The heart of Africa, Vol. II (of 2)

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Title: The heart of Africa, Vol. II (of 2)
Author: Schweinfurth, Georg
Language: English
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[Illustration: KING MUNZA IN FULL DRESS.]

THE

HEART OF AFRICA.

THREE YEARS’ TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES

IN THE UNEXPLORED REGIONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.

FROM 1868 TO 1871.

DR. GEORG SCHWEINFURTH.

TRANSLATED BY ELLEN E. FREWER.
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY WINWOOD READE.

_IN TWO VOLUMES._

VOL. II.

WITH MAPS AND WOODCUT ILLUSTRATIONS.

LONDON:
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, LOW, AND SEARLE.
CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.
1873.

_All rights reserved._

LONDON:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

CONTENTS.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XIII.

The NIAM-NIAM—Signification of the name—General characteristics—
Distinct nationality—Complexion and tattooing—Time spent on
hair-dressing—_Frisure à la gloire_—Favourite adornments—
Weapons—Soldierly bearing—A nation of hunters—Women
agriculturists—The best beer in Africa—Cultivated plants—
Domestic animals—Dogs—Preparation of maize—Cannibalism—
Analogy with the Fans of the West Coast—Architecture—Power of
the princes—Their households—Events during war—Immunity of the
white man—Wanton destruction of elephants—Bait for wild-fowl—
Arts and manufactures—Forms of greeting—Position of the women—
An African pastime—Musical taste—Professional jesters and
minstrels—Praying-machine—Auguries—Mourning for the dead—
Disposal of the dead—Genealogical table of Niam-niam
princes Page 1

CHAPTER XIV.

Mohammed’s friendship for Munza—Invitation to an audience—Solemn
escort to the royal halls—Waiting for the king—Architecture
of the halls—Grand display of ornamental weapons—Fantastic
attire of the sovereign—Features and expression—Stolid
composure—Offering gifts—_Toilette_ of Munza’s wives—The
king’s mode of smoking—Use of the cola-nut—Musical performances—
Court fool—Court eunuch—Munza’s oration—Monbuttoo hymn—
Munza’s gratitude—A present of a house—Curiosity of natives—
Skull-market—Niam-niam envoys—Fair complexion of natives—Visit
from Munza’s wives—Triumphal procession—A bath under
_surveillance_—Discovery of the sword-bean—Munza’s castle
and private apartments—Reserve on geographical subjects—
Non-existence of Piaggia’s lake—My dog exchanged for a pygmy—
Goats of the Momvoo—Extract of meat—Khartoomers’ stations
in Monbuttoo country—Mohammed’s plan for proceeding southwards—
Temptation to penetrate farther towards interior—Money and good
fortune—Great festival—Cæsar dances—Munza’s visits—The
Guinea-hog—My washing-tub 37

CHAPTER XV.

The MONBUTTOO—Previous accounts of the Monbuttoo—Population—
Surrounding nations—Neglect of agriculture—Products of the
soil—Produce of the chase—Forms of greeting—Preparation of
food—Universal cannibalism—National pride and warlike spirit—
Power of the sovereign—His habits—The royal household—Advanced
culture of the Monbuttoo—Peculiarities of race—Fair hair and
complexion—Analogy to the Fulbe—Preparation of bark—Nudity of
the women—Painting of the body—_Coiffure_ of men and women—
Mutilation not practised—Equipment of warriors—Manipulation of
iron—Early knowledge of copper—Probable knowledge of platinum—
Tools—Wood-carving—Stools and benches—Symmetry of water-
bottles—Large halls—Love of ornamental trees—Conception of
Supreme Being 80

CHAPTER XVI.

The PYGMIES—Nubian stories—Ancient classical allusions—Homer,
Herodotus, Aristotle—My introduction to Pygmies—Adimokoo
the Akka—Close questioning—War-dance—Visits from many Akka—
Mummery’s Pygmy corps—My adopted Pygmy—Nsewue’s life and death—
Dwarf races of Africa—Accounts of previous authors: Battel,
Dapper, Kölle—Analogy of Akka with Bushmen—Height and
complexion—Hair and beards—Shape of the body—Awkward gait—
Graceful hands—Form of skull—Size of eyes and ears—Lips—
Gesticulations—Dialect inarticulate—Dexterity and cunning—
Munza’s protection of the race 122

CHAPTER XVII.

Return to the North—Tikkitikki’s reluctance to start—Passage of
the Gadda—Sounding the Keebaly—The river Kahpily—Cataracts
of the Keebaly—Kubby’s refusal of boats—Our impatience—Crowds
of hippopotamuses—Possibility of fording the river—Origin and
connection of the Keebaly—Division of highland and lowland—
Geographical expressions of Arabs and Nubians—Mohammedan
perversions—Return to Nembey—Bivouac in the border-wilderness—
Eating wax—The Niam-niam declare war—Parley with the enemy—My
mistrust of the guides—Treacherous attack on Mohammed—Mohammed’s
dangerous wound—Open war—Detruncated heads—Effect of arrows—
Mohammed’s defiance—Attack on the abattis—Pursuit of the enemy—
Inexplicable appearance of 10,000 men—Waudo’s unpropitious omen—
My Niam-niam and their oracle—Mohammed’s speedy cure—Solar
phenomenon—Dogs barbarously speared—Women captured—Niam-niam
affection for their wives—Calamus—Upper course of the Mbrwole—
Fresh captive—Her composure—Alteration in scenery—Arrival at
the Nabambisso 147

CHAPTER XVIII.

Solitary days and short provisions—Productive ant-hill—Ideal
plenty and actual necessity—Attempt at epicurism—Expedition
to the east—Papyrus swamp—Disgusting food of the Niam-niam—
Merdyan’s Seriba—Hyæna as beast of prey—Losing the way—
Reception in Tuhamy’s Seriba—Scenery of Mondoo—Gyabir’s
marriage—Discovery of the source of the Dyoor—Mount Baginze—
Vegetation of mountain—Cyanite gneiss—Mohammed’s campaign
against Mbeeoh—Three Bongo missing—Skulls Nos. 36, 37, and 38—
Indifference of Nubians to cannibalism—Horrible scene—Change
in mode of living—Invasion of ants—Peculiar method of crossing
the Sway—Bad tidings—Successful chase—Extract of meat—Return
of long absent friends—Adventures of Mohammed’s detachment—Route
from Rikkete to Kanna—Disappointment with Niam-niam dog—Limited
authority of Nganye—Suspension-bridge over the Tondy 194

CHAPTER XIX.

Division of the caravan—Trip to the east—African elk—Bamboo-
forests—Seriba Mbomo on the Lehssy—Abundance of corn—Route
between Kuddoo and Mbomo—Maize-culture—Harness-bushbock—
Leopard carried in triumph—Leopards and panthers—The Babuckur—
Lips of the Babuckur women—Surprised by buffaloes—Accident in
crossing the Lehssy—Tracts of wilderness—Buffaloes in the
bush—The Mashirr hills—Tamarinds again—Wild dates—Tikkitikki
and the cows—The Viceroy’s scheme—Hunger on the march—Passage
of the Tondy—Suggestion for a ferry—Prosperity of Ghattas’s
establishments—Arrival of expected stores—A dream realised—
Trip to Kurkur—Hyæna dogs—Dislike of the Nubians to pure water—
Two soldiers killed by Dinka—Attempt to rear an elephant—My
menagerie—Accident from an arrow—Cattle plagues—Meteorology—
Trip to the Dyoor—Gyabir’s delusion—Bad news of Mohammed—
Preparations for a second Niam-niam journey 246

CHAPTER XX.

A disastrous day—Failure to rescue my effects—Burnt Seriba by
night—Comfortless bed—A wintry aspect—Rebuilding the Seriba—
Cause of the fire—Idrees’s apathy—An exceptionally wet day—
Bad news of Niam-niam expedition—Measuring distance by
footsteps—Start to the Dyoor—Khalil’s kind reception—A
restricted wardrobe—Temperature at its minimum—Corn requisitions
of Egyptian troops—Slave trade carried on by soldiers—
Suggestions for improved transport—Chinese hand-barrows—Defeat
of Khartoomers by Ndoruma—Nubians’ fear of bullets—A lion shot—
Nocturnal disturbance—Measurements of the river Dyoor—
Hippopotamus hunt—Habits of hippopotamus—Hippopotamus fat—Nile
whips—Recovery of a manuscript—Character of the Nubians—Nubian
superstitions—Strife in the Egyptian camp 289

CHAPTER XXI.

Fresh wanderings—Dyoor remedy for wounds—Crocodiles in the
Ghetty—Former residence of Miss Tinné—Dirt and disorder—The
Baggara-Rizegat—An enraged fanatic—The Pongo—Frontiers of
the Bongo and Golo—A buffalo-calf shot—Idrees Wod Defter’s
Seriba—Golo dialect—Corn magazines of the Golo—The
Kooroo—The goats’ brook—Increasing level of land—Seebehr’s
Seriba Dehm Nduggoo—Discontent of the Turks—Visit to an
invalid—Ibrahim Effendi—Establishment of the Dehms—Nubians
rivals to the slave-dealers—Population of Dar Ferteet—The
Kredy—Overland route to Kordofan—Shekka—Copper mines of
Darfoor—Raw copper 332

CHAPTER XXII.

Underwood of Cycadeæ—Peculiar mills of the Kredy—Wanderings in
the wilderness—Crossing the Beery—Inhospitable reception at
Mangoor—Numerous brooks—Huge emporium of slave-trade—Highest
point of my travels—Western limit—Gallery-woods near Dehm
Gudyoo—Scorbutic attack—Dreams and their fulfilment—Courtesy
of Yumma—Remnants of ancient mountain ridges—Upper course
of the Pongo—Information about the far west—Great river of
Dar Aboo Dinga—Barth’s investigations—Primogeniture of the
Bahr-el-Arab—First giving of the weather—Elephant-hunters from
Darfoor—The Sehre—Wild game around Dehm Adlan—Cultivated
plants of the Sehre—Magic tuber—Deficiency of water—A night
without a roof—Irrepressible good spirits of the Sehre—Lower
level of the land—A miniature mountain-range—Norway rats—
Gigantic fig-tree in Moody—The “evil eye”—Little steppe-
burning—Return to Khalil’s quarters 373

CHAPTER XXIII.

Katherine II.’s villages—Goods bartered by slave-traders—Agents
of slave-traders—Baseness of Fakis—Horrible scene—Enthusiasm
of slave-dealers—Hospitality shown to slave-dealers—Three
classes of Gellahbas—Intercourse with Mofio—Price of slaves—
Relative value of races—Private slaves of the Nubians—
Voluntary slaves—Slave-women—The murhaga—Agricultural slave-
labour—Population of the district—Five sources of the slave-
trade—Repressive measures of the Government—Slave-raids of
Mehemet Ali—Slow progress of humanity—Accomplishment of half
the work—Egypt’s mission—No co-operation from Islamism—
Regeneration of the East—Depopulation of Africa—Indignation
of the traveller—Means for suppressing the slave-trade—
Commissioners of slaves—Chinese immigration—Foundation and
protection of great States 410

CHAPTER XXIV.

Tidings of war—Two months’ hunting—Yolo antelopes—Reed-rats—
Habits of the Aulacodus—River-oysters—Soliman’s arrival—
Advancing season—Execution of a rebel—Return to Ghattas’s
Seriba—Disgusting population—Allagabo—Alarm of fire—Strange
evolutions of hartebeests—Nubian cattle-raids—Traitors among
the natives—Remains of Shol’s huts—Lepers and slaves—Ambiguous
slave-trading—Down the Gazelle—The Balæniceps again—Dying
hippopotamus—Invocation of saints—Disturbance at night—False
alarm—Taken in tow—The Mudir’s camp—Crowded boats—Confiscation
of slaves—Surprise in Fashoda—Slave-caravans on the bank—
Arrival in Khartoom—Telegram to Berlin—Seizure of my servants—
Remonstrance with the Pasha—Mortality in the fever season—
Tikkitikki’s death—Θάλαττα. θάλαττα. 443

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

(ENGRAVED BY J. D. COOPER.)

[Illustration]

PAGE

King Munza in full dress _Frontispiece_

Remarkable head-dress of the Niam-niam 7

Knives, scimitars, trumbashes, and shield of the Niam-niam 10

Niam-niam warrior 11

Niam-niam warriors _to face_ 12

Clay pipes of the Niam-niam 14

Niam-niam dog 15

Niam-niam granary 20

Bamogee: or hut for the boys 21

Niam-niam handicraft 26

Munza’s residence _to face_ 63

Breed of cattle from the Maoggoo country 64

Goat of the Momvoo 69

King Munza dancing before his wives _to face_ 74

King Munza’s dish 79

Monbuttoo warriors 103

Monbuttoo woman 105

Weapons of the Monbuttoo 107

Spear-heads 111

Hatchet, spade, and adze, of the Monbuttoo 112

Wooden kettle-drum 113

Single seat used by the women 114

Seat-rest 115

Water-bottles 116

Bomby the Akka 130

Nsewue the Akka 134

Dinka pipe 146

View on the Keebaly, near Kubby _to face_ 158

A gallery-forest _to face_ 166

Mohammed defies his enemies _to face_ 177

Our daily life in camp _to face_ 194

Suspension-bridge over the Tondy _to face_ 244

Horns of Central African Eland 249

Golo woman 350

Corn-magazine of the Golo 352

Kredy hut 375

Interior of Kredy hut 376

“Karra,” the magic tuber 399

A Bongo concert 404

Slave-traders from Kordofan _to face_ 410

Babuckur slave 420

Slave at work 424

Hunting reed-rats 447

Far-el-boos. (_Aulacodus Swinderianus_) 449

Bongo village, near Geer _to face_ 461

[Illustration:

SKETCH MAP
of
Dᴿ SCHWEINFURTH’S
ROUTES

1868-1871.

London. Sampson Low & Cᵒ. Lith. v. C. Korbgeweit, Berlin.
]

THE HEART OF AFRICA.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE NIAM-NIAM. Signification of the name. General characteristics.
Distinct nationality. Complexion and tattooing. Time spent on
hair-dressing. _Frisure à la gloire._ Favourite adornments.
Weapons. Soldierly bearing. A nation of hunters. Women
agriculturists. The best beer in Africa. Cultivated plants.
Domestic animals. Dogs. Preparation of maize. Cannibalism.
Analogy with the Fans of the West Coast. Architecture. Power
of the princes. Their households. Events during war. Immunity
of the white man. Wanton destruction of elephants. Bait for
wild-fowl. Arts and manufactures. Forms of greeting. Position
of the women. An African pastime. Musical taste. Professional
jesters and minstrels. Praying machine. Auguries. Mourning for
the dead. Disposal of the dead. Genealogical table of Niam-niam
princes.

Long before Mehemet Ali, by despatching his expeditions up the White
Nile, had made any important advance into the interior of the unknown
continent—before even a single sailing vessel had ever penetrated
the grass-barriers of the Gazelle—at a time when European travellers
had never ventured to pass the frontiers of that portion of Central
Africa which is subject to Islamism—whilst the heathen negro countries
of the Soudan were only beginning to dawn like remote nebulæ on the
undefined horizon of our geographical knowledge—tradition had already
been circulated about the existence of a people with whose name the
Mohammedans of the Soudan were accustomed to associate all the savagery
which could be conjured up by a fertile imagination. The comparison
might be suggested that just as at the present day, in civilised
Europe, questions concerning the descent of men from apes form a
subject of ordinary conversation, so at that time in the Soudan did
the Niam-niam (under the supposition that they were graced with tails)
serve as common ground for all ideas that pertained to the origin of
man. This people, whose existence was evoked from the mysterious hordes
of witches and goblins, might have vanished amidst the dim obscurity of
the primeval forests if it had not been that Alexandre Dumas, in his
tale of ‘l’Homme à Queue,’ so rich in its charming simplicity, had,
exactly at the right moment, raised a small memorial which contributed
to its preservation.

To lift in a measure the veil which had enveloped the Niam-niam with
this legendary and magic mystery fell to the lot of my predecessor
Piaggia, that straightforward and intrepid Italian who, animated by the
desire of opening up some reliable insight into their real habits, had
resided alone for a whole year amongst them.[1]

I reckon it my own good fortune that I was so soon to follow him into
the very midst of this cannibal population. It was indeed a period of
transition from the age of tradition to that of positive knowledge,
but I have no hesitation in asserting that these Niam-niam, apart from
some specialities which will always appertain to the human race so long
as it hangs unconsciously upon the breast of its great mother Nature,
are men of like passions with ourselves, equally subject to the same
sentiments of grief and joy. I have interchanged with them many a jest,
and I have participated in their child-like sports, enlivened by the
animating beating of their war-drums or by the simple strains of their
mandolins.

[Sidenote: APPELLATIONS OF THE NIAM-NIAM.]

The name Niam-niam[2] is borrowed from the dialect of the Dinka, and
means “eaters,” or rather “great eaters,” manifestly betokening a
reference to the cannibal propensities of the people. This designation
has been so universally incorporated into the Arabic of the Soudan,
that it seems unadvisable to substitute for it the word “Zandey,” the
name by which the people are known amongst themselves. Since among
the Mohammedans of the Soudan the term Niam-niam (plur. Niamah-niam)
is principally associated with the idea of cannibalism, the same
designation is sometimes applied by them to other nations who have
nothing in common with the true Niam-niam, or “Zandey,” except the
one characteristic of a predilection for eating human flesh. The
neighbouring nations have a variety of appellations to denote them. The
Bongo on the north sometimes call them Mundo, and sometimes Manyanya;
in the country behind these are the Dyoor, who uniformly speak of
them as the O-Madyaka; the tribe of the Mittoo on the east give them
the name of the Makkarakka, or Kakkarakka; the Golo style them Kunda;
whilst among the Monbuttoo they are known as Babungera.

The greater part of the Niam-niam country lies between the fourth and
sixth parallels of north latitude, and a line drawn across the centre
from east to west would correspond with the watershed between the
basins of the Nile and Tsad. My own travels were confined exclusively
to the eastern portion of the country, which, as far as I could
understand, is bounded in that direction by the upper course of the
Tondy; but in that district alone I became acquainted with as many
as thirty-five independent chieftains who rule over the portion of
Niam-niam territory that is traversed by the trading companies from
Khartoom.

Of the extent of the country towards the west I was unable to gain any
definite information; but as far as the land is known to the Nubians
it would appear to cover between five and six degrees of longitude,
and must embrace an area of about 48,000 square miles. The population
of the known regions is at least two millions, an estimate based upon
the number of armed men at the disposal of the chieftains through
whose territory I travelled, and upon the corresponding reports of the
fighting force in the western districts.

No traveller could possibly find himself for the first time surrounded
by a group of true Niam-niam without being almost forced to confess
that all he had hitherto witnessed amongst the various races of
Africa was comparatively tame and uninteresting, so remarkable is the
aspect of this savage people. No one, after observing the promiscuous
intermingling of races which (in singular contrast to the uniformity of
the soil) prevails throughout the entire district of the Gazelle, could
fail to be struck by the pronounced characteristics of the Niam-niam,
which make them capable of being identified at the first glance amidst
the whole series of African races. As a proof of this, I may introduce
a case in point. I was engaged one day in taking the measurements of a
troop of Bongo bearers, when at once I detected that the leader of the
band had all the characteristics of the Niam-niam type. I asked him how
it happened that he was a “nyare,” _i.e._, a local overseer, among the
Bongo, when the mere shape of his head declared him, beyond a doubt,
to be a Niam-niam. To the amazement of all who were present he replied
that he was born of Niam-niam parents, but that it had been his fate
when a child to be conveyed into the country of the Bongo. This is an
example which serves to demonstrate how striking are the distinctions
which enable an observer to carry out the diagnosis of a negro with
such certainty, and to arrive at conclusions which ordinarily could
only be conjectured by noticing his apparel or some external and
accidental adornments.

[Sidenote: APPEARANCE OF THE NIAM-NIAM.]

I propose in the present chapter to give a brief summary of the
characteristics of this Niam-niam people, and shall hope so to explain
the general features of their physiological and osteological aspect,
and so to describe the details of their costume and ornaments, that I
may not fail in my desire to convey a tolerably correct impression of
this most striking race.

The round broad heads of the Niam-niam, of which the proportions may
be ranked among the lowest rank of brachycephaly, are covered with
the thick frizzly hair of what are termed the true negroes; this is
of an extraordinary length, and arranged in long plaits and tufts
flowing over the shoulders and sometimes falling as low as the waist.
The eyes, almond-shaped and somewhat sloping, are shaded with thick,
sharply-defined brows, and are of remarkable size and fulness; the
wide space between them testifies to the unusual width of the skull,
and contributes a mingled expression of animal ferocity, warlike
resolution, and ingenuous candour. A flat square nose, a mouth of about
the same width as the nose, with very thick lips, a round chin, and
full plump cheeks, complete the countenance, which may be described as
circular in its general contour.

The body of the Niam-niam is ordinarily inclined to be fat, but it does
not commonly exhibit much muscular strength. The average height does
not exceed that of Europeans, a stature of 5 feet 10½ inches being
the tallest that I measured. The upper part of the figure is long in
proportion to the legs, and this peculiarity gives a strange character
to their movements, although it does not impede their agility in their
war dances.

The skin in colour is in no way remarkable. Like that of the Bongo,
it may be compared to the dull hue of a cake of chocolate. Among
the women, detached instances may be found of various shades of a
copper-coloured complexion, but the ground-tint is always the same—an
earthy red, in contrast to the bronze tint of the true Ethiopian
(Kushitic) races of Nubia. As marks of nationality, all the “Zandey”
score themselves with three or four tattooed squares filled up with
dots; they place these indiscriminately upon the forehead, the temples,
or the cheeks. They have, moreover, a figure like the letter X under
the breasts; and in some exceptional cases they tattoo the bosom and
upper parts of the arm with a variety of patterns, either stripes, or
dotted lines, or zigzags. No mutilation of the body is practised by
either sex, but this remark must be subject to the one exception that
they fall in with the custom, common to the whole of Central Africa,
of filing the incisor teeth to a point, for the purpose of effectually
griping the arm of an adversary either in wrestling or in single combat.

On rare occasions, a piece of material made from the bark of the
Urostigma is worn as clothing; but, as a general rule, the entire
costume is composed of skins, which are fastened to a girdle and form
a picturesque drapery about the loins. The finest and most variegated
skins are chosen for this purpose, those of the genet and colobus being
held in the highest estimation; the long black tail of the quereza
monkey (_Colobus_) is also fastened to the dress. Only chieftains
and members of royal blood have the privilege of covering the head
with a skin, that of the serval being most generally designated for
this honour. In crossing the dewy steppes in the early morning during
the rainy season, the men are accustomed to wear a large antelope
hide, which is fastened round the neck, and, falling to the knees,
effectually protects the body from the cold moisture of the long grass.
A covering, which always struck me as very graceful, was formed from
the skin of the harness bush-bock (_A. scripta_), of which the dazzling
white stripes on a yellowish ground never fail to be very effective.
The sons of chieftains wear their dress looped up on one side, so that
one leg is left entirely bare.

[Illustration: Remarkable head-dress of the Niam-niam.]

[Sidenote: HEAD-DRESS OF THE NIAM-NIAM.]

The men take an amount of trouble in arranging their hair which
is almost incredible, whilst nothing could be more simple and
unpretending than the ordinary head-gear of the women. It would,
indeed, be a matter of some difficulty to discover any kind of plaits,
tufts, or top-knots which has not already been tried by the Niam-niam
men. The hair is usually parted right down the middle; towards the
forehead it branches off, so as to leave a kind of triangle; from
the fork which is thus formed a tuft is raised, and carried back to
be fastened behind; on either side of this tuft the hair is arranged
in rolls, like the ridges and crevices of a melon. Over the temples
separate rolls are gathered up into knots, from which hang more tufts,
twisted like cord, that fall in bunches all round the neck, three or
four of the longest tresses being allowed to go free over the breast
and shoulders. The women dress their hair in a simpler but somewhat
similar manner, omitting the long plaits and tufts. The most peculiar
head-gear that I saw was upon some men who came from the territory
of Keefa, and of this a representation is given in the accompanying
portrait. These people reminded me very much of the description given
by Livingstone of the Balonda, that people of Londa, on the Zambesi,
which he came across during his first journey. The head is encircled by
a series of rays like the glory which adorns the likeness of a saint.
This circle is composed entirely of the man’s own hair, single tresses
being taken from all parts of the head and stretched tightly over a
hoop, which is ornamented with cowries. The hoop is fastened to the
lower rim of a straw hat by means of four wires, which are drawn out
before the men lie down to sleep, when the whole arrangement admits of
being folded back. This elaborate coiffure demands great attention, and
much time must be devoted to it every day. It is only the men who wear
any covering at all upon their head: they use a cylindrical hat without
any brim, square at the top and always ornamented with a waving plume
of feathers; the hat is fastened on by large hair-pins, made either of
iron, copper, or ivory, and tipped with crescents, tridents, knobs, and
various other devices.

A very favourite decoration is formed out of the incisor teeth of a
dog strung together under the hair, and hanging along the forehead
like a fringe. The teeth of different rodentia likewise are arranged
as ornaments that resemble strings of coral. Another ornament, far
from uncommon, is cut out of ivory in imitation of lions’ teeth, and
arranged in a radial fashion all over the breast, the effect of the
white substance in contrast with the dark skin being very striking.
Altogether the decoration may be considered as imposing as the pointed
collar of the days of chivalry, and is quite in character with the
warlike nation who find their pastime in hunting. Glass beads are held
in far less estimation by the Niam-niam than by the neighbouring races;
and only that lazuli blue sort which I have mentioned as known in
the Khartoom market by the name of “mandyoor” finds any favour at all
amongst them. Cowries are often used to trim the girdles as well as the
head-gear.

[Sidenote: TRUMBASHES.]

The principal weapons of the Niam-niam are their lances and their
trumbashes. The word “trumbash,” which has been incorporated into
the Arabic of the Soudan, is the term employed in Sennaar to denote
generally all the varieties of missiles that are used by the negro
races; it should, however, properly be applied solely to that sharp
flat projectile of wood, a kind of boomerang, which is used for killing
birds or hares, or any small game: when the weapon is made of iron,
it is called “kulbeda.” The trumbash of the Niam-niam[3] consists
ordinarily of several limbs of iron, with pointed prongs and sharp
edges. Iron missiles very similar in their shape are found among
the tribes of the Tsad basin; and a weapon constructed on the same
principle, the “changer manger,” is in use among the Marghy and the
Musgoo.

The trumbashes are always attached to the inside of the shields, which
are woven from the Spanish reed, and are of a long oval form, covering
two-thirds of the body; they are ornamented with black and white
crosses or other devices, and are so light that they do not in the
least impede the combatants in their wild leaps. An expert Niam-niam,
by jumping up for a moment, can protect his feet from the flying
missiles of his adversary. Bows and arrows, which, as handled by the
Bongo, give them a certain advantage, are not in common use among the
Niam-niam, who possess a peculiar weapon of attack in their singular
knives, that have blades like sickles. The Monbuttoo, who are far more
skilful smiths than the Niam-niam, supply them with most of these
weapons, receiving in return a heavy kind of lance, that is adapted
for the elephant and buffalo chase.

[Illustration:

Knives, scimitars, trumbashes, and shield of the Niam-niam.
(The shield is represented in three different positions.)]

[Illustration]

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM WARRIOR.]

Such are the details with which I present the reader with my portrait
of the Niam-niam in his full accoutrement of war. With his lance in one
hand, his woven shield and trumbash in the other—with his scimitar in
his girdle, and his loins encircled by a skin, to which are attached
the tails of several animals—adorned on his breast and on his forehead
by strings of teeth, the trophies of war or of the chase—his long
hair floating freely over his neck and shoulders—his large keen eyes
gleaming from beneath his heavy brow—his white and pointed teeth
shining from between his parted lips—he advances with a firm and
defiant bearing, so that the stranger as he gazes upon him may well
behold, in this true son of the African wilderness, every attribute of
the wildest savagery that may be conjured up by the boldest flight of
fancy. It is therefore by no means difficult to account for the deep
impression made by the Niam-niam on the fantastic imagination of the
Soudan Arabs. I have seen the wild Bishareen and other Bedouins of the
Nubian deserts; I have gazed with admiration upon the stately war-dress
of the Abyssinians; I have been riveted with surprise at the supple
forms of the mounted Baggara: but nowhere, in any part of Africa, have
I ever come across a people that in every attitude and every motion
exhibited so thorough a mastery over all the circumstances of war or of
the chase as these Niam-niam. Other nations in comparison seemed to me
to fall short in the perfect ease—I might almost say, in the dramatic
grace—that characterised their every movement.

[Illustration: NIAM-NIAM WARRIORS.]

In describing this people, it is hard to determine how far they ought
to be designated as a nation of hunters, or one of agriculturists, the
two occupations apparently being equally distributed between the two
sexes. The men most studiously devote themselves to their hunting,
and leave the culture of the soil to be carried on exclusively by the
women. Occasionally, indeed, the men may bring home a supply of fruits,
tubers and funguses from their excursions through the forests, but
practically they do nothing for the support of their families beyond
providing them with game. The agriculture of the Niam-niam, in contrast
with that of the Bongo, involves but a small outlay of labour. The more
limited area of the arable land, the larger number of inhabitants that
are settled on every square mile, the greater productiveness of the
soil, of which in some districts the exuberance is unsurpassed—all
combine to make the cultivation of the country supremely easy. The
entire land is pre-eminently rich in many spontaneous products, animal
and vegetable alike, that conduce to the direct maintenance of human
life.

The _Eleusine coracana_ (the “raggi” of the East Indies), a cereal
which I had found only scantily propagated among the people that I have
hitherto described, is here the staple of cultivation; sorghum in most
districts is quite unknown, and maize is only grown in inconsiderable
quantities.

[Sidenote: ELEUSINE BEER.]

Here, as in Abyssinia (where its product is called tocusso), eleusine
affords a material for a very palatable beer.[4] In the Mohammedan
Soudan the inhabitants, from cold fermented sorghum-dough, extract the
well-known merissa; and by first warming the dough, and exercising
more care and patience in the process, is made the bilbil of the
Takareer; neither of these beverages, however, to our palate would
be much superior to sour pap: even the booza of Egypt, made though
it is from wheat, is hardly in any respect superior in quality. But
the drink which by the Niam-niam is prepared from their eleusine
is really capable, from the skill with which it is manipulated, of
laying a fair claim to be known as _beer_. It is quite bright; it is
of a reddish-pale brown colour, and it is regularly brewed from the
malted grain, without the addition of any extraneous ingredient; it
has a pleasant, bitter flavour, derived from the dark husks, which,
if they were mixed in their natural condition with the dough, would
impart a twang that would be exceedingly unpalatable. How large is the
proportion of beer consumed by the Niam-niam may be estimated by simply
observing the ordinary way in which they store their corn. As a regular
rule, there are three granaries allotted to each dwelling, of which two
are made to suffice for the supply which is to contribute the meal
necessary for the household; the other is entirely devoted to the grain
that has been malted.

Manioc, sweet potatoes, yams, and colocasiæ are cultivated with little
trouble, and rarely fail to yield excellent crops. Plantains are
only occasionally seen in the east, and from the districts in which
I travelled, I should judge that they are not a main support of life
at any latitude higher than 4° N. Sugar-canes and oil-palms entirely
failed in this part of the land, but I was informed that they were as
plentiful in Keefa’s territory as they are among the Monbuttoo.

[Illustration: Clay pipes of the Niam-niam.]

All the Niam-niam are tobacco-smokers. Their name for the
_Nicotiana tabacum_ is “gundey,” and they are the only people of
the Bahr-el-Ghazal district that have a special designation for the
plant. The other sort, _N. rustica_, which, on the contrary, has a
local appellation in nearly every dialect of the neighbouring nations
(apparently denoting that the plant is indigenous to Central Africa)
is utterly unknown throughout the country. The people smoke from clay
pipes of peculiar form, consisting of elongated bowls without stems.
Like other negro races that remain untainted by Islamism, they abstain
from ever chewing the tobacco.

[Illustration: Niam-niam Dog.]

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM DOGS.]

In broad terms, it may be stated that no cattle at all exists in the
land; the only domestic animals are poultry and dogs. The dogs belong
to a small breed resembling the wolfdog, but with short sleek hair;
they have ears that are large and always erect, and a short curly
tail like that of a young pig. They are usually of a bright yellowish
tan colour, and very often have a white stripe upon the neck; their
lanky muzzle projects somewhat abruptly from an arched forehead;
their legs are short and straight, thus demonstrating that the animals
have nothing in common with the terrier breed depicted upon the walls
of Egyptian temples, and of which the African origin has never been
proved. Like dogs generally in the Nile district, they are deficient
in the dewclaws of the hind-feet. They are made to wear little wooden
bells round their necks, so that they should not be lost in the long
steppe grass. After the pattern of their masters, they are inclined to
be corpulent, and this propensity is encouraged as much as possible,
dogs’ flesh being esteemed one of the choicest delicacies of the
Niam-niam.

Cows and goats are familiar only by report, although it may happen
occasionally that some are brought in as the result of raids that have
been perpetrated upon the adjacent territories of the Babuckur and
the Mittoo. There would hardly seem to be any specific words in the
language to denote either sheep, donkeys, horses, or camels, which,
according to common conception, would all come very much under the
category of fabulous animals.

Although the Niam-niam have a few carefully-prepared dishes of which
they partake, in a general way they exhibit as little nicety or choice
in their diet as is shown by all the tribes (with the remarkable
exception of the Dinka) of the Bahr-el-Ghazal district. The most
palatable mess that I found amongst them was composed of the pulp of
fresh maize, ground while the grain is still soft and milky, cleansed
from the bran, and prepared carefully so that it was not burnt to the
bottom of the pot. The mode of preparation is rather ingenious. A
little water having been put over the fire till it is just beginning to
boil, the raw meal, which has previously been rolled into small lumps,
is very gently shaken in, and, having been allowed to simmer for a
time, the whole is finally stirred up together.

The acme, however, of all earthly enjoyments would seem to be _meat_.
“Meat! meat!” is the watchword that resounds in all their campaigns. In
certain places and at particular seasons the abundance of game is very
large, and it might readily be imagined that the one prevailing and
permanent idea of this people would be how to chase and secure their
booty; but, as I have remarked before, there is no greater evidence of
the real difference between the disposition of nations than that which
is afforded by their general expression for food. As, for example, the
Bongo verb “to eat” is “mony,” which is their ordinary designation
of sorghum, their _corn_; so the Niam-niam word is identical with
“pushyoh,” which is their common name for _meat_.

Just as in his investigation of the animal and vegetable kingdoms the
naturalist is attracted to the very lowest organizations because they
contain the germs of the higher and more complicated, in the same
degree does the interest of the traveller centre upon the simplest
development of culture, because he knows that it is the embryo of the
most advanced civilization.

[Sidenote: REPUTED CANNIBALISM.]

The accuracy of the report of the cannibalism which has uniformly
been attributed to the Niam-niam by every nation which has had any
knowledge at all of their existence, would be questioned by no one who
had a fair opportunity of investigating the origin of my collection
of skulls. To a general rule, of course, there may be exceptions here
as elsewhere; and I own that I have heard of other travellers to the
Niam-niam lands who have visited the territories of Tombo and Bazimbey,
lying to the west of my route, and who have returned without having
witnessed any proof of the practice. Piaggia, moreover, resided for
a considerable time in those very districts, and yet was only once a
witness of anything of the kind; and that, as he records, was upon the
occasion of a campaign, when a slaughtered foe was devoured from actual
bloodthirstiness and hatred. From my own knowledge, too, I can mention
chiefs, like Wando, who vehemently repudiated the idea of eating
human flesh, although their constant engagement in war furnished them
with ample opportunity for gratifying their taste if they desired. But
still, taking all things into account, as well what I heard as what
I saw, I can have no hesitation in asserting that the Niam-niam are
anthropophagi; that they make no secret of their savage craving, but
ostentatiously string the teeth of their victims around their necks,
adorning the stakes erected beside their dwellings for the exhibition
of their trophies with the skulls of the men whom they have devoured.
Human fat is universally sold. When eaten in considerable quantity,
this fat is presumed to have an intoxicating effect; but although I
heard this stated as a fact by a number of the people, I never could
discover the foundation upon which they based this strange belief.

In times of war, people of all ages, it is reported, are eaten up,
more especially the aged, as forming by their helplessness an easier
prey to the rapacity of a conqueror; or at any time should any lone
and solitary individual die, uncared for and unheeded by relatives, he
would be sure to be devoured in the very district in which he lived. In
short, all who with ourselves would be consigned to the knife of the
anatomist would here be disposed of by this melancholy destiny.

I have already had occasion to mention how the Nubians asserted that
they knew cases in which Bongo bearers who had died from fatigue had
been dug out from the graves in which they had been buried, and,
according to the statements of Niam-niam themselves—who did not disown
their cannibalism—there were no bodies rejected as unfit for food
except those which had died from some loathsome cutaneous disease. In
opposition to all this, I feel bound to record that there are some
Niam-niam who turn with such aversion from any consumption of human
flesh that they would peremptorily refuse to eat out of the same
dish with any one who was a cannibal. The Niam-niam may be said to be
generally particular at their meals, and when several are drinking
together they may each be observed to wipe the rim of the drinking
vessel before passing it on.

[Sidenote: ANALOGY WITH THE FAN.]

Of late years our knowledge of Central Africa has been in many ways
enlarged, and various well-authenticated reports of the cannibalism of
some of its inhabitants have been circulated; but no explanation which
can be offered for this unsolved problem of psychology (whether it be
considered as a vestige of heathen worship, or whether it be regarded
as a resource for supplying a deficiency of animal food) can mitigate
the horror that thrills through us at every repetition of the account
of the hideous and revolting custom. Among all the nations of Africa
upon whom the imputation of this odious custom notoriously rests,
the Fan, who dwell upon the equatorial coasts of the west, have the
repute of being the greatest rivals of the Niam-niam. Eye-witnesses
agree in affirming that the Fan barter their dead among themselves,
and that cases have been known where corpses already buried have been
disinterred in order that they might be devoured. According to their
own accounts, the Fan migrated from the north-east to the western
coast. In various particulars they evidently have a strong affinity
with the Niam-niam. Both nations have many points of resemblance in
dress and customs: alike they file their teeth to sharp points; they
dress themselves in a material made from bark, and stain their bodies
with red wood; the chiefs wear leopard skins as an emblem of their
rank; and all the people lavish the same elaborate care upon the
arrangement of their tresses. The complexion of the Fan is of the same
copper-brown as that of the Niam-niam, and they indulge in similar
orgies and wild dances at the period of every full moon; they moreover
pursue the same restless hunter life. They would appear to be the same
of whom the old Portuguese writers have spoken under the name of
“Yagas,” and who are said, at the beginning of the seventeenth century,
to have laid waste the kingdom of Loango.

No regular towns or villages exist throughout the Niam-niam country.
The huts, grouped into little hamlets, are scattered about the
cultivated districts, which are separated from one another by large
tracts of wilderness many miles in extent. The residence of a prince
differs in no respect from that of ordinary subjects, except in the
larger number of huts provided for himself and his wives. The hareem
collectively is called a “bodimoh.”[5]

[Illustration: Niam-niam Granary.]

The architecture of the eastern Niam-niam corresponds very nearly with
what may be seen in many other parts of Central Africa. The conical
roofs are higher and more pointed than those of the Bongo and Dinka,
having a projection beyond the clay walls of the hut, which affords
a good shelter from the rain. This projection is supported by posts,
which give the whole building the semblance of being surrounded by a
verandah. The huts that are used for cooking have roofs still more
pointed than those which serve for sleeping. Other little huts, with
bell-shaped roofs, erected in a goblet-shape upon a substructure
of clay, and furnished with only one small aperture, are called
“bamogee,” and are set apart, as being secure from the attacks of wild
beasts, for sleeping-places of the boys, as soon as they are of an age
to be separated from the adults.

[Sidenote: REVENUE OF THE CHIEFTAINS.]

Every sovereign prince bears the title of “Bya,” which is pronounced
very much like the French word _bien_. His power is limited to the
calling together of the men who are capable of bearing arms, to the
execution in person of those condemned to death, and to determining
whether there shall be peace or war. Except the ivory and the moiety
of elephant’s flesh, he enjoys no other revenue; for his means of
subsistence he depends upon his farms, which are worked either by his
slaves or more generally by his numerous wives. Towards the west,
where a flourishing slave-trade is driven to the cost of the oppressed
inhabitants who are not true Zandey, a portion of the tribute is raised
by a conscription of young girls and boys, a part of the purchase-money
paid by the Darfoor traders to the chief being handed over to the
parents who are thus robbed of their children.

[Illustration: Bamogee: or hut for the boys.]

Although a Niam-niam chieftain disdains external pomp and repudiates
any ostentatious display, his authority in one respect is quite
supreme. Without his orders no one would for a moment entertain
a thought either of opening war or concluding peace. The defiant
imperious bearing of the chiefs alone constitutes their outward
dignity, and there are some who in majestic deportment and gesture
might vie with any potentate of the earth. The dread with which they
inspire their subjects is incredible: it is said that for the purpose
of exhibiting their power over life and death they will occasionally
feign fits of passion, and that, singling out a victim from the crowd,
they will throw a rope about his neck, and with their own hands cut
his throat with one stroke of their jagged scimitar. This species of
African “Cæsarism” vividly recalls the last days of Theodore, King of
Abyssinia.

The eldest son of a chief is considered to be the heir to his title and
dignity, all the other sons being entrusted with the command of the
fighting forces in separate districts, and generally being assigned a
certain share of the hunting booty. At the death of a chief, however,
the firstborn is frequently not acknowledged by all his brothers;
some of them perchance will support him, whilst others will insist
upon their right to become independent rulers in the districts where
they have been acting as “behnky.” Contentions of this character are
continually giving rise to every kind of aggression and repeated deeds
of violence.[6]

Notwithstanding the general warlike spirit displayed by the Niam-niam,
it is a very singular fact that the chieftains very rarely lead their
own people into actual engagement, but are accustomed, in anxious
suspense, to linger about the environs of the “mbanga,” ready, in the
event of tidings of defeat, to decamp with their wives and treasures
into the most inaccessible swamps, or to betake themselves for
concealment to the long grass of the steppes. In the heat of combat
each discharge of lances is accompanied by the loudest and wildest of
battle-cries, every man as he hurls his weapon shouting aloud the
name of his chief. In the intervals between successive attacks the
combatants retire to a safe distance, and mounting any eminence that
may present itself, or climbing to the summit of the hills of the
white ants, which sometimes rise to a height of 12 or 15 feet, they
proceed to assail their adversaries, for the hour together, in the most
ludicrous manner, with every invective and every epithet of contempt
and defiance they can command. During the few days that we were obliged
to defend ourselves by an abattis against the attacks of the natives in
Wando’s southern territory, we had ample opportunity of hearing these
accumulated opprobriums. We could hear them vow that the “Turks” should
perish, and declare that not one of them should quit the country alive;
and then we recognised the repeated shout, “To the caldron with the
Turks!” rising to the eager climax, “Meat! meat!” It was emphatically
announced that there was no intention to do any injury to the white
man, because he was a stranger and a new-comer to the land; but I need
hardly say that, under the circumstances, I felt little inclination to
throw myself upon their mercy.

[Sidenote: EMBLEMS OF WAR.]

It is in a measure anticipating the order of events, but I may here
allude to the remarkable symbolism by which war was declared against
us on the frontiers of Wando’s territory when we were upon our return
journey. Close on the path, and in full view of every passenger, three
objects were suspended from the branch of a tree, viz. an ear of
maize, the feather of a fowl, and an arrow. The sight seemed to recall
the defiant message sent to the great King of Persia, when he would
penetrate to the heart of Scythia. Our guides readily comprehended, and
as readily explained, the meaning of the emblems, which were designed
to signify that whoever touched an ear of maize or laid his grasp upon
a single fowl would assuredly be the victim of the arrow. Without
waiting, however, for any depredations on our part, the Niam-niam,
with the basest treachery, attacked us on the following day.

In hunting, the Niam-niam employ very much the same contrivances of
traps, pits, and snares as the Bongo; but their _battues_ for securing
the larger animals are conducted both more systematically and on a more
extensive scale.

In close proximity to each separate group of hamlets, and more
frequently than not at the threshold of the abodes of the local
chieftains known as the “borrumbanga,” or “chief court,” there is
always a huge wooden kettledrum, made of a hollow stem mounted upon
four feet. The sides of this are of unequal thickness, so that when the
drum is struck it is capable of giving two perfectly distinct sounds.
According to the mode or time in which these sounds are rendered,
_three_ different signals are denoted, the first being the signal for
war, another that for hunting, and the third a summons to a festival.
Sounded originally in the mbanga of the chief, these signals are in a
few minutes repeated on the kettledrums of the “borrumbangas” of the
district, and in an incredibly short space of time some thousands of
men, armed if need be, are gathered together.

Perhaps the most frequent occasions on which these assemblages are made
arise from some elephants having been seen in the adjacent country. As
soon as the force is collected, the elephants are driven towards some
tracts of dense grass that have been purposely spared from the steppe
burning. Provided with firebrands, the crowd surrounds the spot; the
conflagration soon extends on all sides, until the poor brutes, choked
and scorched, fall a helpless prey to their destroyers, who despatch
them with their lances. Since not only the males, with their large and
valuable tusks, but the females also with the young, are included in
this wholesale and indiscriminate slaughter, it may easily be imagined
how year by year the noble animal is fast being exterminated. The
avarice of the chiefs, ever desirous of copper, and the greediness
of the people, ever anxious for flesh, make them all alike eager for
the chase. I constantly saw the natives returning to their huts with
a large bundle of what at first I imagined was firewood, but which in
reality was their share of elephant-meat, which after being cut into
strips and dried over a fire had all the appearance of a log of wood.

The thickets along the river-banks abound in many kinds of wild
fowl, which the natives catch by means of snares. The most common
are guinea-fowl and francolins, which are caught by a bait that is
rather unusual in other places. Instead of scattering common corn
in the neighbourhood of the traps, the people make use of fragments
of a fleshy Stapelia. This little succulent grows on the dry parts
of the steppe, and is frequently found about the white anthills; it
is likewise naturalised in Arabia and Nubia, and in a raw condition
is sometimes eaten as human food. Birds are very fond of it, and so
approved is it as a bait that I not unfrequently found it growing
beside the huts, where it was planted for this particular purpose.

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM HANDICRAFT.]

The handicraft of the Niam-niam exhibits itself chiefly in ironwork,
pottery, wood carving, domestic architecture, and basket-work; of
leather-dressing they know no more than others in this part of Central
Africa. Their earthenware vessels may be described as of blameless
symmetry. They make water-flasks of an enormous size, and manufacture
pretty little drinking-cups. They lavish extraordinary care on the
embellishment of their tobacco-pipes, but they have no idea of the
method of giving their clay a proper consistency by washing out the
particles of mica and by adding a small quantity of sand. From the
soft wood of several of the Rubiaceæ they carve stools and benches,
and produce great dishes and bowls, of which the stems and pedestals
are very diversified in pattern. I saw specimens of these which were
admirable works of art, and the designs of which were so complicated
that they must have cost the inventor considerable thought.

[Illustration: Niam-niam handicraft.

1. Wooden signal drum.
2 and 3. Mandolins.
4. Bedstead.
5. Iron bell.
6. Carved head for the neck of a mandolin.
7. Carved signal-pipe.
8. Wooden dog-bell.
9, 10, 11, 12, 13. Wooden dishes.
14. Mungala-board.
15. Wooden stool.
]

As every Niam-niam soldier carries a lance, trumbash, and dagger, the
manufacture of these weapons necessarily employs a large number of
smiths, who vie with each other in producing the greatest variety of
form. The dagger is worn in a sheath of skin attached to the girdle.
The lance-tips differ from those of the Bongo in having a _hastate_
shape, to use once more the botanical term which distinguishes
the _folia hastata_ from the _folia lanceolata_. Every weapon
bears so decidedly the stamp of its nationality that its origin is
discoverable at a glance. All the lances, knives, and dagger-blades are
distinguished by blood-grooves, which are not to be observed upon the
corresponding weapons of either the Bongo or Dyoor.

[Sidenote: GREETINGS.]

Mutual greetings among the Niam-niam may be said to be almost
stereotyped in phrase. Any one meeting another on the way would be
sure to say “muiyette;” but if they were indoors, they would salute
each other by saying “mookenote” or “mookenow.” Their expression
for farewell is “minahpatiroh;” and when, under any suspicious
circumstances, they wish to give assurance of a friendly intention,
they make use of the expression “badya, badya, muie” (friend, good
friend, come hither). They always extend their right hands on meeting,
and join them in such a way that the two middle fingers crack again;
and while they are shaking hands they nod at each other with a strange
movement, which to our Western ideas looks like a gesture of repulse.
The women, ever retiring in their habits, are not accustomed to be
greeted on the road by any with whom they are not previously intimate.

No wooing in this country is dependent, as elsewhere in Africa, upon a
payment exacted from the suitor by the father of the intended bride.
When a man resolves upon matrimony, the ordinary rule would be for him
to apply to the reigning prince, or to the sub-chieftain, who would at
once endeavour to procure him such a wife as might appear suitable. In
spite of the prosaic and matter-of-fact proceeding, and notwithstanding
the unlimited polygamy which prevails throughout the land, the
marriage-bond loses nothing of the sacredness of its liabilities, and
unfaithfulness is generally punished with immediate death. A family
of children is reckoned as the best evidence and seal of conjugal
affection, and to be the mother of many children is always recognised
as a claim to distinction and honour. It is one of the fine traits of
this people that they exhibit a deep and consistent affection for their
wives, and I shall have occasion in a future chapter to refer to some
touching instances of this feature in their character.

The festivities that are observed on the occasion of a marriage are
on a very limited scale. There is a simple procession of the bride,
who is conducted to the home of her future lord by the chieftain,
accompanied by musicians, minstrels, and jesters.[7] A feast ensues,
at which all partake in common, although, as a general rule, the women
are accustomed to eat alone in their own huts. The domestic duties of
a housewife consist mainly in cultivating the homestead, preparing
the daily meals, painting her husband’s body, and dressing his hair.
In this genial climate children require comparatively little care or
attention, infants being carried about everywhere in a kind of band or
scarf.

The Niam-niam have one recreation which is common to nearly the whole
of Africa. A game, known by the Nubians as “mungala,” is constantly
played by all the people of the entire Gazelle districts, and although
perhaps it is not known by the Monbuttoo, it is quite naturalised
among all the negroes as far as the West Coast. It is singular that
this pastime should be so familiar to the Mohammedan Nubians, who
only within the last twenty years have had any intercourse at all with
the negroes of the south; but in all likelihood they received it in
the same way as the guitar,[8] as a legacy from their original home
in Central Africa. The Peulhs devote many successive hours to the
amusement, which requires a considerable facility in ready reckoning;
they call it “wuri.” The game is played likewise by the Foolahs, the
Yolofs, and the Mandingo, on the Senegal. It is found again among the
Kadje, between the Tsad and the Benwe. The recurrence of an object even
trivial as this is an evidence, in its degree, indirect and collateral,
of the essential unity that underlies all African nations.

[Sidenote: GAME OF MUNGALA.]

The “mungala” itself[9] is a long piece of wood, in which two parallel
rows of holes are scooped out. Nubian boards have sixteen holes, the
Niam-niam have eighteen. Each player has about two dozen stones, and
the skill of the game consists in adroitly transferring the stones
from one hole to another. In default of a board the game is frequently
played upon the bare ground, in which little cavities are made for the
purpose.

Having thus detailed their warlike demeanour, their domestic industry,
and their common pastime, I would not omit to mention that the
Niam-niam are no strangers to enjoyments of a more refined and ideal
character than battles and elephant-hunts. They have an instinctive
love of art. Music rejoices their very soul. The harmonies they elicit
from their favourite instrument, the mandolin, seem almost to thrill
through the chords of their inmost nature. The prolonged duration of
some of their musical productions is very surprising. Piaggia, before
me, has remarked that he believed a Niam-niam would go on playing all
day and all night, without thinking to leave off either to eat or to
drink; and although I am quite aware of the voracious propensities of
the people, I am half-inclined to believe that Piaggia was right.

One favourite instrument there is, which is something between a harp
and a mandolin. It resembles the former in the vertical arrangement
of its strings, whilst in common with the mandolin it has a
sounding-board, a neck, and screws for tightening the strings. The
sounding-board is constructed on strict acoustic principles. It has two
apertures; it is carved out of wood, and on the upper side is covered
by a piece of skin; the strings are tightly stretched by means of pegs,
and are sometimes made of fine threads of bast, and sometimes of the
wiry hairs from the tail of the giraffe. The music is very monotonous,
and it is very difficult to distinguish any actual melody in it. It
invariably is an accompaniment to a moaning kind of recitative, which
is rendered with a decided nasal intonation. I have not unfrequently
seen friends marching about arm-in-arm, wrapt in the mutual enjoyment
of their performance, and beating time to every note by nodding their
heads.

There is a singular class of professional musicians, who make their
appearance decked out in the most fantastic way with feathers, and
covered with a promiscuous array of bits of wood and roots and all the
pretentious emblems of magical art, the feet of earth-pigs, the shells
of tortoises, the beaks of eagles, the claws of birds, and teeth in
every variety. Whenever one of this fraternity presents himself, he at
once begins to recite all the details of his travels and experiences in
an emphatic recitative, and never forgets to conclude by an appeal to
the liberality of his audience, and to remind them that he looks for a
reward either of rings of copper or of beads. Under minor differences
of aspect, these men may be found nearly everywhere in Africa. Baker
and some other travellers have dignified them with the romantic name of
“minne-singers,” but the designation of “hashash” (buffoons) bestowed
upon them by the Arabs of the Soudan would more fairly describe their
true character. The Niam-niam themselves exhibit the despicable light
in which they regard them by calling them “nzangah,”[10] which is the
same term as that by which they designate those abandoned women who
pollute Africa no less than every civilized country.

[Sidenote: ZANDEY DIALECT.]

The language of the Niam-niam (or, to speak more properly, the Zandey
dialect), as entirely as any of the dialects which prevail throughout
the Babr-el-Ghazal district, is an upshoot from the great root which
is the original of every tongue in Africa north of the equator, and is
especially allied to the Nubio-Lybian group. Although the pronunciation
is upon the whole marked and distinct, there are still certain sounds
which are subject to a considerable modification, even when uttered
by the same individual. The nasal tone which is given to the open
sounds of _a_ and _e_ as they rise from the throat fix a character
upon the articulation that is quite distinct from that of the Bongo,
and altogether the dialect is poorer in etymological construction,
being deficient in any separate tenses for the verbs; it is, moreover,
far less vocalised, and has a cumbrousness which arises from the
preponderance of its consonants.

The language is undoubtedly very wanting in expressions for abstract
ideas. For the Divinity I found that many interpreters would employ the
word “gumbah,” which signifies “lightning,” whilst, in contrast with
this, other interpreters would make use of the term “bongbottumu;” but
I imagine that this latter expression is only a kind of a periphrasis
of the Mohammedan “rasool” (a prophet, or messenger of God), because
“mbottumu” is their ordinary term by which they would designate any
common messenger or envoy.

Although none of the natives of the Gazelle district may be credited
with the faintest conception of true religion, the Niam-niam have an
expression of their own for “prayer” as an act of worship, such as
they see it practised by the Mohammedans. This word is “borru.” When,
however, the expression is examined, it is found really to relate to
the augury which it is the habit of the people to consult before they
enter upon any important undertaking.

The augury to which I have thus been led to refer is consulted in the
following way. From the wood of the _Sarcocephalus Russegeri_, which
they call “damma,” a little four-legged stool is made, like the benches
used by the women. The upper surface of this is rendered perfectly
smooth. A block of wood of the same kind is then cut, of which one end
is also made quite smooth. After having wetted the top of the stool
with a drop or two of water, they grasp the block and rub its smooth
part backwards and forwards over the level surface with the same motion
as if they were using a plane. If the wood should glide easily along,
the conclusion is drawn that the undertaking in question will assuredly
prosper; but if, on the other hand, the motion is obstructed and the
surfaces adhere together—if, according to the Niam-niam expression, a
score of men could not give free movement to the block—the warning is
unmistakable that the adventure will prove a failure.

Now, since they also use this term “borru” to describe the prayers of
the Mohammedans, there seems some reasonable evidence for supposing
that they actually regard this rubbing as akin to a form of worship. As
often as I asked any of the Niam-niam what they called prayers, they
invariably replied by referring to this practice and by making the
gesture which I compare to working with a plane. This praying-machine
is concealed as carefully as may be from the eyes of the Mohammedans.
It was, however, frequently resorted to during the subsequent brief
period of warfare, when my own Niam-niam attendants diligently
consulted the oracle, and, as the result was uniformly satisfactory, it
contributed not a little to confirm their confidence in my reputation
for good luck.

There are other ordeals common to the Niam-niam with various negro
nations, and which are considered as of equal or still greater
importance. An oily fluid, concocted from a red wood called “bengye,”
is administered to a hen. If the bird dies, there will be misfortune
in war; if the bird survives, there will be victory. Another mode of
trying their fortune consists in seizing a cock, and ducking its head
repeatedly under water until the creature is stiff and senseless. They
then leave it to itself. If it should rally, they draw an omen that is
favourable to their design; whilst if it should succumb, they look for
an adverse issue.

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM AUGURIES.]

A Niam-niam could hardly be induced to go to war without first
consulting the auguries, and his reliance upon their revelations is
very complete. For instance, Wando, our inveterate antagonist, although
he had succeeded in rousing two districts to open enmity against us,
yet personally abstained from attacking our caravan, and that for no
other reason than that his fowl had died after swallowing the “bengye”
that had been administered. We awaited his threatened attack, and were
full of surprise that he did not appear. Shortly afterwards, we were
informed that he had withdrawn in fear and trembling to an inaccessible
retreat in the wilderness. Our relief was considerable. It might have
fared very badly with us, as all our magazines were established on his
route; but, happily, he had gone, and the Niam-niam with whom we were
brought in contact stoutly maintained that it was the death of his fowl
alone which had deterred him from an assault and had rescued us from
entire destruction.

These auguries are consulted likewise in order to ascertain the guilt
or innocence of any that are accused, and suspected witches are tried
by the same ordeal.

The same belief in evil spirits and goblins which prevails among the
Bongo and other people of Central Africa is found here. The forest is
uniformly supposed to be the abode of the hostile agencies, and the
rustling of the foliage is imagined to be their mysterious dialogue.
Superstition, like natural religion, is a child of the soil, and
germinating like the flowers of the field it unfolds its inmost
secrets. Beneath the dull leaden skies of the distant North there are
believed to be structures haunted by ghosts and spectres. Here the
forest, with its tenantry of owls and bats, is held to be the abode of
malignant spirits; whilst betwixt both are the Oriental nations, who,
without forests, and exposed to the full strength of a blazing sun,
fear nothing so much as “the evil eye.” Truly it may be averred that
the development of superstition is dependent upon geographical position.

In thus recapitulating the general characteristics of the Niam-niam,
this chapter necessarily has exhibited some measure of repetition. I
will proceed to conclude it, in the same manner as the record of the
Bongo, by a few remarks upon the customs of this people with regard to
their dead.

Whenever a Niam-niam has lost any very near relative the first token
of his bereavement is shown by his shaving his head. His elaborate
coiffure—that which had been his pride and his delight, the labour of
devoted conjugal hands—is all ruthlessly destroyed, the tufts, the
braids, the tresses being scattered far and wide about the roads in the
recesses of the wilderness.

A corpse is ordinarily adorned, as if for a festival, with skins and
feathers. It is usually dyed with red wood. Men of rank, after being
attired with their common aprons, are interred either sitting on their
benches, or are enclosed in a kind of coffin, which is made from a
hollow tree.

According to the prescriptions of the law of Islam, the earth is not
thrown upon the corpse, which is placed in a cavity that has been
partitioned off at the side of the grave. This is a practice mentioned
before, and which is followed in many heathen parts of Africa.

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM GRAVES.]

Like the Bongo, the Niam-niam bury their dead with a scrupulous regard
to the points of the compass; but it is remarkable that they reverse
the rule, the men in their sepulture being deposited with their faces
towards the east, the women towards the west.

A grave is covered in with clay, which is thoroughly stamped down. Over
the spot a hut is erected, in no respect differing externally from the
huts of the living, and being equally perishable in its construction,
it very soon either rots away through neglect or is destroyed in the
annual conflagration of the steppe-burning.

[Illustration: Genealogical Table]

GENEALOGICAL TABLE OF THE REIGNING NIAM-NIAM PRINCES IN 1870.

MABENGEH.*

_Endeneh_

Yapaty*
Renjy
Batyah
Bendo
_Neende_
_Indimma_
_Ondugba_
_Balia_
_Bagirsa_
Ringhio
Balia
Perkye
Tombo*
_Nunga_
_Samuel_
Bazimbey*
_Ingerria_
_Wando_
_Mbeeoh_
_Malingde_
_Ingimma_
_Garia_
Mofio
Bazeeah
Nduppo*
Rikkete
Munuba*
_Nganye_
Imbolutidoo
Matindoo
Bendo
Mbehly
Gumba
Imma
Mango
Nyongalia
Mbagahly
(surnamed Surroor)

Ndeynh*
Keefa* (surnamed Ntikkima)
_Kanna_ surnamed Bendy
Limba
Bakingeh
Mbittima
Ghendwa
_Ngurra_
_Mangeh_
_Indimma_

Ezo*—Of doubtful relationship with the line of Mabengeh
_Ngettoh_
_Nderuma_
_Ngettue_

_Note._—The names of reigning princes are printed in italics. The
names of deceased princes are marked thus *.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] In the ‘Bolletino della Soc. Geogr. Italiana,’ 1868,
pp. 91-168, the Marquis O. Antinori has, from the
verbal communications of the traveller himself, most
conscientiously collected Piaggia’s experiences and
observations in the country of the Niam-niam during
his residence.

[2] It should again be mentioned that the word Niam-niam
is a dissyllable, and has the Italian pronunciation of
Gnam-gnam.

[3] The accompanying illustration (page 10) gives examples
of five different forms of trumbash.

[4] The brewing of beer from malted eleusine is practised
in many of the heathen negro countries; and in South
Africa the Makalaka, a branch of the great Bantoo
race, are said to devote a considerable attention to
it.

[5] “Bodimoh,” in the Zandey dialect, has also the meaning
of “papyrus.”

[6] Of the thirty-five chieftains who rule over these
48,000 square miles of territory, comparatively few
in any way merit the designation of king. The most
powerful are Kanna and Mofio, whose dominions are in
extent equal to about a dozen of the others.

[7] Among the Kaffirs the ceremony of conducting a bride
to her new home is observed with much formality.

[8] _Vide_ vol. i. chap. ix.

[9] A mungala board is represented in Fig. 14 of the plate
illustrating Niam-niam handicraft.

[10] In Loango all exorcists and conjurors are called
“ganga,” an appellation which would appear to have the
same derivation as this Zandey word “nzangah.” The
“Griots” in Senegambia are held in the same contempt
as the Niam-niam minstrels.

CHAPTER XIV.

Mohammed’s friendship for Munza. Invitation to an audience. Solemn
escort to the royal halls. Waiting for the King. Architecture of
the halls. Grand display of ornamental weapons. Fantastic attire
of the sovereign. Features and expression. Stolid composure.
Offering gifts. _Toilette_ of Munza’s wives. The king’s
mode of smoking. Use of the cola-nut. Musical performances,
Court fool. Court eunuch. Munza’s oration. Monbuttoo hymn.
Munza’s gratitude. A present of a house. Curiosity of natives.
Skull-market. Niam-niam envoys. Fair complexion of natives.
Visit from Munza’s wives. Triumphal procession. A bath under
_surveillance_. Discovery of the sword-bean. Munza’s castle
and private apartments. Reserve on geographical subjects.
Non-existence of Piaggia’s lake. My dog exchanged for a pygmy.
Goats of the Momvoo. Extract of meat. Khartoomers’ stations in
Monbuttoo country. Mohammed’s plan for proceeding southwards.
Temptation to penetrate farther towards interior. Money and
good fortune. Great festival. Cæsar dances, Munza’s visits. The
Guinea-hog. My washing-tub.

Munza was impatiently awaiting the arrival of the Khartoomers. His
storehouses were piled to the full with ivory, the hunting booty of
an entire year, which he was eager to exchange for the produce of the
north or to see replaced by new supplies of the red ringing metal which
should flow into his treasury.

This was Mohammed’s third visit to the country, and not only interested
motives prompted the king to receive him warmly, but real attachment;
for the two had mutually pledged their friendship in their blood,
and called each other by the name of brother. During his absence in
Khartoom, Mohammed had entrusted the command of the expedition of the
previous year to his brother Abd-el-fetah, a Mussulman of the purest
water and a hypocritical fanatic, who had greatly offended the king by
his arrogance and unsympathetic reserve. He considered himself defiled
by contact with a “Kaffir,” and would not allow a nigger to approach
within ten steps of his person; he refused to acknowledge either
African king or prince, and always designated the ladies of the court
as slaves. But Mohammed was entirely different. By all the natives
he was known by his unassuming title of “Mbahly,” _i.e._, the little
one, and in all his dealings with them he was urbanity itself. He won
every heart by adopting the national costume, and attired in his native
rokko-coat and scarlet plume, he would sit for hours together over the
brimming beer-flasks by the side of his royal _confrère_, recounting
to him all the wonders of the world and twitting him with his cannibal
propensities. No wonder then that Munza’s daily question to Mohammed’s
people had been: “When will Mbahly come?” and no wonder that, as we
were preparing to cross the great river, his envoys had met us with a
cordial greeting for his friend. Nor was the attachment all on Munza’s
side. Immediately on our arrival, Mohammed, leaving the organization
of our encampment entirely to the discretion of his lieutenants, had
gathered up his store of presents, and hastened to convey them to the
king. The greater part of these offerings consisted of huge copper
dishes, not destined, however, in this remote corner of the globe to be
relegated to the kitchen, but to be employed for the far more dignified
office of furnishing music for the royal halls. The interview was long,
and our large encampment was complete and night was rapidly approaching
before Mohammed returned to his quarters. He came accompanied by the
triumphal strain of horns and kettle-drums, and attended by thousands
of natives bearing the ample store of provisions which, at the king’s
commands, had been instantly forthcoming. He announced that I was
invited to an audience of the king on the following morning, and that
a state reception was to be prepared in honour of my visit. It need
hardly be said that it was with feelings of wonder and curiosity that I
lay down that night to rest.

[Sidenote: SUMMONS TO THE KING.]

The 22nd of March, 1870, was the memorable date on which my
introduction to the king occurred. Long before I was stirring, Mohammed
had once more betaken himself to the royal quarters. On leaving my
tent, my attention was immediately attracted to the opposite slopes,
and a glance at the wide space between the king’s palace and the houses
of his retinue was sufficient to assure me that unusual animation
prevailed. Crowds of swarthy negroes were surging to and fro; others
were hurrying along in groups, and ever and anon the wild tones of
the kettle-drum could be heard even where I was standing. Munza was
assembling his courtiers and inspecting his elephant-hunters, whilst
from far and near streamed in the heads of households to open the
ivory-mart with Mohammed, and to negotiate with him for the supply of
his provisions.

Somewhat impatiently I stood awaiting my summons to the king, but
it was already noon before I was informed that all arrangements
were complete, and that I was at liberty to start. Mohammed’s black
body-guard was sent to escort me, and his trumpeters had orders to
usher me into the royal presence with a flourish of the Turkish
_reveille_. For the occasion I had donned a solemn suit of black. I
wore my unfamiliar cloth-coat, and laced up the heavy Alpine boots,
that should give importance to the movements of my light figure; watch
and chain were left behind, that no metal ornament might be worn about
my person. With all the solemnity I could I marched along; three black
squires bore my rifles and revolver, followed by a fourth with my
inevitable cane-chair. Next in order, and in awestruck silence, came my
Nubian servants, clad in festive garments of unspotted whiteness, and
bearing in their hand the offerings that had been so long and carefully
reserved for his Monbuttoo majesty.

It took us half an hour to reach the royal residence. The path
descended in a gentle slope to the wooded depression of the brook, then
twisted itself for a time amid the thickets of the valley, and finally
once more ascended, through extensive plantain-groves, to the open
court that was bounded by a wide semicircle of motley dwellings. On
arrival at the low parts of the valley we found the swampy jungle-path
bestrewn with the stems of fresh-hewn trees and a bridge of the same
thrown across the water itself. The king could hardly have been
expected to suggest such peculiar attention of his own accord, but
this provisionary arrangement for keeping my feet dry was made in
compliance with a kindly hint from Mohammed, who, knowing the nature
of my boots, and the time expended in taking them off and on, had
thus thoughtfully insured my ease and comfort; moreover, these boots
were unique in the African world, and must be preserved from mud and
moisture. Unfortunately all these arrangements tended to confirm the
Monbuttoo in one or other of their infatuated convictions, either that
my feet were like goats’ hoofs, or, according to another version, that
the firm leather covering was itself an integral part of my body. The
idea of goats’ feet had probably arisen from the comparison of my hair
and that of a goat; and doubtless the stubbornness with which I always
refused to uncover my feet for their inspection strengthened them in
their suspicion.

