,
standing in the water, are also dry.

Although the thermometer, as yesterday, is only 28°, yet it feels,
when the dead calm sets in, as close and confined as in Khartùm,
with a heat of 42°, to which, perhaps, the exhalations from the
marshes may mostly contribute. An unusual perspiration has not only
made its appearance upon me, but even the crew, especially the rowers,
are dripping, as if with water. About nine o’clock in the evening,
we cast anchor in a depth of two fathoms, and half a mile current.

I had resigned to Feïzulla Capitan the pleasure of preparing the
bill of fare for us, and therefore there was so much cooked (“Alla
Kerim”), that not only he, but half the crew, were feasted. The Kurd
had previously withdrawn himself from this community; and I found
it advisable, as I had been robbed by his people into the bargain,
to be economical with my provisions, in order that they might last to
the end of the voyage, giving my servant, Sate Mahommed, from Mahass,
the most necessary directions for cooking.

_13th December._—If a regular visitation of gnats took place three
days ago, it was nothing to be compared with that of yesterday
evening. Even this morning, when the sun had risen, we had no
rest; it was impossible for me to write even if my head had been
less confused, after such a painful night. This was the _smaller_
species, not having legs, with spots like pearls. Neither fans,
nor entire masses of tobacco, which we kindled on an iron platter,
keep these little beasts away from us.

Millions of glowworms fluttered around in the rushes and ambaks,
accompanied by the shrill cry of locusts. The croaking, however, of
frogs was wanting, for they do not appear to be forthcoming here. A
little before sunrise, we again rowed towards the west; and the
whole crew, though exhausted, really used their utmost endeavours
to get away from this region. We advanced, however, but slowly, for
the current had become a little stronger. About eight o’clock,
to our great delight, a strong N.E. wind set in, and we made four
miles. The horizon was covered, towards the right shore, from E. to
S., with tokuls, and there was a considerable village at the point
where the river approaches from E. and E.S.E. Unfortunately we are
obliged to wait for the vessels left behind; and this is so much the
more to be regretted because the strong north winds seem altogether to
be lost here. We are only separated from this shore by a few reeds,
but prevented from landing, as the water reaches far above a man’s
head. Low bushes of mimosas stand there upon dry ground, scarcely
elevated above the surface of the Nile, but rising, however somewhat
towards a village in which a tokul is distinguished, from its unusual
size. The little sandal has, nevertheless, discovered a narrow road,
made by the natives, or by the large aquatic animals to the land, and
brings off with it twenty-five sheep, which it has procured on shore.

The inhabitants of this village were harshly used by the former
expedition. At that time they brought four oxen as a present, and
gave a sheep to Thibaut, who, because it was somewhat swollen, took
it to be poisoned. This circumstance was sufficient cause to incite
the crew to go ashore, to surround the village on all sides, and to
shoot down, in a shameful manner, the Sheikh, and several others who
had fled with him into the neighbouring marshes. Thibaut made a very
pretty booty here, consisting, amongst other things, of a square
quiver, somewhat curved at the top, altogether of antique form;
besides large felt caps, very similar to the ancient Egyptian caps
of the priests, high and obtuse in front; bread collars for bulls,
set round with iron spindle-shaped ornaments, which were hung up in
the great tokul, and may have been hung therefore round their Apis,
as signs of adoration or affection, only on certain festive occasions.

In the neighbourhood, we saw far and wide, towards the left side of
the village, the smoke assume a magnificent form. We see from the
deck flames moving towards us, the wind being favourable, in long
battle array, and steam and black ashes spread near us, apparently
arising from the dry grass. Thousands of birds driven thence swarm
in the air around the vessels. A number of turtle-doves remain quite
innocently in our neighbourhood, perched on the ambak-bushes. It
may indeed be called fortunate that the wood there was low and
generally thin, for, had it been otherwise, this conflagration,
probably caused by the frightened inhabitants, might easily have set
the sails on fire. The fatalism, however, of the Turks causes us to
squat in the very same place till about sunset, in order to fill our
ships again with gnats, although we see the vessels, left behind,
coming at a distance. The river winds here from E.S.E. to S.S.W. At
last they apply themselves to their oars, but we gain very little,
for the current amounts to more than one mile, and the wind, which
had set in over night, holds scarcely on for a moment.

_14th December._—After a restless night, we did not put ourselves
in motion this morning till an hour after sunrise. I see that we
have scarcely advanced this night two miles, calculating from the
trees standing towards N.E., behind us, which I remarked yesterday
at the village of the Nuèhrs, who, indeed, had fled from us behind
the burning wood. We sail slowly to the west, and we should scarcely
distinguish the right shore, if some tokul-tops were not seen peeping
out at a distance of an hour and a half. From want of wind we halt for
a time, and sail then with the shifting N.E. wind, further westward,
till we go, at ten o’clock, S.W., and make two miles. At eleven
o’clock the wind becomes so strong that we fly by, as it were,
the reeds close at hand, and for the first time make six miles. We
went here W.S.W.

The right shore was marked out by three or four large trees standing
at equal distance from each other, like ancient monuments of the
victory gained here with difficulty over the moist element. Twelve
o’clock, N.W. by N., four miles: again sky, water, and reeds; in
the latter, solitary bunches of ambaks and high reeds. Soon we go
gradually S.W. by S., and the stream, although it is only some 200 or
250 paces broad, appears not to have, near this part, any considerable
arms, as none such are visible from the mast-head. From this reason
the greater current is explained. The white river traverses these
reed-lakes in meandering windings, and river buffaloes can break any
other road for themselves in this shoreless expanse. The thermometer
shews at three o’clock 28°, at noon 25°, and this morning at
sunrise 20° Reaumur. It is now nearly a dead calm, and we are
scarcely able to move from N.W. to S.W.

My servant Fadl informs me from the mast, that he sees land, indeed,
behind us; but at the side, and before us, nothing but gesch (reeds or
grass). The great mass of water of the white stream so suddenly making
its appearance, is explained partly from this long lake (the breadth
of which cannot be determined from the ship without an air-balloon),
forming a great basin. This basin (after the reed or marsh-ground of
its flat edge being scarcely superficially dried, is in some degree
saturated) collects immediately the water streaming from above,
below, and the sides, until, becoming a mass, it surmounts its natural
flood-gates, as these machadas may be called, like a breach of a dike.

At four o’clock the cry is “El hauer galàss” (the wind has
ceased), and we halt on the right shore of the reeds, where another
dreadful night of gnats awaits us. Where it has been possible,
and I have thought of it at the moment, I have planted date-stones,
or thrown them, when passing by, on the inundated shores; for this
beneficial tree never presents itself, and may, indeed, never thrive
here again.

_15th December._—We remained yesterday evening actually till
after sunset in the reeds, and our vessel was full of musquitos. I
mentioned previously these insects as being of two distinct species,
and not as male and female. I am confirmed in my former opinion; for
in the nights of the 12th and 13th December the smaller kind was so
prevalent, that I could only find, after much searching, some bodies
of the pearled long-legs on my bed. We therefore suffered again from
the usual plague from evening to this morning at eight o’clock,
although we had left the reeds. The river had here three fathoms and
a quarter in depth, and a rapidity of about one mile and a quarter. We
waited this morning for the kaiass, left behind as usual, when it was
rowed, owing to its large, clumsy oars; and being a broad-built ship
of burden, it had cost us already a pretty time during our voyage. It
was not till half-past eight o’clock that a slight east wind set in,
and we move slowly on towards S.W., again to W.S.W. after a quarter
of an hour, and at nine o’clock to the S., and make two miles.

We remark, on the whole, few land-birds; however, we have seen various
species of storks, among which was one of a moderate size, unknown
to our crew, with a dark-red back shield. We notice pelicans here
and there, and I think what a feast these catchers of fish must have
when the Nile, in the dry season, partly deserts the reeds wherein we
have observed scarcely any fish but of one species, with flat heads,
striped. I had seen already here a dark-brown species of swallow,
about twice the size of our house-swallow, and remarked their very
short legs, which prevent them from soaring again in the air when they
have fallen down in short grass, similar to what I saw in Taka. At
ten o’clock we make three miles, and at eleven o’clock four miles,
for the east wind was blowing fresh, and we sail towards S.S.E.

The river has resumed its former breadth of some three hundred paces,
and the vessels run against one another, according to the dear old
custom, always breaking something or getting stuck together. Our
captain, nevertheless, does not fall into a passion: the vessel
may crack and shake for what he cares; for his sewing-needle
appears to him of more importance, and he handles it with an air of
determination, as if all his work must be done within the very next
hour. Every one wishes to avail himself of the wind; consequently
we rush by on reeds, or right into them, and out then pours a myriad
of gnats like clouds.

We ought to have the log continually in our hands, with these eternal
windings of the river, as the vessel more or less sails according
to the ever varying stream, and with the very same winds. Even the
most detailed chart can afford but little to be relied upon in such
a circular dance of the stream, although the engineer may confine
himself to assume as the direction of the course of the river, not
the real shores, but the ephemeral borders of reeds. At noon E.S.E.,
when the wind, passing over into N.E., is somewhat contrary, if
the stream does not soon make again another bend. We lend a helping
hand with oars to the sails, and the river winds again on the right
towards south. Low reeds with tufts of high reeds; little woods of
these large crown or paper rushes, and tracts of ambaks.

As the river appeared for a time to hold on its course to the south,
being exceedingly weary after these sleepless nights, and not able
longer to keep my eyes open, I sank back as it were involuntarily
upon my bed, but told my men, however, to wake me without mercy,
when the river took another direction. We remained till Asser (three
o’clock in the afternoon), in a southern direction, when, covered
with perspiration, I awoke of myself, for the cooling N.E. wind
had subsided, as usual, after mid-day, and was entirely stagnant. I
had dreamt of being very comfortably on my travels in Germany with
my brother; and this dream had the effect of consoling me in this
miserable position, and of making me look forward with joy to the
future. During my sleep they had seen a swimming-bird, said to be as
large as a young camel, with a straight beak like a pelican, but no
crop under it: they had not shot it, lest they should awake me, and
because they thought that this bird, unknown to them, would appear
again. Whoever knows the manner of comparing things in this country,
will know also how to appreciate the size of this bird.

We lie on the reeds, wait for the ships tarrying behind, and as usual
delay to take to the middle of the river, till all the holds of the
vessel are full of gnats. At the distance of about an hour we see
to the right shore the margin of firm land with tokul-tops, whilst
the grass-sea extends still to the other side, upon which, however,
in the far distance clouds of smoke ascend. The country here may,
on the whole, lie lower, whereby the objects upon it remain under
the horizon.

_16th December._—The sun ascends, and we sail slowly towards it
with a faint N.E. wind. I drew two thin cowls, which I had had made
in Taka as a protection against the sun, over my face, to be free at
least from gnats at the sides, leaving just room enough in the front
for my eyes and pipe. These insects torment us up to nine o’clock,
morning: at night they are always singing and buzzing, and they have
even contrived, this evening, to pierce through to the fleshy part
of my face. The skin on the parts stung by them, principally the
hands and feet, begins to itch so that one could scratch it to pieces.

We soon go S.E., and endless swarms of swimming birds come to meet
us, and appear to fly down with the river. The pelicans also follow
the very same direction, but rest every moment upon the water. It
appears that these birds are fonder of live fish, and leave the dead
ones to birds of prey, and on that account seek for the inundated
parts of the lower course of the stream. In a very short time we go
S.W., but immediately again, at eight o’clock, S.E. The wind passes
over to the E. in order to gain strength. Like yesterday afternoon,
the right shore, from N.E. to S.E., is now covered with tokul-tops,
partly collected together as villages, partly lying singly on the line
of the horizon, upon which also some dhellèb-palms may be remarked.

To follow the shore of the river, and to define the limits of the
bed of the White Stream, over which it here and there rolls, the
principal thing would be to follow the line of the villages and
old trees, for these determine the peculiar marks of high water,
elevated by the river itself. From this high water we might,
perhaps, be able to ascertain the mean breadth of the river. But
such a difficult journey by land will be certainly, for a long time,
an intricate problem. The Turks themselves have also here, without
perhaps wishing it, failed in the first impression; so that from
“children of heaven” they have become “white devils,” in
the eyes of the people. Therefore we see on every side pillars of
smoke ascending, which are to be considered as signals of approaching
danger, according to the statement of our heroes; whilst the kindled
reed-straw, or the high grass of the savannah prairies, spreads
its smoke _horizontally_. Innumerable birds are perched round,
in the ambaks; among them a number of turtle-doves are cooing very
peaceably, reminding me more of the great Campo in Constantinople
than of the lower shores of the Nile.

Ten o’clock. Fadl told me, from the mast, that firm land was
approaching the shore from both sides. It was not long before we
perceived, whilst making three miles’ course, some tokuls also on
the left shore, part of them appearing to be of peculiar size. We see
also, in the middle of the reeds, on small eminences, two such huts,
said to serve fishermen for temporary abodes. Four men and a woman
make signs, or greet us, by raising up their arms high in the air;
but even with the best will, we are not able to force our way to them,
although they may have something we could pillage. Nevertheless,
the right shore retreats again, and we distinguish only the palms
of the last-mentioned village.

We continue S.S.E., and as the right shore goes back towards S.E.,
the left shore approaches nearer with S.W. by S. The stream is
now more than 400 paces broad; its water is still very dark,
and the broad reeds, with the other aquatic plants, present such
a verdant appearance, that it is quite refreshing; and they shoot
forth with such vigour, that we imagine we see them growing. It is
eleven o’clock. The N.E. wind has again slackened. Our direction
is S.E. The water is stagnant in the reeds, not only shut out by
them from the current, but also kept back from the stream, which,
notwithstanding the narrowness of its bed, has only one mile in
rapidity. An influx of this stagnant water into the narrow river-bed
can only, therefore, take place according to the proportion in which
the stream gradually runs off, and is absorbed into this, its bed.

The Frenchmen pretend, when they return from the mast, to adjust the
genuine river-bed, but they will not believe that the water has fallen
so that one cannot see over the reeds and the marsh-trees. The company
was to have dined with us, but Feïzulla Capitan, who had undertaken
to invite the others, had gone first with the sandal to Suliman
Kashef, and had there caroused to such excess that he even forgot to
invite Suliman himself. Yet, this morning, he thought that he had not
only invited him, but also Selim Capitan and the Frenchmen. We made,
therefore, the necessary provision for this repast, and waited for
the vessels preceding us to bring up; until I heard at last from
Selim Capitan as he passed us, that Feïzulla had not been to him.

The latitude yesterday was 8° 36′ 30″, and to-day, 8° 36′. We
remained generally, with small declinations, in the south-easterly
direction. The hygrometer indicated at three o’clock 40′, and
after five o’clock 50′, of atmospheric moisture, whilst in the
night it had 70′ to 80′. The dew constantly shews itself first
towards morning, and the carpet lying upon the deck is as wet as if
it had been dipped in water. The cheerful verdure is explained from
this cause, yet it will be extremely monotonous if the same vegetation
continues for any distance. We supped together in our vessel, and the
Russian renegade, Captain Selim Aga, shewed his usual good scent,
and likewise appeared. We were merry, and had two Abu Hashis to
contend in witticisms; during which they wished each other to be
troubled with all the gnats, and kept up a continual scoffing.




                             CHAPTER VII.

QUESTION OF THE NAVIGATION OF THE NILE. — KING OF THE SNAKES. —
OFFERINGS TO HIM BY THE ARABS. — KURDISTAN. — MÀRIAN’S
AUTHORITY OVER THE NEGROES. — THE TAILOR CAPTAIN AGAIN. —
DHELLÈB-PALMS. — WANTON DESTRUCTION BY THE CREW. — ELEPHANTS:
WHITE BIRDS ON THEIR BACKS. — POISON-TREES. — THE NATION OF
THE KÈKS: CUSTOMS AND DESCRIPTION OF THEM. — FLESH OF CAMELS AND
GIRAFFES. — MERISSA PREPARED FROM ABRÈ. — THIBAUT DISCOVERED
TO BE AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. — RECOLLECTIONS OF GREECE. — WILD
CUCUMBERS. — FEIZULLA CAPITAN’S DRINKING PROPENSITIES.


17th December.—Immediately after sunrise we sailed S.S.E.; at eight
o’clock, S.S.W., and at nine o’clock, S.W. by S. The stream we
navigate is tolerably broad, and appears, so far as we can see over
the reedy-sea, to be the only one. On the right shore we have still
the dhellèb-palms of yesterday in sight; the land retreats towards
S.E., whilst the left shore comes nearer, and lets us see individual
tokuls and villages. Some blacks stand on the shore, which approaches
us at nine o’clock within gun-shot. They greet us and make signs,
but we cannot go to them on account of the reeds, willingly as we
would make their acquaintance, in order to provide ourselves again
with meat. Ten o’clock. The left shore appears to go S.W. with the
river, calculating from some trees and dhellèb-palms. The east wind
is tolerably strong; we make three miles. A large pelican was shot,
and there were found in the pouch under its bill twenty-four fresh
fish, the size of moderate herrings. This burden had impeded its
flight from our vessels, and prevented it from swallowing its prey,
on the death-shot, as is usual with these birds.

If we consider this enigmatical stream territory, we ask ourselves
whether the white river, of and _by itself_, with such a weight of
water, can maintain these lagoons under an African sun? Were the Nile
_one_ stream, it must flow off faster; for the rains have already
ceased here, and previously, indeed, under the Equator itself. How
could the Nile, which still shews its peculiar disposable mass of
water, in its main-stream, supply, quite _alone_, that enormous mass
of water, and even to the present time maintain under water these
immense reedy lakes, unless other tributary streams, the mouths of
which stagnate, owing to the level nature of the ground, and the
counter-pressure of the main-stream, supplied a nourishment great
beyond belief, to this, with which it equally rises and falls? For the
whole mass of water _in complexu_ must suffer an incredible diminution
during such a long tract in its slow ebbing, under a burning sun,
or this Bahr-el-Abiad must have real giant-springs in its source.

A steam-boat here might surmount many difficulties, and give us the
necessary corrections for a map, which cannot be effected by sailing
with a constant wind, owing to the often diametrically opposite
windings, and the endless difficult calculations. In order to bring
such a steam-vessel safe over the upper cataracts of Wadi Halfa,
or even of Es-Suan, it must be constructed in such a manner that the
paddle-wheels could be entirely taken out, so that it might be towed
over by ropes, or it must be built in Khartùm, which, indeed, might
be difficult from want of good timber, as the sunt-tree, though very
strong, affords but brittle wood. The greatest difficulty would be
the establishment and protection of coal-magazines; and with regard
to applying charcoal to this purpose, although the White Stream
in its lower course has forests enough, yet not so on its middle
and upper part: and even if the requisite wood should be found,
much time must be lost in felling and preparing it for charcoal. A
considerable number of men also would be always necessary for the
protection of these establishments, and their consumption of victuals
would be so great, that their provisions would leave no room for
the charcoal, as the vessels could not be _heavier_ laden. There is
another very great consideration,—these labyrinths go through the
marshy regions. If only a few men, therefore, should be embarked,
and other vessels employed to take up coals, their crews must consist
entirely of men selected for the purpose, and known to one another,
in order that they might communicate with the inhabitants of the
shore, and be able to aim at something more than simply ascertaining
the course of the river. Europeans only are fit for this, as they
have ideas of humanity, and subjection to the will of One.

At last we have determined to take the clumsy kaiàss in tow,
at the droll request of Hässeïn Aga. Our vessel began with it,
in order to form a line with the other larger Dahabiës. At eleven
o’clock we discerned, upon a marsh island, near the left shore,
some thirty talle-trees; this genus we had missed for some time. Here
we turn S.S.E., and with a small bend E.S.E., and then E. by S. We
were driven by the east wind close to the right bank of the reeds
before we had reefed the sails. The only remaining hope that the river
may follow its winding course, and bring us, with the assistance of
rowing a short way, into a more favourable direction.

Hüsseïn Aga, who is on board our vessel, with another Kurd of
Suliman-kashefs, confirms what we had already heard from the Kurd
Abdul-Elliàb, and which all these people firmly believe,—namely,
that derwishes know how to prepare a liquor, which, if but once
drunk of, is a preventive thenceforward of the bite of a snake, or
of rendering it harmless. Such a derwish is said to be found even
in Khartùm. But some few words, which they assert to be a secret,
are requisite to exorcise or find out where snakes are. I then heard
that the King of the Snakes is called Shah Maràn. They cannot say,
however, where this Sultan lived or died before he assumed the form
of a snake, nor do they know his fixed residence, for he sometimes
appears in one place, sometimes in another, like the two tutelar
deities by water and land, Abu Seïd and Abd-el-Kader. The Arabs
are also said to adjure this Snake King in their exorcisms. Even the
long sailor, Salem, whom I had patronised on account of his German
countenance, and to whom I had given some piasters for the snakes he
brought me, one of which he even seized with naked hands before my
eyes, affirmed by his silence that he would not trust me, even under
the greatest promises of secrecy, with this mystery, inherited from
his father. The country of this Shah Maràn is in Turkish Kurdistàn,
not very far from Adana, where there are two villages exempted from
paying tribute on condition of supplying the snakes there with milk.

Abd-Elliab had himself offered milk to the snakes in that region,
and swore that he had seen with his own eyes this King, unless it
was a Wokil or deputy, of whom Maràn has many. Abd-Elliab poured
his milk into one of the basins there formed by nature, whereupon,
in the first place, a large snake, with long hair on its head,
rolled out from the hole in the rock, and drank of it. This great
chief then retired, without, however, speaking a word to him, as it
had done to others; because, at that time, he had not abjured strong
drinks. Afterwards other snakes crawled out from all the clefts of
rocks, and took the remains of the milk, as being subjects of the
former one. The two other Kurds (sing. _Kurd_ plur. _Krat_), who
were not friends with this Koran-hero, vouched for the truth of their
countryman’s statement, and gave it as their opinion that the great
Maràn only shewed himself to a saint, or a Sultan; and that he had
a human face, for that otherwise he could not speak and give advice.

They related, likewise, more credible histories of their country;
how their capital city, Nausùd, stands upon a high, impregnable
rock, where the Sultan Haidar resides, and has six Bashas under him;
that all the warriors wear armour, and are mounted, and that the
mountaineers themselves have _never_ been subdued. Then they spoke
of their manner of hunting, and their hawking for hares and gazelles,
and said that a good falcon costs 2000 piastres. They suffer no Jews
to reside in their state, and assert that the latter kill and drink
the blood of prisoners, when they happen to be Krat (Kurds).

At half-past four Selim Capitan returned to us, because he thought
some accident must have happened; the ships which had preceded
having waited for us three hours. Feizulla Capitan, with the same
zeal that he read, a short time ago, the Koràn, so that he neither
heard nor saw, now sits at his tailoring, and lets the crew do
what they like. They therefore never think of exerting themselves
and seizing the oar, but draw the vessel forward on the reeds,
slinging a rope round it to tow it. We had scarcely made one mile,
when the river wound towards the right side from E. by S. to S.S.E.,
and we saw beyond the reeds, projecting in a sharp angle, the other
vessels with their glittering sails.

That the reeds have sufficient strength to encroach in this manner
on the path of the river, or that a counterpressure from the left
shore, although no tributary stream is visible in the neighbourhood
takes place, indicates the weakness of the current. So far it
is established, that if a straighter bed here could be assigned
to the river, by removing the reeds, it would have a fall, and,
by that means, a more rapid flow. These marsh lakes might be made
dry at certain seasons of the year, and an immeasurable, fertile,
low country would be gained, such, perhaps, as exists not elsewhere
in the world. And this cutting through of the reeds does not lie
beyond the reach of possibility, if once ideas of cultivation of
land spread even here. Some miserable tokuls, on small elevated
spots, peep out from the reeds; their vicinity to snakes, gnats,
and other vermin, is not to be envied. We follow the course of the
river, at four o’clock, towards S.S.W., and set three more oars on,
without Feïzulla Capitan’s orders.

Again there is contention among the blacks, who are of different
tribes. Prince Mariàn, the serjeant, lashes away in a very vigorous
manner between them, with his nabùt, and by his simple look calms the
wild, inflamed passions of these Negroes, which neither the Captain,
nor Abd-Elliab (if even the latter had been still on board), could
have succeeded in doing. They have all a peculiar _veneration_ for
this man, whom they call their _Mak_, and he had needs only express
a wish, and it would go hard with us whites.

We soon went S.S.W., and at sun-set, E.S.E. The rowers then rest
on their laurels, for Feïzulla must wind up his thread, and he
never once looks up to see whether the other vessels are going
a-head. At last I myself take to the oars, as well as Mariàn,
in order to set the people a good example. The tailor-captain sat
up on the deck near the lantern, and had himself fanned, for the
gnats will not respect his artistical fingers. He was never vexed
at bringing down Selim Capitan’s reproaches, for his tarrying
behind, but only annoyed at being obliged, though for a short time,
to leave his sewing implements, to which he faithfully stuck, with
an incredible indolence and indifference to every thing else. The
people rested every moment, and we did not reach the vessels waiting
for us, where the river goes S.E., till nine o’clock.

_18th December._—Half an hour before sunrise we followed our
course towards S.E., and the east wind blew so faintly that it
scarcely swelled the sails, and we moved but with difficulty from
the spot. My mast-watcher, Fadl, says that a river, from the trees of
the left shore, which I see, upon the deck, behind us, towards N.W.,
enters into the land in a basin far above an hour; that this land
is covered with trees, and again approaches the river towards the
south, and that many tops of tokuls are visible upon the right
tree-less shore, away beyond the reeds and grass, at a distance of two
hours. We are therefore again in a lake, wherein this large village,
according to his account, lies upon a neck of land which corresponds
with the bay of the left bank.

After an hour and a half, we take to our oars, and double, for
the first time, a corner towards E., and immediately afterwards to
E. by N. The damp yesterday evening was so great that it penetrated
our clothes. In the reeds there was continual croaking, chirping,
waddling, and springing up of the spawning-fish, such as we had
not before heard. Birds also flew over us, uttering a shrill and
whistling sound, said to announce a storm. We torment ourselves till
eleven o’clock by slowly moving along the right shore of the reeds;
and in order to get the crew into some activity, I have forced the
tailor out of his shop, for the east wind has become stronger, and
the river makes a bend before us to the south, as we perceived by the
masts of the ships waiting for us. We sail, therefore, towards the
south, to the other vessels, which have already got a considerable
start of us. We quit this southern direction at the end of an hour,
go for half an hour towards S.E., and then more eastward and E. by
S., where again we are obliged to take to our oars. The group of
the thirteen dhellèb-palms, which previously stood south of us,
retreats to the left shore. We saw here four fishing-huts in the
reeds, near which some blacks were occupied in fishing. At noon S.E.,
and at two o’clock towards E., sailing.

One can scarcely form an idea of the continual and extraordinary
windings of the river. Half an hour ago we saw, on the right,
the Muscovite’s vessel, and on the left the other vessels a-head
_on a line_ with us, separated, however, by the high grass, from
which their masts and sails joyfully peeped forth. I could scarcely
persuade myself that we had proceeded from the one place, and shall
steer to the other. There is something cheerful and tranquilizing
in this life-like picture of ships seeking and finding each other
again in the immeasurable grass-sea, which gives us a feeling of
security. It must be a sight to the people of this region that they
cannot comprehend, owing to the distance.

Those sixteen dhellèb-palms have at last approached to within
gun-shot. I had counted them four times, and every time found another,
so exactly does one trunk cover the other. I do not call them
_handsome_ trees, because they stand there in the green wilderness;
no, I find them really beautiful, for there is a peculiar charm in
them. They rise like double gigantic flowers upon slender stalks,
gently protruding in the middle, and not like those defoliated
date-palms, which stand meagerly, like large cabbage-stalks. It
is impossible that the latter should delight my poor heart, full
of the remembrance of shady trees,—the oaks and beech-trees of
Germany; the planes near Parnassus; the cypress on the Bosphorus,
and the chestnuts on the Asiatic Olympus. About three o’clock we
landed on the left shore, and found it dry, to our astonishment, but
still green, and covered with high grasses. Near the palms were four
ant-hills, on the tops of which we found the wet blue clay worked
up. Some miserable tokuls also stood around, but they were deserted
by the inhabitants. To my sorrow, I see again a sürtuk destroyed,
for the sake of some splinters of wood, merely to keep up a fire the
whole night for amusement, on board the sandal,—not to drive away
the gnats, for they let the fire burn in a clear flame. Wherever they
have the opportunity of displaying their petulance, our blacks also
are ever ready. They are not ever ashamed to have always in their
mouths the word “Abit,” although they themselves are slaves,
and will be so while they live, though clad in the soldier’s smock
frock, for the Turkish soldiery have not yet qualified themselves
for an honourable condition.

It shews a want of order, nautical policy, and tact, on the part of
the commanders, to allow the poor inhabitants of the left shore to
be injured. They are said for some days past to belong to the nation
of the Nuèhrs. Suliman Kashef has made over some of his own crew
to us, to assist in rowing our vessel; but Feïzulla plays tauola
(tavola), or backgammon, with a Turk, and thinks, when he does not
hear the stroke of the oar, that we are sailing. I had collected
some pretty plants near those villages, and found wild cucumbers,
without prickles, as well as a kind of aloe, seeming here to thrive
on marshy soil. About five o’clock we had to be towed a short
distance; then we took a little to our oars, and at sun-set joined
the other ships in the east. The river has a depth of three fathoms
and about three-quarters of a mile rapidity in the intersection. I
appeal to Suliman Kashef to prevent the taking away and hewing up of
sürtuks. He himself confesses that the Icthyophagi dwelling here in
the reeds, being entirely cut off from the rest of the world, would be
lost, as it were, without their fishing-boats, since they can neither
swim nor wade through the marshes; he promises therefore to forbid it.