[Sidenote: WAITING FOR THE KING.]

As we approached the huts, the drums and trumpets were sounded to
their fullest powers, and the crowds of people pressing forward on
either hand left but a narrow passage for our procession. We bent our
steps to one of the largest huts, which formed a kind of palatial hall
open like a shed at both ends. Waiting my arrival here was one of the
officers of state, who, I presume, was the master of the ceremonies,
as I afterwards observed him presiding over the general festivities.
This official took me by the right hand, and without a word conducted
me to the interior of the hall. Here, like the audience at a concert,
were arranged according to their rank hundreds of nobles and courtiers,
each occupying his own ornamental bench and decked out with all his
war equipments. At the other end of the building a space was left for
the royal throne, which differed in no respect from the other benches,
except that it stood upon an outspread mat; behind this bench was
placed a large support of singular construction, resting as it seemed
upon three legs, and furnished with projections that served as props
for the back and arms of the sitter: this support was thickly studded
with copper rings and nails. I requested that my own chair might be
placed at a few paces from the royal bench, and there I took up my
position with my people standing or squatting behind me, and the Nubian
soldiers forming a guard around. The greater number of the soldiers had
their guns, but my black squires, who had never before been brought
face to face with so mighty a potentate, subsequently confessed to me
that their hearts beat fast, and that they could not help trembling to
think how a sign from Munza could have brought all our limbs to the
spit.

For a considerable time I had to sit waiting in expectation before
the empty throne. My servants informed me that Munza had attended the
market in his ordinary costume, but that he had been seen to hasten
home to his private apartments, where he was now undergoing a process
of anointing, frizzling, and bedizening at the hands of his wives, in
order that he should appear before me in the imposing splendour of his
state attire. I had thus no other alternative than patiently to abide
my time; for what could be more flattering to a foreign guest than for
a king to receive him in his costliest toilet?

In the interval of waiting there seemed a continuous uproar. The fitful
beating of kettle-drums and the perpetual braying of horns resounded
through the airy building until it shook again, and mingling with
the boisterous strains rose the voices of the assembled courtiers as
they whiled away the time in loud and eager conversation. There was
no doubt that I was myself the main cause of their excitement; for
although I sat with my back to the majority, I could not be otherwise
than quite aware that all eyes were intently fixed upon me. All,
however, kept their seats at a respectful distance, so that I could
calmly look about me and note down my observations of what I saw.

The hall itself was the chief object that attracted my attention. It
was at least a hundred feet in length, forty feet high, and fifty
broad. It had been quite recently completed, and the fresh bright look
of the materials gave it an enlivening aspect, the natural brown polish
of the wood-work looking as though it were gleaming with the lustre of
new varnish. Close by was a second and more spacious hall, which in
height was only surpassed by the loftiest of the surrounding oil-palms;
but this, although it had only been erected five years previously,
had already begun to show symptoms of decay, and being enclosed on
all sides was dark, and therefore less adapted for the gathering at a
public spectacle. Considering the part of Africa in which these halls
were found, one might truly be justified in calling them wonders of the
world; I hardly know with all our building resources what material we
could have employed, except it were whalebone, of sufficient lightness
and durability to erect structures like these royal halls of Munza,
capable of withstanding the tropical storms and hurricanes. The bold
arch of the vaulted roof was supported on three long rows of pillars
formed from perfectly straight tree-stems; the countless spars and
rafters as well as the other parts of the building being composed
entirely of the leaf-stalks of the wine-palm (_Raphia vinifera_).[11]
The floor was covered with a dark red clay plaster, as firm and smooth
as asphalt. The sides were enclosed by a low breastwork, and the space
between this and the arching roof, which at the sides sloped nearly to
the ground, allowed light and air to pass into the building. Outside
against the breastwork stood crowds of natives, probably the “great
unwashed” of the Monbuttoo, who were unable to obtain places within,
and contented themselves with eagerly gazing through this opening at
the proceedings. Officials with long sticks went their rounds and
kept order among the mob, making free use of their sticks whenever it
was necessary; all boys who ventured uninvited into the hall being
vigorously beaten back as trespassers.

[Sidenote: THE ROYAL APPROACH.]

I had probably been left for an hour, and was getting lost in the
contemplation of all the wonders, when a louder sound of voices and an
increasing clang of horns and kettledrums led me to suppose that there
was an announcement of the approach of the king; but, no, this was only
a prelude. The sovereign was still being painted and beautified by the
hands of his fair ones. There was, however, a fresh and increasing
commotion near the entrance of the hall, where a number of ornamental
weapons was being arranged. Posts were driven into the ground, and
long poles were fastened horizontally across them; then against this
extemporized scaffolding were laid, or supported crosswise, hundreds of
ornamental lances and spears, all of pure copper, and of every variety
of form and shape. The gleam of the red metal caught the rays of the
tropical noontide sun, and in the symmetry of their arrangement the
rows of dazzling lance-heads shone with the glow of flaming torches,
making a background to the royal throne that was really magnificent.
The display of wealth, which according to Central African tradition was
incalculable, was truly regal, and surpassed anything of the kind that
I had conceived possible.

A little longer and the weapons are all arranged. The expected king has
left his home. There is a running to and fro of heralds, marshals, and
police. The thronging masses flock towards the entrance, and silence
is proclaimed. The king is close at hand. Then come the trumpeters
flourishing away on their huge ivory horns; then the ringers swinging
their cumbrous iron bells; and now, with a long firm stride, looking
neither to the right nor to the left, wild, romantic; picturesque alike
in mien and in attire, comes the tawny Cæsar himself! He was followed
by a number of his favoured wives. Without vouchsafing me a glance, he
flung himself upon his unpretending chair of state, and sat with his
eyes fixed upon his feet. Mohammed had joined the retinue of his royal
friend, and took up his position opposite me on the other side of the
king on a stool that was brought for his accommodation. He also had
arrayed himself in a suitable dress in honour of the occasion, and now
sat in the imposing uniform of a commander of Arnauts.

I could now feast my eyes upon the fantastic figure of the ruler. I was
intensely interested in gazing at the strange weird-looking sovereign,
of whom it was commonly reported that his daily food was human flesh.
With arms and legs, neck and breast, all bedizened with copper rings,
chains, and other strange devices, and with a great copper crescent
at the top of his head, the potentate gleamed with a shimmer that was
to our ideas unworthy of royalty, but savoured far too much of the
magazines of civic opulence, reminding one almost unavoidably of a
well-kept kitchen! His appearance, however, was decidedly marked with
his nationality, for every adornment that he had about him belonged
exclusively to Central Africa, as none but the fabrications of his
native land are deemed worthy of adorning the person of a king of the
Monbuttoo.

[Sidenote: THE ROYAL COSTUME.]

Agreeably to the national fashion a plumed hat rested on the top of
his chignon, and soared a foot and a half above his head; this hat was
a narrow cylinder of closely-plaited reeds; it was ornamented with
three layers of red parrots’ feathers, and crowned with a plume of
the same; there was no brim, but the copper crescent projected from
the front like the vizor of a Norman helmet. The muscles of Munza’s
ears were pierced, and copper bars as thick as the finger inserted in
the cavities. The entire body was smeared with the native unguent of
powdered cam-wood, which converted the original bright brown tint of
his skin into the colour that is so conspicuous in ancient Pompeian
halls. With the exception of being of an unusually fine texture, his
single garment differed in no respect from what was worn throughout the
country; it consisted of a large piece of fig bark impregnated with the
same dye that served as his cosmetic, and this, falling in graceful
folds about his body, formed breeches and waistcoat all in one. Round
thongs of buffalo-hide, with heavy copper balls attached to the ends,
were fastened round the waist in a huge knot, and like a girdle held
the coat, which was neatly-hemmed. The material of the coat was so
carefully manipulated that it had quite the appearance of a rich _moiré
antique_. Around the king’s neck hung a copper ornament made in little
points which radiated like beams all over his chest; on his bare arms
were strange-looking pendants which in shape could only be compared to
drumsticks with rings at the end. Halfway up the lower part of the arms
and just below the knee were three bright, horny-looking circlets cut
out of hippopotamus-hide, likewise tipped with copper. As a symbol of
his dignity Munza wielded in his right hand the sickle-shaped Monbuttoo
scimitar, in this case only an ornamental weapon, and made of pure
copper.

As soon as the king had taken his seat, two little tables, beautifully
carved, were placed on either side of his throne, and on these stood
the dainties of which he continually partook, but which were carefully
concealed by napkins of fig-bark; in addition to these tables, some
really artistic flasks of porous clay were brought in, full of drinking
water.

Such was Munza, the autocrat of the Monbuttoo, with whom I was now
brought face to face. He appeared as the type of those half-mythical
potentates, a species of Mwata Yanvo or Great Makoko, whose names
alone have penetrated to Europe, a truly savage monarch, without a
trace of anything European or Oriental in his attire, and with nothing
fictitious or borrowed to be attributed to him.

He was a man of about forty years of age, of a fair height, of a slim
but powerful build, and, like the rest of his countrymen, stiff and
erect in figure. Although belonging to a type by no means uncomely,
his features were far from prepossessing, but had a Nero-like
expression that told of _ennui_ and satiety. He had small whiskers and
a tolerably thick beard; his profile was almost orthognatic, but the
perfectly Caucasian nose offered a remarkable contrast to the thick and
protruding negro lips. In his eyes gleamed the wild light of animal
sensuality, and around his mouth lurked an expression that I never saw
in any other Monbuttoo, a combination of avarice, violence, and love of
cruelty that could with the extremest difficulty relax into a smile. No
spark of love or affection could beam forth from such features as his.

A considerable time elapsed before the king looked directly at the
pale-faced man with the long hair and the tight black clothes who now
for the first time appeared before him. I held my hat in my hand, but
no greeting had as yet taken place, for, observing that everyone kept
his seat when the king entered the hall, I had done the same, and now
waited for him to address me. The wild uproar of the cannibals still
continued, and Munza, sitting in a careless attitude, only raised his
eyes now and then from their fixed stare upon the ground as though to
scan the whole assemblage, but in reality to take stray glances at my
person, and in this way, little by little, he satisfied his curiosity.
I could not help marvelling at the composure of this wild African,
and wondering where in the world he could have learnt his dignity and
self-possession.

[Sidenote: THE ROYAL RECEPTION.]

At length the monarch began to ask me some questions. They were
fluently translated into the Zandey dialect by the chief interpreter,
who always played a principal part in our intercourse with the natives.
The Niam-niam in their turn rendered the sense to me in Arabic. The
conversation, however, was of the most commonplace character, and
referred neither to the purpose of my coming nor to the country from
which I came. Munza’s interrogations brought to my mind the rough
reception afforded to Reinhold Forster, the companion of the renowned
Captain Cook, by Frederick the Great, who bluntly asked him if he had
ever seen a king? “Yes, your Majesty,” was the answer, “several; two
tame and three savage.” Munza appeared extremely anxious to keep up
to an Oriental measure the principle of _nil admirari_; nothing could
disturb his composure, and even at my subsequent visits, where there
was no state ceremonial, he maintained a taciturnity nearly as resolute.

My servants now brought forth the presents I had brought and spread
them at the king’s feet. These consisted, in the first place, of a
piece of black cloth, a telescope, a silver platter, and a porcelain
vase; the silver was taken for white iron, and the porcelain for carved
ivory. The next gift was a real piece of carved ivory, brought as a
specimen to show the way in which the material is employed; there was a
book with gilt edges, a gift which could not fail to recall to my mind
the scene in which Speke describes Kamrasi’s first lesson in the Bible;
then came a double mirror, that both magnified and reduced what it
reflected; and last, though by no means least, was a large assortment
of beads of Venetian glass, including thirty necklaces, composed of
thirty distinct pieces, so that Munza was in possession of more than
a thousand separate beads.[12] The universal principle followed by
the Nubians forbade that any presents of firearms should be made to
native rulers. Munza regarded all these offerings with great attention,
but without committing himself to any audible expression of approval.
Not so his fifty wives, who were seated on stools arranged behind his
throne; they gave frequent half-suppressed utterances of surprise,
and the double mirror was passed admiringly from hand to hand, its
contortions eliciting shouts of delight.

There were fifty of these ladies present: they were only the most
intimate, or wives of the first rank, the entire number of court ladies
being far larger. Except in the greater elegance of their attire, they
departed in no way from the fashion of the country, the description of
which must be deferred for the present.

After a time Munza turned his attention to his refreshments. As far as
I could distinguish them, they consisted of lumps of plantain-meal and
tapioca piled on leaves, of dried plantains, and of a fruit which to
my surprise I immediately recognised as the cola-nut of the west. From
this rosy-shelled kernel the king cut a few slices, and chewed them
in the intervals of smoking his tobacco. His pipe, in the shape of an
iron stem six feet long, was handed to him by a chibbukchak, who was in
attendance for that purpose. Very remarkable was the way in which Munza
smoked. To bring himself into the correct position he threw himself far
back in his seat, supported his right elbow on the arm-rest, put one
leg across the other, and with his left hand received the pipe-stem. In
this attitude he gravely took one long inhalation, then, with a haughty
gesture, resigned his pipe to the hands of his attendant and allowed
the smoke slowly to reissue from his mouth. It is a habit among Turks
of rank to smoke thus by taking only two or three inhalations from a
pipe handed to them by their servants; but where, again, may I ask,
could this cannibal prince have learnt such a custom?

To my request for a cola-nut the king responded by graciously passing
me a specimen with his own hand. Turning to Mohammed, I expressed my
surprise at beholding this fruit of the far west amongst the Monbuttoo;
I told him of its high value[13] as a spice in Bornoo, where it is
worth its weight in silver, and I went on to say that it confirmed my
impression that the Welle was identical with the river of Baghirmy,
called the Shary, and that this nut accordingly came to me like a
key to a problem that I was seeking to solve. Then again addressing
Munza, I made him understand that I knew the fruit, and pointing in
the direction of Lake Tsad, I told him that there it was eaten by the
great people of the country. I hoped in this way to induce him to give
me some information on the subject; but he had made up his mind to be
astonished at nothing, nor could I ever even on future occasions draw
him into a geographical discussion. All that I could learn was that the
cola-nut grew wild in the country, and that it was called “nangweh” by
the natives, who were accustomed to chew it in the intervals of their
smoking.

[Sidenote: THE ROYAL ENTERTAINMENT.]

The performances that had been prepared for our entertainment now
commenced. First of all a couple of horn-blowers stepped forward,
and proceeded to execute solos upon their instruments. These men
were advanced proficients in their art, and brought forth sounds of
such power, compass, and flexibility that they could be modulated
from sounds like the roar of a hungry lion, or the trumpeting of an
infuriated elephant, down to tones which might be compared to the
sighing of the breeze or to a lover’s whisper. One of them, whose
ivory horn was so huge that he could scarcely hold it in a horizontal
position, executed rapid passages and shakes with as much neatness and
decision as though he were performing on a flute.

Next appeared a number of professional singers and jesters, and amongst
them a little plump fellow, who acted the part of a pantomime clown,
and jumped about and turned somersaults till his limbs looked like
the arms of a windmill; he was covered from head to foot with bushy
tufts and pigtails, and altogether his appearance was so excessively
ludicrous that, to the inward delight of the king, I burst into a
hearty fit of laughter. I called him a court fool, and in many respects
be fully deserved the title. I hardly know why the Nubians should have
drawn my attention, as though to something quite new, to the wooden
Monbuttoo scimitar that he wore in his girdle. His jokes and pranks
seemed never-ending, and he was permitted to take liberties with every
one, not excepting even Munza himself; and amongst other tricks he
would approach the king with his right hand extended, and just as Munza
had got hold of it, would start backwards and make off with a bound.
A short time before he appeared, some freshly baked ears of maize,
the first of the season, had been laid before me; of this delicacy
the fool, with the most comical gestures, made me comprehend that he
wished to partake; I therefore took up some detached grains, and threw
them, one by one, into his open mouth; he caught them with a snap, and
devoured them with such comical grimaces, that the performance called
forth a roar of applause from the whole assembly.

The next episode consisted of the performances of a eunuch, who
formed a butt for the wit of the spectators. How Munza had come into
possession of this creature, no one seemed to know, and I could only
learn that he was employed in the inner parts of the palace. He was
a fat grotesque-looking figure, and when he sang looked exactly like
a grunting baboon; to add to the oddity of his appearance, Munza, as
though in mockery of his Nubian guests, had had him arrayed in a red
fez, and thus he was the only one in all the immense concourse of
natives who had anything foreign in his attire.

[Sidenote: THE ROYAL ORATI0N.]

But the most important part of the programme was reserved for the end:
Munza was to make an oration. Whilst all the audience remained quietly
seated on their stools and benches, up jumped the king, loosened his
coat, cleared his throat, and commenced his harangue. Of course I
could not understand a single word, and a double interpretation would
have been worse than useless: but, from what I could see and hear,
it was evident that Munza endeavoured to be choice and emphatic in
his language, as not only did he often correct himself, but he made
pauses after the sentences that he intended to be impressive, to
allow for the applause of his auditors. Then the shout of “Ee, ee,
tchupy, tchupy, ee, Munza, ee,” resounded from every throat, and the
musical instruments caught up the strain, until the uproar was truly
demoniacal. Several times after this chorus, and as if to stimulate
the tumult, Munza uttered a stentorian “brrr—”[14] with a voice so
sonorous that the very roof vibrated, and the swallows fled in terror
from their nests in the eaves.

The kettle-drums and horns now struck up a livelier and more rhythmical
strain, and Munza assumed a new character and proceeded to beat time
with all the solemnity of a conductor. His _bâton_ was something like a
baby’s rattle, and consisted of a hollow sphere of basket-work filled
with pebbles and shells, and attached to a stick.[15]

The discourse lasted full half an hour, during which time I took the
portrait of the king that forms the frontispiece to this book. Hunger
at length compelled me to take my leave of the sovereign and retrace my
steps to the camp. At parting Munza said to me, “I do not know what to
give you in return for all your presents; I am sorry I am so poor and
have nothing to offer you.” Fascinated by his modesty and indulging the
idea that it was only a preface to a munificent gift worthy of royalty,
I replied, “Don’t mention that: I did not come for what I could get; we
buy ivory from the Turks, and pay them with yellow lead and white iron,
and we make white stuffs and powder and guns for ourselves. I only ask
for two things: a pig (_Potamochœrus_) and a chimpanzee.”

“You shall certainly have them,” said Munza; but I was thoroughly
deceived, and, in spite of my repeated reminders, neither pig nor
chimpanzee ever appeared.

As I left the hall the king commenced a new oration. As for myself, I
was so thoroughly fatigued with the noise and tumult, that I was glad
to spend the remainder of this memorable day quietly in my tent.

Early on the following morning I was aroused by my people, who begged
me to come out and see what the king was sending me. Looking down the
road I perceived a group of Monbuttoo, who with a good deal of shouting
were lugging up the hill something that I could not make out. Mohammed
presently hurried up with the surprising announcement that he had made
Munza comprehend that my valuables were all lying out in the open air
and exposed to the rain, and that the king was now sending me a house
as his first present. I thought at first that he was jesting, but a few
minutes sufficed to convince me of the truth of his statement. I then
became aware that about twenty natives were carrying on their shoulders
the substructure of a small quadrilateral house, while others were
following with the roof. A very short time elapsed before they had
mounted the hill and placed the erection in close juxtaposition to my
tent. The light structure, woven together with the Spanish reed, looked
exactly like a huge hamper, with the roof for a lid. It was about
twenty feet long, and sufficiently commodious to contain all my goods,
and was especially useful for protecting my paper packets.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO VISITORS.]

I was thus elevated to the rank and enjoyed the rights of a householder
among the Monbuttoo, and my intercourse with the natives became
more intimate every day. My tent was continually besieged by a host
of curious spectators, of whom the more well-to-do brought their
benches, and, ranged in rows before the opening, watched in silent
eagerness my every movement. Their chiefest interest seemed absorbed in
contemplating my person, although many of the utensils and implements
that surrounded me must have been quite as strange and incomprehensible
to them. These frequent visitors at first afforded me great amusement,
and I received them with friendly gestures, and combed my hair and
shaved _in conspectu omnium_. Nor was the wonder all on their side;
every moment revealed some novelty to myself, and I found full
employment in sketching and taking notes. The great difficulty to our
intercourse was in not understanding one another’s language. Now and
then, however, I managed to get hold of some people who could speak the
Zandey dialect; and then, with the help of my Niam-niam interpreters,
I could ask them questions and get my wishes conveyed to the general
multitude.

“Bring your weapons,” I would say; “bring your weapons, and the produce
of your handicraft, your ornaments and tools, and I will give you
beautiful things in return; bring the fruits of your forests, and the
leaves of the trees on which they grow: bring the skins and skulls of
animals; but above all bring the human skulls that remain over from
your meals: they are of no use to you—bring them, and I will give you
copper in exchange.”

I had rarely occasion to repeat my request, but almost before my wish
was uttered there was opened a regular curiosity mart; goods were
bartered, and a flourishing trade was done.

The stock of bones that was thus brought to me in one day was quite
astonishing, and could not do otherwise than remove any lingering
hesitation I might have in believing the cannibal propensities of
the people. There were piles of every kind—fragments of skulls, and
lower jaw-bones from which the teeth had been extracted to serve as
ornaments for the neck. The belief seemed to be that I had no intention
of dealing otherwise than wholesale. Proofs enough were before me;
sufficient, I should suppose, to silence even the most stubborn
scepticism. It cost me some trouble to convince the people that my
requirements only extended to such skulls as were perfectly uninjured,
and that for such only could I be content to pay. For a perfect skull
I promised an armlet of copper, but I found that nearly all that
were brought to me had been smashed for the purpose of extracting
the brains. Out of the two hundred skulls that were produced, I was
able to select no more than forty, each of which I carefully labelled
for consignment to Europe. The people who brought them professed to
give full particulars about them, as to where they had come from, and
whether they were male or female—details which of course enhanced the
value of the collection. The want of these particulars detracts very
much from the worth of many collections of skulls, for, as regards
the purposes of comparative ethnology, not much information is to be
derived from a skull of which the only explanation is that it came
from Brazil or East Africa. The great majority of those which the
Monbuttoo brought me had been procured from the people who inhabited
the districts south of their own land, and were the result of the
raids that had been made upon them; hardly any were the skulls of the
Monbuttoo themselves. The condition in which I received many of the
fragments afforded indubitable proof that they had been boiled in water
and scraped with knives; and some, I suspect, came straight from the
platters of the natives, inasmuch as they were still moist, and had the
odour of being only just cooked. A good many had all the appearance of
being raked out of old dust-heaps, whilst some few had been found in
the streams, and had manifestly been laved by the water.

[Sidenote: CONTRIBUTION OF SKULLS.]

To those who brought the skulls, I thought it expedient to explain that
we wanted them, so that in our far-off country we could learn all about
the people who dwelt here, and that we were able, from the mere shape
of the head, to tell all about people’s tempers and dispositions, their
good qualities and their bad; and that for this purpose we gathered
skulls together from every quarter of the globe. When the Khartoomers
saw that the collection was now going on for a second year, they were
only the more confirmed in their belief that I submitted them to a
certain process by which I obtained a subtle poison. From the more
dense and stupid natives, the idea could not be eradicated that I
wanted all the bones for my food. To save the honour of Europe, and in
love for the science of which I was the representative, I lavished on
these errors an incense unbefitting the doctrine of Gall’s phrenology.

Among those who day after day entered the camp to pay me a visit,
were several who had come from a great distance, and amongst them
the ambassadors of the neighbouring Niam-niam king, Kanna, whose
territories lie to the west and north-west of the Monbuttoo. The
district had been part of the kingdom of Keefa, a powerful prince,
whose enormous stores of ivory had ever constituted a great attraction
for the expeditions of the Khartoomers, though they seldom travelled
as far as his dominions. Keefa, whose surname was Ntikkima, about two
years before our arrival, had lost his life in a campaign against the
Mabode, a black negro people to the south-west of the Monbuttoo. His
four eldest sons had partitioned his extensive power between them,
and the largest share of land had fallen to the lot of Kanna, who now
sent the deputation to invite Mohammed to visit his country. Mohammed,
meanwhile, had already determined that the land of Kanna should be the
limit of the southward march of a corps that he detached; but time
would not permit us ourselves to make so wide a _détour_. It would
occupy the space of several months.

From these Niam-niam envoys I derived several scraps of information
about the western regions, which threw some light upon the lower course
of the Welle, and of that other stream to the north of it, which,
from the union of several streams that rise in the district of Wando,
appears very soon to become a large and copious river. Between these
two rivers (the Welle and the so-called Bahr-el-Wando, which joins it
in Kanna’s district) was situated the residence of the deceased Keefa,
which, owing to its position, was described in the Arabic way as being
on an island. It was represented as being to the N.N.W. of Munza’s
residence, from which, according to their accounts, it was distant some
forty miles.

I made inquiries amongst them about the white man Piaggia, whom the
Nubians had brought into the country, and who was affirmed to have
visited Keefa’s residence; but my respondent replied that, though
they had heard of him by report, he had never been into the country;
and this corresponded exactly with what had been told me by Ghattas’s
company that had brought Piaggia as far as Tombo.

All that Piaggia communicated about the Niam-niam was very interesting,
and remains uncontested; but he lies open to the reproof of making
fictitious routes. It is evident, moreover, that he arranges the
Niam-niam princes in a false order; for example, he makes Keefa follow
immediately after Malingde or Malindo; and he only assigns a period of
two days for a journey which Antinori, the editor of his reports, has
simply stated to be sixty-five miles. I should congratulate a company
that could get a party of refractory bearers to accomplish more than
a dozen leagues a day, where they would have to cross a dozen brooks
and marshes, many of them taking half an hour to accomplish. Not a
word, moreover, does he utter about the strange people who reside
to the south of the Niam-niam. At Indimma, the population is a very
intermingled race, the Niam-niam scarcely making up one-half, and in
Keefa’s region scarcely making up a minority. Elsewhere Piaggia’s
observations seemed acute enough, but here he has nothing to remark.

[Sidenote: THE KING’S SON.]

Many as were the visitors that I received at my tent, none
awakened greater interest than one of the sons of Munza. The name
of this distinguished personage was Bunza, and he was about the
lightest-skinned individual that I had here beheld. His complexion
could not have been fairer if he had been a denizen of Central Egypt.
His hair was equally pale and grizzly; his tall chignon being not
unlike a bundle of hemp, and standing in marked contrast to the black
tresses which were stretched across the brow. As the hair about
the temples does not grow sufficiently long for this purpose, the
Monbuttoo are accustomed to use false hair; and as fair heads of hair
are somewhat uncommon, false hair to match the original is difficult
to purchase. This young man, of whom I was successful in taking a
deliberate sketch, exhibited all the characteristics of pronounced
albinism, and in truth to a degree which can be often seen in a fair
individual of the true Semitic stock, either Jew or Arabian. The eyes
seemed painfully affected by light, and had a constant objectless
leer; the head, supported on a shrivelled neck, kept nodding with an
involuntary movement, and whenever it rested it was sure to be in some
extraordinary position. Bunza reminded me very vividly of some white
twins that I once saw on the Red Sea: they were fishermen of Djidda,
and looked as like each other as eggs from one nest. I do not know that
I am warranted in drawing any definite inferences from my observation;
but I cannot suppress the remark, that to my mind the Monbuttoo have
the tokens of a Semitic origin most thoroughly impressed upon their
countenance, to which in particular the nose (which does not at all
approach to the common negro outline) very much contributes. Bunza’s
nose was a regular hawk’s-bill.

Of the other members of the royal family, several of Munza’s wives
and his eldest sister came to inspect our camp. This latter woman was
repulsive-looking enough, and did not appear to possess any of the
warlike virtues attributed to one of her sisters named Nalengbe, who
is since dead, but who had once arrayed herself in a man’s dress, and
entered into personal conflict with the Nubians. This weak woman’s
vanity made her the laughing-stock of strangers and acquaintances
alike; she perambulated the camp, displaying the grossest familiarity
with the soldiers. She begged me to make her a present of some lead,
which the Nubians from motives of policy had withheld. Lead was still
in this region as much of a rarity as though it was just discovered,
and produced among them for the first time. Munza’s sister used to
hammer bright ear-rings out of whatever musket-balls she could procure.

One morning about thirty of the royal ladies came, all together, into
the camp to receive the presents which Mohammed had provided for them.
They all had comely, youthful, well-knit figures, and were for the
most part tall, but much cannot be said in favour of their expression.
They emulated each other in the extent of their head-gear and in the
profusion with which they adorned the body. Two of them submitted to
have their portraits taken; the whole party sat in a circle, taking up
their position during the time that I was sketching the likenesses on
the little single-stemmed stools which they had brought with them; when
they took their seats they threw their bands across their laps. Some
of the group stood out in marked contrast to the rest by their light
complexion and fair hair, whilst others approximated very nearly to the
colour of _café-au-lait_. When I had finished my drawing, I was anxious
to show my appreciation of the ladies’ patience, and accordingly
offered to present them with some beads, but they at once begged to
refuse the proffered necklace, explaining that they were not at liberty
to accept presents from any one but “Mbahly” (Aboo Sammat). These they
had come to fetch, but they had had no orders to receive anything from
“Mbarik-pah;” it might arouse suspicion, and suspicion with Munza, the
interpreters insisted, was tantamount to death.

[Sidenote: INTRUDERS.]

However interested I might be, just at first, in the vivacious
movements of the people as they thronged around me, it did not take
long to make me feel that they were a weariness and a nuisance. On the
very next day after our arrival I was obliged to encircle my tent with
a thorn-hedge to keep off the press of the inquisitive crowds; full
many, however, there were who would not be deterred by any obstacle of
this kind; regardless of the obstruction, they penetrated right into
my presence. I was interrupted at every moment by these intrusions. My
next resource was to have a lot of water dashed over the encroaching
rabble, and finding that fail, I fired some trains of gunpowder, and,
in the hopes of alarming the natives, I proceeded to set light to a
few shells; but even the explosions of these did not take much effect.
It seemed as if nothing could keep the curious crowds at a distance,
and, at my wits’ end what to do, I applied to Mohammed for assistance.
He assigned me a guard of men; but even this scheme only partially
succeeded; it answered very well as long as I kept within the bounds
of my asylum, but I had only to venture beyond, and I found my retinue
as large as ever. The majority of those who harassed me in this way
were women, who, by keeping up with me step by step, thoroughly baffled
me in all my attempts to botanize; and if perchance I managed to get
away into the wood, they would find me out, and trample down the rare
flowers I had laboriously collected, till I was almost driven to
despair. When thus escorted by about a hundred women I was marching
down to the streams in the depth of the valleys, I might indulge the
fancy that I was at the head of a triumphal procession, and as often
as our path led us through villages and farms the numbers in the train
were swollen prodigiously.

Sometimes I was in a better mood, and indulged in a little joke. I had
picked up some of their words, and when I shouted one of these out loud
it was taken up merrily by the whole party, and passed on from mouth
to mouth. Their word “hosanna,” for instance, means “it is not,” and
on one occasion having happened to shout out this, I proceeded for
a quarter of an hour while the women around me paused not a moment
in making the air resound with the cry “Hosanna.” Not unfrequently
I would try them with some hard crack-jaw German word, in order to
enjoy their conscientious endeavours to reproduce it; but perhaps best
of all for producing a characteristic scene was the choice of one of
their imitative names of animals, where the appellation is derived from
the sounds uttered by the creatures themselves. A goat is in this way
called “memmeh.” I once seated myself in the centre of a concourse of
women, and drew a picture of a couple of goats, and the keynote being
given, every time a fresh woman came up she found herself greeted with
the universal bleating cry of “Memmeh, memmeh—eh?” “What’s the row?
What’s up?” would be her question. “Memmeh, memmeh” (a goat, a goat),
would be all the answer.

[Sidenote: INQUISITIVENESS.]

These Monbuttoo women, who were so intolerably obtrusive whilst I was
amongst other folks, were reserved enough about themselves; however
much I might be anxious to investigate their domestic habits, I had
but to present myself at the entrances of their huts, and off they
were in an instant to the interior, and their doors barred against all
intrusion.

There were delicious places where, encircled by the luxuriance of a
tropical vegetation, the clear and sparkling pools invited me to the
enjoyment of a safe and refreshing bath, an irresistible attraction
after the numberless mud baths of the Niam-niam country. Everything
seemed to conspire to render the scenery perfect in its bewitching
grace; each winding of the brook would be overarched by a magnificent
canopy of gorgeous foliage; the waving pendants of the blooming shrubs
would shadow the secluded stream; a fantastic wreath of elegant
ferns growing up amongst the goodly leaves of the aroideæ and the
ginger-plants would adorn the banks; gigantic stems, clothed with
accumulated moss, would rise upwards in majestic height and reach
down like steps in romantic beauty to the bathing-place. But, alas!
even this nook, where the delights of paradise seem almost to be
perpetuated, may not be secure from the torment of humanity. It happens
here according to the teaching of the poet, that—

“every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile.”

Nature is only free and perfect where man comes not with his disturbing
foot. In my romantic bathing, this disturbance, ever and again, would
come in the shape of some hideous and inquisitive Monbuttoo woman, who
had posted herself on the overlooking heights, either to enjoy the
picturesque contrast of light and shade, or to gratify her curiosity by
getting a peep at my figure through the openings of the foliage as I
emerged from the dim obscurity of the wood.

A day seldom passed without my making some addition to my botanical
store. Beside a pathway in the wood I chanced to come upon the great
seeds of a legumen which hitherto was quite unknown to me; the natives,
when I showed them to them, told me that the name of the plant which
bore them was the “morokoh;” after a while I succeeded in getting an
entire pod, and recognised it as the produce of the _Entada scandens_,
known in the West Indies as the sword-bean. These seed-vessels attain
a length of five feet, and are about as wide as anyone could span, the
seeds themselves being flat, and having their corners rounded off,
and (with the exception of the produce of some palms) are the largest
that are known, their flattened sides not unfrequently measuring three
square inches. Their size gives them a great capability for resisting
the influence of the sea, and they retain their germinating power for
many months, so that, carried over by the ocean-currents, they are
borne to every quarter of the globe. They have been observed in the
arctic regions and on the northern shores of Nova Zembla, and within
the tropics they have found their way to both the Indies and to many
islands of the Pacific. These enormous beans bear signal witness to
the course of the Gulf Stream. Their proper home would seem to be the
tropical regions of Africa, as their occurrence in the Monbuttoo lands,
equally distant from either ocean, manifestly witnesses. Anxious to
investigate where the “morokoh” could really be found, I devoted a
special excursion to the search, and went out for a couple of leagues
or more in a south-westerly direction from the camp. Crossing several
brooks and passing through many a grove of oil-palms, we reached some
farmsteads that were erected in a welcome shade. All along our steps
we were followed by a group of people who continually fell out and
squabbled with the Bongo and other natives belonging to our caravan,
but who towards myself personally were as courteous and amiable as
could be wished. It might be expected that my bean-pods, five feet
long, would be found upon some enormous trees of corresponding
growth, but in truth the _Entada scandens_ is a weak deciduous creeper,
which climbs along the underwood that abounds in the depressions of the
brooks.

[Illustration: MUNZA’S RESIDENCE.]

[Sidenote: THE ROYAL CASTLE.]

The twenty days of our residence in this interesting spot slipped away
only too quickly. There was, however, a series of fresh surprises
awaiting me. How I made acquaintance with the Pygmies is a tale that
must be told in a later chapter. High festivities in the court of the
king—the general summons of the population to take their share in the
hunt as often as either buffaloes or elephants came within sight—the
arrival of vassals conveying their tribute and making a solemn entrance
with their attendant warriors—all these events succeeded each
other in rapid order, and gave me ample opportunity of studying the
peculiarities of the people from many a different point of view.

I paid repeated visits to the king, sometimes finding him in his
granaries engaged in distributing provisions to his officers, and
sometimes in the inner apartments of his own special residence. One
afternoon I received permission, in company with Mohammed, to inspect
all the apartments of the royal castle. The master of the ceremonies
and the head-cook escorted us round. Mohammed was already familiar with
all the arrangements, and was consequently able to call my attention
to anything worthy of particular notice. What I call “the castle”
is a separate group of huts, halls, and sheds, which are enclosed
by a palisade, and which may be entered only by the king and by the
officers and servants of the royal household. All official business
is transacted in the outer courts. Trees were planted regularly all
round the enclosure, and contributed to give a comfortable and homelike
aspect to the whole. Not only did the oil-palms abound, but other
serviceable trees were planted round the open space, and declared
the permanency of the royal residence, in contradistinction to the
fluctuating and unsettled dwelling-places of the Niam-niam chieftains.

I was next brought to a circular building with an imposing conical
roof, which was appropriated as the arsenal, and was full of weapons
of every variety. Sword-blades and lances were especially numerous,
and I was at liberty to make my selection out of them, as the king had
chosen in this way to make his return for the presents he had received
from me. The superintendents and keepers of the armoury did all in
their power to interfere with the freedom of my choice, and as often
as I showed my fancy for any piece that was particularly rare, they
hesitated before surrendering it, and made a condition that the express
consent of the king must be secured before a specimen so _recherché_
could be given up. As the result of this exchange of presents, I found
my tent loaded with an immense assortment of knives, scimitars, lances,
spears, bows, and arrows. At the subsequent conflagration all the
wooden portions of these were destroyed, but the metal work was safely
remitted to Europe as a proof of the artistic taste and industry of the
people.

[Illustration: Breed of cattle from the Maoggoo country.]

The same day I had the opportunity of seeing the splendid oxen which
Munza had received from the friendly king in the south-east, and to
which I have already had occasion to refer.[16] A representation of one
of these animals is now introduced, showing the great fat hump, which
is larger than any that I had hitherto seen.

All attempts to elicit any information about the country to the south
of their own were quite unavailing; the people were silent as the
tomb. Nor did I succeed much better when I came to inquire of King
Munza himself. Every inquiry on my part was baffled by the resolute
secrecy of African state policy, and the difficulties of the duplicate
interpretation gave Munza just the pretext he wanted for circumlocution
and evasive replies.

[Sidenote: PIAGGIA’S LAKE.]

I was most anxious to obtain correct information as to whether the
great inland lake to which Piaggia had referred had any real existence
in the district or not, and I satisfied myself by positive testimony
that the natives had no actual knowledge about it. But it was really
very difficult to convey to them any notion whatever of what was
intended; there was an utter absence of any simile by which the idea of
a lake, a great inland expanse of fresh water, could be illustrated,
and the languages of the interpreters (Arabic and Zandey), however
copious they might be, were yet inadequate in this particular matter.
Neither in Egypt nor in the Egyptian Soudan is there a proper term for
a lake. There are indeed the terms “birket,” “foola,” and “tirra,” but
these only signify respectively a pond, a rainpool, and a marsh; and
Piaggia, who, as I have pointed out, did not actually reach Keefa,
spoke only from hearsay, either from the reports of the Nubians,
to whom probably some vague information of Baker’s discoveries had
reached, or by an erroneous conception of the explanation of the
natives when they described the “great water,” which in reality was
the river flowing past Keefa’s residence. Monbuttoo and Niamniam
alike are entirely incapable of comprehending what is meant by an
ocean. Anything contrary to this statement which may have been spread
abroad by Khartoom adventurers[17] I do not think I need hesitate to
describe as sheer nonsense or as idle fancy. The tales of steamers and
of ships with crews of white men, which are said to have been described
by the natives as having come along their rivers, and the stories
that pictures of these ships have been found in their dwellings, are
doubtless circulated amongst travellers to the Niam-niam lands, but
without any assignable grounds.

After much demurring and waiving the question, the king’s interpreter
did affirm that he knew of such standing water in the country: be
pointed towards the direction of the W.S.W., and said its name was
“Madimmo,” and that it was Munza’s own birthplace. The place was called
“Ghilly” by the Niam-niam; but when I inquired more accurately, and
began to investigate its extent, I received an answer which set my mind
entirely at rest that it was as large as Munza’s palace!

I nurtured the silent hope that by mentioning certain names that
perchance might be known to the Monbuttoo, I should succeed in breaking
down their reserve. I asked the king if he knew anything of the land of
Ulegga and of its king Kadjoro, or whether he knew King Kamrasi, whose
dominions were beyond the “great water,” and behind the mountains of
the Malegga; and I pointed at the same time towards the S.E. Then I
mentioned Kamrahs, repeating the word and saying “Kamrahs, Kamrahs,”
in the way that the Nubians are accustomed to do, but both Munza and
his interpreter were silent, or proceeded to speak of other matters.
But while this conversation was going on, a significant look that Munza
gave his interpreter did not escape my notice, and very much confirmed
my suspicion that he was not altogether unacquainted with Kamrasi.

[Sidenote: AN EXCHANGE.]

Some time afterwards Munza, in the most off-hand way, complained that
I had not given him enough copper. Knowing the general expectations
of an African king, I was only surprised that he had not urged his
demand before. He reminded me of the quantity of copper that Mohammed
had given him: “Mohammed,” he said, “is a great sultan; but you are
also a great sultan.” When I reminded him that I did not take any of
his ivory, he seemed to acquiesce in my excuse; but he very shortly
afterwards sent me some messengers to request that I would make him
a present of the two dogs which I had brought with me. They were two
common Bongo curs of very small growth, but by contrast with the mean
breed of the Monbuttoo and the Niam-niam they were attractive enough to
excite the avidity of Munza. He had never seen dogs of such a size, and
did not want them as dainty morsels for his table, but really wished to
have them to keep. However, he had long to beg in vain; I assured him
that the creatures had grown up with me till I was truly fond of them;
they were, as I told him, my children; I was not disposed to part with
them at any price, and might as well be asked to give the hair off my
head. But my representations had no effect upon Munza; he had made up
his mind to have the dogs, and did not pass a day without repeating
his request, and enforcing it by sending fresh relays of presents to
my tent. Nothing, however, moved me. At last some slaves, both male
and female were sent, and the sight of these suggested a new idea. I
resolved to give way, and to exchange one of my dogs for a specimen of
the little Akka people. Munza acceded at once, and sent me two of them.
He could not suppress his little joke. “You told me,” said he, “not
long since, that the dogs were your children; what will you say if I
call these my children?”

I accepted the smallest of the Akka, a youth who might be about
fifteen years of age, hoping to be able to take him to Europe as a
living evidence o£ a truth that lay under the myth of some thousand
years. I shall give a fuller account of this little specimen of
humanity in the chapter that will be devoted to the subject of the
Pygmies.

It had, moreover, become high time for me to give way, and not to put
the cannibal ruler’s patience to too severe a test. The exchange which
had been effected restored me to the royal favour, and a prohibition
which had been issued to the natives, warning them not to have any
transactions with me by selling me produce or curiosities, was
withdrawn. I received now such quantities of ripe plantains that I was
able to procure an abundance of plantain-wine, an extremely palatable
and wholesome drink, which is obtained after being allowed to ferment
for twenty-four hours.

During this time Mohammed had began to find that the supply of
provisions was growing inadequate, and that he would find some
difficulty in meeting the necessities of his numerous bearers and of
his heterogeneous caravan. He accordingly resolved to make a division
of the entire company, and to send a detachment back to Izingerria
beyond the Welle, where they might get corn and other supplies. In my
own case, I was obliged to do without proper bread; no eleusine was
to be had, and I was reduced to a flat tough cake made of manioc and
plantain-meal.

[Illustration: Goat of the Momvoo.]

[Sidenote: GOATS OF THE MOMVOO.]

As no cattle-breeding is practised among the Monbuttoo, I should
have been fastened down to a uniform diet of vegetables if I had not
happened to be aware that in the last raid against the Momvoo a very
considerable number of goats had been driven into the country. I
induced the king to become my agent for getting me some of them, and
sent him three large copper bracelets, weighing about a pound, for
every goat that he would let me have. In this way I gradually obtained
about a dozen fat goats, and more beautiful creatures of the I kind
had never seen since I had left Khartoom. They were of two different
breeds: one of them was singularly like the Bongo race, which has been
before described, and which are remarkable for the long hair that
hangs from their neck and shoulders; the other differed from any type
that I had previously seen in having an equally-distributed drooping
fleece, which serves as a covering for its short-haired extremities,
and in its nose being very considerably arched. The ordinary colour
of these graceful animals is a uniform glossy black. They are fed
almost exclusively upon plantain leaves, a food which makes them thrive
admirably. When I had got half-a-dozen of them together I had them all
killed at once. I had the flesh all taken off the bones, the sinews
carefully removed, and then made my bearers, who had no other work to
do, mince it up very fine upon some boards. The entire mass was next
thrown into great vessels and boiled; it was afterwards strained, and
when it had got cold it was freed from all fat and finally steamed
until it was a thick jelly. The extract of meat obtained in this way
had to serve throughout our return journey, and in the sequel proved
a very remunerative product. It was not liable to decomposition, and
its keeping so well made it an excellent resource in time of want and
postponed the evil day of our actual suffering from hunger.

Besides the company of Mohammed Aboo Sammat, there were two other
companies that for some years had been accustomed to carry their
expeditions into the Monbuttoo country, namely, Agahd’s and that of
the Poncets, which was afterwards transferred to Ghattas. It was a
matter of arrangement that these should confine their operations to the
eastern districts, where Degberra was king. At their departure they
always left a small detachment in charge to look after their business
interests and to prevent any competition. Agahd’s and Poncet’s soldiers
had been left in the garrisons in the districts that were under the
control of Degberra’s generals, Kubby and Benda, and they were only too
glad to embrace the present chance (as we were only distant a two days’
journey) of coming to see their friends and acquaintance from Khartoom
and to hear the news.

[Sidenote: AFRICAN CAUTION.]

To all appearance the Monbuttoo air agreed excellently with them
all, which is more than can be said of those who reside in some of
the northern Seribas. They had wives and families in the country,
and made no other complaint than that their life was somewhat lonely
and monotonous and their food so different to what they had been
accustomed to; but what the fanatical Mohammedans had most readily to
avow was that they really held the natives in admiration and respect,
notwithstanding their intense detestation of the cannibalism which
was attributed to them. Mohammed also left some of his people in the
neighbourhood of Munza; and these strangers had permission to erect
Seribas and to plant their environs with sweet-potatoes, manioc, and
plantains. Their prerogative extended no further than this, and they
had no authority at all over the natives; however small might be
their number in any place (sometimes not a score of men altogether)
they were sure to be sufficient to restrain the inhabitants from any
attempt at surprise. The African savages are not like the American
Indiana, who are always prepared to see a few of their party killed at
the outset, provided that they can only make sure of ultimate success
and can get their plunder at last; not that the Africans underrate the
advantage they possess in the superiority of their numbers, nor that
they entertain too high an estimate of the bravery of the Nubians, but
they are conscious that no attack could be ventured without one or two
of them having to pay the penalty of their lives. No one is ready for
his own part to run the risk of his own being the life that must be
sacrificed; and thus it happens that the prospect of a few deaths is
sufficient to deter them, though they might be reckoned by thousands,
from making that outbreak which their numerical strength might
guarantee would be finally successful.

As soon as Mohammed became aware that he had got to the end of the
king’s store of ivory he began to think of his ways and means, and
contemplated pushing on farther to the south and opening a new market
for himself. With the greatest enthusiasm I entered into his design,
and taking up his cry, “To the world’s end!” I added, “Now’s the time,
and onward let us go!” But, unfortunately, there were insuperable
obstacles in the way. In the first place, there was the decided
opposition of the king, who entertained the very natural belief that
the farther progress of the Khartoomers to the south would interfere
with his monopoly of the copper trade; and in the next place there was
the impossibility of Mohammed being able, without Munza’s co-operation,
to procure sufficient provisions for so arduous an undertaking. To
put the former difficulty to the test, Mohammed despatched his nephew
with the conduct of an expedition just sufficiently large to venture
the attempt. For three days this expedition pressed on, until upon the
River Nomayo, an affluent of the Welle, they reached the residence of
one of Munza’s sub-chieftains, whose name was Mummery. Halfway upon
their route they had rested at the dwelling-place of another chieftain,
named Nooma. Both Mummery and Nooma, it should be said, were Munza’s
own brothers; but neither of them would venture to open commercial
transactions of any kind without the express orders of the king, and
consequently the expedition had to return at once and leave its object
unaccomplished.

The disappointment was very keen: it was a bitter grief to see one’s
most cherished projects melt thus thoroughly away. Nor was it a much
smaller matter of regret that Mohammed felt himself obliged to curtail
even our few weeks’ residence with Munza; he might propose, indeed, to
advance to the south from the eastern portion of the Monbuttoo country,
but that was a project that was little likely to be accomplished.

For a long period I held fast to my intention of remaining behind alone
in Munza’s country with the soldiers who would be left in charge of
the Seriba; and I indulged the fascinating hope that I should find
an opportunity of penetrating into that farther south which I longed
so earnestly to investigate; but my protector would not acquiesce in
this for a moment, nor did any of my own people show an inclination to
support my wishes. It was very doubtful if we could be relieved during
the next year, or the year after, if at all; my resources even now
were hardly enough to take me home again; the wherewithal for further
enterprise was altogether wanting; if I should entrust my collection,
which I had so laboriously gathered, to the care of others, there was
every risk of its becoming wet and even spoiled; the prospect, too,
of penetrating into the interior under the escort of the Monbuttoo
themselves was not altogether inviting: I should only have accompanied
their plundering raids, where I should have been compelled to be a
daily witness of their cruelties and cannibalism; thus upon serious
deliberation I was driven to the conviction that my scheme was not
feasible.

[Sidenote: WANT OF A GOLDEN KEY.]

No doubt a very different vista would have opened itself before me
into the untraversed interior of the continent if I had chanced to be
one of those favoured travellers who have unlimited command of gold.
But fortune and money appear, with regard to African travel, to stand
very much in the same relation to one another as force and time in
physics; what you gain in one, you lose in the other. The fortunate and
healthy travellers, like Karl Mauch and Gerhard Rohlfs, have generally
been very limited in their means; whilst rich travellers, such as the
Baron von der Decken and Miss Tinné, have succumbed to difficulties,
sickened, or died. Any expedition that was fitted out with a liberality
proportioned to that of Speke’s would have been capable of advancing
from Munza’s to the south, defiant of opposition; enough copper would
have neutralised the resistance of the king; if force could be opposed
by force, and threats could be met by threats, the native princes would
all declare themselves to be friends, and, like Mtesa and Kamrasi,
would meet them with open arms. But, as I say, the resources must
be adequate. With two hundred soldiers from Khartoom, not liable to
fever, and capable of existing upon food of any sort, and who were up
to all the dodges and chicaneries of the African chieftains, any one
could penetrate as far as he chose. If I had possessed 10,000 dollars
in my purse, or had them invested properly in Khartoom, I would have
guaranteed to bring my leader on to Bornoo. The sum would have sufficed
to keep his soldiers up to their duty; and under those circumstances I
should have been master of the situation, and Mohammed would have had
means to get as much ivory as he could desire.

These intimations may suffice to show that, in my opinion, with the aid
of the Khartoom merchant companies, access could be had to the remotest
parts of the continent without any exorbitant outlay of money; but
conditions so favourable for prosecuting the work as those which then
fell to my lot, I fear may be long before they occur again.

Munza’s visits made a diversion in our camp life. The finest
entertainment, however, which chanced to occur was the celebration of
the victory which Mummery had obtained over the Momvoo. As the produce
of his successful raid, Mummery brought the due contributions of ivory,
slaves, and goats, to lay before the feet of the king, and the occasion
was taken to institute a festival on the grandest scale. In consequence
of Munza’s establishment being already taxed with the entertainment of
so many strangers, Mummery only stayed for a single night. The morning
after his arrival was appointed for the feast.

[Illustration: KING MUNZA DANCING BEFORE HIS WIVES.]

The early part of the day was cold and rainy; but quite betimes,
the shouts and cheers that rang around the camp told us that the
rejoicing already had begun. Towards midday the news was brought that
the excitement was reaching its climax, and that the king himself
was dancing in the presence of his numerous wives and courtiers. The
weather was still chill and drizzly; but, putting on a long black
frock-coat as being the most appropriate costume for the occasion,
I bent my steps to the noble saloon, which resounded again with the
ringing echoes of uproarious cheers and clanging music. The scene that
awaited me was unique. Within the hall there was a spacious square left
free, around which the eighty royal wives were seated in a single row
upon their little stools, having painted themselves in honour of the
occasion with the most elaborate care; they were applauding most
vigorously, clapping their hands with all their might. Behind the women
stood an array of warriors in full accoutrement, and their lines of
lances were a frontier of defence. Every musical accompaniment to which
the resources of the court could reach had all been summoned, and there
was a _mêlée_ of gongs and kettle-drums, timbrels and trumpets, horns
and bells. Dancing there in the midst of all, a wondrous sight, was the
king himself.

[Sidenote: MUNZA’S DANCE.]

Munza was as conspicuous in his vesture as he was astounding in his
movements. It is ever the delight of African potentates on occasions
of unusual pomp to present themselves to their subjects in some new
aspect. Munza’s opportunities in this way were almost unlimited, as he
had a house full of skins and feathers of every variety: he had now
attired his head in the skin of a great black baboon, giving him the
appearance of wearing a grenadier’s bearskin; the peak of this was
dressed up with a plume of waving feathers. Hanging from his arms were
the tails of genets, and his wrists were encircled by great bundles
of tails of the guinea-hog. A thick apron, composed of the tails of a
variety of animals was fastened round his loins, and a number of rings
rattled upon his naked legs. But the wonder of the king’s dress was
as nothing compared to his action. His dancing was furious. His arms
dashed themselves furiously in every direction, though always marking
the time of the music; whilst his legs exhibited all the contortions
of an acrobat’s, being at one moment stretched out horizontally to the
ground, and at the next pointed upwards and elevated in the air. The
music ran on in a wild and monotonous strain, and the women raised
their hands and clapped together their open palms to mark the time.
For what length of time this dance had been going on I did not quite
understand; I only know that I found Munza raving in the hall with all
the mad excitement which would have been worthy of the most infatuated
dervish that had ever been seen in Cairo. Moment after moment it looked
as if the enthusiast must stagger, and, foaming at the mouth, fall
down in a fit of epilepsy; but nervous energy seems greater in Central
Africa than among the “hashishit” of the north: a slight pause at the
end of half an hour, and all the strength revived; once again would
commence the dance, and continue unslackened and unwearied.

[Illustration: Music]

So thoroughly were the multitude engrossed with the spectacle that
hardly any attention at all was given to my arrival, and a few who
noticed it did not permit themselves to be diverted from the enjoyment
of their pleasure. I had an opportunity, therefore, of transferring the
scene to paper, and of finishing a sketch which embraces its prominent
features.

But above the tumult of men was heard the tumult of the elements. A
hurricane arose, with all the alarming violence of tropical intensity.
For a little while the assembly was unmoved and disposed to take no
notice of the storm; but soon the wind and pelting rain found their
way into the openings of the hall; the music ceased, the rolling drum
yielding to the thunder; the audience in commotion rose, and sought
retreat; and in another instant the spectacle was over; the dancing
king was gone.

The floods of rain compelled me to remain upon the spot, and I took
advantage of the opportunity to make an undisturbed inspection of the
other and larger hall, which was situated just opposite to the one in
which I was. A low doorway led into the edifice, which was 150 feet
long and not less than fifty feet high; it was lighted only by narrow
apertures, and the roof was supported on five rows of columns. On one
side of it was a wooden partition which divided off from the spacious
edifice a small apartment, where the king was accustomed, according
to the imperial wont of altering the sleeping-place, occasionally to
pass the night. An enormous erection, ponderous enough to support an
elephant, served as a bedstead; on each side of this were several posts
each encircled by forged iron rings that could not weigh less than half
a hundredweight. In this royal bedchamber I noticed a large number
of barbarous decorations, and I observed that the pillars and the
timberwork were rudely painted with numerous geometrical designs, but
that the artists seem to have had only three colours at their command;
blood-red, yellow-ochre, and the white from dogs’ dung (_album græcum_).

[Sidenote: A VISIT FROM THE KING.]

Munza twice honoured our camp with a visit. His majesty’s approach
was announced long beforehand by the outcries of the teeming people
that thronged along his way. On entering the encampment he found the
German flag waving from a tall flagstaff that I had erected in the
immediate proximity of my tent; he was curious to know what it meant,
and had to be initiated into the object of a national symbol, and to
be informed of the tragical experiences of King Theodore in Abyssinia.
It was a great relief to me that he did not require to enter either
into my tent or into a large grass-shed which had been recently erected
for me. Altogether the monarch displayed much less covetousness than
I had reason to expect. Recognising this moderation on his part, I
endeavoured to entertain him by showing him my collection of pictures,
and amongst others I submitted to him the one of himself in the copper
habiliments which he had worn on the day of our first audience. They
were the only portraits he had ever seen, and his astonishment was very
great; the play of the muscles of his face displayed the interest he
took, and, according to the custom of the land, he opened his mouth
quite wide, and covered it with his open hand, betraying thereby
his surprise and admiration. I had afterwards to open my bosom for
his inspection, and when I turned up my shirt-sleeves, he could not
suppress a cry of amazement. The interview ended, as such visits
generally did, by his expressing a wish, with which I had not the least
intention to comply, that I would take off my boots.

The date of our departure was now drawing near, and yet neither
my promised chimpanzee nor guinea-hog[18] had appeared. About the
chimpanzee the truth was that not one could be found in the district,
which was far too densely populated, and where the woods upon the
river-banks were very light and traversed by frequent pathways; but
with regard to the guinea-hog it was quite different; they were to be
found in the nearest environs of the royal residence, and, if only
Munza had been inclined, he could have redeemed his promise and secured
me a specimen without difficulty. He left me, consequently, to get one,
if I could, for myself; but this, to a novice in the chase, was more
easily said than done, and I had to ramble in the thickets, rifle in
hand, under the vain hope that I might secure a specimen.

Only once, and that was just when evening was coming on to close a
cloudy day, and a drizzling mist was giving obscurity to the woods, I
caught sight of one of these animals. Its red bristly head and long
pointed ears peered out from behind the prostrate stem of a great tree,
and I was just concluding that it was within gunshot, when at the
very instant two of my native attendants were seen beside it rolling
on the ground and bleeding at the nose. My people were not remarkable
for pluck, and nothing would induce them to a second venture with the
beast. Thus I was compelled to renounce my hope of getting a guinea-hog.

[Sidenote: WASHING DAY.]

During the earlier hours of the morning and the later hours of the
afternoon, I spent the time, day after day, in continual excursions,
which enabled me to add to the novelties of my collection. The middle
of the day I devoted to the necessary supervision of my household.
The periodic washing day had come, and I was at a loss to find a
washing-tub that could contain the accumulated linen. Mohammed’s
ingenuity came once more to my aid. He borrowed King Munza’s largest
meat-dish for my use. A lordly dish it was; more like a truck than an
article for the table. It was five feet long, and hewn from a single
block.

[Illustration: King Munza’s dish.]

FOOTNOTES:

[11] This palm is found in every bank-forest in the
Monbuttoo country, and its leaves vary from 25 to 35
feet in length: the midrib of the leaf (rhachis) is of
a bright brown colour, and furnishes the most popular
building material throughout Central Africa.

[12] I had obtained these little works of art from my
Venetian friend Miani, to whom they had been presented
some years previously by his fellow-citizens, when
he was preparing to undertake a new expedition. The
enterprise had failed from no other cause than from
the jealousy shown by the Egyptian Government.

[13] According to Liebig the cola-nut contains more
coffeine than the most potent coffee berries.

[14] It may interest the reader to learn that in the
Shamane prayers “brrr——” is synonymous with “hail,”
and I have little doubt that it here meant some sort
of applause, as it was always the signal for the
repetition of the hymn in celebration of the glories
of Munza.

[15] A similar contrivance is used on the river Gabon on
the West Coast.

[16] _Vide_ vol. i. chap. xiii.

[17] Compare Dr. Ori’s letter to the Marquis Antinori in
the ‘Bolletino della Soc. Geogr. Ital.,’ i. p. 184.

[18] The Guinea-hog (_Potamochœrus penicillatus_) is called
“Napezzo,” or “fat,” by the Monbuttoo, and its flesh
is considered very choice. These animals, which are
not nearly so wild as the wart-hogs (the blabark of
the South African Boërs), and are indeed capable
of being partially tamed, are found throughout the
tropical regions of Africa, from the west coast to
Zanzibar. Burton met with them in Ugogo. In early
times they were already introduced into Brazil.

CHAPTER XV.

THE MONBUTTOO. Previous accounts of the Monbuttoo. Population.
Surrounding nations. Neglect of agriculture. Products of the
soil. Produce of the chase. Forms of greeting. Preparation
of food. Universal cannibalism. National pride and warlike
spirit. Power of the sovereign. His habits. The royal household.
Advanced culture of the Monbuttoo. Peculiarities of race. Fair
hair and complexion. Analogy to the Fulbe. Preparation of bark.
Nudity of the women. Painting of the body. _Coiffure_ of men
and women. Mutilation not practised. Equipment of warriors.
Manipulation of iron. Early knowledge of copper. Probable
knowledge of platinum. Tools. Wood-carving. Stools and benches.
Symmetry of water-bottles. Large halls. Love of ornamental
trees. Conception of Supreme Being.

It was in December 1868, just before starting from Khartoom, that I
received, in a somewhat circuitous way, the first intelligence of a
people called the Monbuttoo, who were said to dwell to the south of
the Niam-niam. Dr. Ori, the chief official physician at Khartoom, in
a letter to the Marquis Antinori, had detailed all the most recent
particulars of the ivory traffic in the remote districts south of
the Gazelle, and had specially referred to the transactions of Jules
Poncet. These particulars were published without much delay in the
journal of the Geographical Association of Paris; and I chanced to find
Dr. Ori’s letter quoted entire in the Italian Geographical Society’s
‘Bolletino,’ which was transmitted to me by the Marquis Antinori
himself just before I was setting out on my expedition.

[Sidenote: NATIONAL FEATURES OF THE MONBUTTOO.]

Although the intelligence conveyed by Ori and Poncet failed utterly in
giving either clearness or consistency to the confused depositions of
those ignorant and uninformed men who had been their authorities, it
still had the intrinsic merit of enlarging the domain of geographical
knowledge by some matters of fact which it was reserved for me
individually to confirm by my own observation. It laid down as facts,
first, that to the south of the Niam-niam territory there is a river
flowing towards the west;[19] secondly, that this river is not
tributary to the Nile; and, thirdly, that its banks are populated by a
race quite distinct from the ordinary negro race, its inhabitants being
of a brownish complexion, and exhibiting a grade of civilization which
is considerably in advance of what is elsewhere found in Central Africa.

These people were designated by the name of the Monbuttoo, and by the
ivory traders they were known as Gurru-gurroo, a definition that is
derived from an Arabic word which refers to their universal habit of
piercing their ears.

No sooner had I really reached the district of the Gazelle than I
discovered from my conversation and intercourse with the leaders of
the ivory traffic that the Monbuttoo were regarded as holding a very
peculiar and prominent place. Their country never failed to furnish
a theme of general praise. It was declared to be prolific in ivory;
it was profuse in its natural products; the pomp of its sovereign was
unrivalled; but, above all, the skill of its people, in the fabrication
alike of their weapons for war and their utensils for peace, was
assumed to be so striking that they were comparable to the denizens of
the civilized west, and that in some respects the Franks themselves did
not surpass them in the exercise of an æsthetic faculty.

That I might succeed in making my way onwards to the territory of this
problematical people, naturally became more and more my impatient
and ardent desire; and it will readily be understood how eagerly
I recognised Aboo Sammat as offered by a propitious fate to be the
conductor upon whom I might rely for being introduced to a closer view
of this undefined race, which might be likened in a way to a nebula
in the geographical firmament. Very much I now rejoice at being in a
position to submit, upon the evidence of my own observation, a somewhat
detailed account of this race, who may be described as constituting a
sort of remote island of humanity. Surrounded as it is by the waves of
fluctuating nationalities, it is, as it were, an “_ultima Thule_” of
geographical research; or perhaps still more appropriately it might be
likened to a boulder thrown up from a lower formation, and exhibiting
a development of indigenous culture, entirely different to what can be
witnessed all around.

The territory of the Monbuttoo, as it lies in the heart of Africa,
does not cover an area of more than 4000 square miles, but the ratio
of the census of its population is hardly exceeded by any region of
the entire continent. Estimating the density of the people by the
districts through which we travelled, and observing that cultivated
farms followed upon cultivated farms, without a barren spot between,
I suppose that there are at least 250 inhabitants to the square mile,
which would give an aggregate population of about a million. The
position of the country is embraced very nearly between the parallels
of 3° and 4° north latitude, and 28° and 29° east longitude from
Greenwich. To the north of the country there is a large river, usually
copious in its stream, called the Keebaly. This is joined by the Gadda,
which flows from the south-east. After the junction it is known as
the Welle, and has a breadth of about 800 feet, whilst never, even in
the driest season, does its depth diminish to less than fifteen feet.
It proceeds to the west along the southern portion of the adjoining
Niam-niam district, and being swollen by the accession of numerous
tributaries from the southern districts of the Monbuttoo, it very
rapidly assumes its large dimensions. Beyond a doubt it is the upper
course of the most easterly of the two arms which, after they have
united in Baghirmy, flow onwards under the name of the Shary, that
river to which Lake Tsad owes its existence.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO GOVERNMENT.]

There are two chieftains who, with regard to the extent of their
dominions and the numerical strength of their armed forces (for their
sway extends far beyond the populous districts of the Monbuttoo), may
well be designated as kings. They have partitioned the sovereignty
between them: the eastern division being subject to Degberra, the
western division is governed by Munza, who exercises a much more
powerful control; he is a son of King Tikkiboh, who had once enjoyed
the undivided rule over the entire Monbuttoo land, but thirteen years
previously had been murdered by his brother Degberra.

Sub-chieftains or viceroys are distributed over various sections of
the country, and these are accustomed to surround themselves with a
retinue and state little inferior to those of the kings themselves. In
Munza’s realms there are three of these dignitaries; viz. his brothers
Izingerria, Mummery, and Nooma; subordinate to Degberra there are his
four sons, Kubby, Benda, Koopa, and Yangara.

The country of the Niam-niam constitutes the northern and north-western
boundaries of the Monbuttoo. This comprises the territories of Kanna
and Indimma, sons of the once powerful Keefa, and, farther on, the
district of Malingde or Marindo, which approaches in an easterly
direction more towards the territory of Wando; each of these countries
are, however, separated by wildernesses which it requires two days
to cross. The southern limits of the Monbuttoo are enclosed, as it
were, by a semicircle of typical negroes, whom they embrace in the
comprehensive definition of “Momvoo,” a disdainful epithet implying
the extremity of their degradation. From this category we are possibly
called upon to exclude in this quarter (as perchance in every other
region of Africa) those isolated races of dwarfs, familiarly known
as “Pygmies,” of which the Akka, who reside in the S.S.W., and have
their abodes close to the confines of the kingdom of Munza, may be
quoted as examples. The bulk of this apparently thickly-peopled race is
subject to independent chieftains, but there is one section which is
tributary to Munza in so far as this, that it makes its contributary
payments to Mummery, as being Munza’s vicegerent. According to the
depositions of some Nubians who have been stationed for some years
past in the Monbuttoo country, the language of the Babuckur is found
to be spoken among the Momvoo. To support their opinion the Nubians
affirm that women-slaves brought from Babuckur have always been found
able to converse with the natives of the land just to the south of
the Monbuttoo; a circumstance which is not without its signification
as explaining the most recent migration of nations into this part of
Africa. Since the two _enclaves_ of Babuckur on the eastern boundaries
of the Niam-niam appear only to be removed from each other by an
interval of sixty miles and to be hemmed in by hostile neighbours, the
fact, taken in connection with the above, may serve to demonstrate that
Monbuttoo and Niam-niam alike must have been advancing in an easterly
direction.

Munza’s neighbours towards the south-west and south of the kingdom of
Kanna are the Mabohde. This is a people whom Keefa, Kanna’s father
(known also as Ntikkima), was accustomed to harass in war till he
met with his own death. Farther on towards the S.S.W., and separated
from Munza by the Mabohde and the Akka, there lies the district of
the Massanza, a tribe which is held in subjection by the formidable
hand of Kizzo. To the south and south-east are found the Nemeigeh, the
Bissangah, and the Domondoo, tenanting a mountainous region, which
not improbably is the western declivity of that important mountainous
formation to which Baker, in describing the north-west of Lake Mwootan,
has referred under the name of the Blue Mountains. The settlements of
the Domondoo are the usual limits to which the Monbuttoo are accustomed
to carry their plundering expeditions. Some Nubian soldiers who had
been quartered in the country of Munza, and who had accompanied
him in some of his marauding exploits have given a description of
the general mountainous character of the land, and, moreover, have
asserted that goats, which are known neither to the Niam-niam nor to
the Monbuttoo, have been captured there in great numbers. The Babuckur
also, notwithstanding the frequent incursions which their neighbours,
ever greedy of animal diet, have made upon their over-populated and
oppressed communities, are always found in possession of herds of goats
so numerous that they might be described as inexhaustible. Many days’
journey to the south and south-east of Munza’s realms are the abodes of
the Maoggoo, over whom a powerful sovereign exercises his authority,
and who seems to have various transactions with Munza, if I may judge
from the splendid cattle which had been sent him as a present. Maoggoo
is not improbably the same as Malegga, the appellation of a people,
which appears in Baker’s map to the west of the Blue Mountains in an
extensive country (Ulegga), of which it is affirmed that the king is
named Kadjoro, and that the population is especially devoted to the
breeding of cattle.