_19th December._—We had cast anchor in the middle of the stream,
and the right shore was raised above the grass, to the distance of
a quarter of an hour; it was quite bare, notwithstanding its row of
palm-trees. It is a dead calm, and we do not put ourselves in motion
till half-past seven o’clock, assisting the slackened sails by
rowing. We bend immediately to the W., and I see before me, to my
astonishment, the sixteen palms again standing and the row of palms
just mentioned behind us, as well as the vessels preceding us on the
left towards the E. Near the palms of the right shore, we remarked
not a family, but a small army of elephants, moving slowly here and
there under the trees, apparently for the purpose of tasting the
dhellèb-fruit. This is not yet grown to its full size, nor ripe;
but perhaps they will shake it down by the weight of their body,
as I have seen them in Taka, do with the doum-palms. Two elephants
were previously shewn me in the country, where we saw the giraffes
and ostriches, appearing in the far distance like hills, until they
began to move.

At half-past eight o’clock, S.E. by E., north-east wind, but
faint, and only one mile and a half course. In the space of half an
hour, we shall be advancing to the south, where the other ships are
already. The serpentine winding of the Nile would have a beautiful
appearance from an air-balloon, striving, as it does, to break a
road through the reeds in all directions.

The steersman would often be puzzled what direction to take if we did
not push against the stream, which requires labour and exertion. If
it were otherwise, they would let themselves drift with “Allah
Kerim,” and most certainly would fall every moment with the high
water into unknown paths among the reeds, and pass several islands
by force, or remain sticking therein.

At half-past nine o’clock we proceed westwards, in order to
go again southwards after a quarter of an hour, as we see by
the vessels sailing before us. At eleven o’clock to S.W. two
miles and a quarter, and at twelve o’clock only one mile and a
quarter. At one o’clock the wind has almost entirely died away,
when we again turn towards the south. The sixteen palms are still
visible behind us, and we must have advanced in little curves,
as we see by the vessels behind us, during my short sleep, caused
by the nightly epileptic fits of Feïzulla Capitan. Wonderful to
relate, we have sailed by them, the captain having roused himself,
for a short time, from his apathy. Bushes of high reeds, and little
forests of ambaks in Nile grass; before us a long group of palms,
which, as Fadl at the mast-head thinks, belongs to the right shore.

From south we make a small bend towards east, and turn a little
corner of the left shore of reeds to S.W., where we again derive
some advantage from the nearly exhausted wind. I hear from the mast
that the left shore winds back to south, and that the right again
approaches the river in a semicircle.

For some days past the stream has appeared whitish or clouded to
the superficial observer. Viewing it however, through the glass,
we find it quite clear. It is also well tasted, which was not the
case throughout the marshy lakes. If we find the river, having here
a breadth of five hundred paces, and a depth of from three to four
fathoms, we continue to ask the question, from whence does this
enormous mass of water come?

We have already passed the limits wherein the Mountains of the Moon
have been placed. It would almost seem the river is accumulated in
a cauldron-shaped valley, the declivities of which encroach with
long arms on the African world, and from which the discharge after
the periodical rains would be also only _periodical_. Unless it
has an immeasurable tributary stream as an unfailing source from a
south-westerly ramification of the Abyssinian high lands, because
the _level_ ground, notwithstanding its tropical vegetation, has
too little power of attraction to justify such an enormous power
of throwing out water by the instrumentality of a lake, under the
absorbing African sun.

The breadth of the current amounts generally here to about five
hundred paces; its reed-lakes are always at the side. At half-past
two o’clock we move slowly S.S.E. with the north wind, which has
nearly died away, and set to work with the oars. We are glad that
it is a north wind, thinking that it may become constant before the
end of this month. Four o’clock. What Fadl said three hours ago is
confirmed even now, inasmuch as I see from the deck the right shore
more than a quarter of an hour distant, though I am not able from the
cabin to look over the reeds. The palms stand here in graceful rows,
and satisfy the wandering eye in search of something to rest upon;
an isolated dhellèb is also seen far up the river. We sail W. by
S., and a skirt of trees with some dhellèbs behind approaches us,
but is lost soon again in the distance to S.W. There is nothing to be
distinguished on the left shore. Ant-hills are visible in the reeds,
among which, in spite of their fresh green, there are dry spots.

On the right shore we noticed a giraffe and twenty elephants, the
latter teazed in an impudently friendly manner by white birds, against
whom they tossed up their trunks: their tormentors, however, always
returned to their heads and high backs, in order to pick the ticks
out of their thick skins, like the crows on the pigs in Greece. They
appear to me to be the very same birds we saw in Egypt perched on
cows and camels. When the last-named animals have old wounds on
their backs, they are visited by birds of prey. I was never allowed
to shoot them, because the Arabs believe that they pick out _only_
the tainted flesh, and even contribute to heal the wounds, when the
unmerciful cauterization of these people proves ineffectual. Mariàn
shewed me some trees, of singular shape, having a corolla like that
of a cactus. They are called _Shudder el Simm_, or poison-trees. On
the left bank of the river I saw fourteen miserable tokuls upon the
partly dried up morass, projecting between the reeds, and various iron
pots lying about. They had the usual pointed roof of straw or halfa;
the lower wall of reeds was plastered over with morass. Judging from
this plaster, which had fallen off three feet high from the earth,
the water had only risen here four feet, reckoning the height of
the island at a foot. This, the highest water-line, had not been
able to carry away an old thatched roof of some four feet high,
and six feet diameter.

Beyond these fishing-huts, spread far and wide in the water, is
reed grass, overtopped like a bush by high rushes. Now I find it
explained why the White Stream on the efflux of these slime-lakes,
wherein thousands of animals miserably die, stands in such bad repute
in Khartùm, because we found ourselves a short time ago, when in a
tributary arm of the river, in a nonplus,—the water being really
undrinkable. A microscope might generally give interesting results
in these places. The lakes must not be considered as similar to the
slime-lakes of the Blue Nile, Rhine, and Rhone.

Sunset, six o’clock.—From the mast the right shore is seen
retreating to the distance of an hour, and approaches again before us,
whilst the left bank comes near us for a moment, so that a round basin
with a wide mouth is created. We hoist sails, and row to S.E. by S.

It is evident that the Nile, which we traverse, in spite of all its
circular windings, can never go out of the path of that _old shore_
so often denoted. It is certain that these windings enclose the
gigantic bed of the stream in vast curved lines; for the primitive
stream could not be arrested by a paltry opposition, as the present
one is, even by the reeds. If a journey by land were practicable
on the old border of the Nile, the road would be far shorter. The
thermometer has now got up to 25°. We stay behind during the night,
because the crew will not work any more. Feïzulla Capitan retreats
ashamed into the cabin and says not a word.

_20th December._—Even before daybreak I went out of the cabin to
watch the weather; but the mist which melted away yesterday morning at
the rising-sun, did not make its appearance. Nevertheless, I watched
for the third time the dawn of morning, and found I could read a
printed book three-quarters of an hour before sunrise. The morning
dawn is, therefore, not so very short as is generally believed. I
had previously remarked this also in Khartùm. We had 26° Reaumur,
yesterday afternoon, in spite of the dead calm only 25°. The fall
of dew was considerable, and wetted my guns even through the window,
which I had scarcely opened. The hippopotami put their heads above
water, as if to consider the appearance of our ships.

Immediately after the sunrise a gentle wind arose, directly
increasing, however, to a strong breeze, and we sailed from the
north, S.W.; but soon rounded a sharp corner of the reeds on the right
shore towards E. A group of high rushes of twenty feet high above the
water was entwined picturesquely with the blooming convolvulus, which
also floated in long tendrils with numerous flowers upon the water,
intersected, likewise, by high aquatic herbs and low plants. The
water hurries partly in cheerful flowing rivulets through this group,
in order to seek the nearest channel. The left shore surrounds
us at a distance of half an hour or an hour, in a beautiful arch,
with palm clumps and isolated trees, from N. to S. by E.

Our course amounts to two miles and a half, and the rapidity of the
river here is generally half a mile. Nine o’clock.—Just as I
lift up my eyes, we go again from S.W. to E. by S., and immediately
to S.W., where we see some strong trees before us. Half-past nine
o’clock, S., then S.W., subsequently S., and then S.E., with four
miles’ course.

Once more we see, after a lapse of a long time, a certain number
of people, said to form a considerable nation, under the name of
Kèks. The little village yonder contains only thirteen wretched
tokuls; the pointed roofs are low, and, like the walls, of
straw. Among the trees there are some which branch out vigorously,
and have a thick green foliage; they are said also to be found in
upper Kordofàn or Nuba, where, according to Mariàn, they are
called Tihls. Their fruit is long and large, like the pumpkin,
and edible. Possibly a Nuba negro may think them relishing; but
subsequently, when we found a number of such trees, called by the
Arabs _elephant-trees_, I found the unripe fruit not eatable. The
Arabs also, who themselves eat _locusts_, although not from choice,
never eat this fruit even when ripe. Isolated poison-trees also
stand round about there. A second village lay back in the reeds. The
people were of a livid colour, and naked; they smear themselves, as
the Shilluks are said partly to do, with Nile slime, as a protection
against the sting of gnats.

It was affecting to see how these poor creatures raised both hands
high in the air, and let them slowly fall, by way of greeting. A
woman likewise, naked to the girdle, greeted us, placing her elbows
somewhat close to her body, and made with her hands, the flat side
upwards, the motion of saluting usual also with us. She had an
ivory ring round her head, and another round the neck; which last
must have been either ingeniously put together, or slipped over her
head in her youth. The men wore ivory rings around one arm. A man
turned towards his hut, as if inviting us in; another stood alone,
lifted his hands, and jumped round in a circle upon one spot.

[Illustration: DOUM-PALMS. DHELLEB-PALMS. BAOBABS. BAOBABS.

A VILLAGE OF THE SHILLUKS, ON THE LEFT SHORE OF THE NILE.

25TH MARCH, 1841.]

Our Dinkas (whose language is allied to that of the Nuèhres and
Keks), said that they wanted durra from us, and told us that their
cows were far away, and would not return till evening. (Durra is
called in Bellet-Sudàn, _esh_, which denotes _bread_ in Egypt, and
plainly indicates to the primeval bread-corn of the Egyptians found
still in the old tombs; but it is also here used for _bread_ in the
Egyptian manner, whilst the pancake-bread is called _kisra_.) Our
Dinkas, as well as Mariàn, asserted in the most positive manner
that these _Kèks kill no animal_, but only live on grains of seed
and milk. I could distinguish no hair on their heads, and heard
that they coat it with clay, and let it dry in the sun. I greeted
them with my hand, and _two_ of them repeatedly jumped in the air,
and gave me to understand that they recognised my salute. These must
be the real happy Ethiopians, for they seem to lead a blameless life,
and they do not even have festivals, like the Homeric ones. I could
not ascertain, with certainty, whether this sparing of animal life
extends also to game and fish; it was generally asserted, however,
that they eat cattle that _die a natural death_. The latter also is
partly done in the land of Sudàn, but not by the genuine Arabs; it
is even contrary to the Koràn, to eat a beast struck by a bullet,
unless its throat has been cut whilst it yet lived, to let out the
blood: this is scouted also by the Hebrews.

At Khartùm, I saw, one morning, quite early, two dead camels lying
on a public square; the men were cutting off large pieces to roast,
and the dogs stood mournfully around. I myself, with Drs. Fisher
and Pruner, helped to consume, in Kàhira, a roasted portion of
Clot Bey’s beautiful giraffe, which had eaten too much bersim
(white clover): the meat is very tender, and of tolerably fine grain;
the tongue appeared to me a real delicacy. I could never acquire a
taste, however, for the course fibrous flesh of camels, even when
they were young. A German cook might, however, know how to make
it palatable by a suitable sauce. We ourselves have dressed very
tolerable sauerbraten[6] from the tough beef in Khartùm.

Half past ten o’clock. We row round a corner N.E. by N., and are
obliged, owing to the north wind, which is against us in this short
passage, to make use of the sandal as a leader, in order to drag
after us the Kaiàss. We wind then S.S.W.: the wind has freshened,
and we make four miles. At noon a short track to the S.E., but
only for a short time, and we halt on the reeds, opposite to the
right shore. Thibaut visited and invited me to a Burma of merissa,
which he had prepared from _Abrè_. This Abrè is a very fine kind of
bread; it is baked on the usual pan (Docka), by pouring liquid dough
of durra meal on it, and immediately scraping it down with a knife;
to free it from the clay or iron-pan, some butter is put over it now
and then. If a handful of these broken wafers are thrown into a gara,
with water, they give a wonderful coolness to what they float in,
and a pleasant acid taste. On this account it is the usual drink in
the land of Sudàn, and a welcome draught to the thirsty traveller.

Thibaut had made a large Burma of water in a state of fermentation
with this fine bread, and let it work for three days, till the bread
part had sunk to the bottom. This merissa must, however, be quickly
drank, or else it becomes sour. Naturally enough, it was far better
than that prepared in the usual way from warm bread, and withal
uncommonly strong and intoxicating. Even the finer kind of merissa,
called in Sennaar Billbill, is inferior to it. Abrè Nareïn, as the
corpulent Sheikh Defalla prepared it for us during the campaign in
Taka, and as it is drank by the kings of Sennaar, is only superior
to it. This liquor is like beer, and twice put on the fire (Nar),
whereby it acquires its name Abrè Nareïn.

Thibaut’s Reïs (steersman) exhibited the first proofs of the
intoxicating effects of this merissa, and was persuaded to delegate
the task of steering the ship to the former; but Thibaut, who had
begun even earlier to test its strength, was still less capable of
commanding his vessel. The wind had thrown us, in a trice, towards the
other side of the little lake, which forms part of the river. I had
previously remarked the dazzling contrast which the water of the basin
made, through its dark-blue colour, to our course. We think that we
discern in the three segments of that water, three mouths of a river,
separated by the reeds. Beyond this, we also see a real water track,
coming from S.S.E., which may be a river of less importance, but we
could not approach close enough to discover this. It was only with
a great deal of difficulty that we got loose again from the reeds,
and came into the stream.

We saw Selim Capitan, somewhat behind this little lake, halting at
a village; and a man, who was soon after followed by four women,
wading through the water and going on board. This village, on
the left shore, was called Baiderol, and its Sheikh, Ajà. They
gave presents to these people, but could not learn from them the
name of the great lake; and were soon obliged to ship off, for all
the tribe poured down to get presents of glass beads. These people
belonged to the nation of the Kèks, who are always at war with the
Nuèhrs. I remarked here a new construction of tokuls; as usual, of
reeds and straw, but with flat, cupola-shaped roofs. In the former
expedition, the Turks came here also to Shàmata (contention-war)
with the natives, because the latter had incautiously fired arrows
in the air, which the Turks looked upon as a declaration of war,
and therefore shot down several people.

Thibaut read me the description he has given of Arnaud in his journal;
and I found in the course of conversation, that we had, in 1822, been
together at Philhellenes, in Greece. We lodged close to one another
in Tripolizza, when the Greek heroes (who at that time very modestly
called themselves Romanians, and were unacquainted with the name of
Hellenes) began suddenly to murder, in a base manner, at the Bazaar,
fifty-four unarmed Turkish prisoners, who for some time had managed
to prolong their wretched existence in the city. We Franks saved
three of the wounded Turks in our house, and would not give them up,
though the blood-thirsty people collected before the door. On this
occasion, Dr. Dumont (familiar with the modern Greek language),
and the brave Captain Daumerque, beloved by us all, (subsequently
gloriously known in the Egyptian army by the name of Khalim Agà,)
distinguished themselves in the manner most honourable to mankind
in general, and man in particular.

We remembered very well, that in the everlasting quarrels which
took place, the word “Greek” surpassed all other insults, and
was inevitably followed by a duel, without any other reparation of
the injured honour ever being thought of.

Without the knowledge of my parents, who fancied that I would exchange
Bonn for another university, I had travelled with my friend, the now
Professor Dieffenbach, of Berlin, to Marseilles. George Thibaut had
done the same thing, and thrown up his clerkship in Paris. I found
my books, the Pandects of Mackeldey, with the Archbishop of Argos,
turned into cartridges, in order that I might beat the Turks blue
with the Roman _Corpus juris civilis_, &c. It was a dangerous and
adventurous undertaking. Thibaut went with the other Frenchmen
and Italians to Egypt, to offer the Basha his services. I learnt
eventually to find out the fellows, who are even now figuring away
as robbers, and returned from Smyrna to my dear native land, like an
undeceived Phillhellene who had known, however, how to distinguish
the unworthy cause of these _Synclides_. Ten years afterwards I again
found the old people in celebrated Hellas, only better laced up and
combed, in high Turkish caps.

The river makes from this basin a strong bend to N.N.E.; we had
sometimes, therefore, to use oars, sometimes the towing-rope. The
breadth of the river, including the reeds, is from one hundred and
fifty to two hundred paces. The rapidity of the current below that
little lake is one mile; it decreases, however, to half a mile in the
basin, and amounts now to one mile and a half. Our course was very
troublesome, slow, and so irregular, that it would be difficult to
calculate the length of this short passage. We sailed then a short
tract to the S.W., then S. and E., rowed N.W., and after sunset to
the north, without having advanced further to the south. The latitude
is 7° 48′, and the longitude 27° 41′ east of Paris.

_21st December._—I passed the night on board Thibaut’s vessel,
for mine had remained behind. This morning we worked towards the
east. We found in the little lake of yesterday such beautiful clear
water as only the Blue Nile displays at low ebb. Its dark water is
kept back in a sharp cut by the current of the still high Nile. It
may be inferred that the goodness of it arises from a neighbouring
spring-lake, or from a mountain-river, the blue water of which
may flow, even in other places, imperceptibly through the reeds
to the Nile: this is the case also with the Gazelle River. It was
a pity that, when we drank of the beautiful water, the village of
Baiderol lay behind us. My vessel will not even yet work up; I visit,
therefore, the Frenchmen, to inspect the hygrometer. It was about
eight o’clock, and the hygrometer shewed 70°: at night, however,
it had got up to 75°, and usually went back at noon to 20°: which
may be taken as the average in these lakes. For a long time there
have been only very few streaky clouds in the horizon, which were
scarcely to be distinguished from the firmament.

I saw yesterday evening the first shooting-stars; but none had
been remarked by any of the rest. At ten o’clock I jumped on
Selim-Capitan’s vessel, who had invited me by dumb show whilst I was
with Thibaut, during the dead calm. We sail with the north wind S.E.,
but the pleasure was soon at an end. Yet no! Selim-Capitan did me the
favour of sailing _east by north_ with the north wind; but the oars,
however, were obliged to be used to assist us, in order to prevent
our running ashore. This manœuvre succeeded; and the others, who
had reefed their sails, followed the example. It lasted, however,
only a short time, for a strong S.E. wind getting up, threw us on
the left shore of the reeds on the right hand.

Selim-Capitan shews far more energy and attention than I should
have given him credit for, comprehends everything very quickly,
and, with the exception of his Greco-Turkish faults, which I will
touch upon afterwards, his character has been entirely mistaken. We
reckon our number of miles from yesterday at noon till to-day at the
same time, to be fifteen; and find, after the necessary reduction,
that we have advanced only two miles in direct line towards S. The
land retreats on all sides. From the deck I still discover the dark
vigorous trees of yesterday, called by Mariàn Tihl, and otherwise
named Shudder el Fill (elephant-tree), the large fruit of which is
said to be welcome food to elephants. At noon we towed southwards—a
very troublesome labour, for there are sloughs and gohrs on every
side in the reeds, which the crew must swim through in order to get
firmer ground for a short time. Even this presents many difficulties,
owing to the reeds and their great unevenness. Nevertheless, the food
of the crew is not so bad as in Khartùm, although for several days
we have been in want of meat; thus they are not very much spoiled
from their birth upwards. The N.E. wind, which was slack at mid-day,
freshens at three o’clock; we sail E.S.E., and in five minutes
again S.W by S., and make three miles. But already again we see
the river going eastward, and we follow it, really S.E. and E.S.E.,
and then E. within a short time, for it makes eternal bends here,
of two hundred paces, or less, in breadth.

Four o’clock.—To S.; ten minutes after, to W. We see towards
the south, on the right shore, from aloft, a small land-lake, the
white basin of which denotes some depth, and appears not to be fed by
the main stream. We observe in the back ground, two villages, with
dhellèbs and other trees, and in the distance other villages upon
a bare whitish shore, skirted with some trees. The vessels coming
after us reach to our right side, where the left shore ought to
lie, a good gun-shot distance from the reeds—and, O illusion and
fancy!—the old shore on the right, with its villages and trees,
is _Sherk_ (_East_)—that is, the right shore of the river.—Five
o’clock, from S.W. to S. We make only half a mile, whilst the
current is not more rapid. At sunset we remark a number of birds,
mostly long-shanks, moving in two divisions near one another from west
to east, and perhaps repairing to the already more exposed sources
of the Nile. Thermometer 17°, 25°—27°, and 22°, at the three
different times of the day. The river three fathoms in depth.

_22nd December._—I remained last night on board Selim Capitan’s
vessel. From S.E., which direction we reached yesterday evening,
we now went with a faint north wind to east, and our course had
one mile and a half in rapidity. At last I saw on the low ground
in the south, a village, with a large tree, apparently a baobàb,
and further on the old right shore, with palms and other trees;
when,—at half-past eight o’clock,—no more was to be seen of the
left shore. At half-past nine o’clock we went to the right shore
to fetch wood. The crew landed under a suitable guard, with axes,
for we remarked a village in the neighbourhood, and feared the old
acquaintance of this people. There were, moreover, no regular trees
to be seen here, but only stunted and decayed trunks, standing on or
near the countless ant-hills. These serve the natives as watch-towers,
as we had already seen, but no person appeared on them. The stumps
were said to be torn and disfigured by the elephants; indeed we
saw several deep impressions made by the feet of these colossi,
for the river had flowed off from hence some time.

The wind has gone round to E., and is very favourable; whereupon we
sail also at half-past ten o’clock from this place S.E. towards
S., but soon draw to the E. and row; then sail to N.E., and assist
with the oars. At noon, owing to the dead calm, we are towed in
a south-easterly direction, and at three o’clock we make use
slightly of our sails to S.W. by S., and soon afterwards S.E. by
S. On the left shore, a long row of isolated trees is visible, also
groups of trees themselves, among which, afar off, are distinguished
dhellèb-palms. They mark, indeed, as usual, the real old shore,
for they do not thrive in the morass, but frequently also they may
denote, like other trees, the ephemeral margin of the river. The
dhellèb-palms come nearer before us in a wide bend, which, however,
may be only so in appearance. The reeds are already on dry ground,
and a lower border of the same forms the momentary limits of the
river. We remark also here on the right shore of the reeds, where we
halt about five o’clock, in a southerly direction, several deep
foot-prints of elephants, who have trod down and eaten away every
thing, so that only single bushes of high rushes remain. Ant-hills,
of eight to ten feet high, rise indeed around, but neither tree nor
house—a real elephant pasture-ground.

I went on board Suliman Kashef’s ship, and found there my Feïzulla
Capitan again, but in such a state of intoxication, that he fancied I
was lost from his ship. He regretted me, and I played also this time
again the “achùl el bennàt,” and carried him safely home. It is
a wonder that his crew, who have worked themselves tired the whole
day, and with whom he is always joking in his Turkish drunkenness,
do not thoroughly lose their patience and respect.

_23rd December._—Instead of sailing at daybreak with the favourable
wind, one vessel went after the other to the left shore, but we soon
heard that the vessel of the commander, Selim Capitan, was full of
water, having drawn so much during the night, that if the morning
had not brought this circumstance to light, it would inevitably
have sunk. Biscuit, durra, wheat, and all the other provisions were
taken out, and dried on the sails spread on the shore. Sale made a
capital shooting excursion, and is very proud of it: he requests his
comrades not to shoot any more, for they only throw away powder. The
birds are generally the very same as those we found in Taka. I shall
return to this subject hereafter.

We could plainly remark near the numberless ant-hills, of eight to
ten feet high, and thirty to thirty-six paces in circumference,
by the difference of the same vegetation, how far the water has
washed over these hills, and how inconsiderably it has reached
up to the same, although the whole earth, in which there are many
foot-prints, and marks of elephants, rose itself only two feet above
the present surface of water. Even here, therefore, where a lake must
always disclose itself when the water is at its greatest height,
the ascent of the river is only slight, owing to its overflowing
in an immeasurable space. In a more extended excursion, I lighted
upon a low green plot of ground with water, and as I had remarked
from the deck and mast-head, these verdant tracks are found again
in the half-dug elephant-pasture. They may be old beds of the Nile,
choked up by reeds and slime.

Wild cucumbers were very frequently met with here, and with their
yellow flowers, often take the high rushes on the water into their
friendly embrace. The under stratum of the ground is formed here
also, as elsewhere, by blue clay, mixed with a little sand, whereon
a covering of humus lies, the vegetable parts of which are visible
in masses, less from their being decomposed by the atmosphere, than
from being worked up by the feet of animals. Hygrometer, at eight
o’clock, eighty degrees.

_24th December._—After everything had been dried and packed up
again yesterday, we make, towards the evening, a very short track,
in order to secure ourselves somewhat more from the gnats, which have,
on the whole, decreased, and we cast anchor. Our clock, put at six at
sunset, shewed also six o’clock, when the sun rose S.E. by E. The
trombetta (drummers) beat a _reveillée_ at the first tinge of dawn;
that is here an hour and a quarter before the sun; yet I could not
read for the first half hour.

The whole sky has been clouded since we left the country of the
Shilluks; and although they are not our heavy white clouds, the
sun cannot penetrate through them. A mist, in appearance like a
coast cut off from the horizon, surrounded us on all sides, without
visibly extending itself in our neighbourhood. This layer of mist,
however, was open from S. to S.W., where the river probably flows,
with which the mist nearest to us melted away before daybreak, as I
have so often remarked on the Rhine. The hazy streak of the rising
sun is splendidly irradiated from E. to S., and therefore deludes
us to believe that it is a broad luminous stream, or white lake,
contrasted with the dark edge of the sky. I had remarked, the evening
before last, a similar misty veil to the east, and, as I expected,
there were light mists yesterday morning, before sunrise, on the
river, and slowly floating down with it.

We went this morning E.S.E., and at seven o’clock S.W., without
having got ahead, for the very feint north wind had not yet made
up its mind. One of our vessels sails towards E. in the grass,
and appears to have struck into another road, in order to cut us
off. Isolated dhellèb-palms on the right shore, and towards N.E. a
whole group of them; whilst on the left shore a great wood is visible,
drawing into the land, as I hear, from the west. Before this forest
shady Tihl-trees, with broad branches, in our neighbourhood; the
right shore retreats again here, with its blooming ambak-thicket.

The lakes seem, in some measure, to be at an end; but the gigantic
bed of the stream remains, although the old high shores are not,
perhaps, to be discovered, for we cannot approach the real dry ground,
as the river does not extend so far. This must, however, have been
an extensive margin of the river, separated from it, between which,
towards the sides, the water flows and ripples in small rivulets, like
a meadow under water. It is said that there are no more doum-palms
here, although I would take some trees in the distance for them,
having, it is true, a stunted appearance compared with those in Taka,
but similar to those commonly found on the White River.

Half-past eight o’clock. To S.E. by S.; then an easterly direction,
with the usual deviations, and at last S. From the mast is seen,
near the before-named shady elephant-trees, a whole herd of these
lovers of their fruit,—the white birds on their massive backs,
whom they are trying to drive away with their trunks.

About ten o’clock S.E. by E. and S.E. I think I see on the right
shore, a small river, discharging itself in the reeds, for the colour
in the little basin is different from that of our water. Immediately
afterwards, a small village, composed of low, wretched tokuls. A
dog looked at us, but did not bark, much as he was teased; he was
a large-boned greyhound, such as are seen generally in Taka and
Sennaar. This fishermen’s village stands some three feet above the
water, and we see by the fresh repairing of the huts with Nile slime,
that the river must have washed against this place. Four sails go
on the right, at a regular distance W., in the reeds, whilst the
vessels sailing a-head in S.E., also look over the reeds, and move
towards the E. The ambak-wood continues almost uninterruptedly on our
left. About eleven o’clock, from S.W., is an extensive bend to the
E., and afterwards to N.E., as it appears from the other vessels. On
the right stands an enclosed dhellèb-palm, quite solitary in the
wide green lake; and yet it delights the eye as a resting-point,
like the sails far and near.

From the undulating eastern direction, swerving to the N.E.,
where the towing-path is now made through the reeds, we wheel,
according to the dear old custom, towards S., in which direction we
halt at noon on the right shore, to wait for the other vessels. The
north-wind having become stronger since half-past eight o’clock,
promises to be favourable for the two windings we see before us. We
see over those vessels, towards S.E., clouds of smoke arise in the
forest, about half an hour distant, as we did yesterday and the day
before. Over the green-flat, to the E., from which bushes of high
rushes and ant-hills rise, several dhellèb-palms.

At three o’clock we set sail towards W.S.W., yet soon again S.S.W.,
and at four o’clock S.E. by S.