[Sidenote: THE MONBUTTOO TERRITORY.]

Having thus minutely taken a survey of the surroundings of the
Monbuttoo, we may in the next place proceed to observe the land itself,
regarding it as the substance of the picture of which we have been thus
accurately surveying the background.

The Monbuttoo land greets us as an Eden upon earth. Unnumbered groves
of plantains bedeck the gently-heaving soil; oil-palms, incomparable
in beauty, and other monarchs of the stately woods, rise up and spread
their glory over the favoured scene; along the streams there is a
bright expanse of charming verdure, whilst a grateful shadow ever
overhangs the domes of the idyllic huts. The general altitude of the
soil ranges from 2500 to 2800 feet above the level of the sea: it
consists of alternate depressions, along which the rivulets make their
way, and gentle elevations, which gradually rise till they are some
hundred feet above the beds of the streams below. Upon the whole the
soil may be described as far more diversified in character than what is
observed in the eastern parts of the Niam-niam land. Like it is there,
it is rich in springs, wherever there are depressions, and in a network
of “desaguaderos” associated with the watercourses, and justifies the
comparison that has already been suggested between the entire land and
a well-soaked sponge, which yields countless streams to the pressure
of the hand. Belonging to one of the most recent formations, and
still in process of construction, the ferruginous swamp-ore is found
very widely diffused over the Monbuttoo country, and indeed extends
considerably farther to the south, so that the red earth appears to
be nearly universal over the greater part of the highlands of Central
Africa. The denser population has involved, as might be expected, more
frequent clearances for the sake of establishing plantain groves, and
promoting the culture of maize and sugar-canes, but even here in the
deeper valleys trees grow to such a prodigious height, and exhibit
such an enormous girth, that they could not be surpassed by any that
could be found throughout the entire Nile region of the north. Beneath
the imposing shelter of these giants other forms grow up and, rising
one above another, stand in mingled confusion. In its external and
general aspect the country corresponds with the description which Speke
has given of Uganda; but the customs of the inhabitants of that land,
their difference of race, and their seclusion from all intercourse with
commercial nations stamp them as being of a type which is of a very
contrasted character.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO PRODUCE.]

It seems almost to involve a contradiction to give the title of
agriculturists to a people whose existence indeed depends upon the easy
securing of fruits and tubers, but who abhor the trouble of growing
cereals. Sorghum and penicillaria, which are the common food of the
population in nearly the whole of Central Africa, are absolutely
uncared for amongst the Monbuttoo; eleusine is only grown occasionally,
and maize, which is known as “Nendoh,” is cultivated quite as an
exception in the immediate proximity of their dwellings, where it is
treated as a garden vegetable. The growth of their plantain (_Musa
sapientium_) gives them very little trouble; the young shoots are
stuck in the ground after it has been slackened by the rain; the old
plants are suffered to die down just as they are; and this is all the
cultivation that is vouchsafed. In the propagation of these plantains,
however, the Monbuttoo have a certain knack of discrimination for
which they might be envied by any European gardener: they can judge
whether a young shoot is capable of bearing fruit or not, and this
gives them an immense advantage in selecting only such shoots as are
worth the trouble of planting. They are not accustomed to bestow any
greater amount of attention to the planting either of the tubers of
their manioc (or cassava), their sweet-potatoes, their yams (neggoo),
or their colocasiæ. A very limited range of plants embraces the whole
of what they take the pains to cultivate, and that cultivation is all
accomplished in the narrowest bounds. The entire produce is summed
up in their sesame (mbellemoh), their earth-nuts, their sugar-canes,
and especially their tobacco. The Virginian tobacco is the only kind
which is seen; it is called Eh Tobboo, its name betraying its American
origin. The _Nicotiana rustica_, which is of such constant growth
amongst the Bongo, Dyoor, and Dinka, is here entirely unknown.

Very little care, moreover, is given to the sugar-cane, which may be
found amid the thinned woods that line the banks of the rivers. It
is grown only as a sort of delicacy, being found nowhere in any great
quantity, and its quality is far from good. One ever-thriving supply,
which is of the utmost importance for maintaining the population, is
provided in all the valleys by the cassava (_Manihot utilissima_);
but the cultivation of the sweet-potato, equally extensive as it is,
demands a somewhat more careful attention, requiring the sunny soil of
the upper slopes of the valleys above the line of the plantain groves
and nearest to the edge of the depressions. Both sweet-potatoes and
cassava here attain the very fullest standard of perfection, as far as
regards either size or quality. But the staple food is the plantain.
This is generally gathered in a green condition, dried, ground into
meal, and boiled to a pulp; occasionally, but not so often, it is dried
after it is ripe for the purpose of being kept for a longer time. Very
few countries of the world have a soil and atmosphere so favourable as
these for insuring the abundant produce of this serviceable plant. The
fruit when dried is a very choice delicacy, but any fermented drink
made from plantains I found to be almost unknown among the Monbuttoo.

Owing to the thorough isolation in which the Monbuttoo have lived,
holding no intercourse with Mohammedan or Christian nations, the art
of weaving has not found its way amongst them, and woven material
is consequently nowhere to be seen. Their clothing, as in many
other regions of Central Africa, is contributed by their fig-trees
(_Urostigma Kotschyana_), of which the bast from the bark, with
the help of some strings and shreds, is worked into a substantial
and enduring fabric. Hardly a hut can be seen that is without its
own fig-trees, which, however, will not grow without due care and
cultivation. The people are never known to wear skins attached to their
girdles after the fashion of the Niam-niam; the only occasion when
skins are worn being when they are made into a fancy dress for dancers.

On the south of the Welle there is a very extensive cultivation of the
oil-palm (_Elais guineensis_). It is a tree that, although common to
the west coasts, has not hitherto been found in the Nile districts, and
consequently, like the cola-nuts, which the wealthier of the Monbuttoo
are accustomed to chew, it yields a significant evidence of the western
associations of the people.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO HUNTING.]

Every kind of cattle-breeding is quite unfamiliar to them; and if the
common little dogs known as the “nessy” of the Niam-niam breed be
excepted, and no account be taken of their poultry (“naahle”), the
Monbuttoo may be said to be absolutely without domestic animals at all.
In a half tame state they keep, as I have said, the potamochœrus, which
is their only representative of the swine family. From the marauding
excursions with which they harass their southern neighbours they bring
back a prodigious number of goats, but they make no attempt to rear
them for themselves. Their hunting expeditions supply them with meat
enough for their requirements, their taste leading them to give the
preference to the flesh of elephants, buffaloes, wild boars, and the
larger kinds of antelopes. Although the denseness of the population
precludes any such increase of game of this kind as is universal in the
more northern and less cultivated regions of Central Africa, yet the
yield of their chase would be adequate for their own wants, because the
abundance of their supply at certain seasons is very great, and they
have the art of preserving it so that it remains fit for food for a
very considerable time. With this fact capable of being substantiated,
it is altogether a fallacy to pretend to represent that the Monbuttoo
are driven to cannibalism through the lack of ordinary meat. To judge
from Munza’s accumulated store of ivory, which is the result of the
combined exploits of all the men in his dominions capable of bearing
arms, the provision of elephant’s meat alone must be sufficient to keep
his people amply supplied. Nor should the immense quantity of poultry
be forgotten, as there is hardly a dwelling that is not conspicuous for
having a considerable stock, in the same way as dogs are an especial
subject of interest amongst the Niam-niam, who have a very decided
partiality for the flesh of that animal.

A bird very common in the Monbuttoo lands is the grey parrot
(_Psittacus erythacus_), which is very eagerly sought by the natives,
who not only adorn their heads with the bright red feathers from its
tail, but have a great relish for its savoury flesh. Other sport in
the way of birds is very inconsiderable, guinea-fowls, francolins,
and bustards being all caught by means of snares. The herb _Tephrosia
Vogelii_[20] is cultivated in nearly all the villages for the purpose
of poisoning fish, and the fish that is thus secured forms a very
considerable addition to the supply of food.

Whilst the women attend to the tillage of the soil and the gathering
of the harvest, the men, except they are absent either for war or
hunting, spend the entire day in idleness. In the early hours of the
morning they may be found under the shade of the oil-palms, lounging
at full length upon their carved benches and smoking tobacco. During
the middle of the day they gossip with their friends in the cool halls,
which serve for general concourse, where they may be seen gesticulating
vigorously to give full force to their sentiments. The action of the
Monbuttoo in speaking exhibits several singularities, as, for example,
their manner of expressing astonishment by putting their hand before
their open mouth, very much in the same way as a person does when he is
gaping. It has been said that the North American Indians have the habit
of showing their surprise in the same way.

Smiths’ work, of course, is done by the men, but, just as in most
other parts of Africa, the pottery is exclusively made by the women.
Wood-carving and basket-weaving are performed indifferently by either
sex. Musical instruments are not touched by the women.

The universal form of salutation consists in holding out the right
hand, and saying, “Gassiggy,” and at the same time cracking the joints
of the middle fingers.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO WOMEN.]

The two sexes conduct themselves towards each other with an excessive
freedom. The women in this respect are very different to the modest
and retiring women of the Niam-niam, and are beyond measure obtrusive
and familiar. Their inquisitiveness was a daily nuisance: they watched
me into the depth of the woods, they pestered me by flocking round
my tent, and it was a difficult matter to get a bath without being
stared at. Towards their husbands they exhibit the highest degree of
independence. The position in the household occupied by the men was
illustrated by the reply which would be made if they were solicited to
sell anything as a curiosity, “Oh, ask my wife: it is hers.”

Polygamy is unlimited. The daily witness of the Nubians only too
plainly testified that fidelity to the obligations of marriage was
little known. Not a few of the women were openly obscene. Their general
demeanour surprised me very much when I considered the comparative
advance of their race in the arts of civilization. Their immodesty far
surpassed anything that I had observed in the very lowest of the negro
tribes, and contrasted most unfavourably with the sobriety of the Bongo
women, who are submissive to their husbands and yet not servile. The
very scantiness of the clothing of the Monbuttoo women has no excuse.

Carved benches are the ordinary seats of the men, but the women
generally use stools that have but one foot. On the occasion of paying
a visit or going to a public gathering the men make their slaves carry
their benches for them, as it is their custom never to sit upon the
ground, not even when it has been covered with mats.

The care that is given to the preparation of their food is very
considerable, and betokens their higher grade of culture. The unripe
produce of the plantain and the manioc, that in all districts is
ready at their hand without the trouble of cultivation, make good the
deficiency of corn. Their mode of treating manioc is precisely the
same as that which is adopted in South America for the purpose of
extracting the fine flour called tapioca. For spices they make use of
the capsicum, the malaghetta pepper, and the fruit of two hitherto
unspecified Solaneæ, and for which I regret that I cannot select the
name of _S. anthropophagorum_, because it has been already assigned
to the “cannibal salad” of the Fiji Islanders. The flavour of both
these is very revolting, having a detestable twang, something between
a tomato and a melongena. Mushrooms are also in common use for the
preparation of their sauces.

All their food is prepared by the admixture of oil from the oil-palms.
In its unpurified condition when first expressed from the pods, this
oil is of a bright red colour, and of a somewhat thick consistency; for
a few days it has an agreeable taste, which, however, soon passes off
and leaves a decided rankness. By subsequently submitting the kernels
to fire, a coarse, inflammable oil is obtained, which is used for the
purpose of lighting their huts. Other vegetable oils in considerable
abundance are obtained from earth-nuts, from sesame, and from the fruit
of a forest-tree, _Lophira alata_. From the fat thick bodies of the
male white ants they boil out a greasy substance which is bright and
transparent, and has a taste perfectly unobjectionable.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO CANNIBALISM.]

But of most universal employment amongst them is human fat, and this
brings our observations to the climax of their culinary practices. The
cannibalism of the Monbuttoo is the most pronounced of all the known
nations of Africa. Surrounded as they are by a number of people who are
blacker than themselves, and who, being inferior to them in culture,
are consequently held in great contempt, they have just the opportunity
which they want for carrying on expeditions of war or plunder, which
result in the acquisition of a booty, which is especially coveted by
them, consisting of human flesh. The carcases of all who fall in battle
are distributed upon the battle-field, and are prepared by drying for
transport to the homes of the conquerors. They drive their prisoners
before them without remorse, as butchers would drive sheep to the
shambles, and these are only reserved to fall victims on a later day
to their horrible and sickening greediness. During our residence at
the court of Munza the general rumour was quite current that nearly
every day some little child was sacrificed to supply his meal. It
would hardly be expected that many opportunities should be afforded
to strangers of witnessing the natives at their repast, and to myself
there occurred only two instances when I came upon any of them whilst
they were actually engaged in preparing human flesh for consumption.
The first of these happened by my coming unexpectedly upon a number of
young women who had a supply of boiling water upon the clay floor in
front of the doorway of a hut, and were engaged in the task of scalding
the hair off the lower half of a human body. The operation, as far as
it was effected, had changed the black skin into a fawny grey, and the
disgusting sight could not fail to make me think of the soddening and
scouring of our fatted swine. On another occasion I was in a hut and
observed a human arm hanging over the fire, obviously with the design
of being at once dried and smoked.

Incontrovertible tokens and indirect evidences of the prevalence of
cannibalism were constantly turning up at every step we took. On one
occasion Mohammed and myself were in Munza’s company, and Mohammed
designedly turned the conversation to the topic of human flesh, and
put the direct question to the king how it happened that just at this
precise time while we were in the country there was no consumption of
human food. Munza expressly said that being aware that such a practice
was held in aversion by us, he had taken care that it should only be
carried on in secret.

As I have said, there was no opportunity for strangers to observe the
habits of the Monbuttoo at their meals; the Bongo and Mittoo of our
caravan were carefully excluded by them as being uncircumcised, and
therefore reckoned as “savages;” whilst the religious scruples of the
Nubians prevented them from even partaking of any food in common with
cannibals. Nevertheless the instances that I have mentioned are in
themselves sufficient to show that the Monbuttoo are far more addicted
to cannibalism than their hunting neighbours, the Niam-niam. They do
not constitute the first example of anthropophagi who are in a far
higher grade of culture than many savages who persistently repudiate
the enjoyment of human flesh (for example, the Fiji Islanders and the
Caraïbs). It is needless for me to recount the personal experiences
of the Nubian mercenaries who have accompanied the Monbuttoo on their
marauding expeditions, or to describe how these people obtain their
human fat, or again to detail the processes of cutting the flesh
into long strips and drying it over the fire in its preparation for
consumption. The numerous skulls now in the Anatomical Museum in Berlin
are simply the remains of their repasts which I purchased one after
another for bits of copper, and go far to prove that the cannibalism of
the Monbuttoo is unsurpassed by any nation in the world. But with it
all, the Monbuttoo are a noble race of men; men who display a certain
national pride, and are endowed with an intellect and judgment such as
few natives of the African wilderness can boast; men to whom one may
put a reasonable question, and who will return a reasonable answer.
The Nubians can never say enough in praise of their faithfulness in
friendly intercourse and of the order and stability of their national
life. According to the Nubians, too, the Monbuttoo were their superiors
in the arts of war, and I often heard the resident soldiers contending
with their companions and saying, “Well, perhaps you are not afraid of
the Monbuttoo, but I confess that I am; and I can tell you they are
something to be afraid of.”

[Sidenote: A MONBUTTOO AMAZON.]

As matter of fact the Khartoom traders, some years before, had had a
definite trial of arms with the Monbuttoo. Shortly after his accession
to power, Munza had of his own accord and by a special embassy invited
Aboo Sammat to extend his transactions beyond their present limits in
Nganye’s and Wando’s territories; but in the year previous to that,
the Nubian merchant Abderahman Aboo Guroon, having endeavoured to
penetrate from Keefa’s dominions into the Monbuttoo lands, was attacked
on the north of the Welle by the Monbuttoo forces, who opposed his
advances upon their territory. At that time Munza’s father, Tikkiboh,
had absolute rule in the country, and the achievements of his daughter
Nalengbe, a sister of the present king, are still fresh in the memory
of all who were present at the engagement; eye-witnesses gave me
detailed accounts of the exploits of this veritable Amazon, whom I
have mentioned before, and related how, in full armour, with shield
and lance, and girded with the rokko apron of a man, she had with the
utmost bravery led on the Monbuttoo troops, who then for the first time
came in contact with firearms; and how her exertions were attended
with a complete success, the adventurous Aboo Guroon being repulsed
with considerable loss, and forced to relinquish altogether his design
of entering the country. In the following year, 1867, Mohammed Aboo
Sammat, invited as I have said by the king himself, crossed the Welle
and entered the land, thus, as the first explorer, opening the ivory
traffic under conditions of peace, which have ever since remained
undisturbed.

The Monbuttoo potentates enjoy far higher prerogatives than the
Niam-niam princes. Besides the monopoly of the ivory, they claim
regular contributions from the products of the soil. In addition to
his special body-guard, the sovereign is always surrounded by a large
body of courtiers, whilst an immense number of civil officers and
local overseers maintain the regal dignity in the various districts
of the land. Munza’s three brothers, Izingerria, Mummery, and Nooma,
perform the office of viceroys, and subordinate to these again are
sub-chieftains of the second rank, who act as governors of provinces.

Next in rank to the sub-chieftains, who are generally chosen from the
numerous members of the blood-royal, are the principal officers of
state. These are five in number: the keeper of the weapons, the master
of the ceremonies, the superintendent of the commissariat stores, the
master of the household to the royal ladies, and the interpreter for
intercourse with strangers and foreign rulers.

Munza never leaves his residence without being accompanied by several
hundred of his retinue, and, in token of his dignity, a long array of
drummers, trumpeters, and couriers with great iron bells are sent at
the head of the procession. The harem, in the immediate vicinity of
the palace, consists of eighty young ladies, who, with their attendant
women slaves, occupy as many huts erected in a wide circuit within
the precincts of the royal halls and private apartments. Enclosed by
these huts is a smooth and ample space, where the well-trodden red
soil offers a fine contrast to the deep green foliage of the groups
of oil-palms, bread-fruit trees, cordiæ, trumpet-trees, urostigmæ,
and other trees by which it is overshadowed. Munza holds his councils
in the great halls, and on appointed days grants audiences, and
occasionally gives one of the extensive feasts, accompanied by music
and dancing, such as I have already described.

[Sidenote: THE ROYAL WIVES.]

The royal ladies are divided, according to age and seniority, into
several classes. The elder matrons occupy villages built for their
accommodation at some distance from the residence; their number
amounts to several hundred, for, besides his own wives of the first
and second rank, Munza is bound to maintain the ladies inherited from
his father, and even those belonging to a deceased brother. It is a
long-established African custom that at a king’s death his wives should
fall to the lot of his successor, who never fails to annex to their
number a large addition of his own. In the sixteenth century the wives
of the King of Loango were estimated at 7000.

Whenever at night the king leaves his private apartments to visit
his wives, the place re-echoes with the shouts of the courtiers,
accompanied by the strains of horns and kettledrums, and then, too, may
be heard the Monbuttoo hymn, “Ee, ee, Munza, tchuppy, tchuppy, ee.”
Eye-witnesses state that the king spends his night in passing from
one hut to another, and without favouring any with an especially long
visit; but it is all done in the strictest _incognito_ and under cover
of the darkness. Besides the courtiers, the royal household contains
many officials appointed to some peculiar functions; there are the
private musicians, trumpeters and buglers, whose productions testify
to the time and labour spent upon their acquirement; there are eunuchs
and jesters, ballad-singers and dancers, who combine to increase the
splendour of the court, and to provide general amusement for the festal
gatherings. In addition to these there are numbers of stewards, who
keep order at the feasts and, by a free use of their rods, restrain the
over-obtrusiveness of the younger portion of the community.

The king’s private residence consists of a group of several large huts,
each of which is set apart for one of his daily occupations. They are
enclosed, like a Seriba, with a palisade, and are shaded by plantations
of well-kept trees. The king’s food is always prepared by one of his
wives, who perform the office in turn, relieving one another at stated
intervals. Munza invariably takes his meals in private; no one may see
the contents of his dish, and everything that he leaves is carefully
thrown into a pit set apart for that purpose. All that the king has
handled is held as sacred, and may not be touched; and a guest, though
of the highest rank, may not so much as light his pipe with an ember
from the fire that burns before his throne. Any similar attempt would
be considered as high treason and punished with immediate death.

As permission was granted me to inspect the internal arrangements of
the royal palace, I was enabled to survey the whole series of huts. The
king’s wardrobe alone occupied several apartments. In one room I saw
nothing but hats and feathers of every variety, special value being
laid upon the red parrot’s feathers, which are arranged in great round
tufts. One hut there was in which were suspended whole bundles of the
tails of civets, genets, potamochœri, and giraffes, together with skins
and thousands of the ornaments with which the king was accustomed to
adorn his person. I observed also long strings of the teeth of rare
animals captured in the chase. One ornament alone, composed of more
than a hundred lions’ fangs, must have been a costly heirloom to be
handed on from father to son. For the first time I noticed the skin of
the _Galago Demidoffi_, an animal hitherto only observed in Western
Africa.

A little conical hut that I was shown was set apart for the privacy of
the royal retiring-room, the only one of the kind that I came across in
Central Africa. The internal arrangements of this corresponded exactly
with what is seen in Turkish dwelling-houses. The heathen negroes are
generally more observant of decorum in this respect than any Mohammedan.

On another occasion I was conducted through the armoury. The store of
weapons consisted principally of lances tied up in bundles of two or
three hundred together, which in times of war are distributed amongst
the fighting force; there are also piles of the knives and daggers
which are borne by Monbuttoo warriors. In the same place were kept
the ornamental weapons which are used for decorating the royal halls
on festal occasions, consisting for the most part of immense spears,
formed head and shaft alike of pure copper, and brightly polished.

The storehouses and corn-magazines were provided with well-made,
water-tight roofs, and Munza spends a portion of every day in the
several sections, personally superintending the distribution and
arrangement of the stores.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO CIVILIZATION.]

From these details it may be understood that the Monbuttoo are
subject to a monarchical government of an importance beyond the
average of those of Central Africa; and in its institutions it
appears to correspond with the descriptions of negro empires long
since passed away. The half mythical empire of the powerful Mwata
Yanvo, whose influence doubtless extended to the Monbuttoo lands,
may probably, to a certain extent, have furnished the type for many
of these institutions; but be that as it may, it is an indisputable
fact, that of all the known nations of Central Africa the Monbuttoo,
without any influence from the Mohammedan or Christian world, have
attained to no contemptible degree of external culture, and their
leading characteristics prove them to belong to a group of nations
which inhabit the inmost heart of Africa, and which are being now
embraced in the enlarging circle of geographical knowledge. The land
of the Manuyema, visited by Livingstone, and the states of Mwata
Yanvo, frequented by the Portuguese traders, form respectively the
south-western and south-eastern limits of this immense territory, which
in area surpasses half of European Russia.

In turning to the national characteristics of this people, we may
notice in the first place that their complexion is of a lighter
tint than that of almost all the known nations of Central Africa,
the colour of whose skins may be generally compared, by the test
I have frequently adopted, to that of ground coffee. It is this
peculiarity that forms a great distinction between the Monbuttoo and
the Niam-niam, whose complexions are more aptly compared to cakes of
chocolate or ripe olives. It cannot fail to strike the traveller as
remarkable that in all African nations he meets with individuals with
black, red, and yellow complexions, whilst the yellow tribes of Asia
and the copper-coloured tribes of America each present a remarkable
uniformity in the tone and shade of their skins. Barth observed this
peculiarity among the Marghi; he noticed some individuals who were
quite black, and others who had coppery-red skins, or, as he describes
them, rhubarb-coloured, in distinction to those which he compared to
_chocolat-au-lait_. His supposition that an intermingling of races was
the sole cause of this diversity of complexion is probably incorrect,
as it appears to be a characteristic of the entire series of the
red-skinned races of Africa.

The Monbuttoo have less fulness of muscle than the Niam-niam, without,
however, any appearance of debility. The growth of the hair is much the
same, and the beard is much more developed than that of the Niam-niam.

[Sidenote: PHYSIOLOGICAL SPECULATION.]

But there is one special characteristic that is quite peculiar to the
Monbuttoo. To judge from the hundreds who paid visits of curiosity
to my teat, and from the thousands whom I saw during my three weeks’
sojourn with Munza, I should say that at least five per cent. of the
population have light hair. This was always of the closely frizzled
quality of the negro type, and was always associated with the lightest
skins that I had seen since leaving Lower Egypt. Its colour was by
no means like that which is termed light hair amongst ourselves, but
was of a mongrel tint mixed with grey, suggesting the comparison to
hemp. All the individuals who had this light hair and complexion
had a sickly expression about the eyes, and presented many signs
of pronounced albinism; they recalled a description given by Isaac
Vossius, in his book upon the origin of the Nile, of the white men
he saw at the court of the King of Loango: he says that “they were
sickly-looking and wan of countenance, with their eyes drawn as though
they were squinting.” In the previous chapter I have given a similar
description of one of the king’s sons, named Bunza. This combination of
light hair and skin gives the Monbuttoo a position distinct from all
the nations of the northern part of Africa, with the single exception
of the various inhabitants of Morocco, amongst whom fair-haired
individuals are far from uncommon.

It has been already observed that in the physiognomical form of the
skull the Monbuttoo in many ways recall the type of the Semitic tribes;
and they differ from the ordinary run of negroes in the greater length
and curve of the nose. All these characteristics betoken an affinity
with the Fulbe, and as such the Monbuttoo may probably be included
amongst the “Pyrrhi Æthiopes” of Ptolemy. This would, however, be but a
vague supposition if it were not supported by the fact that the Fulbe
are of eastern origin, although in later times a portion of them have
made a retrogade movement from Senegal towards the east. It must be
understood that I do not intend by these remarks to offer a bridge for
carrying over Eichwaldt’s theory bf the affinity of the Fulbe with
the Malays, nor do I intend by such a national migration to add a new
link to what he declares to be accomplished in the case of Meroe.
Barth considers these Fulbe to be the issue of a double cross, a cross
between the Arabs and people of Barbary on the one hand and the people
of Barbary and the negroes on the other. This hypothesis, I believe,
would also hold good for the Monbuttoo; but altogether it is a question
too vague to be capable of being here discussed with any justice.

On account of the loss of the specimens of the Monbuttoo dialect,
which I had been at great pains to collect by means of a double
interpretation, I am unfortunately not in a position to give much
information about the dialect; this much, however, I can confidently
assert, that it is a branch of the great African language-stock north
of the equator, the greater number of the words belonging to the
Nubio-Lybian group.

Still more than in the colour of their skin do the Monbuttoo differ
from the neighbouring nations in dress and habits. This appears to be
a land where costume is a settled matter of rule, for the uniformity
of attire is as complete as it is rapidly becoming under the sway of
fashion in all classes of our civilized communities.

Weaving is an art unknown to the Monbuttoo, and their only material
for clothing is obtained from their fig-tree (_Urostigma Fotschyana_),
the bark of which is found to be in a condition most serviceable for
the purpose when the trunk of the tree is about as thick as a man’s
body; the stem is then peeled in rather a remarkable manner: two
circular incisions, four or five feet apart, are made right round
the trunk, and the bark is removed entire; strange to say, this does
no harm to the tree, and in a very short time a peculiar growth or
granulation takes place along the edge of the upper incision in the
form of little fibres, which gradually descend along the bare cambium
or sap-wood, until the tree is once more clothed with a fresh layer
of bast. The only explanation that can be offered for this unusual
growth is, that in peeling off the bark the entire layer of bast is not
removed, but that some portion of it is left hanging to the wood and
retains its vitality.[21] In the course of three years the fresh growth
is complete, and the bark is in a condition to be again removed;
apart from this property, the rearing of these rokko-trees would not
compensate the natives for the trouble of planting them.

[Illustration: Monbuttoo Warriors.]

[Sidenote: ROKKO-TREES.]

The rokko bark has a certain resemblance to the lime-bast, which is so
important an article of commerce in Russia; its fibres, however, have
not the smoothness and paper-like thinness of the Russian product, but
are tangled together almost like a woven mass. By a partial maceration
and a good deal of thrashing, the Moributtoo contrive to give the bark
the appearance of a thick close fabric, which, in its rough condition,
is of a grey colour, but after being soaked in a decoction of wood
acquires a reddish-brown hue, something like ordinary woollen stuff.
Fastened at the waist with a girdle, one of these pieces of bark is
sufficient to clothe the body, from the breast downwards to the knees,
with a very effective substitute for drapery. Representations of two
Monbuttoo warriors in full array are given in the illustration on the
preceding page.

The women go almost entirely unclothed; they wear nothing but a portion
of a plantain leaf or a piece of bark about the size of their hand
attached to the front of their girdle; the rest of the body being
figured in laboured patterns by means of a black juice obtained from
the Blippo (_Randia malleifera_). Whilst the Dinka women, leaving
perfect nudity as the prerogative of their husbands, are modestly
clothed with skins—whilst the Mittoo and Bongo women wear their girdle
of foliage, and the Niam-niam women their apron of hides, the women of
the Monbuttoo—where the men are more scrupulously and fully clothed
than any of the nations that I came across throughout my journey—go
almost entirely naked.

Whenever the women go out, they carry across their arm a strap which
they lay across their laps on sitting down. These straps or scarfs
are about a foot wide, and something like a saddle-girth, and as they
form their first attempt in the art of weaving, their texture is of
the clumsiest order, possessing no other recommendation than their
durability; they are appropriated to the further use of fastening
infants to their mothers’ backs.

[Sidenote: TATTOOING OF THE WOMEN.]

The women can be distinguished from one another by the different
tattooed figures running in bands across the breast and back along
the shoulders; their bodies, moreover, are painted with an almost
inexhaustible variety of patterns. Stars and Maltese crosses, bees and
flowers, are all enlisted as designs; at one time the entire body is
covered with stripes like a zebra, and at another with irregular spots
and dots like a tiger; I have seen these women streaked with veins like
marble, and even covered with squares like a chess-board. At the great
festivals every Monbuttoo lady endeavours to outshine her compeers, and
accordingly applies all her powers of invention to the adornment of her
person. The patterns last for about two days, when they are carefully
rubbed off, and replaced by new designs.

[Illustration: Monbuttoo Woman.]

Instead of this paint the men use a cosmetic prepared from pulverised
cam-wood, which is mixed with fat and then rubbed over the whole
body. The Niam-niam also make use of this powder, but they only apply
it partially in irregular spots and stripes, delighting especially
in staining the breast and face to increase the ferocity of their
appearance.

The _coiffure_ of both sexes is alike; the hair of the top and back
of the head is mounted up into a long cylindrical chignon, and being
fastened on the inside by an arrangement made of reeds, slopes
backwards in a slanting direction. Across the forehead, from temple
to temple, the hair is twisted in thin tresses, which lie one above
another, closely fitting the skull until they reach the crown of the
head. Their own hair is rarely long enough to form this portion of the
head-gear, but the deficiency is supplied from the heads of those who
have fallen in war, or, since hair is an article of traffic in the
country, it is procured from the market. On the top of their chignon,
the men wear the cylindrical straw-hats so often referred to. These
are without brims, square at the top and circular at the base, and
are adorned either with the tufts of red parrots’ feathers that I
have described in connection with Munza’s wardrobe,[22] or with the
long feathers of eagles and falcons. The hats, of course, follow the
slanting directions of the chignon, and fall back diagonally to the
head, and altogether the head-gear is remarkably similar to that worn
by the Ishogo women in Western Africa. The Monbuttoo women wear no
hat on their chignon, which is merely adorned with little hair-pins
attached to combs made of the quills of the porcupines.

These details may suffice to give a fair notion of the external
appearance of the Monbuttoo, and if I add that their only mutilation of
the body consists in boring the inner muscle of the ear for the purpose
of inserting a bar about the size of a cigar, I shall have described
all the fashions in vogue, from which no individual is at liberty to
make marked deviation. They neither break out their lower incisor
teeth, like the black nations on the northern river plains, nor do
they file them to points, like the Niam-niam; neither do they imitate
the Bongo and Mittoo women in the hideous perforation of their lips;
and I repeat that, if we except circumcision (which, according to the
accounts of all the heathen negroes of equatorial Africa, is a custom
they have received from their remote ancestors), this piercing of the
ear is the one disfigurement of nature adopted by the Monbuttoo. On
account of this practice the Khartoomers have conferred upon them the
title of “Gurrugurroo,” _i.e._ “pierced,” in contradistinction to the
Niam-niam in general, Niam-niam being, as I have said, the term used by
the inhabitants of the Soudan for all cannibals, irrespective of their
various nationalities.

[Illustration: WEAPONS OF THE MONBUTTOO.

Figs. 1-9. Various scimitars.
10. Large dagger.
11. Hand-knife, for carving and peeling bark.
]

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO WEAPONS.]

The weapons of the Monbuttoo warriors are very numerous. Besides
shields and lances, they also carry bows and arrows, a combination
somewhat rare amongst Africans; in addition to these, in their girdles
they are accustomed to have scimitars with curved blades like sickles,
whilst some of them use daggers and spatular knives of all shapes and
sizes. The projectiles which are in use among the Niam-niam are not
included in the equipment of the Monbuttoo.

Since the Monbuttoo dwell upon the red ferruginous soil extending from
the Gazelle over a large portion of Central Africa, it may be assumed
as a matter of course that smiths’ work must play an important part in
their industrial pursuits, and indeed in this respect they excel all
other natives of the districts through which I travelled, whilst in
other branches of their manufacture they surpassed even the Mohammedans
of Northern Africa.

The smelting process is of the most primitive description, and is the
same that has been described by travellers in all parts of Africa. The
simplicity of the arrangement is caused by the ventilating apparatus;
for as the construction of valves is unknown, a continual draft is
produced by means of two clay vessels, of which the openings are
covered by the Monbuttoo smiths with plantain leaves, which have been
allowed to simmer in hot water until they have become as flexible
as silk: other nations cover the openings with soft skins. Although
entirely without our pincers, hammers, and files, the Monbuttoo have
a set of implements of their own, by means of which their iron-work
is more carefully manipulated than that of any of their neighbours.
Instead of the usual stone anvil, they use a miniature one of wrought
iron, and on this each separate weapon is cut out with a chisel, and
hammered until an approximate degree of sharpness is attained; the
edge being brought to its finish by a piece of fine-ground sandstone
or gneiss, which answers the purpose of a file. As a general rule, no
special form is given to the iron used as a medium of exchange, unless
indeed the great semicircular bars in the royal treasury be considered
as currency, and which remind one of the rough copper rings that are
brought from the mines of Darfoor.[23] Neither plates of iron nor round
spades (melots) are in vogue, but the smiths have to work from great
lumps of iron as large as the fist. The dexterity of these artificers
is wonderful, and the short space of time in which they will convert
the raw material into spades and lances is, I should think, unrivalled.
The Monbuttoo smiths often joined our Bongo workmen at their forges in
our camp, and as I had frequent opportunity of observing and comparing
the two, I do not hesitate in asserting the decided superiority of the
workmanship of the Monbuttoo.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO METAL WORK.]

The masterpieces, however, of these Monbuttoo smiths are the ornamental
chains which, in refinement of form and neatness of finish, might vie
with our best steel chains; in fact, according to the judgment of
_connoisseurs_, many of these specimens of autochthonic art may well
bear comparison with the productions of our European craftsmen. The
process of tempering is quite unknown to them, the necessary hardness
being attained by continual hammering: the material used is singularly
pure and homogeneous, qualities acquired not from any perfection of
the smelting apparatus, but from the laborious welding of the separate
particles of iron.

Copper was already known, and the king was in possession of large
quantities of the metal, before the Nubians set foot in the country;
and as previously to that event the Monbuttoo (if we except the great
raid which Barth reports to have been made upon them by the Foorians in
1834) had had no intercourse with the Mohammedan world, there is every
reason to conclude that they must have received their supply either
from the copper mines of Angola and Loango, or from some other region
of the north-western portion of South Africa.

Almost all the ornaments worn by the Monbuttoo are made of copper, so
that it may be easily understood that the demand for the metal is not
small. One of the most frequent uses to which it is applied is that of
making flat wires, many yards long, to wind round the handles of knives
and scimitars, or round the shafts of lances and bows. Copper, as well
as iron, is used for the clasps which are attached to the shields,
partly for ornament and partly to prevent them from splitting. Copper
necklaces are in continual wear, and copper fastenings are attached
to the rings of buffalo-hide and to the thick thongs of the girdles.
The little bars inserted through the ear are tipped with the same
metal; in fact there is hardly an ornament that fails in an adjunct
of copper in some form or other; persons of rank not unfrequently
pride themselves in having ornamental weapons formed entirely of it.
All other metals being unknown, iron and copper are estimated by the
Monbuttoo as silver and gold by ourselves, and the silver platter with
which I presented the king failed to elicit any comment beyond the
observation that it was white iron. Lead and tin have been introduced
as curiosities by the Nubians, but previous to their arrival had never
been seen. Information, however, which was incidentally dropped by a
Niam-niam, led me to suppose that fragments of platinum about the size
of peas have been found in these lands: he told me that a white metal,
as hard as iron and as heavy as the lead of which the Nubians made
their bullets, had been discovered, but that its existence was always
carefully concealed from the strangers. I see no reason to doubt the
truth of this statement, since it originated from a people who in no
other way could have become aware of the existence of such a metal,
which has been hitherto as unknown to the Nubians as silver and gold to
the Monbuttoo.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO WEAPONS.]

It would require many illustrations to convey an adequate idea of the
various forms of the beads of the arrows and lances: suffice it to
say, that the symmetry of the various barbs, spikes, and prongs with
which they are provided is always perfect. The prevailing forms of the
spear-heads are hastate, whilst the arrows are generally made flat or
spatular, as inflicting a deeper and wider wound than the pointed tips.
All weapons of the Monbuttoo and the Niam-niam are provided with blood
gutters, a mark which serves to distinguish them at once from those
of the Bongo and Mittoo. The shafts of the Monbuttoo arrows are made
of reed-grass, and differ from all others of the Bongo territory by
being winged with pieces of genet’s skin or plantain leaves. The bows
are rather over three feet in length, and in form and size correspond
very nearly with those used by the Mittoo and Bongo; the bow-strings
being made of a strip of the split Spanish reed, which possesses more
elasticity than any cord. These bows are provided with a small hollow
piece of wood for protecting the thumb from the rebound of the string.
The arrow is always discharged from between the middle fingers.

[Illustration: Spear-heads.]

The perfection of their instruments gives the Monbuttoo a great
advantage in the art of wood-carving, and they are the only African
nation, including even the modern Egyptians, who make use of a
graving-tool with a single edge, an instrument which, by supporting
the forefinger, enables the workman to give a superior finish to the
details of his productions. The wood used for carving is generally
that of the stem of one of the Rubiaceæ (_Uncaria_), of which the
soft close texture resembles that of poplar-wood. The felling of these
giant-trees, which vary from six to eight feet in diameter, and often
shoot up to a height of forty feet without throwing forth a single
branch, is performed by means of their small hatchets, with a most
tedious amount of labour. The hatchets are like those which are used in
other parts of Central Africa, and consist of a sharpened iron wedge
inserted through the thick end of a knotted club; thus every blow tends
to fix the blade firmer in its socket. The number of blows necessary to
fell one of these ponderous trees must amount to several thousand, and
yet I often noticed stems lying in the forest the ends of which were as
smooth as though they had been cut with a knife, a circumstance that
attests their correctness of vision, a quality in which the negroes
outshine the Arabs and Nubians, as much as in their appreciation of
sound and musical talent. The first crude form is given to the larger
blocks of wood by means of a tool something like a cooper’s adze.[24]
When first hewn, the wood of the Uncaria is white, but it is afterwards
blackened by exposure to fire, or still more frequently by being
allowed to lie in the dark soil of the brooks.

[Illustration: Hatchet, spade, and adze, of the Monbuttoo.]

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO HANDICRAFT.]

Platters, stools, drums, boats, and shields constitute the chief items
of their handicraft. Upon the Lower Shary, the boats which are in
common use are manufactured by fastening together wooden planks, but
here, on the Welle, canoes are hewn out of a solid stem, and are in
every way adapted for their purpose. I saw some of them upwards of
thirty-eight feet long and five feet wide, quite large enough for the
conveyance of horses and cattle.[25]

[Illustration: Wooden kettle-drum.]

The large signal-drums of the Niam-niam are to be seen in every
Monbuttoo village. They stand sometimes upon four, and sometimes upon
two, feet, and are like the instruments which are seen upon the West
Coast. Another smaller kind is made in a semicircular shape, very
compressed, and fitted with a handle at the top; the opening for the
sound is below, and the instrument may be compared to a flattened bell.

[Illustration: Single seat used by the Women.]

Benches and stools, such as are exclusively used by the women, are
made in every diversity of shape. They are carved out of a single
block, for, to say the truth, no people of Central Africa seems to
have acquired the art of joining one piece of wood to another, so that
the craft of the cabinet-maker may be said to be unknown. The seats of
these stools are circular and somewhat hollowed out, surmounting a
prettily carved stem, which rises from a circular or polygonal base.
Close to the edge of the seat is a triangular aperture, which serves
as a handle. They are usually made from twelve to sixteen inches
high, and are hardly to be distinguished from certain contrivances
for meal-times, which are here made so as to serve at once for table
and plate. Wooden platters there are of every possible size: one
kind of them has two open ring-shaped handles; another stands upon
four feet, and both are patterns quite worthy of our own factories
at home. Besides the single seats they are in the habit of making
long benches also with four feet. The practice of making all their
utensils to stand upon feet is all but universal among the Niam-niam
and the Monbuttoo, even the little cylindrical boxes covered with
bark for storing away their knick-knacks being finished off in this
fashion. The ordinary seats of the men are made exclusively from the
leaf-stalks of the Raphia palm: they always keep to precisely the same
form, and in their manufacture appear to indicate a first attempt at
the joiner’s art. The benches of the Monbuttoo men are about five feet
long and of corresponding width; they are made of such lightness that
one of our bearers, without any apparent exertion, carried six of them
at once; but they are nevertheless of very extraordinary firmness,
and the way in which the separate parts are fixed together is really
very ingenious. The Monbuttoo do not fasten their benches or any of
their structures by means of nails or pegs, but they sew them, as it
were, together by fine split Spanish reeds, which by their unyielding
toughness answer as admirably as in the manufacture of our cane-chairs.

[Sidenote: SEATS AND SHIELDS.]

Backs are not attached to the Monbuttoo seats; but as some support of
the kind is clearly indispensable, they endeavour to supply its place
by placing by the side of their benches a singular sort of crutch.
This is obtained by taking a young tree and cutting a section of it,
where what botanists call its “verticillate ramification” has developed
itself into four additional separate limbs: the main stem and two of
the boughs supply the three feet, the other two boughs serving, with
the continuation of the stem, to make the arms and back. No wood is so
available for the purpose as that of the cotton tree (_Eriodendron_).

[Illustration: Seat-rest.]

The shields of the warriors are hewn out of the thickest stems by
means of the axe, and consist of perfectly smooth rectangular boards,
not more than half an inch thick, but which are long enough to cover
two-thirds of the person. These inelegant instruments of defensive
warfare, in which the recommendation of solidity is ill sacrificed for
the sake of their lightness, require to be protected from splitting or
starting, and to secure this a number of parallel seams of rotang are
fixed across the width, and both the upper and lower edges are provided
with a strong border of rotang twist, and a strong rib run across the
middle gives them an additional firmness. They are generally decorated
with tails of the guinea-hog (_Potamochærus_), and are invariably
stained quite black. If any fissures or cracks should be detected, they
are at once drawn together by iron and copper braces.

[Illustration: Water-bottles.]

Contrasted with the rest of Africa, and even with the Bongo, whose
comparative skill was noticed on a previous page,[26] the district
shows a very considerable advance in the manufacture of their pottery.
Although they remain as unacquainted as other races with the use of
the wheel, their productions, besides being of a superior quality,
are of a more perfect symmetry than any which are elsewhere observed.
All the vessels and drinking-cups of the Africans in general have the
character of urns, being made without handles and being never otherwise
than spherical in form; but those of the Monbuttoo exhibit a manifest
improvement, and by having the surface decorated either with some
raised symmetrical pattern (which is especially the case upon their
oil vessels) or with some ornamental figures, they afford a firm hold
to the hand, and thus make good the lack of handles for lifting them.
It is, however, principally upon the water-bottles that the greatest
care is bestowed, some of which may fairly be said to rival in symmetry
the far-famed examples of Egyptian art, and to betray a considerable
faculty of plastic genius.[27]

[Sidenote: GRASS ORNAMENTS.]

For the bowls of pipes, upon which other of the native populations
lavish so much care, they have no use. They smoke only the Virginian
tobacco, and for this purpose employ the midrib of the plantain leaf
in the way that I have already described,[28] superseding entirely the
necessity for a solid bowl.

They are very ignorant of the art of leather-dressing, and are no more
acquainted with the use of tan than any of the rest of the tribes that
have their homes in the Bahr-el-Ghazal district.

Their baskets and nets are woven out of rotang, the form of the baskets
in which they bear burdens on their backs being very similar to those
which are seen amongst the Thuringians. Their mode of dressing their
hair necessarily prevents them from ever carrying a load upon their
heads.

They are in the habit of twisting ornaments for themselves out of reeds
and grass, which they wear like rings round their arms and legs, and
which make a rustling sound as they walk. They bestow a great amount of
care in weaving the fine webs which hold on their hats and chignons.
The rattles, filled with shells and pebbles, that are used for beating
time to the music of the drums and horns at the great festivals are
also woven from reeds.

The Monbuttoo musical instruments require no particular description.
They do not include the pretty little mandolins of the Niam-niam, nor
any other stringed instruments, and their horns, trumpets, and drums
may be said to be little short of universal throughout Africa. Wooden
dulcimers (Marimba) are met with neither here nor in South Africa.

But the artistic versatility of the people reveals itself more than
anywhere else in their architectural skill. It would hardly be credited
that Africa would be capable of rearing any erection so spacious and
well proportioned as the hall of Munza’s palace. This was little short
of 150 feet in length and 60 feet in breadth, and rose to the height of
about 50 feet. Combined with these imposing dimensions were a lightness
of character and solidity of structure that were quite remarkable.
The ever-useful leaf-stalks of the wine-palm form the principal
building-material, and its natural polish and bright brown colour give
every building for which it is used an aspect of finished grace. The
flat horizontal roofs of their huts, as distinguished from the conical
roofs which we have hitherto observed as almost universal throughout
the rest of Central Africa, mark out these Monbuttoo in a fresh respect
as being allied to the natives of the west, viz., the Ishogo, the
Ashango, the Bakalai, the Ashiva, the Camma, the Mpongwe, and the
Fan—a relation that is further confirmed by the physical character
of the land, the streams of which flow to the west instead of to the
north. Some of the huts, however, have conical roofs, and these are
generally appropriated, either as kitchens, because they allow better
escape for the smoke, or as granaries, because they throw off the rain
more rapidly.

The dwellings of the ordinary population are by no means large,
being seldom more than thirty feet long, and twenty feet wide; the
roofs project considerably, and are slightly rounded with a bend
corresponding to the natural curvature of the palm leaves from
which they are made, and which furnish the ribs of the roof. They
are rendered water-tight by a lining of plantain leaves, which is
frequently covered again with grass, straw, or skin. The walls are
built up to a height of five or six feet, and are lined like the roof
and bound together by the split Spanish reed. This, again, is the mode
of erecting the huts upon the West Coast. It offers an astonishing
power of resistance to the fury of the elements, which, left to play
upon rows of posts or to range through open halls, might be expected to
work complete destruction; yet such is the stability with which the
Monbuttoo huts are raised, that they never totter in a storm, and only
show by a slight trembling in the walls that they are exposed to the
violence of a hurricane.

A spacious doorway is the only aperture for light and air, the door
itself being made in one piece; the interior is divided into two
apartments, the more remote of which is reserved for the stores.

[Sidenote: TREES.]

Plantations of trees are frequent, and still more frequent are patches
of shrubs, which are intentionally suffered to grow, and which, as
being serviceable, are permitted to survive the extirpation of the
ancient forests. These are generally to be seen in the immediate
vicinity of the unenclosed farms. In addition to them, many trees are
allowed to stand for the sake of the shelter they afford; and some are
kept because of their useful products, as for example, the _Tephrosia
Vogelii_, which furnishes the powder for poisoning fish; or the
_Randia malleifera_, which produces the pigment for the staining of
the skin, and of which the white funnel-shaped blossoms are a striking
ornament to the bushes; and some are retained merely for ornament
and for increasing the pleasantness of the external aspect of their
dwellings. As examples of this superfluous indulgence I may refer to
the marvellous _Mussaenda_, with its glowing bracts, and to the variety
of resplendent orchids. Here, too, I noticed what I must not omit to
record, the turf-like _Chlorophytum_, with its variegated leaves of
mingled white and green, which is employed among the Niam-niam as
a charm to detect a thief, much in the same way as the _Canavalia
ensiformis_, known as the “overlook” or horse-bean, is employed in
Jamaica and Haiti, where it is sown in the negro-plantations for that
purpose.

The huts are arranged in sets following the lines of the brooks along
the valleys, the space between each group being occupied by plantations
of oil-palms. The dwellings are separated from the lowest parts of the
depressions by the plantain-grounds, whilst above, on the higher and
drier soil, extend the fields of sweet-potatoes and colocasiæ.

No one could seriously expect a traveller, after a transient residence
of five weeks, to pass anything like a decided judgment upon the
religious ideas of a people like the Monbuttoo. A wide scope for
speculation is undoubtedly opened, but it would ill become a stranger
to pretend to pronounce a conclusive verdict. I must be excused,
therefore, from drawing any very definite inference from the fact that
they adopt the rite of circumcision so far as to have it performed
on boys when they come to an age of puberty, a period of life which
is neither in accordance with the original prescription, nor with
the doctrine of Mohammed. I may say, however, that I never allowed
myself to be unconcerned with regard to any of the people amongst
whom I journeyed as to their opinions about a presiding Deity, but,
by collecting all the proofs I could from their habitual speech, I
endeavoured to learn what were their conceptions about the sovereignty
of an invisible power, and its influence upon the destinies of men.

[Sidenote: MONBUTTOO THEOLOGY.]

The Monbuttoo have undoubtedly very intelligent ideas of what the
Nubians mean by their bowing of the knee, their prostrations to the
ground, and their cry of “Allah!” The very designation which they use
to express their conception of God as the concentration of the Supreme
Being, opens a long vista into the kindred association of African
people. In the district of the Mahas, the word now employed for the God
of the Nubians is “Nor,” and, upon the authority of my interpreters,
I may state that “Noro” was the term by which, after the double
interpretation, “Allah” was rendered to me. When the question was put
as to where “Noro” resided, the Monbuttoo, who was familiar with the
Niam-niam dialect, pointed upwards to the sky; but when he was further
pressed with the inquiry whether he could see him, he only answered
with a smile. Whether the Monbuttoo are in the habit of consulting
oracles, or whether they have any reliance upon auguries from fowls,
or any fortune-telling apparatus corresponding to the “damma” of the
Niam-niam, my residence among them was not long enough to permit me to
ascertain.

[Illustration: Bongo woman. Dinka woman. (See description, vol. i.,
p. 296.)]

FOOTNOTES:

[19] Heuglin in 1863, had received intelligence of what was
now proved, viz. that the same district from which
issues the White Nile also gives birth to another
stream, called by him the river of Sena.

[20] A kindred plant of this genus is used in the West
Indies, where the practice is generally carried on by
slaves.

[21] Livingstone observed a similar new growth of bark on
the trunk of the Baobab (_Adansonia_), from which the
Matabele obtain material for cord.

[22] In the woodcut which represents Munza in full dress,
the king has one of these clusters of feathers in his
hat.

[23] Iron rings of the heaviest calibre are current in
Wandalo, south of Bornoo.

[24] One of these tools is represented in the accompanying
illustration.

[25] A boat of this kind is seen in the view of the rapids
of the Keebaly, in Chap. XVII.

[26] _Vide_ vol. i. page 292.

[27] The two examples of water-bottles given in the
engravings are copies of the originals, which are
deposited in the Ethnographical Museum in Berlin. To
the one in three compartments handles are attached,
being the only instance of the kind that I ever saw.

[28] _Vide_ vol. i. page 547.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE PYGMIES. Nubian stories. Ancient classical allusions. Homer,
Herodotus, Aristotle. My introduction to Pygmies. Adimokoo the
Akka. Close questioning. War-dance. Visits from many Akka.
Mummery’s Pygmy corps. My adopted Pygmy. Nsewue’s life and
death. Dwarf races of Africa. Accounts of previous authors:
Battel, Dapper, Kölle. Analogy of Akka with Bushmen. Height and
complexion. Hair and beards. Shape of the body. Awkward gait.
Graceful hands. Form of skull. Size of eyes and ears. Lips.
Gesticulations. Dialect inarticulate. Dexterity and cunning.
Munza’s protection of the race.

Whenever two or three Egyptians are found in company, the chances
are very great that their conversation, if it could be overheard,
would be found to relate to the market prices of the day, or to some
fluctuations in the state of trade. With the romantic sons of the
Nubian Nile-valley the case would be very different. Ample opportunity
of making this comparison was continually afforded me during the long
evenings which I passed in my transit upon the waters of the Upper
Nile; and even now I can recall with vivid interest the hours when,
from my detached compartment on the stern of the boat, I could, without
being observed, listen to the chatter by which the Nubians on the
voyage beguiled their time. They seemed to talk with eagerness of all
the wonders of the world. Some would expatiate upon the splendours of
the City of the Caliphs, and others enlarge upon the accomplishment of
the Suez Canal and the huge ships of the Franks; but the stories that
ever commanded the most rapt attention were those which treated of war
and of the chase; or, beyond all, such as described the wild beasts
and still wilder natives of Central Africa.

[Sidenote: NUBIAN TALES.]

It was not with stories in the sense of ‘The Thousand and One Nights’
that this people entertained each other; neither did they recite their
prolix histories as though they were reading at the celebration of
Ramadan in Cairo, amidst the halls where night by night they abandoned
themselves to the enjoyment of their coffee. These things I had now
long ago left far behind; however, occasionally, as the expiring strain
of Arabia, I might still hear the song of Abd-el-Kader the sheikh, or
of Aboo Zeyd the hero. My whole style of living seemed now to partake
of the character of an Odyssey; it appeared to be adapted for the
embellishment of an Homeric episode, and such an episode in truth was
already awaiting me.

Of the Nile itself, which had the appearance, day by day, of becoming
wider as farther and farther we progressed towards the south, they
affirmed that it issued from the ocean by which Africa was girt; they
would declare that we were on the route which would lead us, like the
cranes, to fight with the Pygmies; ever and again they would speak of
Cyclops, of Automoli, or of “Pygmies,” but by whatever name they called
them, they seemed never to weary of recurring to them as the theme of
their talk. Some there were who averred that with their own eyes they
had seen this people of immortal myth; and these—men as they were
whose acquaintance might have been coveted by Herodotus and envied by
Aristotle—were none other than my own servants.

It was a fascinating thing to hear them confidently relate that in the
land to the south of the Niam-niam country there dwelt people who never
grew to more than three feet in height, and who wore beards so long
that they reached to their knees.[29] It was affirmed of them that,
armed with strong lances, they would creep underneath the belly of an
elephant and dexterously kill the beast, managing their own movements
so adroitly that they could not be reached by the creature’s trunk.
Their services in this way were asserted to contribute very largely to
the resources of the ivory traders. The name by which they are known is
the “Shebber-digintoo,” which implies the growth of the disproportioned
beard.

I listened on. The more, however, that I pondered silently over the
stories that they involuntarily disclosed—the more I studied the
traditions to which they referred—so much the more I was perplexed
to explain what must either be the creative faculty or the derived
impressions of the Nubians. Whence came it that they could have gained
any knowledge at all of what Homer had sung? How did it happen that
they were familiar at all with the material which Ovid and Juvenal, and
Nonnus and Statius worked into their verse, giving victory at one time
to the cranes, and at another to the Pygmies themselves?

My own ideas of Pygmies were gathered originally only from books,
but the time seemed now to have come when their existence should be
demonstrated in actual life.

[Sidenote: CLASSICAL WITNESS TO PYGMIES.]

Legends of Pygmies had mingled themselves already with the earliest
surviving literature of the Greeks, and the poet of the Iliad, it will
be remembered, mentions them as a race that had long been known:—

“To warmer seas the cranes embodied fly,
With noise, and order, through the midway sky;
To pygmy nations wounds and death they bring,
And all the war descends upon the wing.”
_Pope’s_ ‘Homer’s Iliad,’ iii. 6-10.

But not the classic _poets_ alone; sober historians and precise
geographers have either adopted the poetic substance of the tradition
or have endeavoured, by every kind of conjecture, to confirm its
accuracy. Nothing, for instance, can be more definite than the
statement of Herodotus about the Nasamonians after they had crossed
the Libyan deserts: “They at length saw some trees growing on a plain,
and having approached they began to gather the fruit that grew on the
trees; and while they were gathering it some diminutive men, less
than men of middle stature, came up and seized them and carried them
away.”[30] The testimony of Aristotle is yet more precise when he says
plainly: “The cranes fly to the lakes above Egypt, from which flows
the Nile; there dwell the Pygmies, and this is no fable but the pure
truth; there, just as we are told, do men and horses of diminutive size
dwell in caves;”[31] a quotation this, which would seem to imply that
the learned Stagyrite was in possession of some exact and positive
information, otherwise he would not have ventured to insist so strongly
upon the truth of his assertion. Very likely, however, we should be
justified in surmising that Aristotle mentions cranes and Pygmies
together only because he had the passage of the Iliad floating in
his memory, and because he was aware of the fact that cranes do pass
the winter in Africa. For my own part, I should be inclined to doubt
whether cranes ever reach the Victoria and Albert Nyanza; on the Red
Sea I saw them in latitude 20° N., and Brehm observed them in Sennaar;
on the White Nile, however, and farther inland, I only found the native
Balearic crane, which could hardly have been the species mentioned by
Aristotle. But whether cranes were really capable of fighting with
Pygmies or not, or whether (as Pauer attempts to prove) the Homeric
tradition was derived from ancient Egyptian symbolism, and so was an
emblematic representation of the cranes battling with the falling
waters of the Nile stream, this is now immaterial; all that concerns
us, with regard to the present topic, is that three or four centuries
before the Christian era the Greeks were aware of the existence of a
people inhabiting the districts about the sources of the Nile, who were
remarkable for their stunted growth. The circumstance may warrant us,
perhaps, in employing the designation of “pygmy,” not for men literally
a span long, but in the sense of Aristotle, for the dwarf races of
Equatorial Africa.

Throughout the time that I had resided in the Seribas of the Bongo
territory, of course I had frequent opportunities of enlarging my
information, and I was continually hearing such romantic stories that
I became familiarised in a way with the belief that the men about
me had really been eye-witnesses of the circumstances they related.
Those who had been attached to the Niam-niam expeditions, whenever
they described the variety of wonders about the splendour of the
courts of the cannibal kings, never omitted to mention the dwarfs who
filled the office of court buffoons; every one outvying another in the
fantastic embellishment of the tales they told. The general impression
that remained upon my mind was that these must be some extraordinary
specimens of pathological phenomena that had been retained by the kings
as natural curiosities. The instance did not escape my recollection
that Speke had given the description and portrait of a dwarf, Kimenya,
with whom he had become acquainted at the court of Kamrasi;[32] but
that there could be a whole series of tribes whose average height
was far below an average never really found a reception in my
understanding, until at the court of Munza the positive evidence was
submitted to my eyes.

Several days elapsed after my taking up my residence by the palace of
the Monbuttoo king without my having a chance to get a view of the
dwarfs, whose fame had so keenly excited my curiosity. My people,
however, assured me that they had seen them. I remonstrated with them
for not having secured me an opportunity of seeing for myself, and
for not bringing them into contact with me. I obtained no other reply
but that the dwarfs were too timid to come. After a few mornings my
attention was arrested by a shouting in the camp, and I learned that
Mohammed had surprised one of the Pygmies in attendance upon the king,
and was conveying him, in spite of a strenuous resistance, straight to
my tent. I looked up, and _there_, sure enough, was the strange little
creature, perched upon Mohammed’s right shoulder, nervously hugging his
head, and casting glances of alarm in every direction. Mohammed soon
deposited him in the seat of honour. A royal interpreter was stationed
at his side. Thus, at last, was I able veritably to feast my eyes upon
a living embodiment of the myths of some thousand years!

[Sidenote: ADIMOKOO THE AKKA.]

Eagerly, and without loss of time, I proceeded to take his portrait.
I pressed him with innumerable questions, but to ask for information
was an easier matter altogether than to get an answer. There was the
greatest difficulty in inducing him to remain at rest, and I could
only succeed by exhibiting a store of presents. Under the impression
that the opportunity before me might not occur again, I bribed the
interpreter to exercise his influence to pacify the little man, to set
him at his ease, and to induce him to lay aside any fear of me that he
might entertain. Altogether we succeeded so well that in a couple of
hours the Pygmy had been measured, sketched, feasted, presented with
a variety of gifts, and subjected to a minute catechism of searching
questions.

His name was Adimokoo. He was the head of a small colony, which was
located about half a league from the royal residence. With his own lips
I heard him assert that the name of his nation was Akka, and I further
learnt that they inhabit large districts to the south of the Monbuttoo
between lat. 2° and 1° N. A portion of them are subject to the
Monbuttoo king, who, desirous of enhancing the splendour of his court
by the addition of any available natural curiosities, had compelled
several families of the Pygmies to settle in the vicinity.

My Niam-niam servants, sentence by sentence, interpreted to me
everything that was said by Adimokoo to the Monbuttoo interpreter, who
was acquainted with no dialects but those of his own land.

In reply to my question put to Adimokoo as to where his country was
situated, pointing towards the S.S.E., he said, “Two days’ journey and
you come to the village of Mummery; on the third day you will reach the
River Nalobe; the fourth day you arrive at the first of the villages of
the Akka.”

“What do you call the rivers of your country?”

“They are the Nalobe, the Namerikoo, and the Eddoopa.”

“Have you any river as large as the Welle?”

“No; ours are small rivers, and they all flow into the Welle.”

“Are you all one people, or are you divided into separate tribes?”

To this inquiry Adimokoo replied by a sudden gesture, as if to indicate
the vastness of their extent, and commenced enumerating the tribes one
after another. “There are the Navapukah, the Navatipeh, the Vabingisso,
the Avadzubeh, the Avagowumba, the Bandoa, the Mamomoo, and the
Agabundah.”

“How many kings?” I asked.

“Nine,” he said; but I could only make out the names of Galeema,
Beddeh, Tindaga, and Mazembe.

My next endeavour was directed to discover whether he was acquainted
in any way with the dwarf races that have been mentioned by previous
travellers, and whose homes I presumed would be somewhere in this part
of Africa. I asked him whether he knew the Malagilagé, who, according
to the testimony of Escayrac de Lauture, live to the south of Baghirmy.
My question, however, only elicited a comical gesture of bewilderment
and a vague inquiry, “What is that?” Nor did I succeed at all better
in securing any recognition of the tribes of the Kenkob or the Betsan,
which are mentioned by Kölle. Equally unavailing, too, were all my
efforts to obtain answers of any precision to the series of questions
which I invented, taking my hints from Petermann and Hassenstein’s map
of Central Africa, so that I was obliged to give up my geographical
inquiries in despair and turn to other topics. But in reality there did
not occur any subject whatever on which I obtained any information that
seems to me to be worth recording. At length, after having submitted
so long to my curious and persistent questionings, the patience of
Adimokoo was thoroughly exhausted, and he made a frantic leap in his
endeavour to escape from the tent. Surrounded, however, by a crowd of
inquisitive Bongo and Nubians, he was unable to effect his purpose, and
was compelled, against his will, to remain for a little longer. After
a time a gentle persuasion was brought to bear, and he was induced to
go through some of the characteristic evolutions of his war-dances. He
was dressed, like the Monbuttoo, in a rokko-coat and plumed hat, and
was armed with a miniature lance as well as with a bow and arrow. His
height I found to be about 4 feet 10 inches, and this I reckon to be
the average measurement of his race.

[Sidenote: THE PYGMY’S WAR-DANCE.]

Although I had repeatedly been astonished at witnessing the war-dances
of the Niam-niam, I confess that my amazement was greater than ever
when I looked upon the exhibition which the Pygmy afforded. In spite
of his large, bloated belly and short bandy legs—in spite of his age,
which, by the way, was considerable—Adimokoo’s agility was perfectly
marvellous, and I could not help wondering whether cranes would ever
be likely to contend with such creatures. The little man’s leaps and
attitudes were accompanied by such lively and grotesque varieties of
expression that the spectators shook again and held their sides with
laughter. The interpreter explained to the Niam-niam that the Akka jump
about in the grass like grasshoppers, and that they are so nimble that
they shoot their arrows into an elephant’s eye and drive their lances
into their bellies. The gestures of the Akka, to which I shall have
occasion again to refer, always reminded me of the pictures given by
travellers to represent the Bushmen of the south.

[Illustration: Bomby the Akka.]

Adimokoo returned home loaded with presents, I made him understand that
I should be glad to see all his people, and promised that they should
lose nothing by coming.

On the following day I had the pleasure of a visit from two of the
younger men. I had the opportunity of sketching their likenesses, and
as one of the portraits has been preserved it is inserted here.

After they had once got over their alarm, some or other of the Akka
came to me almost every day. As exceptional cases, I observed that
some individuals were of a taller stature; but upon investigation I
always ascertained that this was the result of intermarriage with the
Monbuttoo amongst whom they resided. My sudden departure from Munza’s
abode interrupted me completely in my study of this interesting people,
and I was compelled to leave before I had fully mastered the details
of their peculiarities. I regret that I never chanced to see one of
the Akka women, and still more that my visit to their dwellings was
postponed from day to day until the opportunity was lost altogether.

[Sidenote: COLLISION WITH THE AKKA.]

I am not likely to forget a _rencontre_ which I had with several
hundred Akka warriors, and could very heartily wish that the
circumstances had permitted me to give a pictorial representation of
the scene. King Munza’s brother Mummery, who was a kind of viceroy
in the southern section of his dominions, and to whom the Akka were
tributary, was just returning to the court from a successful campaign
against the black Momvoo. Accompanied by a large band of soldiers,
amongst whom was included a corps of Pygmies, he was conveying the bulk
of the booty to his royal master. It happened on the day in question
that I had been making a long excursion with my Niam-niam servants, and
had heard nothing of Mummery’s arrival. Towards sunset I was passing
along the extensive village on my return to my quarters, when, just
as I reached the wide open space in front of the royal halls, I found
myself surrounded by what I conjectured must be a crowd of impudent
boys, who received me with a sort of bravado fight. They pointed their
arrows towards me, and behaved generally in a manner at which I could
not help feeling somewhat irritated, as it betokened unwarrantable
liberty and intentional disrespect. My misapprehension was soon
corrected by the Niam-niam people about me. “They are Tikkitikki,”[33]
said they; “you imagine that they are boys, but in truth they are
men; nay, men that can fight.” At this moment a seasonable greeting
from Mummery drew me off from any apprehension on my part and from
any further contemplation of the remarkable spectacle before me. In
my own mind I resolved that I would minutely inspect the camp of the
new-comers on the following morning; but I had reckoned without my
host: before dawn Mummery and his contingent of Pygmies had taken their
departure, and thus,

“Like the baseless fabric of a vision,”

this people, so near and yet so unattainable, had vanished once more
into the dim obscurity of the innermost continent.

Anxious, in my contact with this mythical race, to lose or pass over
nothing which might be of interest, I very diligently made memoranda
after every interview that I had with the Akka. I measured six
full-grown individuals, none of whom much exceeded 4 feet 10 inches
in height, but, unfortunately, all my notes and many of my drawings
perished in the fire.

A brief account may now be given of the little Pygmy that I carried off
and kept with me during the remainder of my wanderings till I was again
in Nubia, who for a year and a half became my companion, thriving under
my care and growing almost as affectionate as a son.

I have already explained in a previous chapter the circumstances under
which the little man came into my keeping. I succeeded tolerably
well in alleviating the pain of the lad’s parting from all his old
associations by providing him with all the good living and bestowing
upon him all the attention that lay in my power. To reconcile him to
his lot I broke through an old rule. I allowed him to be my constant
companion at my meals—an exception that I never made in favour of any
other native of Africa. Making it my first care that he should be
healthy and contented, I submitted without a murmur to all the uncouth
habits peculiar to his race. In Khartoom at last I dressed him up till
he looked like a little pasha. The Nubians could not in the least
enter into my infatuation, nor account for my partiality towards the
strange-looking lad. When he walked along the thoroughfares at my side
they pointed to him, and cried, with reference to his bright-brown
complexion, “See, there goes the son of the Khavaga!” Apparently they
overlooked the fact of the boy’s age, and seemed not to be in any way
familiarised with the tradition of the Pygmies. In the Seribas all
along our route the little fellow excited a still greater astonishment.

[Sidenote: NSEWUE’S DEATH.]

Notwithstanding all my assiduity and attention, I am sorry to record
that Nsewue died in Berber, from a prolonged attack of dysentery,
originating not so much in any change of climate, or any alteration in
his mode of living, as in his immoderate excess in eating, a propensity
which no influence on my part was sufficient to control.

During the last ten months of his life, my _protégé_ did not make any
growth at all. I think I may therefore presume that his height would
never have exceeded 4 feet 7 inches, which was his measurement at the
time of his death. The portrait on the following page may be accepted
as a faithful representation of one who was a fair type of his race.

Altogether very few examples of the Akka came under my notice; but so
ample was my opportunity of studying in detail the peculiarities of
this individual specimen, that, in the course of any observations that
follow, I shall feel justified in referring to Nsewue, when the rest of
my experience furnishes no other illustration.

[Illustration: Nsewue the Akka.]

[Sidenote: THE OBONGO.]

The Akka would appear to be a branch of that series of dwarf races
which, exhibiting all the characteristics of an aboriginal stock,
extend along the equator entirely across Africa. Whatever travellers
have penetrated far into the interior of the continent have furnished
abundant testimony as to the mere fact of the existence of tribes of
singularly diminutive height; whilst their accounts are nearly all
coincident in representing that these dwarf races differ in hardly
anything from the surrounding nations excepting only in their size. It
would be entirely an error to describe them as dwarfs either in the
sense of the ancient myths, or in the way of _lusus naturæ_, such as
are exhibited as curiosities amongst ourselves; most of the accounts,
moreover, that have been given, concur in the statement that these
undersized people are distinguished from their neighbours by a redder
or brighter shade of complexion; but they differ very considerably in
the reports they make about the growth of the hair. The only traveller,
I believe, before myself that has come into contact with any section
of this race is Du Chaillu, who, in the territory of the Ashango,
discovered a wandering tribe of hunters called Obongo, and took the
measurements of a number of them. He describes these Obongo as “not
ill-shaped,” and as having skins of a pale, yellow-brown, somewhat
lighter than their neighbours; he speaks of their having short heads
of hair, but a great growth of hair about their bodies. Their average
height he affirms to be 4 feet 7 inches. In every particular but
the abundance of hair about the person, this description is quite
applicable to the Akka. According to Battel,[34] there was a nation of
dwarfs, called the Matimbos or Dongo, to the north-east of the land of
Tobbi, which lies to the north of the Sette River, and consequently in
the same district as that in which Du Chaillu discovered the Obongo.
Portuguese authorities, moreover, quite at the beginning of the
seventeenth century, contain a distinct reference to a dwarf nation
called Bakka-bakka. Dapper furnishes corresponding information on
the same subject; and all that he relates about the dwarfs coincides
very accurately with what is known about the Akka, whose name had
penetrated even at that date to the western equatorial coasts. It is to
be understood that districts were known by the name of the people who
chanced to be occupying them, and not by any permanent name of the soil
itself. After Dapper, in his compilation, had told the history of the
Yagas, who is said in olden time to have spread fear and destruction
as far as the coasts of the Loango, a hundred miles away, so that it
took three months for caravans to come and go, he proceeds to state
that the greater part of the ivory was obtained still farther inland,
and was brought from a people who were tributary to the great Makoko,
and called Mimos or Bakke-bakke. “These little men,” he writes,[35]
“are stated by the Yagas to have the power of making themselves
invisible, and consequently can slay an elephant with little trouble.”
And this dexterity in killing elephants seems to be implied in another
place,[36] where, in describing the court of Loango and the dwarfs
who took up their positions before the throne, he says, “the negroes
affirm that there is a wilderness inhabited by those dwarfs, and where
there are many elephants; they are generally called Bakke-bakke, but
sometimes Mimos.” Farther on again[37] he speaks of the empire of the
great Makoko (described as lying beyond the kingdom of Kongo, and some
200 miles or more inland, north of the River Zaire), and proceeds to
specify that “in the wilderness of this country there are to be found
the little people that have been mentioned before, who carry on the
greater part of the ivory trade throughout the kingdom.” Besides this
it is expressly stated that the ivory was bartered for the salt of
Loango. Now in none of the countries that I visited in Central Africa
was either sea salt or common salt ever an article of commerce, but
each separate nation produced its own supply from ashes: but whilst I
was at the court of Munza I learnt from the Khartoomers who had settled
there that, as matter of fact, king Munza did receive tribute from the
Akka in the shape of “_real good salt_,” which was brought from the
far south. Taken in connection with Dapper’s account, this statement
would seem to justify the hypothesis that even at this day there may
be commercial transactions between the very heart of Africa, where the
Akka dwell, and the western coasts.

[Sidenote: THE KENKOB.]

Still more demonstrative than any reports about Matimbos
and Bakke-bakke, as proving the identity of my Akka with the
abnormally-formed folks previously named, is the evidence that is
furnished by the natives of the Upper Shary districts. Escayrac de
Lauture[38] was told of a Lake Koeidabo, which was said to be a two
months’ journey to the S.S.E. of Masena, the capital of Baghirmy, and
to unite the source-affluents of the Shary just at the spot where,
according to the Monbuttoo, the Welle widens into a boundless expanse
of water. Somewhat to the west of this lake, he was informed, were the
dwellings of the Mala-gilageh (literally, men with tails), who were of
small stature and reddish complexion, or, as the Africans expressed
it, “_white_,” and covered with long hair. The fabulous tails must be
supposed to be added by a kind of poetic licence, or as a concession
to the belief in marvellous stories that were rife throughout the
Soudan. It may with much probability be assumed that the same districts
in Central Africa must be the homes of the Kenkob and Betsan, of
whom Kölle,[39] residing in Sierra Leone, heard reports from those
who professed to have actually seen them. In these reports the great
lake was very often referred to. One of Kölle’s informants called it
“Leeba,” and said that he had on one occasion personally accompanied an
embassy that was commissioned to convey a present of salt to the king
who governed over the territories by the shores of the lake; and he
distinctly affirmed not only that the Kenkob lived in close proximity
to the same lake, but that they were a people only three or four feet
in height, but who nevertheless possessed great strength and were
excellent hunters. Another witness informed Kölle that he only knew
of “a river Reeba” in that part of the country; but it is extremely
likely that in reality he was referring to the same Lake Leeba which,
by repeated geographical investigation, has been proved to be a part of
the Shary:[40] he went on to describe that by this river Reeba there
dwelt a diminutive race called Betsan, varying from three feet to five
feet in height, and stated that they had very long hair and very long
beards, adding that they supported themselves entirely by the produce
of the chase.

Both these witnesses agreed in describing the hair of the dwarfs as
long; and I always found that the Niam-niam laid particular stress upon
their having long beards; but I must confess I never observed this
characteristic in any of the Akka who came under my notice.

Nor is east Tropical Africa without its representatives of people of
this stunted growth. Of these I may especially mention the Doko, who
are reported to dwell to the south of Enarea and Kaffa on the Upper
Juba. Krapf, who has with much diligence compared the various accounts
of many slaves who have been carried away from the district in question
to Shoa, fixes the habitation of the Doko as being below the latitude
of 3° north. Their height is compared with that of boys ten years of
age. Even those who have seen them and (like A. d’Abbadie) deny that
they are _dwarfs_, yet admit that they are under a medium stature.
On the coast itself, in Zanzibar and at Brava, where, occasioned by
the Mohammedan Somali, there is a considerable intercourse with the
districts said to be populated by the Doko, stories of these dwarfs
are in every one’s mouth, and they are termed the “Berikeemo,” _i.e._
people two feet high.

[Sidenote: PYGMIES COMPARED WITH BUSHMEN.]

This rapid summary of the dwarf races that are known in Africa would
be incomplete without a passing reference to the Kimos of Madagascar,
of whom, from the middle of the seventeenth century down to our own
time the most contradictory reports have been in circulation. Any
detailed accounts of these would of course be here entirely out of
place. Madagascar, too, from its isolation, must ever be treated
independently. The relation of its inhabitants to the inhabitants of
Central Africa is very doubtful. It will now suffice to say generally
that the evidence appears to lie open before us of there being a series
of unestablished and imperfectly developed nations which, although they
are now in their decline, extend from ocean to ocean across the entire
equatorial zone of Africa.

Scarcely a doubt can exist but that all these people, like the
Bushmen of South Africa, may be considered as the scattered remains
of an aboriginal population now becoming extinct; and their isolated
and sporadic existence bears out the hypothesis. For centuries
after centuries Africa has been experiencing the effects of many
immigrations: for thousands of years one nation has been driving out
another, and as the result of repeated subjugations and interminglings
of race with race, such manifold changes have been introduced into the
conditions of existence that the succession of new phases, like the
development in the world of plants, appears almost as it were to open a
glimpse into the infinite.

Incidentally I have just referred to the Bushmen, those notorious
natives of the South African forests, who owe their name to the
likeness which the Dutch colonists conceived they bore to the ape,
as the prototype of the human race. I may further remark that their
resemblance to the equatorial Pygmies is in many points very striking.
Gustav Fritsch, the author of a standard work upon the natives of
South Africa, first drew my attention to the marked similarity between
my portraits of the Akka and the general type of the Bushmen, and so
satisfied did I become in my own mind that I feel quite justified (in
my observations upon the Akka) in endeavouring to prove that all the
tribes of Africa whose proper characteristic is an abnormally low
stature belong to one and the self-same race.

According to Fritsch the average height of the genuine Bushmen is 1·44
metres, or about 4 feet 8½ inches; the height of the two Akka, whose
portraits I have inserted, were 4 feet 1 inch and 4 feet 4 inches
respectively; and, as I have said, I never saw any instance in which
the height materially exceeded 4 feet 10 inches. The skin of the Akka
is of a dull brown tint, something of the colour of partially roasted
coffee. As far as I can remember, the colour would correspond nearly
with Nos. 7 and 8 in the table of skin-tints in Plate 49 of Fritsch’s
work, and these are the numbers by which he indicates the complexion
of the Bushmen. It is somewhat difficult to discriminate between the
complexion of the Akka and that of their neighbours the Monbuttoo,
since the latter exhibit a variety of shades of the same tint; but I
should be inclined to say that the distinction lies in the somewhat
duller hue of the Akka, such as might be understood by comparing No. 2
with No. 8 in the table to which I have referred.

The hair and beard are but slightly developed. All the Akka that I saw
wore the ordinary costume and cylindrical straw hat of the Monbuttoo;
but, in consequence of their hair being short as well as woolly, they
are unable to form a chignon like their neighbours. The colour of their
hair corresponds with their complexion; in texture it may best be
compared with the waste tow from old cordage. This absence of the beard
is characteristic also of the Bushmen. The Nubians indeed used to tell
me of the dwarfs about the courts of the Niam-niam princes being noted
for long hair, and they affirmed that some of them, in the fashion
of the West Africans, were in the habit of stiffening out their long
pointed tufts of hair on their chin with pitch; no doubt, too, their
common designation for this people (Shebber digintoo) has reference to
this characteristic; but I could never succeed in getting any accurate
or more definite information about dwarfs of this species. The Akka
resemble the majority of the Monbuttoo in having brown hair, other
nations of a reddish tone of complexion not sharing this peculiarity.

[Sidenote: CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AKKA.]

Taking, as I have said, my little _protégé_ Nsewue as a fair type of
the Akka in general, I will proceed to enumerate the most prominent
marks in their common appearance.

The head of the Akka is large, and out of proportion to the weak, thin
neck on which it is balanced. The shape of the shoulders is peculiar,
differing entirely from that of other negroes in a way that may
probably be accounted for by the unusual scope required for the action
of the shoulder-blades; the arms are lanky; and altogether the upper
portion of the body has a measurement disproportionately long. The
superior region of the chest is flat and much contracted, but it widens
out below to support the huge hanging belly, which gives them, however
aged, the remarkable appearance of Arabian or Egyptian children. The
look of the Akka from behind is very singular. Their body seeming then
to form a curve so regular and defined that it is almost like a letter
S; this is probably to be accounted for by an exceptional suppleness in
the lower joints of the spine, since after a full meal the centre of
gravity is shifted, and the curve of the back accordingly becomes more
or less concave. All the various personal traits of the Akka to which
I have thus referred are illustrated very plainly in Fritsch’s work by
the figure (No. 69) which represents an old Bushman.

The joints of the legs are angular and projecting, except that the
knees are plump and round. Unlike other Africans, who ordinarily
walk with their feet straight, the Akka turn them somewhat inward. I
hardly know how to describe their waddling; every step they take is
accompanied by a lurch that seems to affect all their limbs alike; and
Nsewue could never manage to carry a full dish for any distance without
spilling at least a portion of its contents.

Of all their members their hands were undoubtedly the best formed.
These might really be pronounced elegant, although I do not mean that
they were in the least like the long narrow ladies’ hands that are so
lauded in romance, but which Carl Vogt has characterised as appropriate
to the monkey type. Nothing about my poor little favourite ever excited
my admiration to the same degree as his pretty little hands, and so
attentively have I studied every part of his singular form that not
even the smallest detail has escaped my memory.

But all the peculiarities of the race culminate in the shape of the
skull and in the physiognomical character of the head. As matter of
fact, history has not exhibited that any general degeneracy in a nation
has ever been attended by a general decrease in a people’s stature;
but still it is quite possible that the peculiarities I have already
mentioned might originate in some modification of the way of living.
Any attempt, however, to attribute the formation of the skull to the
effects either of circumstance, of food, or of climate must at once be
rejected as inadmissible. The most noticeable points in the structure
of the heads of the Akka is their high degree of _prognathie_. The
two portraits that are given exhibit facial angles of 60° and 66°
respectively. Besides this they are remarkable for the snout-like
projection of the jaw with an unprotruding chin, and for the wide skull
which is almost spherical, and which has a deep indentation at the base
of the nose. These leading resemblances indubitably exist between the
Akka and the Bushmen; and where the general similarity is so great, all
minor discrepancies must sink into insignificance.

All the accounts of the South African Bushmen agree in representing
that their eyes are small and their eyelids contracted. “Their eyes,”
says Lichtenstein, “are small, deeply set, and so compressed as to be
scarcely visible.” Fritsch lays special stress upon this peculiarity of
the Bushmen, but at the same time draws attention to the likeness of
expression between them and the Hottentots, who otherwise differ from
them so widely. Now the Akka, on the other hand, have large eyes, wide
open, so as to give them the bird-like appearance of Azteks; and does
not Bomby’s portrait,[41] I may ask, recall the Azteks who a few years
ago were exhibited in Europe? Amid the multitude of resemblances this
may be said to be the only important difference between the Akka and
the Bushmen, and probably even this may be accounted for as being the
effect either of food or climate, in the same way as the weather-beaten
countenance of the mariner may be attributed to the life of exposure
that he has led.

[Sidenote: COMPARISON OF AKKA WITH BUSHMEN.]

Setting aside, however, this diversity with regard to the eyes, the
heads of the Akka and the Bushmen will be found to present various
points of similarity in other respects. The Akka are distinguished from
all other nations of Central Africa by the huge size of the ear. Now,
however small, in an æsthetic sense, the negroes’ pretensions to any
beauty may ordinarily be supposed to be, it must be conceded that they
can vie with any race whatever in the elegance and symmetrical shape of
their ears; but no share of this grace can be assigned either to the
Bushmen or to the Akka.

The lips project in a way that corresponds completely with the
projecting jaw. They are long and convex; they do not overlap, and
are not so thick as those of the generality of negroes. What really
suggests the resemblance to an ape is the sharply-defined outline of
the gaping mouth; for the pouting lips of most negroes convey no idea
at all of relationship with inferior animals. These gaping lips, again,
are possessed by the Akka in common with the Bushmen, whose profiles
may be seen in the illustrations given by Fritsch; they are not found
at all amongst the Monbuttoo.

The continual changes of expression which, as Lichtenstein observes,
play upon the countenance and render the Bushmen like apes rather than
human beings are exhibited to a very remarkable degree by the Akka.
The twitching of the eyebrows (in this case still more animated by
the brightness of the eyes), the rapid gestures with the hands and
feet while talking, the incessant wagging and nodding of the head,
all combine to give a very grotesque appearance to the little people,
and serve to explain the fund of amusement derived from the visit of
Adimokoo.

Of the language of the Akka I must confess my entire ignorance, having
lost the few notes that I possessed. I remember that I was much struck
by the inarticulateness of the pronunciation. During the year and a
half that my _protégé_ was domesticated with me he was unable to learn
sufficient Arabic to make himself understood; in this respect he was
very different to the other natives about me, who made themselves
masters of a copious vocabulary. He never advanced beyond stammering
out a few Bongo phrases, which no one except myself and a few of my own
people could comprehend.

Although I was informed that circumcision was practised by the Akka, I
could never ascertain whether it was really an indigenous custom, or
whether it was merely borrowed from the Monbuttoo, and so adopted by
such of the Akka as had settled near the court of Munza.

In acuteness, dexterity, and it must be added in cunning, the Akka
far surpass the Monbuttoo. They are κατ' ἐβξοχήν, a nation of
hunters. The cunning, however, which they display is but the outward
expression of an inner impulse which seems to prompt them to find a
delight in wickedness. Nsewue was always fond of torturing animals, and
took a special pleasure in throwing arrows at the dogs by night. During
the period in which we were involved in war, and while my servants were
almost beside themselves with anxiety, nothing afforded him greater
amusement than to play with the heads that had been severed from the
slain A-Banga; and when I boiled some of the skulls his delight knew no
bounds; he rushed about the camp shouting, “Bakinda,[42] nova? Bakinda
he he koto” (Where is Bakinda? Bakinda is in the pot!) Such a people as
this would naturally excel in the inventive faculty for laying traps
and snares for game.

[Sidenote: RELATIONS OF THE AKKA WITH THE MONBUTTOO.]

Like the Obongo and the Bushmen, as I myself experienced during my
first _rencontre_ with Adimokoo, the Akka are extremely shy with other
men.

Their only domestic animals are poultry; and it struck me as a
coincidence somewhat curious that one of the Pompeian mosaics which
I saw in the National Museum at Naples represents the Pygmies in the
midst of their little houses, which are depicted as full of common
fowls.

It is notorious that the natives of South Africa in general have
vowed death and destruction against the Bushmen, reckoning them as
incorrigibly wild and in no way superior to apes of the most dangerous
character. Now the dwarfs of Central Africa, although they fall little
short of the Bushmen in natural maliciousness, are not regarded as
mischievous fiends who must be exterminated like a brood of adders, but
they are considered rather as a sort of benevolent spirits or mandrakes
who are in no way detrimental. They are of assistance to the Monbuttoo
in securing them a more abundant produce from the chase, and so they
enjoy the protection of their neighbours very much in the same way
as (according to Du Chaillu) the Obongo enjoy the protection of the
Ashango. These amicable relations, however, would not be possible but
for the reason that the Monbuttoo possess no herds. If the Monbuttoo
were a cattle-breeding people, it cannot be doubted that the Akka would
consider all their animals as game, and could not deny themselves the
delight of driving their spears into the flanks of every beast they
could get near, and by these tactics would very soon convert their
guardians into enemies.

Munza supplies all the Akka who have settled near him with the best
of diet, and Nsewue was never weary of descanting in praise of the
flasks of beer, the plantain wine, the ears of corn, and all the other
delicacies with which his people were feasted.

I will only add that a debt of gratitude is due from the students
of ethnology to the Monbuttoo king, who has been instrumental in
preserving this remnant of a declining race until the time has come for
the very heart of Africa to be laid open.

[Illustration: Dinka Pipe. (See description, vol. i., p. 292)]

FOOTNOTES:

[29] It may be remarked that the people of the Soudan
when they depict a dwarf, ordinarily, like we should
ourselves, represent him as a diminutive man with a
long beard.

[30] Herodotus, ii. 32.

[31] Aristotle’s ‘Hist. Animal,’ lib. viii. cap. 2.

[32] ‘Speke’s Travels,’ p. 550.

[33] Tikkitikki is the Niam-niam designation of the Akka.

[34] _Vide_ Battel. ‘Purchas his Pilg.,’ II. London, 1625,
p. 983.

[35] Dapper, Germ. ed., Amsterd., p. 571.

[36] Ib., p. 527.

[37] Ib., p. 573.

[38] ‘Bulletin de la Soc. de Géograph. de Paris,’ tom. x.,
1855.

[39] ‘Polyglotta Africana,’ p. 12.

[40] In nearly all the negro dialects the letters _l_ and
_r_ are used indifferently; and Africans, as a rule,
very much confound the ideas of lake and river.

[41] _Vide antè_, p. 130.

[42] “Bakinda,” is a mere derisive nickname.

CHAPTER XVII.

Return to the North. Tikkitikki’s reluctance to start. Passage of
the Gadda. Sounding the Keebaly. The river Kahpily. Cataracts of
the Keebaly. Kubby’s refusal of boats. Our impatience. Crowds
of hippopotamuses. Possibility of fording the river. Origin and
connection of the Keebaly. Division of highland and lowland.
Geographical expressions of Arabs and Nubians. Mohammedan
perversions. Return to Nembey. Bivouac in the border-wilderness.
Eating wax. The Niam-niam declare war. Parley with the enemy.
My mistrust of the guides. Treacherous attack on Mohammed.
Mohammed’s dangerous wound. Open war. Detruncated heads. Effect
of arrows. Mohammed’s defiance. Attack on the abattis. Pursuit
of the enemy. Inexplicable appearance of 10,000 men. Wando’s
unpropitious omen. My Niam-niam and their oracle. Mohammed’s
speedy cure. Solar phenomenon. Dogs barbarously speared. Women
captured. Niam-niam affection for their wives. Calamus. Upper
course of the Mbrwole. Fresh captive. Her composure. Alteration
in scenery. Arrival at the Nabambisso.

After a sojourn of three weeks, the 12th of April was fixed for the
raising of our camp and for the departure of our caravan from the
residence of the Monbuttoo king.

For myself it was with a sad and heavy heart that I had to begin
retracing my steps towards the north. How bitter was my disappointment
may well be imagined. I could not be otherwise than aware that I was
leaving behind my only chance of answering some of those important
questions that might be propounded to me; and my regret was aggravated
by the conviction that a journey comparatively short would now have
brought me to the sources of the three great rivers of the west, the
only streams that are absolutely closed to our geographical knowledge,
viz, the Benwe, the Ogawai, and the Congo. Distant as I was hardly more
than 450 miles from the limit that had been reached by Livingstone,
I could discern, as I fondly imagined, from Munza’s residence, a path
clearly open towards the south-west which would conduct me to the Congo
and to the states of the mighty Mwata Yanvo; it appeared to me to be
a path that, once explored, would solve the remaining problems of the
heart of Africa as decidedly as the sword of Alexander severed the
Gordian knot, and now, just when there was only one more district to
be traversed and that not larger than what we had already passed since
leaving the Gazelle, to be obliged to abandon further progress and to
leave the mysterious secrets still unravelled was a hardship to which
it was impossible patiently to submit. But there was no alternative,
and, however reluctantly, I had to yield.

I have already spoken of the various obstacles to any further advance;
I must, however, again insist upon my conviction that any single
traveller, provided he had not an undue proportion of flesh (for to be
fat would be fatal), might march on unhindered down the Welle as far as
Baghirmy, since the population was all well disposed enough as far as
regards the white man. But any attempt to carry on an entire caravan
in that direction would have met with the most strenuous opposition
on the part of King Munza; his indirect influence might have enabled
travellers to descend as far to the south as lat. 2° N.; but for this
his sanction would have had to be purchased by an enormous contribution
of copper.

The first event of the morning of our start occasioned no small stir
amongst the Nubians. Mohammed Aboo Sammat had established a Seriba
in the place, for the garrisoning of which twenty-eight men had
to be left behind, and several hours elapsed before the necessary
conscription could be accomplished. Apart from myself, depressed as I
was by my disappointment, every one else was elated at the prospect
of returning, so that no penalty could be considered much heavier
than being compelled to tarry in this remote region for one or two
years, and possibly longer, to be the associates of cannibals; each
man accordingly upon whom the unlucky destiny chanced to fall received
his orders to remain with the loudest murmurs of dissatisfaction, and
the outcry and contention threatened to be interminable. At length,
by cajoling, by bribing, by promises of ample pay, and, it must be
added, by the representation of the lives of frolic they would lead
with the Monbuttoo women, the malcontents were persuaded unwillingly to
acquiesce in their fate.

It was noon before the column was actually in motion. The Nubians
parted from their companions with the most touching embraces; the
crowds of chattering Monbuttoo surrounded the encampment and watched
with vivid interest the thousand gestures of farewell, whilst the
negro-bearers, silent and stolid as ever, set forward on their way.

[Sidenote: TIKKITIKKI’S FAREWELL.]

During this parting scene my little Tikkitikki (as the Niam-niam
called the Pygmy who had been presented to me a few days previously)
was seized with an apparent fit of home sickness; he set up such a
dismal howling and sobbed so bitterly that I confess I was for a while
undecided whether I would really carry him away, but I soon discovered
that it was only the uninitiated who could be imposed upon by his
behavior. He was not bewailing the loss of his home, for he was utterly
ignorant as to where that home had been; neither was he deploring his
separation from his kinsfolk, for they stood by, gesticulating wildly,
and only mocked at his distress. The fact was, he was influenced solely
by his dread of strangers. He was in mortal fear of being eaten up. It
very rarely happens among the Monbuttoo that natives are surrendered to
the Nubians for slaves: the occasion therefore of a present being made
of a human creature would only too readily suggest the thought that
some ulterior destination for cannibal purposes was in view. Altogether
inadequate to appease Tikkitikki’s fears as to his approaching fate
was the gorgeous silk jacket in which I arrayed him, and it was with no
little satisfaction that I found I could pacify him by offering him the
choicest morsels that I could procure for him to eat. After spending a
few days with me in my tent, and finding himself treated with all the
dainties that the country could produce, he forgot his troubles, laid
aside his apprehensions, and became as happy as a little prince.

From the splendid thickets upon the banks of the rivulets which
streamed across our path I gathered all the specimens I could of the
flora of this distant land, and all along our return journey I lost no
available opportunity of contributing any novelty to my botanical store.

For about five miles we followed the route by which we had arrived,
proceeding in a north-easterly direction until we reached the mounds
of gneiss that lay before the third stream. Making a little _détour_
to the left I mounted the eminences, which were crowned with some
fine fig-trees, whence I could watch our long caravan winding amongst
the plantain-groves; now and then my view of the _cortège_ would be
obstructed by some rising oil-palms, and finally the train would
disappear in the obscurity of the gallery-forest. The streams were
now much swollen, and their passage entailed not only a considerable
loss of time but some trial of strength. The paths were so narrow that
we were compelled to proceed in single file, not unfrequently being
obliged to halt in places where the shadows of the forest were far too
light to afford us any protection from the raging heat. Upon these
occasions I found a draught from a calabash of plantain-wine very
refreshing. Every now and then I had recourse to a pipe. Altogether,
however, in spite of its inconveniences the journey was through scenery
so charming that it could not be otherwise than enjoyable.

After crossing the third brook we made a turn to the right, thus
entering upon a way that was new to us. Having traversed an open
steppe along the edge of a gallery extending to the north-east,
we encamped at nightfall at a farmstead near the river Gadda.
Half-an-hour’s march in the morning brought us to the river bank.

[Sidenote: THE GADDA.]

In its dimensions the Gadda resembles the Wow just above its junction
with the Dyoor, but it does not exhibit the same periodical changes in
the volume of its waters; its bed remains fall throughout the year, and
at this date (April 13th) I found that it was 155 feet wide and but
3 feet deep, its velocity being 57 feet in a minute. The banks were
bounded by light woods, and the soil not being subject to any further
inundations had only a gentle slope; the floodmarks on the shore proved
the difference between the highest and lowest conditions of the river
to be 20 feet. The Gadda has its source far to the south-east, and,
flowing across the dominions of the Monbuttoo king Degberra, joins the
Keebaly: the united streams then receive the name of the Welle.

Without unnecessary loss of time we forded the sandy river-bed, and,
continuing our march for about another half hour, arrived at the left
bank of the Keebaly. The river here exhibited much the same character
as the Welle at the spot where we had forded it upon our outward
journey, but I presume it was somewhat narrower, as by trigonometrical
measurement I found that its width was only 325 feet.

By the orders of the king boats were in readiness to convey the caravan
across, and the ferrymen did their work so well and quickly that the
entire passage was accomplished in three hours. While the transit was
being effected I took the opportunity of embarking in a canoe for
the purpose of estimating the depth and velocity of the stream, an
operation in which I was materially assisted by the greater experience
of my servant Mohammed Ameen. In the same way as I noticed on the
Welle, the current was much stronger on the northern or right shore;
by throwing a gourd upon the flood and observing the number of feet
it progressed in a minute, I estimated the ratio of the currents upon
the opposite banks to be as 15:19. The depth was between 12 and 13
feet, and there were neither rocks nor sand-banks in this part of the
river-bed.

As I stood in the long grass superintending the stowage of the baggage,
I was very considerably inconvenienced by the inquisitiveness of the
natives, who persisted in thronging close around. In order to get free
from their intrusion I was glad to resort to all kinds of artifices,
such as throwing some lighted touchwood amongst them, and treating
them to a few cartridges. After the last bearer had started and they
observed that I still continued to paddle up and down the stream, their
curiosity knew no bounds. Trusting to the superiority of our firearms
and the protection of my own servants, I felt perfectly secure and
enjoyed the bewildered surprise with which the natives who crowded
the banks surveyed our evolutions. The dexterous swimming and diving
of my Nubians excited the liveliest interest, and every time the
sounding-lead was dipped it was watched as eagerly as if it were about
to draw forth from the deep some treasure of the Nibelungen.

Northward again. We passed the farmsteads of the local overseer
Parra, crossed the brook Mboolah, and pitched our camp at a hamlet
but a few miles from the stream. The remainder of the day I spent in
botanizing. I made my way into the thickets, and found some splendid
representatives of such large-leaved plants as the philodendra,
calladia, and marantha, which gleamed with a metallic sheen. The
overseer was very liberal: he supplied us freely with beer, and the
greater part of the night was spent in friendly intercourse with the
natives, who found, as ever, my hair and my lucifers to be an unfailing
source of interest. Myself the people designated as “a good man,” and,
satisfied that I had come from the skies, they interpreted my arrival
as a token of peace and happiness.

[Sidenote: BONGWA.]

Our road on the following day lay through a country that was generally
open, and we had no stream to cross until we reached the brook Bumba,
near the village of Bongwa. Here we regained our former route. The
country was perfectly safe, and I was accordingly able to march with
my own people in the rear of the caravan, and devote my attention to
my botanical researches. The hamlets that we passed were pleasant
resting-places, and as we halted under the welcome shade of the
foliage, the natives rarely failed to hasten out and bring fresh
plantains for our refreshment.

At Bongwa we made a halt for a whole day, for the purpose of giving the
smiths an opportunity of working, as it was necessary for our copper
bars to be transformed into some thousands of rings. For my own part
I found ample employment in sketching, and in adding what I could to
my store of curiosities. The victualling of the caravan, moreover, had
become a matter of increased difficulty; it was now the season for
planting out, and all the roots and tubers which the natives had spared
from the preceding year had just been put into the ground, so that
there was a general scarcity of provisions; a fact that was brought
home to our own experience, when we found that the yams that were
supplied to us had already commenced throwing out their fresh sprouts.

Retracing our former track we crossed by fording the six approximate
streams that it may be remembered I noticed on our advance. On our
arrival at Nembey’s residence, we at once found shelter in the
camp-huts that had been erected at our last visit, and which were
still in a very fair state of preservation. I took a long ramble and
made a careful inspection of the plantations of sugar-cane in the
adjoining wildernesses upon the river-banks; my first impression was
that the canes were a rank spontaneous growth, but I was distinctly and
repeatedly assured that they were nowhere, by any chance, found wild,
and would not thrive without the aid of man.

Wando’s territory was before us. It now became a matter of serious
consideration how our progress across that hostile district should
be accomplished. Mohammed’s first suggestion was that we should take
a circuitous route far to the east, and then that he should himself
return with his armed forces strengthened by a complement from his
head Seriba on the Nabambisso, and thus proceed to rescue the store
of ivory that had been entrusted to Wando’s care. To this scheme no
doubt there were various objections. The new route would be entirely
unknown to the Nubians, and as, beyond a question, it would lead
across wildernesses utterly void of any population, the caravan would
necessarily have to endure no small measure of privation. In any case
trustworthy guides would be necessary in order that the caravan might
arrive at its destination in any seasonable time. Notwithstanding all
difficulties, Mohammed resolved to attempt to penetrate to the eastern
Monbuttoo country, although for this purpose we should be obliged to
recross the Keebaly. Nembey was tributary to Degberra, the king of
the eastern Monbuttoo, and it had been necessary for Mohammed thus to
proceed in the first place to his village; the fact being that the
enmity between Munza and Degberra was so bitter that there was no
possibility of passing _directly_ from the territory of one to that of
the other. We started accordingly, and the whole train having crossed
the brook Kussumbo, we turned to the south-east along an open steppe,
and proceeded for about half a league until we reached a deep hollow
from which there issued one of the smaller tributaries of the Kussumbo.
This hollow was formed by one of the landslips so common in this
part of Africa, caused by the gradual washing away from below of the
ferruginous swamp-ore, which was here at least 50 feet thick. The depth
of the defile itself was about 80 feet; its sides were enveloped in
dense bushes, and the masses of rock which were quite homogeneous were
adorned with a covering of hitherto unknown fern of the genus adiantum,
which, in spots like this, clothes the reeking stones with a complete
down of feathery fronds.

[Sidenote: THE KAHPILY.]

Another half league across the steppe and I was surprised to find that
we were on the banks of a copious river that about eight miles to the
south-west joined the Keebaly. Astonished at the sight of the rushing
waters I turned to my Monbuttoo guide, and, availing myself of the few
words in his dialect with which I was familiar, I asked him “_Na eggu
rukodassi?_” (What do you call that river?) From his reply I discovered
that it was the Kahpily, not the Keebaly. The similar sound of the
names of these two collateral streams warned me afresh how carefully
the traveller should render the names of rivers which he hears; time
passes on and the names of places are changed with their chiefs, but
the names of their rivers are handed on by the Africans from generation
to generation as long as their language and nationality remain
unaltered;[43] only where these change do the names of the rivers fall
into oblivion. The Kahpily has a rapid current from north-east to
south-west; its depth here was only 4 feet, but its bed, 40 feet in
width, and its steep rocky walls, 40 feet in height, demonstrated that
this important stream must be subject to a considerable increase in its
volume. In my own mind I was convinced that all these rivers, meeting
within so limited an area, must have their sources in some mountain
region at no great distance, little as the aspect of the surrounding
country seemed to warrant the supposition. It was evident to my mind
that the Kahpily must rise near the source-streams of the Dyoor, and
from a mountain-chain extending to the south-east from Baginze, a
district which would appear to be the nucleus of a whole series of
source-streams that flow thence to the north and west.

While the caravan was being carefully conducted across the river by
means of an immense stem of a tree that stretched over from bank to
bank, I enjoyed a refreshing bath in the foaming waters. Proceeding
next in the direction of E.S.E., we passed over a level steppe. As we
approached the river that next intercepted us we found that we were
on the recent track of a lion; the vestiges in the red clay were all
so well-defined that the natives, with their keen hunting instinct,
pronounced without hesitation that they had been made by an aged male.
The steppes extend for a long distance along the right bank of the
Keebaly without being relieved by human habitations, and the district
naturally abounds with game. Herds of leucotis antelopes animated
the plain and tempted me to devote an hour to the chase. Drenched
with perspiration, almost as if I were in the tumult of a battle, and
aimlessly following the impulse of the moment, I pushed my way through
the tall savannah-grass. Hunting in Africa may be fairly described
to be one continual whirl and scramble; the very abundance of game
confuses the vision; one object of attraction rises rapidly after
another, and baffles any attempt at deliberation. After considerable
perseverance I succeeded in bringing down a buck antelope, much to the
astonishment of the natives, who were watching my movements from the
road, and persisted to the last in questioning the efficiency of my
firearms. I hit a second antelope, but did not kill it. It was pursued
by the natives for many miles, and only just before sunset did they
succeed in surrounding it so that they could despatch it by means of
their lances. In the middle of the night I was called up, and naturally
supposed that something serious had transpired, but I soon discovered
that the reason why my rest had been disturbed was merely that I might
be shown the mark of my bullet in the animal’s thigh. The men insisted
upon my feeling the depth of the wound with my finger, and seemed
unable to comprehend that they were showing me nothing that was new.

[Sidenote: THE TRUMPET-TREE.]

A little rivulet, called the Kambeley, wound down a hollow incline of
which the sides were indented with many a vale of different level.
The sides of the hollow were covered for a considerable height with
a tangled jungle from which the great leaves of the trumpet-tree
(_Cecropia_) rose like brilliant fans; and interwoven amongst its
thickets there was a new species of palm, something akin to the rotang,
of which every leaf terminated in a long spray, armed with prickles,
like a pike-hook. From this palm the Monbuttoo cut canes as thick as
their arms, which are reputed to be so difficult to break that they are
not unfrequently used as a criterion in testing strength. Above the
primeval wood the narrow valley was crowned with a number of small and
graceful huts. Altogether the spot was so romantic and wild, and yet
withal it had an air of so much snug and cosy comfort, that it seemed
to entice one to choose it for his home.

At this point our caravan was joined by a party of people sent by
Kubby, one of Degberra’s sub-chieftains, from beyond the Keebaly, to
open ivory transactions with Mohammed, a circumstance that boded us no
good, and forbade us from being in any way sanguine of a hospitable
reception from Kubby. This half-way meeting was only a blind; it was
a pretext to prevent us from alleging that his subsequent refusal to
allow us to cross the river was actuated by any hostile motive. An
African chief always likes to have a loophole as long as it is doubtful
whether peace is preferable to war.

The ground, with its continual indentations, slanted gradually
downwards as we approached the great river. Several ravines and clefts
with their flowing source-springs had to be traversed before we reached
the river bank, and even then, with the roar of the cataract close
beside us, we were obliged to trace and retrace our steps up and down
the shore before we could find a suitable place for an encampment.

At this date (April 18th) the Keebaly filled a bed more than 1200 feet
in width. The main current followed the left or southern shore, along
which a great bank of gneiss lay exposed, now stretched out in wide
flats, and now piled up in countless fragments like huge lumps of ice.
The extreme height of this bank never exceeded fifty feet, while the
northern bank, on which we had our station, was covered with the most
splendid forest and rose to a height of at least a hundred feet. Higher
up, the stream was parted into numerous channels, and amidst these
was a profusion of woody islands, against which the foaming waters
broke, throwing the sparkle of their spray into the darkness of the
thicket.[44] The channels appeared to be all quite navigable, although
the sound of the rapids could be distinctly heard. “Kissingah” is the
general name by which these rapids are distinguished; but the Monbuttoo
are accustomed simply to refer to them as “the islands.” We could
observe the conical roofs of the fishing-huts peeping out from amidst
the foliage, and noticed the canoes of the unfriendly natives darting
rapidly across from one islet to another. Not one, however, of these
fishing-boats came near us; nor was there the least indication of the
coming of any of Kubby’s messengers to assist us in our passage across
the stream. We became aware only too soon of a resolution to obstruct
our progress, the cause of which was readily to be explained.
Poncet’s (subsequently Ghattas’s) company had a Seriba in Kubby’s
district, and the Nubians who had been left in charge had succeeded
in inducing the chief to refuse us the assistance of his boats, for
no other reason whatever than that they feared Mohammed’s competition
with themselves, and that they were eager to monopolize the entire
ivory-trade of the district.

[Illustration: VIEW ON THE KEEBALY, NEAR KUBBY.]

For the next day we waited on. No boats arrived. This waste of time
suited the plans neither of Mohammed nor of myself. Our provisions,
moreover, were getting low. There was no prospect of revictualling.
Accordingly our resolution was taken: without delay we would return to
Nembey.

[Sidenote: THE KEEBALY.]

During the day of indecision, I exerted myself as best I could to
explore the wildernesses of the Keebaly. My attention was chiefly
attracted by a fragrant crinum, in shape and size resembling a white
lily. The diversity of the trees seemed almost endless, and I was
especially amazed at the variety of the anonaceæ and fig-trees, of
which I found little short of forty species.

An infallible proof of the size and copiousness of the river was
afforded by the number of hippopotamuses that were floundering about. I
amused myself by clambering along the smooth rocks that projected into
the water, and testing my bullets on the hides of the unwieldy brutes;
having an ample store of ammunition, for which there did not seem to
be much demand in the way of regular hunting, I fired away over the
surface of the water, for the hour together. My sport created a vivid
sensation amongst the natives upon the opposite bank, for although they
had the prudence to keep carefully out of sight, they could not resist
surreptitiously spying at our camp from behind their bushes; they
manifested their surprise at the enormous range covered by my rifles,
being acquainted only with the guns of the Nubians, the best of which
could not carry half the distance.

The waters of the Keebaly have the repute of affording a home to a
very remarkable animal that has never been observed in any of the
streams that rise from the Nile basin. The Nubians, who have a habit of
calling anything with which they are not familiar by whatever name may
come uppermost at the moment, have given this animal the designation
of a “Kharoof-el-bahr,” or river-sheep; they describe it in such a
way that there can be little doubt that it is a manatus or lamantin
(probably M. Vogellii), which is so frequently found in the rivers of
Western Africa that flow into the Atlantic. My short and unsettled
sojourn on the Keebaly prohibited me from securing, out of these
tropical source-streams, a specimen of this strange representative of
the Sirenia family.

I am perfectly certain that if Mohammed had pleased he could have
forced his way across the river. The dexterous Nubians had but to swim
over with their guns upon their heads, and they could readily have
taken possession of the canoes which, too large and cumbrous to be
transported by land, were concealed in the thickets upon the opposite
shore. I merely mention this to illustrate my opinion that, with a
company of Nubians, the great African rivers in themselves offer no
insuperable obstacles to a resolute traveller.

As already affirmed, the Keebaly is to be considered as the main
stream of the river that, in its lower course, is known as the Welle.
Before quitting it we may do well to give our brief attention to the
geographical questions that are associated with this discovery.

In the accounts collected from his agents, and published by Poncet,
the river is called the Boora or Baboora;[45] but as I never heard
this name, I can only surmise that Poncet’s informants had somehow
misunderstood or misinterpreted the regular name Keebaly or Keebary.
In the same way I never heard anything of a king mentioned under the
name of Kagooma, or of a tribe called the Onguroo. The Nubians seem
never to recollect the native names of rivers, and invariably pronounce
all names whatever most incorrectly; the information derived from that
quarter is of little value to the geographer, and it is very much to
be regretted that the most travelled and experienced leaders of the
Khartoom expeditions should have failed so much in acquiring definite
details; had it been otherwise, their knowledge would have been of
great assistance in laying down more complete and accurate maps of the
country.

The probability that the Keebaly and the Welle are identical with the
upper course of the Shary appears to become at once almost a positive
certainty when we ask the counter-question, “If this is not the Shary,
whence does the Shary come?” All that we know and all that we do not
know about the north and north-western districts conspire to satisfy
us that in that direction there is neither a sufficient reservoir, nor
an adequate space, for the development of a network of streams large
enough to form a river which is half a mile broad at its mouth, and
which fills a lake as large as the whole of Belgium. The waters of the
Welle, however, do not rise till April, while the Shary occasionally
rises in March. In order to explain this earlier rising of the lower
river, we seem to be compelled to adopt the supposition that there
must be some _second_ main stream which issues from a latitude more
southerly than the Keebaly. Quite insignificant are the two affluents,
the Nalobey and the Nomayo, which the river receives on the left from
the south of Munza’s territory.

There can be little doubt about the real origin of the Keebaly.
Although, as delineated on my map, the river has a position as though
it issued directly from the north-west angle of the Mwootan Lake
(Albert Nyanza), nothing was more remote from my intention than to jump
to such a precipitate conclusion; there was nothing either in the
nature of the river and its tributaries, or in the information received
from the various natives, which could, in any way, justify such a
hypothesis. On the contrary, I am quite convinced of the correctness of
Baker’s statement. I entirely concur with his view that Lake Mwootan
is the great basin of the Nile, and that the Bahr-el-Gebel is its
only outlet. That Lake Mwootan, simply on account of its abundance of
water, must necessarily have _several_ outlets, and that the Ayi (the
river which Baker calls the Yè) is one of those outlets, is only a
geographical chimera which, in the Old World at least, has no analogy,
and which would only be admitted to the theories of _dilettanti_.
According to Baker’s measurement Lake Mwootan (Albert Nyanza) is
2720 feet above the level of the sea. But by comparing the rapids of
the Keebaly with the height of Munza’s residence (2707 feet), which
has been verified by the most rigid scientific appliances, I have
ascertained that they are almost on the same level as the lake. The
river and the lake being thus at the same altitude constitutes decisive
evidence that the Keebaly does not issue from the lake, from which it
is distant about 170 miles.

All the rivers that were embraced within the compass of my journey
appeared to me to have their source in the spur of the Galla-Abyssinian
highlands, through which the Bahr-el-Gebel passes in the Madi country.
Those which belong to the Nile system would seem to spring from the
mountains of Koshi on the north of Lake Mwootan, whilst those which
are tributary to the Shary have their source in what Baker designates
the Blue Mountains, which he observed to the north-west of the lake.
Including the Mfumbiro group on the north of Lake Tanganyika—that
group which under Speke’s name of “the Mountains of the Moon,” has
obtained a certain geographical notoriety—this mountain system
apparently forms a section of that conspicuous terrace-chain which
(with the only exceptions of the Niger source-territory and the lofty
isolated coast ranges by the equator) divides the continent of Africa,
not according to the prevailing idea into a northern and southern,
but into an eastward and westward half of highland and lowland. The
highland embraces a large number of inland lakes, some of which allow
their waters to escape most diffusely, whilst others appear to have no
outlet at all. Many of these lakes are found close to the western ridge
of the high ground. Besides the Keebaly, the Lualaba amongst other
rivers may be named as forcing its way through the mountains of Rua,
and apparently flowing in a westerly direction towards the lowland. If
we imagine a prolonged line to cut the entire continent from Massowa to
Mossamedes, it would coincide almost precisely with the terrace-chain
of which I have spoken; it would answer very much to a corresponding
line of division between the highlands and lowlands of South America
which, like an Africa turned right over, has its coast-chain on the
western side.

Nurtured as I had been upon the banks of the Düna, my earliest memories
were associated with the aspect of a majestic river with its foaming
waves, and it was consequently with no ordinary pleasure that I gazed
upon this stream which hitherto no white man had ever beheld. I retain
the most vivid recollection of the last evening that I spent upon the
banks of the Keebaly, when both time and place contributed to provoke
a geographical discussion. The Nubians are always ready to talk about
rivers. They will enlarge freely upon their source, their aspect, and
their connection; but, carried away by their imagination, they never
fail to represent their own incomparable Nile as _par excellence_ the
river of rivers, the very spring and reservoir of all the goodliest
waters of the earth. A compendium of all their geographical delusions
would form an interesting study, and might furnish a key to many
antiquated traditions. It is well known that the Nubians and Arabians
always give the name of “island” to the projecting point of land
which lies at the confluence of any two rivers; thus Sennaar would be
described as the “island” between the White and the Blue Nile; and it
was in the same sense that the ancients applied the name to Meroë, the
land between the Nile and the Atbara. It is a matter of remark again
that the Nubians are accustomed to invert, as it were, the upward and
downward courses of a stream, and to describe the confluence of two
rivers as the separation of the main stream into two branches. This
habit may possibly account for the frequent mention of “arms” in all
their descriptions of their rivers: it is in accordance moreover with
the practice of the ancients, who referred to the junction of the
White and Blue Nile at Khartoom as a partition of the entire stream,
“_ubi Nilus iterum bifurcus_;” a notion probably only derived from the
habitual expressions of the natives which would thus appear to have
remained unaltered for many centuries.

[Sidenote: NUBIAN INCONSISTENCY.]

A corresponding difference between the Nubian mode of expression
and our own is observable in all their allusions to the motions of
rivers, and they would speak, for example, of the Nile as going
_towards_, and not as descending _from_ the mountains. On the bank
of the Keebaly I sat discussing the topic of river-systems with
Mohammed Aboo Sammat and his people; but as we argued over the many
hydrographical problems that were yet unsolved I detected him in the
most flagrant contradictions. At length, losing my patience, I desired
him to show me with his hand which way he supposed the Keebaly to
flow; the whole party simultaneously motioned towards the east, and
turning to the west declared that that was the direction from which
the river came. Startled from my composure, I rated them soundly upon
their inconsistencies. “Why, you Mussulmen,” I said, “twist and turn
everything upside down. We can comprehend you in nothing. What is sin
with us is righteousness with you. The day you call night.[46] In
your Ramadan, _you_ fast during the daytime; _we_ do all our fasting
at night. Go to a strange place and you expect the people to be the
first to visit you. Go to a feast and you take the place of the host,
and treat the servants to their beer. Your bridegrooms, too, you make
them pay for their brides instead of taking them with a dowry of their
own. You talk of what is ‘pure and impure;’ but for yourselves you are
always dirty. Your names for colour are contradictions; ‘akhdar’ is
green and grey; ‘azrak’ is both blue and black. You call your drums
trumpets;[47] and your trumpets drums.[48] In bed you wrap up your
heads and leave your feet uncovered. To tell the truth, I could go on
and enumerate a hundred of your vagaries, and I can only wonder that
you do not stand on your heads and eat with your feet.” The incredible
confusion in the ideas of this people involves the traveller in
continual tedious explanations. Speke[49] complains in the same way
about the geographical blunders of his retinue.

We made our way back to Nembey by the same route that we had come.
Before regaining the place we very narrowly escaped coming into
collision with the inhabitants of some hamlets through which we passed.
The entire caravan for some days past had been placed upon reduced
rations, and when some of the bearers caught sight of the manioc roots
that had been planted close to the dwellings, the temptation of pulling
them up was too great to be resisted. The women were highly indignant,
assailed the offenders lustily, and shrieked at them with the loudest
imprecations. The caravan came to a standstill. As those in the rear
never knew what was happening in front, Mohammed, attended by his
bodyguard, hurried up to inquire into the cause of the disturbance.
Having ascertained the circumstances, he came to the resolution
that it would be his best policy to make an example of the thieves.
Accordingly he gave his instructions, and the delinquents received a
sound thrashing with the kurbatch, while the injured women looked on
with mingled satisfaction and derision.

On arriving at Nembey we found our grass camp-huts in flames, the
inhabitants having set fire to them as a token of their sense of having
had enough of our company. They had evidently no wish for us to tarry
among them any longer. Without halting, therefore, we continued our
march, recrossed the Kussumbo, and, towards dark, reached the last of
the villages before the frontier wilderness, where I and my people
found comfortable accommodation in a large shed belonging to the local
chief. We were here informed that Wando was bent upon our destruction,
the entire population of the frontier being already in arms, and the
women and children having been removed to a place of safety.

Mohammed by this time had been driven, however unwillingly, to the
conclusion that he had neither competent guides nor adequate provisions
to enable him to carry out his original project of avoiding the enemy’s
territory by taking a circuitous route to the east. There was no
alternative for us except to continue our old road over the wilderness
that bounded the frontier. Meanwhile, repeated showers of rain had
fallen, and had contributed very much to the difficulty of crossing
the swamps by making them unusually humid. So much time was occupied
in conveying the caravan across the brook that bounded the Monbuttoo
district that I had leisure to make a sketch of the gallery-forest,
which, however, very inadequately represents the splendour of its
luxuriance.[50]

[Illustration: A GALLERY-FOREST.]

The sun was still high when we made our first camp in the wilderness.
We were upon the third of the gallery-brooks. Since our former visit
new blossoms had unfolded themselves, and seemed to give a fresh aspect
to the scene. In every quarter of the thickets, gleaming like torches,
there rose the imposing clusters of the combretum, with its large
bright-red bracteæ; and, as if to rival them in splendour, every branch
of the spathodea put forth a _thyrsus_ of large orange-coloured balls.

[Sidenote: AFRICAN BEESWAX.]

In the midst of my enjoyment, as I was admiring the beauties all
around me, I was startled by a cry, like a shout of triumph, that
came from a party of our negroes who were scouring the woods in the
hope of securing something good to eat. I hurried in the direction of
the sound, and found the men all clustered round the stem of a tree,
to which they were busily applying firebrands. Having discovered a
quantity of honey in a hollow tree, they adopted the most effectual
measures to secure their treasure, and very soon the honey, the wax,
and the very bodies of the bees themselves were indiscriminately
devoured. If any one could persuade the inhabitants of Central Africa
to desist from their habit of consuming this wax, he would do no small
service towards accelerating the civilization of the continent. At
present, with the exception of ivory, no article of traffic from these
districts repays its transport: but the inexhaustible supply of wax
from these districts might be made the object of a productive trade.
Hitherto Abyssinia and Benguela have been the only countries that have
supplied any considerable quantities of this valuable product; yet the
demand for real beeswax in the lands alone that are subject to the
orthodox Greek Church, where it is the only material allowed for church
lights, is almost unbounded.

The ruins of the grass-huts beside the broad meadow-water brought back
to our recollection the melancholy night of rain which we had to endure
upon our outward journey. The spot was, if possible, more miserable and
dejected now. Neither leaves nor grass could be obtained in sufficient
quantity for our need. Trees had to be felled to make a path across the
swamp, and even then, go carefully as we would, the mud was much above
our knees. If the enemy had been sagacious enough to attack us under
those adverse circumstances, we should have fallen an easy prey.

In another two days we should pass the enemy’s border. The very
expectation seemed to awaken our impatience, and we started off at
early dawn. Already we could trace the footprints of our antagonists’
outposts, who had been seen some distance along the road to watch
for our approach. Towards noon we came to the official declaration
of war, consisting, as I have previously described, of the maize,
the feather, and the arrow, hung across our path, as the emblems of
defiance. There was something of the anxiety of suspense as we found
ourselves at the partition brook which marked off Wando’s territory.
Aware of the danger of venturing rashly into the pathless thickets, our
cautious leader ordered a general halt. Small detachments were first
despatched to reconnoitre and to clear the way. As soon as they had
satisfied themselves that all was safe, the signal was given by the
trumpets, and the column of bearers was set in motion. The crowd of
women were not permitted to march as usual in single file, but for the
sake of compactness were gathered in a mass and strode on, trampling
down whatever vegetation came in their way; the chaos of confusion was
indescribable; the shrill chatter of their voices mingled harshly with
the clatter of their pots and pans; while above all rose the bellowing
of the orders and the louder volley of the oaths of the Nubians, who
marched on with their guns in one hand, but making good use of their
rods and kurbatches with the other.

[Sidenote: A PARLEY.]

Safely through the wood, we reached an open steppe. We were in sight of
the enemy’s position, and once again a halt was called. The occasional
gleaming of a spear in the grass, or the waving of a plume upon a
Niam-niam’s hat, made us aware that we were not far from the presence
of the foe. They seemed to be in a wide semicircle, that embraced the
front of our halting-ground. There was, however, something in their
demeanour that appeared to indicate a desire on their part for a
parley. The interpreters therefore were sent forward, the trumpeter
Inglery at their head; Mohammed himself soon followed, and a conference
ensued. The natives all this time took careful cognizance of the range
of the Khartoomers’ guns, and did not seem disposed to approach nearer
than was requisite to understand what was said.

As the parley proceeded, and we saw the parties approximate nearer
to each other, we began to expect a favourable termination of the
interview. It turned out that the men with whom Mohammed was treating
were representatives of the districts adjoining the A-Madi, the Nabanda
Yuroo. They declared that though they were subject to Wando they had
really no share in his hostile intentions; they were anxious to guard
themselves against the mischief that might befall them from their
proximity to the scene of war, and consequently were only pleading “for
their hearths and homes.” Mohammed was inclined to listen to their
plea, although he was reckoning without his host. Meanwhile some of the
actual belligerents arrived, and professed that they could give us a
safe conduct across the country, declaring that they were well aware
where Wando had deposited Mohammed’s ivory, and upon these pretexts
they urged Mohammed to accept them as guides.

I could not resist making my way up to Mohammed as he stood surrounded
by his guard, and giving his instructions to the interpreters, in order
that I might point out to him the advantage of his position. I wanted
him to understand how much better it would be to secure all these men
as hostages than to trust to their promises and proposals; but he made
light of my apprehensions, affirming that savages were all cowards and
afraid of war, and that he had no doubt everything would come right at
last.

Without further delay the A-Banga were then permitted to escort us
to their villages on the other side of the brook, where, in spite of
the suspicious absence of all the women and children, we received an
abundant supply of provisions, and I was presented with a good store
of the flesh of some eland-antelopes, which the natives had killed on
the day before. In reality, these people amply deserved a thorough
chastisement at our hands for the massacre of our women slaves during
our outward journey, but Mohammed, under the hope of obtaining a
safe transit and recovering his ivory, thought it more diplomatic to
overlook the offence.

Before sunrise next morning all were in readiness to proceed. The day
proved to myself to be one of the few unlucky days that marred the
general good fortune that attended my enterprise. A slight mishap
befell me in crossing the first brook, which was but the precursor of
a more serious trouble to come. In crossing a swamp I fell into a deep
quagmire, from which I scrambled out with everything upon me except
my hat covered with the blackest and filthiest of mire. With all my
might I shouted to my servants to bring me clean dry clothes. My outcry
raised an alarm that spread to the rear. There arose an impression
that I had been wounded, and in a short time half the caravan had
crowded round. Order having been restored, we proceeded on our way,
deviating, however, a little from our previous route, and passing
numerous villages and cultivated spots. Owing to irregularities in the
soil our caravan became somewhat broken, and it was deemed advisable
to make a halt near the huts of the next local overseer, for the double
purpose of gathering the stragglers, and of allowing an interval for
the morning meal.

Starting afresh, Mohammed led the way. He was himself unarmed, but he
was attended by his young armour-bearers, and followed by a detachment
of his black body-guard. Next in order and close behind were the men
whose mediation and offers of guidance had yesterday been accepted.
Somehow or other I could not get rid of my presentiment that these
fellows were not to be trusted, and accordingly, contrary to my custom,
I took good care to keep my trusty rifle in my hand. It struck me as
very remarkable that in the villages which we passed the men, women,
and children were all assembled in crowds, and calmly watched our
progress, just as though there was no rumour or thought of war.

[Sidenote: ABOO SAMMAT WOUNDED.]

After about half a league I was at the head of a column of bearers, but
I had fallen some hundred paces behind Mohammed. All at once several
shots fired in rapid succession made me aware that something unusual
had happened in front. Looking to the right I saw some natives rushing
away at full speed across the steppes; a hasty fire was opened upon
the fugitives, and their savage yells of pain betrayed that some of
them were wounded, although they contrived to make good their escape.
Another moment and I caught sight of Mohammed being carried back
towards us with a broad streak of blood across his white sash, and
close beside were the two little armour-bearers writhing with their
faces to the ground, their backs pierced by the native lances. It
was a ghastly sight. Dashing up to Mohammed I ripped up his clothes,
and discovered at a glance that my poor friend had received a deep
spear-cut in his thigh. I did not lose an instant in adopting what
measures I could. As fate would have it, I had a box of insect needles
in my pocket. Water, of which we were always careful to have a supply,
was close at hand. Mohammed’s own muslin scarf was just the thing for
a bandage. Having carefully been washed, and then bound together with
half-a-dozen of the strongest of the pins, and finally enveloped in the
scarf and tied with yarn, the gaping wound was completely dressed, and
began to heal almost as soon as it was closed.

The sad event had occurred in this way. One of the pretended guides
forced his way between Mohammed and his young shield-bearers, and
brandishing his lance cried out, “The people of Yuroo are for peace;
_we_ are for war.” Mohammed instinctively made a sidelong movement to
escape the falling blow, and thus probably saved his life. Meanwhile
the other natives attacked the boys and stabbed them between the
shoulders. Although Mohammed had escaped the direct blow that was
designed, the huge lance, with its head a foot and a half in length,
had sunk deep into his flesh. With the fortitude of desperation he
dragged the murderous weapon from the wound, hurled it after the
fugitive assassin, and then fell senseless to the earth. The injury
caused by the barbs of the spear (which were an inch long) was
miserably aggravated by the impetuous fury with which the weapon was
extracted. The wound was broad and deep enough to admit my whole hand,
and had only just escaped the kidney, which was visible through the
open flesh.

In their first surprise at the sudden attack, Mohammed’s personal
retinue had fired almost at random after the fugitive traitors; but
as their guns were only loaded with deer-shot, they for the most part
hit the enemy without killing them. Immediately upon this there ensued
a general chase, and during the time that I was engaged in binding up
Mohammed’s wound, I could hear the reports of firearms along the whole
line of our procession.

And now again a halt was ordered, the columns of bearers were
collected, their loads were deposited in piles upon the ground, and
the signal was given for a general plunder. Joyfully enough was the
order hailed; it was especially welcome to the hungry Bongo after their
scanty fare on the previous days.

[Sidenote: HOSTILITIES.]

As a proof that the natives were in league together, I noticed that
directly after the treacherous attack upon Mohammed, all spectators
disappeared from the road; and although the Nubians, considering
themselves perfectly justified in taking what slaves they could, went
in pursuit of women and children, I did not see that their exertions
were attended with any success. They secured a number of unfortunate
boys, but they let them loose again, persecuting them with gun-shot and
lances as they took to flight. The air rung with their shrieks, and it
was only the long grass, I cannot doubt, that prevented my seeing not a
few of these undeserving victims sink and die upon the earth.

Within an hour not only were the granaries of the villages around so
effectually ransacked that abundance of corn was piled up around our
quarters, but the villages themselves were involved in flames. With an
expedition quite astonishing, the conical roofs were removed from the
nearest huts and employed in the construction of an improvised camp for
ourselves, which was subsequently surrounded by a substantial abattis.
The woodwork from the adjacent dwellings furnished the material for
this defence, which we presumed might be necessary in case of attack.

Meantime our fighting force was adequate to keep the natives, who had
assembled to do battle with us as intruders, at a safe distance from
our camp, where our own negroes were busily storing whatever they had
captured. While this was going on some of the fighting men came in,
and approaching their chieftain, who, wrapped in wet bandages, was
reclining on a couch beneath a tree, laid at his feet their first
trophies of war, consisting of several heads of the A-Banga. It was in
the first excitement of battle that these heads had been taken off
the bodies of the fallen, and in revenge for the slaughterous attack
upon Mohammed; but throughout the whole period of hostility, although
some twenty natives were killed, this was the first and last instance
that came under my notice of the barbarous custom. All the negroes
attached to our caravan had a superstitious horror of the practice of
decapitating the dead, and the Nubians would have deemed themselves
defiled by touching the corpse of a heathen. As no value appeared in
any quarter to be attached to the heads I appropriated them to myself,
and was thus able to add to the variety of my collection of skulls.

The scene of these adventures was within gunshot of a bank thicket,
through the deep hollow of which flowed a copious brook that a little
farther north joined the Assika. On the opposite bank, which was
considerably higher than the side on which we were encamped, there were
several groups of hamlets scattered about the open plain, and between
these numbers of armed men could be distinguished hurrying about,
the precise object of whose activity we were at a loss to determine.
Amongst the Nubians who were with us were some of the stoutest and
most resolute men in the whole of Aboo Samraat’s corps, and these
had come to the resolution that they would force their way through
the natives who might be hidden in the jungle, cross the brook, and
carry an attack over to the opposite bank. All the ivory that had been
purchased on the outward route and deposited in the land seemed to be
in peril of being lost, and it was the conviction of the Nubians that
their only chance now of recovering their property was by capturing
some of the native women, who would have to be redeemed. Things seemed
to promise favourably for the undertaking. The soil was suitable, the
network of brooks and trenches interspersed with grass plots opened
certain facilities for encompassing an adversary, and if the Nubians
had acted with greater determination they could hardly have failed in
securing the desired hostages, but the passage across the woods on the
river-banks was their first difficulty. They had to contend at a great
disadvantage, for they could only squander their bullets uselessly or
at random among the trees; while the natives from their lurking-places
could do good and sure execution with their spears and arrows.

[Sidenote: ARROWS OF THE A-BANGA.]

I accompanied our party of assailants for some distance, and had a
better opportunity than had ever presented itself before of observing
the effect of the native arrows. The arrows that had wooden heads
I observed to have a range of at least 300 paces, and to fall with
scarcely a sound; such as had iron tips on the contrary came whizzing
through the air, but would not carry half the distance; these appeared
only to be used when the natives felt tolerably sure of their aim.

The A-Banga have a war-dress and equipments that would seem to be
entirely derived from the Monbuttoo: they dance and jump about behind
the bushes as if they were taking part in a pantomime, generally trying
to keep a crouching posture, and only rising to discharge their arrows.
The storm of arrows which they hurled against us as we advanced fell
like strays from a waggon-load of straw, and yet our enemy could not
be detected anywhere, excepting at intervals a form would be seen to
rush across as it changed its place of ambush. Just at the beginning
of the fray one of our side was struck by a wooden arrow in rather a
remarkable way; the point, which was some inches long and as hard as
iron, having caught the inner corner of his eye, remained sticking
close to the side of the lachrymal cavity; the fellow roared out
lustily, but he was found to have sustained no serious hurt. It was
said that a casualty of this kind was by no means unusual, because the
natives always aimed at the eye as the most vulnerable quarter; but as
the arrows are very light, and have to describe a curve before they can
reach their mark, I should presume their destination is altogether a
matter of chance.

On the border of the wood, close to the pathway as it emerged, some of
the more courageous of the natives made a stand and received our people
with gestures of defiance, brandishing their weapons, and tossing their
plumed heads. From the thickets beyond, the war-cries of those who were
less venturesome could be distinctly heard, and from the distance,
beyond again, resounded the clang of the kettledrums. One of the
savages sprang forward towards us, and holding up his shield denounced
us with a volley of maddened imprecations. A bullet quickly pierced
alike his shield and his breast, and he sank mute and senseless to
the earth. A second ventured forward, but only to succumb to the same
fate. Then the savages thought it was time to retreat, and accordingly
wheeling round they disappeared into the obscurity of the wood, where
the rustle of the foliage gave witness to a general flight. Now was the
opportunity to cross, of which the Nubians took advantage, but though
they reached the farmsteads without opposition they could only fire
into the air without an aim, as though they were greeting the new moon
after the fast of Ramadan.

For myself curiosity alone had led me on. I had no warlike ardour,
I had no feeling of vengeance against the natives, and consequently
I took no personal share in this mild skirmish, but those who were
present delighted afterwards in telling wonderful stories of the daring
prowess I had displayed in penetrating the enemy’s ranks. Such reports
often follow a traveller’s reputation for years, and whoever repeats
them is pretty sure to append some marvel of his own fancy. “_When fame
paints a serpent, she attaches feet to its body._”

[Illustration: MOHAMMED DEFIES HIS ENEMIES.]

The savages had no idea of the velocity of a bullet; they invariably
ducked their heads as often as they could hear a ball whistling in the
air; and it was a very ludicrous spectacle when hundreds of black
heads that had been peeping from behind the trees would simultaneously
disappear.

[Sidenote: A CHALLENGE.]

By sundown the whole region about us was clear of the enemy, and
as darkness came on the bearers returned within the shelter of our
abattis, laden richly with spoils that they had secured in the adjacent
villages. Sentries and watch-fires were established, and the night was
passed in a stillness that was rarely broken by a stray and distant
shot. With the exception of a few Bongo-bearers who, yielding to their
marauding propensities, had pushed too far into the hamlets, we had
suffered no loss. Two of the Nubians, however, had received severe
lance-wounds, and had to be carried back to the camp on litters.

It was currently reported among the natives that Mohammed was mortally
wounded. Encouraged by the accession of fresh contingents during
the night, they once again made the woods re-echo with their savage
war-cries, amidst which could be heard the vilest and most abusive
Arabic invectives that they seemed to have learnt for the mere purpose
of vituperating their enemies. Mbahly’s death, however, was the burden
of their chorus. “Mbahly! Mbahly! Give us Mbahly. We want meat.”
Mohammed would not submit to these taunts. In spite of his weakness he
insisted upon showing himself. With his wound firmly bandaged, he was
conveyed beyond the camp to a white ant-hill, from whence he could be
seen far around. For nearly a quarter of an hour he stood upon this
elevation swinging his scimitar, and shouting with the full strength
of his voice, “Here I am, Mbahly is not dead yet.” He then challenged
them to come with a hundred lances if they dare, and retorted upon them
in jeering scorn their cry of, “Pushyo! pushyo!” (meat, meat), always
using the Niam-niam dialect, in which he was tolerably fluent.[51]

Mohammed was at once to be recognised by his Monbuttoo straw hat,
with its bright-red feathers. Although all his compatriots would have
considered it a degradation to adopt a savage costume, he always
delighted, in these expeditions, to dress himself like a native
chieftain. In order to give the natives a still further demonstration
of his safety, in the course of the afternoon he made his nephew array
himself in his own state attire, his flowing rokko-coat, and his
stately plumes, and sent him to conduct a sally towards the north. This
party, however, returned without coming to any engagement.