One mile rapidity. Five o’clock. To W. On the right thirteen tokuls,
which, like the four on the opposite side, near our landing-place,
are partly new, partly restored, for the high-water rises above these
new shores. There are neither human beings nor anything else living
to be seen near the poor, badly built huts. The river navigated by
us has here a breadth of some four hundred paces. To the N. we at
last observed the vessels which had remained behind, and from yonder
the Haba shews itself, with groups of trees jutting out in a circle
to some distance; in N.W. smoke ascends in different places: as on
the left, to the E., in the far distance over the trees, although
no villages can be seen even from the mast.

These pillars of smoke are considered by the crew not as aerial
angels of peace and friendship, but rather as a general signal
against us. It seems more probable to me, however, judging from
analogy with the people, dwelling in Taka, that this kindling of
high grasses and pines is done by the tribes of the place to free
their territory from insects, snakes, and other noxious animals,
or to give air and nourishment to the sprouting grass, in order to
make it fit for pasture. In these forest-burnings we must seek for
the cause of the bad and stunted condition of the wood.

I thought that the river made a bend to the S., because I saw water
there; but they tell me from the mast, that this water is a broad
gohr, or Birke, (land-lake). It shews itself a gun-shot distance
from the river, and quite parallel to it from E. to W., and is, at
this moment, only divided from it by the reeds under water, and an
ambak-thicket. A water-course meandered through the rushes to the
eastern end of the lake. The crew affirmed that the lake receives
its water from the river by this road (sikka): this, indeed, is not
_impossible_, but it is _improbable_, for the river must propel its
current against the water from W. to E. I believe rather that the lake
feeds itself from S.W., where incisions are remarked in the reeds,
and behind, a long and broad marsh-land. The lake and the river have
now an equal level, and there is neither an influx nor outflux to
be seen in the so-called little water-road. If it be not an outlet
of the lake, discharging its higher surface of water through the
reeds, it is a road for crocodiles and river-buffaloes. The broken
rushes and the scattered borders of the lower vegetation, &c. make me
believe the latter supposition. I have also remarked, at this moment,
a large hippopotamus wallowing about there.

There can scarcely be a doubt that this waterpath serves the
fishing-boats as a channel. The lake is from E. to W. about an hour
long. There may be numbers of such collective lakes and tributaries
which the reeds hide from us; for these waters, when the Nile is _at
its height_, do not rush into it, and cannot force a road through
the luxuriant and strongly articulated world of plants. These
plants perhaps allow a conjunction of water; but no open tributary
stream for the rise and fall of the waters takes place at the same
time. Fadl tells me that the lake is only twice as broad as the Nile,
which is here three hundred paces; and the head of the lake is said
to draw towards the south, thereby shewing itself to be an old bed
of the river.

No large fish are found here; for if there were any we must have
heard them at times in the evening splashing up; that is, supposing
they were very abundant in these lakes. However, in the land of
the Shilluks several fish of uncommon size, such as are seen in
the markets at Kàhira and Khartùm, floated towards us, dead. The
crew eat them, although they stank. Standing at the helm, above the
cabin, I noticed, before sun-set, seven elephants, with two young
ones, feeding on the right in the reed-grass, and, for this once,
unmolested by their feathered friends. We halt on account of the
faint breeze, towards the west, in order to wait for the vessels,
the sun going down before us and throwing all its charms on the
limitless watery expanse. Throughout the whole day it had never
shone through those misty veils, which appeared so lightly floating.

Feïzulla Capitan has found a new consolation, by establishing a
small brandy distillery. For this purpose he used dates, a great
quantity of which fruit we carried with us. One burma forms the
boiler, and another, with a reed in it, the head of the still. As,
however, he only once draws off this araki, there remain too many
lees in it to be pleasant; but this does not offend the taste and
smell of the bold captain. The thermometer before sunrise 19°,
from noon to afternoon 25-26°; after sunset 24°. The hygrometer
had fallen from 80° to 30°.




                             CHAPTER VIII.

ARNAUD’S IGNORANCE AND SELIM CAPITAN’S CUNNING. — HATRED OF
THE THREE FRENCHMEN TO EACH OTHER. — THE ENDERÀB TREE. — THE
POISON TREE HARMLESS. — REMARKS ON THE LAKES IN CONNEXION WITH
THE WHITE NILE. — THE WOOD OF THE AMBAK TREE. — FONDNESS OF
THE ARABS FOR NICK-NAMES. — THE AUTHOR DEFENDED FROM GNATS BY A
CAT. — INTERVIEW WITH A KÈK. — HUSSEÏN AGA’S DRINKING BOUTS
WITH FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — DESCRIPTION OF A SUN-RISE. — VISIT OF
THE KÈKS. — SOLIMAN KASHEF AND THE LOOKING-GLASS.


25th December.—We are still waiting for the Kawàss and Sandal. A
man had been given to each of these ships to assist them; but we
have gained nothing by it; and therefore Selim Capitan intends to
tow both of them. Thibaut and I visited the invalid, Sabatier, who
scarcely knew how to keep himself from laughing when Selim-Capitan
took upon himself to give lessons anew to the learned Arnaud, who
very boldly asserted in our presence, that the “altitudine”
and “amplitudine” of the sun were one and the same thing. As
we then well understood, Selim Capitan wants Arnaud and he to agree
in their calculations, and grudges no instruction to the latter for
that purpose. He tells us, that such a coincidence with the French
engineer is the more necessary, because the Viceroy would sooner
credit the reckonings of a scientific Frenchman than of a Turk,
who had never seen Frankestàn. According to Sabatier, Arnaud has
not made yet a single calculation, because he is not capable of
doing so, but loads his back with these burdens, notwithstanding
Sabatier’s feverish state of health. Unfortunately, this appears
to be exactly the case, for Arnaud always agrees with Selim-Capitan,
who is exceedingly reserved in speech; and therefore it is really
fortunate that the Turk, being a naval officer, understands something
at least of these matters.

The three French gentlemen mutually conceal their journals, in
which one abuses the other; but they each fetch them out from their
hiding-places, in order to read them to me, and I am obliged to
listen to them. Arnaud lies, as usual, and relates in his journal,
that he bought a beautiful slave from a captain—although the
black girl belonged to a sailor, and Thibaut, in my presence,
played the interpreter when she was sold. He pretends to have been
a pupil of the Polytechnic School at Paris, and yet is not capable
of writing three lines of French correctly. “_In Egypt one must be
everything_,” Dr. Gand used to say, who studied in Germany, and who,
in 1822, was in Greece with me, and the physician in ordinary of Abbas
Basha. Europeans appear generally to know this, and therefore exhibit
no shame in getting themselves appointed, in Egypt, to situations
for which they were never brought up. “_Exempla sunt odiosa_.”

Still mist this morning, and the hygrometer stood, at eight o’clock,
at 78°. We advance about ten o’clock, with a gentle east wind,
towards the west. About eleven o’clock, direction S.S.E., one
mile’s rapidity of course, and half a mile rapidity of current. Half
an hour later we sail westward, in which direction Suliman Kashef
has already gone ahead of us. At midday the east wind strengthened
and passed over into S.E. We sail for scarcely half an hour S.S.W.;
then a very short track to S., where we approach the trees of the
Haba, and immediately, W. by N., making three miles and a half in
the hour. We remained scarcely five minutes in this direction, as
the river winds S.E. A small lake with reed banks, sharply separated
from it, lies to the right shore, in this encroaching corner. Probably
the river ran formerly through this lake in a straight line, and the
angle from S.W. to N.E. was cut off. The S.E. wind is contrary for
us, wishing to go S.S.E.; but fortunately this neck of land is dry,
and so we take to libàton. Our Dinkas and Mariàn assert that the
land here still belongs to the Dinkas, who continue on the right
shore still higher up, whilst the Kèks possess the left shore. We
go southwards, and anchor at the right shore to fell wood.

In spite of the hot exhalations of the ground, which I felt indeed
in my feet and legs, and notwithstanding the heat of 28°, I go a
little into the interior of the country. The usual clay soil was
under the humus, for the whole surface of the earth was open to it,
and full of deep holes or foot-prints of the colossal animals running
here. The trees have a sickly appearance, and are old dwarf trees
standing upon and round about the ant-hills. These trees are called
_Enderàbs_. The bark is smooth on the old trunk and has nearly fallen
off; on the young straight shoots it is rough, and a brownish grey,
like in the hazel-tree; the leaf is lanceolated similar to that of
the Oleander’s, but light green and slender, with sharply indented
borders. The wood is, on the whole, soft, and may be compared to the
linden wood. The greatest part of the Haba consists of these trees,
which, however, had also previously appeared. The reed-grass was
eaten away and trodden down by the beasts. It might, in former times,
have caught fire, and contributed to the destruction of this forest.

Four o’clock.—Already the drum has beaten three times for
departure; but everything in our vessel remains in the most beautiful
state of tranquillity; because the wood-hewers, scattered in the Haba,
must be waited for.

The Nile makes here also a circular stream, which is stronger than
in the preceding curve, where we were driven, in spite of sailing
and rowing, on to Selim Capitan’s vessel. So likewise Suliman
Kashef comes upon us, as if he were going to board us, whilst we
were lying quite peaceably at the shore. The current of the river is
far stronger, and receives below a check by the lake, which may give
it additional water, for the islands floating there dance a waltz in
front of us before going further. There must be some cause for that. I
advance, and see, on the left, another small lake, and succulent
green grass, from its shore even to the Nile. This lake stretches
from N.E. to S.W. The river makes a bend from our landing-place,
which we leave soon after four o’clock, from W. to S.S.W. I am
inclined to believe, judging from the yellow reed-grass, that this
lake, like the former one, where the crew, when towing, were able
to go over the dam, separating it from the river, is closed at its
heading, whilst the river flows by it. I remark also, up the country,
green tracks of vegetation, possibly covering for a short time, or
for ever, the vital veins of the lake. The Haba loses itself, and
only solitary trees denote still the right side of the Nile, whilst
W.N.W. to S.W. a tract, rich in trees, bounds the horizon. The south
extends before us, from S.W. to S.E., without a tree, and perhaps,
therefore, has the river-bed in its centre.

The trees of the left side are unfortunately too far for us to
distinguish them. The crew think, however, that they must be a
kind of date-palms (naghel; the fruit, however, is called tammer,
or bellàgh). But Mariàn says that there are many trees on that
side belonging to the palm species, but bearing large, beautiful
fruit, containing milk, which, he thought, were a species of
cocoa-palm. These trees rise with a straight shaft similar to the date
and dhellèb-palms; but the top appears to be entirely flat, like
an extended fan, or a round table. I had seen also, from the ship,
in that forest, some poison-trees: now, I heard dreadful things told
of them, that even the scent of their flowers, or a thorn, nearly
invisible on them, falling on one’s hand, is certain death, and
that the natives poison their arrows with it. This Shudder el Simm
is called, in the language of the Nubas, _Auer_, and I was curious
to see the tree somewhat nearer.

With the before-mentioned short course from W. to S.S.W., we came
again to the right shore, and to the Haba, where we halted again. I
sprang on the shore, which is only two and a half to three feet above
the water, as in the preceding place, under the very same appearances,
and I found in the poison-tree an old acquaintance of mine at Taka;
but with this difference, however, that it might be called here a
tree, whilst there it was only a shrub. Both of them are Euphorbias. I
had, in Taka, cut off such a cactus-like plant, with its blue-reddish
flowers, similar to those of the ushàr (_Asclepias procera_), and
crushed it in my hand, when I punished in the Haba the stubbornness of
my donkey, who wanted to join his brothers grazing in the meadow. I
had involuntarily touched my lips and the tip of my tongue with the
hand wet with the poisonous sap. Notwithstanding all the washing, I
for two days found the taste of it quite abominable, without alarming
myself the least about it, for I did not consider it more poisonous
than the ushàr, the leaves of which are eaten by goats. These
leaves, well-known from their intoxicating quality, are laid upon
funnel-shaped sieves, in order to strain merissa through them, by
which the milk, gushing from the leaves, mixes with the liquor itself.

I made no ceremony of cutting off a branch from a poison-tree
fifteen feet high, with the fruit, which are little round knobs,
and had not yet come to maturity. The crew were somewhat angry when I
came on board with it, and avoided me, till they saw that I laid it
close to me on my bed, without the least evil consequences arising
from it. Mariàn told me that they prepared the poison from this
tree by boiling its milk and the sap, pressed between two stones;
when this has become thick, like asside (meal-pap), the arrows are
dipped into it.

The wind has left us, and we advance with the assistance of oars,
about five o’clock, from S.S.W. to W.S.W. Towards S.W. the oars
were obliged to assist the hoisted sails, owing to the faint wind. A
small lake shews itself again, as before, on the left, where it goes
round in the obtuse corner from S.W. to N.E. This announces here the
old direction of the once majestically flowing river, parallel with
the forest, to the brink of which these lakes are arranged in a line,
one by the other. We go from S.W., around the before-named corner,
to N.E., leave the lake mentioned behind us, and have, at sunset,
a long row of low tokuls, near which a thick cloud of smoke extends
to a distance. Our blacks perceive through the smoke a large herd of
cattle. We have wood enough, but for several days have been deficient
in meat, and the crew cannot apparently pass without tasting the
flesh of these animals. No human form, however, is to be seen on the
shore any more than on the right, where we had remarked isolated
huts, as well as by the lakes. To the west, behind this village,
extends an immeasurable meadow, having mists rising over it, like
clouds, whilst a thick layer of mist lies round the whole horizon,
which we may consider as an exhalation from the dried-up country.

The new moon is seen and heartily greeted by the Reïs, as a sign of
our fortunate journey. Nevertheless, it was two days old, and there
was but little merit, therefore, in its discovery by the Arabs, who
themselves discover immediately the fine sickle of the new moon, even
when the sun is still in the heavens. We moved up to eight o’clock
a short distance in S.W., and anchored in the middle of the river
to wait for the morning, and with it the hospitality of the herdsmen.

_26th December._—We looked in vain this morning for an oblation
of flesh, and an embassy on the part of the herdsmen. Therefore,
even before sunrise, we moved on with a faint wind from S.W. to
N.W. On the left of the right shore a village, but no human beings,
and, somewhat forward, a lake in the corner, from N.W. to W.:
they told me from the mast that even behind the village there was a
lake. It is the very same case with this lake as with the preceding
ones. The range of these lakes of _the more straight tract_, which
the river previously followed as the direction most worthy of it,
and even now at high-water may renew for a short time, is plainly
manifest. Solitary trees stand right and left, more or less removed
from the shore; but no high shore is to be seen here, such as the line
of the horizon, covered with trees, had deceived me to believe. This
dry pasture-land is, at the most, three feet above the water; and
even from the trees and high ant-hills yesterday, I could not discover
any other tract of shore than that which the separated trees afford,
and in the direction of which the lakes follow behind one another.

The bed of the Nile has raised itself here like in all other places,
without the shore being proportionably elevated: this is also the
case in Nubia and Egypt; for the level ground gives an indefinite
extension to the stream, by which it can wallow and carouse in the
untried shores; not to mention that this whole territory navigated
by us was a fresh water lake. The shore land could not therefore
be raised in the manner of downs here by the river, on account of
the want of sand or light earth, and moreover, because the river
deposits also but little slime, the ingredients of which flow away
to the hollow land, and only receive their fertilizing qualities by
the process that takes place on their journey.

_Eight o’clock._—The faint S.W. veered for a short time to the
North, with a slight squall, and we sailed with two miles course
from S.W. to S.; but on the left the evolution continues in the form
of an arch to E. by S., where we halt, in order to go, libàhn, the
wind coming now from the east. The left shore forms a broad edge of
high reeds, over which we cannot see. Red and blue convolvulus float
and creep around, as well as two species of wild cucumbers, one of
which has a large and deep yellow flower; the other, small and pale
yellow. Reddish and yellowish flowing beans, and other water-plants,
are entwined in picturesque confusion. On the left hand is observed
in the distance a single palm, which was previously on our right,
so that we can scarcely imagine how we shall get in the old path
again. Over an extended, magnificently green savannah prairie of
high grass, the melancholy Enderàb forest of yesterday is still
visible at a distance: its soft wood is as brittle as glass.

I yesterday split several stems of the ambak already described. I
found, as previously, that they are more like a woody pith than real
wood. No pith, properly speaking, is distinguished at the first sight,
but I now discover that a pith-canal of about a quarter of an inch
in diameter shoots through it. The contents were cleared out in the
most careful manner by ants, as is generally the case where these
insects are in the neighbourhood. The giant rush is becoming less
abundant. The ray-formed expanding rushes of the corolla are often two
feet long, and branch again into smaller ones, with the usual tendency
of the flowers of rushes. From nine to half-past one o’clock,
we have only made two miles and-a-quarter with the towing-rope, for
the high reeds hung with creepers on the right margin of the river
present endless difficulties. It is to be hoped that the N.E. wind
which has now set in, will continue for a time, for we make three
miles, as we go from E. by S., over S.E. to S. At three o’clock
we make a further bend from S. over E. to N.E., yet with the line,
where another margin of high reeds gave us the same trouble.

We passed here by some tokuls, which were plundered of everything by
the men towing the vessels. They gave me also fruits and lotus-roots,
being here as large as pomegranates, and quite fresh; on account of
which they were placed on reed-stalks to dry. This fruit is still
abundant in the rushy marshes, and very quickly ripens, because we
have not seen any lotus-flowers since the land of the Shilluks. They
also brought me seeds of the broad reeds called “slaves’ rice.”
When we survey the small stock of rice in the corbel, we find that
this is not even collected in a mass, and therefore a harvest of
grain—that is, of this and similar seeds—must be always very
troublesome. The reed-grass here was never trodden down by cattle,
and these people may therefore only live by fishing. Two fish, large
of their species, the _Bolti_ (Chromis Niloticus), a favourite with
every one in Khartùm, lie on the shore, and must therefore not be
quite fresh, as the Egyptian wolves let them remain. A dark brown
thick felt cap, found there, was well adapted by its globular form
to make a blow with a club less sensible or entirely harmless. At
four o’clock we sail a short track S. by E.: see on the right and
left small fishing-villages, and, indeed at this moment shaded by
the reeds. The surface of the earth is here clearly somewhat higher,
and therefore was dried sooner. The extreme margin of the shore was,
near the plundered village, from two and a half to three feet high;
whilst that towards the huts was one and a half or two feet higher,
and formed a kind of low dike. A subordinate river, choked up with
mud, and appearing to be used as a fish-pond, lies behind the huts
on the right shore. We have soon at our side a second village with
two geïlid-trees, as well as a deserted river-bed for fishing in;
for we see at the lower end a ditch, serving, after the high water
has receded, for the letting off of this fish-pond.

Beyond this village we perceive some trees, near which the smoke rises
up in several places. The last little hamlet consists of fourteen
tokuls, and the people are seen afar off amid the grass hastening to
five other tokuls by the reeds. The inundation seems here altogether
to cease, and the medium height of the water to have commenced for
some time. A vigorous smoke, like a wide-spread steam of slaughtering,
delights our crew. They hope to be able to regale their stomachs with
the delicious roasted morsels, enveloped by these clouds of smoke,
and protected against the insects. We wind an ell’s length to the
right S.W., and over S.S.E. to S.E., and immediately again to W.N.W.,
where we have at five o’clock a large island, in the shape of a
half-moon at our left, and we go then in a bend to the East. The
border of the island consists of reeds continually running into the
river, with their beautiful wreaths of flowers in dentated points;
whilst the ambak forms, in the direction of the interior, gently
ascending hills and woods, which, with their fresh green reeds,
promise more than they may be able to keep. The floating islands
are always meeting us or driving by us, and afford us, on the whole,
the best proof that we have not yet escaped the marshy regions. I have
been seeking for several days, but in vain, a small-leaved water moss,
on account of its elegance, in order to put it again in my collection.

The wind at last, having veered to the north, is nearly quite spent,
and we go from an easterly direction, shortly before sun-set, to
the south. The before-named island seems to have a considerable
breadth, according to the account from the mast. The river winds
again eastward, and we halt immediately after sun-set, having left
behind a well-built village, containing fifteen tokuls, to wait for
the Kaiass and the sandal, which we had abandoned again to their
fate. The Turks hoped, however, that there would be some people in
this village, as it shewed signs of prosperity, and that they would
come to us, to make our worthy acquaintance; but they were deceived,
for the natives appeared to have fled from hence far and wide.

The Arabs are fond of giving nicknames, derived either from the
figure, or some other distinction and manner of acting, to which
they prefix the word Abù. The Kurd, Hüsseïn Aga, has distinguished
himself for a short time, by drinking merissa, which he prepared on
board his vessel; for he found the time hang heavy on his hands, as
he told me, and was vexed that his vessel was always behind. He was
therefore called _Abù Sofaia_,—the latter word being the name of
the sieve for merissa. If a pair of them wanted to teaze each other,
they began to ask, reciprocally: “Your father, what is his name?”
“You, what is your name?” then followed jeering, abusing, and
scoffing. They do not fail, in addition, to use the coarsest words,
if the Turkish listeners are pleased at it. On the sun setting,
the new moon turned both her horns in equal height to the heavens,
and Venus shone immediately over it, exactly similar to the Turkish
escutcheon. This symbol appeared to me more suitable than all our
heraldic compositions.

For the last two nights the gnats have been very troublesome,
notwithstanding that a small cat, which I have not yet seen by
daylight, seems to find particular pleasure in licking my face all the
night through, pulling my beard, and purring continually, thus scaring
away the gnats. The cats, however, in Belled-Sudàn are generally of
a more savage nature, apparently arising from the unkind treatment
of the people: they go even into the hen-roosts, and the strongest
fowls are lacerated by them; but they meddle very little with rats
and mice. The Baràbras, especially those of Dòngola, like them
for eating; not so, however, the Arabs, who do not persecute them,
because the cat is one of the favourite animals of their Prophet,
but yet hold them unclean. The sky was cloudy to-day, as it was
yesterday and the day before.

_27th December._—Set out immediately after sunrise towards
N.N.W. The sun rises of a dark red colour, exactly behind us, out
of the river, into the red humid atmosphere, and yet there is the
main direction of the river; we have, therefore, a real labyrinth of
circuitous routes to work through. If yesterday, no object disclosed
itself in the south, for the eye to rest upon, so now in the left,
the arm flowing round the island is only to be seen; there is nothing
besides but reeds, and the water which we are navigating. The high
reeds may, it is true, here and there conceal from the eye a tree
or a hut, because, on the whole, we go lower between the dried-up
shores. The N.E. wind is slack, and we assist the sails by rowing
in S.W., where, about eight o’clock, a small village of twelve
tokuls starts up, on the left side of the river, the river coming
from S.E. A dog barks from the neighbouring reeds, and betrays the
hiding-place of the people who had fled, which the blacks, accustomed
to similar signs, corroborated, and wanted even to shoot into the
reeds. Our Abù Hashiss barked lustily against the animal, and it
really appeared as if several large and small dogs were barking.

About an hour’s distance beyond the village some trees are to be
seen; whilst, on the left, where the river now winds to S.E., we do
not observe anything. This also appears to be a fishing village, for
we do not remark any trace of the tread of cattle in the grass. These
poor Icthyophagi have, according to their usual custom, wretched huts,
and their tokuls are also partly plastered with Thin. This thin,
or Nile slime, naturally affords a good material for plastering
the reed walls. It would be good for airstones, if these should be
generally considered a suitable building material in places where
the violent periodical rains of the tropics only too often shew the
contrary. I myself have experienced this in Khartum, where in _one_
night some thirty houses fell. The storm of rain was so violent,
that it broke through the wall of our bed-room, three feet thick,
built of airstones, and in a short time tore an opening the size of a
window. It was only with the greatest difficulty that I was able to
save my brother (the servants being at a distance), by carrying him
away. He was dangerously ill at the time, and, bursting out into a
clear loud laugh, vigorously resisted my endeavours to lay him upon
a table under the door-way, in order that he might not be buried by
the fall of the roof.

The whole horizon is without a high tree; only the ambak covers, in
small thickets, a great part of the island, which is still drawing
nearer to us. The ambak appears here considerably higher and stronger,
to which the warmer climate, together with the earlier inundation
and the growth thereby produced, has mostly contributed. On the
return voyage I will try to procure, at all events, seeds of it;
for I am really curious to see, at some future day, this new species
of tree, the ambak, in my own native country, even should it be in
a hot-house. Although it may not thrive and grow as quickly with us
as here, yet I am quite sure that its incredible productive powers
will excite the more astonishment, because its many large flowers
and great succulent acacia-like leaf, make it an ornamental tree.

The current of the river was tolerably strong this morning, and
amounted to nearly one mile. This difference depends simply on the
_many_ windings of the river, a greater or less fall could be scarcely
followed up in a _single_ one. The medium for these parts may remain
always half a mile. As we see here all the corners of the shore,
without exception, still in the water with their reeds, it may be
supposed that there is also a more shallow river-bed. Vegetation
grows from beneath and the side into the river-bed, and the reeds
advancing in out-and-in bending angles, make the first step to press
and encroach on the river. Slime always sticks to the corners of
these angles, and depositing and rising up from beneath, spreads
again its own vegetation.

I see here water-thistles, with lanceolate leaves, and reddish
flowers of the thickness of a finger, exactly as are seen in our
fish-ponds. Green water-lentils cover the sides of the stream, and are
a plain proof of the stagnating water flowing off in it. At half-past
eight o’clock I hear from Fadl, at the mast, that we are sailing
to the south; that there is a large lake with a village towards the
E. and in the S.E.; also a large lake on the before-named island,
of which the former is a quarter of an hour, and the other half an
hour distant from the river. He is not able to see the other arm
of the river along the right shore, and therefore it has either
lessened in breadth, for previously at its conflux it was broader
than our water-course, or it is very far distant; for Fadl remarks
trees on the right shore, from two hours and a half to three hours
distant, which may be standing indeed on the margin of the river,
whilst its water may be concealed by the ambak thickets.

Yet it is said that this land approaches in a bend towards the
south. Also on the left is seen, in the neighbourhood of the river,
W. by N., a small lake and a large wood, stretching up the country. We
go with our N.E. wind, at nine o’clock, from S. to E. The river
forms here a broad bay, and we lay-to at the left shore, four hundred
paces from which a village is found, containing about thirty tokuls,
but indifferently built, because each individual erects his house
to suit his own convenience, and takes no trouble to beautify it,
but creeps through an oval hole—the general doors of the huts on
the White Nile.

The reeds were burnt down all round, yet the thick green stalks
had withstood the fire, although they were all covered with black
ashes. One of the natives remained quietly standing on the shore,
in order to accurately survey us strangers. Soon after a great number
of our men collected around him, seeking to make use of him as their
bearer, with a flag of truce, in their favourite meat transactions.

I sat down with Suliman Kashef and Selim Capitan on the ashes, with
the negro, who was of a livid colour, owing to the ashes on which he
had slept. He told us, with the assistance of our Dinkas, to whom he
could make himself intelligible, that he had swam through the river,
to visit his brother in the neighbouring village, from which every
one had fled; that his hut was on the right shore, and that he was a
Kèk, like these here. The crowd became too strong for him. The black
looked about him, perplexed; but was, however, persuaded to come with
us on board Selim Capitan’s vessel. When he approached the cabin,
bending his body forward in a comically awkward and ape-like position,
perhaps to denote subjection, he slid round on the ground, dropped on
his knees, and crept into it, shouting repeatedly with all his might,
“Waget tohn agèhn, agiht agiht-waget tohn agèhn, agiht agiht,”
by which words he greeted us, and expressed his astonishment. He had
several holes in the rims of his ears, containing, however, no other
ornament than a single little stick. Strings of beads were brought
out and hung about his neck; there was no end to his transports;
he struck the ground so hard with his posteriors, that it resounded
again, and raised his hand on high, as if praying. When I bound a
string of beads round his wrist, he could not leave off jumping,
at such an invaluable ornament, and never once kept still; he sprang
up, and threw himself down again, to kiss the ground; again he rose,
extended and contracted himself, held his hands over all our heads,
as if to bless us, and sang a very pretty song, full of the simple
melody of nature. He had a somewhat projecting mouth; his nose and
forehead quite regular, as well as the cut of the face itself; his
hair was sheared away short, to about the length of half an inch. He
might have been about thirty years of age; an angular high-shouldered
figure, such as we have frequently perceived among the Dinkas. There
were two incisors wanting above, and four below, which is also the
case with the Dinkas; they pull them out, that they may not resemble
wild beasts. His attitude and gestures were very constrained, arising,
perhaps, partly from the situation in which he found himself; his
shoulders were raised, his head bent forward in unison with his
bent back; his long legs, the calves of which were scarcely to be
perceived, seemed as if broken at the joints of his knees; in short,
his whole person hung together like an orang-outang’s. Added to
this, he was perfectly naked, and no hair, except on his head,
to be seen. His sole ornament consisted of leathern rings above
the right hand. What a grade of humanity is here! This poor man of
nature touched me with his childish joy, in which he certainly felt
happier than any of us. He was instructed to go forward and tell his
countrymen not to fly before us, _honest_ people. Kneeling, sliding
along, jumping, and kissing the ground, he let himself be led away
by the hand like a child, and would certainly have taken it all for
a dream, had not the glass-beads convinced him to the contrary.