I spent the whole day in my own tent preparing the ammunition which
I supposed would be requisite for my people if the state of warfare
should last. Deer-shot, with some of a heavier description, I
considered would be of the greatest service in the hands of unskilful
marksmen. I had another occupation, which made me feel like a very
Nemesis. I manipulated the heads of the A-Banga men which I had so
recently appropriated. Probably with their own eyes these heads had
watched the stewing of other human heads, but now they had to simmer on
in my caldron. Although I was quite aware that the Nubians reckoned the
bones of all heathens and unbelievers as entitled to no more respect
than the bones of brute beasts, yet for decency’s sake I preferred
performing the operation in the seclusion of my tent. Notwithstanding
that my dogs had not had any animal food for several days, they could
not be induced to eat a morsel of the boiled human flesh.

[Sidenote: PURSUING THE FUGITIVES.]

Just as it was growing dark we were startled, if not alarmed, by the
appearance of a great troop of natives. The attack was not made, as
hitherto, from the dense dark woods at our feet, but proceeded from
our old path upon the south. Only the foremost ranks were visible, the
rear being hidden by the high grass and bushes; but the wild cries,
like the howling of a coming storm, testified to the overwhelming
numbers of the aggressors. Half of our armed force issued from the camp
in a compact line, and fired a volley straight upon the nearest of
the assailants, five of whom were seen to fall dead upon the ground.
The altered tone of the war-cry proved that many more were wounded,
and as all the guns were loaded with a good handful of heavy shot
this was sure to be the case; but this time the conflict came to such
close quarters that two more of our men were severely wounded by the
native lances. As soon as the attack was thus diverted, and the front
ranks of the enemy began to retreat, the negroes of our caravan, who
had been placed in reserve immediately behind the soldiers, started
off at full speed in pursuit of the fugitives, and their lances made
far greater havoc than all the bullets of the Nubians. Before leaving
Munza’s residence our bearers had all been provided with new weapons,
and thus our little negro band was able to hold its own against greatly
preponderating numbers of the enemy, who, I should imagine, were at
least 10,000 strong.

The weight and diversity of the weapons of the A-Banga, added to the
inconvenience of their costume, necessarily prevented them from making
a rapid flight; they were consequently obliged to keep throwing off
one impediment after another until the ground was strewn with shields,
lances, clothes, and sometimes with their false chignons, ornaments and
all. When the negroes returned to camp, bringing in their spoil and
swinging the chignons on the points of their lances, they were greeted
alike with the glad shout of triumph and the loud ring of laughter.

It was near midnight when the pursuers came back. They had prosecuted
their chase to the frontier wilderness; they had found the villages all
deserted by their inhabitants, and had obtained such stores of plunder
that enough was accumulated to keep our whole caravan for a month.

This had been the most energetic attack that the enemy had yet
attempted; it was made exclusively by the A-Banga, no Niam-niam having
as yet appeared upon the scene. The arrival of Wando, with all his
force, was expected the next day.

Early, therefore, on the following morning half of our little armament
was sent forward to the north, not merely to anticipate any movement
on Wando’s part, but, if possible, to accomplish the object of
obtaining some women as hostages, who might be exchanged for the still
undiscovered ivory. Mohammed was annoyed at the previous failures to
secure any women, knowing by experience that hardly any ransom is
accounted too large by the Niam-niam for the recovery of their wives.

About two hours after the departure of our soldiers a singular sight
arrested our attention. Marching along in single file upon the top of
the opposite slope, which was separated from our camp by the woody
depression and the brook, we saw a lengthened train of armed natives,
who by their large quadrangular shields gleaming in the sun could be at
once recognised as A-Banga. The procession seemed unending; it occupied
fully three hours in passing, and at the lowest computation must
have consisted of 10,000 or 12,000 men. It was at first the general
impression that the chieftain had arrived with the main body of his
troops. It was conjectured that he intended to make a circuit to the
west, and, having crossed the brook, to attack us at nightfall from
the same quarter as our assailants of the previous day. But our fears
were not realised, and we remained utterly unable to reconcile the
manœuvres we had witnessed with the absence of Wando, which was still
a mystery to us, as he might have been joined by all his allies in
the course of a single day. Everything, however, was made clear to us
when our soldiers returned at night from their plundering expeditions.
They told us that on arriving in the morning at the hamlets they had
found the fighting force of the A-Banga all drawn up, evidently waiting
in anxious suspense for the assistance of Wando, but that on their
approach this large body of men immediately vacated their post. Thus
the long train that had caused us so much bewilderment was simply the
10,000 natives retreating at the advance of a detachment of forty or
fifty of our soldiers.

[Sidenote: WANDO’S RETREAT.]

Upon the gradual slope on which our camp-enclosure was situated, the
white ant-hills, that often rise to an altitude of ten feet, were
the only eminences whence any extended view could be obtained across
the long grass of the steppe. These were nearly always occupied by
the natives, who mounted them for the purpose of getting a better
vantage-ground for shouting their menaces and invective insults, but
occasionally they answered another end: they served to allow the
outposts of the contending parties to hold communication with each
other. Amongst Mohammed’s trained soldiers he had no less than forty
Niam-niam, who were very devoted to him. These would appear to have
held some correspondence with the enemy, and from them we learnt that
the A-Banga were greatly irritated at the conduct of Wando, who, after
urging them to attack us, had left them in the lurch. They complained
that all they had got from their acquiescence in his wish was that
the “Turks” had killed their fellow-comrades and laid waste their
land. Wando himself, they said, had had an unpropitious augury at the
beginning of the fray, and, intimidated at the prospect, had abandoned
his scheme; he had withdrawn to the recesses of the forest, and, in
spite of the remonstrances of the A-Banga, he now refused to render
them any aid.

The little wooden bench, the “boroo,” which I have already described,
was also consulted in our own camp. My two Niam-niam, who were no great
heroes, although they had an almost unlimited confidence in Wando’s
power, had a still more unbounded reliance upon the answers of their
wooden oracle. The test had been very unfavourable for one of them,
but I was told that it had promised a safe escape for myself, a
circumstance that once again confirmed my people in their opinion of
my unchangeable good luck. The A-Banga did indeed make an exception
in my favour when they shouted their defiance from the ant-hills; the
Turks, they vowed, should perish, but the white man might go scot-free,
because it was the first time of his coming to their land. The
quietness and retirement of my daily occupation, my interested delight
in studying the peculiarities of those I saw, and perhaps, too, my
reputation of being a harmless “leaf-eater,” all seem to have conspired
to gain me a general good-will.

Little Tikkitikki was perfectly unmoved by all the proceedings;
he showed no sign of fear; he skipped about and played with the
war-trophies; but chiefly he stuffed himself with sesame-pap, of which
there was a lavish abundance at his disposal.

On the fourth morning the enemy had entirely vanished; the inhabitants,
too, had all utterly gone. Throughout the period of warfare, the
Nubians, neither in courage nor in endurance, had come out particularly
strong. The main burden of the contest had fallen upon the “Farookh.”
As a matter of fact, however, the Nubian regulars and the black Farookh
are equally indispensable to every commander of an expedition. The
native soldiers may be the better shots, and they have the advantage
of knowing the country more thoroughly and of being accustomed to the
climate; moreover, on rainy days (when the Nubians would sit shivering
in their huts) they will wrap their guns in their girdles and with the
greatest alacrity go perfectly naked over wood and steppe to repel
an advancing foe; but, at the same time, there is always the risk
of their decamping at a moment’s provocation,—a dilemma into which
a commander would not be led by the Nubians, who would be afraid of
deserting at such a distance from Khartoom. The Nubians, however, are
much more often ailing; they are never perfectly tractable, having an
unconquerable aversion to all restraint; they never showed themselves
as remarkably valiant in our conflicts with the savages, and were in
continual apprehension of being devoured. It was not so much death in
itself of which they were afraid, as of being deprived of the rites
of burial, which are prescribed in the Koran as indispensable for
obtaining the palm of Paradise. The lack of a grave is abhorrent to
the notions of every Mussulman, but the idea of being destined for the
unclean stomach of a cannibal was intolerable.

Mohammed, encouraged by the favourable progress of his wound, now
expressed his desire to quit our present quarters. I endeavoured to
dissuade him from his purpose, and represented to him that, although
the wound had closed without any suppuration, any exertion would have
a tendency to open it afresh; but he persisted in his purpose, and
determined upon being carried in a litter across the hostile territory.
In consequence of the journey the complete healing was thrown back for
a fortnight; but altogether I congratulated myself that my amateur
surgery, which had hitherto been practised mainly on horses and mules,
had proved so satisfactory.

[Sidenote: AGAIN IN MOTION.]

By sunrise on the fifth morning after arriving at this inhospitable
spot, our caravan was again in motion. The camp was burnt, and great
heaps of corn, sesame, kindy, earthnuts, and other provisions, were
scattered about, and as a matter of necessity left behind upon the
ground, much to the chagrin of the bearers, who had once again to face
the deprivations of the wilderness.

It was not without some confusion that we crossed the Assika. The way
before us seemed clear of enemies, and our crowd moved fearlessly on
amongst the thickets. The white ant-hills on the outskirts of the
forest continued to afford admirable stations for reconnoitring, and
for enabling the advanced party to announce that all was safe.

Quitting again our previous line of march, we continued our journey
towards the north, and crossed three more brooks, each of them
conducting us to a fresh grass plain. Once, just as we approached
the edge of a gallery, we were assailed by a shower of arrows, but
the volley of bullets that we sent in reply very quickly deterred
the invisible foe from any further attack. No doubt the enemy were
close enough upon us to make certain of their mark, as the number of
iron-headed arrows was usually large; yet they did not succeed in
inflicting a single serious wound. It happened fortunately that the
bearers, who were more especially exposed to the arrows, were thrown
into no disorder; they had had the careful protection of the Farookh,
who had made a fresh path for themselves through the wood, on either
side of the beaten track.

After passing the last of the three brooks which I have just mentioned,
we came to a cultivated district, and as it was near midday we made a
short halt beside the hamlets. The Bongo had now free scope for their
destructive propensities; they proceeded to cut down the standing maize
to their hearts’ content; they not only plundered all within their
reach, but laid waste the land in every direction. All the world over,
war is ever war.

In ransacking the huts the plundering parties had had the luck to
discover some of the missing ivory. A number of valuable tusks were
recognized as being those which had been purchased from Wando, by means
of some incisions that Mohammed had made upon them; the magazines in
which they were concealed being revealed by the cackling of a lot of
hens down amongst some unthrashed eleusine. When the hens were found a
quantity of eggs was found with them, and I was in consequence treated
to a very choice breakfast. Eggs are very rare throughout the district,
the Niam-niam hens being as niggardly with them as the Dinka cows are
with their milk.

At noon the sun became overcast, and the whole sky veiled in a
grey vapour that reminded one of a late autumn day in the north. A
phenomenon then ensued which is by no means uncommon in these regions;
the disk of the sun turned quite red, and was seen to be encircled by
two distinct concentric halos, which in rings of shadowy brown embraced
at least a third of the firmament above.

[Sidenote: CAPTURE OF WOMEN.]

Turning to the E.S.E. we kept now to the right of the depression of
the brook, passing numerous groups of huts upon our way. Isolated
dome-palms (_Hyphæne thebaica_), rare in the Niam-niam lands, reared
themselves at intervals like landmarks on the route. Farther on we
crossed the Diamvonoo, which flowed through a ravine precipitous and
obscure, and subsequently, leaving the old road to the west, we had
to ford a succession of gallery-brooks. We had already made our way
through four of these, when on approaching to the fifth we caught
sight of a number of natives who, surprised at our appearance, slunk
away from their huts, and tried, like beasts of prey, to find a safe
lurking-place in the adjacent thickets. The capture was effected here
of two Niam-niam women. They were bringing water from the brook, and
being espied by the advanced guard were soon secured and conducted
to the caravan, where, after the failure of the previous days, their
arrival was hailed with a shout of glee. The women themselves were
perfectly composed, and apparently quite indifferent, making themselves
at once thoroughly at home with such of their country-women as they
found already in our train.

It was later than usual before we halted for the night, and our men
were more than ordinarily fatigued. In consequence of this our camp
was pitched with haste and carelessness. The weather turned out cold
and very rainy; the ground became so soft and soddened that it would
afford no hold for the tent-pegs; and so all prospect of rest had to be
abandoned. Every moment the pole that upheld the frail shelter above
me threatened to give way. I held tightly on, and shouted through the
commotion of the storm for my servants to make haste, and they only
came in time to save me from a thorough drenching. This scene had to be
repeated more than once.

It was touching, through the moaning of the wind, to catch the
lamentations of the Niam-niam men bewailing the loss of their captured
wives; cannibals though they were, they were evidently capable of
true conjugal affection. The Nubians remained quite unaffected by any
of their cries, and never for a moment swerved from their purpose of
recovering the ivory before they surrendered the women.

Anxious next day to continue our course to the east we had to cross
so many streams that they seemed to make a labyrinth of waters. The
windings of the interlacing brooks and the network of entangled
streams apparently corresponded almost precisely with what Livingstone
describes as the hydrographical character of the country on the west
of Lake Tanganyika, and which he has compared to frosted window panes
in winter. This great explorer (who has been over at least a third
of the vast continent of Africa) noticed a similar source-territory
through which flowed the Lualaba,[52] at that time quite an enigmatical
stream. Its course, indeed, was towards the north, but Livingstone was
manifestly in error when he took it for a true source of the Nile; a
supposition that might have some semblance of foundation, originating
in the inexplicable volume of the water of Lake Mwootan (Albert
Nyanza), but which was negatived completely as soon as more ample
investigation had been made as to the comparative level, direction, and
connection of other rivers, especially of the Welle.

We now found ourselves in a locality with which our own Niam-niam
were by no means acquainted, and there was no facility for getting
any proper guides; just, therefore, as might be expected, we missed
our way, and proceeded (without knowing whither we should come)
for a couple of leagues along a splendid gallery, where numbers of
silver-white colobus-apes were merrily taking their pleasure.

[Sidenote: LOSING THE WAY.]

I had my suspicions that we were going wrong, and by referring to
my journal in which I had entered the details of our former route,
I ascertained that we were now taking the same direction as we
had followed then. Further inquiry soon convinced us that we were
proceeding straight towards the spot where we had last met Wando,
and that in fact we were not distant more than three miles from his
residence. We were quite aware that he was not just then at his
Mbanga, but still there was no doubt that if we would ensure reaching
Mohammed’s Seriba unmolested, it would be politic to make a wider
circuit round the hostile district, and accordingly, without delay, we
retraced our steps for a considerable distance.

On the confines of the gallery, the land had just been cleared for a
crop of sweet-potatoes, and a number of women was occupied in the work.
They had a lot of dogs scampering about, and the sight of these caused
quite an excitement amongst our Mittoo-bearers, who darted at them with
their spears, and slaughtered them in the most remorseless fashion.
Pitiable and heartrending in the extreme it was to see the poor brutes
writhing upon the lances. I must confess to have felt more sympathy
for the dogs in this country than for all the men. Perchance some one
is inclined to reprobate such a sentiment; but I think I could show
him a picture where his own best sympathies would hardly be with his
fellow-creatures. I could paint for him the spectacle, as it has been
seen on a Sunday morning in some thriving town, when all the residents
are sallying out in their best attire, and in mournful contrast a
string of poor ill-clad, dejected emigrants passes by. What is it then,
I would ask, that gives the deepest, truest pathos to the scene? It is
not the sight of the human wretchedness, which probably is the penalty
of indolence or crime, but rather it is more than all the sight of the
faithful dog that has followed its master through weal and woe, never
quitting his side, and taking its share in all the vicissitudes of his
lot.

We had now turned due east along a road that led us across the Dyagbe,
the brook that ran past Wando’s residence; and, after marching for
three hours over a desert steppe, we finally encamped upon the left
bank of a large gallery-wood, where the vegetation was so luxuriant,
that, forgetting all my fatigue, I botanised until night stopped my
further researches. Game was abundant, and we had a savoury supper of
roast antelope.

The next morning was wet and gloomy. In forcing our way through the
dripping thickets, in order to reach the river, we got thoroughly
drenched to the skin. We had also to endure incessant torture from the
barbs of the calamus (the generic name of the rotang), which like so
many little pike-hooks insinuated themselves through our clothes to our
flesh: attached to the twigs and universally diffused among the bushes,
they were a perpetual irritation for the traveller. After we had
accomplished this irritating passage, we proceeded northwards, crossed
two more brooks of a similar character, and arrived at a cultivated and
populous district on the banks of the Mbrwole.

The Farookh, who had been sent on for a league in advance, had
effectually scoured the district, and had been rewarded by the capture
of a young lady of rank: she had been taken by surprise, and in the
wonted manner of the country endeavoured to save herself by taking
refuge in the forest, but she was tracked like a deer, and captured
after a short chase. She was attired in a magnificent apron of skins,
and was elaborately as well as fantastically adorned with strings of
teeth; and to judge from the numerous trophies of the chase with which
she was decorated, she might be suspected of having a mighty Nimrod
amongst her circle of admirers. Full-grown men are never seized on
these occasions, and that for two reasons; in the first place because
considering capture as identical with death, they defend themselves
with the fury of desperation; and secondly, because they are of no
value as slaves. In these expeditions, it is an understood thing that
the sheyba, or yoke, is never employed to fetter strong men; it would
be far too much trouble to look after them and to drive them along when
all one’s energies are required for the protection of the baggage.

[Sidenote: THE MBRWOLE.]

The Mbrwole, which, ten miles lower down, after receiving a number of
rivulets from the south, becomes a considerable stream, had here the
appearance of being nothing more than an ordinary gallery-brook; and if
I had not heard the name from the Niam-niam, who are always accurate
in the nomenclature of their waters, I should have never imagined
that it was the main stream. The Bahr-el-Wando, as it is called by
the Khartoomers, flowed due west; and though doubtless it was fed by
various minor brooks, it was here little more than a ditch of a few
feet in breadth; yet the entire depression, clothed with its woody
heights, was scarcely less than 1500 paces broad.

The abject terror which the Niam-niam men displayed, lest they should
be devoured, formed a very remarkable contrast to the quiet composure
of the young woman who had just been captured, and who, without any
sign of fear, entered into conversation and was ready to furnish us
with whatever geographical information she could. Her calm demeanour
led me to the conclusion that the Niam-niam forego eating their female
prisoners of war, for the advantage of reserving them as slaves.

Under the guidance of our captive, we crossed the Mbrwole, and taking
possession of the huts on the opposite bank, we found ourselves
towards midday well installed in a comfortable camp.

The proximity of our position here to the thickets made a nocturnal
attack more than probable. I resolved, therefore, to pitch my own
tent in the middle of the huts and to keep a lamp burning throughout
the night. The tent consequently became (as it was in a measure
transparent) a great lantern in the darkness and formed a target for
the aim of the missiles from the woods, a number of arrows being found
on the following morning sticking in the top; these I have preserved
as memorials of our bivouac on the Mbrwole. All night long the natives
were skirmishing with our outposts, thus necessitating a continual fire
in reply; but although I slept alone in my tent, the experience of
the last few days had so accustomed me to the perpetual shots that my
night’s rest was perfectly undisturbed. I was well aware that before
the enemy could get to my position in the centre of the camp, they must
alarm the groups of bearers who were crouching round their fires, and
must afterwards penetrate the quarters of the soldiers and of my own
servants.

To get into the right road we had again to cross the Mbrwole.
Another two leagues to the west along the left bank, and the river
was recrossed once more. Over cultivated tracts of rising ground we
proceeded to the north and came to some extensive flats of gneiss,
the first we observed in the course of our return. This gneiss, being
on the hither side of the river, and to the east of the furrowed
soil which we noticed on our outward way between the Mbrwole and the
Lindukoo, acquired an increased significance as apparently belonging to
the line of elevation that traverses the watershed of the Nile.

[Sidenote: THE LINDUKOO.]

Leaving this interesting locality, we made a palpable descent, and
had next to pass over the meadow-waters that, flowing in a northerly
direction, formed affluents of the Lindukoo. No regular path conducted
to the farther side; pell-mell the caravan plunged into the long
grass and clumps of Phrynia that made a half-floating surface to the
swampy depths. Experience makes a traveller wary in getting across
these marshy spots; he learns by practice how to avoid a ducking; he
gets the knack of kicking down a clump of weeds without lifting his
feet, and can tell to a nicety whether it will bear his weight; by
caution such as this he surmounts the difficulty of “the lacustrine
streams.” After passing the last of these, we made our next encampment
near some Niam-niam hamlets, which, in this direction, were the last
before we should arrive at Aboo Sammat’s territory. Our arrival here
was unexpected, yet before the bulk of the caravan had come up the
inhabitants had all made off, so that we found the place entirely
deserted. Although the late outbreak of hostilities had put the whole
district upon the alert, there were various things to prevent the foe
from reckoning with any certainty upon our movements; unevenness of
soil, extent of wilderness, prospect of supplies, all influenced our
plans, which might be changed at any hour; and thus it happened that in
spite of all the spies that might be set to watch us, the adversary was
never safe from being taken by surprise.

Ten leagues still remained between our present quarters and Aboo
Sammat’s hospitable Seriba, which it was our wish to reach by the
shortest route.

An early hour of the following day found us at the Lindukoo, that
branch of the Yubbo, which I have already described as the last
tributary of the Nile system, and which is distinguishable from the
other rivers of the district by the eastward flow of its waters. It
was here considerably enlarged by receiving the meadow waters from the
watershed. Bounded by banks some 20 feet in height, it meandered along
a deep bed that was 30 feet in breadth, through low-lying steppes,
which at no great distance were replaced by woods.

The bank-forests that give the flora of the southern Niam-niam lands
its singular resemblance to the West African type of vegetation here
came to an end. In arriving at the gneiss-hills, we had entered upon
the limits of the dense bush-forest which covers Mohammed’s entire
territory, an area of nearly 500 square miles. Whilst, in the region
of the gallery-forests, all the trees and bushes are confined to
the river-banks, the intermediate spaces being occupied by uniform
grass-plains, _here_, on the contrary, in the region of continuous
woods all watercourses of every kind, whether they are rivers or
mere brooks are (just as in Bongoland) bounded by low open plains,
which extend, without being wooded at all, to the very shores. The
hydrographical system is better developed, and imparts a well-defined
aspect to the scenery, the strips of open grassy steppe along the
margins of the watercourses winding like streams of verdure through the
dense masses of the foliage.

I swam across the narrow though copious river, while the bearers
conveyed the baggage over along the trunks of trees that were thrown
from side to side. Turning to the north-east we passed over two more
meadow-waters and reached the Yubbo, which was now 50 feet wide, and
too deep to wade; as no trees could be found of a length sufficient to
serve as bridges, some grass rafts had to be extemporised.

We were now once more in our former route. Another half league brought
us to the Uzze, of which, at this season, the stream was so extremely
sluggish that by my usual test of a gourd-flask tied to a string I
could detect no apparent current at all. The river we found was 5 feet
deep and 25 feet wide.

The herds of buffaloes which we had noticed two months before seemed
never to have changed their quarters. A chase was started while the
sun still gave us light, and before night closed in the carcases of
two powerful brutes were seething in caldrons that had long been
empty. Early on the 1st of May we were joined by some Niam-niam who,
were under Mohammed’s jurisdiction, and who, having been stationed as
outposts on the borders of the hostile territory, had been attracted
into the frontier forest by the shots of the previous evening.

[Sidenote: THE BANKS OF THE NABAMBISSO.]

The last stage of our march before reaching the Seriba was soon
accomplished. The road led through a charming park-like wood, through
which, by subterranean channels, the meadow-waters of the Yabo and
Yabongo rolled off their verdure-hidden streams. In this latitude (4°
5’ N.), the rain had had very little effect upon the lesser rivulets
of the district, and the only signs of the advancing season were to be
found in the increased variety of newly-sprouting plants and flowers.

We had a general rendezvous two leagues west of the Seriba, on the
spot where we had made our first bivouac when we were starting to the
south. It was here that Mohammed was desirous of erecting a new Seriba,
as the buildings of the old one were becoming somewhat ruined, and
this appeared a better site for defending himself against aggressors.
Besides Wando on the south, he had another enemy on the west, viz.
Wando’s brother Mbeeoh, who, as an independent chieftain, ruled the
district on the lower Yubbo, before its union with the Sway; and the
combined attacks of these two placed his possessions at times in
considerable jeopardy. To escape this difficulty Mohammed now resolved
to undertake a campaign against Mbeeoh first, and, as soon as this was
accomplished, to proceed with his measures of reprisal against Wando.

Until the enterprise against Mbeeoh was over, I was left to take up my
abode with the invalided soldiers, and my own little retinue upon the
banks of the Nabambisso.

FOOTNOTES:

[43] It may be objected that this theory does not hold
good for many parts of Central Africa. Barth (vol.
iii., p. 266) gives twelve instances to prove that
all the tribes of the Central Soudan have no other
distinctions for any of their streams beyond the
general terms of “water” or river. But I must be
permitted to urge that the Arabs of the Eastern Soudan
have their Atbara, Sobat, &c. At any rate, the people
amongst whom I travelled, especially the Niam-niam
and the Monbuttoo, formed remarkable exceptions, for
they invariably gave all localities the names of the
adjacent rivers or brooks.

[44] The accompanying drawing, taken on the spot, will
convey a correct idea of the scene.

[45] In many Central African dialects, such as the Baghirmy
and Bongo, the monosyllable “ba” means “river.”

[46] Referring to the Soudan Arabic word “to-day,” which is
literally “in the night.”

[47] Drombeta.

[48] Tamboor.

[49] _Vide_ ‘Speke’s Journal,’ p. 90.

[50] The annexed woodcut is too minute to represent
the details, but it may give some idea of the
plantain-groves in the obscurity of these forests.
The cumbrous stems are thickly overgrown with wild
pepper, and the spreading branches are loaded with
long bead moss (_Usnea_), and with that remarkable
lichen to which I have given the name of elephant’s
ear: high among the boughs are the huge dwellings of
the tree-termes. Some stems, already decayed, serve as
supports for immense garlands of Mucuna, and, overhung
by impenetrable foliage, form roomy bowers where dull
obscurity reigns supreme. Such is the home of the
chimpanzee.

[51] In the woodcut that depicts this scene, the background
gives a representation of the splendid forest scenery
that marked the spot.

[52] In one of his letters, Livingstone describes the
Lualaba as “a lacustrine river.”

CHAPTER XVIII.

Solitary days and short provisions. Productive ant-hill. Ideal
plenty and actual necessity. Attempt at epicurism. Expedition
to the east. Papyrus swamp. Disgusting food of The Niam-niam.
Merdyan’s Seriba. Hyæna as beast of prey. Losing the way.
Reception in Tuhamy’s Seriba. Scenery of Mondoo. Gyabir’s
marriage. Discovery of the source of the Dyoor. Mount Baginze.
Vegetation of mountain. Cyanite gneiss. Mohammed’s campaign
against Mbeeoh. Three Bongo missing. Skulls Nos. 36, 37, and 38.
Indifference of Nubians to cannibalism. Horrible scene. Change
in mode of living. Invasion of ants. Peculiar method of crossing
the Sway. Bad tidings. Successful chase. Extract of meat. Return
of long absent friends. Adventures of Mohammed’s detachment.
Route from Rikkete to Kanna. Disappointment with Niam-niam dog.
Limited authority of Nganye. Suspension-bridge over the Tondy.

After the fatigue and excitement of our previous journey we were
glad to recruit ourselves by a comfortable camp life in the dense
bush-forest on the Nabambisso. Spacious grass-huts had been erected
for our accommodation until the new Seriba should be completed, and
these, nestling amongst the massive foliage of the abundant vegetation,
gave the spot an aspect that was almost home-like. A refreshing rain
had moderated the temperature; and the air, mild and laden, with the
fragrant odours of the wood, gave animation both to mind and body.

Three years previously all the land had been under cultivation; but
nature had soon effaced well-nigh every trace of human labour, and the
roots of the trees and shrubs that had only been partially destroyed
by the tillage had sprouted forth with redoubled vigour and still more
gigantic development of leaf; thus attesting the unfailing power of
vitality in the wilderness and the impotency of man against the
persistency of nature.

[Illustration: DAILY LIFE IN CAMP.]

In this charming locality I passed the early days of May, a month
which in these latitudes may truly be called a month of rapture, when
the commencement of the rains has renewed the life and growth of all
around. From morning to night I strolled leisurely about amongst the
bushes, but without neglecting a chance of enriching my stores of
botanical treasure by every novelty that presented itself.

[Sidenote: A NEW SERIBA.]

Meanwhile, Mohammed was occupied in the formation of his new Seriba.
Hundreds of natives were employed in conveying the trunks of trees
from the neighbouring forest, and these were erected side by side and
close together in a deep trench; the trench was afterwards filled
in with earth, and the palisaded Seriba, a hundred feet square, was
all complete. So quickly was the work accomplished that on the fifth
day after our arrival the invalided soldiers, by whom it was to be
occupied, were removed into their new quarters. The other soldiers
in the interval had vacated the old Seriba. Everything being ready,
Mohammed, accompanied by his entire marching force, started off on
his campaign against Mbeeoh and Wando; during his absence it had been
arranged that I should make this quiet, lonely spot my temporary home.

Confined thus to a narrow area, I had now to look forward to a period
of inactivity, in addition to which I had the prospect, by no means
pleasant, of submitting to a scale of diet that was straitly limited.
Our provisions were all but exhausted. Under the most favourable
circumstances, Mohammed could not be expected back in less than twenty
days, and the slender supply left for the maintenance of the few men
who remained behind as my body-guard would have to be carefully doled
out in daily rations to last out the time. Our cattle had all long
since been slaughtered; goats were nowhere to be had; nor could any
hunting-booty reasonably be expected. For myself the only animal food
on which I could rely consisted of twenty tiny fowls of the diminutive
Niam-niam breed, which Mohammed, from some unknown source, had procured
for me, reckoning that he had thus provided me with one daily meal
during the three weeks in which he would be absent. This valuable
treasure was, however, a cause of some solicitude; in the first place a
strong cage had to be constructed to secure them against the robbers of
the night; and, secondly, we could not help begrudging them every grain
that they consumed of our scanty stock of eleusine.

My daily allowance now consisted of a fowl, scarcely as large as a
partridge, and one single slice of the coarse and bitter eleusine
bread; but these, in the bracing air of the Niam-niam and in the
cool stimulating temperature of the early rains, were far from being
sufficient nourishment, and I began to be conscious of the pangs of
downright hunger. The season was very unfavourable for hunting, but
even if it had been otherwise I should have felt it undesirable, under
the circumstances, to have wandered far from my quarters: the ruined
condition of our palisade left us especially exposed to an attack, and
with our small supply of firearms it was advisable to be constantly on
the spot. It is to this day a mystery to me how the Bongo bearers who
remained with us supported life during this period of privation; but
somehow or other they had a wonderful knack of discovering all kinds
of edibles in the forest, and stirred up by their example I eagerly
grasped at anything the wilderness afforded to supply the deficiency of
my meagre cuisine.

[Sidenote: WHITE ANTS.]

In the middle of the open space of the old Seriba there happened to be
a huge white ant-bill of long standing, and this rendered some timely
assistance in our need; every night after there had been heavy rain,
myriads of white ants appeared on the red clods and might be gathered
by the bushel; they belonged to the fat-bodied, winged class, and were
what are known as “sexual males.” Immediately upon issuing from their
dark retreat, and after a short swarming, they assemble in masses at
the foot of their hill and proceed to divest themselves of their wings,
leaving their heavy bodies helpless on the ground. This removal of
their wings does not seem a matter of difficulty; the instinct of the
insects seems to prompt them to throw the wings quite forward till they
can be so mutilated by the front feet that they completely drop off.
Any insects that remained upon the wing were soon brought to the ground
by bundles of lighted straw being placed under them, so that it might
literally be said to rain white ants. Baskets full were then readily
collected for our table. Partly fried and partly boiled they helped to
compensate for our lack of grease of any kind. Not unfrequently I mixed
them with uncooked corn and ate them from the hollow of my hand; they
made just the kind of food that would be good for birds, and, _more
avium_, I took them. If the day only chanced to be rainy, the night was
sure to be provided with a feast; there was not one of us who had not
cause to be thankful for the strange abundance of the ant-hill.

Fortunately I found that I had a little reserve of the extract of meat
which had been obtained from the Monbuttoo goats; with this and with
a fair supply of bread and vegetables I could have managed for myself
very well; but unluckily there were no vegetables in the district;
the last of the tubers had been devoured and the gourd-season had not
yet arrived. It was revolting to me to boil and eat the gourd leaves
like the natives, and I therefore endeavoured to procure some of the
Melochia of the Arabs, a species of Corchorus which is found both wild
and cultivated throughout the entire district of the Nile. It was upon
this plant alone, boiled like spinach, that (with the aid of thyme-tea)
Sir Samuel Baker records that he subsisted for some weeks at the time
when he was treacherously deserted by the natives on his way back from
the lake. At this period, however, of my residence on the Nabambisso,
the Melochia was only just beginning to sprout, and with all my
diligence in looking for it I could never get more than the scantiest
of platefuls at a time.

As the discomforts of our situation increased and became more and
more trying, I was thrown upon my resources to seek enjoyment of a
more ideal nature, and in the neighbouring woods I found the best of
compensation for all my bodily privations. Whenever I was beginning
to feel more than ordinarily disconsolate I would hurry off to the
thickets, and there amongst the splendid and luxuriant vegetation
I was sure to find an engagement which would, at least for a time,
draw away my thoughts even from the appeal of hunger. In hardly any
portion of the world ought an enthusiastic botanist to suffer _ennui_;
wherever there exists a germ of life, there is also a stimulant to his
spirit; but hardly a scene can be imagined calculated to enlist his
whole interests more and to divert him better than the exuberance of
bountiful nature such as was revealed upon the Nabambisso.

[Sidenote: ON LOW RATIONS.]

The few books that I had brought out with me I had read over and
over again. The perusal of Speke’s journal and Baker’s accounts of
his difficulties gave me great interest, and I realized very fully
a situation which appeared to coincide so entirely with my own.
During my forced solitary hours I was only too glad to get hold of
any printed matter whatever that was new to me. My extensive store
of grey blotting-paper, that served to protect the dried plants
was silent enough; but the books into which every few pages of the
paper were stitched were fastened on the backs by strips of paper
which I carefully removed and found to be a source of occasional
diversion. This paper, as being stout in quality, chanced to be cut
from the _Times_; and the articles on the leading topics of the
day, the correspondence with the editor, and even the concisest of
advertisements, all supplied a peculiar interest. It was strange to sit
here, in the very heart of Central Africa, and to read of the tropical
wonders that graced the Crystal Palace, where the music that floated
round might be the echoes of the voice of Titiens. Tantalizing it was
to read of “Mountain port at twenty shillings a dozen,” and to learn
that it was comparatively free from alcohol; it made us (involuntary
abstainers as we were) thirstier than ever, and joyfully enough would
my Bongo bearers have had some cases to convey. I wished myself back
again in the days when we were fighting the A-Banga; for though they
were days of peril, they were days of plenty, and the old Spanish
proverb would ever and again force itself upon my recollection, “No
misfortune comes amiss to a full stomach.” At night my dream was akin
to Baker’s dream of pale ale and beef-steak. It seemed as though one
only required a good meal’s victuals that he might die in peace, and
be contented to have for his epitaph the saying of the warrior of the
Roman Empire, “What I have eaten and what I have drunk is all that now
remains to me.” Nothing could elevate the vision of the mind for long;
tied down to material things, it was impotent to soar; and food and
drink became the single and prevailing theme which we were capable of
handling by day or dreaming of by night.

Reduced to this low and depressed condition were the feelings which
I experienced during the later portion of those lonely weeks that I
spent in the great shed, now half-ruined, that had formed the assembly
hall of the old Seriba. The stipulated time of solitude was drawing
rapidly to a close, but still nothing was heard from Mohammed. Our
necessities became more and more urgent: to remain where we were
became more and more impracticable; and to escape from the disasters
that were threatening us I proposed to set off on an excursion to the
nearest settlement of any Khartoomers. Forty miles to the west of
our present quarters was a Seriba belonging to Tuhamy, and a lofty
mountain situated in its vicinity offered special attractions for a
visit; the journey would be safe, as the route led across Mohammed’s
own territory, and on our way we should pass another Seriba upon the
eastern frontiers of his district. Ten bearers would suffice to carry
my baggage for this little trip, and I need hardly say how glad they
were to accompany me under the prospect of ending, or at least gaining
a respite from, their season of privation.

We started off on our march upon the 21st, and after crossing the
Boddoh brook and two smaller rivulets we arrived at the Hoo. This
little stream meandered through a wood remarkable for its diversity of
trees, amongst which I was surprised to see the Sparmannia of Southern
Africa. The banks themselves were enclosed by dense bushes of a new
species of Stipularia, of which the numerous blossoms, half-hidden
in their purple sheaths, gave a singular appearance to the plant. It
belongs to the characteristic stream-vegetation of the spot.

Beyond the Hoo we came to a ravine of a hundred feet in depth with
a charming hedge of zawa trees; and then crossing two more brooks,
copiously supplied with water and both running to the north, we
terminated our twelve miles’ march and found a hospitable reception
in the huts of Ghitta, an overseer of some of the Niam-niam subject
to my friend Mohammed. After our recent privations we seemed quite
overpowered by the liberality of the entertainment offered us by
Ghitta; he procured corn for the bearers, he brought out several flasks
of eleusine-beer, and more than satisfied all reasonable claims upon
his hospitality. To the great diversion of the assembled villagers
I shot a great number of turtle-doves in the adjacent trees. This
species, with the white ring round the throat, is found all through the
year in well-nigh every part of Central Africa, although it appears
to avoid certain localities, such for instance as the vicinity of our
ruined Seriba, where we should have been most thankful for such an
addition to our scanty stores; the birds, however, manifestly have a
preference for particular places, but wherever they resort they are
generally to be noticed amongst the foliage in immense flocks.

[Sidenote: MADIKAMM.]

The soil of this region was once more broken by deep clefts, and was
alternately a series of gentle undulations and of deep-cut ravines.
Beyond Ghitta’s village the road turned towards the south-east and
crossed a brook; further on it passed through a district enlivened by
numerous farmsteads and where some sorghum-fields testified to the
influence of their neighbours on the east upon the industry of the
inhabitants. The district was named Madikamm, being called so after
the second brook to the east of Ghitta’s hamlets. The majority of men
capable of bearing arms had accompanied Mohammed on his campaign;
consequently the huts had hardly any other occupants but women and
children, who retreated shyly as we advanced, and shut themselves up in
their pretty dwellings.

The votive pillars adorned with many a variety of skulls demonstrated
that at certain seasons the hunting booty must be very large; the
diversity of antelopes, however, was far smaller than amongst the Bongo
and Mittoo, a circumstance that recalled to my mind an observation made
by many travellers in South Africa who have affirmed that wherever
there are many elephants there is comparatively a scarceness in the
number of antelopes: the greater beasts, doubtless, make too much
commotion in the forests, and in their wanderings by night disturb the
haunts and hiding-places of the more timid game.

Leaving the villages of Madikamm in our rear, we found ourselves on the
edge of a great swamp a thousand feet wide, which moved its insidious
course northwards in the direction of the adjacent territory of the
Babuckur. It was covered in its entire width by a huge, half-floating
mass of papyrus, which, called “Bodumoh” by the Niam-niam, gives its
name to the marshy waters. This was the first specimen of the papyrus
that I had seen in the depth of the interior at so great a distance
from the two main affluents of the Upper Nile, and it gave a new
character to the locality; it is, however, a characteristic of the
swampy region on the upper course of the Sway, where the reduced and
meagre remnant of Babuckur, sorely pressed on every side, drag out
their miserable lives; their frontiers were only a league to the north
of the spot where we crossed.

After leaving the Bodumoh, our road took an E.S.E. direction, which it
retained as far as Tuhamy’s Seriba. At the first hamlets we reached,
the inhabitants viewed us with considerable distrust, as the soldiers
from the nearest Khartoom settlements, and those who intended to pass
through Mohammed’s territory, had most arbitrarily levied some heavy
taxes upon them.

Beyond the huts were open steppes covered with towering grass which
shadowed many shrubs that were entirely new to me, and excited my
liveliest interest. Not a few of them were in full bloom, and I
walked along carrying a bouquet that it was no exaggeration to call
magnificent. The natives might seem fully justified in reviving amongst
themselves my name of “Mbarik-pah.”

I may mention that careful as was the method which I have described
of our wading over the marshy swamps it was not uniformly attended
with success. More than once in attempting to cross without assistance
at the head of my little troop I had come to grief; and now once
again, at the very next swamp we came to, it was my fate to have an
involuntary bath. The dilemma caused us some delay. I was proceeding
leisurely along, but coming to a deep hole concealed completely by
the long swamp grass I suddenly fell in and was fished out again by
my people thoroughly drenched and plastered over with an envelope of
mud. It took an hour while I changed my clothes and while the filth was
cleansed from the articles I was carrying.

Although the temperature was really as high as that of a July day in
our northern clime, the sky nevertheless was overcast and the weather
windy, so that it was with chattering teeth and an inward chill that I
continued my march along the steppe. All prospect of the surrounding
country was obstructed by the towering grass. There was no distant
vision to fill the eye, and there was little to relieve the monotony
but the radiant blossoms, red and blue, of the flowering shrubs.

[Sidenote: A ROMANTIC BRIDGE.]

After a while our course was interrupted by a brook fifteen feet in
width called the Kishy. This was too deep to ford; the method therefore
was adopted of bending down the boughs of the largest shrubs upon the
banks, thus forming a fragile bridge, over which, by dint of caution,
we contrived to make our tottering way without the misadventure, only
too probable, of losing our balance. The Kishy speeds swiftly along
over the level steppe in the Babuckur country, and, after receiving the
Bodumoh, contributes materially to the volume of the Sway, which in
that region has already assumed the dimensions of a considerable river.

The country beyond the Kishy retained the same character as that along
which we had been passing. By the side of a little spring called
Nambia, that went rippling between the bare gneiss flats, we made a
halt for the purpose of following up some guinea-fowl, of which the
notes could be heard at no great distance; the whole district teemed
with these birds, and I could now again anticipate a daily meal such as
I had not had for months.

Hidden deep amongst the long thick grass I here found an aloe, of which
the blossoms were of a greenish cast; it was a plant that except to an
eye keenly looking for botanical rarities would have been overlooked
entirely.

Whilst we were making our halt, I was surprised by a visit from
Merdyan, the local chief; he had heard of my arrival, and, accompanied
by several natives, he had now come to give me welcome. Merdyan was
one of Mohammed’s black body-guard, and had been entrusted with the
supervision of the eastern frontier of his territory; with three guns
at his disposal, he had been appointed to the command of a little
Seriba surrounded with fine fields of maize, which were bounded by a
ravine watered by a copious brook. To reach this settlement we had
to retrace our steps for a full league along a road that gradually
descended through a cultivated country. A fine prospect lay open before
us; upon the south-eastern horizon rose the imposing mass of Mount
Baginze, and a little to the north a pointed hill called Damvo. On this
day’s march we accomplished a distance of about eight leagues; towards
the close of it we came to one of the groves of Encephalartus, which
are scattered about the district, and known amongst the Niam-niam as
Mvooeh-piah.

[Sidenote: NIAM-NIAM FOOD.]

We enjoyed very comfortable accommodation in Merdyan’s Seriba; the huts
were clean and well-built, and I had an opportunity of renewing my
observations on the domestic arrangements of the Niam-niam. A delicacy
to which I had long been unaccustomed was provided for me in some fresh
ears of maize, and corn was not wanting for all my people. There were
two things, however, which could not be obtained. We had neither salt
nor any kind of oil or grease. Riharn, having lost his proficiency,
seemed to be now losing his memory; he had quite forgotten to bring
the salt that would be required on our way, and the little grease that
could be procured had far too much the suspicion of being mixed with
human fat to make it in any way a desirable adjunct to my dishes. Our
own supply of butter had been left behind intentionally, as it would
be required during our coming journey to the north. Whatever food the
natives offered to my people, even to my negroes, only filled them
with horror and disgust. Amongst many others who came to the Seriba
to satisfy their curiosity about me, there was one fat old man who
had his wallet full of victuals hanging to his side, without which no
Niam-niam ever quits his home. My little Bongo, Allagabo, spying out
two tempting little brown paws, like those of a roast sucking-pig,
projecting from the bag, was inquisitive enough to peep in to make a
closer investigation of the contents. He got a sharp cuffing for his
pains, but he was not likely to have been much tempted, as the delicacy
in question turned out to be a roast dog! At another time, my Niam-niam
interpreter, Gyabir, who was here in the full enjoyment of his native
food, offered Allagabo a dish of lugma (corn-pap), in which were
some fragments of flesh that looked like the limbs of a little bird;
but Allagabo’s disgust can be better imagined than described when he
discovered he was eating the legs of a frog!

I spent one day with Merdyan for the purpose of inspecting the
neighbourhood, and in the course of my rambles I bagged enough
guinea-fowl to supply my whole retinue. For the first time, too, I
killed a black rhinoceros-bird (_Tetmoceras abyssinicus_). I had
previously seen these birds in the Seribas in Bongoland, where they
are so far tamed that they strut about fearlessly amongst the other
denizens of the poultry-yard.

As I was returning in the evening I was witness of a circumstance that
I imagine very rarely could be seen. In the twilight two great forms
rushed past us, and were so close upon us that we involuntarily started
on one side; the pursuit was so hot that neither of the two animals
seemed to be aware of our presence, as in a few seconds they doubled
and rushed by us for a second time. My people persisted in saying that
it was a hyæna chasing an antelope; but as I was aware that a hyæna
seldom hunts down any living prey, I was unconvinced, and went early
on the following morning to investigate the traces that were left.
On arriving at the spot I found that the assertion of my attendants
had been correct, and that the footmarks were undoubtedly those of a
spotted hyæna and a hartebeest; the tracks were deep and multifold, and
testified to the violence of the pursuit.

The spotted hyæna (_H. crocuta_) is somewhat rare so deep in the
interior of the continent, and even in the cattle-countries of the
Dinka it can hardly be said to be common. It is probably driven,
through lack of carrion left by the lion, to seek for its subsistence
by chasing living prey. This species is far more savage, as well as
more powerful, than the striped hyæna of the northern deserts, and
appears to be distributed over the whole of Africa below the latitude
of 17° N. The skins are frequently used by the Niam-niam for aprons;
they exhibit a great variety of markings and differ considerably in
colour, the spots being sometimes light and indistinct, sometimes, on
the contrary, dark and well-defined. The reports of the Niam-niam refer
to two species, one large and one small, as being found in their land;
the smaller kind being probably the variegated hyæna observed by Speke
upon the eastern coast, and apparently a cross between the spotted and
the striped.

[Sidenote: BEWILDERING PATH.]

The route from Merdyan’s Seriba to Tuhamy’s was through an uninhabited
district, and was crossed by so many streams that it was quite a matter
of difficulty to determine it. Merdyan undertook to provide me with
guides, if I desired it; but as any intercourse between the two Seribas
was exceedingly rare, and as I heard a long and loud discussion, before
we started, as to which was the right direction, I could not place
much reliance upon my conductors. The country through which we had
to pass was perfectly flat; the trees, too, were frequently so high
and the paths were so narrow that we were unable to get a glimpse of
either of the two mountains which we had previously observed from
the high ground on the west. Neither of these mountains could be much
more than seven leagues distant. The ignorance of our guides caused us
considerable embarrassment; We were in continual dread of encroaching
upon the adjacent territory of the hostile Babuckur, where we should be
entirely at the mercy of the cannibal tribe.

On leaving the Seriba we followed the eastward course of a little brook
named the Nakemaka. We kept beside it until it reached the spot where
it joined the larger stream called the Mahbodey, which we crossed
by our previous method of bending down the pendant branches of the
overhanging bushes, and then hopping like birds from branch to branch
as best we could. All these affluents of the Upper Sway inclined to
the north; all of them, moreover, had a marked descent. The next of
them was known as the Meiwah, and about a league beyond we came to the
actual mainstream of the Sway, which was here thirty feet in width, and
really wider than the united measurements of the two streams above;
such of them as we did not cross by our improvised bridges we had to
pass by swimming.

After a while we came to a large forest of butter-trees, the first
and last that I saw in the country of the Niam-niam. The underwood
was so dense, and its foliage so fully developed, that we could not
see more than ten paces in any direction; our guides completely lost
their way, and, without a clue to our proper path, we wandered on. To
add to our perplexity the sky became overcast with the tokens of an
approaching storm, and we thus lost whatever aid we might have got
from the direction of the shadows. With a vista contracted as ours
the compass was of little service, and in a country like this it was
very unadvisable to leave the beaten paths or to penetrate into any
untried thickets. We were glad enough when we at last caught sight of
two deserted huts in the middle of the wilderness. The floods of rain
were beginning to descend, and we were thankful for any shelter. The
storm that had burst upon us continued with such unremitted violence
that we were compelled to resign ourselves to the necessity of passing
the night in this wild spot. The interior of the huts swarmed with
creeping things of the most revolting character, in comparison with
which the most obnoxious vermin that are ever found in houses within
the range of civilization would appear mere mild and insignificant
domestic nuisances. By heaping up a pile of fresh leaves and grass, I
contrived a sort of covering that protected me from actual contact with
the crawling things, but the lullaby that buzzed and hummed around me
was none of the pleasantest. There were the swarms of white ants that
were incessantly gnawing and scratching at my leafy coverlet; there
were snakes and lizards rustling in the cobwebbed thatch above: there
were mice scampering and squeaking on the ground below. However, for
the condition of things there was no help: the best must be made of it;
so I shut my ears to the commotion, and resigned myself successfully to
the blissful unconsciousness of slumber.

When I awoke at dawn the rain was still falling, the heavy drops
pattering down like lead upon the leathery leaves of the butter-trees.
Hungry and shivering, I sat upon my grass couch and peered out through
the narrow doorway into the obscurity of the thickets, where I could
see the broad backs of my negroes as they grubbed away with all their
might, defiant of the storm, in the hopes of getting something from
among the roots to appease their craving. Hunger at last compelled us
to brave the weather, and to take our chance at proceeding. We directed
our movements at starting towards some mounds of gneiss, that at a
little distance we could see picturesquely rising above the trees.
Our intention at first was to ascend these elevations, that we might
make a better survey of the land around us; but we were spared the
necessity of climbing up them, as on reaching their base we fell into
a well-defined path which we did not hesitate to follow. It led us to
the brook Shöby, and shortly afterwards to some human habitations.

[Sidenote: TUHAMY’S SERIBA.]

Our arrival made no little stir among the natives, who had received
no intelligence of the presence of a white man in that part of the
country, and at first they were inclined to suspect that we must have
come with hostile intentions. My Niam-niam, however, soon reassured
them, and induced them to provide us with guides for our route. They
led us out in an easterly direction, passing through a country that
was fairly cultivated, and along which the numbers of guinea-fowl were
so large that they kept me fully employed during the march. We had
now only one more brook to pass, which was called the Mossulongoo,
and this we accomplished in such good time that it was still daylight
when we reached the Seriba of Tuhamy. Amongst the inmates of the
Seriba my servants recognised several of their former acquaintances
at Khartoom, and very enthusiastic were the greetings that were
mutually exchanged. The controller of the Seriba received me with
the most cordial hospitality, and cleared out his best hut for my
accommodation. The hut was enclosed with a high palisade, which gave
it an additional protection. The controller’s superior and principal
in Khartoom was a personage no less important than the chief writer of
the _Hokkumdarieh_; and this influential authority had in the previous
year given instructions to his subordinate that he was to show me every
possible attention if I should chance to pay him a visit.

The Seriba was a halting-place for Tuhamy’s ivory expeditions from
the Rohl to the Monbuttoo country. Situated as it was on the extreme
eastern limit of the Niam-niam territory, it formed an outpost towards
the Babuckur land, which Tuhamy’s companies were accustomed to consider
as their corn magazines, and on which they relied for their supplies to
carry them onwards to the south. But the Babuckur were already wearied
by the depredations to which they were thus continually exposed; their
impatience made them desperate and exasperated; and a very few days
after my departure they made an attack upon the Seriba, burnt it to
the ground, and compelled the inhabitants to evacuate the place. Many
Nubians as well as many Niam-niam lost their lives in the engagement,
and the few that escaped had to make their way to the nearest Seriba,
which was that established in Mondoo, at the distance of a long day’s
journey, situated amongst the Zileï mountains, of which the spurs and
projecting terraces were visible on the eastern horizon. Subsequently
to this, all Tuhamy’s settlements passed by a special contract into the
hands of Ghattas’s son.

The brook upon which the Seriba was situated was called the Annighei.
The chieftain in command of the Niam-niam in the district had formerly
been independent, but had been deprived of his authority by Tuhamy’s
companies. His name was Indimma, and he was one of the numerous sons
of Renje, but not to be confounded with the powerful chief of the same
name, who was a son of Keefa. He came now to offer me his welcome,
and communicated to me many interesting details about the surrounding
country.

I made a little excursion to an elevation of gneiss a few miles to the
east of the Seriba, so as to gain a point from which I might survey the
surrounding mountains and make some observations to verify the position
of the various peaks. The detached ranges for the most part were
situated from ten to fifteen leagues from the site I had chosen for my
survey, and I should imagine their height to vary from 4000 to 5000
feet above the level of the sea. All those who were capable of giving
me any information at all upon the subject agreed in representing that
the entire district was distinguished as Mundo or Mondoo, and that the
principal chain of hills was called Mbia Zileï; also that at the foot
of the mountains was the village of Bedelly, the native local overseer,
close to which was another Seriba belonging to Tuhamy. Between me and
the mountains flowed the river Issoo, a stream which I was assured was
at this season fifty feet broad, and so deep that whoever attempted to
ford it would be immersed up to the neck. The entire region was rich
in corn, especially in sorghum. Several hundred bearers laden with it
arrived during my stay at the Seriba, and I took the opportunity of
laying in a stock for myself; it is difficult to obtain sorghum in the
Niam-niam countries, and it was long since I had had grain of such a
superior quality.

All the Niam-niam of whom I was able to make inquiries assured me that
the natives of Mundo are a distinct people, differing from themselves
both in habits and in dialect; their precise ethnographical position I
could never determine, but I should presume that they approximate most
nearly to their Mittoo neighbours on the north, and more especially to
the Loobah and Abakah.

[Sidenote: MONDOO.]

This Mundo or Mondoo is not to be confounded with the Mundo to the
south of the Bongo, which Petherick reports that he visited in February
1858; it is the name of the western enclave of the scattered Babuckur.
But the Mundo of which I am speaking is marked upon the map by Peney,
who in 1861 penetrated westwards from Gondokoro as far as the Ayi or
Yei; Petherick too has inserted the district upon his map,[53] under
the name of the Makaraka mountains, and has assigned it to exactly
the same locality as I have myself done. In spite of Petherick’s
protestation, many geographers have made the two Mundos identical, and
have thus fallen into the not unnatural conjecture that the Yei is the
upper course of the Dyoor, a conjecture of which my journey has fully
demonstrated the fallacy.

The Issoo, as the upper course of the Tondy is here called, forms the
western boundary of this mountainous district; along the south and
far to the east (probably as far as the source-regions of the Yei)
there stretches an offshoot of the Niam-niam territory. This section
of the Niam-niam is called Idderoh, and is subject to an independent
chieftain, a brother of Indimma’s, named Bingio, who had formerly been
an interpreter in Petherick’s station in Neangara. The river that
waters his district is called the Nzoro. On all maps this territory of
the Idderoh figures as Makkarakka; but, as I have observed, this is
merely a collective name given to the Niam-niam by their neighbours on
the east.

We had a day’s rest in the hospitable Seriba, and were well entertained
with meat and vegetables. The neighbourhood was interesting, and
yielded several novelties for my collection. One very brilliant
ornament of the woods at this season, which I had never seen in greater
abundance, was the Abyssinian Protea, a shrub about four or five feet
high, with great rosy heads like our garden peony. Another plant, one
of the Araliaceæ, the Cussonia, which is usually only a low shrub,
here attained quite the dimensions of a tree, and its fan-shaped
foliage crowned a stem little less than thirty feet in height. In the
damp grass near the brooks flourished a number of ground orchids with
remarkably fine blossoms.

A yet richer booty, however, was in store for me. A few miles to the
south of the Seriba, jutting up like an island from the surrounding
plain, and visible from afar, rose the massy heights of Mount
Baginze. There I did not doubt I should realize the fruition of many
expectations.

We started upon the 27th, under the escort of a small body of native
soldiers, from the Seriba. Gyabir was in the best of spirits. He had
just achieved a great object of his desire in attaining a wife. The
controller of the Seriba had a large number of slaves, and as one more
or one less made no appreciable difference to him, he had presented
Gyabir with a young girl of the Loobah tribe. My interpreter had long
been desirous of securing a partner of his lot, and had many times
solicited both Mohammed and Surroor to procure him a consort, but
hitherto his request had been made in vain. It is not an easy matter
for a man without some means to get married in Africa: if he negotiates
for himself he has to satisfy the demands of the bride’s father; but by
applying to the controller or ruler of the district, who can exercise
an absolute authority in these matters, he may succeed in obtaining a
wife without previously paying down any sum by way of compensation.

[Sidenote: MOUNT BAGINZE.]

We marched for about two leagues in a west and south-west direction,
and once again crossed the little brooks that the Sway receives on
its right-hand bank; at length we reached the pointed gneiss mound
called Damvo, which rises about 200 feet above the level of the plain.
I mounted the eminence, so as to employ its summit as the second
station for my observations of the mountain chains. The rugged rocks
were clothed with Sanseviera, and to the very top charming shrubs made
good their way from between their clefts. The view was magnificent. It
was the first mountainous landscape that I had seen during my journey
that exhibited the true characteristics of African orography. All
around were elevations, more or less conspicuous, rising like bastions
isolated on the plain; whilst high over all reared the crest of Mount
Baginze. The western side of the mountain was precipitous, and might
almost be described as perpendicular; towards the north, on the other
hand, it sloped downwards in gradual ridges: in form it reminded me of
many of the isolated mountains of Southern Nubia, and more especially
of those in the province of Taka.

Mount Baginze is only four miles to the S.S.E. of Damvo, but this
short distance had to be accomplished by a circuitous and troublesome
route leading across deep fissures and masses of loose rock, and often
through grass of enormous height; half-way we came to a rapid brook
hastening along through a deep cleft, which we were able to leap
across. This was _the source of the Dyoor_. It was the first actual
source of any of the more important affluents of the White Nile to
which any European traveller had ever penetrated. My Niam-niam escort,
who were natives of the district, positively asserted that this
brooklet was the Sway, and thus plainly demonstrated that, however
insignificant this little vein of running water might appear, they were
accustomed to consider it as the highest section of the waters that
contributed to the formation of the Dyoor. The Sway, they said, was the
largest and longest river of their land; Baginze was their loftiest
mountain; and this was the most important stream that issued from its
clefts.

Before actually setting foot upon Baginze we had still to make an
ascent through a fine forest, but in due time we reached the mountain
and made our encampment close beneath the perpendicular wall of the
western flank. The halting-place was upon the edge of a deep ravine,
where a bright thread of water rippled merrily along over rocks covered
with moss and graceful ferns. It was too late in the day to attempt to
ascend farther than to the summit of a sloping spur projecting towards
the north-west from the southern side of the mountain, and which was
about half the height of the mountain itself.

The first few steps that I took were quite enough to convince me of the
entire accordance of the flora with that of the Abyssinian highlands.
Masses of brilliant aloes, with their scarlet and yellow blossoms,
grew luxuriantly upon the slopes of gneiss; the intervals between them
were overspread with a mossy carpet of _Selaginella rupestris_, whilst
clusters of blue lobelia reared themselves like violets, only of a
brighter hue, from the surface of the soil. Here and there, in singular
contrast to the tender foliage of the shady hollows, lending moreover a
new and striking character to the vegetation, I found, cropping up from
amidst the rocks, the thick fleshy leaves of that remarkable orchid,
the Eulophia; and on the still higher declivities I met with yet
another true representative of the Abyssinian flora in a new species of
Hymenodictyon, a dwarf tree of the class of the Rubiaceæ, which in some
form or other appear to embrace at least a tenth of all the plants of
Africa in these regions.

[Sidenote: WILD AFRICAN PLANTAINS.]

Wherever one of the bright bubbling streams was seen, like a shining
thread upon the grey monotony of the rocks, there I was pretty sure to
find the Ensete, or wild African plantain. This is a plant which is
never seen below an altitude of 3000 feet above the sea. It was now to
be observed in every stage of its growth, sometimes being small like
the head of a cabbage, and sometimes running out to a length of twenty
feet with its fruit attached to a short thick stem in the form of an
onion. The tender leaves were marked with a midrib of purple-red. It
struck me that here in the wilderness this plant, which has become
so common a favourite in our greenhouses, is distinguished by a much
shorter leaf-stem and by a more compact appearance than it bears in
its cultivated form when its growth is spreading and graceful. Not
unfrequently the Ensete of the mountains bore a striking resemblance
to young specimens of the _Musa sapientium_, though it exceeded it in
the number of the leaves it bore, there being occasionally as many as
forty on a single plant. I found it here in full bloom, but without any
prospect of fruit; it differs from other representatives of its class
by losing its leaves at the time of its flowering, and then has the
appearance of an elongated onion on a shaft some six or eight feet in
length, on the top of which rests a compact truss of bloom. Although I
never observed any side sprouts from the wild Ensete, it by no means
follows that they are never to be seen: a single authenticated instance
of the kind would demonstrate almost beyond a doubt what is already
in so many respects probable, namely, that the Ensete is the original
stock of the cultivated African plantain.

We had quickly improvised some huts from the long grass at the foot of
the mountain, and they afforded us secure and sufficiently comfortable
shelter from the downpour of rain that lasted throughout the night. On
the following morning I was disappointed to find that the sky was still
burdened with storm-clouds, whilst a fine, drizzling mist obscured the
greater part of the view that we had proved to be so lovely.

My sojourn in the neighbourhood was limited to a single day, since the
Seriba was suffering from the general dearth of provisions, and could
ill afford to entertain us: there was consequently no help for it,
but if the ascent of the mountain were made at all it must be made in
defiance of the heavy rain. I was quite aware that the adverse weather
would make the task altogether uncongenial to my guides, and I was not
very much surprised to find that they had made off during the night.
I had thus to start off on my own responsibility. My Nubian servants
remained behind to warm their shivering limbs over the camp-fires, so
that, followed only by my two Niam-niam, carrying the portfolios for my
plants, I set out upon my enterprise.

I turned towards the northern declivity, which slanted in almost
an unbroken line from the summit to the base. At first my view was
necessarily circumscribed, and it was only after a good deal of
clambering and by a very circuitous route along rugged places, overhung
with bushes, and across fissures full of water, that I succeeded in
finding the correct path. The wind was so strong that although my broad
hat was weighted with pebbles I was obliged to leave it below. The
highest point of the ridge I found to be at the south of the summit,
and thence I had a magnificent prospect, being able to see for fifty
or sixty miles in an east and north-east direction. Not far short
of a hundred different mountain-peaks were visible, and of these I
took measurements of the angles between the more important, which I
subsequently combined with the angles which I had already observed. I
also made a drawing of the entire panorama around me.

The upper course of the Tondy was plainly visible, and beyond it were
caught the terraced ridges of the country to the east. The northern
and eastern spurs of Baginze were especially picturesque; the elevated
level of the ground at the base was not apparent from above, so that
they stood out like isolated eminences from a uniform plain: three more
spurs a few miles to the south-east also appeared completely detached:
they were in a straight line one behind another, the names of the two
most northerly being Bonduppa and Nagongoh. Somewhere near them was
a Seriba belonging to Poncet’s company, who had reduced the former
independent chieftain Bendo (another of the many sons of Renje) to the
same state of submission as Tuhamy’s company had brought his brother
Indimma.

[Sidenote: ALTITUDE OF MOUNT BAGINZE.]

The measurement that I took upon the spot gave Baginze a relative
height of 1350 feet; but the barometrical observations made at the
base, which would have determined its exact altitude above the level of
the sea, have unfortunately been lost; I believe, however, that I am
not far wrong in estimating the entire height to be about 3900 feet.

The bulk of the rock of which the mountain was composed consisted of
a gneiss that was so abundant in mica that in many places it had the
appearance of being actual mica schist; a speciality in its formation
being the immense number of cyanite crystals that pervaded it in all
directions: a similar conglomeration of “cyanite gneiss” is very rare,
but amongst other places it may be observed on Mount St. Gotthard in
Switzerland. Wherever the springs issued at the foot of the mountain
there were wide boulder-flats of broken stones, and here the sheets of
mica and the prisms of cyanite, an inch or two in length, lay cleanly
washed and strewn one upon another in such thick confusion that I had
to wade through them as through a pile of rubbish. I collected several
specimens of the rock, which I brought to Europe.

Massive in its grandeur, isolated, and worn by time, Mount Baginze thus
stood before me as a witness of a former era in the world’s history and
as a remnant of the lofty mountain-chain which must have once formed
the southern boundary of the Nile district.

There was an entire absence of large trees everywhere, and the higher
regions of the mountain bore but a very scanty vegetation. Contented,
however, with the few botanical discoveries that the toilsome trip had
yielded, I began to think of returning. It had taken me four hours to
make the ascent of the mountain, but being now aware of the correct
path, a single hour was all I spent in getting back to our encampment.
In spite of the unpropitious weather I felt that I could have enjoyed
myself for some days in exploring this enticing neighbourhood: the
mountain air was even fresher and more invigorating than what I had
been breathing in the Niam-niam country—and this is saying not a
little; for, in spite of their meagre diet, the Nubian soldiers who
came thither sickly and weakened by their idle Seriba-life always
returned from their Niam-niam campaigns fat and healthy, and with
renewed strength and vigour. My attendants unfortunately did not
sympathise with my ideal enjoyments, but made such loud and bitter
complaints at the increasing inclemency of the weather that I should
not have dared to prolong my stay, even if I could.

On the third morning, then, after our arrival we began to return.
Although continually in doubt as to our path, we were fortunate in
hitting upon the route that was shortest, and, crossing the Shöby at
a spot where it was contracted by gneiss walls and made a bend to the
north, we reached the rocks in the forest of butter-trees at which so
recently we had passed such a wretched night. Before it was dark we
once more entered Merdyan’s Seriba. The long march of nine hours, made
doubly arduous by the many watercourses that had intercepted it, had
been one of the most fatiguing that I had experienced. I took a day’s
rest, and amused myself by shooting guinea-fowl, the sport being so
successful that I supplied my people with as many of the birds as they
could eat in two days. We performed the rest of our journey through
incessant rain, and on the evening of the 1st of June found ourselves
reinstated in the old Seriba on the Nabambisso.

[Sidenote: TIDINGS FROM MOHAMMED.]

Here I received satisfactory intelligence from Mohammed. The condition
of things had decidedly improved. Still the store of corn was small;
but the gourds had ripened during our absence, fresh maize had been
brought to the Seriba, and, best of all, the guinea-fowl had effected
a lodgment in the neighbourhood, so that we had a constant supply of
animal food ready at hand. As a consequence of the continual rains
edible funguses had sprung up in such abundance that for days together
I dined off guinea-fowl’s liver and mushrooms. In every respect the
mushrooms resembled those which we use in Europe.

I may mention that a large buffalo-hunt, to which all the Bongo were
invited, came in as a timely diversion, and that day after day, with my
gun in my hand, I was up and doing.

Before many days had elapsed the main body of Mohammed’s corps
returned from their campaign. Only a portion of the missing ivory
had been recovered, for Wando, under a superstitious dread of the
intimations of his augury, had persistently remained concealed in the
most inaccessible places, and consequently the hostilities had been
mainly directed against his brother Mbeeoh. Contrary to the general
practice of the Niam-niam princes, Mbeeoh had been personally engaged
in the conflict and had exhibited remarkable bravery. On one occasion
it had been with the greatest difficulty that Mohammed had held his
own against the hordes of his opponent, and in a raging storm had
been obliged to erect a kind of rampart, made of straw, to afford a
shelter from which anything like a steady fire might be opened upon the
assailants. The chances were dead against Mohammed’s side, but it is
notorious that the natives hardly ever follow up any advantages offered
to them either by a downpour of rain or by the obscurity of night;
and very frequently they lost the most promising of opportunities for
crushing their Nubian oppressors.

[Sidenote: MISSING MEN.]