Ten o’clock.—The east wind has splendidly freshened, and we sail
S.E. by S. delightfully. We flew by a small village, of ten to twelve
tokuls, on the island, and make six, or rather only three miles;
this pleasure lasting only half an hour. The river winds towards E.,
and the crew again take to towing, one leading the choir, and the
chorus repeating its usual “Ja Mohammet.” After eleven o’clock
we sail, however, again, and with the assistance of oars, E.S.E.; soon
S.S.E., and then W. by S., where we make five miles and a half. There
is an everlasting tacking about, and with it bawling, abusing,
and shouting. We turn, because we see the vessel a-head turning,
without system and without advantage, for this terrible careening,
with the tedious shifting of the sails every short distance, only
wastes time. Feizulla is squatting again with Selim Capitan, who is
not very delighted at his company. It is the devil to be shut up with
such simpletons in a cabin, to undertake journeys with Turks, and,
for my future recreation, to be obliged to converse with insipid
men, whose spite at not being able to say just what they like in
their journals, as they would do, were I not with the expedition,
I plainly see.

Twelve o’clock.—To south, six miles, and only too with the
mainsail. A fire extends before us, probably lighted reed-grass. This
stands close to us, being a height of twenty to thirty feet, and
in brown silky ears, whilst the grass and broad reeds are not so
far advanced. Unfortunately the river winds again E.S.E., and at
one o’clock libàhn to E. Sloughs and deep recesses of water are
close to the river, and run parallel with it.

Half-past one o’clock.—Fadl tells me from the mast, that the
large island before mentioned, turns out to be a peninsula. The other
arm of the stream approaches again our river, with the right shore,
but its water is lost against the ascending surface of its river
bed; however, it may at high water, have flowed over this, although
it is not shewn by any remarkable hollow. This arm is also choked
up above, though it has preserved the lower part of its bed. If we
only think of this large horizontal water-line, from the foot of the
island up to the damming up in our neighbourhood, we see plainly how
melancholy it must look at the fall of the White Stream. The right
side of the river is close to us, and the wood on the left, perhaps
containing here the old tract of the shore, is, as Fadl tells me,
nearly three hours’ journey off. He calculates distances correctly,
though always at something less than myself, for he has longer legs,
and is of the active race, who run in their journeys to water and
bread with as much _goût_, as we to the outstretched arms of an inn.

Where the river winds to S.E. a group of small ambak and grass
islands enter into the landscape; thousands of birds enliven a lake,
the two tributaries of which draw in to the east, and from the east
to south. I hear, however, from the mast, that they are neither
tributaries nor arms of the Nile, and soon come to an end. A trace
of a more extensive gohr or rain-river discharging itself here, and
now, perhaps, dried up, to which supposition we are led, at the first
glance, cannot be followed by the eye. These are, perhaps, indeed,
old arms of the Nile, now choked up and grown over; the sluggish
stream may not be able to cover them again, but overflows them at
high-water. Creepers and flowers fantastically entwined hang around
on the margin of the reeds, behind which the high ambak-trees stand,
also in flower.

Two o’clock.—S.E. wind, good and strong; but it forced us to
use the towing rope till half-past two o’clock, when we sail
from S. to S.S.W. Constant north winds, such as are blowing at
this moment in Khartùm, do not occur here at this time; however,
this everlasting change of wind is, at times, advantageous to us,
from the extremely varying course of the river. The wind falls—the
drum beats for libàhn, when the wind from N.E. allows us again to
stretch sail, in order to go to the south. This is, however, but a
short pleasure, and the rope is obliged to be had recourse to, when
we go, about half-past three, east by south; where, right and left,
is a village in the reeds.

Four o’clock.—From E. to W., S.E., S.S.E., and from S. to S.E.,
all in an hour, in nearly equal sections of time. At five o’clock,
a city on the left shore, but the smoke extending near it, does not
proceed from herds, but from the kindled reeds. At six o’clock, near
sunset, on the left shore lagoons and birds; five men are standing
close to them, but do not approach nearer. Towards the south of the
village we remark a lake, which receives its water from the river,
and is a broad, old river-bed, stretching from W. to E. The lower end
is choked up with slime and rises only a little above the present
level of the water. We halt, and the eastern horizon is illumined
with the visible flames of the reeds.

_28th December._—The bustle of departure awoke me before
day-break. No mist is to be seen, and even the ram’s skin of the
Turkish Gideon, Hüsseïn Aga, stretched out before the cabin, is
but slightly wet. He had remained with us the night, in order to
help Feïzulla Capitan (who even seeks to stimulate his thirst by
eating anchovies in rancid oil) to drink his wretched dram made from
dates. Gnats do not appear from without; the old guests from the reeds
were soon killed. With a gentle N.E. wind we steer towards S.S.W. Even
before sun-rise we see on the left a village of thirty-six tokuls,
on the slope of a hill. This has been formed, perhaps, by the hand
of man from the first dam thrown up. Judging from the houses still
falling to ruin, the clay walls of which remain, it may have ascended
to a height of twelve to fifteen feet. The river has full play here
in the free level field, yet its power of rooting up, through the
falls, is so little, that it is not able, with the want of sand,
to pile up Downs. The roofs of the tokuls run, indeed, to a point,
but their superficies is cut away into ring-formed layers, so as to
form steps. The roofs are elevated to an unusual height. The oval
doors look, as usual, towards different directions, for they serve
also as windows. One looks straight to the river, another up the
river, and the third wants to see what is taking place down below. I
have not seen any doors looking towards the country. The high water
seems here to have done mischief to the lower huts, as we see by
the make-shift ones which have been erected in all haste. Inland,
on the left shore, a village shews itself for a moment, through an
aperture in the high reeds.

I looked upon the rising sun with the blissful heart and kindly
humour that Nature, in her majesty, calls forth with irresistible
power. Dark brown clouds covered the place where he was to disclose
himself in all his glory. The all-powerful light of the world inflames
this layer of clouds; ruffled, like the billows of the ocean, they
become lighted up with an indescribable hue of blue Tyrian purple,
from which an internal living fire beams forth on every side. To
S.E. by E. a vessel dips its mast and sails into this flood of
gold. Filmy rays and flames of gold display themselves in the centre
of that deep blue curtain, the borders of which only are kindled with
luminous edging, whilst the core of the sun itself, within the most
confined limits, sparkles through the darkest part like a star never
to be looked upon. At last he rises, conquering all the atmospheric
obstacles of the vaporous earth; the latter stand like clear flakes
of gold, attending him on the right, whilst two strata of clouds,
embedded in each other, draw a long beautiful train to the north,
ever spreading and dissolving more and more. I write—I try once more
to embrace the mightiest picture of ethereal life, but the ship has,
in the mean time, turned, and the sails cover the sun, so as not to
weaken the first impression. There are moments, truly, when one is,
as it were, a god; but this god-like feeling lasts, in its entire
strength, only as long as the external impression, which the inmost
persuasion rather weakens than strengthens. Cheerfully, and with a
fresh heart, I settled myself there in a _vernùs_, on _my little_
bamber, before the cabin, to a soothing sleep, where dreamy pictures
of my home delighted me. I drank my coffee even before sun-rise,
(18° Reaumur,) and filled my pipe a second time, for tobacco also
has a great deal to do with beginning the day in good humour.

With a faint north wind we advance for some minutes N.E. by S. A
light mist, thrown over the horizon, rises high to the heavens, and
melts away. Neither land or tree is to be seen, for the village is an
island in the verdant sea, extending boldly in all shades of green,
and to an immeasurable distance. About seven o’clock N.E. by E.,
and in a bend to W. Wild geese fly here and there, but they scream,
and are therefore not roasted. Even I feel inclined for meat.

At 8 o’clock, three villages appear in the south. From N.N.W. we
turn a sharp angle to the south. The creepers form, from the shores
already deserted by the water, a beautiful rim of flowers down
and into the stream. We row and sail slowly round the before-named
corner, not to S., but to S.S.E., as the wind somewhat freshens;
immediately, however, S.W. by W. and a short tract S.E.; but, about
nine o’clock, to N. with Libàhn. The north-east wind has set in
with such strength, that we can drift along without sails for half an
hour in a south-westerly direction. At ten o’clock, to N.E. Libàhn;
and at half-past, to S. in a bend—God knows where—to W., and again
without sails. We make five miles, when the fore-sail is let out in
a slackened bow. To the right—still in the bend mentioned just now
to N.W., and in this direction we have a pretty long tract before us.

Happy are those who have time, or take time, to sleep, when they feel
inclined: I really must praise myself for holding out, from early
in the morning to late in the evening, sometimes aloft, sometimes
below, with such a continual scribbling of “on the right,” “on
the left,” and describing all kinds of winds and weather—which
is perfectly necessary, but may be as tedious to my future readers
as it is to myself. From N.W., with some trouble, Libàhn to E. At
twelve o’clock we sail gradually to S.E. and S., and make five
miles, although the river has one mile rapidity; but at half-past
twelve E. by S. and S.E., and at one o’clock again E. by S.;
at half-past one S.S.W.; a quarter of an hour later S.E. by S.

“_Bagher, Bagher-ketir!_” I hear murmured and shouted, and
every one runs upon deck. On the distant margin of reeds, several
cows were noticed. Suliman Kashef stood with his great telescope
on the top of his cabin, to discover the enemy, who were slightly
concealed. The crew were really like madmen; I was also very glad
because my wild-goose, which I had winged some days before, and
which Fadl drew out of the water, in spite of its diving, was now
out of all danger of being slaughtered, for it was to have been
_Communistically_ divided like a solid _ponderabile_. Fires burnt
in the distance, and reed-straw was already consumed, even behind
the broad reedy margin of the river, but, as everywhere else, too
early, for it was yet quite green; but the poor people want to rid
themselves of the gnats and other vermin, and therefore burn it away
directly it is combustible. We landed, therefore, soon afterwards,
at two o’clock. Allah had certainly sent us the cows, as the good
Muslims thought. We assembled on board Selim Capitan’s vessel, and
I was really eager to come into contact with the natives. A tolerably
intelligent Dinkaui was sent ashore as Tershomàn (interpreter),
where he shouted in the distance. Soon some people appeared; but the
Arab wolves rushed down from the vessel, and the natives fled for the
second time. Under threats of the bastinado, our men were recalled to
the ships. It was not long before ten bullocks, of beautiful form and
clear colour, and goats of a very fine breed, with compressed faces,
were driven near to us. Nearly all the latter were distinguished
by incisions, or recisions of one ear—not exactly announcing a
_communio bonorum_.

The inoffensive livid-coloured negroes accompanied the Tershomàn
on board the vessel where we were,—they were five in number,
two old men, and three young ones: they made gestures, in their
perplexedness, bending forward in the attitude of apes. I remarked
on the two old men short grey hairs in the ashes on their heads,
but there was not a single hair to be discovered on the bodies of
the young men. They were naked, and had leathern and iron rings on
their wrists, as well as adorned round their necks with rings made
of skins. With uplifted hands they greeted us humbly, and screeched
with a fearful voice, “Tebing conjegò,” which one sang, and then
“Tebing conjegorarèmemm” was repeated in chorus, and so often
that I was nearly stunned with the noise. The leader of the choir
was the son of Abù: and this word seems here to denote “elder of
a family,” or Sheikh. He was called Tshòli, and his village Dim;
he was therefore Tshòli-Dim, of the nation of the Keks. His son,
Gilowaï, was exceedingly delighted when he heard us pronounce his
name, and screamed it, as if he were mad, in our ears. The others
were called Rialkoï, Panjàil, and Ialkoï. Red calico shirts were
put on the father and son; but, owing to their uncommon height,
they did not entirely cover their nakedness. This naturally vexed
them but little, and perhaps, if it had been otherwise, it would
have incommoded them: they viewed the beautiful flowers on these
shirts, pointed with their fingers at them, and were very much
pleased. White shirts were put over the heads of the others; and
this was no little labour, although they were simply made according
to the Turkish cut; for these men moved their arms here and there,
and could not reconcile themselves to such splendour, which perhaps
was afterwards consumed in fire and smoke on the nearest ashes. But
when the glass beads were produced, then came the joy, the singing,
and shrieking without end; they uttered the resounding words with
which they praised us with as much force as if there had been the
most horrible strife. Looking-glasses at last were given to them;
and they could not at first distinguish their faces, owing to the
shadow; but when they found how to hold them at the proper distance,
they were always looking behind them to see where their black
brother might be. Yet the _possession_ of these shining toys was
dearer to them than the _use_ of them, or the pleasure of looking
at themselves for an hour long in the glass, as the Turks do. They
must take a similar delight, only in a greater degree, in looking
in the water; and therefore their astonishment was not so great:
they even asked what they were used for. Whereupon Suliman Kashef
took a glass in his hand and smoothed his beautiful beard by it:
they understood, and laughed. Their train of ideas was not guided,
indeed, by philosophical reflections at this sight, or they certainly
would not have laughed at our vanity, for they themselves, beyond
all people, are fond of empty toys, tatooing, and ornaments.

At sunset we set sail to S., and soon S.W. Level meadow-land: the
trees in the background, being thrown by mist into the distance, have
the appearance of a connected forest. I know from places seen before,
where it even appeared more thickly covered, that this deceptive
forest is without shade. The eye fancies that it discovers clouds
threatening rain in the sky—a vain longing for one drop of rain.

At the rainy season, according to the assertion of our blacks, the
rain falls here in indescribable streams, and a single drop (to use
an Arabic comparison) is as thick as a musket-ball. Subsequently
to these violent showers, innumerable shallow lakes may be found
in many places, swelling up, and at last pouring their water into
the Nile. The character of an emptied lake-basin is expressed
in the whole stream territory. We have already seen remains of
such shallow lakes, which may be in connection with others in the
interior. The hypothesis set up,—that of making the White Stream
spring from great lakes,—may therefore be partially confirmed by
this circumstance; although this cannot be extended to the _united_
Nile, for both rivers increase and fall at the same time. On the left,
the shore is raised a little above the water. To all appearance, it
was only overflowed for a short time at the season of the inundation,
for the vegetation is extremely scanty, and now dried up.




                              CHAPTER IX.

TURTLE-DOVES. — DESERTION OF BLACK SOLDIERS AND PURSUIT OF THEM. —
INTERVIEW WITH NATIVE WOMEN. — GIGANTIC STATURE OF THE KEKS. —
THEIR PASSION FOR GLASS BEADS. — FEIZULLA CAPITAN’S QUARREL WITH A
SUBALTERN OFFICER. — SYLVESTER’S EVE. — A “HAPPY NEW YEAR.”
— VILLAGE OF BONN. — WANT OF SHADE IN THE FORESTS. — CURIOUS
TATOOING AND CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES. — A WOMAN’S VILLAGE. —
MODESTY OF THE WOMEN. — MEAT BROTH. — REPORT OF HOSTILE INTENTIONS
OF NEGROES. — FRENCH EXPEDITION TO EGYPT UNDER NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.


29th December.—We sailed quite early this morning, scarcely
half an hour, when we found ourself at a place called by the Arabs
“Mattrag betal Mutfa,” or “Place of Cannons,” because, in
the former expedition, a cannon was lost here in the water. Here
we were to rest some days, in order to make immense astronomical
calculations, which may be, truly, a complicated labour for the
great “Ingenia.” A shooting excursion after the numerous birds
was much more pleasant. The left shore was here four feet high,
and I believe that the water of the Nile has only stood in the still
green and marshy low hollows which, like rivulets, run parallel to the
stream. What we looked upon at a distance as a forest (called Haba),
turns out to be misery itself for a German. In vain we seek shade
here, where the half dried-up trees, mostly dwarfs, always stand some
hundred paces from one another. Here also the long, thick-stalked
grass was burnt away, and a young grass, which otherwise would have
wanted air, now sprouted in plenty from the earth. The trees are, for
the most part, a species of mimosas, called talle. I had only gone
about on the shore a few paces, when I came to the full conviction
that there must be capital shooting here. I returned, therefore,
on board, but there was neither gun nor servant to be seen. They
had gone shooting, to spare me the trouble of exerting myself. One
after the other came back, and brought birds, but, whilst I was
looking at them, they were off again. I could not be angry, much as
I might have wished to be. Among the turtle-doves are found even the
Egyptian (Columba Ægypt), called gimri; but still more the larger
_gumri_ (C. risoria, Linn.; also C. collaris, Hemp and Ehrbg). The
turtle-doves with the long tail and black stomacher (C. caprensis),
seem not to present themselves here. A brownish eagle, with a white
head (Falco vocifer), a white and dark grey ibis (I. æthiop and
I. Hagedash); a crane, with black velvet crest and golden nimbus,
grue royale (Grus pavonius), appeared to be the chief among the birds
found here. The white birds sitting upon the backs of the elephants,
and fishing there on dry land, are small herons, and exactly similar
to the Ardea Coromandelica, with the exception of the yellow bill
and feet.

The vessels are washed out and cleansed; the bread-corn, which
had become somewhat damp, is brought out on hand; and we leave our
goods and chattels out of doors, relying on the good-natured Keks,
who have not hitherto shewn themselves armed. Towards evening I
went a tolerable distance to shoot, and had nearly lost my way in
returning; for in seeking the nearest road to the vessels, I fell
into the marshes. I had not one of my servants near me, because they
were occupied in preparing the birds. Scarcely had the sun set, when
a mist rose up around the great plain on which the reeds were burnt
away, but that magnificent luminary remained free from it; for the
ground here, being dried up by the fire, has no exhalations. Even
at a little distance, the trees appeared of a dark blue colour. On
the second morning, however, even the burnt place was wet, and my
feet were as black as coals, when I returned from it.

_30th December._—Abd-Elliab, the Kurd, had had the watch on shore,
except the night posts on the ship, whilst we were asleep, and sixteen
men from the Nuba, and the surrounding country, had deserted from
him. These unhappy creatures being so far from their home by water
as well as by land, with only a small stock of munition, must fall
sooner or later into the power of an enemy, and had, therefore, as
it were, surrendered themselves to death; for hunger, thirst, and
ignorance of the road, could only prepare for them a very deplorable
fate. An unbounded love for home could alone have induced them to
expose themselves to such jeopardy; and they instinctively hastened
to it, like a horse taken from the chase.

I had already been in the morning on a shooting expedition, but
was obliged to return, in order to clean my gun, which Sale, in
spite of my constant admonitions, only very carelessly attends to,
because he is always hoping that it will not miss fire. It was now
determined that the deserters should be pursued, and First Lieutenant
Hüssein Agà commanded on this occasion. In order to see something
of the country, I joined with two of my servants, though I wished
the blacks, who had only run away from slavery, a happy return to
their native country. Even Hüsseïn Agà, though a Turk, agreed
with me, for he did not wish to come upon them. The sun rose higher
and higher, and we left the Haba, affording us here and there for a
moment a shady tree. I determined not to expose myself any more to
this forced march, and to return; but Hüsseïn would not let me go
from him, because he must be answerable for my safety;—however,
he offered me half of his men as a protection on my road back,
which I refused, not believing that there was any danger. When the
ground permitted, I stayed behind with my huntsmen in a dry gohr,
and followed it upwards; whilst Hüsseïn, with his Egyptians, who
would have murdered without mercy the run-away soldiers, or rather
the slaves seeking again their freedom, was soon out of our sight
with his long legs.

We saw two villages, and repaired to the larger one to get water or
milk. There were no men to be seen, but they had left their wives
behind, who shewed themselves very friendly towards us. They were of
moderate stature, and two of pleasing physiognomy. This indeed was
not improved by the four lower incisors, and here and there another
tooth, being wanting, and also the hair of the head being kept quite
short. The circumstance of two upper incisors being wanting to the
first Kek, was only an accident, as I had already remarked in those
we had seen since. Their foreheads were tattoed by three strokes,
or rather incisions, rising horizontally from a vertical cut in the
middle of the forehead, and extending to the temples. They had also a
hole in their ear-laps, but neither a little stick nor anything else
in it. They wore iron rings around the hand, and skins covered their
hips. Some had a circle of the bark of trees round their heads. They
spoke confusedly, much, and in a loud tone, and might have related
many pretty things, of which, however, we understood nothing. One
passed her hand over my countenance, then looked at it, and wetting
her finger with her saliva, she tried my skin to see if it were
coloured. She fetched us black bread, of a somewhat sweetish taste;
also green tobacco, and gave us water in a gourd-shell.

I was surprised at not seeing either children or marriageable maidens;
but whilst the women were occupied with me, as with a white man
browned by the sun, Sale had discovered a tokul where the girls were
shut up together. It was with difficulty that I could keep him back
from opening the low door closed by split trunks of trees;—the women
recognised this conduct of mine very gratefully by their gestures and
dances. It appeared to me, moreover, unadvisable to awaken mistrust;
for they might only too easily have taken us for kidnappers; and the
men, who carried bows with poisoned arrows, were perhaps nearer than
we imagined, and might even have been concealed in the tokul.

I was sorry that I had, in my hurry, omitted to bring a glass bead or
two with me, in order that I might have made these good women quite
happy. The walls of the tokuls were low, and plastered with clay,
though the pointed roofs were, as usual, of straw. Skins were lying
on the ground, and gourd-shells and vessels of black clay standing
around, but there was neither merissa nor milk to be discovered in
them; and I must say, I laughed not a little, when Sale, who is so
devoted to merissa, put a gara to his mouth, in the greatest delight,
thinking he had found some. It was urine, which they are in the habit
of collecting from cows, and mixing with milk, as a drink, which I
learned subsequently from our blacks. This is considered wholesome,
as there is no salt here. A number of short stakes were driven into
the ground near the village, for the cattle to be fastened to; and the
women made us understand by signs that the beasts were a long distance
from here. An immense number of birds were perched around the pools;
amongst them also ducks and sand-pipers, but we could not get within
shot of them. The latitude 6° 34′, east longitude, from Paris
28° 32′. The thermometer in the morning 16°, and at noon, 25°.

The women must have reported well of our friendly intentions;
for when we returned to the vessels, we found there some natives,
who had probably washed the ashes from themselves, for they were
quite black. Very little notice was taken of them by the Turks,
because they had not brought with them any cattle. These people were
more like trees than men; I perceived with them also the artificial
wrinkles on the forehead, being the insignia of the nation of the
Keks, which I had overlooked in the former visitors, owing either
to the dirt or the ashes. At three o’clock the drum beat, and I
really thought that it was a joke; but it was not so, for it was
supposed that there was reason to believe all our negroes intended
to desert. We towed our vessels, therefore, further to the S.; for
Hüsseïn Aga had also returned with his fifty men without having
effected his object.

At four o’clock we had, on the left, a long village, the tokul
roofs of which were without under-walls. The right shore is elevated
here four to five feet above the height of the Nile, and has only
scanty grass, for the Nile appears not to have inundated it. A wood
at a distance, losing itself under the horizon, on the left shore;
the Haba close at hand, wherein I had shot yesterday, runs with
the river to the south. A faint east wind has set in, with which
we slowly sail S.S.E., and make one mile. Two lakes, of which the
former one is not inconsiderable, are in a line with each other
between the before-named Haba and the river; the forest, with a
margin of reeds before it, approaches then to the border of the river.

At five o’clock, to S.E. by E., where again there is a similar
half-finished summer or herdsman’s village. The hills of ashes,
from their being covered with the mud of the preceding year, and not
by the water, incline us to believe that the Nile has not ascended
above four feet; yet, behind this temporary settlement, the surface
of the earth seems to lie a little deeper, for we remark there a
green vegetation.

A vessel has sprung a leak; it is affirmed that this accident has
been caused by a hippopotamus. We halt, owing to this circumstance,
at half-past five o’clock, at the left shore. According to the
superstitious notions of the Reïs, hippopotami recognise us as the
dangerous enemy with the fiery claw, and therefore attack our ships
with their hard skulls; for it is quite certain that a Sheitàn is
concealed under their form. The surface of the earth rises here only
two feet above the river, and is a fertile slime soil. The Keks who
came this morning to the ships, return, and bring three goats and
one calf, for which some glass beads were presented to them. These
glass beads are called by the Keks and Iengähs, Gòd or Guòd;
by the Arabs, on the contrary, Sug-Sug; so, also, the two former
nations call the Nile “Kidi or Kiti.”

Several more Keks came, and amongst them two old men, dressed in
stiff cobblers’ aprons; these reached over the breast, and were
very well curried. Two of the men who were of gigantic stature,
like all the rest, might have been called really handsome; it was
only a pity that they were covered with a crust of ashes, even in
the orbits, and in every part where the perspiration had not found
its way through. They wore ornaments of feathers or skins, according
to their fancy, on their heads; earrings of red copper, strips of
leather round their necks, and iron rings, both on the right and on
the left arm. Owing to the short hair, we could see how the incisions
on the forehead, previously referred to, run above the ears, even
to the occiput. There were only some who had a longer tuft of hair.

It is wonderful that they do not quarrel and fight for the beads
thrown on the ground, as these ornaments are of higher value to them
than gold and jewels.

The sun had gone down for a long time, and the negroes had run home
as quickly as possible, to shew their wives, whom I had already seen,
their magnificent presents, when we sailed S.S.E. The village in
which I had been was called Pagnaù. We soon go to the S., where a
lake gleamed on the right. Towards E., we got aground in an arm of
the Nile, close by a peninsula; again go back, and in a short time,
from S. to N., and again in S. and N., and cast anchor in the middle
of the river.

_31st December._—In spite of the coolness, or rather warmth of
15° Reaumur, we are even plagued this morning with gnats. We go
N.N.W. If the river had for some days a decided southerly direction,
now I really do not know what will become of it. Where the shores
do not fall away precipitously, they are always covered with reeds;
and the frequent lagoons, although mostly dry and deeply split and
cracked, run close to the river, and may form beneficent conduits
in these level regions.

9 o’clock.—Always advancing with Libàhn, owing to which we have
scarcely made two miles and a quarter, for the rope gets continually
entangled in the reeds, and we cannot tow on this side the margin,
or but very seldom. The river winds here from E. to S.E. by E.,
to go again immediately to N., where a little village is seen on
the right shore. It is cold, and yet the thermometer shews 20° in
the cabin itself.

We halt because Feïzulla Capitan has given our Ombashi (subaltern
officer) a box on the ear, and the latter has complained to the
commander. This officer, our Abu Hashis, had laid aside for himself
a cow’s skin, which here, as well as in all Egypt, is a monopoly
of the Belik (government). Feïzulla Capitan had remarked this by
accident, and reproached him for it, which ended in a box on the
ears. The fact of the peculation was attested. The commander feared
the crew. The Egyptians, stung by gnats, were discontented with the
voyage itself, because they had again got into their heads the idea
of Njam-Njam, or cannibals. They were also afraid of a conspiracy
among our negroes, whom they still always call “Abit.” This is
the cause why attention was paid to the Egyptian subordinate. He was
quietly allowed to complain, and just as quietly to retire. Nothing
was said to Feïzulla Capitan, because the _Insbashi_, or captain of
the plaintiff, neglected to support his complaint; in vain, therefore,
had this officer caught hold very eagerly of the ship’s towing-rope,
when he jumped overboard after receiving the box on the ears. We must
not think that _esprit du corps_, or wounded honour, which seldom
or ever presents itself to the Fellahs, prompted him to this not
very dangerous jump, but the screamer thought that he must open his
mouth before the others. He was removed to his _Insbashi’s_ vessel.

My servants will not get accustomed, or attend only in a very
careless manner, to the shifting of my specimens of marsh plants,
which cannot be too frequently done in such a damp atmosphere. They
can understand stuffing (osluk) birds and other animals, for the
purpose of exhibiting them in Europe for money; but to preserve gesh
(grass), that is beyond their comprehension.—One o’clock. We
have come from the northern direction slowly again to S.S.W.,
sail at half-past one o’clock round a corner of the reeds S.W.,
and go at two o’clock E. with the rope. At three o’clock to S.,
with sails, and in five minutes again Libàhn towards E. Our course
became, by this eternal change, almost reduced to nothing; had it
been otherwise, we might have made a good tract with the east wind.

It occurred to me that it was Sylvester’s day, and I brought
before my wretched mind the different Sylvester nights; how I had
sometimes passed them joyfully, sometimes melancholy or quietly,
ever according to the circumstances and situations in which I was
placed at the time. I shouted to Thibaut, who was just passing by me,
that it was Sylvester’s day, that we ought to keep the anniversary
of our honest patron as a festival, and invited him to my vessel. He
was afraid, however, of Feïzulla, who, reclined upon his carpet on
deck, resting from his tailoring, and had one Fingàn (small cup) of
date brandy after another handed to him, as if he wanted to solemnise
Sylvester’s evening in his own way. I went down, therefore, to
Thibaut; we drank maraschino and grog, having a coal-dish between
us, over the fire of which we laid green brushwood, to protect us,
in some measure, against the impudent gnats. We related anecdotes
of our previous journeys in Greece, and how we, being then young,
looked at the world with perfectly different eyes, and had now
become old fellows, whose highest destiny would be to get an old
maid or widow for a wife, on our return to our native country,
and how we had lost the _so-called_ happiness when it was thrown in
our way. The usual Jeremiads of incipient old bachelors. After four
o’clock we sailed S.W., and then generally more to the S.

It was eight o’clock when I summoned my _Dahabie_ to come close,
but as if the devil had seized the helm, it went at the very same
moment bang against the vessel in which the Frenchmen were; a fearful
row and mutual abuse then took place, especially as all the vessels
were thrown together by wind and the current, into the corner where
the river makes a sudden bend from S. to S.W. It was only with much
trouble that we worked ourselves loose with oars, poles, and sails,
to stop about N.W. with the north-east wind. At sunset we cast anchor,
north latitude 6° 52′, east longitude from Paris 28° 33′.

_1st January_, 1841.—Welcome new year! Oh ye beautiful past
times! Dance and the girls—Wine and friends.—I could not
sleep; the sentinels sang, and told stories of spirits, snakes,
and unbelievers, accompanied by abuse of the gnats. I thought of
my brother in Taka, who at the present moment did not even know it
was Sylvester’s evening, for there we had lost the computation
of time, both having different dates in our journals. This was
also the case with the Italian physician, Dr. Bellotti, who took
the greatest delight however in the new moon, because the arrears
of his salary increased with it. It occurred to me that my brother
and I, when we had nearly lost our memory, after a severe illness,
had even contended about the date of the year. Midnight had long
passed, and I was just on the point of falling asleep, when Thibaut,
who had continued his libations in honour of St. Sylvester, shouted
out a “Happy New Year to you!”

We sailed from sun-rise to seven o’clock, in a southern direction,
with a faint north-east wind. We halt on the left side of that
large island, near which Selim Capitan returned the evening before
yesterday, to navigate the left instead of the right arm. Here,
on the right shore, our stream takes up in S.S.E. by E., a
small, but strongly-flowing river, or an arm of the Nile; in the
latter signification it is called, without any further ceremony,
a gohr. Ash-grey negroes come to the shore and bring us some
cattle. Both their chiefs or Sheiks are called Arwor and Albisùg:
their neighbouring village bears, to my astonishment, the name of
Bonn. We presented them with glass beads, and threw some on the ground
for the others, without their quarrelling or fighting for them. The
stream we traverse is called by them Kir, and the arm before mentioned
Muts; the former is said to be very circuitous. A little before ten
o’clock we sail with a good north-east wind to S.E., and immediately
to S. As we see here, the arm of the Nile comes from the east.

Our high road has scarcely thirty paces breadth for a short tract,
because the giant rushes and the everlasting blooming ambaks
advance deeply in the water from the left shore. At half-past ten
o’clock in a bend to S.S.W., then S.S.E., and S.S.W. The shores
are only two feet high on the left hand, and therefore the burning
away of the half-dried reeds is of no consequence. Still, before
eleven o’clock, round a corner to E.S.E., where we perceive,
on the right shore towards E., a large lake at half an hour’s
distance, whilst we sail to S.S.W. Both shores are here scarcely
elevated one foot above the river, which again is more than three
hundred paces broad. There lies yonder a herdsman’s village;
the natives step to the right shore, but run away, however, when
we begin to beat the drum; yet they approached soon afterwards,
and without weapons. Each had adorned himself according to his
fancy, with feathers or the skin of a wild beast. I have remarked
also that all these inhabitants of the marshes have very bad teeth,
notwithstanding their otherwise personal advantages. They came on
the left shore with a cow, but we did not think it worth the trouble
to accept such an insignificant sacrifice. Only a gun-shot distance
to the N., then again to S.E. and S.

One o’clock. I had fallen asleep, wearied out, and Feïzulla told
me that he had watched the compass during the time I slept, and that
we had remained to this moment in a southerly direction. Towards
S.E. a large lake, extending between the shore and a wood an hour
distant. Fishermen from a village in the neighbourhood are employed in
making the water disturbed in its narrow outlets, and covering these
with wicker and fishing-baskets. At half-past one o’clock, E.N.E.,
where another village appears on the right shore; then E. up to four
o’clock, and with the rope, for the east wind has set in. This
wind is, however, too faint to advance with sails S.W. Even rowing
does not assist us, and we at first advance Libàhn.

I interpret it as a good omen that I am in such a cheerful humour
to-day, arising a good deal from my present state of health. Poor
Sabatier, on the contrary, seems to be going fast to certain death,
through his own melancholy and Arnaud’s heartlessness, for he is
continually affected with fever and will never hear of any diet. At
half-past four o’clock, S.S.W. Our vessel draws water, whereupon we
fire two shots as signals of distress; but no care was taken about us,
because the wind had become a little stronger, and we make about a
mile; before, we had scarcely made half a mile in the hour. We sail,
therefore, “Alla kerim,” behind the others, although the water
visibly rises in the hold, and we have not even pumps. We halt, about
five o’clock, at the corner, where the river goes from S.S.W. to
E.N.E. Here we have an extensive view of the scenery, an immeasurably
flat country, with yellow grass, which seems to have been merely
overflowed a little by the water, although the shores are only two
feet high. Numberless ant-hills stand around. In the background we
remark a forest without shade. A German prince said to Ahmed Basha
in Kahira, “I have found forests here, but no _shade_ in them.”

Two negroes greet and make signs to us, but in vain, for they do not
bring oxen, and we have already to-day distrained ten. At half-past
five o’clock we left this place, and sailed E.N.E. into a canal,
scarcely fifty paces broad, having on the right an ambak-thicket,
with a fore-ground of aquatic grass, and on the left a margin
of reeds. This last is said to belong to an island, but we do not
observe there either tree or shrub. After sunset, from E. to S.; then
again eastward, and lastly S.S.W. The wind again becomes very slack;
therefore rowing and singing, contention and strife, among the crew,
who get one before the other. A short bend to N., but a bad sandy
point of land for oars and poles. The wind blows from S.W., and
we sail E. by S., and still somewhat N.E., when it again slackens,
and we are obliged to torment ourselves in an E.N.E. direction.

We come here unexpectedly upon _four rivers_, according to the
expression of the Arabs. The Nile separates into two arms, into
those in which we had come, and in those which we had left to N.W.,
and afterwards at our back; again it splits into two arms above, of
which the smaller one ascends upwards to E. and our arm to E.N.E. The
island, the lower portion of which we saw this morning at seven
o’clock, is therefore confirmed by the arm flowing away to N.W.

Baùda! Baùda! Everyone is fanning and striking off the gnats,
especially in Suliman Kashef’s vessel, where the crew have armed
themselves with the corollas of the giant rushes, to be used as
fans. The east wind is faint, the sky cloudy, and always Libàhn to
N.E. till nine o’clock. A floating island wheeled our ship round,
anchor and all; this also frequently happens at night. Thermometer
18°, 25°, 28°, and 23° Reaumur.

_2nd January._—Selim Capitan now asserts that he navigated,
in the first expedition, this arm of the Nile in which we are at
present. That arm, from which, three days ago, we returned at night,
would be, according to this statement, a tributary, or an arm, ending
when the water falls in a cul-de-sac. But where is now the Muts,
which was pointed out to us as a nearer Nile arm, and the beginning
of which ought to have shewn itself?—for we saw already the mouth
of it yesterday morning near the village of Bonn. At ten o’clock
we go, by the rope, to E. by S.

On the right, to the west, we remark an arm of the Nile, which can
be no other than the commencement of the little one seen yesterday
evening, pouring itself yonder from the east, when we were going
E.N.E. It is a wonder that the Nile does not divide into far more arms
in these level regions; although it may be presumed with certainty
that many gohrs are lost in the reeds, or slink again to the river,
without being visible by us. The stream goes from here S.E. and E.,
and we halt S.E. on the right shore. The river appears again to
separate in front of us.

I cannot help laughing when I hear the Reïs say to the lazy
sailors, “Are you Muslems or Christians?” in order to tickle
their sense of honour. Yet Nazrani is more a contemptuous expression
for the Christian Rajahs than for Europeans, who are called Franks;
although they abuse Arnaud and his vessel, by way of pre-eminence,
with the title of “Nazrani,” because his conduct towards the men
is very forbidding. From one to five o’clock in continued serpentine
movements between S. and E. At half-past five o’clock, some minutes
S.W. by S., and then again in an easterly direction. Throughout
the day I was hot, languid, and sleepy, which I looked upon as
the forebodings of fever, to which my three servants had already
succumbed. Now I dread the night, and an incessant yawning gives me
no sweet foretaste of the future.

We work over the shallows from W. by S. to E.N.E., and sail lastly,
after sunset, at half-past six o’clock, slowly in a bend to E.S.E.,
and immediately W.N.W., and in eight minutes S.S.E. We tried, by
using oars, poles, and sails, to get to N.E., and then halted. Here
we saw to the N.E. an arm of the Nile flowing to S., the mouth
of which we ought to have seen yesterday, and it may therefore
probably be the Muts. Subsequently, when all had gone to sleep,
a violent habùb threw the ship on shore; but the wind soon veered
to our advantage. Thermometer 18°, 26°, to 28°, and 25°.

_3rd. January_—This morning a thick mist, and the hygrometer
92°. In the early part, towing to E.S.E. We sail at eight o’clock
with a still changeable north wind to S.S.E., and about nine o’clock
to S. Here, on the right low shore, where stands some scanty grass,
flows a small canal to the left into the plain to the N.E., and leads
probably to a shallow lake or a low ground, discharging its water
in this way. The negroes, who appear to me to be generally vigorous
Icthyophagists, have established a fishing weir here at the entrance
of this outlet. It consists of a double row of strong stakes, having
between them a deep hole and two openings to let in the fish. We see
by the fresh earth thrown up, that this canal is cleaned out. Probably
the natives take the fish retreating with the water subsiding, and
emptying itself into the Nile, in these passes formed with stakes,
by means of baskets, and the larger ones by harpoons. No tree,
and scarcely any ambaks in the shape of green hills, are seen.

Ten o’clock. On the left, a little village, with seven well-built
tokuls, the indented roofs of which are, however, tolerably flat,
and on the whole are low. Close by, a large herdsman’s or pastoral
village: the huts are built slightly enough, for they are only
inhabited during grazing-time. Some negroes jump and sing; other
men of ashes bring a cow and a few goats. The people here appear
stronger and more muscular than these high shot-up marsh plants
were in other places, and are on an average six Parisian feet[7]
and upwards in height. Their sheikh or chief was called Tchinkah,
and his village Kuronjah. A piece of white cotton stuff was given
him to cover, at least, the nakedness of his shoulders, and some
beads. Several negroes presented themselves, and they all now wanted
“god” (glass beads). The teeth of the natives are very bad: this
is generally the case in fenny countries; and we see it, for example,
in Holland, where the women have not only bad teeth, but also very
frequently swollen joints. They quarrel here for the beads thrown to
them, but without fighting. Though such ornaments may soon lose the
charm of novelty, yet they may lay the foundation of future discord,
and cause homicide and murder. We saw some strings of blue glass beads
on the chief, looking like broken maccaroni, and of which we also had
brought a good supply. We could not learn from what country this glass
ornament—_Vermiglio_ or _conteri di Venezia_—had come to them;
it was a proof, however, that communications take place between these
inner African nations. The beads were very much worn and ground away,
and therefore probably an old inheritance of the tribe.

They wear only a single tuft of hair: it is sometimes long, and
sometimes short, so that they may shew the distinguishing mark of
their race—the incisions running from the forehead in three strokes
around the head. Yet there were some who wore their entire hair,
which is no more to be called woolly than that of the Arabs in the
land of Sudàn. Every one had adorned his head according to his own
taste. Many were bedecked with a short ostrich-feather, others with
a thong of pelt, or with a wooden ring, and one was covered all over
with small burrs. This was that dreadful little burr that used to
stick to our stockings and wide Turkish trowsers in Taka, and drew
together the latter into the most singular folds. Its hook-formed
point or prickle was only extracted from linen with the greatest
trouble. Another wore a felt cap upon which was a tassel, as if he
had taken a Turkish cap for his model.

Tattooing is called by these Keks _garo-ungè_: they wear slips of
leather round their necks, hands, and also frequently round the
hips, and rings of ivory and iron, varying in number, round the
arm. If we ask them whence the iron comes, they answer, “From the
mountain,” and point to the south. The iron rings are of various
forms, furnished at the joints with small bells—that is, with a
small hole, in which grains are placed to make a rattling noise;
or even with small spikes, in order not to be seized so easily
by the enemy. Their points were covered with little wooden heads,
to prevent injury to the wearer. The bracelets were also adorned in
another manner, or were quite simple, as those on the upper part of
the arm,—some narrow, and others broad. They open in one place,
so as to pass over the hand; but are so exactly joined together,
that the opening is scarcely to be perceived: thus proving the
elasticity of iron in good workmanship. Some wore a shoemakers’ or
sadlers’ apron, serving to ward off darts rather than as a covering,
for they all, in other respects, go naked. The women have a similar
apron around the lower part of their body, as I also saw in the
village of Pagnaù; and excepting this leathern apron, they have
no other attire. The lower part of the back was generally tattooed
in many rows by vertical incisions. The Dinkas appear to have a
particular dexterity and perseverance in this kind of basso-relievo;
for we see the female slaves in Khartùm having their whole thorax
covered with such incisions, and even in the form of festoons of
leaves—a kind of toilet that might not be very pleasant to the
tender skin of our coquettish ladies. We saw also some earrings of
red copper, and there was always a hole for these in the ear; often
also many holes in the rim of the ear for future trinkets, a small
stick being placed in them to prevent them closing. These negroes
cross and throw their legs under them in all directions; so that,
compared with them, Orientals and tailors are only bunglers. They
have generally a flexibility in their limbs, which would not be
supposed from the manner in which they tread the ground.

We had made the good Ethiopians comprehend that a few more oxen would
be welcome to us; but about eleven o’clock a favourable east wind
set in, promising to become still better. We sail to S.S.W.; but in
the space of ten minutes put to land again, so that we might not
leave in the lurch the promised morsels, costing only a few glass
beads. But the people did not shew themselves again; and just as
the sails were bent to proceed on our voyage, the wind also veered,
and blew from S.E.: therefore libàhn. The hygrometer had at ten
o’clock still 58°, whilst this morning it was even 92°. Twelve
o’clock.—E.N.E., and soon E.; where, on the left, a lake is seen,
about an hour and a half long.

After an hour’s progress, we are towed S.S.E. again, and it seems
that we shall follow this direction further. I cannot keep my eyes
open, and go to sleep, with orders to wake me at the first bend in
the river. At three o’clock from S.E. to E.S.E. Towards S.E. by
S. the river makes a bend, and a village extends yonder on the
right shore, which brought to my recollection Bonn on the Rhine,
as seen from the so-called Obtuse Tower, although neither towers
nor high buildings are to be seen there. Close to us, on the left
side, we observe a large and long lake, retreating with the river
in a parallel direction for about two hours and a half. I had not
previously remarked it, owing to the reeds rising so high, for I had
now no servant in sufficiently good health to keep a look-out from
the mast. Judging from the green reeds, it appears to be connected
with the river. At half-past three o’clock we go N.N.E., and at
half an hour’s distance over the right shore, a little lake and
a village are to be seen. The boundary of the old shore, properly
speaking, is not visible from the deck, but a sailor tells me from
the mast that trees, three or four hours’ distant, are standing
there, up to which all is green. The Haba, or the old shore, runs
at the left side of the river, in the direction of the great lake,
about one hour distant from us, and approaches near to us, according
to appearances, behind the before-named large village, which may be
called here a city.

We soon come to a gohr, or canal, apparently feeding the little
lake. The current along the shore itself is frequently more unequal in
strength than in the centre of the river, owing to such flowings off,
and on account of the great depth of three to five fathoms, which is
often found directly close to the margin of the new shore, against
which the mass of waters is thrown. But notwithstanding this striking
disadvantage, we prefer to remain close to the shore, where the crew
are obliged to work till they are half dead to gain ground only a
little. At five o’clock we come nearer to the great village. My
Bonn, with the green of its _vinea Domini_, and its old custom-house,
is turned here into high reeds; its university into tokuls concealed
behind them; and its houses into reed huts of various sorts. It was
only the position and the winding of the stream itself that could
awaken this dear remembrance, with a whole host of half-extinguished
pictures; and the more so because we had already seen an Ethiopian
Bonn, the bare name of which had excited my imagination.

On all sides the cattle turn to the smoking pastoral city. I hear
and see that the village of the women is always separated from that
of the men; that the latter possess only the temporary huts, and the
former regular tokuls,—the last being only common to both sexes at
the rainy season. We pass slowly by, whilst I stand on the deck and
write. This Harim village looks, on the whole, very well: the tokuls,
indeed, are low, but well built, and, as I have remarked already, the
straw upon the roof is laid round in five or six layers, giving it the
same number of stories, without having a steep slope. The old women
were the first to gratify their curiosity: they dance and jump before
their houses, sing bold songs, and beat their breasts up and down, so
that it is horrible to see and hear them. Children and maidens appear
to be locked up from fear of the “Children of Heaven;” for it was
asserted that the white soldiers in the former expedition were looked
upon by the negroes of this country as “Children of Heaven.” I
scarcely believe that such a compliment was paid to them, for I saw a
black soldier pointing to two Egyptians as having come from Heaven;
whereupon the blacks put on a silly laughing countenance, and went
away, as much as to say, “Children of Heaven ought to fly lightly,
like birds, and not crawl heavily on the earth, and draw ships.”

A natural pond was connected by a canal with the river, and closed
by a fishing weir of palisadoes. Lumps of earth lay piled up on one
another, like pyramids of cannon-balls. They take, perhaps, the slime
from the canal with their hands, to plaster round the walls of their
tokuls, and also to clean the canal. Even the old women here were
ash-grey; therefore it seems as if they make fires in their tokuls,
and their beds on the ashes.

The city of these Amazons, numbering forty-two tokuls in a line
along the river, was immediately followed, however, by the city,
or a village, of the men. These summer huts have partly the form
of tokuls, with only slightly elevated pointed roofs; partly they
were huts with a mere covering, as a protection against the weather,
and frequently so small that they could only be built for the young
cattle. The hills of ashes, the real places of rest for the night,
were surrounded with a wall of reeds on one side, to shelter them
from the wind. The huts might be here about two hundred in number;
near them on every side rose the smoke of small piles of dung: close
at hand, the stakes stood, to which the oxen were fastened in the
evening. The horned cattle, and even the little goats, go cheerfully
to the smoke, because they know they are protected there from gnats.

The men here behave very quietly, and do not seem to have known that
they would meet us when driving home their cattle. As they do not
come to us, we go ashore to them. The sheikh of this tribe visits us
in quite a friendly manner; he is invested by us with a red shirt,
and with a gay-coloured pocket-handkerchief round his head, as
well as strings of beads round his neck. In vain Thibaut and I gave
ourselves the trouble of trying to learn, with the assistance of our
stupid interpreters, something from these Keks; for they appear to
be unwilling to mention names, as if evil might happen to the person
whom it concerns.

The village is called Min, Mim, Mièmn, ever according to the
different pronunciation of the people, and, as Selim Capitan
afterwards asserted, “Bakak.”

This nation of the Keks, or Kièks, appears, on the whole, to be
numerous, and has a great sheikh, or king, by the name of Ajol. His
city lies on the left side of the river, far from hence, near a
stream, and is called Gog. Polygamy prevails here, as generally on the
White Stream; only, however, the more opulent enjoy this privilege,
for the women are bought. I remarked here, for the first time, bodily
defects, which, like elephantiasis, are so very rare in the whole
land of Sudàn. One had hernia, and many suffered from diseases of
the eyes, and wanted medical assistance. Their eyes, indeed, were
nearly all suffused with red, as I had previously remarked; and it
seems that these people must suffer uncommonly in the rainy season,
when they lie, as it were, in the morass. The hair of some of them,
who wore it long, was of a reddish colour, having lost its natural
black hue by the ley of the ashes and water, and heat of the sun; for
we did not perceive this in the shorter hairs, and they did not know
how to explain the cause of this tinge. The cattle are generally of
a light colour, of moderate size, and have long beautifully-twisted
horns, some of which are turned backwards. The bulls have large
speckled humps, such as are seen in the hieroglyphics; the cows, on
the contrary, only a little elevation on the shoulders. The small
reed tokuls, with half-flat roofs, are neat, and serve throughout
the day for protection against the sun. I wandered about here quite
alone, without being molested or sent back by the people, although
the whole crew on board believed, and our blacks agreed with them,
that men and women live separate the greatest part of the year, and
that man durst not enter into such a Harìm-village out of season. I
must, however, differ in some measure with respect to this assertion;
for I saw in some little tokuls of the male village, young women
and children, crawling about upon the extended skins on the ground.

[Illustration: MOUNT NERKONJIN, 22nd JANUARY, 1842.]

A young woman was so enraptured at the sight of my glass beads, that
she wanted to sell me her child, which she carried in a skin under
her left arm, as if in a bag. I do not think that I am mistaken with
regard to this offer, although one ought not to be confident that the
daughter of a harmless nation like the Keks would do so. Perhaps she
was a prisoner, which might be the case here generally, and that these
women are watched by the men. It is always possible too, that the men
take their favourite wives with them for comfort’s sake, and leave
the others at home, or put them in some kind of bodily restraint.

A very large and broad sürtuk caught my eye, and I was curious to
find out the species of wood of which it was built, but the bulls
standing close to each other there, pointed their horns at me. Two
natives sprang nimbly to them, in order to quiet them; whereupon
I went off as quickly as possible,—and the more so, because last
year a soldier had been gored to death. A village bull towered above
all of them; his high horns were adorned with two animals’ tails;
he had also ornaments around his neck. I was not able, however, to
examine these ornaments very closely, for he rushed too quickly into
the herd, that he might, like all the other beasts, stick his nose as
quickly as possible into the smoke. This is a ludicrous sight: every
beast appears to know exactly his heap, or rather his neighbourhood,
else an uncommon confusion would take place, for they have their
stakes quite close to one another. In the morning this encampment,
on which no straw is strewed, is carefully cleansed of the dirt,
which is thrown in small heaps near the stakes, and kindled in the
evening, shortly before the cows come home, where it continues to
glimmer till towards morning.

Though the natives had hitherto let me quietly walk about, because the
general attention was directed to the vessels, and the distribution
of beads, now I heard from the men on all sides a peculiar buzzing
sound, similar to the bleating of sheep. The sound can only be
denoted by “Eh;” it is a natural tone of disapprobation, and was
sufficiently intelligible to me. The men had concealed their arrows
and spears, for they were told that they must not come with them. If
the women go also freely among the men, without taking notice of the
nakedness of the latter, yet there appears in them a certain innate
degree of modesty, as I saw myself in the maidens, who are quite
naked, whilst the married women wear a leathern apron. An aproned
woman had crept out of a tokul with her child, to see the other
strangers at a distance, when a girl, with swelling breasts, also
hastily followed her out of the oval hole, and stood on tip-toe to
see better. Scarcely had the naked maid remarked me close at hand,
than she quickly seized a stiff piece of leather lying there, and
covered herself with it. Other girls, already a good height, but
still without breasts, were between the cows and goats, and concerned
themselves more about the young of these animals than about us. I
found also here, in the tokuls, large gourd-shells filled with urine,
which, as mentioned before, is said to supply the place of salt.

Amongst other huts, I here saw two built of bamin stalks, twenty feet
high, placed conically upon the ground, joined together at the top in
such a manner that they formed a draft of air as well as a chimney. It
was quite cool inside, for the entrance also nearly reached to the
top, and formed a triangle. They offered us milk and butter, but as
both are seasoned with the water previously named, instead of salt,
the crew refused them with contempt. We got, however, fresh milk,
and I charged my servants, who laughed at the Egyptian braggarts, to
take butter with them: it left very little twang when cooked, whilst
the milk of the morning tasted of smoke, and of that dirty mixture.

Richly provided with meat, we took advantage of the east wind just
freshening up, and sailed, after sunset, to S. by E., but this lasted
only a moment, and we went from S.E. to N., when we were obliged
to take to our oars; then to N.W. and S.E. A smoking herdsman’s
village was noticed to E. by S. as also just after our setting
out. Reckoning from the horizontal layers of smoke, the country must
have been tolerably populated, even at some distance from the river,
which is here about four hundred paces broad. The smoke produced for
the cattle has no unpleasant smell; on the contrary, that from the
burnt reeds, has the smell of our thick yellowish fogs; and, if I
am not mistaken, I have met with such a fog in the Nubian deserts,
or perhaps in Egypt. The hygrometer shewed this afternoon, at four
o’clock, 65°; and I hear that Arnaud has had it in his hands,
and has made himself master of it, in order to profit by it _alone_.

_4th January._—The vessels remained during the night towards
E.S.E. According to my usual custom, I breathed the fresh morning
air at the open window: but I flew from the room where gnats and
the besotted Feïzulla-Capitan had robbed me of my sleep, as soon
as day shewed itself through the red tinge of morning. I see at my
right hand a lake, and hear from the mast that the same extends on
the right to S. for half an hour, and is, from S.E. by E. to W.,
three-quarters of an hour long; that another joins to it towards N.,
cut off from the Nile by dry slime. We remarked also a third little
lake, a quarter of an hour distant, behind the before-named city. The
green grass ceases before us; on the right is noticed a wood behind
the lake, and on the left some trees of the right shore,—always a
friendly appearance to me in the landscape. We advance by the rope
at ten o’clock S.E. by E., and then on the right to S. At eleven
o’clock we move towards the left side of the river to gain better
ground for towing, although the east wind had become stronger, and
we could see before us the continuation of our course. The wind is
now always driving the vessels on the reeds, and the people tow only
with the greatest difficulty, the poles being continually used to
prevent us from running aground. At noon, to S. The south-east wind
blows so violently against us, that we hardly advance beyond the lake,
near which is a little village. We still see the herdsmen’s city,
at which we stayed yesterday. The lake, as is mostly the case here,
fills up the angle of the earth formed by the Nile in its present
circuit, and therefore cut off formerly by it in a straight line,
and perhaps is so now at high water. The main stream then makes good
its old right, on account of its greater fall, without tearing up
from their foundations the choked-up passes to the lakes; for these
old river-beds form, by means of that root-work of marsh plants,
a natural cofferdam, which is no more to be subdued.

To the east, we see on the right shore mists of smoke creeping over
the ground like Cain’s sacrifice, for they cannot rise out of the
vaporous atmosphere. There is also there a village, pushed back,
as it were, by the reeds struggling forward, and somewhat elevated
above the marsh region. The crew are very tired, and we halt above
the lake till three o’clock.

A small hamlet lies in our neighbourhood, and I see again cattle
dragged near to us. Now, at last, we shall have enough meat. Large
garlands of meat, cut in narrow strips, are passed already from one
rope to another, to be completely dried in the sun, according to the
usual custom in the Land of Sudàn. It is afterwards rubbed small on
the murhaka, and with the ground uèka, used for a favourite broth,
to be poured over the hard meal-pap (Asside), or over pancakes. This
abundance of meat must be followed by injurious consequences even to
these Saturnian stomachs, for the crew generally are not accustomed
to it.

I have again that lethargy, threatening, like the day before
yesterday, to turn to fever,—a thing that makes me the more uneasy,
because the Febris tertiana is not only very tenacious, but is also
here fatal. Last night I was delirious, fell asleep late, and awoke
at the moment of departure; the sun, just getting up, fell like
an enormous torch on my face, when I unwittingly threw back the
cloak with which I had covered it, on account of the gnats. At the
noise of the sailors and soldiers, I fancied that all was on fire,
and thought for a moment of the powder-room under me, without being
able, however, to rise.

At four o’clock we went E. by S., and I saw that the river wound
more southerly before us, so that we did not advance, and heard
that we must wait for the ships remaining behind, and lay to at the
left shore. I had the fever till about sunset, but not in a violent
degree. From my window I perceived, close to me, a large lake, over
which the setting sun hung like a ball of blood. I raised myself
up slowly on my legs, and really did not stand so weakly on them
as I had imagined when lying; but the perspiration was not by any
means subdued. I hoped, however, to recover this afterwards, and
had myself carried ashore. This setting foot upon land exercised
a peculiar influence, as after a tedious voyage. The main point in
these countries is not to lose courage, but to drag about one’s
sickly body so long as it can go; to stumble, fall, rise up
again,—anything, only not to remain lying in bed in fearful despair.

The dark margin of the Haba extended in a half circle between
the setting sun and the water, from N.W. to S.E., like a faithful
though somewhat distant attendant of the stream sunk down by his
Neptunian majesty. The lake, which runs parallel with the river,
and appears to have its greatest extension from S.S.E. to N.N.W.,
and is only divided from it by a narrow dam, four feet and a half
high. The tree-islands in this lake, the foundation and the ground
of which were concealed by the water, increase the picturesque and
heartstirring impression by their dark shade and play of colours
contrasting with the lake, glowing as if with fire! The landscape
towards the west is very much confined by the semicircular margin of
wood around the wide bay. An endless number of morass-birds swim or
stand around on the shallow spots, and find here the richest prey;
therefore, comparatively few birds are seen on the shores of the
Nile, which is here called “Kiati,” which is only a deviation
from Kidi or Kiti, as it was hitherto called. It became dark about
seven o’clock, and we went on S.E. Shortly before this bend, there
is on the left a village;—and now once more a pastoral hamlet,
near which runs a gohr of little breadth to N.E., probably connected
with the lake seen yonder on the right shore.

We also notice a village wherein Icthyophagi may dwell, for we
perceive no smoke from herds near it. We cast anchor, according
to our custom, in the middle of the river, to be more secure from
a surprise of these numerous free negroes; for our sentinels, in
spite of the bastinado, creep into their cowls and sleep, that they
may hear and see nothing of the swarms of gnats. We are now the more
upon our guard, because we have heard from these Keks that a nation
dwelling up the Nile, behind the Elliàbs, and who are said to exceed
the Shilluks in population, declared, after the former expedition,
that they would rather die with their powerful king than permit us
to pass. This intelligence made a very sensible impression upon the
Turks and Franks. Suliman Kashef, on the contrary, wishes only to see
this heroic king at a distance, and looks, with a smile, at his long
gun. As I know his disposition, and must fear precipitate violence
on our side, I try to make him understand that that king, if he is
determined to die, may first send at us an arrow or a spear. If they
will be our enemies and take to force, well and good. Even though
our soldiers may shoot badly, yet fifty negroes must fall at every
volley, for the vessels are our bulwarks, and they will come blindly
to the attack.