Just before Mohammed himself returned there was a considerable
commotion amongst our Bongo bearers. A circumstance occurred that
naturally excited some consternation. The bearers who had been
left with me in the old Seriba were in the habit of scouring the
neighbouring fields and forests every day in search of victuals for
themselves. One evening three of the party who had gone out did not
return, and their companions had no hesitation in avowing their belief
that they had been captured, and that they would most certainly be
killed and eaten by the inhabitants of the adjacent district. Early
on the following morning all the Bongo and most of the Nubians who
were with me started off in a body to explore the neighbourhood and to
follow up as best they might the traces of the missing men. According
to the statements of the Bongo, the crime had been committed in the
district under the control of Maddah, to the north of the Seriba.
In that direction the party bent their steps. Their supposition was
apparently correct, for after following the tracks into a wood they
found that they terminated in a ghastly pool of blood. Maddah was
forthwith seized and hurried to the Seriba, where he was charged
with being answerable for the disappearance of the men. In evident
confusion and with much excitement he began a long and incoherent
preamble; he declared that the blood was that of an animal which had
been slaughtered on the previous day; he owned, indeed, about the three
Bongo that he had seen them running across his territory and had had
no doubt that they were making an escape to their own homes. This
explanation was objected to on the ground that the obstacles on the way
were far too great for them ever to have entertained such a design.
Maddah then went on to say that some of his Niam-niam people had
noticed the fugitives, and had shouted after them to know where they
were rushing to, and why they were scampering along at such a pace,
but they had received no answer; and deeming it wrong to stand idly by
and let the fellows decamp from their owners they had not only pursued
them, but had effected their capture and put them into safe custody. To
complete his tale he affirmed that, somehow or other, during the night
they had contrived to escape; and this was all he knew about them.

The settlement of the business had ultimately to be left to the
surviving Bongo. They were not easily satisfied; they insisted most
strenuously that, even allowing that there might be some truth in the
statement that the Niam-niam had pursued the fugitives, they had only
done so with the object of sacrificing them in order to indulge their
appetites, and to convert their flesh into food. The representation
which Maddah gave of the pool of blood was held to be especially
unsatisfactory; the bones of the slaughtered animal were demanded as
a proof of the fact, but nothing was forthcoming at the hands of the
Niam-niam but a few fragments that could be recognised at a glance
as belonging to some game that must have been killed months before.
Everything, in fact, seemed to confirm the accusation. All agreed
that there was nothing to exonerate either Maddah or his people from
suspicion. It was consequently decided that as Surroor, the lieutenant
in command, was absent, as well as Mohammed, on the campaign, Maddah
should be reserved for judgment, and meanwhile must be kept in
confinement and placed under the yoke of the sheyba to await his
sentence.

But when Mohammed returned he professed to be occupied by more pressing
and important business. It did not require much penetration to perceive
that there were certain motives of policy which were prompting him
to procrastinate the investigation of the affair. The truth was he
was anxious, if he could, to keep on good terms with the Niam-niam,
knowing that their services were indispensable to him for the usual
raid against the Babuckur that had to be undertaken for the purpose
of getting a supply of corn to avert the prospect of his caravan
being starved. Without their co-operation it would be impossible for
his soldiers to cross the marshy swamps. Had the disaster befallen
any of the Nubians or Mussulmen at all, there can be no doubt that
Mohammed would have acted very differently, and would not have suffered
considerations of policy to deter him from making an example of the
delinquents.

The raid upon the Babuckur was an expedition that Mohammed did not
accompany in person. He entrusted it entirely to Surroor, who took the
charge of as many of the subordinate Niam-niam as could be gathered.
Just as might be expected, the most savage brutalities were practised
on either side. Besides securing the store of corn, which was the main
object of the incursion, the Nubians were on the look-out for a capture
of female slaves, which they claimed as their special perquisite. The
Niam-niam on their part followed the example and did some private
kidnapping on their own account; the females that they entrapped they
disposed of in the following way: the youngest were destined for their
houses, the middle-aged for their agriculture, and the eldest for their
caldrons!

The skulls in the Anatomical Museum of Berlin that are numbered 36,
37, and 38 might be supposed capable of unfolding a deplorable tale of
these depredations. Some natives brought them to me fresh boiled, only
a few days after the raid had been perpetrated; they had heard from
the Monbuttoo that I was accustomed to give rings of copper in exchange
for skulls, and as I was not able to bring the poor fellows to life
again I saw no reason why I should not purchase their remains in the
interests of science. Often I reproached the Nubians of my retinue with
allowing such abuses to go on before their eyes, and under the sanction
of the flag bearing the insignia of the Holy Prophet; but just as often
I received the answer that the Faithful were incompetent to change
anything, but must submit to the will of God; it was impressed upon me
that the Niam-niam were heathen, and that if the heathen liked to eat
each other up, it was no concern of theirs; they had no right to be
lawgivers or teachers to cannibals.

[Sidenote: MOHAMMEDAN CONVERSION.]

I had repeated opportunities of observing that the ivory-expeditions of
the Khartoomers, although actuated by a certain spirit of enterprise,
did not at all contribute to any propagation of Islamism. Negro
nations once converted to Mohammedanism are no longer considered
as slaves, but are esteemed as brothers. For this reason it was
inexplicable to me how Islamism had spread so far in other parts of
Central Africa; for although, on the one hand, Islamism is a faith
that puts a pressure upon its converts by compelling them to submit to
its external prescriptions, such as circumcision; yet, on the other
hand, the very conforming to the prescriptions exempts them for ever
from all oppression: thus I could not understand why in other parts of
the continent the more powerful party had not maintained its material
interests by displaying the same indifference as was shown by the
Mohammedans in the countries through which I travelled.

Some days after the raid on the Babuckur I was witness of a scene that
can never be erased from my memory. During one of my rambles I found
myself in one of the native farmsteads; before the door of the first
hut I came to, an old woman was sitting surrounded by a group of boys
and girls, all busily employed in cutting up gourds and preparing
them for eating; at the door of the opposite hut a man was sitting
composedly playing upon his mandolin. Midway between the two huts a mat
was outspread; upon this mat, exposed to the full glare of the noon-day
sun, feebly gasping, lay a new-born infant: I doubt whether it was more
than a day old. In answer to my inquiries I learnt that the child was
the offspring of one of the slaves who had been captured in the late
raid, and who had now been driven off to a distant quarter, compelled
to leave her infant behind, because its nurture would interfere with
her properly fulfilling her domestic duties. The ill-fated little
creature, doomed to so transient an existence, was destined to form a
dainty dish; and the savage group was calmly engaged in their ordinary
occupations until the poor little thing should have breathed its last
and be ready to be consigned to the seething caldron! I profess that
for a moment I was furious. I felt ready to shoot the old hag who sat
by without displaying a particle of pity or concern. I was prompted to
do something rash to give vent to my sensation of abhorrence; but I
was swayed by the protestations of the Nubians ringing in my ears that
they were powerless in the matter, and that they had not come to be
lawgivers to the Niam-niam. I felt that I was as helpless as they were,
and that it would be folly for me to forget how dependent I was upon
them. What influence, I was constrained to ask, could my interference
have exercised, what could any exhibition of my disgust and indignation
avail to check the bias of an entire nation? Missionaries, in their
enthusiasm, might find a fruitful field for their labours, but they
must be very self-denying and very courageous.

The departure of the caravan for the north was delayed for several days
in expectation of the return of the corps that had been sent to the
west with Ghattas’s company, but as no tidings of it were forthcoming
we determined, without further procrastination, to proceed upon our
way.

Shut out from all prospect of this year making any farther progress
to the south, and debarred from the hope of accomplishing any fresh
explorations, I own that I began to long for the flesh-pots of Egypt;
I confess that the stores that were on their way from Khartoom to
await me in my old quarters at the Seriba in Bongoland had a wondrous
fascination to my eager imagination. I was also now looking forward
that I might make several excursions during the return journey, from
which I was sanguine that I might not only make fresh botanical
discoveries, but might enlarge my general knowledge of the country.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER HOO.]

Our first night-camp was made on the northern frontier of Aboo Sammat’s
territory, on the banks of a brook near the hamlets of Kulenjo. Until
we reached the Hoo we observed no alteration in the condition of the
brooks; but the galleries which I was now traversing for the last
time seemed in bidding me farewell to have donned their most festal
covering, being resplendent with the luxuriant blooms of the Spathadeæ,
one of the most imposing representatives of the African flora. The
waters of the Hoo had risen to no inconsiderable degree, and they had
so much increased in breadth that they filled the whole of the level
bed, which was 35 feet in width. The current flowed at the rate of 150
feet a minute, the water being nowhere more than 3½ feet deep. Our
second night-camp was pitched half-way between the Hoo and the Sway, at
a spot where the bush-forest was densest and most luxuriant.

The advancing season brought several changes in our mode of living. I
had become so far initiated into African habits, that I now very much
preferred a grass hut to a tent. I was moreover getting somewhat out of
patience with the ever-recurring necessity of holding up the tent-pole
with all my strength during the storms of night, whilst I roused half
the camp with my shouts for assistance. At the height of the rainy
season the weather, by a beneficent arrangement of Nature, fortunately
follows certain rules from which it deviates very exceptionally; the
first few hours of the morning always decided the programme for the
day; when once the sky had cleared, we knew that we might resume our
march in perfect confidence, and I had the satisfaction of feeling
that my papers and herbarium were in no danger of being spoilt by
damp, and my companions had the same security for the preservation
of their powder and provisions. Towards five in the afternoon, when
the sun began to sink, and the distant thunder gave warning of the
renewing of the storm, we made a halt, and directed our best attention
to prepare our nightly lodging in the wilderness. The baggage was
first piled together and protected by the waterproofs, and as soon as
this was effected, a number of knives and hatchets were produced and
distributed among the “builders.” Off they were sent with all despatch.
“Now, you fellows, quick to your work. Four of you,” I should order my
servants, “must be brisk, and get together the grass. _You_ two must
hack me down the branches, long and strong, and be sharp about it. No
shirking now. And _you_ have to get the bast. Quick, away! and quick
back!” And with this hurrying and driving the work was soon done. Ten
minutes, or a little more, brought the men back with the requisite
materials. The framework was first erected, the forked boughs being
driven into the ground and firmly fastened at the top with ligatures
of bast; meanwhile the grass was being bandaged into a huge hollow
sheaf, and this, when all was ready, was raised above the structure
and fitted like a cap. Thus, in about half an hour, with alacrity, one
of these grass huts could be reared, small indeed, and snug as a nest,
but nevertheless perfectly waterproof; and thus a sufficient shelter
against the nightly rains. The storm might rage and the thunder roll
without, but here the weary traveller, in safe and reliable retreat,
might enjoy his well-earned repose without misgiving. By the glimmer
of a little oil-lamp of my own contrivance, in which I burnt some
questionable-looking grease, of which the smell could not fail to
rouse up one’s worst suspicions against the natives, I would sit and
beguile the hours of the evening as best I could by writing down the
experiences of the day. The negroes had no such protection: they would
crouch round the camp-fire, which would make their faces glow again
with its fitful light, while the rain would pelt pitilessly down upon
their backs.

Such was the arrangement of our camp night after night throughout our
return journey. But my recollections of the nights spent on the way
between the Hoo and the Sway are altogether very unpleasant.

[Sidenote: AN INVASION OF ANTS.]

The rain on the following morning did not cease so soon as usual,
and our departure was somewhat delayed. We were all of us intensely
interested in keeping our own little dry spot free from the drenching
force of the rain, when all at once I found my cosy quarters invaded
by a whole army of ants. They had succeeded in discovering the driest
and warmest place within a circuit of many miles, and now, in countless
legions, they took up their quarters in my palliass, which was placed
upon a lofty pile of leaves and grass. Their encroachments seemed to
come from every side. For a long time I was in perplexity what to do;
to leave my hut was impossible, the rain was falling almost in sheets.
I endeavoured to protect myself with my clothes, but all in vain.
Presently a stratagem suggested itself to my mind; by a happy thought
I managed to divert the ants from myself. Dragging some bundles of
grass from my bed, I threw them down in detached patches all over the
floor, and by way of bait I sprinkled them over with the fragments of
food that remained from the supper of the previous night. The scheme
answered admirably, and I had the satisfaction of finding the unwelcome
guests draw themselves away and give me no more personal annoyance.

Meanwhile a large portion of our caravan had gone on in advance to
make the necessary preparations for crossing the Sway. I did not reach
the banks myself until nearly noon, and by that time the people were
busily employed in conveying the baggage across. The aspect of the Sway
was entirely different to what it had been on the 13th of February.
The water had risen to the very top of the banks, and was twenty feet
deep, with a velocity of two hundred feet a minute. Although the stream
was only thirty-five feet wide, the passage over it, in consequence of
the entire absence of tree-stems and the small number of bushes on the
banks, offered unusual difficulties. The men who had had experience
in these Niam-niam expeditions had a method of effecting a transit
over the river that I think was peculiar to themselves: they set all
the bearers to work to gather as many different kinds of bark as they
could, and to extract all the bast out of it, and then to twist it
into long stout ropes, a handicraft in which the negroes are very
skilful, as in Bongoland there is an unfailing demand for cordage
for hunting-snares and fishing-nets. Having fabricated their ropes,
the next thing was to get them stretched across the river. This was
effected by practised swimmers, who attached one end firmly into the
ground by means of pegs, and swam over with the other. The arrangement
of the ropes was such that they were suspended in double rows, one
precisely underneath the other, the upper rope being above the stream,
the lower being some feet below its surface. Ten expert swimmers then
took their stand upon the lower rope, and allowed the stream to force
their weight against the upper rope, which supported their chests,
but permitted them to have their arms perfectly free for action. Thus
supported, in a half-standing, half-floating position, they contrived
to keep their hands at liberty, and to pass the packages from one to
another.

I confess that it was with a beating heart that I stood and watched
my precious baggage thus handed along over the perilous flood; but
the lank, lean arms of the Nubians were competent to their work, and
everything was conveyed across in safety. This business of crossing
occupied several hours of real exertion. The difficulties of the
transit may be conceived, when it is remembered that three-fourths of
the negroes are entirely ignorant of the art of swimming, and that
there were elephant’s tusks being transported which weighed not less
than 180 lbs., and consequently required two men to lift them.

We passed the night near Marra’s villages, and though it was only
a league from the river, it was quite dark before we entered our
quarters. The residents had all vacated the district, leaving their
fields of half-ripe maize to the mercy of the new comers; although
plunder was ostensibly forbidden, it was surreptitiously carried on by
our bearers to a very gross extent under cover of the darkness.

The whole of the next day we halted to recruit our strength. I found my
amusement in scouring the neighbourhood in search of game. Huts were
dotted about here and there, but the country generally was covered with
such a wonderful grass vegetation, that any deviation from the beaten
paths would have involved the wanderer in great perplexity, and only
too probably he would have rambled about for hours before he could
recover his way.

As the caravan was on the point of starting on the succeeding morning,
and I had just set out at the head of the procession, we were brought
to a standstill by the arrival of some messengers bearing a letter to
Mohammed from the commander of his corps, that had been sent towards
the west. To judge from the date of the letter, the Niam-niam who
brought it must have travelled at least forty miles, and perhaps
considerably more, in a day.

[Sidenote: EVIL TIDINGS.]

The letter contained evil tidings. Ghattas’s agent and Badry, Aboo
Sammat’s captain, wrote in the utmost despair. Three chieftains had
combined to attack them as they were crossing a gallery on Malingde’s
territory; three of their number had been slain, and out of their
ninety-five soldiers, thirty-two had been so severely wounded as to be
_hors de combat_. They had now been closely besieged for six days, and
were with extreme difficulty defending themselves behind their abattis;
provisions were fast failing; and even water could only be obtained at
the risk of losing their lives. Ahmed, the other captain, had fallen at
the first outset of the engagement, and his body had not been recovered
for interment, but had fallen into the hands of the cannibals. The only
means of rescuing the wounded soldiers would be to carry them away in
litters, and this could only be effected at the cost of abandoning
seventy loads of ivory that had been buried in a swamp. The letter
concluded with an urgent appeal for speedy succour, and Mohammed
determined to send it without delay; two-thirds of his armed men should
be despatched to the relief of the sufferers.

The selection of this relieving-force had to be made at once, and it
may be imagined that it was no easy matter for Mohammed to overcome
the repugnance of those who had no relative or personal friend in
jeopardy. It was naturally a bitter disappointment to those men who
were thus marked off for this unexpected service to have to renounce
the pleasant prospect of the toils of their expedition being so near
its termination, and to be compelled to expose themselves anew to
the dubious fortune of war. However, in spite of remonstrances and
murmurings, the conscription was completed in a very summary fashion,
and it was still early when the remnant of our party, with its undue
proportion of bearers, continued our northward march.

It was a bright and lovely forenoon; the steppe was adorned with its
summer verdure; what had before been bare red rock, was now covered
with tender grass, which reminded one of our own fields of sprouting
corn. Africa seemed like a universal playground, exciting our people
to sport and merriment.

[Sidenote: CHASE OF HARTEBEESTS.]

We persevered in following our previous well-beaten track. The six
meadow-waters that lay between Marra and the hill of Gumango had
increased but little since we had last seen them. The lovely park-like
country, with its numerous scattered bushes, offered unusual facilities
for the chase, and small herds of antelopes, a long unwonted sight,
appeared and as rapidly disappeared in the surrounding landscape.
Once, however, five hartebeests, at a little distance from our road,
made a stand, and eyed the caravan as intently as if they were rooted
to the spot. I took deliberate aim at the breast of one of them,
and although the whole five wheeled round and galloped off into the
thickets, I felt sure that my shot had taken effect; on running up to
the spot where the antelopes had been standing, we found enough blood
to show us that one of them had certainly been wounded, how severely
of course we could not tell. The dogs that I had were of no service
for hunting, and had to be kept along with the caravan in the care of
servants; but notwithstanding this want of sporting dogs, and in spite
of the confusion caused by the multiplicity of tracks, we managed, by
following the spots of blood, to make out the proper traces of the
wounded hartebeest. As I was approaching one of the smaller thickets, I
observed a couple of kites making their circling flight just above the
trees; this was a manifest token that the wounded animal was not far
off; in another few minutes, as I entered the grove, I caught sight of
the yellow body of the beast skulking painfully away from me as best
it might, a patch of blood-stained, trampled grass betraying the place
where it had thrown itself down.

The arrival of the birds was to me very inexplicable: ten minutes had
hardly elapsed since the shot had been fired, and yet here they were,
awaiting their prey. The sportsman in Africa (and this is especially
the case on bright, sunny days) has constant experiences of this
kind. A few minutes after he has succeeded in bringing down his game
he may see some black dots in the sky, which gradually, as they come
nearer and nearer, will assume a definite shape and ultimately develop
themselves into groups of kites, vultures, or other carrion birds, ever
ready to arrest their flight and to appropriate to themselves whatever
relics of his booty the hunter may leave behind. It might almost
seem, according to the fiction of the ancients, that the sky above
was divided into several storeys, and that the birds were ever ready,
at the sight of a tempting meal below, to hurry downwards from their
topmost region in the sevenfold heaven.

This, however, is mere digression. I return to my hartebeest. After
a considerable search we came upon the creature lying lifeless in
the grass. It proved to be an animal in suck, and my Niam-niam
people, after the wild hunting-custom of the country, filled a small
gourd-shell with milk expressed from the udder, and mutually drank to
each other’s courage and good luck. I had not happened to see the fawn;
probably it had not been with the hartebeests when we first caught
sight of them.

It may be readily understood from these details, that without dogs, and
over so bewildering a country, the capture of game, even after it has
been shot, is very often a matter of no trifling difficulty. Moreover,
time and distance have to be taken into consideration. Our caravan
was often half a league in length, and it was important not to leave
any gaps in the procession, as nothing would be easier than for the
rear division to mistake the narrow path they had to follow. However
fleet the huntsman may be, the antelope is fleeter still, and the
impatience and excitement exhibited by the sportsman, hurried because
he is travelling, have a tendency to increase the alarm of the animal
of which he is in chase, and which is already terrified by the unwonted
sight of man. On the level steppe, where the grass grows to a height
of five or six feet; the pursuer can only get momentary glances of the
creatures’ horns, and all along in his chase he is hardly conscious of
making any more advance than if he were buffeting with the waves of the
sea.

[Sidenote: A LUCKY SHOT.]

The animal I had killed was soon cut up, and I made a meal off its
roasted liver. Leaving some of my people in charge of the carcase, I
set out, designing to return at once to the caravan to despatch some
bearers to bring in the spoil to the encampment; but I missed my road,
and, notwithstanding the help of my compass, I lost an hour or more in
wandering over the rugged paths of an extended elephant haunt. Coming
to a depression that was partially under water I saw several leucotis
antelopes turn off in front of me, and as the water obstructed my
farther progress I made a venture and fired my last shot at a solitary
buck that was standing at a distance of not much less than five hundred
paces. The animal instantaneously disappeared, and the noise of the
report caused several others, in a state of affright, to scamper across
the swamp. My Niam-niam were soon at the place where the antelope
seemed to have fallen into the earth; to my surprise they soon began to
make signs of triumph, and I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw
them dragging the victim along the ground. It was quite dead and the
bullet was in its neck.

Wonderful good fortune had thus, at very slight cost to myself, thrown
into my hands an ample supply of meat, which after their recent
deprivations gave unbounded satisfaction to my people. But I will not
weary the reader with further details of my hunting adventures. Lovers
of the chase and admirers of good marksmanship will find a richer field
for their entertainment in the record of Sir Samuel Baker’s exploits
about the Albert Nyanza, which rivals Herodian’s description of the
sports and prowess of the Emperor Commodus. My own hunting experience,
however interesting to myself, was comparatively on a very limited
scale.

Carrying with us the piece of meat that was designed for our supper,
we entered the camp just as darkness was coming on. I found the people
quartered on the slope of a ridge of hills near the frontier of Bendo’s
district, a league and a half to the south of the residence of the
behnky himself. For half the night I sat up making extract of meat
from the best parts of the leucotis; a large copper vessel, originally
a spirit-still, but now used for preparing the pap for Mohammed’s
slaves, was a most serviceable utensil for the purpose. From about
70 lbs. of the meat, which was very tender, I obtained the unusually
large proportion of 2½ lbs. of extract of excellent quality and of the
consistency of firm honey, the whole produce being perfectly free from
any glutinous matter. The product was altogether superior to what I had
obtained from the Monbuttoo goats, not only being larger in quantity,
but infinitely more palatable, thus demonstrating that the flesh of
the leucotis justified the reputation for flavour with which it was
generally credited. I had an opportunity subsequently of comparing it
with what I received amongst my fresh stores from Khartoom, and am
satisfied that it was in no way inferior to that from Fray Bentos.
Only those who like myself have existed for months together upon an
inadequate and monotonous diet, or those who on long desert journeys
have been limited to farinaceous food, can estimate the strengthening
effect produced by ever so small an addition of this preparation to
other food which is not of itself sustaining. Extract of meat thus is
not the mere seasoning which many consider it; not simply does it give
a relish, and draw out nutritious properties from indifferent food, but
it is in itself a nutritious substance of the highest rank.

The process of boiling the meat is very long; while it was being
completed next morning I had time to explore the magnificent vegetation
of the adjacent hill. The wild vine (_Vitis Schimperi_) was loaded with
its ripe clusters and afforded me a refreshment to which I had been
long unaccustomed. These grapes were less juicy than those that grow
upon the vine-clad hills of Europe, and they left a somewhat harsh
sensation upon the palate; but altogether, and especially in colour,
they reminded me of our own growth. Towards the south-east I had a view
of the hills of Babunga, about ten miles off on the frontier of the
Babuckur territory.

[Sidenote: BENDO.]

All the huts in Bendo’s mbanga had been lately rebuilt in a style that
displayed considerable taste, the tops of the straw-roofs being so
much decorated that they looked like various specimens of ornamental
basket-work. We were able to procure a good stock of maize, which
made a welcome change from the uniformly bad bread which we had been
eating previously for so long. Bendo himself was quite a character; his
singularities amused me; he was a kind of fine gentleman, extremely
particular about his _toilette_, and would never allow himself to
be seen unless he had been carefully painted and adorned with his
high-plumed hat.

I did some botanising on the hill of Gumango and found it full of
interest. We next crossed the Rye, and proceeded to the adjacent
villages of Gumba. Our camp was scarcely pitched there when a message
was received from Mohammed instructing us to wait for him. On returning
to his Seriba he had found that all the soldiers for whose fate he had
been concerned, and whom he was hurrying off to rescue, had already
arrived there safe and sound, having succeeded in breaking through
the enemy and in carrying off their wounded. He was now returning to
us with his full force. Pending his arrival we remained in Gumba’s
villages for the two succeeding days.

He came back at the appointed time, and the recovery of the parted
friends caused great joy and excitement in the caravan; innumerable
were the questions asked, and no accumulation of answers seemed to
allay the curiosity.

My own attention was very much engaged by the accounts given by Badry,
the captain who had been appointed to the command of the corps in
the place of Ahmed; I knew that his word was to be relied on, and
his information was of great value to me as throwing light upon the
geography of the country about the lower portions of rivers, some of
which I had crossed only in their upper course and sometimes quite
close to their fountain-heads.

I heard many details of the conflict between Mohammed’s party and the
Niam-niam, the leading incidents of which I will now proceed briefly to
relate.

It was while they were crossing one of the brooks overhung with the
dense forests which now for so long I have designated as galleries
that the fatal attack took place; the consternation of the defenceless
bearers, and consequently the confusion of the whole party, would seem
to have been very terrible. The first discharge of Niam-niam lances had
strewn the ground with dead and wounded, the column of the unfortunate
bearers furnishing the larger proportion of the victims. Previous to
the attack not a native had been seen. Nothing could be more crafty
than their ambush. Some of them had taken up their position behind
the larger trees; some had concealed themselves in the middle of the
bushes; whilst others, in order to get an aim from above, had ensconced
themselves high up, contriving to lie full length upon the overhanging
boughs where the network of creepers concealed them from the keenest
vision. Badry’s recital brought vividly to my mind the battles with the
Indians in the primeval forests of America, where similar stratagems
have been continually resorted to.

The soldiers kept up their fire with energetic vigour; they are
accustomed to carry a number of cartridges arranged like a girdle right
round their waist, and having their ammunition thus conveniently at
hand they kept up their discharges unintermittingly until they had
collected their wounded; but the bodies of those who had been actually
killed all fell into the hands of the assailants and were carried
off without delay, all attempts at recovering them being utterly
unavailing, because the irregularity of the ground prevented any
organised plan of attack.

[Sidenote: STANDING AN ASSAULT.]

The bearers, meanwhile, had flung away their heavy loads, and in wild
flight had retreated to an adjacent hill that rose above the steppe;
here they were in a short time joined by the Nubians, who sought the
eminence as commanding a view whence they might survey their position
and concert measures for their future protection. Most of the deserted
ivory, of course, had become the prey of the foe, but some of the
Nubians had taken the precaution of burying the burdens in a swamp
within the gallery, under the hope that they might recover it in the
following year. Thus deprived of their proper occupation, the bearers
were at liberty to carry the wounded, and a treaty was concluded with
the enemy so that the party ventured to quit their quarters. The
natives, however, were utterly treacherous; they were bent upon the
annihilation of the intruders, and so, reinforced from the neighbouring
district, they made a fresh and savage attack. In consequence of this
the Nubians were compelled to come to a stand in the open plain, and
lost no time in collecting whatever faggots they could get to make an
abattis.

Behind this abattis they had to hold out for three entire days. The
excited Niam-niam persevered in harassing them with unwearied assaults;
and as three independent chieftains had summoned their entire forces
for the attack, the combined action was unusually formidable; not until
the store of lances and arrows was all used up were the furious sallies
brought to an end and the Nubians permitted to go upon their way.
The enemy, it was said, displayed such unabated energy that when all
their ordinary lances had been spent they procured a supply of pointed
sticks, which they proceeded to hurl with all their might against the
Nubian band; it was, moreover, asserted that the quantity of shields
and lances was so large that the besieged used no other fuel for their
camp-fires during the entire period of their detention. Besides the
weapons that were burnt, the negroes attached to the caravan brought
away a considerable number of lance-heads, which they had tied up in
bundles of nearly a hundred and designed for trophies to decorate their
own huts.

Having thus spoken of the disasters of war that befell Aboo Sammat’s
company, I will proceed to give a short outline of the route which they
took, and which lay to the west and south-west of the districts through
which I had myself travelled. It may be remembered that the corps had
been detached from our caravan at Rikkete’s village on the Atazilly. It
started off in a W.S.W. direction, which it followed during the greater
part of the journey. A march of six leagues brought the men, in the
first place, to the village of Garia, one of Wando’s brothers, who,
like most of the sons of the wealthy Bazimbey, had after his father’s
death, without recognising the hereditary claims of his elder brother,
set himself up as an independent prince in his own district. From this
locality it was described as “a good day’s march” of six leagues to the
residence of Malingde or Malindo. This prince was the aforesaid eldest
son of Bazimbey, and had consequently a more extensive territory than
any of his brothers, with whom he was at that time on quite friendly
terms.

A morning’s march of about four leagues brought the party onwards to
one of the other brothers, named Moffi, who held office as a behnky
in a district under the jurisdiction of Malingde; and between two
and three leagues to the west again they found another behnky, also
Malingde’s brother, called Bazia. Beyond this place was a wide tract
of wilderness separating Malingde’s territory from that of Indimma.
Shortly after reaching Bazia’s residence they had to cross a river,
which they said was as large as the Rohl at Awoory, and joined the
Mbrwole on its right-hand side: three other smaller streams flowed
through this wilderness, all of them affluents of the Mbrwole. As it
took them four days and a half to travel from Bazia to the residence of
Indimma, the distance may probably be estimated at between twenty and
thirty leagues.

[Sidenote: INDIMMA.]

Indimma was a son of Keefa, and one of the most influential Niam-niam
princes of his time. He had taken up his abode on the summit of a
lofty and isolated mass of granite or gneiss, which, according to some
accounts, was as high as the hills near Awoory (relatively 300 feet);
or, according to others, it stood even higher than the Wohba mountain
near Deraggo (relatively 500 feet).

At the top of this eminence was an extensive plateau, laid out in
cultivated tracts; in the centre, like a small town, stood the
residence of the king, embracing, as my informants unanimously
declared, more than a thousand houses.

The mountain must extend several miles, both in length and breadth,
for the tedious ascent took many windings, and compelled the caravan
to make repeated halts. At no great distance to the south was another
smaller hill, and looking towards the west they had a view of numerous
lofty ranges, amongst which was that of the Gangara mountains.

The population of Indimma’s territory is a mixed race, consisting
partly of true Zandey-Niam-niam and partly of A-Madi, a tribe nearly
related to the A-Banga, and corresponding in general features with the
Monbuttoo.

After leaving Indimma, the caravan commenced the four days’ march
which would carry them on to Kanna, who bore the surname of Bendy,
the most powerful of all the reigning sons of Keefa. In the middle of
the first day they had to cross a large river, which the travellers
identified with Wando’s river, the Mbrwole, and compared for magnitude
with the Blue Nile at Khartoom; they all persisted in saying that it
was not the river that they had to cross in canoes on their way to
Munza, and therefore not the Welle. They had still to march on for
three days before reaching Kanna, so that there was no doubt that
the entire distance between him and Indimma could not be much under
thirty leagues. I asked one of Kanna’s Niam-niam, who had attached
himself to the party on their wanderings, how far it was from Kanna’s
to Munza’s residence, and he replied that, marching at the Niam-niam
rate of eight or ten hours a day, the journey would occupy about five
days; the direction, he added, was E.S.E. and S.E.; and his entire
statement coincided very much with what Abderahman Aboo Guroon had told
me when he affirmed that the journey with his heavily-laden caravan had
required fifteen days to accomplish; this was the same length of time
that it had taken us to travel a distance which I imagine is nearly the
same, viz., that from the Nabambisso to Munza’s dwelling.

From all I could gather, I should conclude that the arrangements and
habits of Kanna’s court were very similar to those of the Monbuttoo
sovereigns: like them he had his great palatial halls, where he
celebrated the national festivals with dancing and music, and where the
nobles were assembled for councils of state.

About four leagues, or half a day’s march, from Kanna the detachment
had come to the residence of Bakinge, the king’s brother, who had a
limited district specially assigned to him. Just before reaching this
spot, the caravan had been conveyed across “the great river” that
flows from the land of the Monbuttoo. The river so distinguished was
undoubtedly the Welle. The Khartoomers described it as being as wide
as the White Nile at its mouth; and the Niam-niam interpreter, who
accompanied them, in reply to my direct inquiry as to the proper name
of the great river of Kanna, informed me that it was called the Welle
or Bee-Welle,[54] thus establishing, by a fresh confirmation, its
identity with the river of Munza. I was told that in this district it
makes a semicircular bend. Close to the spot where the caravan crossed
it, was the residence of the king’s brother and sub-chieftain named
Mbittima, and at a short distance beyond stood the abode of Zibba,
Kanna’s son, who was governor of an independent district. Before they
passed to the other side of the river, Aboo Sammat’s company had also
visited the settlement of another brother of Kanna, named Gendwa, which
was about two days’ journey to the north-west of the king’s dominions.

Having thus related the main particulars of the route of the detached
party during their absence, I will return to the narrative of our own
proceedings.

[Sidenote: THE MINNESINGER.]

Our old friend the “minnesinger” paid us another visit in our camp,
and entertained us once again with the droll elaboration of his poetic
faculty; as the theme on this occasion upon which to exercise his epic
muse, he chose the heroic deeds of Mohammed, which he chanted out with
characteristic energy.

As I was quite aware that in a few days more I should have taken my
leave, perhaps for ever, of the Niam-niam lands, I was particularly
anxious to secure a dog of the unique race belonging to the country,
that I might exhibit it as a novelty on my return to Europe. For a
couple of copper rings I made purchase of a specimen of the breed,
which was quite satisfactory, as the creature was not only very
intelligent, but attached itself to me in a very few days. My hope,
however, of introducing the breed into Europe was doomed to be
frustrated; by dint of watchfulness, and at the cost of no little
inconvenience, I succeeded in conveying the animal safely as far as
Alexandria; but while I was staying there, it leapt from the hotel
window, two storeys high, down into the street, and was killed on the
spot. Whoever has experienced the bother of dragging a dog across the
desert on the back of a camel, or of rescuing it times out of number
from being drowned during the passage of a Nile-boat, will readily
sympathise with the annoyance I felt at the waste of all my pains.

As our train proceeded along the hilly region between Gumba and Nganye,
it was easy to make the observation that there was no appreciable
difference in its magnitude compared with what it had been when we
traversed the same district more than four months previously. A
considerable number of the wounded were still carried on litters, and
formed a new feature in the procession. One poor fellow had had the
entire sole of his foot literally peeled off by a lance. Ali, the
leader of Ghattas’s company, had also two severe wounds, one on the
neck, the other on the thigh; but although both of them were still
open, the sturdy negro made light of his trouble, marched on merrily
enough, chattering to his companions every now and then according to
the current phraseology of the Nubians, enforcing his assertions by the
ejaculation, “Wollahi! wollahi!” (“by Allah! by Allah!”) These people
are far greater heroes in enduring pain than would be expected from
their pusillanimity in battle.

With Nganye the Nubians spent a day of riot and revelry in honour of
the African Gambrinus. The chieftain had already prepared for their
entertainment, and had sent to Mohammed’s hut an enormous vase of beer,
the vessel being a fine specimen of native pottery, a masterpiece in
its way, and so heavy when it was full that it required two men to
lift it. I spent the day in a hunting excursion. I started towards the
west, and succeeded in killing two small antelopes and in bagging a
large number of guinea-fowl that, in a liberal mood, I distributed
amongst my companions; the chieftain himself, when he visited me on the
following day, enjoyed a meal off the tender flesh of the birds, which
during the rainy season is particularly rich and savoury.

During my stay with Nganye, I had incidentally a further demonstration
of what is the limited measure of authority really possessed by the
Niam-niam princes. I had discarded, as I have said, the use of my
tent: in return for its torn covering, which, with the lining, would
have furnished material for more than a hundred aprons, Nganye had
covenanted to supply me with twenty baskets of eleusine corn, which
would be required by my people during their coming march across the
desert; but in spite of the number of his wives and slaves, who
I should have imagined would very soon have got together without
difficulty whatever he directed, he was only able to furnish me with
half the stipulated quantity. This meagre species of grain was all the
corn-provision that could be obtained, and very thankful we were that
we could get even that.

[Sidenote: A SUSPENSION BRIDGE.]

Before leaving his Seriba, Mohammed had sent a message to Nganye
to warn him of the advance of the caravan, so that he might have
sufficient time for the preparation of the bridge by which it could
cross the Tondy. This work was executed without delay. A suspension
bridge of a very curious and original construction had been thrown
across the rushing waters. Some of the strongest trees on each bank
had been chosen for supports, and the bridge consisted simply of
strong ropes attached to them with some planks or poles laid upon as
cross-bars. This aërial pathway, as might be expected, oscillated like
a swing; but dangerous as it was, it permitted a passage by carefully
crawling from one cross-piece to the next.

The march from Nganye’s residence to the river led through the
marvellous grass-thickets which I have already described. The grass was
now shooting up afresh in all its wild luxuriance. The season for the
great elephant-hunts was at an end, and Mohammed was well satisfied
with the quantity of ivory his friend had secured. He told me that
Nganye, although he ruled over a district that was smaller in extent
(though it contained nearly as many hunting-grounds as that of Munza),
had furnished him with a much larger supply of ivory than the powerful
Monbuttoo king.

It was near the river, in some huts newly-built in Peneeo’s district,
that we passed our last night in the Niam-niam country. A wide tract of
wilderness had been lately rooted up in order to acquire fresh arable
land against the time when the soil already in cultivation should
be exhausted. In these places it is wonderful to see how the masses
of shrubs that have been oppressed by the exuberant growth of the
trees, sprout out with renewed vigour: free, as it were, from a long
restraint, and reanimated by an open sky, these step-children of the
sylvan flora seem to overwhelm the wanderer with their beauteous bounty.

On the 24th of June we reached the Tondy and its hanging bridge.
To convey the baggage across this tottering erection was the work
of nearly an entire day. The place of our present transit was four
miles to the east of the spot at which we had crossed on our outward
journey; it had been chosen higher up the river for several reasons,
not only because the stream was narrower and the banks were higher,
but principally because the trees were of a larger, more substantial
growth, better adapted for the purpose of being converted into piers
for the suspended ropes which formed the bridge. The river was here
sixty feet wide, but near the banks it was so full of fallen trees and
bushes, of which the boughs projected as though growing in the water,
that the width of the stream was practically diminished one-half. The
velocity of the current was about 115 feet a minute, the depth nowhere
being less than 10 feet.

[Illustration: SUSPENSION-BRIDGE OVER THE TONDY.]

[Sidenote: HIGH IN MID-AIR.]

The materials of the suspension-bridge consisted exclusively of
branches of the wild vine intertwined with thick elastic ropes of
unusual strength. The French traveller d’Abbadie noticed a similar
stratagem for crossing rivers on his tour to Enarea, and bridges
improvised very much in the same manner are constructed from creeping
plants in South America. In order to get the ropes raised to a
sufficient height, a regular scaffolding of fallen stems has to be
erected on either side of the river, by means of which the festoons of
cords are raised to a proper altitude. The clambering from cross-piece
to cross-piece upon this unstable structure, poised in mid-air, seemed
to require little less than the agility of an orang-outang; while the
very consciousness of the insecurity of the support was enough to
make the passenger lose his composure, even though he were free from
giddiness and already an adept in the gymnastic art.

FOOTNOTES:

[53] ‘Journal of the Royal Geographical Society,’ vol. xxxv.

[54] “Bee,” like “ba,” in many of the dialects of Central
Africa, means “river.” It was an appellation that
I was surprised to find in use here, and was a
confirmation of the supposed connection of these lands
with Baghirmy.

CHAPTER XIX.

Division of the caravan. Trip to the east. African elk.
Bamboo-forests. Seriba Mbomo on the Lehssy. Abundance of corn.
Route between Kuddoo and Mbomo. Maize-culture. Harness-bushbock.
Leopard carried in triumph. Leopards and panthers. The Babuckur.
Lips of the Babuckur women. Surprised by buffaloes. Accident
in crossing the Lehssy. Tracts of wilderness. Buffaloes in the
bush. The Mashirr hills. Tamarinds again. Wild dates. Tikkitikki
and the cows. The Viceroy’s scheme. Hunger on the march.
Passage of the Tondy. Suggestion for a ferry. Prosperity of
Ghattas’s establishments. Arrival of expected stores. A dream
realised. Trip to Kurkur. Hyæna dogs. Dislike of the Nubians to
pure water. Two soldiers killed by Dinka. Attempt to rear an
elephant. My menagerie. Accident from an arrow. Cattle plagues.
Meteorology. Trip to the Dyoor. Gyabir’s delusion. Bad news of
Mohammed. Preparations for a second Niam-niam journey.

The day was far advanced when, after crossing the Tondy, we turned
towards the left, and quitted the thickets in order that we might
find an open grass plot sufficiently extensive to accommodate our
caravan. The separate detachments were all gathered together, and then
divided into two parties, as before returning to Sabby Mohammed had
resolved to make an excursion eastwards as far as the borders of his
Mittoo territory, so that he might fetch away what ivory he had in
store there. The greater part of the bearers and soldiers were sent on
direct to Sabby, and I arranged for my own bearers, under the conduct
of my servant Osman Aboo Bekr, to accompany them, whilst for myself I
reserved just as much baggage as was necessary, and joined the party
that was proceeding to the east. It chanced that Ghattas’s corps was
taking the same route, and as it led through districts which were well
supplied with corn, we all marched in company.

After subduing the Mittoo who were resident close to Nganye’s
territory, Mohammed Aboo Sammat, in the previous February, had founded
a Seriba on the Upper Lehssy, at no great distance from the villages
of Uringama, one of Nganye’s behnkys. On account of its singular
fertility the district was a very favourite station for the various
Rohl-companies on their way to and from the Niam-niam lands, and the
sagacious Kenoosian, well aware of the advantages afforded by their
frequent visits, and knowing, moreover, how numerous elephants were
in the surrounding regions, had lost no time in making a settlement
in the locality. The name of the local overseer of the Mittoo people
was Mbomo. As the owners of the land were mutually satisfied with each
other and on the best of terms, the soldiers of the Seriba lived on the
most amicable footing with the neighbouring Niam-niam. The Seriba Mbomo
was about twenty-one miles to the E.S.E. of the spot where we crossed
the Tondy, the road by which we travelled lying almost in a straight
line in that direction.

[Sidenote: ELANDS.]

Soon after starting, just as we re-entered the obscurity of the
forest, the men in the van of the procession made signs that there
was something stirring amongst the bushes. We came to a halt, and
hurrying to the front as stealthily as I could, I made out the forms
of some light-coloured animals that were lurking in the shadows of the
underwood. They turned out to be five splendid elands. They appeared
not to have noticed our approach, and grazed on, as peacefully as
oxen, under a large tree just in front of us. Simultaneously one of
the blacks and myself fired at the foremost buck that chanced to be
standing full broadside in our face. The startled animals made a
bound, and put their running powers to the test, their short weak legs
carrying their ponderous bodies at full gallop across our path. All at
once a crashing noise and a heavy fall; the wounded victim was ours: a
good supper was provided for our caravan.

This antelope (_A. oreas_) is the largest and tallest of all the
African species, occasionally measuring six feet high at the withers;
it appears to be common to the entire continent, and perhaps does
not fail in any equatorial region whatever. It is probable that the
imposing animal owes its name of “eland” to the imagination of some
well-read Boër, to whom it appeared like the mythical creature of his
fables and heroic songs; for only as such could the elk have been known
to the worthy Dutch colonists. But however little, as far as regards
either the colour of its coat or the shape of its horns, the oreas may
have in common with the elk, still I must confess that by its size
it could not do otherwise than remind me of the stately game of my
Livonian home; and the shaggy hair hanging in full crop from the neck,
the bushy bristles on the forehead, and above all the thick black mane
upon the withers, all combined to increase the resemblance. Far more
striking, however, is the analogy of this animal with the zebu-races of
Africa, which exhibit many points that are common to the whole antelope
type. The short legs, the elevated round body, the long hanging dewlap,
the hump-shaped withers, and the light bay colour of the skin are
characteristics of this race that justify a comparison of the eland
with them far more than with the elk.

[Illustration: Horns of Central African Eland.]

[Sidenote: HORNS OF THE ELAND.]

In external appearance this African elk exhibits varieties as great
as the hartebeest and other common species of antelopes, and on this
account it seems to claim some detailed notice. In zoological gardens
it is very rare to find two individual examples exactly alike, and
the greatest diversity is observable in the shape of the horns; as
instances of this, I may refer to the representation here introduced of
two pairs of horns which I have selected from my collection, and which
may be taken as examples of the two most extreme forms that came under
my notice. They are about a yard in length, the pair that is more
divergent making only one spiral turn, while the other makes a turn and
a half. All the elands that I saw had extremely short sleek hair of a
bright yellow tan colour verging on the flanks to a light bay; the mane
was black and erect, being about three inches long. In every district
through which I travelled I observed their skin to be always marked in
well-defined stripes, which are not, as some travellers have supposed,
to be taken as indications of the youth of the animal: I have seen full
grown specimens that were marked on each side of the body with no less
than fifteen parallel stripes, about as wide as one’s finger, of a pure
white running from the black line of the back transversely down to the
middle of the belly, which is often marked with a large black spot.
The flesh of the eland ranks amongst the better kinds of antelope-meat,
and as quite as palatable as that of the hartebeest.

We encamped about a league from our suspension-bridge, in the midst
of a splendid wilderness, where, in spite of the torrents of rain, I
passed a night of entire comfort in my warm nest of grass. A little way
to the north of our encampment there was a small gneiss hill called
Manga. Before halting for the night we had crossed two brooks, which
with a supply of water alike copious and rapid hastened on to join the
river at no great distance away; the first of these, the Mokungudduly,
rippled along over smooth blocks of gneiss, and was bordered by
flower-bespangled meadows that, stretching onwards in a forest glade,
were watered besides by countless springs.

The march of eight leagues that lay before us would pass through an
unbroken forest, and required us to make an early start upon the
following morning; accordingly when we set out we found the whole
wood veiled in mist and the ground yet reeking with the heavy dew.
The forest flora continually tempted me to deviate to either side of
the pathway. My interest was especially attracted by the splendid
Encephalartus, which seemed abundant throughout the district. Amongst
other new types of plants which met my notice was the _Tithymalus_, one
of the cabbage-like euphorbiæ, the first that I had seen throughout
the entire region. A large variety of conspicuous shrubs, many of them
covered with fine blossoms, gave the forest almost the aspect of an
artificial park; one of the most frequent of these (worthy indeed to
be designated as a tree) was the _Parinarium polyantherum_, remarkable
alike for its great trusses of white blossoms and for its polished
leaves, which are thick and yet brittle.

No less than eight running streams had to be crossed during this
march: the three first joined the Tondy, the rest being tributary
to the Lehssy. The third brook was called the Baziah, the fifth the
Ulidyatibba; succeeding this, and enclosed by walls of gneiss, came the
Lehssindah.

[Sidenote: THE MOROKOH.]

About a league to the right of our path, and to the south of the place
where we forded the Lehssindah, rose several gneiss hills, of which
the two highest peaks were called Ndimoh and Bondoh. Our route had
hitherto been quite level, and apparently at a considerable height
above the valley of the Tondy; but it now began to descend for a couple
of leagues to the Morokoh. This wide and rapid stream flowed through a
tray-like valley surrounded by open grass-plains that sloped downwards
on either side to the meanderings of the water. In front of us, to the
east, the whole country had a gentle but regular elevation, for looking
over the right bank of the Lehssy we could make out the locality in
which the union would have to be sought of the chain of the Zilëi
mountains in Mondoo with those that extend between the Tondy and the
Roah.

The scenery of the steep declivity towards the south-west which we now
reached assumed a character very different to the park-like landscape
through which we had been passing. For many miles the eye rested
upon treeless steppes broken by bamboo jungles that seemed almost
impenetrable, standing in detached groups, their dark olive-green
contrasting admirably with the bright hue of the grass, and giving
a novelty to the general aspect. Immediately beyond the Morokoh our
path began to rise, and led us into the semi-obscurity of one of these
jungles.

A short time before reaching it, we had left on our right a series of
hamlets inhabited by the Niam-niam belonging to Dippodo’s district: a
league further on lay the villages of Uringama, on the extreme eastern
frontier of Nganye’s territory, the Lehssy forming the boundary between
the Niam-niam and the Mittoo; and a few more leagues still in the same
direction would have brought us to the north-eastern limits of the
Babuckur.

We reached the Lehssy shortly before sunset. The Seriba was built close
upon the opposite bank, but it was so enclosed by the tall bamboos that
towered high above the palisade that it was completely hidden from our
view. The actual source of the Lehssy was at no great distance; the
river here was about fifteen feet wide, and four feet deep, and flowed
in a N.N.W. direction: the water was as clear as crystal, a peculiarity
that appertains to all streams that are enclosed by bamboos, which
delight in a soil that is intersected by springs. The stems of the
bamboos rose to the height of forty feet; slender and graceful they
bent themselves into an arch which stretched far across the stream; and
as hardly anywhere could a more inviting spot be found for a siesta, so
hardly anywhere could water be met with more tempting for a bath than
that which flowed limpidly over its gravel bed.

On my arrival at the Seriba, I soon became convinced that I was in a
land where corn was abundant; the very liberality of the messes of
sorghum-kissere that were served up to my people was an ample proof
that there was no scarcity here. In times gone by I had myself had an
utter disdain for this food of the Soudan, but now, after so long a
deprivation, I relished it heartily, and thought it equal to the most
delicate of rolls. It was no doubt heavy and indigestible enough;
still I could make a good meal of it; only on rare occasions during
the Niam-niam journey had I tasted any sorghum at all, and when I
had, it had been doled out in infinitesimal quantities, but with the
fresh enjoyment of this luxury now, and with the returning opportunity
of getting some real roast mutton, our previous privations were soon
forgotten.

The Seriba Mbomo was ten leagues to the south of Kuddoo, on the Roah.
Mohammed, with a thoughtful consideration of my tastes, had taken
means to enable me to fill up some missing links in the chain of our
route. During his march in February he had made one of his men who
could write take down all the information he could get from the Mittoo
guides; and from the same authority I obtained verbal confirmation of
the reports which I had previously gathered, so that I was able to map
out the entire district with what I believe is tolerable accuracy.

[Sidenote: NUMEROUS BROOKS.]

In the sketch of the route there were enumerated as many as twelve
brooks that had to be crossed in the interval between Kuddoo and Mbomo,
all supplied more or less copiously with water, even in the dry winter
season. Reckoning from north to south, the series came in the following
order: the Tee, the Burri, the Malikoo, the Marikohli, the Mangawa,
and the Wary; then came the watershed between the Lehssy and the Roah,
marked by the Gherey-hills, which I afterwards visited; then followed
six more brooks, the Kooluma, the Magbogba, the Makaï, the Patioh,
the Manyinyee, and the Malooka. Although all these streams have their
origin quite close to the left bank of the Roah, yet they take a very
devious course before they actually join it; the last five, indeed, do
not directly meet the river, but join another stream to the west of the
route called the Dongodduloo, which unites itself with the Tee or Tay;
the brook that flows past Ngoly’s village, and which is known to the
west of Sabby as the Koddoh, being an affluent of the Roah.

On the watershed, bamboo-jungles extend over an area of many square
miles. The species which is thus found in such immense masses is the
same which is so prolific in the lower terraces of the Abyssinian
highlands. In the manner of their growth these bamboos remind me of an
asparagus-bed in the summer-time, hundreds of sprouts start up from a
single root, and in graceful curves droop over towards the ground. The
habit of the plant is altogether similar to the Indian bamboo, which
has lately been successfully introduced into the pleasure-gardens of
Cairo. The Abyssinian species does not grow so thick in the stem as
the Indian, but it attains as great a height, often rising to forty or
fifty feet.

The well-tilled soil of Mbomo’s district reminded me very much of the
country about Kuraggera; the land appeared well populated and covered
with extensive fields of maize and sorghum. The extent to which maize
was cultivated was quite surprising; whole acres were planted with it,
and I obtained a large supply of fresh ears. I had these all dried and
ground, and thus provided myself with a considerable quantity of flour,
enough to meet the requirements of several weeks to come. The maize
is here liable to the same drawback as it is elsewhere. It is very
easily spoiled. This happens from two causes; it has a tendency to turn
mouldy, and it is very subject to the gnawings of worms; the meal also
ferments sooner than any other species of grain. The means adopted by
the natives to keep it during the winter is simply to tie the ears in
great sheaves and to hang them up on some detached trees, where they
can have plenty of air, and yet be out of the reach of the noxious
vermin.

One of the best productions of the country is the bean (_Phasæolus
lunatus_), the same that is so much cultivated by the Mittoo; it is one
of the most palatable species with which I am acquainted; its pods,
that are short, broad, and crescent-shaped, never contain more than two
large beans.

Although the settlement had been so recently established, Mohammed was
very pleased with the store of ivory that had been secured.

For three whole days I rambled about on the banks of the Lehssy,
meeting with excellent sport. Amongst other things, I killed my
first bushbock, an animal of which the yellowish-tan skin is marked
with white stripes, the lines so arranged as if they were a regular
harness. There is always to be observed some difference or other
between each of these creatures and all its fellows; they are never
precisely alike; either there will be some spot or speck, or stripe,
which is peculiar to each, and distinguishes it from all the rest. The
specimens of the bush-bock that I saw were always solitary; and it
would seem to be more timid than any other species of antelope. The
singular marking of its skin adapted it to catch the eye, but it was
rarely visible for more than a moment; its nervous sensibility made it
keen to catch the slightest sound; the lightest rustling would make
it bound away into the woods. I have stood breathlessly waiting with
cocked rifle, but there is no time to take a proper aim; and the shot
that took effect I own was directed rather by chance than skill.

[Sidenote: BAMBOO THICKETS.]

The bamboo-thickets are likewise a favourite resort of wart-hogs, which
there find abundant food in the tender young sprouts in which they
delight. Numbers of birds, too, attracted by the grain that is formed
in the round and bushy spikes of the bamboo, haunt the scene, and many
varieties of sparrows (_Passeres_) build and breed in this solitude,
which is well-nigh as undisturbed as any upon the face of creation.

The appearance of a herd of large eland antelopes excited the Niam-niam
of the neighbourhood to organise a regular _battue_, during the
prosecution of which they met with a bit of good fortune that did
not often occur. They succeeded in killing a leopard, an event that
was deemed so great a triumph that old and young conspired to do
honour to the occasion. The first intimation that we had of anything
unusual having transpired was given by the war-trumpets, the notes
of which were heard in the direction of Uringama’s villages; our
first impression was that the Niam-niam, who were charged by the keen
Kenoosian with the protection of his frontier, had been successfully
repulsing some assault on the part of the Babuckur; but very soon
the report was circulated that a noble present was being conveyed
to Mohammed, and, true enough, ere long there approached a formal
procession bearing on a litter of leaves the blood-stained carcase
of the leopard. The offering was duly laid at Mohammed’s feet as
a tribute, betokening the respect and friendship of the behnky.
Throughout the whole of Central Africa the skin of the leopard is
deemed a suitable adornment for persons of princely rank, and nowhere
is it more readily admitted amongst the insignia of royalty than with
the Niam-niam.

The animal that was now brought in was more than a yard in length. It
had been killed in a singular way. Having encroached stealthily upon
the position of the hartebeests, and not suspecting the proximity of
the hunters, it had suddenly found itself beset by a body of men, and
by a prodigious bound endeavoured to leap over the circle of snares
that had been set. Just, however, as the leopard was effecting an
escape it was struck by a couple of lances with such violence that the
points darned themselves into the flesh, and left the stems protruding.
Thus impeded, the wounded creature became entangled in the bushes and,
overpowered by the number of missiles hurled against it, succumbed to
its destiny.

All the leopard skins that I saw in this part of Africa belonged to
animals of the thick-set species, which is distinguished by large
complicated spots, each spot being itself an assemblage of smaller
spots, which run, generally in about five rows, along the entire body.
By some naturalists this species is designated as the panther, in
contradistinction to the true leopard, which is said to have a more
slender body covered with more numerous rows of smaller spots. This,
however, is an error; in spite of the many varieties of form and the
gradations in the markings of the skin, it appears certain that but
_one_ species of leopard exists throughout Africa, and that in this
quarter of the globe, at least, the distinctive terms of _leopard_ and
_panther_ are unnecessary.

[Sidenote: THE BABUCKUR.]

On my previous wanderings I had skirted about three-fourths of the
frontier of the Babuckur territory. As this territory lay but a short
distance to the south-west of Mbomo, being bounded by the Tondy, I was
able to obtain from the soldiers of the Seriba some particulars of the
country of which I had seen the natives largely represented among the
slaves of the various settlements at which I had sojourned.

The Babuckur must either have migrated to their present quarters from
the south, or they must be the remnant of a nation that has been
constrained to make its way to the north and to the east by the advance
of the Niam-niam. It is said that their dialect is found amongst
some of the tribes to the south of the Monbuttoo; this is not at all
unlikely, as, like those tribes, they have an established system of
agriculture and give great attention to the breeding of goats. Limited
to an area of not more than 350 square miles, the eastern portion of
this people is very much exposed to the raids of the Khartoomer traders
and to the depredations of the Niam-niam chieftains, who for years have
considered their land as a sort of outlying storehouse, from which
they could at pleasure replenish their stock of corn and cattle. By
reason of the perpetual persecutions to which they have been subject,
their population has gradually become more and more compressed, and
their very crowded condition itself probably accounts for the vigorous
intensity with which they now ward off any acts of hostility; they
are equally warlike and resolute; they will fight till they have shed
their last drop of blood; and as cannibalism is commonly reported to
be practised among them, their assailants are generally content to
carry off whatever plunder is to be secured, as hastily as possible,
without waiting to pursue or trying to subjugate them. Their eastern
neighbours, the Loobah, though themselves harassed by the oppressors
from the north, are continually at war with the Babuckur.

The other portion of the Babuckur has withdrawn to the frontiers of
the Bongo and Niam-niam that lie between the Sway and the Tondy,
about sixty miles to the north-west of the portion to which I have
been referring; the complete identity of the race, thus severed only
in situation, is verified not only by the one term “Babuckur” being
applied indiscriminately to the two sections, but still more by
the complete similarity of the dialects, as I afterwards proved by
comparing the vocabularies that I compiled. The Bongo call the western
division of the Babuckur “Mundo.”[55]

The Babuckur are a tropical negro race. Their complexion is very
dark. As slaves they are very useful, being of a docile and enduring
temperament, handy in the house, and expert at almost any ordinary
work. They are short in stature, and have a vacant, not to say a
repulsive, expression. The women, when they have once passed their
youth are, as a rule, the very incarnation of ugliness, for besides
having extremely irregular features, they mutilate their faces in a
most frightful way. All married women[56] pierce the rims of their
ears and both their lips, and insert bits of grass-stalk about an inch
long in the holes, some of them having as many as twenty of these
grass-slips about their mouth and ears. The sides of the nostrils are
treated in the same way as amongst the women of the Bongo, as I noticed
in its proper place.

As Mohammed was anxious to inspect his Mittoo Seribas again before
returning to his chief settlement, I did not wait for him, but,
accompanied by a small retinue, I started off on the 29th of June,
taking the nearest route to Sabby. For the first four miles we followed
the same path by which we had come to Mbomo, and although the rain fell
incessantly, the bamboo-forest was so unbroken that it afforded us
an effectual shelter, and we reached the descent to the Morokoh with
dry skins. After crossing the brook we turned off in a north-westerly
direction, at an acute angle to our previous path.

[Sidenote: FORDING THE LEHSSINDAH.]

An immense tract of forest, utterly barren and uninhabited, was now
before us. The nearest cultivated spot would be the villages of the
Bongo, near Ngoly, which could not be less than forty miles away,
and certainly could not be reached within three days. After crossing
four little meadow-waters, and fording the Lehssindah where it flowed
between its gneiss banks, we encamped for the night about a league
further on, near another of these meadow-waters, which are very
numerous, and which, spreading themselves out in open glades, sometimes
500 paces wide, break the monotony of the wooded scene.

The whole region was enlivened by herds of hartebeests, and choosing my
position at the head of the procession, I was ever on the _qui vive_ to
pursue them. My exertions in this way made the distance that I actually
travelled three times as much as it need have been; but I had no other
reward for my pains than the amusement I derived from the grotesque
movements of the agile creatures.

After I had comfortably settled myself for the night in my grass nest,
a circumstance occurred of a kind which more than once had happened
to us before. I was roused by a dull heavy sound that seemed to shake
the ground like an approaching earthquake. Our camp was tolerably
extensive, for, besides my own retinue, a considerable number of
Mohammed’s bearers, conveying a large quantity of his ivory, had been
sent in our party; but large as our numbers were, the whole camp was
thrown into commotion, and shouts and gun-shots were heard from every
quarter. The explanation of the uproar was that an enormous herd of
buffaloes in their nightly wanderings had come scampering down upon
our position, and exposed us to the manifest risk of being trampled to
death.

[Sidenote: SHARPLY STUNG.]

Early on the second morning we reached the banks of the Lehssy. The
deep river-bed was now quite full, the stream being forty feet wide and
flowing in a westerly direction at the rate of sixty feet a minute.
The bearers performed the passage by the ordinary manœuvre of bridging
over the water. For my own part I thought to adopt a scheme which would
give some variety to the monotony of these proceedings, and became the
victim of a little episode of by no means an agreeable nature. There
would be a difficulty, I felt, in wearing my boots to cross the tangled
branches of which the extemporised bridges are formed; they would
permit no sure hold to the feet, and to walk over bare-footed would
not have been a prudent experiment, as I might become footsore and
prevented from marching; I therefore abandoned all idea of clambering
over, but undressed myself and proceeded to swim across the flood.
When I was just within a few strokes of the opposite shore, all at
once I experienced a painful shock that throbbed through every limb; I
had come into contact with one of the prickly mimosa-bushes, which I
have already described as frequently hedging in the various streams.
The river-bed being now full to its entire capacity, the water had
completely risen above the dangerous shrubs, so that they had quite
escaped my notice. I knew the nature of these thorny barriers by
experience, and when I mention that I never found the stoutest boots
able to withstand the penetrating power of the spikes, it may be
imagined to a degree what agony I now suffered. It was like stranding
on a reef of thorns. The utmost refinement of cruelty could hardly
devise an instrument of torture much more effectual than these mimosæ.
However, swim I must. With a desperate effort I got myself free from
the entanglement of the shrubs, and, bleeding from a hundred
lacerations, I contrived to reach the land. I felt as if my whole body
had been scarified. But there was no time to lose; so, in spite of the
nervous shock, the angry wounds, and the smarting skin, I set out at
once in continuation of our march.

We travelled five leagues that day and crossed six separate
meadow-waters and glades of the same character as those already
mentioned.

After proceeding for a considerable distance over bare red rocks,
we were overtaken by a sudden storm of rain, and had to take hasty
measures for protecting the baggage. But the interruption did not
prevent me from doing a little interesting botanizing during the
interval of delay. I found two of the prettiest plants that the land
produces here, showing themselves in great abundance: a little orchid
(_Habenaria crocea_) with saffron-coloured blossoms, and a sky-blue
Monbretia, not unlike a squill. In many places the barren rocks were
overspread with patches of these plants, that they looked as though a
carpet had been laid out upon them, the colours blending into patterns
that would not disgrace the flower-beds of our modern gardening.

In connection with the second of our night encampments a circumstance
occurred, trifling in itself, but which was a convincing proof that,
however deserted and free from human intrusion these forest solitudes
might appear, they are nevertheless explored by the natives when they
are out upon their hunting excursions. In the bustle of starting in
the morning, a pair of boots, which I had hung up to dry within my
grass-hut, had been forgotten and left behind. I did not miss them
for a few days; but as their loss could not be replaced, I sent some
people back, in the hope that they would recover them. It was found
that the huts meanwhile had been ransacked by some mysterious stranger,
and the rare treasure had not escaped the keen eye of the hunter; the
boots, indeed, were hanging precisely where they had been left; but
every nail, and every little brass ring that formed the eyelets for
the laces, had been carefully extracted from the leather, and were now
probably gleaming in the nose and ears of some swarthy beauty.

Early in the morning of the third day we entered the splendid forest of
Humboldtiæ, through which, only ten miles to the west, we had passed at
the commencement of our Niam-niam campaign. After the forest came an
open steppe, with a distant view of the hills in front, which we should
again have to cross, though more to the east than before. The passage
of the Mah being accomplished, the ascent began, and led through a
wood, where the foliage was so dense that it was quite impossible to
see many steps ahead. At this period I chanced to be nearly in the
rear of the procession, when my attention was arrested by an old black
slave in the pathway, who kept beckoning me to come to her. I found,
on going up to the place where she stood, that she wanted to point out
to me a black object that was about ten paces away; at first I took it
to be merely a great stem of a tree that could only be indistinctly
seen behind the large leaves of the Anonæ; and I was about to make a
somewhat closer investigation, when all at once the mass began to move,
and a fine pair of horns displayed themselves. In my impetuous surprise
I fired mechanically, without an aim. My sudden shot raised a storm
that I had little expected. In an instant a herd of twenty buffaloes,
snorting and bellowing, with tails erect, came galloping past in mad
career. Dizzy with confusion I discharged my double-barrelled rifle
amongst the brutes; another moment and I could see nothing more than
the massive foliage: the buffaloes had vanished, and I heard no more of
them than the distant thunder of their heavy tramp.

[Sidenote: A HARTEBEEST KILLED.]

The hills before us were called Mashirr; they were a continuation of
the steep declivity of Mbala-Ngeea in the west, to which I have already
alluded, extending onwards towards the south-east and forming a portion
of the ridge that had been on our right during the whole of our march.
On the summit, as far as the eye can reach, there is an extensive
plateau, broken by detached groves and handsome trees, and sloping down
towards the north, to the depression of the Tee. For the first time,
after long missing them, we found some tamarinds, under the ample shade
of which we made a short noonday halt, and then started off through
some deep defiles that led to arid plains. Before reaching the Tee we
counted four little brooks that flowed in an easterly direction to join
it; the first of these, to the north of the hills, was the upper course
of the Nungolongboh, and was full of water in a deep bed enclosed by
an avenue of trees. A ridge of hills ran parallel to our path upon
the left, and after we had crossed the second brook we observed a
mass of red rock rising to about 300 feet upon our right. Many small
herds of hartebeests came in sight. I lamed one of the animals with
a rifle-shot, and was grieved to see how cruelly it was afterwards
butchered by the Bongo, the poor brute being so unmercifully mangled
by their lances that I had no little difficulty in getting a piece of
solid flesh large enough to carry off and roast.

So much time was lost in our chase of the antelope that the evening
came on whilst we had still some leagues to travel, and we soon
found ourselves marching on in complete darkness. I was amongst the
stragglers of our party, and we lost our way several times before we
were finally collected by the clanging roll of the kettle-drums on
the southern outposts of the Bongo. It was quite midnight when, weary
with our exertions and drenched by passing through so many swamps, we
arrived, after a circuitous route, at the village of Ngoly.

At this place we remained a day to recruit our strength. In the
environs of the village I found the Encephalartus (here in its most
northerly position), the seeds, as large as hazel-nuts, strewing the
ground in all directions.

At this season, too, the fruit of the wild date-palm was ripe, and I
collected a large quantity of it, with which I made an unsuccessful
attempt to concoct some African palm-wine. The fruit possesses the same
pleasant aroma as the common date, but it is only a third of the size,
and is very unpalatable, being harsh, dry, and woody.

On the 3rd of July we marched, without a single halt, for nine
consecutive hours, until we found ourselves once again in Sabby. The
last few leagues were accomplished in a drizzling rain. Large herds of
antelopes frequented the district; but it was vexatious to find myself
continually foiled in chasing them by the over-eagerness of my own
dogs, which I was quite unable to restrain.

Our entry into Sabby made a wonderful impression upon Tikkitikki. He
caught sight of a number of cattle quietly grazing before the gate
of the Seriba, and, jumping to the conclusion that they must be a
herd of wild antelopes that had accidentally strayed there, could not
comprehend why no one endeavoured to avail himself of so splendid a
chance to secure a prize. Subsequently, when he witnessed the process
of milking, his delight knew no bounds; he laughed aloud, and declared
that so comical a sight he had never seen before.

[Sidenote: FIVE DAYS REST.]

This journey had been one of the most pleasant and the most successful
that had ever been undertaken in so remote a part of the continent.
Its pleasantness was owing to my state of health and to the fine air
of the Niam-niam countries; its success was due to the favourable
circumstances under which I had travelled. In Europe the general
idea of such a journey is that it must be a sort of martyrdom, made
up of indescribable fatigue, exertion, and deprivation; but, without
hesitation, I can affirm that, to a traveller who can only maintain
his strength and activity, it is far otherwise; though he may find his
enterprise laborious, he will not find it wearisome; it will be what
a German would describe as _mühsam_ rather than _mühselig_. Fatigue
and hardships are estimated comparatively, not so much to themselves,
as to the ordinary comfort of domestic life. Those who are acquainted
with such fatigue as attends our modern warfare, with its transient
strain upon the powers of endurance, may probably form a fair idea
of the character of my exertions; but to all those who, like myself,
have travelled by “Russian posts” my worst trials and wants in Africa
would appear mere child’s play. In fact, our days’ marches were often
so short that I became quite impatient. Our Niam-niam campaign from
Sabby occupied 150 days, and in that time, apart from a few unimportant
deviations, we had only travelled 560 miles in all; according to
the calculations as registered in my journal at the time, the whole
distance accomplished was about 248 leagues.