Suliman Kashef also quoted passages from the Koràn. At these
quotations, by which the commonest Turk feels himself authorised to
aspire to be a sultan, there came to my remembrance the beautiful
admonitory discourses which the French left to the brutal people,
during their glorious presence in Egypt. These began with passages
from the Koràn, in the Arabic, Turkish, and Persian languages,
and also in the French, thus: “Au nom de Dieu, clément,
miséricordieux, et très saint maître du monde, il fait de sa
propriété ce que lui plaît, et dispense à son gré de la
victoire.” Then, “que les armes ne servent à rien contre
la volonté de Dieu. Egyptiens, soumettez-vous à ses décrets,
obéïssez à ses commandemens, et reconnaissez que le monde est sa
propriété, et qu’il le donne à qui il lui plaît.” Or “tous
les biens viennent de Dieu; il accorde la victoire à qui il lui
plaît, &c.” They end generally in this manner, “Que le salut et
la miséricorde divine soient sur vous!” We laugh because they come
out of the mouth of a Frenchman, with whom, at that time the Lord
God was as good as deposed; but in the country itself we comprehend
the deep policy of these phrases. Wonder and astonishment seize the
traveller who recollects the Egyptian expedition, when he reads the
inscription of the conquering heroes on the island of Philæ.




                              CHAPTER X.

SHEIKH DIM. — CLUBS OF THE KEKS AND CAPS SIMILAR TO THOSE
OF THE ANCIENT EGYPTIAN PRIESTS. — RAPACITY OF THE CREW. —
TRIBUTARY LAKES. — HEIGHT OF THE SHORES. — THE TRIBE OF THE
BUNDURIÀLS. — DUSHÒÏL, THE KEK, ON BOARD SELÌM CAPITAN’S
VESSEL. — HIS SIMPLICITY. — TOBACCO PLANTATIONS. — THE GREAT
SHEIKH OF THE BUNDURIÀLS. — FISHING IMPLEMENTS OF THIS TRIBE. —
THEIR TOKULS, AND GIGANTIC SIZE OF THE MEN. — ANTELOPES OF THE ARIEL
SPECIES. — APATHY OF THE CREW, AND INDIFFERENCE AT THE LOSS OF THEIR
COMPANIONS. — PHILOSOPHY OF A NATIVE. — SINGULAR CONTRAST BETWEEN
THE FEATURES OF THE SHEIKHS AND THE OTHER NEGROES. — NATION OF THE
BOHRS. — THIBAUT’S BARTER. — REED-STRAW ON FIRE, AND DANGER TO
THE VESSELS. — FATALISM OF THE TURKS. — GREETING OF THE NATIVES:
THEIR SONG OF WELCOME.


5th January.—At sunrise we sail E.S.E., and see immediately,
on the right shore, a herdsman’s, or man’s village, to which
a woman’s village, with thirty-three regular tokuls, joins, and
where I saw seven sürtuks lying behind the houses. We wait again
for cattle above the village, and I remark among the crowd of people
our dear and faithful sheikh of Dim, or Dièm, who seems to wish to
accompany us through his kingdom: he is very easily recognised among
the ash-coloured men, even from a distance, by his red shirt. Not to
offend the good people, we went ashore again. The majority of the
Keks still wear their ivory rings round the upper part of the left
arm, and likewise have only one hole in their ear. They made their
appearance here without weapons; but brought, however, clubs of ebony,
decreasing in thickness towards the top and bottom, fluted, and about
two inches thick in the middle. In order to grasp them more firmly,
there was not only a thong of leather for the grip, but also a ring
of skin, or of the inside bark of a tree, woven around the handle. I
saw here a pair of felt caps, rising to the top in the form of a bomb,
and thick enough to ward off a blow from a club. This is the second
time that I have seen a covering for the head exactly similar to the
cap of the ancient Egyptian priests. These children of men have,
however, a dreadful and truly horrible appearance, for the face,
through the black patches of perspiration and the white crust of
ashes, is like black-veined marble; although the form of the body,
generally six feet high, and even of the head, notwithstanding the
mouth projects a little among the generality of them, is not at all
amiss; yet, perhaps, on the whole, it may be a little clownish.

At eight o’clock we advance with libàhn farther to E.; then the
Nile winds to the right, and we are, at nine o’clock, S.E. Here
we see on the right shore a gohr, that may be compared to a large
millbrook. The negroes seem to consider this gohr as a boundary
where they can see us once more and wish us farewell. Yet there is
only one who lays his hands crossways on his shoulders, bends his
body forward, and lets it fall upon his knees. This truly has a very
humble appearance, and may be an Ethiopian bow. We have already lost
the charm of novelty in the eyes of the people: they see that we
eat and drink like themselves, and, by the bye, rob and steal; that
everything suits us which is of great value amongst them, and that
they must content themselves with a few beads when once the booty is
in Turkish or Arabian hands. If we consider this nation, we start
the question, how is it possible that it could have remained from
eternity in this primitive grade of civilisation? From what mountains
have they descended? The surface of the earth here is scarcely even
now capable of receiving and supporting colonies of such a nature;
perhaps their earlier settlements were beyond the old shores in the
Gallas and Habas.

Whilst we come slowly up the river, the negroes remain standing
right and left on the shore; they do not sing and jump, and we
remark no astonishment in their faces. The next question which they
put to themselves may perhaps be, “What do these strangers want
here? What can they wish but our riches?” Let us ask the first
best Turk or Arab what are we doing here? He knows not; he does not
comprehend the aim of such an expedition, where there is no robbery,
no plunder, no kidnapping. Turks do not think that any colonisation is
possible, for their own country is already too extensive for them,
and will remain so, indeed, till a perfect regeneration of it by
conquering nations. Immeasurable tracts of land lie here vacant and
uncultivated; but only the negro, baked as he is, can stand the heat
of the sun. _He_ must, however, sacrifice to the climate the greatest
number of his teeth; this alone shews the diseases peculiar to the
marsh regions.

It is surprising that I nowhere see any elephants’ tusks, though
said to be so common here. About half past ten o’clock, S.S.E. On
the right a lake, running tolerably even with the river, narrow at
its southern point, more than an hour long, and three-quarters of
an hour broad. The Haba, with its videttes of old shores behind,
draws nearer before us. The right shore is a vast semicircle,
circumscribed by isolated trees, with many green grass-plats, pools,
ambaks, and a kind of acacia, with yellow clusters of flowers,
like the gold-rain of the laburnum. To judge from the many pools,
the river does not appear yet to have receded entirely, although the
nearest shore-land is already burnt away, right and left. We sail
half an hour, but the northern wind is too faint, and we come to its
assistance by towing. The stream is about five hundred paces broad,
and does not seem here to receive any tributaries.

A number of birds of prey pursue our vessels, in order, by a bold
attack, to seize the meat strung on lines. We know, even at a
distance, when a village is deserted, because it is immediately
taken possession of by these legions of the air, and rummaged in
all corners, in a very impudent manner. The natives on both shores
have here directly at hand another free and worthy position. _A long
village_, on the right shore, was by way of a joke called Dennap
(tail). The first group consisted of thirty-five tokuls, on elevated
ground; we only saw there old women and two old men. Our sailors,
who were towing, immediately shot at the vultures whirling round
over us through the village—forced open the doors of the huts, made
of reeds or animal skins, and stole the hides lying there for beds,
and whatever else was near. My loud abuse and threats brought them,
however, into something like reason. This tokul group was followed by
a double and threefold row of tokuls, about one hundred and twenty
in number, on the high border of the river; therefore it had the
appearance of an artificial dam, but may perhaps have been elevated
gradually by the rudera of the tokuls themselves. A herdsman’s
village joined on to the tokuls, numbering only thirty-one huts,
and some square sheds, the flat reed-roofs of which were covered with
earth and ashes. Negroes sat under them to be protected from the sun,
and allowed us quietly to draw near, without making “Fantasie,”
as our men wished. We stop near the village till three o’clock:
its inhabitants appear mostly to have fled. We then advance for a
time libàhn, and halt again, without any object.

At five o’clock we again advance to the south, for the natives
do not shew themselves. On the left we notice one, and on the right
two, lakes. We see, from the mast, at the distance of a quarter of
an hour, a lake of an hour long, and half of that in breadth; and
some hundred paces at the side of the left shore, a lake, not broad,
but, judging from the green grass, about two hours’ long. Behind,
towards the west, another lake shews itself, on the margin of which
the Haba recedes about an hour and a half; and behind us also,
on the left shore, a third lake to N.W. In front, towards S.S.W.,
a lake, behind which another, in S.S.W., in the obtuse angle formed
by the river there to the right shore; therefore, at one glance we
observed _five lakes_ on the left shore, joining, very certainly,
at high-water, and taking up an enormous space. There is no tree to
be seen on the left to announce the far-distant right shore; yet a
margin of wood shews itself in the distance on the left from E.S.E. to
W. The air appears to be clearer, for I see the smoke, in many places,
ascending straight up. At sunset we have the lake at our side, which
lies, at five o’clock, S.S.W. of us, and behind it another strip of
water flashes up in the south. From S. we go again in a semicircle to
E. and N.E., and immediately again southward. We sail, indeed, since
five o’clock, but have made, deducting the water-course, which has
gradually got up again to a mile in rapidity, scarcely half a mile in
the hour. At seven o’clock, E.N.E., and at eight o’clock S. by E.,
and soon afterwards from W.S.W. to S. and S.E. to E., from E. to S.W.,
E.S.E., and N.E., sometimes with the sails, sometimes libàhn, equally
quick, for the north wind is very slack. In the level extensive arch,
S. by W. to S.S.W., at last we halt at the corner, where the river
winds to N.E. A large lake twinkles here on the left shore. The
river retains, generally, a breadth of about five hundred paces;
its depth is here two fathoms and a half. This seldom amounts to
more than three, and was to-day, in one part, only two fathoms.

Nevertheless, the river always contains a large quantity of water,
for the shores, precipitous and deep, nearly fall away in a right
angle. It is surprising that we have not yet found a flint, or
any other stone, in the Nile sand. The Mountains of the Moon must
therefore be still far distant from us. The thermometer, at sunrise,
20°, at ten o’clock 26°, at twelve o’clock 27°, and rose till
three o’clock to 29°. After sunset, 26°, a heat too great for me,
as I was not well; although I had borne, at Khartùm, on the shores
of the Blue river, a heat of 42° to 45° throughout the hot days;
and was subsequently to endure, in the city of Sennaar, for three
days, at three o’clock in the afternoon, 48° Reaumur.

_6th January._—The Haba goes to the east, under the horizon,
in the position in which we cast anchor this morning to S.S.W. It
seems, therefore, that we shall approach again the firm line of
the left old shore, by surprising windings; for the right has
been unfaithful. Nothing is to be seen of it except the high bed
of the primitive river, or a valley watered by the stream, partly
laid on dry ground, over which the Nile flows, from time to time,
with its waves, or rolls here and there into it at its pleasure. We
proceed with libàhn around the corner mentioned, to N.N.E., but,
after a short time, with a sharp wind, to E.S.E., where the river is
remarkably contracted. An hour from the left shore is a large lake,
wherein are fishermen; close to us a large fish-pond. The stream has,
by the choking up and alteration of its bed, left behind numberless
such fish-ponds, in a greater or smaller degree. The Icthyophagi
only need for the in and out letting of the Nile water, to keep open
the canals connected with the stream, so as to have continually an
abundance of fish. From E.S.E. we go in a shallow bend again to S.E.,
where we spread sails.

Now, at eight o’clock, again in this circle, to S.W. by W., and
we came in this manner closer to the old wood, as I had previously
conjectured. The river appears really by this means to wish to keep
more to the left old shore; for even the right side of the reeds is
here generally higher than the left. It is clear, and the evidence
of the eye-sight teaches us, that the shores, in almost all places
where old or choked-up water-courses do not run into the land, are
remarkably higher than the surface of the earth immediately behind,
as is plainly perceived in the stream territory of the _United
Nile_, which has been cultivated for thousands of years. The latter
especially struck me when, on my return to Egypt, I met with newly dug
canals, which were yet without bridges, and their banks so sloping,
that I was often obliged to ride up towards the mountains or along
their channel. The bed of the canal was always lower up the country,
although it lay on an equal line with the mouth of the Nile. This
rise in the bed of the stream exactly explains here, as well as
in Egypt, the inundations. They form then, in connection with the
tropical rains, numberless sloughs, ponds, and lakes, which must
collect and completely evaporate in these long basins, were they
not artificially diverted by the natives for the purpose of fishing,
through incisions in the shore-dams, when the Nile falls.

Half-past eight o’clock. From S.W. by W. we go in the circle on to
S., E., N. to N.W. by W., where we lay-to at ten o’clock. It only
wanted 85° of a perfect circle. From this gyration, forwarding
but little our journey, we go in a bend to N., and then to E. A
gentle north wind sets in, called even by the crew, Hauer badlàhn
(faint wind). My good countryman, who ought to refresh me again,
is really extremely weak, and deserts us entirely in a quarter of
an hour. Suddenly the wind blows against us from the south; and it
would be an evil thing for our voyage if south winds should now set
in, although we must not expect constancy in the winds in these
equatorial regions of Central Africa, judging from our present
experience of them. Eleven o’clock, to S.E.; twelve o’clock,
S.S.E. A city with several tokuls seems to obstruct our road, and,
as it were, to invite us.

We stopped, therefore, in a south-easterly direction before three
o’clock, near the well-built village, which, at a distance,
appears larger than it is; it numbers thirty-five tokuls, and is
named Papio, and is the first village of a tribe calling themselves
Bunduriàls. The name of the sheikh who came to meet us at the shore
is Wadshia-Koï. On the right shore, up the country, the Tutui are
said to dwell, but no huts are to be seen there. These Bunduriàls
speak the language of the Keks,—a dialect closely allied to that
of the Dinkas. In their powerful form of body they are also similar
to the Dinkas, only better built; and their women smaller than the
giant forms of the Dinka women, with their angular shoulders. Almost
all the people here had a white feather in the black hair-bonnet on
their heads. The latitude is, according to Selim Capitan, 5° 11′.

The river, which for some days has decreased in depth, amounts
to two fathoms and a half, near the village of Papio, and,
as I ascertained myself, to only two higher up. This is truly a
considerable difference compared with the lower course of the river,
but there always remains still a large mass of water in the breadth of
two hundred to three hundred paces, near the precipitous falling-away
shores. The rapidity of the river remains, on an average, one mile,
yet less where the water is deeper. I have been since noon with
Suliman Kashef and Feïzulla, on board Selim Capitan’s vessel. The
latter has continually a sailor on the mast, and has counted eight
lakes from yesterday noon till to-day. At half-past five o’clock
libàhn to S.S.E., where a small lake is perceived on the left
shore. A little after sun-set we halt for a moment, because the men
are nearly worked to death with towing in the reeds, which are twice
the height of a man. The thermometer, shewing before sun-rise 24°,
and at noon 28°, had got up at three o’clock to 32°, and fell at
sun-set to 30°. We went very slowly with a gentle north wind to S. by
W., to N.E., and then right round to S.S.W. Selim Capitan is really
very attentive at his post, although his momentary activity arises
partly from our presence. I praise him, by way of encouragement,
to induce him to go on as far as we can. About half-past six
o’clock, we sailed with the wind blowing fresh S.S.W., and had
three miles’ course, in a wide bend to S.E., till eight o’clock,
and at half-past eight S.W., where a small island lay on our right;
then a short tract S.E., and lastly E.

Selim-Capitan has a native on board, who is of the race of the Keks,
and whose home was at Bakàk, near the village of Dim. His name is
Dushóïl; he is a jolly old dog, with a half-blind eye. He journeyed
with the expedition last year, and seems to have a natural talent for
languages, for he managed to make himself understood generally with
our blacks. I am able, therefore, to learn something from him. He
calls the Nile “Kir,” and not Kiati, or Kiti; but I cannot vouch
for it that I have rightly caught his pronunciation, incredible as
this may appear. Water to drink, is “Piju;” good, “affiàt,”
and “abàt;” bad, “arrashd,” or “arràdsh” (spoken with a
humming sound); nothing, “liju;” to eat, “tshiàn;” mountain,
“kur;” come, “Bà;” Hallo, men, “Ajajà!” His countrymen
do not appear to be idol worshippers, and recognize a great God,
who dwells much higher, or is like the mast of the ship, which he
always pointed at to express His grandeur.

The name of the great Mek of the Keks is Kajòk: he does not know
where he dwells, or perhaps may not wish to say, as well as many other
things on which he was asked. It is probable that I was right in my
former assertion, that their king is called Ajol, and his village
Gòg, for he may connect both words in his indistinct language. He
treats his own name also in a similar manner, by appending the
word Dim, and then calls himself Dsholi-Dim. The Keks, as also
the Bunduriàls, take the iron for their spears and arrows from
the region of Arol, the mountain of which lies towards the west,
and cannot be seen here, owing to the trees. Another tribe dwells
there. From this place they fetch their copper for the few earrings
that they wear, and upon which they do not seem to lay any particular
value. I was glad that I was at his elbow for some time, although the
coarse jokes of the Turks, in which even Selim-Capitan’s servants
took part, annoyed me. He is a good fellow, and is obliged now to do
at Rome as the Romans do. He could not pronounce C in the alphabet,
but always said T, and swelled the tone at every repetition, without
being able to come nearer to the pronunciation. He sang, screamed,
and danced just as one wished: meat dried in the sun was given him;
but he soon said, laughing, “Arrádsh,” because it agreed with
his teeth as little as the dry biscuit did. A pipe was brought him
to smoke, but the crew had filled it at the bottom with powder,
which exploded; on account of this, he would not smoke any more,
and was afraid even of a lantern, when one was brought close to
him. Soon afterwards, he took the ashes from all the pipes, and put
them in his mouth with the burnt tobacco. Hereupon I gave him some
tobacco in his hand, which he kneaded together into a quid, and took
in his mouth. A roasted leg of mutton was afterwards handed to him,
and the cat immediately approached. He fairly divided it with her,
and took great pleasure in this animal, because it could climb up
the ropes. Then he was a long time enticing two young goats, by
whistling, and calling “Suk-suk-suk,”—nature’s sounds, even
used by us—and played with them as if they were his children. One
of his principal songs began with “Abandejo,” and he managed to
imitate the chorus, “Wai, wai, Abandejo,” &c.

Suliman Kashef had played some coarse Turkish jokes on him; he was
offended for a moment, but he soon slid on his knees to him, in order
that the latter might spit on the back and palm of his hands. He
played the buffoon, because he had been once mad. Some time since,
they hung beads round him, and put on him a shirt reaching to his
stomach, and he had so raved about with joy, that he became at last
sleepy, went into the cabin, and lay down upon Selim Capitan’s bed;
but he was soon hunted out of that, and they made a bed for him under
a cannon, to keep him safe from the further bantering of the crew. He
is a commoner of nature, and so they all appear to me to be, but far
from being savages,—and less barbarous, indeed, than many Europeans,
who are clothed from head to foot. He was very much delighted with
an Arabic song; I could see it by his face; now he comes nearer
with more confidence, claps his hands, and shouts “Abàt,” or
bravo! He wanted to learn it, and caught the tune rightly; but they
laughed at him, and he became quiet again. Selim Capitan and I tried
to imitate the idiom of his language; he thought he really understood
something every now and then, and wanted even to correct us.

I saw, the day before yesterday, and previously, some tobacco
plantations close by every tokul. I looked for this plant in vain
to day at the two villages; perhaps it was already gathered. At nine
o’clock, on the right, the village of Angort, or rather _Awargot_;
which, as usual, was divided into a male (or herdsmen’s) and
female village. Ten o’clock to the south; before the left shore an
island,—course three miles and a half. At eleven o’clock S.S.W.,
we approach Arnaud’s vessel; he is on the point of furling sails,
notwithstanding the favourable east wind. Selim Capitan habitually
of a somewhat timorous nature, inquired of him whether he wishes to
anchor here; without understanding his answer, he was also about
to follow his example and halt, when I asked him whether he was
commander or not. We sail on, therefore, and Arnaud is obliged,
_nolens volens_, to follow. A little after midnight we cast anchor
near the village of Aujan, and stood to the South.

_7th January._—In the morning we landed on the left shore, where
the great sheikh of the Bunduriàl nation presented himself as an old
friend, being already known by the preceding expedition. He was of
colossal figure, above six feet high, had a handsome aquiline nose,
and a truly expressive physiognomy: about thirty years of age; naked,
according to the custom of his ancestors. He was only distinguished
from the others by wearing unusually large ivory rings on the upper
part of the arm. His name is Biur. A red shirt and coral beads
having been presented to him, he went away to procure meat, and
to send messengers up the river to prepare a favourable reception
for us. Behind this village of Aujan a large lake extends from
N.N.W. to S.W., and a serpentine canal, some thirty feet in width,
before the village, pours into it. Several people were moving on
this long lake to catch fish: their implements were fish-baskets,
of a whole, or half form, or mere wicker-baskets, which they dipped
into the lake and quickly drew up again.

To judge from the ground inclining gently, as if in a flat dish,
and from those trees, forming the arch from N.N.W. to S.W., being
the forerunners of a thicker Haba, a very large lake must be filled
here at high water. The greatest part of the water is afterwards
let off, for the sake of fishing, through the before-named canal. An
immeasurable quantity of water, generally, is collected in the low
lands, according to all the appearances which I myself have found
of such ponds in my short excursions into the neighbourhood. These
always exercise a lasting effect on the lower height of the water
of the White Stream, by their nearly simultaneous draining off,
whilst they contribute mostly during the inundation to the sudden
swelling of the White Stream by their connection with it. The tokuls
of this village, which is called Auan or Auwan, are not badly built,
but have low walls; the point of the roof also is not high. The lower
wall, being of reeds, and plastered with Nile slime, is only three
and a half or four feet high. The door is square here instead of
the usual oval form; it is constructed of reeds, and before it are
two stakes fixed in the ground, supporting a cross stake. Almost all
the tokuls have a little porch before this door, which is covered by
the roof being extended over it. The outer door is therefore lower
than the inner one, and the inmates are compelled to crawl into
the house. Generally, on the White Nile, it is necessary to stoop
very much to enter the tokuls. The roof is indented according to the
length of the straw bound up in hoops, and to the height of the roof
itself; it has from five to eight separations. The point of the roof
is covered, as I before remarked, by a gourd-shell, opening at the top
and bottom, and forms a broad ring, in which the slender beams join.

Part of the people sat or stood there; only a few collected round
our vessels. Many of them carried a long reed, instead of the spear,
in their hands. They would not allow themselves to be measured,
and continued to avoid me. I gave my servants three reeds of six,
six and a half, and seven feet long, to stand near the natives,
and by this means I ascertained their height. The average amounted
to from six to seven Rhenish feet.[8] We ourselves were like pigmies
among these giants. I might stretch myself to the utmost, but I could
not come up to these men, though of the _considerable_ height of five
feet, two inches, four lines. The village numbers only twenty-eight
to thirty tokuls, and lies along the shore to S.S.E. We sail away
at eight o’clock, and in five minutes find a herdsmen’s village
on our right side, and immediately afterwards another, near which
the river winds to E., and we advance with libàhn. It is a large
pastoral village, and appears to belong, with the preceding ones,
to Aujan. The few tokuls of Aujan must serve the herdsmen, in the
rainy season, as a place of refuge, for they lie tolerably high.

This morning, early, there were clouds in the sky, as is now generally
the case; but still it is very warm, and we had, shortly before
sunrise, 22° Reaumur. When I consider the endless labyrinths of
the White Stream, and the eternal slackening of the winds, I fear
that we shall never arrive at the sources of the White Nile. The
stream is, as it were, without a border in the rainy season, and
towing then is an impossibility, even if the south winds connected
with it should not be violently against us. Yet I cannot resist
the thought that it is not only possible to discover the sources,
but also to scale the mountains lying to the south, of which all
these tribes speak, and to pass over in some other stream territory
to the Western Ocean. These thoughts occupy my mind when I sit at
night before the cabin, and indulge in the reflection of such a bold
undertaking, and one that would not be depreciated by the scientific
world. My men are enraptured at such a proposal; but dare I confide
in their courage? Yes, for if I did not, I should have turned them
off long ago.

We remarked a group of trees at a long village situated on the left
side of the river, containing sixty-five to seventy tokuls; and near
it we go further east, the Haba before us, receding in S.S.W. I look
at the village closer, and find that the very diminutive huts near
the large tokuls, are not, as our men thought, for the children,
but for the young cattle, and that this village has many straw or
reed huts behind it for the pastoral men. Every thing is burnt down
at our right hand, and only on the left is the border of the Nile
still festooned by reeds and creepers; it is here not above three
feet high. The enormous plain, in which is distinguished, from the
mast, three lakes at the last point of the Haba to S.S.W., stood,
therefore, entirely under water, although we perceive now numerous
cattle and a large summer village in the centre. On the left also
we see, from the mast, a lake and a village, about half an hour
from the right shore. The large half-moon on the right has still
green spots on every side, defying the fire with their pools. The
land (if I may use this expression to distinguish it from the plain
subject to the inundation, the secondary shores of which have become
secure by the stream having fallen very much) is about three hours’
distant. The before-mentioned group of trees stands isolated behind
the left shore; the latter is somewhat elevated; yet the old shore,
said to approach before us again, recedes far into the above-named
higher tract of land.

Ten o’clock. We have mastered the bend to S.W. by W., and sail
now with north wind to S. A sand-bank forms the point of this
bend. Yesterday afternoon, and previously, it occurred to me that here
also the right side of the river, in an easterly direction, is nearly
always marked by higher shores; but to-day this was very apparent,
for the difference amounts to four feet. This is more evident because
the reeds and grass are burnt away. Behind the above-mentioned group
of trees, near which we perceive a number of overgrown ant-hills,
I saw again the blue trees of the right shore, like the friendly
appearance of old acquaintances. For a long time nothing has emerged
on that side except from the elevated point of view on the mast. It
depends upon the changeable humour of the river whether they come
nearer to us or not. Between the dark blue margin of this wood we
perceive a long glimmering water-tract. Some ten minutes’ later
to S.E., at our right hand, a herdsmen’s village. Again, on the
right, round to the S., up to W. In the interior of the country three
villages, an hour long; but at a distance between the Haba, which
appears to be very thick and woody, water is still visible, possibly
in connection with the lake. This is at half-past ten o’clock; four
miles. At eleven o’clock S.E.; on the right a pastoral village,
on the left another. The north wind has veered, and we go, about
twelve o’clock, libàhn, in E.S.E. The wind changes about two
o’clock to our advantage: we sail from E.S.E. to S. and W.S.W.

At three o’clock we halt in S.E. by S. At half-past three o’clock
we go S.S.E. A tokul city of one hundred and five dwellings is on the
left, upon an island of two hours and a half long, commencing already
when we were in S. On the left shore a lake about three hours long
extends to the distant Haba, connected with the river by a narrow
canal. Somewhat more behind we see two more lakes, and at a little
distance on the right another city. On the left shore and the lake
some tokuls, with flat arched roofs and round doors. E. and E. by
S., towards S.E., is a village of thirty tokuls, some paces from the
shore, by it a lake, and behind this the other lake, which I stated
to be a water-tract, still continues.

We go quickly, with four miles’ course in S.W. by W., but also round
a corner to E. We halt at half past five o’clock to N.N.E., where,
on the right, there is a lake with a village. The before-named lake,
of about three hours long, on the left shore, extends still far with
the river, like a deserted bed of the stream, as we saw by the green
strips, and the numbers of white and light coloured birds, that had
encamped on its margin. If we consider somewhat more accurately,
as I have already remarked, the main direction of these lakes, so
far as the prospect from the vessel allows, we find that they always
form chords, diameters, and tangents of the elliptical and circular
windings of the present stream. On the right and left, a number of
elephants are quite close to the shore, without being disturbed by
us, and even the many light-brown antelopes remain quietly standing,
and gaze at us. They are of the ariel species, of which also there
are many in Taka; their flesh is very savoury.

We have done with sailing, and take refuge again in towing. The
above-named intersections of the curves formed by the river are seen
plainly on both sides. I had already thought that Suliman Kashef could
not withstand the sight of the ariels. We stop on the right, at the
shore just where the river winds from N.E. to N. The extreme edge
of the shore is broken off precipitately to a height of five feet,
as also on the right side of the river. The antelopes retreated as
soon as the noise of the vessels reached the shore. The reeds are by
no means to be trusted, because large beasts of prey are in the habit
of taking up their position there, in order to rush upon the antelopes
as their certain prize, when the deer go to water at sunset. A few
soldiers, therefore, were sent forward for our protection.

On our return from the chase, during which not a shot was fired,
we lost two bàltashi (carpenters or sappers) in the reeds, without
our being able to recall them, though signal-shots were fired. They
were Egyptians, steady men, and therefore we could not at all suppose
that they had deserted. Notwithstanding this, the crew only looked
for these men in the neighbourhood, shrugged their shoulders, and
supposed that the assad or nimr (lion or tiger) had eaten them. The
word _nimr_ cannot, properly speaking, mean tiger here, for there
are no tigers, as is well known, in Africa; but it is the general
expression for panthers and leopards, as _fagged_ for the lynx. At
eight o’clock we sail on again to S.E., and make four miles. The
river is here again about 400 paces broad. At nine o’clock, when
we go S., we leave a small island at our left; the wind slackens
in half an hour, but brings us S. by E. to a village, near which we
cast anchor in the middle of the river.