After the forced marches, however, that we had just recently been
making, I was heartily glad of the five days’ rest which I was now
enabled to enjoy in Sabby. A large packet of letters was awaiting
my arrival, and to read through a correspondence which had been
accumulating for a year and a half was an agreeable engagement for
the period of unwonted repose. It was now for the first time that I
heard of Sir Samuel Baker’s adventurous expedition, and now that I got
my earliest intimation of the Egyptian Government having undertaken
to establish a footing in the Gazelle district. Kurshook Ali, a born
Osmanli and one of the chief ivory merchants of Khartoom, who possessed
a Seriba there, had been invested by the Governor-General with the
title of a Sandjak, and been placed at the head of two companies of
Government troops, one company being regular Turks (Bazibazuks), the
other composed of negroes (Nizzam). The arrival of these troops had
excited a great amount of consternation through all the Seribas, for,
apart from the fact that it too probably seemed to jeopardise the very
foundation of the rights of the holders to the territory, it certainly
presaged the levying of those taxes and imposts which the presence of
Government soldiers always entails. What, in the first place, excited
Kurshook Ali’s cupidity was to get possession of the famous copper
mines of South Darfoor. He was going to appropriate these in the name
of the Viceroy, but Ismail Pasha was caught in a trap, and beguiled by
the duplicity of a priest belonging to Darfoor, who represented the
locality as being his own private property, exhibiting a forged deed
of gift, purporting to be made by the late Sultan, to corroborate his
claim.

Hellali, for such was the name of the skilful swindler, had for some
time been employed as a secretary at the Court of the Sultan Hussein,
and, being familiar with the administration of the affairs of Darfoor,
turned his knowledge to account in fostering the animosity of that
country against Egypt, its far more powerful neighbour. He had not,
however, the slightest acquaintance with the property which he claimed
as his own, and led the troops, with their Sandjak, by difficult paths
to an uncertain fate, in a country that was scarcely known even by name.

In possession of the Viceregal firman, Hellali had the companies of
black soldiers under his own orders, while Kurshook Ali had only the
Arnauts. The story of how Hellali brought about a bloody conflict not
only with the occupiers of the Seribas, but (after the death of the
Sandjak, Kurshook Ali, which occurred soon afterwards) with the Turkish
soldiers themselves, must be narrated on a later page.

After I had re-arranged and re-packed my collection, and seen that it
had been properly enveloped in waterproof cases, I provided myself with
a fresh relay of bearers, and, on the 8th of July, proceeded again
towards the north. It was hardly in human nature not to be eager to
get the provisions which, having been forwarded from Khartoom, were now
delayed beside the sluggish waters of the Gazelle. Mohammed, however,
had not yet appeared, but was still making his requisitions of corn in
his territories amongst the Mittoo. In consequence of his not returning
with the anticipated contributions there was an increased dearth in
Sabby, and my poor bearers were becoming absolutely destitute. Their
sufferings during their arduous five days’ toil were little short of
incredible. The Seribas of Shereefee, which were passed upon the way,
were as “hard up” for sustenance as Sabby itself; and besides this, the
Bongo that were settled thereabouts were all in avowed hostility to my
own Bongo, so that no spirit of hospitality was to be expected along
our route.

[Sidenote: A TRYING JOURNEY]

Throughout this portion of our trying journey, the bearers, incredible
as it may appear, subsisted solely upon the wild roots which they could
grub up; they had positively nothing else to support them, and only
digestions such as theirs could have endured the strain. The pressure
under which we laboured of accomplishing the journey without loss of
time was so urgent that there was not leisure to avail ourselves of any
temptation to the chase, and, however much we might feast our eyes, we
were under the stern necessity of keeping back our feet from pursuing
the elands and waterbocks which had ventured from the wilderness and
were grazing peacefully in almost close proximity to our line of march.

It was on the 10th that we reached Shereefee’s chief Seriba, but we
did not enter it. I had openly declared myself to belong to Mohammed’s
party, and indeed could not do otherwise than foresee the bitterness of
those contentions which so soon afterwards broke out and led to such
serious issues.

Most fortunately we were free from rain all the day. The groups of
sycamores, which on our former visit had furnished such a commodious
encampment under the shelter of their splendid foliage, invited us once
again to take up our quarters beneath them; but we had hardly settled
ourselves under their shade before we were surprised by the sudden
outbreak of a storm, which continued with much violence. The woody
landscape around was pleasant enough, and I was compensated in a way
by the beauty of the scenery for the lack of provisions; but I looked
forward with eager hope for a period of refreshment when there would be
an end to chilly baths and wearing apparel perpetually wet.

The passage over the Doggoroo was not made without considerable
trouble, as we had to fell some trees and lay down a lot of brushwood
so as to construct one of our improvised bridges. The last night-camp
between the Doggoroo and the Tondy was deplorably wretched; our
provisions were positively exhausted; all we could do was to send some
messengers to the nearest Seriba to insure that we should have a supply
of some kind in readiness for us on the following morning. It was also
necessary to have extra bearers, as comparatively few of the Bongo of
Sabby had any knowledge of the art of swimming.

After arriving at the height, from whence, for some miles round, we
could survey the expanse of the submerged lowlands, we had still
several hours before we could decipher in the distance the forms of the
swimmers bringing the burdens of which we were in such urgent need.
My bearers could not control their impatience; greedily they pounced
upon the first bags of corn that were brought to land, and without
tarrying for the grain to be cooked, they thrust it by handfuls into
their mouths. Their strong teeth easily crunched it up, the hard dry
corn being as readily devoured by them as if they had been accustomed
to it all their lives. Horses, or ruminants of any kind, could not more
readily have disposed of a feed of oats.

I had thoroughly to undress myself in order to pass over the flooded
depression, and even upon the banks of the stream I stood knee-deep in
water. The passage over the river was tedious, mainly in consequence
of the sharp edges of the marsh-grass and the numerous pit-holes in
the bottom making any rapid progress very dangerous. No less than two
hours had I to dawdle away my time in this cheerless position before
the caravan could be brought entirely over. A small raft, constructed
of bundles of grass tied together, was used for the purpose of ferrying
the baggage across; and, thanks to the excessive care that was used,
not a single article failed to be transported in safety.

[Sidenote: CROSSING THE TONDY]

At this date (July 12, 1870) the Tondy was flowing with a velocity
of eighty feet a minute; the depth of the channel, now over-full,
proved to be no less than twenty-four feet, and the entire width of
the stream, as it reached from the reedy border on one side to that on
the other, extended to something more than 120 feet. The river had now
risen more than four feet beyond the ordinary limits of its inundation,
and our train had repeatedly to make wide deviations from its proper
route in order to keep where the bottom was tolerably level and free
from dangerous holes. The day was well-nigh spent in contending with
rain and flood, and it was quite dusk before we hailed the welcome
sight of the hospitable huts of Kulongo.

There is a way of transporting baggage across such rivers as are
tolerably free from danger, which appears to me to be eminently
practicable, and to be suited peculiarly well to this country, but
which I was sorry never to see brought into use. It is a method
recommended by Barth[57] in the record of his enterprise, and consists
simply of making a ferry by means of gourds. About a couple of dozen
of moderate-sized calabashes are fastened together and covered over
with layers of grass, and these are found to make a raft, which is
quite capable of bearing several hundredweight of goods. It has been
to no purpose that I have called the attention of the Nubians to this
contrivance; although they seemed forced to acknowledge the efficacy of
the plan, they are not disposed to try it; however, for the benefit of
future travellers, I beg to suggest it as a method which, under many
circumstances, might afford them incomparable service.

Thus it was that after an absence of eight months I found myself
happily back again at my old quarters. The place itself was little
altered, except that the Seriba seemed to be in a more flourishing
condition than in the previous year. The Bongo deserters, who had
caused the failure of the Niam-niam expedition, had in consequence of
a campaign against the Dinka tribes, on whose territory they had taken
up their quarters, not only themselves returned to their former abode,
but had induced three times as many Bongo as there were before to come
and settle upon Ghattas’s property. These people, who were now present
in such superfluous numbers, had ten years ago all taken themselves
off at the first appearance of strangers settling in their land. I saw
that numerous tracts of woodlands had been cleared and brought under
cultivation, and that various clusters of houses and farmsteads had
grown up around. Altogether I should say that there could not have been
much less than 600 fresh huts, which would represent at least 2500
souls. Since my departure, too, Ghattas senior had bidden his last
farewell to earthly property, and his Seribas on the Upper Nile had all
become the inheritance of his eldest son.

[Sidenote: PROJECT OF SECOND NIAMNIAM TOUR.]

After being away so long I felt that it was almost like coming home,
and realised something of the sensation of treading again the soil
of my fatherland when I gazed afresh upon this country, so rich in
its woodland charms, so abundant in its smiling sunny cultivation, so
contrasted in its character to the gloomy and inhospitable forests of
the Niam-niam, which I had just quitted. I could not be otherwise
than conscious that I had taken a step which brought me nearer Europe.
The large establishment with its diversified population of full many
a hue, the mere sight of clothes and linen that had known what it
is to be washed, the unaccustomed diversity of victuals of which we
could partake, all seemed so different to the contracted resources and
meagre fare to which of late I had been subject, that I could hardly
resist the impression that I must be living in a city, and could
almost fancy myself already back at Khartoom. But before that could
happen there were many obstacles to be overcome, and I must submit for
various reasons to stay where I was. The journey to the Meshera, at
this season of the year, presented nothing but countless marshes, the
very birthplace of the miasma, which in its turn begets fever. Fresh
deprivations for months to come would be the penalty of attempting at
once to proceed up the river, and I had, moreover, reason to mistrust
the capability of my constitution to withstand disease if I put it
to too stern a test. I resolved, therefore, to tarry as patiently as
I could, and to console myself with the pleasure of anticipation. In
addition to this I had several important tasks which had never been
satisfactorily finished, although I felt that the main object of my
mission had been generally accomplished.

The temptation to a second Niam-niam tour was too strong to be
resisted. I felt that it was my business to strike while the iron
was hot, because future travellers only too probably would find that
opportunities so good as my own were closed against them.

Exactly a month after our arrival a party was despatched for the
purpose of fetching the supplies which were on their way to me. Not
only my own effects, but Ghattas’s too, were all lying crammed up in
the meagre and not over-safe accommodation of the hold of the boats.

One occupation which engaged my attention continuously consisted in my
supervision of the arrangement of my miscellaneous collection, which
had increased very largely. It was necessary that everything should be
put into a condition ready for its long transport.

Another demand upon my time arose from my having my correspondence for
the ensuing year to complete and my journal to transcribe. My industry
at this period had its full reward. The documents that I then copied
and the outline maps that I dotted down were all preserved, and were
the only compensation I had to make good the subsequent melancholy loss
of all my other papers.

It will easily be understood how delighted I was, on the 23rd of
August, to receive my new consignment of supplies. Although a good
many articles had either been damaged by damp or devoured by insects,
yet a sufficient proportion of them remained so uninjured that I was
perfectly satisfied, and could venture with the utmost confidence to
make my preparation for another journey. I was able to distribute a
good number of presents of garments, pistols, and guns amongst the
controllers of the various Seribas, whose acquaintance I had made,
while the replenishing of my store of beads and stuffs gave me an
opportunity of making certain acknowledgments of the good offices of my
attendants. But the services which Mohammed Aboo Sammat had rendered me
were far larger than all, and for these I had no return in my power to
make.

Furnished thus afresh with a number of conveniences and luxuries
which the interior did not supply, I found myself enjoying an amount
of comfort that reminded me of Europe, and in the improvement of the
quality of my daily food I almost forgot the hardships I had suffered.

By a somewhat circuitous route I had received several cases of wine.
This was a gift which was especially acceptable, as being redolent of
my distant home. That of which I had dreamed as I tarried by the banks
of the Nabambisso was now within my reach; it was no longer tantalizing
to think of the “mountain port,” for I had not only my bottle of wine,
but a plentiful supply of other good things in addition; and nothing
would have been a pleasanter task than to be able to entertain some
lonely traveller like myself whom chance might have thrown across my
path. To be able to open a bottle of wine at all in the heart of Africa
was such an inexplicable piece of luck that it involuntarily brought to
my mind the revenge of the gods and the ring of Polycrates, and to say
the truth it was but a passing pleasure.

I was desirous of devoting the remainder of 1870 to the further and
more complete investigation of the Dyoor and Bongo lands. With this
intention I betook myself next to the Seriba of Doomookoo, and spent
the first half of September in an interesting excursion to Kurkur, a
district which, if ever the history of this land should be properly
written, will have a claim to one of its most prominent chapters.

[Sidenote: KURKUR.]

Kurkur, just at present a Seriba of Aboo Guroon’s, twenty-eight miles
to the W.S.W. of the chief Seriba of Ghattas, is a name already
known, having been mentioned by Petherick, who, as the first explorer
of the district, in 1856, had established a mart somewhere in the
neighbourhood, making it the extreme point to which he advanced in his
search for the ivory of the productive region.

Upon my route I crossed and re-crossed a number of small affluents
which, coming westwards from Bongoland, joined the Dyoor. I gave,
however, a particular attention to the course of the Molmul, which
hitherto had been regarded merely as an arm of the Dyoor, but which I
ascertained beyond a question to be an entirely independent stream. I
crossed it close to Doomookoo, and again on my return at another place
eight miles further to the north. It bears among the Bongo the name of
Maï.

Between Doomookoo and Kurkur the scenery was pretty and undulated,
wooded eminences alternating with extensive tracts of cultivated plain.
The rises in the ground are made by low ridges of hills that run in a
north-west direction on either side of the Nyedokoo, an affluent of the
Dyoor that is always full of water. I looked in upon two little Seribas
belonging to Agahd, called Kehre and Neshirr, and just before reaching
Kurkur I called at Nguddoo, one of Kurshook Ali’s settlements. The
various territories of the different traders are quite confusing, as
they lie scattered about in little enclaves like the petty Thuringian
dukedoms in Germany.

The present Seriba of Kurkur is situated in a flat bushy region, rich
in every variety of game. I was told that the former Seriba, visited
by Petherick, stood eight miles to the south-west, on the Legbe, an
important affluent of the Dyoor. Twelve miles further to the south, and
parallel to the Legbe, is the Lako, which is another tributary of the
Dyoor.

I remained at Kurkur for three days. Whilst I was there the natives
killed a couple of giraffes. The controller had in his possession
several of these animals alive, which had been caught in the
neighbourhood, and for which he hoped to find a sale at Khartoom.

The spotted hyæna dogs (_Canis pictus_) are very common in this region.
These dangerous animals have a partiality for the steppes and open
brushwood, and, congregating in herds, hunt down the smaller antelopes,
especially bushbocks. No case was known where they had attempted to
attack men. Some of their skins are most brilliantly marked, and
exhibit such a combination of red, white, yellow, and black spots
that the hyæna dog may fairly claim to be the most particoloured of
all mammalia. I saw one specimen in the Seriba that was perfectly
tame, requiring no other restraint than a cord, and yielding to its
master with all the docility of an ordinary dog. This fact appears
to corroborate the assertion of Livingstone (which, however, he makes
with some reserve, not having personally witnessed the circumstance),
that the natives of the Kalahari Desert are accustomed to break in this
animal and train it for the chase.

[Sidenote: DANGAH.]

Twelve miles to the north of Kurkur was another subsidiary Seriba,
belonging to Aboo Guroon, and called Dangah, after a Bongo chief who
lived there at the time when Petherick was in the country; another
surviving chief named Dyow, also mentioned by Petherick, had his
abode five miles further to the west; he came to pay me a visit, and
retaining the recollection of the condition of the country under an
earlier aspect now passed away, he made the usual lamentations over the
destitution of the land and its present deficiency of game.

The Nyedokoo, enclosed by dense jungles of bamboo, passes close to
Dangah, and in the rainy season is about thirty feet wide and ten
feet deep. The inmates of the Seriba were supplied by its bright and
sparkling waters, and I rejoiced at having an opportunity to send my
stock of linen that it might be properly washed. Of the forty Seribas
that I visited I saw scarcely more than three that were situated in
immediate proximity to running water, the supply obtained from the
wells being generally impure, besides being obtained in quantities too
limited to be of much service for washing clothes.

The Khartoomers seem to have a very wonderful faculty for picking out
the worst possible places for the formation of their settlements.
Although they are excellent swimmers, they are so accustomed to the
dust and dirt of their own home and to the turbid floods of their
beloved Nile, that even here, where streams are so abundant, they have
a morbid prejudice against all pure water whatsoever. They forget that
the waters of the Nile are wholesome in spite of being turbid, and
make no distinction between them and the waters of the noisome swamps
of Central Africa; while they heap imprecations upon the insalubrity
of the climate, which, they say, gives them pestilence, guinea-worm,
fever, skin disease, syphilis, and small-pox, they take no pains to
avoid the very spots which are the primary cause of all their suffering.

After leaving Dangah I turned back towards the east, and, having called
at Agahd’s subsidiary Seriba Dubor on the way, I soon re-entered my own
headquarters. The circuit I had thus completed was about sixty-five
miles.

During my brief absence an event had transpired in Ghattas’s Seriba
that had alarmed the whole community, and which furnished a topic of
anxious speculation for some weeks to come. It appeared that two of
the Nubian soldiers belonging to the Seriba had betaken themselves to
a Dyoor smith in the neighbourhood for the purpose of getting him to
forge them some rings. While they were sitting in the smithy quietly
watching the operations, all at once they were surrounded by a troop of
Dinka warriors, who were scouring the country. The sight of a couple
of unprotected “Turks” had suggested to the Dinka the idea of taking
revenge for the last raid that they had suffered, and the unfortunate
victims were attacked, cruelly tortured by lance-wounds, and carried
back dead to the Seriba. The entire force turned out to punish the
aggressors if they could; but the Dinka had had so good a start, that
they were far beyond pursuit. The occurrence gave a general feeling
of insecurity to the whole Seriba; the people were afraid to move
about unarmed, and even in their ordinary domestic engagements carried
their guns under their arms. This excessive prudence on their part,
involving, as it did, a large increase of danger from firearms, was far
from agreeable to myself. The risk of being burnt out was still greater
than it had previously been, and not relishing my position in close
proximity to so many straw-huts, I was anxious to set up my quarters
at some little distance away; but Idrees, the controller, declared that
he should have to answer for my safety with his head, and would not
permit me to build outside the palisade.

On the 15th of September Mohammed Aboo Sammat passed through the
Seriba on his way to the river, with his store of ivory. It was a good
opportunity for me to send intelligence of myself to Europe; and, under
his care, my letters were despatched by the speediest route, so that
in the course of five months they were in the hands of my friends. A
fortnight sufficed for the indefatigable Mohammed to reach the Meshera,
start off his boats on their way to Khartoom, and return to our Seriba.

[Sidenote: A NEW PROTÉGÉ.]

Mohammed upon his return made me a present of a somewhat uncommon
description. On his way through the forest of Alwady he had fallen
in with a troop of elephants, two of which had been killed by his
people, one of them being a female that was accompanied by her still
sucking calf. The little elephant had been secured and attached to the
caravan, and on arriving at the Seriba was introduced to my quarters
as a gift to myself. I was in possession of a milch cow, and took
the greatest pains to cherish my new _protégé_ by supplying it with
large quantities of milk; but all my attention was in vain, the young
animal had been so weakened by improper or insufficient diet, and so
exhausted by the forced marches, that no subsequent care could save it,
and in a few days it expired. It was quite touching to watch the poor
helpless creature in its last gasps. Whoever has observed the eye of
the elephant will remember that, in spite of its smallness and natural
short-sightedness, it exhibits an intelligence, almost amounting to
reason, that is seen in no other quadruped. My juvenile specimen had
already begun to display the instinctive cleanliness of its nature. I
was told that on its journey it stopped at every pool and spring while
it pumped up the water with its trunk, and squirted it, as if from a
hose, all over its body to wash off the dust of the road and the mud
that it had contracted in crossing the swamps.

For my own amusement I had made a collection of several other animals,
which I lodged in my hut, in order to have them under constant
supervision and to be able to observe their habits. My menagerie
contributed very much to the characteristic features of my hut. Outside
were tethered my donkey and my cow; but the calf, being too delicate
to withstand the rain, was brought in at nights, and fastened to the
tall scaffolding which supported my bed, the noxious miasma during the
rainy period making it desirable for every traveller to spend his hours
of sleep raised as much as possible above the level of the ground.
Different corners of the hut, which was already encumbered with every
variety of furniture, were appropriated to my dogs, two caracal lynxes,
a ratel, or honey-badger, and a zebra-ichneumon. These creatures lived
in continual feud, and did not show the least likelihood of becoming “a
happy family.” The honey-badger and the ichneumon were perhaps the most
amicable, but even they were continually snapping at each other; still
they never came into any mortal conflict. But the caracals were utterly
implacable, and fought most savagely: in spite, however, of their
general faculty of self-defence, one of them in a desperate encounter
with a Bongo dog was bitten in the throat and died on the spot.

I had brought a large number of lances and of bows and arrows from the
Monbuttoo, and felt inclined not only to try the efficiency of the
weapons, but to test the marksmanship of the representatives of the
various tribes that were included in the promiscuous population of
the Seriba. Accordingly more than once I set up one of the Monbuttoo
shields as a target, and instituted a general shooting-match.
Tikkitikki was an eminently successful shot, the grotesque attitudes
into which he threw himself to exhibit his dexterity ever causing
a great diversion: I was, in fact, quite proud of my Pygmy, and his
reputation was so bruited about, that many Khartoomers came from
distant Seribas to gratify their curiosity by looking at him.

[Sidenote: WOUNDED BY AN ARROW.]

One evening during the exercises I met with an accident which might
have been serious, if not fatal, in its consequences. An iron arrow
struck my forehead and, although it only slightly grazed the skin, the
pain for a moment was quite agonizing; it soon passed off, however,
and I took no further notice of the matter than applying a little
goulard-water; but, according to my ordinary habit, I sat up writing
until late into the night, exposed to a draught at the entrance of my
hut, and caught a cold in the wound, which became exceedingly inflamed.
When I woke the next morning I was unable to open my eyes, and on
lifting up my eyelids with my fingers, I could see in my looking-glass
that my whole face was immensely swollen. Fearful of erysipelas, I
could devise nothing better than wrapping up my face in calico and
staying patiently in bed. On the third day I had the satisfaction of
finding that the inflammation had subsided, and that all fear of danger
was gone. In regions such as these the traveller cannot be too careful
in his treatment of even the most insignificant wound. Once before I
had experienced something of the sort during a forced march through the
desert about Thebes: a gnat had slightly stung my instep, and such a
violent inflammation had supervened that I had been obliged to keep my
bed for several days.

The proceeds of this year’s cattle-raids upon the Dinka had been
exceedingly large; and as Ghattas’s company had been prevented from
carrying out a Niam-niam campaign, they had been able to concentrate
all their forces for plunder. The captured cattle, under the charge
of a number of Dinka herdsmen, had been installed in a large yard set
apart for the purpose close to the Seriba. There was consequently no
lack of meat, and, at a very reduced price, I was allowed to purchase
whatever cattle I required to be slaughtered for myself and for my
people.

My milch cow was an almost invaluable possession. In spite of its
yield of milk being somewhat meagre, it supplied me for eight months
with a morning draught, and in the subsequent season of necessity
its contribution to my daily diet was still more precious. Half the
cattle sickened with all sorts of internal disorders, and the greater
proportion of the animals that were slaughtered would not much longer
have endured the climate. I am sure, however, that notwithstanding the
fact that these breeds have been entirely unaccustomed to salt, its
admixture with their food would infuse new life and vigour into them;
nothing but this, I feel convinced, kept up my own supply of milk and
prevented my cow from becoming emaciated; at first the dose had to be
administered by force, but the creature not only soon became accustomed
to it, but would run after me for a handful of salt, like a lap-dog for
its sugar.

During the rainy season of 1870 the Dinka cattle were decimated by
various plagues, and the district of the Lao was especially ravaged,
old Shol losing some thousand of her stock. The most common of these
cattle plagues was called Atyeng by the Dinka, showing itself by
open wounds like lance-cuts in the hoofs; sometimes the wounds would
make their appearance on the tongue, rendering the animal incapable
of grazing, so that it could get no nourishment, and sank through
exhaustion. Another malady, called Abwott, to which only the cows are
subject, consists of a swelling which affects the uterus, and carries
them off in a night. A third, known as the Odwangdwang, appears just
as contagious, though not so generally fatal as the two former; the
animals refuse their food for forty-eight hours, but, under favourable
circumstances, on the third day commence grazing again.

The Khareef of 1870 terminated on the 21st of September, no rain
falling after that date. A heavy fall of hail occurred on the 25th of
August, when the hailstones were as large as cherries; this was the
only time that I remember seeing hail within the tropics, although in
May 1864, when I was on the Egyptian coast of the Red Sea, just to
the north of the tropic of Cancer, I witnessed one of the severest
hailstorms that could be imagined.

This year’s rainy season was remarkable for the violence of the
separate storms, but also for the small number of decidedly wet days;
of these I counted ten in July, twelve in August, and ten in September,
the number altogether corresponding very nearly to what I had recorded
in the previous year. Nevertheless, the rainfall was so great that the
sorghum in all the low-lying fields rotted in the ground; the condition
of the crops, however, was equally bad in all places where the soil,
although rocky, was sloping, and threw off the water too rapidly, for
between the intervals of rain the heat of the sun was so overpowering
that the corn was parched up through being drained of moisture.

[Sidenote: METEOROLOGICAL NOTES.]

By reference to a few notes that I saved I find that the 4th of
October, in a meteorological point of view, was an important day, as
being the date on which the wind first veered round to the north-east.
I cannot speak positively as to the date when the south wind had first
set in, as I was absent amongst the Niam-niam and Monbuttoo at the
time; but my impression is that it was not far from the same time as in
the year before, viz., the 16th of March; thus the entire period during
which the south-west winds had been prevalent was seven months. But
although the north-east wind had thus commenced on the 4th of October,
there was no perceptible fall in the temperature until the 20th of
November; after that the thermometer at sunrise stood at about 70° Fahr.

As the flora at this season presented little with which I was not
already familiar, my time was spent very much under the same routine
as in the previous autumn; I continued my occupations of measuring
the natives, studying their dialects, collecting insects, preparing
skulls, and joining the people in chase of small birds. But, all along,
I did not lose sight of my projected journey, and applied all the
experience I had gained so that I might equip myself for renewing my
wanderings with the best advantage. My health was by no means impaired,
but, on the contrary, I had gained fresh vigour in the pure air of the
southern highlands, where I had undergone more fatigue than I could
have previously trusted myself to encounter; I came to the resolution,
therefore, that I need not fear to accompany Ghattas’s next expedition,
and visit the central portions of the Niam-niam countries that were
still unknown to me. The journey was specially attractive to me as
promising to enable me to complete my exploration of the hydrographical
system of the Gazelle, taking me as it would to the middle sections of
those rivers, which, indeed, I had already crossed, but only in their
upper and their lower courses. By this means I indulged the hope that,
under favourable circumstances, I might be able once for all to settle
the details of this particular district of the Nile territory, and so
to make one contribution more towards building up the true theory which
may solve the complicated problem of Central Africa.

Being desirous of making some exchanges and effecting some purchases
to complete my supplies, I set out on a tour to Kurshook Ali’s head
Seriba, with which I was already well acquainted. This excursion
occupied from the 24th of October until the 4th of November. The owner,
as already mentioned, had been sent out by the Egyptian Government
at the head of a body of troops; but before reaching the interior he
had succumbed to the pestilential climate of the Dinka, and had been
succeeded in command by a Turkish Aga, who had accompanied him as
lieutenant, and who, having broken up his camp in the Dinka country,
had turned farther to the west.

Credit had been opened for me in all the establishments of the
Khartoomers, and not only were the magazines of Kurshook Ali’s Seriba
amply supplied with stores, but Khalil, the controller, received me
hospitably and rendered me all possible service, so that I accomplished
my business most satisfactorily.

[Sidenote: ACROSS THE DYOOR AGAIN.]

The little trip gave me another opportunity of twice crossing the
Dyoor, and thus, by taking fresh measurements, of adding to the
information I had already gained about this important river. At ten
o’clock in the morning, when the atmosphere was at a temperature just
under 80° Fahr., the temperature of the water was just over 90°.

The passage over was effected in a ferry-boat of the most wretched
description; it was composed of nothing more than a couple of hollow
stems bound together by ropes and caulked with common clay, the
miserable craft demanding perpetual vigilance to keep it afloat at all.
It is a striking proof of the unconquerable indolence of the Nubians
that during their fifteen years’ residence in the land, although they
are beyond a question acquainted with the art of ship-building, they
have never attempted to construct an ordinary boat for the daily
passage of such an important river as this.

The aspect of the vegetation was very similar to that of late autumn
in Europe. Quite recently as the water had left the steppes, the low
parts of them were already beginning to look withered, and in the woods
the trees were rapidly becoming more and more bare. Amongst smaller and
less important plants I found a considerable number of new species,
which either had previously escaped my notice, or which probably do not
spring up until after the receding of the waters.

On our way back we were entertained in the little Seriba Dyoor Awet,
where roasted elephant-foot constituted the speciality of the repast.

Before we reached Aboo Guroon’s Seriba a ludicrous circumstance
occurred, which while it brought out afresh the evidence of the dastard
cowardice of my Niam-niam interpreter Gyabir, who had made such an
outcry when wounded in the arm by the A-Banga, at the same time exposed
me to the risk of losing one of my invaluable guns. He was marching
along in the rear of the caravan when a number of Dyoor chanced to
come across his path; mistaking them for Dinka, to whom they bore a
very decided resemblance, he took to his heels and made his way to the
most inaccessible part of the steppe, where he intended to remain till
night should enable him to escape unobserved. Our route led us so close
to the Dinka territory that we were aware no one could wander half a
league away without being in imminent peril of being captured; it was,
therefore, with no small concern that on our arrival we discovered that
Gyabir was missing. We could only conjecture that he had lost his way.
Aboo Guroon at once despatched his black soldiers in all directions,
but they returned at night without having discovered the least clue to
the whereabouts of the wanderer. Early next morning, to the general
surprise, Gyabir made his appearance; he acknowledged that he had heard
the shouts of the men who were making the search for him, but that he
could not venture to quit his place of concealment, because he was
thoroughly aware that if by any misadventure he should fall into the
hands of the Dinka, being a Niam-niam, he could have no hope of finding
any quarter.

Whilst here I received sad news of my friend Mohammed. On his way back
from the Meshera to Sabby he had hoped by taking a short cut through
the wilderness to avoid all conflict with the marauding parties of his
enemy Shereefee; but, in spite of all his precautions, his antagonist
had gained information of his movements, and, setting an ambush in the
forest, made a murderous attack upon him. The assault was far more
sanguinary in its results than that of the previous year. As usual the
Khartoomers refused to fire upon their compatriots, and Mohammed was
thus entirely dependent for his protection upon his black spearmen, of
whom several were killed. Mohammed’s cousin, who had brought the stores
from Khartoom, fell a victim to a gun-shot quite at the beginning of
the fray, and Mohammed himself received so many sabre cuts about his
face and head that, deluged in blood, he was left on the ground for
dead. Shereefee’s Bongo pursued Mohammed’s Bongo in all directions,
and Mohammed’s stores all became the spoil of Shereefee, who did not
as before scatter the beads and valuables about the ground, but had
everything conveyed to his own Seriba. The booty amounted in all to at
least two hundred packages. The shameless marauder made an avowed boast
of his achievements, ostentatiously displayed his ill-gotten wealth
to all around him, and even strutted about arrayed in Mohammed’s new
clothes.

[Sidenote: MOHAMMED AGAIN WOUNDED.]

In the course of the night Mohammed was picked up, apparently lifeless,
by his faithful blacks and carried to Sabby, where he received every
due attention, but it was some weeks before he was sufficiently
recovered to write an account of his misfortunes, which he despatched
to the friendly Seribas, sending it by witnesses who could explain the
true condition of affairs.

These events naturally excited the utmost indignation in the Seribas,
all the controllers of which were friendly and well-disposed towards
Mohammed. The slave-traders, on the contrary, who had settled in
the country, and all their adherents, took the part of Shereefee.
That a Mussulman, on a peaceful journey, should be the subject of a
premeditated attack by one of his own faith, was a circumstance without
a precedent even in this land of violence and club-law; but, what most
provoked my own anger and disgust was the cool indifference with which
the commander of the Egyptian troops (the lieutenant who had succeeded
Kurshook Ali) viewed the whole affair. When Mohammed appeared in
camp and demanded that retributive justice should be exacted for the
ill-treatment and loss that he had sustained, the commander endeavoured
to throw doubts upon all his statements, and did not hesitate, in spite
of the testimony of all the witnesses, to shield Shereefee, by whom,
no doubt, he had been previously bribed. Who shall say what order
or justice is to be expected in this land of license, when even the
Government official, sent out as the first representative of the State
to protect and administer its laws, could proceed to such a degree of
avaricious partiality? And yet the people in Khartoom have the audacity
to descant upon “the suppression of the slave-trade!”

Aboo Guroon, with whom I spent several pleasant days, was busy from
morning to night in his preparations for the forthcoming Niam-niam
campaign, and it afforded me much amusement to watch him as he sorted
out and packed his varied store of ammunition. Several companies had
combined for the expedition, and he invited me to remain and start with
him, as Ghattas’s party, to which I was attached, would not follow for
some weeks later.

In this common enterprise Aboo Guroon had a special interest of his
own, having but a short time since lost one of his Seribas in the
Niam-niam land. The garrison had been massacred, and all the arms and
ammunition had fallen into the hands of the sons of Ezo, who having
got possession of the weapons turned them to such good account that
they inspired the Nubians with great respect for their military skill.
These events had taken place to the west of my Niam-niam route, and had
an indirect connection with the proceedings taken against Mohammed by
Mbeeoh, who had been surprised by Aboo Guroon’s company in the same way
as the combined companies of Ghattas and Aboo Sammat. The scene of war
had merely been transferred from Mbeeoh’s territory to that of the sons
of Tombo and Ezo.

Although I should have much preferred to travel in company with Aboo
Guroon rather than with Ghattas’s agent, there was one insuperable
impediment: my baggage was not ready, and it would require some little
time to select the articles that would be of most practical use to me
as well as what would involve me in the smallest outlay for bearers.
I was obliged, therefore, to forego Aboo Guroon’s offer. If I had
joined him I should have escaped the calamity of fire from which I soon
afterwards suffered so severe a loss, but perhaps only to share a worse
fate, for Aboo Guroon was one of the first victims of an engagement
with the Niam-niam, a very few days after he set out.

[Sidenote: IVORY EXPEDITIONS.]

Just at this time all the controllers of the different Seribas were
actively engaged in preparing for their combined and extensive ivory
expedition. With their aggregated forces they hoped to subdue the
refractory chieftains in the north, who had been guilty of much
treachery towards the Nubians: their primary proceedings were to be
taken against Ndoruma, the daring son of Ezo.

It had been the rapid diminution of the ivory in these districts that
had caused the Khartoomers of late to direct their expeditions to the
territories of the powerful kings of the south, leaving the smaller
chieftains with a comparatively insignificant interest in the traffic.
These chieftains, therefore, did all in their power to obstruct the
progress of the Nubians, and endeavoured by foul means, instead of
by fair, to obtain a share of the copper which they coveted. They
commenced a system of hostility to get possession of the store of metal
which, as long as they had ivory to dispose of, had come to them in
the peaceful way of commerce. To the dismay of the Khartoomers, the
natives soon showed that they were quite capable of putting whatever
firearms they captured to a formidable use, and I shall very soon have
to relate how completely all the Niam-niam expeditions came to grief
in consequence of the vigorous opposition of the natives.

Meanwhile I was fully occupied by my preparation for the long journey
before me. My anticipations were not to be realised. Just at the time
when I was rejoicing that my health had braved all the perils of the
climate and my good fortune seemed to be at its height, I was doomed
to drink of that bitter cup of disappointment from which none of my
predecessors in Central Africa have been exempt.

FOOTNOTES:

[55] This is the Mundo of Petherick.

[56] The portrait of a Babuckur woman is given in the
subsequent chapter on the slave-trade.

[57] _Vide_ ‘Barth’s Travels,’ vol. ii. p. 254.

CHAPTER XX.

A disastrous day. Failure to rescue my effects. Burnt Seriba
by night. Comfortless bed. A wintry aspect. Rebuilding the
Seriba. Cause of the fire. Idrees’s apathy. An exceptionally
wet day. Bad news of Niam-niam expedition. Measuring distance
by footsteps. Start to the Dyoor. Khalil’s kind reception.
A restricted wardrobe. Temperature at its minimum. Corn
requisitions of Egyptian troops. Slave trade carried on
by soldiers. Suggestions for improved transport. Chinese
hand-barrows. Defeat of Khartoomers by Ndoruma. Nubians’ fear
of bullets. A lion shot. Nocturnal disturbance. Measurements
of the river Dyoor. Hippopotamus hunt. Habits of hippopotamus.
Hippopotamus fat. Nile whips. Recovery of a manuscript.
Character of the Nubians. Nubian superstitions. Strife in the
Egyptian camp.

The description which has already been given of the large establishment
owned by the firm of Ghattas, where, with all my provisions, I was
now awaiting the start of the caravan, must have made the place in a
large degree familiar to the reader. For the dearer apprehension of the
event I have now to relate it may be advisable to repeat the following
particulars. The colony consisted of about six hundred huts and sheds,
which were built almost entirely of straw and bamboo. In the intervals
between the huts were erected the large sun-screens known as “rokooba,”
which were made of the same materials; and, to separate allotment
from allotment, there were long lines of fences, which were likewise
composed of straw, and these were arranged so close to each other that
they scarcely admitted the narrowest of passages, perhaps but a few
feet across, to run between them. Everything that human ingenuity could
contrive seemed to have been done to insure that, with the cessation
of the rainy season there should commence a period of the extremest
peril, and, for myself, I can avow that fear of fire became my bugbear
by day and my terror by night. In spite of my remonstrances I saw the
crowding together of the huts continually become more and more dense,
and the enclosure packed full to the utmost limits of its capacity.
It became a manifest impossibility in the case of the occurrence of
fire, on however small a scale, to prevent it spreading into such
a conflagration that the safety of the whole establishment must be
imperilled. The material of the structures, dried in the tropical heat,
would accelerate and insure the devastation that must necessarily ensue.

The catastrophe, which I had dreaded with such ominous apprehension,
befell us at midday on the 1st of December.

This most disastrous day of my life had opened in the accustomed
carrying out of its routine. I had been engaged all the morning with my
correspondence and in arranging the notes of the various occurrences
that had transpired since the despatch of my previous budget. I had
partaken of my frugal midday meal, and was just on the point of
resuming my writing, when all at once I caught the sound of the excited
Bongo shrieking out “poddu, poddu” (fire, fire!) Long, how long none
can tell, will the memory of this burst of alarm haunt my ear. It makes
me shudder even now. Eager to know the truth, and to ascertain how far
the ill-omened apparition of misfortune had already spread, I rushed to
the doorway of my hut, and beheld that the devouring element was doing
its work at a distance of only three huts from my own; the flame was
rising fiercely from the top of a hut; there was no room for hope; just
at that time of day the north-east wind always blew with its greatest
violence, and it was only too plain that the direction of the gale was
bringing the fire straight towards my residence. The space of a few
minutes was all that remained for me to rescue what I could.

[Sidenote: MY DISASTER.]

Without an instant’s delay, my people flocked to the scene of the
alarm. Without stopping to discuss what was most prudent or to consider
what was most valuable, they laid hold upon anything that came to hand.
The negro-boys took particular care of all the stuffs, and of their
own clothes as being of the greatest consequence in their estimation,
and by their means all my bedding and two of my leathern portmanteaus
were carried safely out of the Seriba. I myself flung my manuscript
into a great chest which had already been provided against any accident
of the sort, but my care was of no avail. My servants succeeded in
hastily conveying five of my largest boxes and two cases to the open
space of the Seriba where the direction of the wind made us presume
they would be out of danger; but we only too soon learnt our mistake;
the wind chopped and veered about, and the hot blasts fanned the flames
in every direction till there was hardly a place to stand, and it was
hopeless to reckon upon any more salvage. A prompt retreat became
absolutely necessary; great masses of burning straw began to fall in
every quarter, and the high fences of straw left but narrow avenues by
which we could escape. The flames sometimes seemed to rise to a height
of a hundred feet above the combustible structures of dry grass, and
then all at once they would descend, but only to lick with destructive
fury some adjacent spot, while a perpetual shower of hot sparks glared
again in the roaring air. The crowds, as they rushed away before the
advancing flames, were like a swarm of flies buzzing around a lighted
torch. I cast a look towards the remnant of my property which we had
thought we had rescued, and to my horror I perceived that the chests
were enveloped in smoke, and immediately afterwards were encircled
by the flames. It was a moment of despair. How my heart sank at the
sight none can imagine, for those chests contained all my manuscripts,
journals, and records, in comparison with which the loss of all the
effects in my hut appeared utterly insignificant, though they were the
burdens of a hundred bearers. Regardless of the shower of sparks, which
singed off my very hair, I made a frantic rush forwards, the dogs, with
their feet all scorched, howling at my side, and breathlessly stopped
under a tree, where I found a shelter alike from the raging of the
ardent flame and from the noonday glare. In the confusion of the flight
I had been unable to get my hat, and was thus fully exposed to the
midday heat.

Below us from amidst the crackling waves of fire came the crashing
noise of the roofs as they collapsed, and ever and again there broke
forth the louder report caused by the explosion of our ammunition,
and many a loaded gun that had been left behind discharged itself and
exposed the fugitives to a new and random danger. The Nubians behaved
themselves with a strange composure, not to say indifference; the
majority had little or nothing to lose, yet many an account-book must
have perished in the flames, so that not a few of them hoped to turn
the disaster to a profitable account. The priests, however, were not
quite so unmoved; they stood before their doors and howled out the
shrieking formulæ of their incantations, by which they pretended to
control the course of the raging fire. It was very remarkable that the
spot where a Faki had been buried, and which was marked with a white
banner to distinguish it as a place for prayer, was spared from the
general conflagration, although it was within a few yards of where my
burnt chests had been laid. The departed Faki was now as good as a
canonised saint, and had proved himself a genuine sheikh.

The entire Seriba by this time was wrapped in flames, which seemed
still to spread in every quarter. The wind, as it rose, carried away
with it whole bundles of smouldering straw, which it soon fanned into
fire amidst the huts that were scattered round on the exterior of the
palisade.

[Sidenote: THE RESIDUE OF MY EFFECTS.]

Very dry at this season, the steppe had hitherto been preserved,
because the harvest was not yet complete, and it was not very long
before this too was caught by the raging fire, and even the old trees
around did not escape, so that it seemed almost as if the whole
district were being submerged in a sea of flame. Half an hour had
completed the great work of devastation. After that period it was
possible to make a dash between the charred posts of the huts, but
only for a few moments, so intense was the heat of the ground and
so overpowering the glowing atmosphere that pervaded the scene of
destruction. A crowd of people kept on bringing vessels of water to try
and extinguish the flames before they had totally destroyed the clay
“googahs” which held the sole supply of corn.

After a while I succeeded in getting to my garden, which, bereft of the
greater part of its recently-constructed hedge of bamboo, presented a
truly melancholy aspect. As the sun sank low we began to make a search
for anything that might have been spared amidst the still glowing
embers of the huts. I had saved little beyond my life. I had lost all
my clothes, my guns, and the best part of my instruments. I was without
tea and without quinine. As I stood gazing upon the piles of ashes I
could not help reckoning up the accumulation of my labours which had
there, beneath them all, been buried in this hapless destiny. All my
preparations for the projected expedition to the Niam-niam; all the
produce of my recent journey; all the entomological collection that
I had made with such constant interest; all the examples of native
industry which I had procured by so much care; all my registers of
meteorological events which had been kept day by day and without
interruption ever since my first departure from Suakin, and in which
I had inscribed some 7000 barometrical observations; all my journals,
with their detailed narrative of the transactions of 825 days; all
my elaborate measurements of the bodies of the natives, which I had
been at so much pains and expense to induce them to permit; all my
vocabularies, which it had been so tedious a business to compile;
everything, in the course of a single hour; everything was gone, the
plunder of the flames. It had been for the sake of better protection,
as I thought, that I had resolved not to part with my journals, and had
kept my collection of insects in my own possession; I had been afraid
of any misadventure befalling them; but now they might just as well
have been at the bottom of the Nile.

There I sat amongst my tobacco-shrubs upon my stock of bedding that
had been rescued from the flames; but I fear that I could not boast
of overmuch of the spirit of resignation. The entire remnant of my
property was soon reckoned up; it consisted of a couple of chests, my
three barometers, an azimuth-compass, and the ironwork which survived
from the different productions of the Niam-niam and Monbuttoo.

Evening drew on: just as usual, the cow with her calf came and provided
me with two glasses of milk. I had a yam or two, a picking from the
inside of a half-burnt tuber, a morsel from a similarly half-burnt
lump of pickled meat, and I had come to the end of my slender stock of
provisions. My dogs kept up a continual howling; their sufferings from
their burnt feet must have been excessive, and they whined in concert
with the general desolation. The servants, however, were as calm and
undisturbed as usual. Neither the Nubians nor the negroes seemed to be
much concerned; and why should they? They had just nothing to lose.

I looked around and counted up my party. It consisted of seven bipeds
and seven quadrupeds; the same number of each, and each of about the
same sensibility.

When the darkness of night had really set in, the region of the Seriba
had all the aspect of an active colliery. The venerable fig-tree in
front of the main entrance was still flaring away, and the palisade was
yet burning, apparently shutting in the scene of ruin with a garland of
light. It was a ghastly illumination. To the Nubians the spectacle was
not altogether a novelty. The sight of a negro village in flames was
to them familiar enough; but now the tables were turned, and they had
to learn for themselves what it is to be hungry and destitute of every
prospect of supply. Such were the conditions under which that night we
had to seek our rest.

[Sidenote: DESOLATION.]

Hardly anything could be more impressive than the scene that revealed
itself on the following morning. Not merely the places where the fire
had raged, but the regions around were strewn with a thick layer of
ashes; the steppes and sorghum-fields were whitened with them. It would
be easy to have imagined that the glowing green of the tropics had for
a time retreated, and allowed itself to be replaced by a gloomy and
wintry vegetation transported from the arctic zone. Almost as white as
snow were the layers of ashes that had settled on the sorghum-fields,
only broken by the heaps of half-burnt clods that rose like hillocks of
turf upon a moor. The smoke still lingered on the ground, and veiled
the general scene; the trees seemed to stretch out their dry bare arms
to heaven, and helped to complete the resemblance to the winterly
aspect of the frozen world.

It was a pitiful sight to watch the brown and swarthy figures of the
negroes, wrapped in their brown and swarthy rags, run hither and
thither amongst the still smouldering ruins; and the wretchedness
of the view was not a little aggravated by the bloated carcases of
half-roasted donkeys and sheep that lay scattered about in various
parts. Troops of women were bustling about and carrying water-vessels
of every sort, eager in their endeavours to put out the lurking fire
that was threatening the corn-magazines that hitherto had escaped.
These clay-built reservoirs of corn were the only memorials that
seemed to survive the devastation. Blackened indeed by the smoke,
the “googahs” were still erect. Varying in height from five feet to
seven, they were hardly ever wanting in the homes either of the Dyoor
or Dinka: and now as they stood surmounting the otherwise universal
_débris_, their very numbers made them conspicuous, and, forming a
fantastic feature in the scene, gave their testimony as to what had
been the crowded proximity of hut to hut.

Hurrying up from the surrounding country, the natives flocked to search
for beads amidst the ruins, although every bead must necessarily have
been spoilt. Others of them, with a better purpose, set to work to
construct sheds of straw for the shelter of the houseless.

The next day was opened with a general effort to restore the buildings
of the Seriba. Hundreds of Bongo, Dyoor, and Dinka brought the
necessary wood, straw, and bamboos, and proceeded to construct their
new huts with much dexterity: on an average, six men would completely
finish a hut twenty feet in diameter in a couple of days.

No common sense had been learnt through the late calamity, for not only
was the Seriba erected on the selfsame spot, but in the selfsame manner
as before. The fear of being assassinated by the Dinka was assigned as
the reason for refusing to follow the example of Khalil, the controller
of Kurshook Ali’s Seriba, who, in rebuilding his establishment, had
insisted upon placing the Vokeel’s residence and the magazines alone
within the palisade, leaving the soldiers’ huts in detached groups
outside. In vain, day after day, did I repeat my warning of the danger
they were inviting of the repetition of a similar misfortune; but all
my exhortations to care and prudence were utterly wasted; the people
were obstinate, and I could not help passing many a sleepless night
in continual dread of a second catastrophe that I was aware I was
powerless to avert.

[Sidenote: ORIGIN OF THE MISFORTUNE.]

The cause of the fire, when subsequently discovered, did not give me
the least surprise. One of Ghattas’s soldiers had been quarrelling
with his slave, having accused her of unfaithfulness; and in order to
frighten her, and extort a confession of her guilt, he had discharged
a gun into the interior of his hut. I afterwards remembered hearing
the report; as gunshots, however, were far from uncommon, I paid
no particular attention to the circumstance: but the smouldering
paper-cartridge had lodged in the straw-roof, and ten minutes later
the hut was in flames. Although the origin of the fire was thus easily
explained, the Mohammedan fatalists never swerved from their belief
that the misfortune was unavoidable, and was ordained by the decree of
destiny.

All my reproaches failed to reach the real offender, who immediately
after the fire quitted the scene of the disaster he had brought about.
But, in my opinion, Idrees, the controller, was himself primarily
responsible for all the trouble. He allowed a senseless firing to be
carried on inside the Seriba, not only at every new moon, but on a
hundred other occasions, and I was in a perpetual state of vexation
and anger whenever I saw the lighted wads flying about amongst the
dry straw-roofs: then, again, he allowed each person to increase the
number of his huts, rokoobas, and hedges, just as he liked, until the
appearance of the Seriba was that of an inexplicable maze. In his
capacity of Vokeel it was undoubtedly his place to allot a proper space
to each individual; but so far from seeing that this was legitimately
done, he himself did his utmost to increase the complication of
buildings, and had erected a huge rokooba for his horse just in
front of my hut; it was this very rokooba that had been the means of
communicating the flames to the chests containing my manuscripts, as
they stood on a portion of what, previously to its erection, had been a
wide open space.

By the 11th of December some newly-built huts were at my disposal, a
place of security on that day proving doubly welcome, as a heavy storm
of rain came on about four o’clock in the morning, lasting for quite
half an hour. This exceptional storm rose from the south-east, veered
round to the south, and finally passed away towards the south-west.
The entire day remained cold and dull, with slight showers falling
at intervals. For the first time the temperature fell to 65° Fahr.,
having previously varied between 75° and 80°. The coldest season of the
year now set in, and lasted for a couple of months; during this time
the thermometer in the early morning was comparatively low, and the
barometer varied much more continually than in the height of the rainy
season.

Bad news flies apace, and following close upon the destruction of
the Seriba came the intelligence of the total defeat of that first
detachment of the Niam-niam expedition that had been despatched to
the south; besides a number of native bearers, 150 Mohammedans were
reported to have lost their lives.

The immediate effect of these disastrous tidings was to make me know
that all hope of extending my wanderings in that direction must finally
be abandoned. Bitter as had been the misfortune that had befallen me,
it would not of itself have deterred me from my project of a second
Niam-niam journey, but, now that Aboo Guroon was killed, there was
no one who could provide me afresh with such articles as I had lost.
I possessed neither boots nor shoes, guns nor ammunition, paper nor
instruments, and even my watches, which were so essential to me, were
gone; what use then to think any further of a journey to unknown
countries under such circumstances as these? Convinced of the vanity of
any attempt to proceed, I was therefore obliged, with a heavy heart, to
turn my thoughts towards Europe; no succours could reach me for more
than a year, and even then my great distance from Egypt made their safe
arrival more than doubtful.

Still more than six months remained before the trading-boats would
start on their return journey down the Nile; I felt bound to employ
this time to the best of my powers, and I was not long left to make
up my mind as to what I would do. Amongst the few of my effects that
were snatched from the flames I discovered ink, together with materials
for writing and drawing: and the sight of some sketches that had
accidentally been rescued with my bedding first roused me from my
feelings of total despair, and told me that I must once again begin
to collect and investigate, and preserve my observations by means of
pen and pencil. Necessarily somewhat depressed in spirits I once again
turned to as many of my former pursuits as I could, although I felt
the increasing pressure of poverty and hardship, and was as dependent
as a beggar upon the hospitality of the Nubians, many of whom viewed
my presence in the country with suspicion and distrust. My present
discomfort was still further aggravated by its contrast with the
comparative ease and abundance which the arrival of my European stores
had latterly afforded me.

[Sidenote: FAREWELL TO THE SERIBA.]

I came to the resolution of quitting the scene of my disaster, and,
accompanied by my servants, determined to withdraw to Kurshook
Ali’s[58] Seriba beyond the Dyoor, where I knew that Khalil, the
kind-hearted controller, would render me what relief he could under my
present urgent necessities, although the amenities of life to which the
Nubians had any pretension were very few. Accordingly on the 16th of
December, followed by a small herd of cows, I turned my back upon the
Seriba that had arisen from the ashes of its predecessor, and started
by a new and more southerly route for my intended quarters.

For nearly three years my watches had gone with remarkable accuracy,
they were ordinary Geneva _ancres perfectionnées_, having cost about
twenty-five thalers a-piece; their loss was quite irreparable, for the
Nubians have no other means of computing time than upon the great
dial of the firmament,[59] which requires no winding up, and they tell
the hour of the day by simply observing the position of the sun in the
heavens. The only resource left to me for estimating the distance that
I travelled was to count my steps, and in my despondency over my losses
I found a kind of melancholy satisfaction in the performance of this
monotonous task, which probably had never fallen before to the lot of
any other African traveller. My patience, however, was, as it were, an
anchor of safety that I threw out after my calamity: I seemed to myself
like a ship, which, though seaworthy in itself, has thrown overboard
its cargo as the only hope of getting into port. An enthusiast I set
out, enraptured with nature in her wildest aspect, and an enthusiast
should I have remained, had not the fire clipped my wings; but now,
helpless on the inhospitable soil of Africa, I could not but be
conscious how powerless I was to contend with the many obstacles,
both physical and material, that beset my path; but in the place of
enthusiasm, patience, that overcomes all misfortune, came to my aid,
did me good service, and kept me from sinking.

[Sidenote: A PERAMBULATOR.]

I must confess that the first few days’ journey threatened to exhaust
what spirit still remained to me, but by degrees my equanimity was
restored, and persevering in my design I soon became accustomed to a
practice to which I owe some of the most reliable results of the survey
of my route. As a consequence of this method of counting my steps I
succeeded in attaining very considerable accuracy in the relative
distances noted on the map, although very probably I may have been
unable to avoid an error of from 5 to 8 per cent. in the absolute
distances themselves; of course, my steps were not so perfectly uniform
in length as the divisions of a measuring rod; but, after all, the
footsteps of a man are a much more accurate standard of measurement
than those of a beast; the camel, for instance, as is well known, when
it is urged to greater speed does not increase the number of its steps,
but only increases their length; whilst the paces of a man, at whatever
rate he may walk, do not vary much from an average length. Anyone
may easily put this matter to the test for himself by measuring the
distance between his footprints on the moist side of a river, and he
will find that no increase nor diminution in his rate of progress will
make a very material difference in their successive distances. My own
paces varied, according to the nature of the roads, from two feet to
two feet four inches in length, and my method of computation is readily
described. I first counted hundreds, telling off each separate hundred
on my fingers; when I had reached five hundred I made a stroke in my
note-book, and on reaching another five hundred I made a reverse stroke
upon the one already made, thus forming a cross, so that every registry
of a cross betokened a thousand paces; all beyond five hundred were
carried on towards the next stroke, and between the various strokes and
crosses I inserted abbreviated symbols, as notes about the condition
and direction of the road; thus I was prevented from either over or
under estimating the number of my steps, and at the close of each
day’s march was able at my leisure to sum up all the entries and duly
record the result in my diary. In the six months that elapsed before my
embarkation at the Meshera I had in this way taken account of a million
and a quarter of my footsteps.

The route which I had taken towards the Dyoor led through Dubor and
Dangah. On the 16th of December the Molmul was still full of water,
but had no longer any perceptible current; the brook passed along
a considerable, though gradual depression, the rising ground about
Dubor being visible for a long distance to the west. All the pools
and ponds by the wayside were now completely dry; a couple of swamps
were all that remained of the affluent to which the copious brook
near Okale,[60] with its surrounding groves of wine-palms, owes its
existence. The Nyedokoo was reduced to half its former dimensions, and
was now but fifteen feet wide and three deep, although the current was
still strong.

Before its union with the Dyoor, the Nyedokoo receives a considerable
increase in its waters from the left, and on our way north-west from
Dangah we had to cross two small brooks, both flowing into the Dyoor;
the larger of these was called the Kullukungoo. We made a short halt
in a little Seriba belonging to Agahd’s company, and then began to
descend the eastern side of the valley of the Dyoor, which might be
described as a steep wall of rock eighty feet in height. We marched for
a distance of four miles through a lovely wood on the right bank of
the river, and were greatly diverted by the extraordinary quantity of
hippopotamuses that frequented this part of the stream.

[Sidenote: COSTUME.]

I had the kindest of receptions from my old friend Khalil, who did all
that lay in his power to make my visit enjoyable, and showed great
sympathy with me in my misfortunes. His magazines were plentifully
stored with stuffs and ammunition, and, as I had unlimited credit with
him, he was able to supply me with some of the articles that were
more immediately necessary. In the Seriba I found some people who
understood something of the art of tailoring, and with their help I
set to work, to the best of my ability, to make good the defects of
my wardrobe. By taking to pieces the few garments that remained to
me and using the fragments for patterns, I managed to procure some
new clothes, all of which I cut out myself. In none of the Seribas
was there a single piece of linen or of any durable material, and I
could obtain nothing stronger than their thin calico, which, however
well it might do for the costume of the effeminate Arabs, was hardly
adapted for the pursuits of a hunter and botanist who spent all his
days in thorny thickets. But a still more serious inconvenience was
the want of any proper protection for my feet, and I could not at all
get accustomed to wearing the light slippers of the Turks. The loss,
too, of my hat was irreparable, but I contrived a sort of substitute
by pasting together some thick cartridge-paper and sewing some white
stuff over the whole; this hat possessed considerable durability, and
in lightness was all that I could desire. In spite of the poverty of my
wardrobe I was rejoiced to find that in cleanliness at least it was a
match for that of the Khartoomers, who attach great importance to their
washing-garments being of a spotless whiteness. The superiors amongst
them, such as the Vokeels and the agents of the trading firms, even in
these remote districts, not unfrequently appear in Oriental costume as
gorgeous as though they were parading the streets of Khartoom; they
all possess cloth clothes made in the Egyptian Mamelook fashion, and
these are donned on special occasions, as, for instance, whenever they
pay formal visits to their neighbours. For my own part I could never
consent to array myself in an Oriental costume, knowing that the most
meagre garb of European cut commands far higher respect throughout
the domains of the Egyptian Viceroy than all the most brilliant and
elaborate uniforms of the East. The adoption of the European style of
dress in Egypt itself has been remarkably rapid, and between the years
1863 and 1871 I noticed a very conspicuous alteration in this respect,
although unfortunately the advance was limited to this external aspect.

The 25th of December was the coldest day that I experienced during my
residence in the interior. Half an hour before sunrise the thermometer
registered 60° Fahrenheit, whilst on the two preceding mornings at
the same hour it had stood at about 62° Fahrenheit; but it never
afterwards fell so low again, and notwithstanding the coldness of
the mornings the temperature at midday rose regularly above 85°
Fahrenheit, and on the 28th the thermometer out of doors and exposed
to a north wind registered 96° Fahrenheit in the shade, whilst inside
the huts it rose no higher than 88° Fahrenheit. The uniformity of the
temperature throughout the year is a remarkable peculiarity of these
far inland districts, which in winter-time are neither subject to the
great heat in the middle of the day nor to the cold by night, which are
experienced in the steppes and deserts of Nubia. The temperature of
60° Fahrenheit was the lowest that was registered during a residence
of two years and a half, and was quite exceptional, only lasting for
a couple of hours just before sunrise. As a comparison between this
and the relatively cool climate of Tropical America I may mention that
observations in Guatemala gave the average temperature for a period of
twelve years as the same as this one exceptional minimum registered
throughout my two and a half years’ residence in Central Africa.

The camp of the Egyptian Government troops had been removed to the
west, and was now a good seven days’ march beyond the Dyoor. For
the maintenance of the troops, contributions were levied on all the
Seribas: the Government, it is true, paid two Maria Theresa dollars
for each ardeb (1½ cwt.) of corn; but as the bearers from the more
remote places were obliged either to consume more than half of their
own loads upon their journey, or else to obtain extra provisions from
the Seribas through which they passed, this payment was necessarily
very inadequate. Some of the controllers managed to raise their portion
of the compulsory tribute by sending herds of cattle to those Seribas
that were nearest to the camp, and there getting them exchanged for
the required corn; but as some of the settlements were as much as
twenty days’ journey from the encampment, it was perfectly impossible
to provide means of transport to such a distance, and besides this
difficulty, there was a constant occurrence of scarcity of corn in all
the Seribas; the unreasonable Turkish commander, however, took not the
smallest heed of these inconveniences, but, by insisting upon the full
satisfaction of his demands, went far towards hurrying the settlements
into bankruptcy and ruin.

Instead of introducing order and regularity into the country, the
first measures of the Government official tended only to engender
odium and discontent, and completely crippled all the more promising
tendencies of the mercantile intercourse of the Seribas. For the
suppression of the slave-trade they did absolutely nothing. Along the
Nile, it is true, where the route was open and everything obliged to
be above-board, the Governor-General had commenced proceedings for the
suppression of the slave-trade by a series of bombastic and pompous
proclamations; but here, in the deep interior, there was every facility
for the carrying on of the avowedly prohibited traffic.

[Sidenote: SURREPTITIOUS SLAVE-TRADE.]

Nowhere in the world can more inveterate slave-dealers be found than
the commanders of the small detachments of Egyptian troops; as they
move about from Seriba to Seriba, they may be seen followed by a train
of their swarthy property, which grows longer and longer after every
halt.

In the course of my narrative I have repeatedly shown that the
inadequacy of the means of transport throws great difficulties in
the way of the maintenance of a large and concentrated body of men.
Fifty pounds is the standard weight of a bearer’s burden on the longer
journeys, and it does not require much calculation to make it evident
that in comparatively a few days this burden will be materially
encroached upon by the bearer himself having to be maintained by
means of what he carries; he must necessarily exhaust it by his own
requirements. Thus, for marches of many days’ duration, man becomes the
most unsuitable of all instruments for transporting provisions. It was,
therefore, not unnaturally a matter of constant consideration with me
as to whether this difficulty might be obviated in any way, and whether
longer expeditions might be undertaken into the interior without that
continual risk of the failure of their means of subsistence, which was
now so perpetually threatening them as often as they had to make their
way either across uninhabited wildernesses or through hostile territory.

The introduction into these lands of carts drawn by oxen, such as are
in use in South Africa, could only be done with very great caution,
as it would involve much outlay both of time and money; in the first
place, the transport of the heavy waggons themselves into the country
would be far from easy, and then drivers who could train the beasts to
their work would have to be obtained from remote districts; and even if
these preliminary obstacles were overcome, it remains somewhat doubtful
whether the breed of Dinka cattle could produce animals of sufficient
strength and powers of endurance for such a purpose. In addition to all
this I have already shown, in my account of my Niam-niam journey, that
it would be impossible to penetrate with bullock-waggons of any sort
beyond latitude 5° N.

It has been proved by experience that all donkeys, mules, horses, and
camels succumb sooner or later to the effects of the climate; thus
oxen would remain the only animals available as beasts of burden; but
as those of the Dinka would be as incapable of carrying loads as of
drawing waggons, it would be necessary to import suitable cattle from
the Baggara Arabs, thus following the example of the slave-traders from
Kordofan and Darfoor, who thence obtain all the animals that they use
for riding.

Any sort of hand-truck in these countries must necessarily be limited
to a single wheel, for, as I have often said, the paths are everywhere
quite narrow, being in fact no wider than ordinary wheel-ruts; in most
cases they barely allow any one whilst he is walking to put one foot
before the other, as the tall grass closely hems in the avenue on
either hand.

[Sidenote: SUGGESTION FOR HAND-TRUCKS.]

After giving much attention to the subject, I am convinced that the
most suitable form for any hand-trucks would be something like that
used by the Chinese, running upon a single large wheel, which the
framework that contains the goods spans like a bridge; a construction
which, it is well known, permits loads of considerable weight to be
moved by one man. In Central Africa, however, these trucks would have
to be made chiefly of steel and iron, and ought to be constructed so
that they should be propelled by a couple of men, one pushing behind
and one pulling in front, by means of two poles run longitudinally
through the barrows. They would then, I think, be applicable to
every variety of soil, and would be equally adapted for the swamps
and for the flooded depressions of the rivers, for the rocky ground
of the mountainous regions, for the densest forest, and for what to
broader waggons would present hardly inferior difficulties—for the
open steppes. I should estimate that, at a very moderate computation,
trucks of this build could bear upwards of five hundredweight; and
thus the traveller would find the number of men he wanted reduced to
one-fifth, and still be in a position to convey everything that was
really necessary. In 1870 I drew the attention of African travellers
to this style of truck, made almost exactly upon the principle of the
Chinese hand-barrows, and I have since submitted it to the notice of
the German African Society, just now formed, in the hopes that it may
not immaterially assist their expedition from the coast of Loango.

I spent the remainder of the year in Kurshook Ali’s Seriba. Whilst I
was there, some Nubian soldiers arrived, who, having been eye-witnesses
of the late engagement with the Niam-niam, brought us more
circumstantial evidence of the defeat that the united forces of the
several trading companies had suffered. The caravan had been composed
from the three companies of Aboo Guroon, Hassaballa, and Kurshook
Ali, and included a larger number of bearers than it was customary to
take into the Niam-niam lands; thus the entire party numbered close
upon 2250, of which not less than 300 were provided with firearms.
The accompanying train of women slaves, that had never been tolerated
at all in the earlier expeditions, had been gradually increasing from
year to year, and was now of such dimensions as materially to impede
the daily movements of the Khartoomers, as well as to increase the
confusion in the event of war. The leaders had striven in vain to do
away with this abuse, but as it was with some difficulty that these
undisciplined soldiers could be prevailed upon to join the arduous
enterprises at all, they were obliged in this respect at least to let
them have their own way. The assault had been made at a spot about a
day’s journey to the north of the residence of Ndoruma, the son of
Ezo, just as the caravan with all the baggage was entering the obscure
gallery of a bank-forest, and after the two leaders, Aboo Guroon and
Ahmed Awat, on their mules at the head of the procession, had already
emerged from the farther end. To the consternation of the Nubians,
the attack was rendered doubly formidable by the skilful use of the
firearms which the Niam-niam employed against them from behind the
massive tree-stems. Cut off from their people, the two leaders were
killed at the outset of the conflict, the one by a lance and the other
by a bullet.

[Sidenote: A REPULSE.]

During the whole course of the battle, Aboo Guroon’s people alone
displayed any shadow of bravery. A detachment forced their way through
the gallery, and rescued the body of their leader from the hands of the
enemy, so that this old servant of Petherick, one of the earliest and
most experienced of the traders with the Niam-niam, was consigned to an
honourable grave, whilst the dead bodies of all his fellow-sufferers
fell into the hands of the Niam-niam. Ndoruma, who led on the attack in
person, had some months previously captured large quantities of guns
and ammunition, and as he was in possession of several fugitive slaves
from the Seribas who had been familiarised with the use of firearms,
he had lost little time in compelling them to impart their knowledge
to their fellow-countrymen. The Nubians have the most pusillanimous
dread of bullets, and any savage nation that enjoys the reputation of
having guns in its possession may be tolerably sure of being spared any
visits from them. It may therefore be imagined with what success the
Niam-niam pursued their victory, and with what disgrace the intruders
retreated in hasty flight. All the baggage, including a hundred loads
of powder and ammunition, fell into the bands of Ndoruma; and a proper
value the cunning cannibal seemed to know how to set upon his booty,
for I was informed, that he at once erected waterproof magazines for
the protection of his treasure, and diligently set to work to have his
people well-drilled in the use of the weapons they had captured.