_8th January._—The vessels stand S.E., and this is the first
time, for a considerable period, that _one_ direction has held
on so long. Long before sun-rise, the natives sing in honour of
us their “Teabing.” The village only consists of some forty
sleeping-places; each one holds several men, but the herds of cattle
tethered there are exceeding numerous. The natives drive oxen near
us, and are in such haste to bring them to the vessels that we can
scarcely keep them off; they remain standing with the beasts, quite
out of humour, point to them, and make supplicating gestures that we
would condescend to receive the offerings. We have, however, become
proud, for our Saturnian stomachs have had, at last, enough meat. The
natives are of unusual size, and the troop standing above the pastoral
village near the bee-hives, overtop their habitations by a foot.

The north-east wind is too faint; therefore again the cry is
“Churr el libàhn.” From the mast:—back on the right, towards
W., a large lake and a village; another at the side towards S.W.,
of half an hour in length, with a herdsman’s village. Behind this
the Haba draws round in a bend. The wood is about one hour and a
half distant, beyond the right side of the shore; but no lake is
to be seen there, because there are not any angles cut off at this
side. So likewise Fadl does not see a village, although yonder is
the country of the Bohrs, who are said to dwell more inland; at all
events, there must be water there. My Sale Mohammed, who, being
my cook, wanted to procure me some roasted venison, has, against
my will, gone too far from the shore, and not observed that we have
changed the towing-path, and gone to the left shore. I am very angry
with him, for one so easily gets in a passion in these countries. On
calmer reflection, I see that I ought to have more care for his life,
and that he who ventures his life for me does not deserve blows.

Eight o’clock, S.W. by S. We halt at nine o’clock, S.S.E. on the
left shore, in order to wait for ivory. I sent Suliman Kashef’s
sürtuk to the other side, to fetch Sale at this opportunity. The
hygrometer 54°. A number of people are collecting around, and
ready to give us all that they possess. The men, though _only_
seven feet high, look like trees, in their rough and naked natural
forms. Their tonsure is various; large ivory rings adorn the upper
part of their arms. They would like to strip these off, but they
sit too tightly, because they were placed on the arm before it
was thoroughly formed. Now the flesh protrudes above and below the
rings. A large man, appearing to be a little crased, or, perhaps,
chief jester, wears an iron ring with flat bells on his left foot,
and carries an unusually long spear, the shaft of which, being of
a spiral form, is surrounded from the top to the bottom with narrow
iron hoops. It must be interesting to understand his witticisms, for
the others listened to him very attentively, and are extraordinarily
delighted. He prefers his protecting spear to my beads; and it almost
seems to me that these great children laugh at his philosophy as
being stupidity.

The few spears we see here are of very different kinds; therefore,
either imported or captured, in their contests, in the mutual
hurling of spears. The greatest number, however, are pikes,
tapering to a conical point. I only see the latter in the hands of
the less skilful negroes. They seat themselves on the shore, sing,
and beg for beads, pointing with their forefinger and thumb to the
roundness of them. They have bad teeth, almost without exception;
from this circumstance, perhaps, that they chew and smoke tobacco,
partly to alleviate the eternal tooth-ache. If they did not complain
of tooth-ache, yet they shewed us the entire want or decay of their
teeth, when we gave them biscuit to masticate. Their chief or sheikh
had, like the great sheikh of the Bunduriàls, an aquiline nose, and
nobler features than the others: this I have remarked generally. The
black colour alone induces us to suppose that they are of the negro
race; though their features are generally not of that cast. Most
Europeans, if they were painted as black, would be like them.

In observing the difference of these negroes among themselves,
of whom the question can hardly be of a higher or lower grade of
civilisation, and the features by that means distinctly impressed,
we are involuntarily led to the idea that the families of these
chiefs were either immigrating and conquering races, or the remains
of the aborigines; and that, having diminished to solitary families,
they have preserved among themselves their peculiar type, which is
similar to that of the Caucasian race.

In a shooting excursion, I found it here also confirmed that the
surface of the earth is lower behind the shores than the shore
itself. This is especially seen by the vessels, which disappear even
to half the mast at a little distance behind the shore. Nevertheless
the ground was elevated again in the distance like the rim of a
basin, whereon we remarked trees, evidently denoting an earlier
shore. Water stood here and there, around which numerous marsh-birds
had collected. I could not, however, get within shot of them, owing
to the swampy nature of the soil.

Shortly before noon we continued our voyage with the rope, but the
strong south-east wind worked so much against us that we advanced
little or nothing. Besides, the crew do not seem to wish to run in
perspiration and scalding heat, for to-day is Friday, and therefore
the Turkish Sunday.

At twelve o’clock, a large herdsmen’s village on the right shore,
with black giants, to whom the ant-hills serve as watch-towers, and
where they look even taller, being contrasted with the horizon. This
is the nation of the Bohrs. Here and there are seen men waiting on
the shore, holding cattle by a rope, to sell them for beads.

The ox is said to be sacred amongst them. They may perhaps love and
prize their cattle, to which they have but little else preferable,
and may prefer the bull as the founder of the family, but that
is all. After half an hour, where the river winds from S.E. to
E. and N.E., is on the right a pastoral village. The nation of the
Banduriàls stands here collected with a present of cows, but it
was not accepted by us. From N.E. round a sand corner on the right,
to S.S.W.

Here the meat-eaters, who will not be contented till they catch some
disorder, cannot resist the temptation to receive some cattle. As in
some parts of Belled Sudàn, copper wire is used for the decoration
of spears, I had brought some with me rolled on a stick, and here
and there cut off into rings. I exchanged such a ring for a red club,
not made of ebony, but of some other heavy wood. The black stuck the
ring immediately on his finger, half covering it; and Thibaut had no
sooner remarked this wire ring, than he tried to procure it from the
black by exchanging any number of beads for it, whilst my servants
stood by and laughed not a little. He shewed it afterwards on his
own finger, and thought that it was gold, and that we should now gain
endless treasures for our beads, because the people, fortunately for
us, did not know the value. I did not wish to disturb his innocent
wishes, and was silent till the ring changed colour, when it afforded
us a subject for laughter. There was but little to purchase from the
people, because they, with few exceptions, brought long reed-stalks
in their hands, instead of any weapons, as a sign of their friendly
intentions, according to the orders of their king, Biur, who had done
so at our request. A pretty young woman, with tolerably long hair,
stood at a little distance, holding a spear in her hand.

At two o’clock we leave the sand-bank; immediately numberless birds
settled there, and collected themselves for a banquet on the remains
of the slaughtered beasts. We sailed S.S.W., a short tract, and then
round the left to S.E.; here we saw, at half-past two o’clock,
towards E., a large pastoral city, and people, and dogs,—the latter
in unusually large numbers. From the mast:—on the right, to S.W.,
a lake; likewise one over the village to S.S.E.; and beside this
village, five others up to the Haba: on the right shore, neither
the one nor the other. The thermometer 29° at three o’clock. The
above-named village of herdsmen, whose huts, like flat bee-hives,
consist of reeds and straw, is followed by the huts of the women,
built with a little more care, and also higher, having a square
entrance, and on the top another thick irregular layer of reeds, so
as to make the bent stalks of reeds heavier, and to keep off the rain.

The river goes from here E.N.E. For some days past, glass beads have
been exchanged for ivory. I also, for the first time in my life, am
now turning to mercantile speculations, and pleasing myself with the
idea of the astonishment I shall cause to my brother. Five o’clock,
E.N.E.; the north wind is good; five miles, whilst we only made three
shortly after our setting out. At sun-set S.E. by E.; a smell of fire,
and the smoke of a village, on the right side, came to meet us. We
are soon convinced, to our horror, that the reed-straw near us is in
full blaze, and it is fortunate that the river here does not make any
curves, or we might be directly exposed to the flames. On the right
is a large village, with peculiar tokuls, enveloped in black clouds
of smoke, over which the sun dips as if into a dark sea of blood.

If we consider how such a reed conflagration extends with incredible
swiftness in a violent wind, we shall see that the fire is not alone
to be viewed as a purifying element of the marshy region, but also as
the greatest means of destruction of the numerous forms of reptiles,
and indescribable numbers of insects prevalent here. I have already
convinced myself of this by the remains of consumed snakes. The
river winds at the corner occupied by the long village, to S.W.

Two calves swam in the water, not being able to scramble up the
precipitous shore again. The men had no sooner asked me whether they
should take them, than I, as the momentary wokil of Feïzulla Capitan,
gave them permission, in order to return them at a subsequent period
when we came again to the natives; for there was so much meat on
board, that it disgusted even part of the crew. The reïs tried with
all his might to throw overboard the beasts just saved, because they
were not to be slaughtered, and he wanted to have the hides; this,
however, I very soon managed to prevent.

Seven o’clock.—The wind had slackened after sunrise, and the
sailors now sang at the rope; women and cows hallooed and lowed in
opposition. I had forgotten to observe the thermometer, whilst we
were passing by the burning reeds; but now, after seven o’clock,
when we have the fire behind us, it shews 28° Reaumur. By reason
of the great danger, we try to get out of the reeds; the men at
the rope are in a very difficult position when darkness sets in,
for they wound their feet on the reed-stubble. On the left are two
gohrs for catching fish, near another small lake. A little village
lies on the top of the third island, with nine summer tokuls. On
the right shore extends the long tokul village, and opposite to it
twinkles a gohr, near a village. Behind us, the reeds burn in full
blaze, to an immeasurable distance. From the mast:—from W.S.W. to
N.W., a marsh, with isolated ponds, stretching far and wide; on
the left, to S.E., a vast lake, the edge of which vanishes with the
horizon. It is already too dark, and we halt, after eight o’clock,
in the neighbourhood of a herdsmen’s village on the left shore,
where the river winds from E.S.E. to E.

Suliman Kashef sends for me, because he is going to give a great
fantasie, or feast to the sailors, as a reward for their strenuous
labours in bringing us out of the reach of the fire.

_9th January._—The thermometer, which yesterday evening remained at
28°, stood this morning, shortly before sunrise, at 16°. Our vessel
dragged her anchor to-night, owing to a heavy squall of wind. Then
arose again the usual noise, about which the captain troubled himself
but little. I had felt a shock of the vessel, but did not think that
it would be attended by any consequences; but as the hippopotami had
already run against the vessels sometimes with such violence that
they leaked, I paid some attention to what was going on. By way of
precaution, the planks before the cabin were taken away, that we might
be able to see when the water ascended into the lower hold. A gaffir
(sentinel) had been placed there, but I had known for a long time how
these night posts fulfilled their duty. I looked down, therefore,
a short time afterwards into the hold, and saw that it was already
full of water.

The sentry gaped prodigiously when I woke him up by a vigorous
blow. The powder-room under our cabin stood open, so that the gaffir
might observe the better; therefore I could not be too quick in
ordering water to be poured on the fire, which was burning furiously
on the hearth, and which some one had kept up from fancy,—perhaps
the sentinel himself, to light his pipe. Then I awoke the rest of
the crew, for Feïzulla Capitan lay like a log, because when the
habùb set in, he had fortified his courage too much with the araki
brewed by himself.

Immediately after sunrise, when the water was got out, we were
towed to the left shore E., and immediately N.E. by E. From the
mast:—on the left, to the N., lies a village near a small lake;
on the right two villages in the plain before the Haba. The wood is
an hour distant, but not of the same thickness as those of yesterday
and the day before, on the left shore. We go S.S.W., where, on the
left, is a village in a short bend in S.E. The whole horizon before
us is covered with horned cattle shining from afar. My servants
have purchased, on land, several skins of wild beasts, worn by
the natives around their shoulders. Seven o’clock: seventeen to
twenty genuine tokuls, and behind, a pastoral village, with the usual
appearance. The men sing to our sailors, who are towing, but yet they
remain on the large hills of ashes; the women sing “Abandejok,”
jump, and recite besides God knows what other pretty things. Their
village lies about eight feet high, and it does not seem that the
high water reaches there, for we do not perceive any repairs to the
lower clay walls of the tokuls. The surface of the earth behind the
sand-shores is low ground. Half-past seven o’clock. From S.E. with
a short bend io S.S.W.

A number of Bohrs are standing upon the point of land formed by a
gohr to E.; they complain to us that the Elliàbs dwelling on the
other side of the gohr have stolen their cows. We are no priests
of justice, and continue our course. This gohr appears, therefore,
to form the boundary between the Bohrs and Elliàbs. I was surprised
that the former tribe did not dare to cross over the canal, which
is about thirty paces broad, and probably connected with a great
lake, as the choked-up dams prove, and claim their property _manu
forti_. Their whole system of warfare may possibly consist only in
such _coups-de-main_, from which, for the moment, eventual brawls
may arise. It does not appear to me probable that a whole nation
arms and takes the field against the other, for this would be a war
of annihilation, which cannot take place, as the numerous population
shews.

Eight o’clock. From S.E. to S.S.E. with sails; for the north wind
freshens. Whilst I am writing this, the wind suddenly blows from S.E.,
and we are glad to halt at the left shore, where the sand is heaped up
more than ten feet high. We go on by the rope. A storm comes from the
south-east wind, but shews itself, however, as a mere blast of wind
(habùb). At half-past eight o’clock we sail a short tract to S.,
but then again libàhn to S.E., on the right shore. Ten o’clock. An
innumerable quantity of cows in the low ground on the right side of
the shore, where there are more pools and a pastoral village. Again
were oxen dragged to us.

We notice a large encampment of herdsmen, somewhat up the country, in
the river behind the little pastoral village: I call it an encampment
because there are no huts there, but sheds, as a protection against
the sun, lying flat upon four stakes, the walls being partly protected
by reeds. These straw huts, with flat roofs, which I had seen also
besides in the pastoral villages, and which serve in the whole
country of Sudàn, during the hot season of the year, for household
labours, are called by the Arabs Rekùba. Even the open porches of the
clay-houses are so called. Besides these, the reed-walls, protecting
the very large fires of the encampment against the wind, stand far
and wide around, and glistening herds of cows pasture there on all
sides. The abundance of herds might give, indeed, some scale by which
we could judge of the population, as I see from the rearing of the
beasts that a certain number of hands are necessary. Still S.E., and
behind the high reeds of the river another little pastoral village,
near which we go to S. Eleven o’clock. On the right a tokul city
at the point where we go S.W. Seventy to eighty houses stand along
the shore, and we perceive, in a straight line, an arm of the Nile,
separating a level island from a large pool. Immediately behind
the city a pastoral village extends here and there, with that arm,
towards the south.

There are many people on the shore, singing their “Abandejok:”
the old women are particularly distinguished in this welcoming. We
heard, _horribile dictu_, the clattering noise they make by striking
their hanging breasts up and down; remaining with closed knees on one
spot, they jumped or sprang up, swinging backwards and forwards their
elbows and hands in a horizontal direction, and, bringing both hands
before them, greeted us, or begged for something. The younger ones
stood at a distance, and looked at the play,—kept back, indeed,
more by the men than by their own bashfulness. The men swam over
the arm of the river, in order to accompany us still further along
the shore, or rather to catch a few beads. Opposite this hamlet
are some tokuls, with a large pastoral village. We navigate S.S.W.,
and half past eleven o’clock S.E.

On the right a gohr discloses itself here, towards the south; two
brooks flow now into its shores, close to one another; they join at
high water like an arm of the river,—not deep, indeed, but yet as
broad as the river we traverse. Opposite to its mouth is what seems
a village, the huts in which appear to consist of sheaves of reeds
joined together. On closer inspection, I see that it is not a village,
but green reeds cut down and placed together to dry, to be used for
building materials. We remark that the gohr goes subsequently to
S.W., and see towards the west a pastoral village, connected with
the tokul city. The extreme margin of the right shore is seven feet,
and of the left three feet; the shores themselves ascend up to ten
and twelve feet in height. On all sides, as far as the eye can reach,
water tracts glisten in the low grounds.

Twelve o’clock. We halt till two o’clock, at an island of
the left shore, and go then by the rope in a bend from the above
S.E. direction, in half an hour’s time to N. by E. Here we
work round a low sand-bank, which projects itself sharply into
the river. Fadl told me from the mast, before we came to this
corner:—Towards S.S.W., the gohr near the tokuls goes to S.W. Two
large lakes are there, and a village, about an hour distant; the
wood retreats two hours’ distance. To the left of the right shore
also a large lake, half an hour distant, and the trees there indicate
marsh land within three hours’ distance.

At half-past three o’clock we have fortunately navigated round
from N.E. to S.E. On the right we notice, towards S.W., two large
lakes, the first of which, being far off, shews only some tops of
trees as its western shore. We have likewise, on the right shore,
a considerable lake, at half an hour’s distance from us, at our
side. The surface of the earth consists of humus mixed with sand,
and frequently displays a reddish tinge, which makes us infer that
there is iron-ore there. The natives sang yesterday evening, while
they walked along by the side of our men, who were towing, in concert
with them, repeating the eternal refrain, “Ja Mohammed;” to-day,
also, I saw them at the village where we remarked the great gohr,
assisting in towing, with songs and laughter. Although they are not
able to converse with our wags, yet they immediately recognised the
Abu Hashis, when on shore, as such, and joked with them; yet they
were often frightened when the latter assumed a grim countenance
and advanced towards them. The population appears to be very large,
for it is not confined to the border of the river, but extends up
the country, as far as the ground collects the water of the tropical
rains; and the truth of this is verified, not only by ocular evidence,
but also by the statements of the natives found on the border. But
who numbers these dark children of the sun?

Five o’clock. S.W. by S. The river flows from hence on the left
in a bend to W., and has a breadth of five hundred paces. At sunset,
or six o’clock,—for I also set my watch, according to the Turkish
and Arabic manner, at this hour,—we halt E. by S., under the corner
where the river winds round to the right. There is here, on the right,
a pool in distant sunken land, which must form, at the time of the
inundation, a vast level lake. Two villages to S.S.W., one behind
the other, and large herds of cattle in their neighbourhood. Up the
country, on the left, the nearest village is only to be seen from
the mast, and what we perceive to N.E. and N.N.E., is said to be a
large drove of cows. I took a walk to this village: it lies on a gohr,
and is called Aderègh. To judge from the foot-prints of elephants,
it must all have been inundated. As fair winds had set in, we soon
returned on board, and advanced at the rate of three miles an hour
during two hours, to S. and S.W., and cast anchor in S.E., where
the river becomes considerably broader.




                              CHAPTER XI.

NARROW ESCAPE FROM CROCODILES. — ILLNESS OF THE AUTHOR. —
DESCRIPTION OF THE ELEPHANT-TREE. — CUSTOM OF MAKING BEDS ON ASHES
VERY ANCIENT. — SULIMAN KASHEF SHOOTS A CROCODILE. — STRONG
SMELL OF MUSK FROM THESE ANIMALS. — THE TRIBE OF THE ELLIÀBS. —
WAR DANCES. — CHARGE AGAINST ARNAUD. — INJURY TO VESSELS BY
HIPPOPOTAMI. — SULIMAN KASHEF’S CIRCASSIAN SLAVE. — CULTIVATED
LAND. — THE FELATI. — APPEARANCE OF A MOUNTAIN. — TRIBE OF THE
TSHISÈRRS. — STRATA OF THE SHORE. — RICINUS PLANTS. — FOUR
LOWER INCISORS WANTING TO THE NATIVES ON THE SHORES OF THE WHITE
NILE. — AGILITY AND STRENGTH OF THE NEGROES. — MORE MOUNTAINS
APPEAR.


10th January.—Towed to S.E., and, looking back from the mast,
two more villages are visible. On the right shore, a gohr of one
hundred paces broad, projects inland towards N.E. A large village
before us on the same side, surrounded with regular plantations of
tobacco, cotton, creeping beans, and simsim; domestic fowls are also
running about here. We halt soon afterwards at the right shore, where
a village, considerable in length, extends from E. to E.S.E. along
the shore. Two small tokul villages also on the left side. At half
past eight o’clock we bear off again, and at nine we go S.S.E.,
having cultivated places at our side; and at ten o’clock towards
S. On the right shore a gohr of thirty paces in breadth to N.E.;
we also remark dome-palms again. Half past ten o’clock, S.E. by
S. The forest, extending behind the doum-palms to within fifty and
a hundred paces of the shore, appears also in the neighbourhood,
and looks well covered and inviting to the chase. The broad river
is so shallow here that we are obliged to stop in the centre of it,
with our ships still heavily laden, whilst the men towing wade in the
water; they often disappear altogether in the deep, when we come to
these numerous shallows, and emerge again like ducks. There are many
snakes in the water here; no one, however, was bitten by them. The
crocodiles are again very frequently met with in the river, for they
have deserted the pools and lakes.

_11th January._—I have fortunately overcome a violent attack
of illness which overtook me yesterday evening. Such a faintness
seized me in my excursion yesterday, that I was obliged to sit
down. I slept or lay in a swoon; I know not which. I awoke when
it was already dark. A shot was fired near me; I tried to answer,
but my gun flashed in the pan; for I had fired it off in a half
unconscious state, to call for assistance. I dragged myself in the
direction of the shot, and worked through the bushes to the shore,
in order to walk more comfortably on the sand. At last I had the
stream before me: on my left I saw the fires near the ships; but,
by heavens! I was struck with terror, for there was the horrible
sight of more than twenty crocodiles a few paces before me on the
light sand. I had really commenced to count the beasts; but did not,
however, remain long in bivio Herculis, for they began to move,
scenting human flesh. I hastened back into the bushes, plunged
into the holes hollowed out by water, which I had previously tried
to avoid, and arrived without any accident close to the ships. I
heard voices behind me, and recognised my servants, who were in
search of me. They were mourning and reproaching themselves for
having left me. Sale set up a loud howl, because he thought I was
devoured by the crocodiles. They found me on the ground; they had
also been pursued by the beasts. What a poor creature a sick man
is! I hear now, for my consolation, that we had remained in the
same place where we halted yesterday before noon, towards S.S.E.,
owing to the great exhaustion of the crew, and want of wood.

About eleven o’clock at night I began to rave, followed, from all
external symptoms, by a kind of cholera morbus. This attack must have
been dreadful, according to the description of Feïzulla Capitan, who
bravely remained by my side, and shewed that he really has a heart,
as I had seen already when he saved the Tokruri. Although exhausted,
I now find myself tolerably well. We have a small reed-island at our
side: the stream on the right and left is ornamented with a forest,
assuming here quite a different character from the uniformity we
have seen in the country of the Shilluks.

The earlier or spring mimosas were entirely obscured by other trees
with dense foliage; the copsewood, also, has taken another form. The
sun had not yet risen; but I could no longer contain myself, and
therefore landed from the vessel. If I had, last night, given up
the plan of travelling through Africa to the Atlantic Ocean, to-day
I was seized with the old humour and desire when I saw this splendid
woody region extending around me. Among the trees the shudder el fill
(elephant-tree), or medengàn el fill, was distinguished above all
the others. The beautiful clusters of flowers attain the length of
from five to five feet and a half; they are similar to the yellow
lily, but considerably larger, and somewhat curved on one side,
like the nape-piece of a helmet. Forty or fifty of these lilies,
shining magnificently, hang on one string; only half of them, however,
are in flower, whilst the other half are budding. The fruit, similar
in appearance to a thick grey-green cucumber, was already one foot
and a half long, and half a foot thick. When cut open, it is very
like the medengàn, called melinsanes in Greece, and cazzi greci in
Trieste. The bark of the tree is light and smooth; the branches are
a little twisted like those of the walnut-tree, to which it is akin
in its digitate though darker leaves, and may perhaps surpass it in
height. The elephant is said to be very fond of these medengàns,
although they seem uneatable to all other creatures. Whether this be
the Adansonia or monkey’s-bread-tree I venture not to decide. We
shot down several of the fruits, being obliged to pierce through
the upper part of the stalk, which is the thickness of a finger,
with a bullet.

Eight o’clock.—We have felled wood, brought it on board, and
continue our voyage by towing. The river soon forms an angle from
S.S.E. to W.S.W. but it is only to go immediately again to S.S.E. As
we remarked on the shore, the water now visibly falls. Selim Capitan
and Arnaud cannot conceal their fear at having to surmount these
obstacles, so as not to be devoured by the natives on our return
voyage, which they would rather now commence. Such shallows are
certainly disagreeable; but as they merely occupy certain tracts, it
is only necessary, surely, to leave behind a portion of the freight
on the other vessels, and to fetch them afterwards by degrees:
this is evident, even to the commander. Sandbanks stretch from
hence to the middle of the river. At nine o’clock to S.; on the
left an island. The wood continues cheerfully on the right shore;
on the left, however, it has disappeared. Half-past nine o’clock,
S.S.W., and on the left a village.

The shores are strata of mixed humus, and the sand layer is quite
clear. I remarked on the lower margin of a steep and broken shore
a stratum of burnt reeds, and the intersection of a large hill of
ashes, which proves clearly, like the tombs in the rocks of Silsili,
in Egypt, that the stream here also sunk deeper formerly. The custom
of making beds on the ashes is, therefore, very ancient, and the
burning of the reeds is compelled by necessity. We halt near a
village of about forty tokuls, and again wait for meat. There were
only a few people to be seen, who stood, or squatted there quietly:
at last they collected together, and formed a large column. Stretching
up their hands in the air, holding a reed, or an ambak-tree, which
is as light as a cork, though it looks like a fearful club, they
made short quick marches up and down, and a sudden simultaneous
facing about, in honour of us. The women ran behind this chorus,
shouting and screaming as in Germany.

About eleven o’clock we set out to S.W. by S. A gohr cuts off an
island equally narrow, overgrown with grass, at our left hand. At the
head of the little island the river winds to S. On the right here is
a pastoral village. At twelve o’clock, S.E. by E., and round the
left by S.E. The north-east wind freshens a little, and we go without
libàhn, if not quicker, yet more comfortably. A large semicircle is
formed, and we go, at half-past twelve o’clock, from an easterly
direction again to S.W. On the left shore, a troop of some twenty
negroes squat, holding cows and calves for us by a cord. Beads are
dear to them above everything. These blameless Ethiopians will not
even receive gold and silver, the chimerical value of which they
know not; and it is only stupidity that laughs at them in pity.

From the mast:—two pastoral villages behind the right shore; four
more farther on, before the Haba, which forms a semicircle. The
forest makes its appearance again before us, on both sides of the
river. The latter separates into two arms, each having directly about
two hundred paces in breadth; these form a little island, which
we leave at our right side. The island is full of high sprouting
plants and vegetables, between blooming shrubs. At one o’clock
we arrive S.E. by E., and with E. to the point of the island. On
the precipitous shores stand the different kinds of trees; among
them the doum-palms, poison, and elephant-trees, are particularly
distinguished, in picturesque confusion.

The left shore forms here at the corner, where the river winds S.W.,
a strip of sand, cutting into the river-bed, here only about one
hundred and fifty paces broad, and on account of this we are obliged
to sail close to the right shore. However, the river increased again
immediately to S. W., up to three hundred paces in breadth. On the
right also the Haba approaches, having but few trees, but before
us it is well covered, and extends to the border of the stream
itself. Five miserable tokuls stand under a large shady tree, which
imparts a peculiar effect to the spot by its unusual masses of shade
in this land of the sun. Some natives are sitting quietly under it,
and seem to be fishermen. Two o’clock, S.S.E. We have the point of
an island covered with reeds, in the middle of the river. Although I
dread the mid-day sun after yesterday’s attack, which reminds me of
a similar one in Taka, yet I venture upon deck, and see an island on
the left. The arm embracing it has already shrunk to a large pool, and
behind are the old or high shores, overlaid by sloping, grass-covered
rubbish, as with a green mat. Where these shores formerly fell away
steep into the water, they were twenty feet high, and were still
raised in a similar angle towards the interior. The shores of the
island are also about eight feet high, and I can easily calculate
this, the shores being so close, for we have a plumb-line on board.

At three o’clock we advance close to the left shore, to let the men
dine, for we have only laid aside the rope for a very short time, in
consequence of the slack wind. The river becomes narrow at the corner,
S.S.E., where it turns to the right. I also remark here again one of
those gohrs, which, being from two to three feet high, conduct the
high water, as canals, over the present water-mark, through the low
country, because the river-bed is clearly too narrow—its shores
being elevated here on both sides to two gradations—to carry away
the whole mass of the White Stream, at the time of its inundation. We
have also again the pleasing sight of the herds going to the river,
over the ridge of sand, which must be considered at these high shores,
as a road to the water. Eight white, well-fed calves, being the last,
went away, to my astonishment, unmolested, our men not taking it into
their heads to seize them. There is no leaving off at noon to dine,
but one-half of the crew eats whilst the other tows the ship. About
three o’clock we work away over the shallows, and at last the
temptation cannot be resisted of taking some calves on board.

Four o’clock. We have the sand-banks behind us, to our good fortune,
and we go S.S.W. The Haba close on the right shore, where we noticed
six summer-houses and a gohr, eight feet above the water, is now
separated from us about two hundred paces by a low country exposed to
the inundations. The left old shore, with its generally scanty wood,
has drawn close to the river itself, and is only ten to twelve feet
high. Now, perhaps, the river will remain enclosed in the very narrow
limits of the old shores, and not make these arbitrary serpentine
windings, giving the result of a vast development of streams, but
placing an incredible obstacle in the road to our pressing forward to
the sources of the Nile themselves. We land at five o’clock, even
before sun-set, on the left shore, for the men can go on no more,
having laboured the whole day at the libàhn; the hoisted sails,
therefore, are as good as useless, though they may have appeared
very imposing to the natives.

A number of ash-grey people have collected near the village,
and their chief is invested magnificently because he is to give
ivory. From the elevated shore we see far in the low country, where
the smoke appeared like a large lake. I was to suffer to-night for
having exposed myself in the day, for a short time, to the heat of
the sun. The sinking sun seemed to make my hair stand on end in a
peculiar manner, and to set every single hair _en rapport_ with its
rays. I could scarcely return to the vessel.

_12th January._—Happy those who have enjoyed a refreshing sleep
to-night! I could not get any, and yet was so weary; fantastic forms
plagued me the whole night; there is a restlessness in my nervous
system, so that I get little comfort. Yet I brush up my strength,
and write my journal; but I find it difficult, and cannot do much.

Before day-break, when some wind shewed itself, we set out, but
again at sun-rise, the cry is “Libàhn.” S.S.E. At our left,
the islands seen yesterday, the first of which is small, the second
may be half an hour long. The wood stands on both sides upon the
shore, which is twelve to fifteen feet high, in lively freshness
and variety of colours. Mist is hovering about, and clouds prevent
the sun from appearing.

Opposite to the large island is a gohr on the left shore, forty to
fifty feet wide, apparently in connection with a lake behind the
Haba. Half-past eight o’clock. S.W., but in a curve to S. I hear
a shot before us, and they tell me that Suliman Kashef has killed,
_at one shot_, a large crocodile on the sandy promontory of the right
shore, so that it never moved from the spot after being struck. We
tarry there till half-past nine o’clock, for Suliman Kashef presents
the skin of the beast to Arnaud; but the latter scarcely retains the
back-shield. As there is plenty of other meat, the men scorn to cut
off its tail, and eat it according to the custom of the country. My
servants, however, who knew that I had already tasted this sort
of meat in Khartùm, as also in Taka, a snake, which a dervish had
dressed himself, cut off a slice for me. Even had I not been ill,
the smell of musk it exhaled, and which was not lost, though cooked
with hay, was so repulsive to me, that they were obliged to throw
it over board immediately. At first it appeared to me incredible
that mariners should scent from afar the presence of a crocodile;
but on my journey from Káhira to Sennaar, my own olfactories,
when they offered me in Korusko a young one for sale, had become
very sensitive to the odour of this beast.

At our entrance into the Blue Stream, I could smell the crocodiles,
lying at a distance of six hundred paces off upon a sand-bank at
the mouth of the White Stream, before I had seen them. The glands
containing a secretion like musk, are situated in the hinder part, as
in the civet-cats, (viverra civetta), domesticated in Bellet Sudàn,
known here by the name of sabàt. These animals are kept in cages
for the purpose of collecting the favourite perfume, called here
musk or moschus.

Ten o’clock. S. by W. The river winds to the left; on the right
an island with a village, separated by a narrow arm from the left
side of the river. We sail with a good north-east wind, and make
four miles. The poor negroes run as fast as they can to obtain a
few beads, but in vain. On the left also an island.

Four o’clock. S.S.E. A short tract to S., and again to the left,
S.E. We do not see the Haba of the left shore from the cabin; on the
right it is divided from the river by a fore-shore. Soon afterwards,
on the left shore, a village, with a solitary dhelleb-palm; the
houses with a little pointed roof of straw, as in the tokuls;
but the wall protruding in the centre, like a thick cask standing
upright—another nation, therefore—that of the Elliàbs. At
half-past eleven, again S.E.

_15th January._—These are the days of trial; what avails good will,
and a firm heart? I am still very weak, and cannot sit up. The
negroes, since daybreak, have been singing their bold songs,
and continue their war-dances, with quick or slow evolutions, in
columns: their leaders are at their head, making threatening motions,
wildly and freely, and inflaming the courage of their men by sudden
broken chaunts, which the chorus then takes up. They clearly want
to pay us respect by these manœuvres, for their rapid march is not
directed against us; they do not appear to me to be the enemies we
were informed of some days since, for they try with all their might
to gain our friendship, and bring a number of cows to us.

I look at my journal, and thought I had been so ill since _yesterday_
at noon that I was not able to continue it to the evening. To my most
supreme astonishment, however, I hear from Feïzulla Capitan and my
servants, that this yesterday dates _from the 12th of January_, and
that they believed I was going to die. I remember very well, however,
that I once saw Thibaut sitting on Feïzulla Capitan’s bed, and
conjured him solemnly to send the doctor to bleed me. I sent out also
my men to look, for one of them told me that Thibaut had not gone
on board the doctor’s vessel, but on that of the Frenchmen. The
doctor appeared, a perfectly black Shaigië, who had received the
finishing stroke, as an accomplished alipta, under Clot Bey. Arnaud
came immediately afterwards, to try on me his sleight of hand in
phlebotomy. As I had got my brother to mark the point where to lance,
so that I might do it myself in case of necessity, and had touched up
the same with ink, every now and then, I allowed Arnaud more willingly
to perform the operation, the black doctor having already worried me
with his chattering. I trembled too much myself to undertake it with
my own hand. I lay there at night, and a feeling came over me as if
my whole body were pulsating, and I was myself moved up and down
by the pulses. I did not dare to close my eyes, for fear of being
tormented by those indescribable phantasies; I perceived only too
well that Arnaud had not taken away sufficient blood. Willingly would
I have had now a helping hand, but every one was asleep, and I could
not call because I had lost my voice. I therefore undid the bandage,
moved my arm vigorously about, and let the blood flow out of window;
I felt I was much better, but was afraid of falling in a swoon and
bleeding to death, when all at once a bright thought struck me:
I took one of the large ivory rings lying near me, drew it over
the hand, and so tight over the compress, which I had again put on,
that they were obliged in the morning to cut it to pieces on my arm.

To my great consolation I heard that we had remained from twelve
o’clock at noon in a south-easterly direction on the average,
and at five o’clock had landed on a place where we remained till
four o’clock yesterday evening, and then had come on as far as
here, said to be only a short tract. Selim Capitan told me that we
had only made on the 12th fifteen miles. The Frenchmen do not wish
me to annoy myself about this gap in my diary, and promised me all
possible _éclaircissement_ from their own journals; but they found,
however, subsequently, excuses to shuffle off, and I must therefore
survey this tract more accurately on the return voyage. Suliman
Kashef also had fallen sick in the very same hour I did, and was
just as long delirious; on his account, therefore, the crew had kept
quiet. I hear, to my astonishment, that Arnaud is accused of having
tried to poison the Kashef and myself out of one and the same goblet,
on the day before our simultaneous illness, because he himself had
drank from another the last time we were with him. It was only with
difficulty that I could persuade Suliman Kashef to divest himself of
this unhappy idea; and it was by the following means I principally
effected it:—I took precipitate powder from Arnaud, in water,
before his face.

We go S.S.E., and after sun-rise S.E. On the left the head of an
island discloses itself, if the gohr going to the N.E. is a Nile
arm. Here also the people have collected, singing, and jumping
backwards and forwards, in three files, as far as their strength
will allow them, for they have not got a rag of clothes on their
backs. A land promontory, jutting out from the right shore, brings
us at last, after much labour, from S.E. to E. by N. A hippopotamus
has just injured our doctor’s vessel so much that it would have
sunk if it had not been aground on the sand. Yesterday evening also,
when we were lying at anchor, a similar river-buffalo struck our
large vessel with such force, that not being in the best condition,
it made an uncomfortable motion, and roused immediately all our
attention to examine the hold. We advance a little, and suddenly
there is a cry that there is no water-course before us. I take this
statement to be a knavish trick of the Reïs, whose duty it is to
sound, and who pretend this in order to get back the sooner to their
wives at Khartùm. I have expressed this opinion to Feïzulla Capitan,
and begged of him to go to the two commanders.

I have good reason to fear that the invalid Suliman Kashef would
rather be waited upon in his hàrim, at Kàrreri, than here by
his Turks, although he has a young Circassian girl in the second
cabin, who durst not leave the narrow space she is confined in,
notwithstanding my intercession. The second time I was on board
Suliman Kashef’s vessel, I was looking at his arrangements,
just as the eunuch standing in the corner had gone out to fetch
water; quite by accident, I opened the door of the second cabin,
and saw there this pale, but beautiful girl, lying on the carpet,
in a gauze chemise and trowsers. Suliman Kashef called out as if the
devil possessed him, “Hàrim! Hàrim!” on which excusing myself,
I naturally retreated, and he burst out into a loud laugh. Thus
this poor creature sat in a cage, in which there was hardly room for
her bed. The air entering but sparingly through the closed Venetian
blinds, was obliged to suffice her day and night, for she was not
even allowed to look out at the scenery.

There are several negroes on the right shore, who have a different
language to that of the Elliàbs, and are called Tshièrrs. They
sing and shout as much as they can, to induce us to receive their
presents of cattle.

The shores in this region are not mixed with strata of sand in
horizontal, but in undulatory layers, which may prove that a more
violent influx into the reed-lakes took place here formerly, than
in the present day. We navigate at four o’clock a short tract
to E. and S.E., and immediately S.W. At sun-set, from S. to E. At
the left a broad arm to N., perhaps having the main stream, for it
shews here hardly any fall. We halt at the right shore, and take
other natives from hence, for the purpose of acting as interpreters,
instead of the former ones. From the mast is seen, on the left shore,
two cities, and the great Haba, half an hour distant.

_16th January._—I have passed a dreadful night, continually raving,
and so far as I believe, I have not slept a minute. It was not till
after sun-rise that we go with libàhn to E. by N.; an hour later
S.E. Whilst I am counting seven villages on the left shore, along
a dry gohr or Nile arm, I see on the right only one village. At
half-past nine o’clock we sail S. by W. Ten o’clock.—The
right shore is entirely covered with houses; thus the whole country
presents, in a yet unseen extent, a cheerful cultivation of durra,
simsim, tobacco, and lubiën (the phasels, or white beans, so
frequently met with in the land of Sudàn). We see continually
on the shores the ricinus and ushàr (_asclepias procera_), with
luxuriant leaves, as well as the rigli, or purslane, which grows
wild also in the gardens of Khartùm, and was our usual salad. At
noon N.E., where a city on the right shore extended; then E.,
and subsequently S.E. Here I see, for the first time, the natives
washing. Notwithstanding the proximity of the water, they make no
regular custom of washing themselves, as is only too plainly seen by
their bodies covered with ashes. They bring us large ivory tusks, as
they did previously, and these were purchased in favour of government,
for a few beads. Two o’clock.—On the right shore a large village,
with a different sort of tokuls; and we go from N. by E. to S. It is
unquestionable that there is an enormous population in this country
of the Tshièrrs. The people have a friendly physiognomy, and the
form of the face is more spherical than that of the other tribes.

_17th January._—We halted yesterday evening close to a large
city on the left shore, and remained there till eight o’clock
this morning. This delay was caused by the natives constantly
dragging down elephants’ tusks to us. The tokuls are like sheds,
but barricaded round about with thick stakes, probably on account
of the wild beasts. My European companions are very anxious about
my health, and wish me not to write. They will lend a hand to
me in every thing—very cunning of them! On the right and left
villages. An island on the left shore, at least a gohr, enters into
the land there; but where tarries the other gohr or Nile arm, that
we saw four days ago? From E.S.E. to S.E. The north wind is better
to-day than yesterday, when it set in, so desirable to me in my
invalid state, and we make three miles. On the right shore a Haba,
sometimes retreating a little, sometimes approaching. An innumerable
crowd of negroes stood at the before-mentioned bend of the river,
but we sail proudly by, without throwing out beads, and exciting
the desire of such a mass of human beings for our glass riches. The
people cultivate their fields, and are really better fed, but appear
not to be equally particular about washing. The shores of the Nile
are twelve to fifteen feet high, and there prevails a crumbling
humus, easily rubbed to powder; always strongly, however, mixed with
sand. These men, moreover, not only produce the fruits above alluded
to, but also gàra and battigh (gourds and water-melons). Iron rings
on the arms and feet seem to be regarded here with more respect than
ivory rings. We leave two islands, of about two hours in length,
at our side; they are also cultivated. As the country becomes more
interesting, I feel myself happily a little better, and this may
partly arise from the clearer air.

The natives say that the Felati, who wear clothing or rags (sharmuta),
like our men, are only a few days’ journey from us to the west. I
hear that these Felati, like the Tokruri, from Darfùr, being Muslims,
make the pilgrimage to Mecca. It is certain that they do not take
the road traversed by us, for nothing is known of them in Khartùm:
it appears to me more likely that they join the pilgrim caravan
of Burnu, and distribute themselves in the neighbourhood of the
Nile, the better to beg their way through. Subsequently I became
acquainted with a slave in Khartùm, who had come to the land of
Sudàn, through Burnù. Felati means there dissolute roving men,
such as these Tokruri, from the interior of Africa, generally are. It
is thought that we shall meet with these Felati, and this is the
more desired by me, because, as they partly speak Arabic, I could
ask them questions myself, and should have no need of two or three
interpreters, who translate in a careless manner one to the other.

Twelve o’clock. S.S.E. The stream is, as I predicted, more
constant in its old limits, which have approached closer to us;
we have generally a south-easterly direction. On the right also the
wood is near, and I am curious to survey some of the beautiful green
trees. The natives have brought us goats and sheep, but no cows;
and do not seem to wish to give them. We have a small island on
our left, and on the right the lower end of another, though we have
not seen its commencement. Village connects itself to village, with
broad low tokuls. We go from the south, where, on the left, through
a simsim-field, separated from the river, stands a stately village,
with reed palisadoes, to S.E. There ends the little island, and two
other sandy ones immediately join on. Eight women are standing on
the downs of the right shore before their village, and comfortably
smoke their pipes. The isolated trees, with their beautiful branches
and soft green foliage, have a very cheerful look. The simsim,
cut-down, is regularly fixed together, like an arbour, in order to
be dried. S.W., on the left, an island.

The shores are intersected with sandy strips. The larger tokul-roofs
have an irregular form, with horns on the top, mistaken by the Turks
for the crescent; they appear, however, to be the branches of the tree
standing in the middle of the tokul. It is the gable of the house;
and possibly we may look here for an adoration of animals bearing
horns. On the right an island with beautiful foliage upon it; the
channel is not broader than double the length of our vessel. To the
left there is an island, and opposite it a mere deposit of an island,
quite lively and verdant in the water; the river is again broader. On
the right, and shortly afterwards on the left, two islands end,
though we have not observed their lower part. Either they had not
any water there, and were easily overlooked, or the stream branches
so that we can scarcely form an idea of it. I look upon this portion
of the White River, in regard to its uncommon mass of waters, with
still greater respect, as a phenomenon difficult to be solved.

It is three o’clock. S. by W. Do I hear rightly?—they are speaking
of _Gebl_—how that sound thrills to my heart! I call, but no one
listens to me, for all are standing upon deck, and looking towards
the mountain, which is said to be very large. In spite of the sun,
and all remonstrances, I drag myself up on deck, and see the mountain
to S.W., at a distance of about twenty hours. It seems to form an
accumulation towards one point, and may surely be the forerunner of
other mountains; therefore, after all, there are mountains of the
moon. City crowds on city; and the Egyptians look out from the mast
for herds of cattle, which are not, however, numerous. An innumerable
population moves on the shores; to express their number our crew say,
“Ketir, saie el tubàhn” (as many as flies); and we sail always,
Allah Kerim, by the shore, which is quite black with people, who
are standing as if benumbed with astonishment.

Four o’clock. From S.S.E. to S.S.W. The north-east wind good for
four miles. It seems as if we were going to the chain of mountains,
or, at least, coming nearer to it. Two days ago the natives whom we
asked knew nothing of any mountain on the river. The river again
becomes majestic at this bend, and gives us every favourable hope
by its water-mark. On the right a small island, and another lies
likewise planted in the middle of the river before us.

Five o’clock. S.W., and to S. An island on the left shore, where
a gohr enters far into the land; then on the left a small island
in our river, round which we proceed on the right, in order to come
to the supposed gohr, which soon shews itself to be a main stream,
flowing here S.E., and therefore not forming an island. Still there
is an uncomfortable feeling at finding myself near the Equator in
Central Africa, and being ill at the same time. Every man has his
home, and this is frequently confined to such narrow limits that
there is, properly speaking, only _one_ favourite place in life. I
was never a gourmand; but _sauerkraut_, now fresh from the tub—and
I should be well on the spot.

At half-past five o’clock, from S.E. to S.S.W., and shortly
afterwards S., and again S.S.W. I see strings of white beads, that
may have been introduced by the Felati already mentioned; for the
White Stream itself does not seem, up to this moment, to form any
road of communication to the tribes who are ever at war with each
other. From E.S.E. to S. by W., where we halt at sunset, and I go
on shore. The Tshièrrs, possessing both shores here, are a very
handsome race of men; tall, strongly built, and well fed. There is
a good nature and courtesy in their behaviour, shewing, in itself,
external cultivation. I can scarcely persuade myself that I am
in the middle of Africa. The “stipes Æthiops,” as the Romans
called it, always falls away the further we ascend the river. This
type, indigenous particularly to the Dinkas, has not only entirely
disappeared, but a nobler and more natural motion in the limbs has
taken its place. Every one of these people wears a small wooden fife
round his neck, having three tones. They say that the strings of glass
beads they wear come _from above_ (gèbeli, min fok), pointing up
the river to the south. It almost seems as if there were a connection
between these countries and the Atlantic Ocean. Although these people
are armed with clubs, spears, bows, and poisoned arrows, yet there is
something in the natural disposition of the human heart that prevents
even our men from giving way to fear at a distance, but they take
very good care not to offend the kind commoners of nature in any way.

_18th January._—Another bad night. Even now, at Asser, I have not
recovered. The Frenchmen, indeed, have paid me a visit, consoled
me with empty words, but cast looks at one another, the meaning of
which I so well understood that I assured them there was no danger;
I should see my brother again, whom I just at this moment missed
very much. We sail, on the whole, S.W., see six to seven islands,
and approach nearer to the high mountain. This afternoon I saw, on
the left, a little gohr, which discharges itself with a strong fall
into the river: they tell me, from the mast, that a second one is
lost again beyond the right shore. It appears, therefore, to be fed
by our water-course, whilst the other is a subordinate arm of the Nile
from above, or a tributary stream. Four o’clock. From N.N.W. to E. A
large city at some distance from the left shore. An incredible number
of people, who go here also quite naked, are dancing and singing on
both shores: our course is really a constant triumphant march. The
bears on the vessels will half kill themselves with laughing. We have
likewise here that sharp piercing cry which we are so frequently
compelled to hear in Lower Egypt, at marriages and other festivals
of the kind. This “Kullelullullulu” is therefore, perhaps, of
Ethiopian origin, and recalls involuntarily to our mind the descent
of tribes from the Highlands. To the right of the city a small island
follows, and a pretty wood extends over the margin of the river.

Half-past four o’clock. On the right and left an island; and
notwithstanding the breadth of the river, we have still a good
water-course, which has increased here in rapidity, a sure sign that
we shall come at least to higher regions. The poison-tree is still
abundant, and does not seem to be considered dangerous even by these
people of free nature; we see it even standing close to their huts. It
is not yet sun-set. There is singing, with dancing, and clapping
of hands, even far into the water itself,—a truly black joy: the
women with their sharp “kulle,” the men with their bass voices,
the boys with their treble, and the barking of dogs between whiles,
so that I can scarcely hold my pen, and know not where to fly to for
peace. They drag calves behind them, and swim towards us, whereby the
greatest part of the glass beads thrown to them fall into the water,
and there is a monstrous noise and splashing in picking them up. I
was sorry for the beautifully-formed young girls, who went away
empty-handed in this crowding and wrestling of thousands. With the
most amiable countenance they pointed to their necks, shewing that
they had no beads there. They were all laughing and in good spirits,
and shouted to us “Màdam!” said to be a title of honour.

_19th January._—We navigate this morning with a gentle north-east
wind to the south, and shortly afterwards have those grass-islands
at our side that lay yesterday evening before us. Here the natives
offer us every thing: weapons, certainly the dearest thing to them;
arrows and bows, long spears, light javelins, and their ornaments,
consisting mostly of iron rings! And all this for miserable Venetian
conterie, which perhaps may serve for a long time as an article of
commerce with the inhabitants of the interior of Africa. The sky
lowers, and was yesterday also somewhat clouded. The river is here
universally four hundred paces broad.

When I look on the soil, I find that it is either percolated with
sand, and forms a perforated black mass, like the humus in Nubia,
or that the layers, being still unchequered or unworked, are disposed
in strata one over the other, sand over humus, and _this_ over mixed
earth, &c., but in thicker deposits than we are accustomed to see
in other parts of the Nile. The undulating direction of these layers
shews a stronger water-way, and a more vigorous forcing on and off of
liquid soil. I am now not at all doubtful of a high land. Another
shallow island joins on to the above-named green river meadow,
over which the neighbouring wood peeps forth refreshingly, with
a large village. The natives accompanying us are brought, by the
partition of the shore, to a place from whence they cannot advance;
they stand and stamp and dance, always upon one spot, some holding
a spear, or bow and arrow, in their hands, some a long stick, and
others without anything. They sing in alternate song, and raise at
the same time one or both hands in the air, or stretch themselves
towards us, and draw the arm back again.

Eight o’clock. From S., a short tract to S.E., and then E. and
N.E. Isolated, strong, ricinus plants, are distinguished by their
dark foliage from the other vegetation, which is beginning here also
to wither. On the whole it is wonderfully verdant on all sides,
to which perhaps the heavy dew may mostly contribute. The people
here have better teeth, but the four lower incisors are wanting,
according to the custom of the country.

Nine o’clock, S.S.E. On the right shore stands one of those
beautifully foliated, large trees, which I have not yet seen close,
but which appears to be a species of Robinia. A large company of
blacks, smoking long pipes, have collected under this tree. The little
boys are excessively merry, blowing in concert their fifes, jumping
and greeting, the latter meant for our boys, whose look pleases
them more than our bearded faces. The green Haba of the right shore
accompanies us cheerfully; the long procession coming out of the wood,
to look at the strangers, indicates a very numerous population. Who
could believe that there was in Africa this aquatic abundance, this
fresh verdure, and this moderate heat, the thermometer having been
for some days not above twenty-five degrees? At noon from S.E. to
S.W. The river winds, however, immediately again to S., in which
direction we generally return in the afternoon. The stream is about
six hundred paces broad, and has a depth of three to three fathoms
and a half. Here must we journey on, as far as our old planks will
allow us, in order to reach its sources with the wind, which is
mostly slack. The shallow island we already saw this morning does
not end till about two o’clock, and the arm embracing it is broad,
and so deep that the negroes accompanying us on shore are obliged
to swim. An island deposit lies at its head, and will soon perhaps
be united to it. Immediately afterwards, on the left shore, a large
summer or pastoral village; on the right and left, singing and jumping
of men, women, and children. Our mountain, of a dark-blue colour,
on the right, suddenly looked into my window, and surprised me not
a little. We sail S.S.E., with two miles rapidity. On the left is
a gohr to S.S.E., into which the people plunge with loud huzzaing,
so that they may accompany us a little longer. No beads are given
gratis; the poor people must run, make the Turks laugh first,
and give them entertainment, before it is determined to throw on
shore these glass bits of paste, though Selim Capitan possesses an
enormous stock of them, and then this _generosity_ is only for the
sake of seeing the bustle and noise of the great children.

Three o’clock. On the left an island, and the other arm embracing
it, divides immediately a whole troop of people, with their bullocks,
from our road; but there are huts and blacks enough on the island
itself. We go W., and the mountain lies S.W. of us, as it appears,
in its entire longitudinal profile, although we could not distinguish
clefts or precipices. The scarpe, on the southern side, ascends
to a height nearly equal to one of the ridges, makes a concave
vibration towards this, and falls gently to the west on a break,
rising precipitously only a little above the horizon. We see even
from here that it is a mountain of moderate size.

Four o’clock. The high mountain lies W.S.W. of us, and, to my joy,
I hear from the mast that another mountain, far higher, rises behind
it to S.W., with three peaks (Tshokka, fork, spike). It must therefore
belong to a high land, as I have already hoped.

The women sing their “kulle,” and throw the upper part of their
bodies from one side to the other. I saw also the men here shake
their chests with such agility and force, as I had never witnessed
in the dances of the Arabs. How inferior all our gymnastics are
to the natural nimbleness, and lion and tiger-like flexibility of
these freely developed limbs! I see one negro jump up from the ground
against another, with a piercing cry; he turns himself round whilst
flying in the air, and stands with a raised spear—I might say
upon his toe, bent forward for the combat—but he is immediately
again appeased by the other. This was a pirouette, worthy of the
plastic skill and hand of an artist. In the space of an hour, two
other mountains in the south, we ourselves going southerly, are
announced to me. On the right and left villages continue, but we see
only here and there the top of a tokul, because they do not stand on
the extreme higher margin of the shore. Large herds of cows glisten
forth from the Haba close at hand, and others are scrambling down
to the river to drink. This wooded region, directly on the stream,
the proximity of the mountains,—we shall see what beautiful and
wonderful things yet the interior of Africa may contain; and I will
endure every thing, because I feel strengthened and excited by the
mountain air blowing down upon me.

There are some trees as green as beeches in May, and having the
wide-spread branches of oaks. Immediately afterwards, a large
village with flat tokuls: the right shore presents here, in truth,
a charming sight. One tree, I remark, having some similarity to
the linden in its foliage, spreading out its boughs like fans,
in fantastical forms, and standing there oddly. On the right and
left are several villages, and also an island on the right side
of the river. On the left shore, a large tokul city, with a large
and small island in the river before it. The tokuls have nearly a
pointed roof, but appear to be carefully built. A number of people
have accumulated there, and I hear the “kullelu” quite plainly,
trilling, in the sharpest treble, the accent “Ih, ih, ih.”

We halt, in a southerly direction, at sun-set, in the middle of the
river, not to be annoyed by the natives, and to avoid all provocation
on the part of the crew. The country is still a real paradise, and
the durra is putting forth its shoots, to give a second crop. It
must not be supposed that the fields have a regular form; on the
contrary, every thing looks as if it grew of its own accord, without
sowing. The trees stand in such strength, as though they had no need
of water; and the human beings shew, by their more noble appearance,
that they enjoy a generous nourishment.


                       END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.


                                LONDON:
              Printed by S. & J. BENTLEY and HENRY FLEY,
                       Bangor House, Shoe Lane.




FOOTNOTES:


[Footnote 1: Renard the Fox. This refers to the celebrated old
German satire on the intrigues practised at a weak court. It
appeared at Lubeck in 1498, and nothing is known, with certainty,
of its author. Goethe has admirably rendered a part of it into
Hexameters.—_Translator_.]

[Footnote 2: Subsequently I was convinced, by reading over more
carefully a letter which I had received from my brother (as a last
remembrance, containing careful recipes for my health) just as
I was embarking, that Ahmed Basha and Suliman Kashef had spoken
the truth, and that the latter was really nominated chief of the
expedition by the viceroy. This journal (kept by the renegade Rustum
Effendi, a native of Navarino) had given greater satisfaction than
Selim-Capitan’s numerous figures, &c. The Kashef confessed to me
openly that he would now take his ease, and let the others do what
they liked, for he was no maendes (engineer).]

[Footnote 3: A thaler is about 3_s._ English.]

[Footnote 4: Each degree of Réaumur is equal to 2⅑ of one of
Fahrenheit. To change, therefore, Réaumur into Fahrenheit, multiply
the given number of degrees of Réaumur by 9, and divide the product
by 4, the quotient must be added to 32°, and the sum will be the
equivalent sought.]

[Footnote 5: The miles, during this voyage, are English sea-miles,
or knots. (Trans.)]

[Footnote 6: _Sauerbraten._—The well known decoction of beef
steeped in vinegar, which is served up at every table d’hôte
in Germany.—_Transl._]

[Footnote 7: A Parisian or French foot is equal to 1·066 English.]

[Footnote 8: A Rhenish foot is equal to 1·030 English. (Transl.)]




Transcriber's note:


  pg v_bis Changed: HUSSEÏN AA’S DRINKING to: AGA’S

  pg 51 Changed: exept by Vaissière to: except

  pg 78 Changed: Kabbalish Arabs to: Kabbabish

  pg 88 Changed: Sahèbesha to: Schèbesha

  pg 89 Changed: the left hore to: shore

  pg 95 Changed: Philœ to: Philæ

  pg 95 Changed: Wadi Shiler to: Shileï

  pg 147 Changed: _Andansonia digitata_ to _Adansonia_

  pg 184 Changed: latitude yesterday was 80° to: 8°

  pg 190 Changed: their countyman’s statement to: countryman’s

  pg 209 Changed: latitude is 70° 48′ to: 7°

  pg 213 Changed: severel deep foot-prints to: several

  pg 221 Changed: HUSSEÏN AA’S DRINKING to: AGA’S

  pg 234 Changed: neigbouring reeds to: neighbouring

  pg 234 Changed: accord-to to: according to

  pg 305 Changed: of unusal size to: unusual

  pg 321 Changed: without any accdent to: accident

  Minor changes in punctuation have been done silently.

  Other spelling inconsistencies have been left unchanged.