From what I could gather from some Niam-niam with whom I had
communication, Ndoruma’s enmity towards the Khartoomers was not
entirely founded upon the exhaustion of the ivory-produce of his
country. The Nubians, too short-sighted to foresee the consequences of
their folly, are accustomed, whenever they can do so without injury to
themselves, to commence an unjustifiable system of depredations upon
any land from which they have no longer anything to gain by an amicable
trade. In this way they have acted with impunity to themselves towards
the Bongo, Mittoo, and others; but with the Niam-niam, a people whose
strength consists in their constitutional unity, they have exposed
themselves to a severe retribution. In their repeated razzias against
the surrounding nations they have been addicted to the practice of
carrying off the women and girls, and this has roused the Niam-niam,
who ever exhibit unbounded affection for their wives, to the last
degree of exasperation. It is this diabolical traffic in human beings
that acts as the leading incentive to these indiscriminating Nubians,
and has caused so much detriment, by the decimation of the Bongo, to
their possessions. In one part, as amongst the Bongo, it has resulted
in bringing about an insufficiency of labour, and in another, as
amongst the Niam-niam, it has thrown a barricade of hostility across
their further progress.

Of the three companies that had met with this serious repulse, Kurshook
Ali’s company had suffered the smallest loss; its column of bearers,
who were bringing up the rear of the procession, had retreated in time;
but of the soldiers of the company, who had naturally hastened to the
assistance of their fellow-countrymen, ten were killed and four more
were carried away severely wounded. According to the protocol that
Khalil received, all of these had been pierced by bullets. Apart from
the grievous loss of life and property that this occurrence entailed,
it foreboded nothing but discouragement for the future of the ivory
trade; the controllers of the Seribas felt absolutely powerless before
the overwhelming fact that the Niam-niam had used firearms, and, under
the circumstances, they were entirely at a loss to know how to induce
their disheartened troops to re-enter the formidable country. The
soldiers openly declared that they had been hired to fight against
savages on the Upper Nile, and by savages, they meant people who
used lances and arrows; but to do battle with people who were armed
with genuine bullets was going beyond their contract, and this they
positively refused to do.

All the bearers who had escaped from the conflict with their lives,
hurried back in crowds to their settlements, and circulated in the
environs of the Seribas the most horrible accounts of the heartrending
massacre they had witnessed. As the demands of the expedition had
nearly emptied several of the Seribas of their fighting force, those
settlements that were on the Dinka frontiers were consequently for
the time considerably exposed to the danger of attack from their
neighbours. Accordingly, in the course of a few days, it happened that
we were solicited by the inhabitants of a neighbouring Seriba of the
deceased Aboo Guroon to send them an armed succour, as the Dinka around
them were assuming a most threatening attitude. Khalil complied with
their request by sending a small detachment of soldiers to co-operate
with the remnant of armed men who had been left in charge of the
garrison.

All these events combined to give my life in the Seriba much more
excitement than before, and my intercourse with strangers was far
from unfrequent. Many of the Gellahbas, mounted upon their donkeys or
Baggara oxen, passed through the place to do business in the purchase
of living ebony, and their rivals, the Turkish soldiers, ever and anon
paid us a visit whilst on their way to make their requisitions of corn
at the adjacent Seribas.

[Sidenote: A LION SHOT.]

On one occasion the surprising intelligence was brought us that a
lion had been shot on the sandy bed of the retreating Dyoor. In the
early morning the animal had gone to quench its thirst at the river,
and had been tracked down to the water’s edge by a troop of soldiers
who happened to be passing by; one of their number, though but an
indifferent marksman, had aimed from a short range, and had succeeded
in mortally wounding the lion by a shot in the head. The skin was
dressed and converted into a splendid saddle-cloth, whilst the head was
stuffed, and devoted to the mysterious purposes of magic.

One night a deafening uproar suddenly arose: it was followed by a
horrible yell, accompanied by what sounded like the wails, screeches,
and howls of a lot of terrified women. Every one started to his feet;
the soldiers seized their weapons; the captain of the Turkish guard,
who happened to be in the place with a party of bazibozuks, rushed out
with his troop, and increased the confusion by sending forth a whole
volley of the usual oaths and imprecations. It turned out, however,
that there was no demand either for his military services or for any of
his bombastic bluster. The simple cause of the tumultuous outcry was
the fall of an enormous tree near the Seriba. To save the trouble of
felling this monster of the woods it had been gradually undermined by
fire, and the negroes, in the course of one of their nightly orgies,
had been waiting for the moment of its downfall, and were now bellowing
and dancing like maniacs around the prostrate and still smoking mass.

On the 25th I made an excursion to the banks of the Dyoor, for the
purpose of hunting hippopotamuses, as well as of verifying the
condition of the river by taking measurements in two fresh places. Six
miles to the S.S.E. of the Seriba, I reached the left bank of the river
at a place where it was overgrown with tall reeds, and on our return
we crossed again four miles farther below. Between these two positions
was a deep basin, in which a number of hippopotamuses throughout the
year found sufficient water in which to perform their evolutions. A
couple of miles still lower down were situated the two crossing-places
of earlier date. Between the most northerly and the most southerly of
the four spots I have mentioned, the general direction of the Dyoor is
due north, varied by gentle windings to the N.N.E. and N.N.W. Beginning
at the most northerly, and taking them in order, I will now proceed
to give the result of my observations on the condition of the Dyoor
at each of the four places where I crossed it either by boat or by
swimming.

1. At the first spot the entire bed was 800 feet wide, but on the 28th
of April, 1869, the water only extended to the width of eighty feet,
being from one to four feet in depth, The edge of the bank stood from
twenty to twenty-five feet above the water.

2. At the next point of examination the measuring-line gave the width
of the bed from bank to bank as 302 feet. On the 8th of May, 1869,
the river was full, and three or four feet deep. On the 27th of
October, and on the 1st of November, 1870, the depth was from sixteen
to twenty feet, whilst the banks were already three or four feet
above the surface of the water. The velocity of the current on the
left and western shore was 105 feet per minute, whilst on the eastern
it was 137½ feet. It could be seen by the flood-marks that in the
height of the rainy season (_i.e._ in August and September) the entire
depression, extending from 1000 to 1200 paces on the left shore, and
only 100 paces broad on the right, was covered with water to a depth of
three or four feet.

[Sidenote: THE BED OF THE DYOOR.]

3. The bed of the river at the third place, where I submitted it to my
examination, was 328 feet wide, and on the 18th and 25th of December
was full. For a distance of sixty feet from the right-hand bank, the
depth of the water was little more than a foot, then for 100 feet in
the middle of the stream it was about two feet, and subsequently for
the remainder of the width as far as the left bank it increased to four
feet. On the western shore, where the river depression stretched out in
wide tracts, the current was far stronger than on the eastern, where
the wooded rocks extend close down to the edge of the water. Near this
place the condition of the depression of the river was exceptional,
being of an equal breadth of about 600 feet on either side of the
stream.

4. The bed of the stream at the last of my points of observation
was, according to the measuring-line, 492 feet wide. On the 25th
of December, 1870, it was only half full of water. Near the reedy
left-hand bank alone was the water of any considerable depth: at that
spot it was about four feet deep, but nowhere else was it more than
two feet. The current was strongest in the middle of the stream: it
is a peculiarity of the Dyoor that its current has always the same
velocity, and does not appear to be at all affected by the variations
in the height of the water.

I sat for hours upon the rocky slopes of the right bank of the river
watching the hippopotamuses as they plunged about in the water, and
occasionally firing at them as opportunities occurred for an aim; but a
light rifle was all that I had saved from the fire, and the small shot
that it carried did not have much effect upon the unwieldy beasts. The
range of my rifle was rarely more than 150 feet, and of the hundred
shots that I discharged very few did any serious damage, and only two
animals appeared to be mortally wounded. Early on the following morning
the natives of the surrounding districts found the body of one of the
creatures that I had killed by a bullet behind the ear lying amongst
the reeds in the river-bed, and they spent several hours in cutting up
the ponderous carcase.

The colour of nearly all these animals was a dark fleshy red, almost
like raw meat, marked irregularly with large black spots; I also
saw specimens of a lighter shade, but never of a pure white; in the
sunshine their damp bodies assumed quite a blueish-grey hue. Half of
the hippopotamuses that I noticed at this deep part of the river, which
extended for about a mile, were females carrying their young, which
at this season seemed very weak and undeveloped, and sat astride on
the short necks of their mothers. The females appeared to rise to the
surface of the water for the sake of their young far more frequently
than was necessary for their own accommodation, and unlike the males,
which usually show their mouth and nostrils, they only lifted their
young above the water, whilst their own heads generally remained
invisible. The animals seem to utter different sounds at different
seasons; they now snorted and grunted, or rather groaned, and the
sharp rattling gurgle was less distinct than in the spring. In the
sunlight the fine spray emitted from their nostrils gleamed like a ray
of light.

Now and then, with a frightful roar that resounded far away, the males
would leap violently from the water, displaying all the forepart of
their huge body; they seemed to be scuffling together, but whether they
were quarrelling for a monopoly of the limited space, or whether they
had been hit by some of my bullets, I could not determine. Their small
pointed ears were remarkably flexible, and were continually moving to
and fro as the animals listened to distant sounds or flapped away the
settling insects. All other characteristics of the hippopotamus are
so well known that it would be superfluous to introduce any further
description of them here.

[Sidenote: THE TENANTS OF THE DYOOR.]

To the same degree as its waters were enlivened by fish and
hippopotamuses, were the banks of the Dyoor animated by birds and many
varieties of animals. The forests were denizened by several species
of the monkey family, that during the winter months found there an
abundant harvest of ripened fruit. The grotesque form of the red-billed
Nashorr-bird rocked to and fro on the half-bare branches, and one
of the most splendid of African birds, the sky-blue Elminia, was
especially frequent. The bare sand-flats in the half dry river-bed were
the favourite resorts of the water-birds. The quaint-looking umbers
(_Scopus umbretta_), which are generally seen sitting solitary by the
shady swamps in the woods, were here marshalled along the banks in
flocks of twelve or fifteen; these birds, with their ponderous crested
heads pensively drooping in the noontide heat, seemed in their “sombre
weeds” rather to belong to the dreary wastes of the chilly north than
to the smiling grass-plains of the Upper Nile. Then there were the
great herons (_Mycteria senegalensis_) gravely strutting about, or
skimming the dark blue surface of the water on their silvery pinions.
The Khartoomers call this bird Aboo Mieh, or father of hundreds, in
commemoration of the munificence of a traveller who is said to have
given a hundred piastres (five dollars) for the first specimens of
this noble bird. In other places the sacred ibises had congregated
into groups, and with their bills turned towards the water, stood
or squatted motionless under the vertical beams of the midday sun.
The return of the dry and cool winter months regularly brings these
birds, like their compatriots the Khartoomers, into the more southerly
negro-countries. Ever and again the sharp cry of the osprey from some
invisible quarter would rouse the traveller from his reveries, as
though by its yelling laughter it were mocking at his meditations.
Storks, which are so prominent a feature in the Central Soudan, and are
so highly reverenced in Adamawa, did not appear in these regions, and
throughout my journey to the Niam-niam I never saw them.

We were hard at work on the following day in turning the huge carcase
of the hippopotamus to account for our domestic use. My people boiled
down great flasks of the fat which they took from the layers between
the ribs, but what the entire produce of grease would have been I
was unable to determine, as hundreds of natives had already cut off
and appropriated pieces of the flesh. When boiled, hippopotamus-fat
is very similar to pork-lard, though in the warm climate of Central
Africa it never attains a consistency firmer than that of oil. Of all
animal fats it appears to be the purest, and at any rate never becomes
rancid, and will keep for many years without requiring any special
process of clarifying; it has, however, a slight flavour of train-oil,
to which it is difficult for a European to become accustomed. It is
stated in some books that hippopotamus-bacon is quite a delicacy, but
I can by no means concur in the opinion; I always found it unfit for
eating, and when cut into narrow strips and roasted, it was as hard
and tough as so much rope; the same may be said of the tongue, which I
often had smoked and salted. The meat is remarkably fibrous, and is one
continuous tissue of sinews.

[Sidenote: KURBATCHES.]

Several hundred Nile-whips or kurbatches can be made from the hide
of a single animal, and afterwards, in Egypt, my servants made a
profitable little market by selling the whips, for which they found
a ready demand. By a proper application of oil, heat, and friction,
they may be made as flexible as gutta percha. The fresh skin is easily
cut crosswise into long quadrilateral strips, and when half dry, the
edges are trimmed with a knife, and the strips are hammered into the
round whips as though they were iron beaten on an anvil. The length of
these much dreaded “knouts” of the south is represented by half the
circumference of the body of the hippopotamus, the stump end of the
whip, which is about as thick as one’s finger, corresponding to the
skin on the back, whilst the point is the skin of the belly.

By a remarkable accident one of my most important manuscripts, happily
for me, escaped the conflagration in Ghattas’s Seriba. The explosion
of a chest of ammunition had sent the book flying high into the air,
where it had been caught by a current of wind caused by the glow, and,
being carried for some distance, fell to the ground in a wood outside
the Seriba; after the lapse of many days it was picked up by some
natives and brought to me with no other damage than that the edges
of the leaves had been slightly singed. The manuscript contained a
copious vocabulary of the Bongo dialect and a collection of carefully
translated phrases and sentences. I could not fail to accept this
recovered treasure as an incitement to the further prosecution of my
linguistic studies, and I set to work at once to replace my Dyoor
and Niam-niam vocabularies. The idioms of the far south and east,
which I had so laboriously committed to writing, the dialects of the
Mittoo tribes, of the Behl, of the Babuckur, and the Monbuttoo, were
unfortunately irrecoverably lost, for during my subsequent residence in
the Seribas I could never meet with competent interpreters.

My old friend Khalil commanded greater respect from his subordinates,
and maintained more order and discipline in his Seriba, than any other
controller belonging to a Khartoom mercantile firm with whom I ever
became acquainted. With him, the settler who had been longest in the
country, I spent many a pleasant hour, and from his confidential gossip
I gained many a hint that enabled me to form an accurate judgment upon
the state of affairs. He complained very much about the undisciplined
troops of his countrymen that were sent to him from Khartoom; he
emphatically denounced the slave trade, and although he could not
enter much into the humanity of the attempts for its suppression, yet
he was fully alive to the disadvantages that it exercised upon the
internal administration of the Seribas. He was extremely anxious that
the natives under his jurisdiction should suffer no diminution in their
numbers, and would often dispute with the itinerant slave-dealers their
right to carry off property that they had obtained from his territory;
he even endeavoured to exercise control over his subordinates in the
subsidiary Seribas, although they generally contrived to elude his
watchfulness. Whenever it happened that any orphan Dyoor or Bongo
children had been sold to the Gellahbas, he would use all sorts of
remonstrances and would spare no argument to induce the traders to
surrender their booty.

“This boy,” he would say, “you can’t have him: in the course of three
or four years he will be old enough to be a bearer, and will be able to
carry his 70 lbs. of ivory to the Meshera; and this girl, you mustn’t
take her: she will soon be of an age to be married and have children.
Where do you suppose I am to get my bearers in future, if you run off
with all the boys? and where do you expect that I shall find wives for
my Bongo and Dyoor, if you carry all the girls out of the country?”

[Sidenote: NUBIAN CHARACTER.]

However reserved might be my behaviour towards the Nubians, yet my long
period of daily intercourse with them gave me a tolerably deep insight
into their character. It may perhaps appear incomprehensible how, with
any equanimity, I could have endured for two years and a half the
exclusive society of what was, for the most part, a mere rough rabble;
but it must be remembered that the social position that I was able to
maintain amongst them was very different to what it would have been
amongst a party of rude and unpolished Europeans, and their religious
fanaticism, as well as the entire difference of their habits, raised
a strong barrier of defence against any sort of intimacy. Amongst the
thousands of Nubian colonists with whom I was thrown in contact, I
never met with a single individual who offered me any insult either in
word or deed; I never had occasion to enter into anything like domestic
relations with them, and never did otherwise than eat and sleep
perfectly alone and in the seclusion of my own hut. But in spite of all
my reserve I was a constant witness of the scenes in their daily life,
and I believe that very few of their habits escaped my notice; it may
not, therefore, be altogether uninteresting to insert here some results
of my observations upon the character of my old travelling companions.

Throughout this account of my wanderings I have, for the sake of
simplicity, always used the term “Nubians” to denote the present
inhabitants of the Nile Valley, in contradistinction to the Egyptians
and true Arabs (Syro-Arabians) on the one hand, and to the Ethiopian
Bedouins and the Negroes on the other. I do not for a moment deny
that the present Nubians (meaning by this term only the people who
dwell on the banks of the river) must have sprung from various races.
Independently of the three dialects of the Nubian language, which are
those of Dongola, of Kenoos, and of Mahass (in which it is supposed
that the still undeciphered ancient Ethiopian inscriptions are
written), and independently of Arabic being the actual mother-language
of the natives, who have, in fact, immigrated from Asia, and some of
whom, as for instance the Sheigieh, have hitherto remained ignorant
of the Nubian language altogether; they are yet all so united by one
common bond alike of general habits and physical character, that
they no longer exhibit any perceptible distinctions. It must also be
remembered that these Nubian natives of the Nile district have for
centuries not only intermarried with each other, but have also mixed
so indiscriminately with slaves of every origin, that they have lost
all traces of being other than a single race. Accordingly the use of
the term “Nubian,” under the restriction named, may be justified in
more than one respect, and may be fairly employed in geographical,
ethnographical, or historical relations.

Whoever has become acquainted with the passive natives of Berber or
Dongola[61] in Egypt only, or more especially in Alexandria, where
they are trusted with the charge of house and home, and whoever has
witnessed the patience with which they endure the antipathy of the
residents, will be at a loss how to reconcile his own impression
with the unfavourable one given by a traveller so faithful as
Burckhardt,[62] who knew them before they were subjected to Egyptian
domination, and has left on record his version of their national
character.

As far as my own experience went, with regard to morality, I decidedly
preferred the people of Berber to the Egyptians, and I believed that
the change for the better that had taken place since Burckhardt’s
visit to Berber and Shendy in 1822, had been owing to the more rigid
government of the Turks on the one hand, and to the increasing
physical luxury of the people of Berber on the other; for in their own
homes I never found them to be otherwise than quiet and harmless.

[Sidenote: VIRTUES AND VICES.]

My impressions, however, were at that time very imperfect; but
when I saw the people on the territory of the Bahr-el-Ghazal,
that pasture-land for their hungry spirits, where they are beyond
the jurisdiction of the Government and are no longer in dread of
bastinadoes, extortions, taxation, or summonses to the divans of
the satraps, and where there are no Egyptians to mock them with the
insulting cry of “Barabra,”—then I discovered the true side of their
nature, and all their leading traits came fully to light. Their
character, a curious mixture of exemplary virtues and most repulsive
vices, was not like a mechanical medley of antagonistic qualities,
but was a composition in which each single quality seemed to partake
of mingled good and evil, though unfortunately the evil decidedly
preponderated.

If an Alexandrian merchant were asked for a character of his Nubian
servant or baob, he would probably give it something in the following
way: “My servant is a man whom I would confidently trust with untold
gold, and yet there is no one to whom he is more indifferent than to
myself. I am convinced that if I were in danger he would not stir a
finger to save me.” And this judgment would indeed be perfectly fair;
the faithfulness of the Nubians is merely inspired by their cowardice,
otherwise it would not be limited to money or things of a similar
nature. Pilfering is not one of their failings, and is unheard of even
in their lawless proceedings in the wilderness of the Upper Nile. As
long as I lived amongst them they never robbed me of the smallest
article of my property, and in this respect their behaviour offered
a very favourable contrast to what I experienced from the Egyptians,
whose thievish propensities have already been placed by Burckhardt
in unfavourable contrast to the honesty of the Nubians. It is not,
however, a genuine sense of right that makes the Nubians honest, but
rather the want of courage that pervades all their dealings: courage,
whether for good or for evil, physical or moral, is entirely wanting
amongst them. Their agreement one with another, and the promptitude
with which every one feels bound to check a rising quarrel, whether it
concern himself or not, arises from this same defect. Their indomitable
striving for freedom is only the utterance of a spirit that rebels
against order of any kind, and refuses, even to be compelled to
cleanliness; but at the same time it cannot be denied that sparks of a
nobler nature can be traced in this part of their character, and they
show a degree of patriotism, a feeling of nationality, and a resistance
to usurped authority, all of which are sentiments quite unknown to the
Egyptians.

Untruthfulness has become to them a second nature, and most of them
will tell lies by habit, even when it is not of the smallest advantage
to conceal the truth.

They display a far greater amount of religious fanaticism in the
Seribas than in their own homes, as may be seen in their behaviour
towards the heathen negroes, and I should fill a long chapter if I were
to attempt to illustrate my account by the various examples of this of
which I was myself a witness. To their ineradicable belief in witches
and in the periodic migration of souls into the bodies of hyænas, I
have already made several allusions. But the most monstrous of all
their practices was that of liver-eating, of which some of the soldiers
(though I must confess they were only exceptions) were shamelessly
guilty during their encounters with the heathen. In Nubia dogs are
trained for the chase in rather a remarkable manner: for a long time
they are deprived of all animal food, but the first time afterwards
that an antelope is killed they are fed with its still reeking liver;
by this means the dog is accustomed to the scent, and becomes so wild
and bloodthirsty, that it is always eager to track and hunt down its
prey. It is probably this custom that has caused the liver-eating
people to imagine that by a similar method they may make themselves
invincible in battle; perhaps they entertain the belief, that after
partaking of such food, a portion of the power and courage of their
fallen foe may pass into the vanquisher.

[Sidenote: PREJUDICES.]

Other notions, very similar in character, appear to be widely diffused
throughout the Mohammedan world. In their bigoted prejudices the
Mohammedans imagine that the Christians are just as fanatical as
themselves; the pitch to which their imagination will carry them
about the actions of which they believe Christians to be guilty may
be illustrated by the following anecdote: A friend of mine, who held
the post of Government physician in a town on the Red Sea, proposed
one day, in order to gain a more accurate knowledge of a disorder that
was raging in the place, to dissect the body of a pilgrim, a stranger
without kith or kin, who had died in the hospital. The doctor had long
been on the look-out for an opportunity of this kind, but up to this
time had never had a body which he could consider as being at his own
disposal; now he thought he had a chance of making his investigations
in peace and quietness. But his project was quickly to be frustrated.
The hospital servants, perceiving his preparations, rushed horrified
to the Governor; the news spread like wild-fire through the little
town; the principal inhabitants met and consulted, and authorised a
deputation to wait upon the Governor, who, at their instance, commanded
the physician, under penalty of forfeiting his post, to desist from
the operation. The offender also received a severe reprimand from the
sanitary authorities, who expressed their indignation that he should
have been guilty of such an outrage upon the customs of the land. The
citizens were at length pacified, but for long afterwards the revolting
report was current amongst them that the doctor, being a Christian,
had been about to take the opportunity of eating the heart of a
Mussulman and of drinking his blood!

Khalil told me that in his own home it was the general belief, in
which, although he now knew better, he had himself been a firm
believer, that when a Mussulman enters the land of the Franks he is at
once caught and put into a cage, where he is carefully fattened; as
soon as he is nice and plump, he is placed upon a gridiron over a fire
that has been lighted in a pit below; the fat is collected as it drops
from his body, and from this fat of the faithful it is believed that
the Franks prepare their most subtle poisons.

Whenever a horse or a donkey gets in any way sickly it is compelled
to swallow pieces of pork; this is considered as an infallible
cure throughout the whole of Nubia, and in some of the heathen
negro-countries, where tame pigs are unknown, the flesh of the wild hog
(_Phacochærus_) is used as a substitute. The practice in Zanzibar and
in other places subject to the Arabian semi-culture of introducing pigs
into the stalls with the horses for the purpose of attracting the devil
from them into the swine, is unknown to the Nubians, but probably only
for the reason that stalls do not exist in the Soudan.

Amulets[63] are not only worn by dozens round the arms of the
“believers,” but are affixed to the doors of the houses as a protection
from fire, and, what may sound still more remarkable, they are hung
upon the necks of horses and donkeys. The writing of amulets is one of
the most remunerative occupations of the Fakis or scribes, and they are
in far greater requisition in Nubia than in Egypt.

[Sidenote: SILVER BULLETS.]

The Fakis of Darfoor are held in the greatest reverence, and they are
credited with the power of securing a certain protection from bullets.
They are presumed, by means of spells, to be able to make the lead to
dissolve into vapour, and to work enchantments so that the discharge
becomes innocuous. There has hence arisen in the Egyptian Soudan such
an exaggerated notion of the superiority of the weapons of Darfoor,
that none other than white Turkish troops are considered suitable for a
campaign against this stronghold of Mohammedan fanaticism. The Turks,
themselves bigoted enough, naturally laugh at all their superstition,
and an anecdote related to me by the Governor of Fashoda will serve
to illustrate the extravagance of these delusions of the Nubians. He
told me that Seebehr Rahama, the great Seriba owner, whose territory
joins the southern frontiers of Darfoor, had boasted to him that he
possessed a means of foiling the black art of the Foorian Fakis; he
had had 25,000 dollars melted down into bullets in Khartoom, and as
the amulets of the Fakis did not apply to silver, he declared these
new-fashioned shot to be most effectual. This story, as I have said,
had been received by the Governor from Seebehr’s own lips, and as I
heard it confirmed in various quarters, I have no reason to doubt its
truth, especially as Seebehr’s wealth and enterprising character were
as well-known to me as his blind superstition. If then the Viceroy
should open a war with Darfoor (and there are few who, interested
in the progress of enlightenment, would not rejoice to hear of such
a movement) he must first, before venturing to attack this African
Bokhara, lay in a store of the precious metal, in order to make the
weapons of his troops at all effective against their foes. A costly war
this would be in truth.

Throughout the Mohammedan Soudan there is a widespread belief in the
unfailing efficacy of water which has been subject to the charm of
imbibing the virtue of leaves of paper inscribed with texts from the
Koran; to the Nubians this infusion is the best of medicine.

According to their notions, all diseases may be divided into two
classes; those that are caused by “haboob” (wind), and those that are
caused by “damm” (blood). For purifying and cooling the blood their
specific remedies are infusions of pepper, cloves, and other spices.
Not a day, and hardly an hour, passed during my residence in the
Seribas without my being a witness to some action prompted by one or
other of their ingrained superstitions. The “evil eye,” which it is
well known is dreaded by all the people on the Mediterranean, plays a
prominent part amongst them. No one is ever seen to eat alone, or even
known to eat in private, and no food is ever carried across the road
without being carefully covered. The invitation “bes-millah,” which is
heard amongst the people as they sit at table, is by no means uttered
because there is a lack of envy and selfishness. Before the tongue of
any animal is eaten, the tip has to be cut off, for here, they say,
is the seat of all curses and evil wishes, and even the tongues of
sheep and oxen are not served up until they have been subject to this
treatment.

It is well known that most dogs have a few white hairs at the extreme
tip of the tail; this tip, they declare, must be removed, otherwise
the animal will not thrive. Altogether their fancies about dogs are
most absurd; they adhere to the belief that to inhale their breath
would be followed by grievous consequences, and that the worst
internal disorders, such as consumption and dropsy, would infallibly
ensue. Every Nubian dreads hearing a dog howl, and I was not a little
surprised at finding in this remote land a superstition that is common
in many parts of Europe, and which I remember having met with in
Hungary. The superstition to which I refer is, that whenever a dog
howls (and that is not seldom, for it will do so on hearing a donkey
bray) it betokens the approaching death of its master.

[Sidenote: MORE PREJUDICES.]

One of their practices is as disgusting as it is strange. They suppose
it will give them strength to apply the sweat of their horses to their
own bodies. After a ride they scrape off the sweat from their horse’s
back with their hand, and rub it about their persons, just in the
same way as if they were using one of their ordinary greasy ointments.
All Mohammedans have peculiar ideas about what is clean and unclean.
A horse is not an unclean animal, and therefore its sweat cannot be
supposed to defile a man. By the same rule, nothing impure can proceed
from a man, because man is not an unclean animal. This theory of
theirs is exemplified when a group of travellers is seen squatting
on the ground preparing their cooling drinks; with their dirty hands
they will squeeze the tamarinds into the water, and their draught is
ready; that a couple of sticks would be in any way a more wholesome or
seemly device appears never to have entered their thoughts. In order
to express his disgust at anything dirty or impure, the traveller
must either invent some phraseology of his own, or must signify his
disapprobation in the words: “Take that away: it is niggis” (_i.e_.
unclean in a religious sense): the Arabic terms for dirt being quite
inadequate to convey the right idea.

I should not omit to mention that there are certain prejudices about
the fabrication of European products that are shared by all the
inhabitants of the Soudan. They believe that gum-arabic is in such
demand in Europe only because the Franks use it for making their
glass-ware, and especially their beads. Cigars, they say, are rolled
up from tobacco that has been soaked in spirits to give it pungency;
consequently no true believer can be induced to put one to his lips.
All preserves are supposed to contain pork, or at any rate to be mixed
with pigs’ fat; otherwise, why should they be introduced into the
country? Cheese, a product that is utterly unknown amongst the pastoral
tribes of Africa, from the people of Morocco to the Bishareen on the
Red Sea, and from the Dinka to the Kaffirs, is imagined to be composed
of pigs’ milk, a fact which accounts for the predilection of the
Europeans for it.

I could go on reciting a hundred of the absurd prejudices and
misconceptions of the Nubians, but having given examples of their
failings, I will now say a few words in commendation and recognition of
the better qualities of my old friends. There are certain peculiarities
of their character that may be described as actual virtues. The Nubian
is far less cringing and servile to his superiors than the Egyptian:
the title “Seedy” (my lord), which is continually heard in ordinary
conversation amongst the Egyptians, is never heard from his lips. One
day I asked my servants why they persisted in addressing me by the
meagre and pointless term “Musyoo,” when their language provided them
with a courteous word like “Seedy,” which is always used in Egypt. They
at once replied that “Seedy” meant lord, and that they acknowledged no
lord but the one All-powerful Allah.

I have already mentioned the romantic tone of conversation used by all
Nubians, high and low, even on the most trifling subjects, and how, in
this respect, they form a striking contrast to the Egyptians, who are
ever harping on money and business.

Another very laudable trait in the character of the Nubians is their
moderation in eating; they eat little, but quickly; their meals seem to
occupy them but a few moments, and it is remarkable with what enjoyment
they will gulp down their frugal repast of tough kissere. They are not
at all dainty, and do not seem to covet tit-bits of any description;
they never helped themselves to any of my delicacies, though amongst
the Egyptians and the true negroes, I was always obliged to keep my
sugar-basin in a place of security. Their outbreaks of intemperance
over their abominable merissa stand out in strong and sad contrast to
their otherwise perfect moderation.

Amongst their physical qualities I may especially remark their powers
of marching; they are the best walkers that I know, and seem formed
for tramping along the wildernesses of Africa. Turks and Egyptians
are rarely seen in the Seribas of the Upper Nile district, and mainly
for the reason that in marching they are unable to keep pace with the
Nubians.

Although they are more lively and excitable than the Turks and
Egyptians, the Nubians exhibit a more decided idleness and dislike to
work than either of them; hence proceeds that utter want of order and
regularity in their households which is so conspicuous everywhere,
and to overcome which would require more energy than they are ever
likely to display. It is true that they are free from some of the
more revolting vices of the Turks, such for instance as opium-eating,
but they indulge in the same lascivious excesses, and have the same
hankering after stimulants when their physical powers flag or fail to
answer to those demands of an insatiable imagination, which have become
a second nature in the degenerate nations of the East.

[Sidenote: EXCURSION TO EGYPTIAN CAMP.]

My condition was somewhat ameliorated, but I was still in want of many
common necessaries. Hitherto I had been quite unable to find anything
that could compensate for the boots and shoes I had lost. In the hope,
therefore, of obtaining some of the things I so much required from
amongst the effects of the deceased Turkish Sandjak, I resolved to make
an excursion to the Egyptian camp. A series of settlements belonging to
various Khartoomers would be passed along the route, and by stopping at
these I might not only break my journey, but might get an opportunity
in addition of gaining information about that portion of the frontier
of the Upper Nile territory.

The camp of the Government was situated close to the chief settlement
of the most powerful of all the Khartoom Seriba owners, Seebehr Rahama,
who himself resided there. His territory included the western portion
of the district occupied by the Khartoomers, and was immediately
adjacent to the most southerly outposts of the Sultan of Darfoor.
A few days before I started on this little journey to the west, a
circumstance had occurred that had thrown all the inhabitants of this
Seriba into a great commotion, and which did not augur altogether well
for my projected tour. A conflict had broken out between the black
Government troops and Seebehr’s Nubian soldiers, and twenty Nubians
as well as many of the negroes had lost their lives in the fray. The
Turkish bazibozuks, instead of remaining neutral, had joined in the
affair and taken part against the blacks. The reason of this coalition
between the Egyptian Turks and the Nubian settlers was, that the
Turkish commander had given orders that their common enemy, Hellali,
should be seized and imprisoned. This Hellali, it will be remembered,
was the man who had been appointed to the special command of the black
troops of the Government, and who had represented himself as the owner
of the copper-mines in the south of Darfoor, stating that they had to
pay him 4000 dollars annually. He was really the cause of the present
quarrel, and the events that led to his imprisonment will not take long
to describe.

Hellali had drawn upon himself the odium of all the Khartoomers,
because, by alleging himself to be the owner of the land in the south
of Darfoor, he threw doubt upon their legal right to the soil on
which they had founded their Seribas; he was consequently summoned to
Khartoom to give an account of his conduct. All the representations by
which he had induced the Viceroy to undertake the expedition to the
Gazelle had turned out to be nothing but the fraudulent devices of a
swindler; Hellali had never possessed land in this district at all,
and much less had received any grant of territory from the Sultan of
Darfoor. For months it had been rumoured that he intended to retire
with his black troops to that part of the country, and in spite of his
appeal to the seal and signature of his Highness, by virtue of which he
claimed possession of the lands, the suspicion against him increased
to such an extent that the Turkish commander appeared to be justified
in proceeding to violent measures against the alleged favourite of the
Viceroy. The conflict that now arose determined the matter; Hellali had
been the mainspring of the quarrel with Seebehr’s people, and thus, as
I have said, his capture brought about a reconciliation between the
Turks and the Nubians.

[Sidenote: HELLALI.]

The immediate cause of the disagreement may now be related. Hellali
had ordered his soldiers to make requisitions of corn upon the natives
under Seebehr’s jurisdiction, who had hitherto been accustomed to
furnish contributions to none but their own master. The strange troops
were proceeding by violence to appropriate to themselves the contents
of the granaries, when the Nubian soldiers, with Seebehr himself at
their head, sallied out from the Seriba, and attempted to drive off the
intruders. Hellali’s people immediately opened fire upon the Nubians,
and the very first shot wounded Seebehr in the ankle. This was the
signal for a general battle, and many lives were lost on either side.
For the first few days the Egyptian camp, so near the Seriba as it was,
was in imminent danger, and could with difficulty hold its own against
the ever-increasing numbers of antagonists, for of course all the
neighbours hastened to the assistance of Seebehr, whose fighting force
already amounted to more than a thousand. In this dilemma the Turkish
commander was obliged to resort to the diplomatic measure to which I
have referred, so as to avert the serious consequences that threatened
himself and his troops.

FOOTNOTES:

[58] The Turkish name is properly pronounced Kutshook
Aly, but I give the words as I believe they are more
generally written.

[59] The negro races of Central Africa also, without any
notion of hours as a division of time, are able to
indicate the time of day by the same method, which
for the equinoctial regions may be considered quite
practical.

[60] _Vide_ Chapter V.

[61] The Egyptians call them simply “Barãbra.”

[62] ‘Travels in Nubia,’ by the late John Lewis Burckhardt.
London, 1822.

[63] Burckhardt gives copies of two of these amulets in his
‘Travels,’ pp. 210 and 211.

CHAPTER XXI.

Fresh wanderings, Dyoor remedy for wounds. Crocodiles in the
Ghetty. Former residence of Miss Tinné. Dirt and disorder. The
Baggara-Rizegat. An enraged fanatic. The Pongo. Frontiers of the
Bongo and Golo. A buffalo-calf shot. Idrees Wod Defter’s Seriba.
Golo dialect. Corn magazines of the Golo. The Kooroo. The goats’
brook. Increasing level of land. Seebehr’s Seriba Dehm Nduggoo.
Discontent of the Turks. Visit to an invalid. Ibrahim Effendi.
Establishment of the Dehms. Nubians rivals to the slave-dealers.
Population of Dar Ferteet. The Kredy. Overland route to
Kordofan. Shekka. Copper mines of Darfoor. Raw copper.

The third New Year’s Day that I passed on African soil now dawned,
and it was precisely on the 1st of January, 1871, that I found myself
starting off upon my long-projected tour to the west. I left my little
Tikkitikki to the temporary guardianship of Khalil, and set out
accompanied by two of my servants, the negro lads, and the few bearers
that were necessary to carry the little remnant of my property.

My scheme was first of all to pay a visit to Bizelly’s Seriba,
thirty-two miles to the north-west, the same that had been Miss Tinné’s
headquarters seven years previously; and as the controller happened to
be passing through Kurshook Ali’s Seriba on his return from a business
tour, I was glad to avail myself of the chance of travelling in company
with one who was well acquainted with the country. The name of this
man was Bakhit Yussuf; he was a negro by birth, and had formerly been
in the service of Kleincznick, a Hungarian, who at the time of Miss
Tinné’s expedition had owned a Seriba in the Kozanga mountains, and who
by the shameless way in which he had prosecuted the slave-trade, had
fallen under the censure of the Khartoom authorities.

We crossed the Wow at the same wooded spot as we had done in April
1869. This river, the Nyenahm of the Dyoor, the Herey of the Bongo,
during the rainy season has a depth of fourteen to sixteen feet
without ever overflowing its banks; even at this date the bed of the
noble forest-stream was still quite covered with water, the depth of
which near the banks was three or four feet, decreasing in the middle
of the current to less than two feet. The varying depth, however,
did not affect the velocity, which was uniform throughout and about
ninety-eight feet a minute. The width of the Wow I found by careful
measurement to be 132 feet.

[Sidenote: AN UNCOURTEOUS VOKEEL.]

Beyond the river we passed through cultivated lands, leaving Agahd’s
chief Seriba on our left; we then crossed a low range of hills
stretching towards the north-east, and brought our day’s march to an
end in the hamlet of a Dyoor chief named Dimmoh, where we encamped for
the night. I had purposely avoided entering the Seriba Wow, although
it was quite within reach, my reason being that I had recently been
aggrieved by the behaviour of the acting Vokeel, one of the few men of
Turkish origin who had settled in the land. A short time previously
I had despatched a document of considerable importance to myself,
containing a narrative of my late misfortunes, directing it to the
commander of the Egyptian camp, so that through him it might be put
on the right track for Europe, _viâ_ Kordofan; but although the
controllers of all the other Seribas had readily passed on my despatch
from place to place by means of special messengers, this Turkish Vokeel
had sent it back to me with the paltry excuse that he had received
no instructions from myself personally as to where he should forward
it. I was thus compelled to be the bearer of my own papers as far as
the Egyptian camp in Seebehr’s Seriba, whence I hoped to be able to
send them on by one of the slave caravans that made the place their
starting-point.

Our night-camp afforded me an opportunity of renewing my familiarity
with the idyllic village life of the Dyoor. The sorghum harvest had
long been gathered in, and the dokhn had been safely stored in the
great urn-like bins that were so essential a fixture in every hut; a
second crop was now in course of being housed, consisting of the kindy
(_Hyptis_) that springs up between the stubble, many of the women
being engaged in the task, which is very tedious, of cleansing the
poppy-like seeds. About the fields were lying many of those strange
cylinder-shaped melons, which appear to be peculiar to the Dyoor,
with their rind like that of the bottle-gourd and as hard as wood.
There were also large numbers of the fleshy variegated calyces of the
Sabdariffa dried all ready for storing, a condition in which they
retain their pungency, and serve the purpose of giving the soups of the
natives an acid flavour almost as sharp as vinegar.

Several of the old men and women that I saw looked very decrepit; a
circumstance which I mention, because amongst the Bongo, slaves to
heathen superstition as they are, I never noticed a single individual
whose hair was grey.

I was a witness here of what struck me as a very singular method of
treating wounds. A boy’s knee had been grazed, and I saw a woman apply
some of the acrid juice of the _Modecca abyssinica_. Forskal, who
discovered the plant in Arabia, where it goes by the name of “Aden,”
says that pulverized and taken internally it causes a swelling of
the limbs that does not fail to terminate fatally. The Dyoor woman
scraped the rind off a piece of the stem, and having expressed the
juice from the soft pulp spread it upon a damp leaf; this was laid as a
plaster upon the wound and covered with another leaf. I could not help
regretting that time did not allow me to ascertain the efficiency of
the operation.

The nights were calm and beautifully starlight, so that our rest in the
open air was very enjoyable, and we started off each morning before
sunrise with our energies thoroughly requickened.

[Sidenote: THE HAMLETS OF WOLL.]

After going awhile uphill over some rocky ground we came to a declivity
of nearly a hundred feet; at the bottom of this we had to cross a wide
swampy depression covered with the Terminalia forests that so often
characterise such localities. The holes and hollows, although they
were now completely dry, gave ample testimony as to what must be the
number of the pools that would obstruct the path during the height of
the rainy season. In a short time we reached the hamlets of a Dyoor
chief named Woll, that were scattered about an open plain covered with
cultivated fields; this was the frontier of Bizelly’s territory. A
tree something like an acacia, the _Entada sudanica_, remarkable for
its pods, a foot long and thin as paper, and breaking into numbers of
pieces when ripe, was the chief feature in the bush-forests of the
environs, although it is a tree which is generally rare in the country.

The bearers with whom Khalil had supplied me were here dismissed, their
place being taken by others who had come up at the orders of Bakhit
Yussuf. Woll’s people were very busy collecting their iron-ore and
putting their smelting-furnaces into readiness for use. In the vicinity
of the village there was an iron-mine similar to that near Kurshook
Ali’s Seriba.

Over rocky soil and through tracts of dense bushwood we marched on,
until in front of us we saw a kind of valley-plateau, bare of trees,
apparently shut in on the farther side by an eminence extending towards
the north-east, which is the general direction of the territory of the
Dyoor in this district. Here we entered a little Seriba of Bizelly’s,
known by the name of Kurnuk,[64] where we were well entertained during
the midday hours.

In the afternoon we set off again, and mounted the wooded height
covered with great tracts of the Göll tree (_Prosopis_), which is
noticeable for producing a fruit very like the St. John’s bread. Then
again descending, we came to the dried-up bed of a watercourse that
was closely overhung with bushes. Beyond this were various cultivated
plots, dotted here and there with huts; and we next entered a splendid
forest of lofty Humboldtiæ, which by its extent and denseness reminded
me of our own European woods. Our path was shaded by these noble trees
until we reached the Ghetty, or “Little Wow,” six miles above the spot
where Dr. Steudner lies buried on its bank.

This tributary of the Dyoor was about as large as the Molmul near Aboo
Guroon’s Seriba; its bed was between fifty and sixty feet wide; its
banks were ten feet high. At present it was little more than a narrow
ditch, with no perceptible motion in its waters, but I was told that
lower down it widened out into pools that were always full of water.
But insignificant as the Ghetty looked, it was large enough to be the
resort of crocodiles so daring and voracious that they were the terror
of the neighbourhood, the rapacity of the creatures very probably
arising from a prevalent scarcity of fish. A few weeks previously, when
the stream was full to the top of its banks, a Dyoor boy as he was
swimming across had been snapped at by one of these ravenous Saurians
and had never been seen again. It is surprising in the dry season, into
what tiny pools and puddles the crocodile will make its way, and where,
buried in the miry clay, it will find a sufficiently commodious home.
In comparison with these pools the tanks with which the specimens in
the aquariums of our zoological gardens are provided must be fully if
not superfluously spacious. When kept in confinement the crocodile
makes scarcely any perceptible growth; and from this circumstance of
the slow increase of its bulk the inference seems necessarily to follow
that the creature lives to a great age.

The Ghetty is bordered by bushes nearly identical with those which are
found on the banks of all the streamlets of this land; the _Morelia
senegalensis_, the _Zizygium_, and the _Trichilia retusa_ may be noted
as amongst the most common.

I was told that Bizelly’s head Seriba, known amongst the Bongo as
Doggaya Onduppo, was situated upon the right bank, about eight leagues
to the north-west of the spot where we crossed the stream, which here
forms the boundary between the Wow tribe of the Dyoor and the district
populated by the Bongo. We continued to advance for another league and
a half, going up a densely-wooded acclivity until at length, fairly
tired out with our exertions, we entered, quite late in the evening,
Bizelly’s subsidiary Seriba, called by the Bongo Doggaya-morr.

[Sidenote: PREDECESSORS ON THE SOIL.]

Here, for the first time, I found myself on what my scientific
predecessors had made what to my mind was nothing less than a classic
soil. Here it was that Theodor von Heuglin had resided from the 17th
of April, 1863, to the 4th of January, 1864; here, or at least in
an adjacent village of the Wow tribe, had Dr. Steudner[65] expired;
and close in the vicinity had Miss Tinné passed through a period of
wretchedness which all her wealth was powerless to prevent. Never could
I leave the Seriba without being conscious that every shrub and every
plant was a memorial of those who had been before me, for all were
representatives of that hitherto unknown flora of which Heuglin had
collected the first botanical data, and which Dr. Kotschy has depicted
in his noble work ‘Plantæ Tinnianæ,’ partly from the drawings of Miss
Tinné herself.

Within the Seriba, too, I was constantly reminded of the miserable
condition to which this expedition, so comprehensive in its original
design, had been reduced. The region bore every token of having
an unhealthy climate. The stagnant meadow-waters and foul streams
all around had all the appearance of being veritable and prolific
breeding-places for fever and malaria. A great ruined tenement, now a
mere lodgment for sheep and goats, marked the spot where the remains
of Miss Tinné’s mother, who fell a victim to the pernicious climate,
were temporarily deposited until the opportunity came for them to be
removed to her distant home. A dejected fate indeed, and a miserable
resting-place for one who had been reared amidst the comforts and
luxuries of the highest refinement.

Before leaving Bizelly’s Seriba we received intelligence of the murder
of our old friend Shol, the wealthy Dinka princess, into the details
of whose personal charms and associations I have, in an earlier page,
entered with some minuteness. The natives, it seems, had accused her of
inviting the “Turks” into the country; and as many of the tribes in the
neighbourhood had been exposed to attacks from Kurshook Ali’s troops,
they determined to avenge themselves on Shol, as being a long-standing
ally of the Khartoomers. Knowing that she slept alone in her hut, a
troop of men belonging to the Wady (a tribe settled to the east of the
Meshera) set out by night, and under pretext of having business with
Kurdyook, her husband, knocked at her door. She had no sooner appeared
in answer to their summons than they attacked her with deadly blows;
and setting fire to all the huts drove off nearly all the cattle that
was to be found in the place. This melancholy piece of news, coupled
with the recent defeat of the Khartoomers by the Niam-niam, foreboded
ill for the future prospects of the Seribas; by Shol’s death the
vicinity of the Meshera would lose all its peaceful character, and
there was no longer the possibility of solitary boats being left there
in security during the season of the rains.

[Sidenote: LONGO.]

A lovely march of about six miles to the north-west, through an almost
unbroken and in many places very dense bush-forest, brought us to Ali
Amoory’s[66] chief Seriba, distinguished by the natives by the name of
Longo. The Parkia trees were just beginning to bloom. The wonderful
spectacle that these presented was quite unique; their great trusses
of bright red blossoms, large as the fist and smooth as velvet, made a
display that was truly gorgeous, as they depended from the long stalks
which broke forth from the feathery foliage of the spreading crowns.

Another characteristic of the scenery was the _Boxia salicifolia_, that
appeared in great abundance.

In spite of the constant traffic between the different Seribas there
seemed to be no lack of game; traces of hartebeests were everywhere
visible, whilst the little madoqua antelopes bounded like apparitions
from bush to bush. Guinea-fowls were just as prolific as in the
wildest deserts of the Niam-niam. Heuglin, no inexperienced sportsman,
had certainly here chosen a remunerative ground for his zoological
researches.

Our path was crossed by three watercourses, which were now for the most
part dry. By their confluence these three streams formed an important
tributary of the Dyoor, called the Okuloh, their separate names before
their junction, reckoning from the southernmost, being respectively
the Dangyah, the Matshoo, and the Minnikinyee or “fish-water;” their
uniformly north-eastern direction attested the material fall in the
level of the ground at the boundary between the rocky soil and the
alluvial plains of the Dyoor.

Longo ranked as a first-class establishment. It contained a larger
number of huts than even Ghattas’s Seriba, which it surpassed also
in dirt and disorder. Every hedge was crooked, every hut stood awry,
and the farmsteads were as ruined as though they had for years been
abandoned to the ravages of rats and white ants. Disgusting heaps
of ashes and scraps of food, piles of rotten straw, hundreds of old
baskets and gourd-shells stood as high as one’s head all along the
narrow alleys that parted hut from hut; whilst outside the Seriba,
just at its very entrances, there were masses of mouldy rubbish,
overgrown with the most noxious of fungus, that rose as high as the
houses; at every step there was sure to be an accumulation of some
abominable filthiness or other, such as nowhere else, I should think,
even in the Mohammedan world, could be found in immediate proximity to
human habitations; altogether the place presented such a dismal scene
of dirt, decay, and disorder that it was enough to induce a fit of
nightmare upon every one with the smallest sense of either neatness or
decorum. Truly it was a wonderful specimen of domestic economy which
this horde of undisciplined Nubians had thus elaborated.

The level country for a mile or more round the Seriba was occupied by
the arable lands belonging to the settlement. Longo was one of the
oldest establishments in the country, and the adjacent soil was no less
productive than that around the Seriba of Ghattas. The Bongo villages
were all situated at some distance to the west.

Amoory’s representative agent, Zelim, had formerly been a soldier, one
of the Nizzam, in the Turkish service, and was a native of the wild
district of Baria, in the mountains of Taka; he was now absent from
the Seriba, but had left orders that I should be hospitably entertained
and that everything which his stores could furnish should be placed at
my disposal. A grove of excellent plantains was close at hand, from
which I obtained a bounteous supply of that luscious fruit.

[Sidenote: MUTUAL CURIOSITY.]

All the year round a considerable number of slave traders resided in
the place, and were always attended by those wild sons of the steppes,
the Baggara of the Rizegat, who, with their lean, fly-bitten cattle,
had to camp out as well as they could in the environs of the Seriba.
They had never before set eyes upon a Christian, and full of eager
wonder they flocked together to survey me, keeping, however, at a
distance of several yards from personal contact, probably dreading the
malign influence of the “evil eye” of a Frank. Their curiosity was
still further roused when they saw me drawing pictures of their cattle,
and when I offered them my various sketches for their own inspection
they appeared to lose much of the alarm which they had exhibited. I
rose from my seat, and held up to them one picture after another; the
effect was little short of magical; their uncouth tones seemed to
soften into a murmur of delight, and so effectually had I succeeded
in gaining their confidence that some of them were induced to sit
for their own portraits. All those that I drew had fine light brown
complexions, slim muscular frames, and perfectly regular features; the
expression of the face might fairly be pronounced open and honest, and
exhibited the strong resolution that might be expected of a warlike
nation whose occupations, when not in the battle-field, were in hunting
and cattle-breeding. Their profiles all formed quite a right angle;
their noses failed to be aquiline, but were rounded and well-formed;
the faces of the younger men were good-tempered looking, having a
somewhat effeminate expression, which was still further increased by
the high round forehead. All of them seemed to wear their hair in long
slender braids running in rows along the top of the head and drooping
over the neck behind.

As I was pursuing my occupation, and quietly taking my series of
portraits, watched intently by a hundred spectators, who stood around
with open mouths which revealed an astonished admiration, my attention
was all at once arrested by a commotion which was taking place just
outside the circle of the admirers. An old fanatic from Darfoor was
raving away and denouncing loudly what he pleased to call the iniquity
of my proceedings; he professed that my pursuit was beyond all
endurance, and that he was not going to countenance my presumptuous
practices. I shouted to the old rascal to hold his tongue, to mind
his own business, and be off, and most of the bystanders took up the
same strain, some beginning to taunt and jeer the fellow with such a
volley of satirical laughter that, completely discomfited, he was glad
to skulk off as quickly as he could. I could not resist having a word
of my own, and just as he was retiring I shouted after him, for his
comfort, the native proverb, “Trust to the protection of the Almighty
as to the shade of an acacia, but,” I added, “they had need be better
acacias than those of your miserable land.”

On the 6th of January I resumed my progress. Taking a south-westerly
direction I accomplished a good day’s march of eighteen miles and
reached Damury, Amoory’s subsidiary Seriba on the River Pongo. A rocky
soil covered with bush had predominated for the greater portion of
the distance, the route having been perfectly level and unbroken by
the smallest depression. We had crossed the beds of five brooks which
were nearly dry. Taking them in order they were, the Okilleah, a mere
line of stagnant puddles; the Kulloo,[67] a larger brook overhung with
sizygium-bushes, and containing water as high as one’s knees; the
Horroah, a dry hollow bed; the Daboddoo, with a few pools; and the
Ghendoo, with holes from which the water had either dried up or drained
away. All these, when supplied with water, were tributary to the Pongo,
and flowed towards the north-west.

[Sidenote: A PLANT OF HAPPY OMEN.]

Midday, between the Kulloo and the Horroah, we had come upon a gigantic
fig-tree (_Ficus lutea_), one of those memorials of the past that
are so often seen in Bongoland, marking, as they do, the site of an
earlier native village. The name of the place was Ngukkoo. The enormous
tree had a short stem enveloped in a perfect network of aerial roots,
struck downwards from the branches, whilst at the summit it spread out
into a crown of foliage that under the vertical midday sun formed a
shadow on the ground of which the circumference, as I proved by actual
measurement, was not less than 230 feet.

During the latter portion of the march we had seen a considerable
number of candelabra Euphorbiæ and Calotropis. The appearance of the
Calotropis (called in Arabic “el Usher”) was indicative of a more
northerly type of vegetation, as the plant is characteristic of the
steppes of Nubia, Arabia, and the frontiers of India: this was the
first time I had seen it in the territory of the Seribas; the “el
Usher” had evidently been introduced into this part of the country
by traders from the north, and the solid stems of the plants, which
elsewhere are little more than shrubs, bore ample witness to the
long-established traffic on this commercial highway. The explanation of
the extensive diffusion of this plant may be found in the fact that the
silky down that covers the seeds in their large plump pods is used as a
material for stuffing cushions. In the northern steppes its appearing
in sight is ever hailed by the traveller as a happy omen, as it enjoys
the reputation of always having either a well or a hidden spring of
fresh water in its immediate vicinity.

Damury was situated close to the right-hand bank of the Pongo, as the
Bongo call this affluent of the Bahr-el-Arab. On earlier maps the
river was marked as the Kozanga, but this I found to be merely the
designation of a small mountainous ridge that extended for several
leagues along the left bank of the river to the south-west of the
Seriba. On the 17th of July, 1863, Theodor von Heuglin[68] had visited
the spot for the purpose of selecting a dry and rocky eminence in
the woods where a camp might be erected for the headquarters of Miss
Tinné’s expedition. If this scheme had been carried into practice
the melancholy sacrifice of life that resulted from the unwholesome
atmosphere of Bizelly’s Seriba might happily have been spared; but the
difficulties of properly organising so large a party of travellers were
insuperable, and the project of removal to that healthier resort fell
to the ground.

The transitoriness which seems to be the characteristic of all the
institutions of this land prevented me from ascertaining the exact site
of the dwelling-place of the deceased Bongo chief Kulanda, mentioned by
Heuglin in his account of the visit he made to the place; but from the
comparison of certain points of correspondence, I entertain no doubt
but that my footsteps were then upon the very spot.

In its upper course through the district inhabited by the Sehre, the
Pongo, as already noted, bears the name of the Djee; it flows towards
the north-east, and after leaving the Bongo territory beyond Damury
passes through that of the Dembo, a tribe of Shillook origin related to
the Dyoor: on this account the Khartoomers call it the Bahr-el-Dembo.

The Dembo are under the jurisdiction of Ali Amoory, whose territories
extend far beyond the river to the north-west, and join the country of
the Baggara-el-Homr, his most remote Seribas being on the Gebbel Marra,
in the locality of a negro tribe called the Bambirry, probably also
a branch of the great Shillook family; but it should be stated that,
according to some accounts, these Bambirry are true Zandey Niam-niam
who have immigrated from the south and settled in their present
quarters.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER PONGO.]

The scenery about Damury was extremely like that around Awoory in the
Mittoo country; in fact it altogether reminded me of what I had seen on
my trip to the Rohl, especially as the Pongo exhibits not a few points
of resemblance to that river. Damury is built on rising rocky ground,
thickly covered with wood, and close to the eastern or right-hand bank
of the river. The slopes that enclosed the river-bed were about fifteen
feet in depth, and between them and the actual stream there was, on
either side, a strip of soil subject to inundation during the rainy
season and now broken up with numerous pools and backwaters. At this
date (January 7, 1871) the water was moving sluggishly along between
clay banks, some 10 feet down and 70 feet apart; but the water did
not cover a breadth of more than fifty feet and was nowhere more than
four feet in depth. Its velocity was the same as that of the Wow; but
whilst both the Wow and the Dyoor rolled along, even at this season,
in considerable volume, the Pongo was comparatively empty, and, as I
saw, it must have offered a very striking contrast to its appearance
during the Khareef, when no doubt it could make good its pretensions to
be a river of the second class. On the other side of the Pongo there
was a low tract of steppe, at least 3000 paces wide, which, of course,
represented the territory subject to inundation on the left bank. I
subsequently found that the entire length of the river, from its source
to Damury, could not at the most exceed 200 miles, and thus became able
more completely to realise the very remarkable periodic changes which
occur in the condition of the stream.

In various parts of the depression the vegetation of the open steppe is
replaced by close masses of stephogyne: these form marshy clumps, and
from their general habit very strongly resemble our alder-beds of the
north.

Close to the Seriba a deep chasm, called Gumango, opens out into the
valley of the river; it is one of the landslips, so common in this
region, caused by springs washing away the ferruginous swamp-ore from
below, and an inexperienced traveller might easily be led to mistake it
for the bed of a periodical watercourse of considerable magnitude. It
is thickly overgrown with brambles and creepers. The shrub Tinnea plays
a prominent part in the underwoods all around Damury, and many of the
plants that are found growing on the dry sand of the bed of the Pongo
may be considered as true representatives of the flora of the black
Nile-earth, and prove the hydrographical importance of the stream.

Just above the Seriba the course of the river was due east for a
distance of four miles, and in pursuing our westward journey we marched
along the left bank in the direction contrary to the stream until we
arrived at the spot where it made its bend away from the south. Here
we crossed. The sandy bed was not more than 100 feet wide, a grassy
depression beyond was about 400 paces across. On the borders of this we
came upon some ruined huts projecting above the grass, evidently the
remains of a forsaken Seriba of Bizelly’s, which, had likewise been
called Damury, after the name of the Bongo community that had had their
homes in the district. The Bongo had now withdrawn beyond the right
bank of the river, and thus the Pongo had been left as the boundary
between the populated country and the actual wilderness.[69] With very
slight deviations the remainder of our journey to Seebehr’s great
Seriba was in a direction due west. The ground rose considerably, and
on our left was a tall eminence of gneiss, called Ida, a northern spur
of the Kozanga ridge and (with regard to our present position) about
500 feet high. A deep brook, the Ooruporr, rising somewhere on the
slopes of this Mount Ida, here crossed our path, the line of its banks
being distinctly marked out by some specimens of the wild date-palm. A
little farther on we came to a dry, deep chasm, that formed the bed of
a periodic stream known as the Andimoh, which likewise descended from
the hill of Ida; its banks were marked by crags of gneiss and studded
with bamboos.

[Sidenote: THE KARRA.]

We passed onwards over masses of gneiss almost spherical in form,
overgrown with moss-like clusters of selaginella, and reached the bed
of the brook Karra, lying in its deep hollow. To this little stream
the Nubians gave the name of Khor-el-Ganna, on account of the jungles
of bamboo that enclose its rocky banks, which descend in successive
steps so as to produce a series of cascades. The Bongo reckon the Karra
as the boundary between their country and the country of the Golo; it
is also considered to be the line which separates the domain of the
landowner Ali Amoory from that of Idrees Wod Defter, whose Seriba is
about thirty-five miles from Damury and, as nearly as possible, half
way along our route thence to Seebehr’s chief settlement.

Beyond the Karra the path led over very undulated country; and we had
twice to cross a brook called Ya, which, formed mainly of a series of
deep basins, worked its devious way along a contracted defile. Having
at length mounted a steepish eminence of red rock we appeared to
bring our long ascent to an end, and commencing a gradual descent we
proceeded till we reached the brook Attidoh, beside which we encamped
for the night.

Large herds of buffaloes thronged the chief pools of the swampy bed,
and before it became quite dark I managed to creep within range of a
group of cows with their calves. The only result of my exertions was
that one calf fell dead upon the spot where it was struck, all my
other shots apparently taking no effect. Half the night was spent in
roasting, broiling, and drying the flesh of the young buffalo, and all
my party were in great good humour.

The forests for long distances were composed exclusively of lofty
Humboldtiæ, and increased in magnitude and denseness as we advanced
farther amongst them; they were so fine that they might well bear
comparison with any of the best wooded districts of the Niam-niam. We
crossed a half-dry khor (or stream-channel) called the Ngoory, and
shortly afterwards a marshy brook, with a considerable supply of water,
called the Akumunah; both of these joined the Mongono, of which the bed
at the place where we crossed it was so dry that it appeared only like
a tract of sand, seventy feet wide; but by turning up the loose sand to
the depth of six inches, a copious stream of clear water was discovered
to be running on its subterranean way over a gravelly bottom. In the
rainy season the Mongono assumes quite a river-like appearance, for I
discovered traces of important backwaters that had been left by its
inundation, and the banks that bounded its sandy bed were not much less
than eight feet high.

A little rose-coloured gentian, the Causcora, characterises the slopes
of the banks of this streamlet, growing just in the same luxuriant
manner as the kindred species that adorn the sides of our own brooks.
The frequent appearance of the Abyssinian Protea convinced me that the
elevation of the ground was greater than what we had left behind us:
as matter of fact we were at an average height of 2500 feet above the
level of the sea.

The Yow-Yow, a narrow sort of trench, made up of a series of deep
pools, next intersected our path. On the other side of this I mounted
a crag of gneiss, whence I obtained an extensive view towards the
west, and observed an elevated line of woods stretched out with the
precision of a wall from S.S.W. to N.N.E. The elevation was beyond the
Athena, a brook that we reached after first crossing two other but
minor streams. The bed of the Athena was formed of sand and gravel;
although it was dry, with the exception of some occasional water-pools
that had not failed, it was fifty feet in width. The steepness of the
banks demonstrated that in the rainy season they enclosed what would
be allowed to be a considerable river. Two more brooks with deep beds
had still to be crossed, and then we entered upon the cultivated
land adjacent to Idrees Wod Defter’s Seriba. Two miles more, along a
continuous ascent, brought us to the Seriba itself.

[Sidenote: IDREES WOD DEFTER.]

Idrees Wod Defter was a partner in Agahd’s firm. His Seriba had
been built about three years previously, and was composed of large
farmsteads, shut in almost with the seclusion of monasteries by
tall hedges of straw-work; they were occupied by the various great
slave-traders who had settled in the country. Four huts and a large
rokooba had recently been erected for the accommodation of the numerous
travellers who passed through, chiefly composed of second-class
traders, who, like itinerant Jews, wandered about from place to
place, hawking their goods. Idrees himself resided in his Niam-niam
Seribas, which, I was told, were near Mofio’s residence, seven or
eight days’ journey distant. Besides this chief settlement there were
two subsidiary Seribas, one about four leagues to the south-east,
on the western declivity of the Kozanga hills, and another at the
same distance to the south-west, the controller of which was named
Abd-el-Seed. The farmsteads of the chief Seriba stood in their separate
enclosures, and were not surrounded by the ordinary palisade. Close
by, on the south, a little spring trickling forth from a cleft in the
ground suddenly expanded into a clear rippling brook that ran merrily
to the west.

The natives that served the necessary demands of the Seriba belonged to
the tribe of the Golo. In manners and in general appearance they very
much resemble their eastern neighbours the Bongo, although the dialects
of the two tribes have very little in common. More than any other negro
tongue with which I gained much familiarity, the Golo dialect seems
to abound in sounds resembling the German vowels _ö_ and _ü_, and,
like some of the South African dialects, it contains some peculiar
nasal tones, which may be described as sharp and snapping, and which
are quite unknown to the neighbouring nations. Another peculiarity
consists in the frequent occurrence of certain lingual sounds, which in
a measure may be represented by _ds_ and _ts_.

[Illustration: Golo Woman.]

Escorted by the controller of the Seriba I made an inspection of all
the neighbouring hamlets, and observed that the style of the Golo
architecture was far more like that of the Niam-niam than that of the
Bongo. The roofs of the huts projected far beyond the clay-walls, and
were supported on light posts which formed a colonnade, the walls
themselves being whitewashed with hyæna-dung.

The flora of the bush is distinguished by large numbers of _Euphorbia
venenifica_, which is only sporadically represented in this district,
and a tree of a type which is rare in the southern parts of Darfoor
and Kordofan and in the Western and Central Soudan, the _Eriodendron
anfractuosum_, being in fact the “cotton tree” of the colonist, was
planted near the Seribas for its ornamental qualities. It is called
“ruhm” by the Foorians, and is chiefly remarkable for the verticillate
arrangement of its branches, separating the crown of the tree into
divisions distinct from each other, like an araucaria—a peculiarity
that results in its being resorted to by the poor heathen negroes of
Baghirmy, when they are on the look-out for a place of refuge from the
bands of slave-hunters: large conical prickles of an immense thickness
cover the stem, almost like the clusters of barnacles on a log of wood
that has been exposed to the influence of the sea.

[Sidenote: MEETING AN OLD FRIEND.]

Just as I was on the point of leaving the Seriba of Idrees Wod Defter,
my old friend Mohammed Aboo Sammat arrived. He came in the train of a
large party of Bongo who were conveying corn to the place, and as, like
myself, he was on his way to the Egyptian camp, we joined company and
started without further delay to the west.

Half a league beyond the Seriba we left the cultivated land and
re-entered the forest wilderness near the village of the Golo chief
Kaza. Far and wide the fields were sown with sweet potatoes, and dokhn
corn was extensively cultivated. In the village of Kaza we noticed
several of the peculiar corn-magazines upon the construction of which
the Golo spend so much care. They are at once bold and graceful in
design. The actual receptacle for the corn is made of clay and is in
the form of a goblet; it is covered with a conical roof of straw, which
serves as a movable lid; to protect it from the ravages of rats it is
mounted on a short substantial pedestal, that is supported at the base
by stakes arranged as a series of flying buttresses. Altogether the
structure is very symmetrical; and the clay is worked into tasteful
graduated mouldings that add considerably to the general finish of the
whole. The dwelling huts of the Golo also display peculiarities in
their style of building, and bear evident marks of being erected with
unusual care and labour.

[Illustration: Corn-magazine of the Golo.]

The Seriba we had just quitted was situated on the watershed between
the Kooroo and the Pongo. We crossed the last stream in the Pongo
system just beyond Kaza’s hamlets; it was called the Abbuloh, and
was now thirty-five feet wide and two feet deep. Farther on the path
gradually rose through a shady wood until we reached an eminence strewn
over with blocks of gneiss; then descending, still through woods, we
came to a copious brook of about the same dimension as the Abbuloh.
This was the Bombatta, which flowed in a north-western direction and
joined the Kooroo. The next brook, the Abeela, moved in the same
direction, and was composed of a connected series of deep basins. Two
more rivulets of the same character followed, the second of which,
named the Ngoddoo, flowed past a flat bare elevation of gneiss and
joined the Kooroo only a short distance to the west. Amongst the autumn
flora of this region the Hydralia was very conspicuous, its brilliant
sky-blue blossoms blending with the grass so as to form a charming
carpet over the depressions of the brooks.

[Sidenote: THE BAHR-EL-KOOROO.]

An hour after crossing the Ngoddoo we arrived at the bank of the
Bahr-el-Kooroo, as this important affluent of the Bahr-el-Arab is
called by the Mohammedan settlers; the name is probably borrowed from
the Baggara Arabs, as amongst the Golo (whose territory it divides from
that of the Kredy on the west) it is sometimes called the Mony, and
sometimes the Worry; by the Sehre it is called the Wee. At the place
of our transit it was flowing towards the N.N.W., and the current was
rather rapid. The entire breadth of the bed was between ninety and
a hundred feet, but of this only sixty feet was covered with water,
the depth of which nowhere exceeded two feet. At one spot the river
flowed over blocks and layers of gneiss that were overgrown with mossy
Tristichæ. The banks stood fifteen feet high, and although there
were woods on either side that grew right down to the water, many
indications remained of their being subject to a periodical inundation:
a canoe left high up on the dry ground was an evidence how full of
water the river must be during the rainy season.

We kept continually meeting small companies of slave traders, mounted
on oxen or on donkeys and having their living merchandise in their
train.

The long tracts of one species of forest-tree reminded me very much of
the masses of the alder-like Vatica on the Tondy. Beyond the west bank
of the river the path led up the steep side of a valley, and the level
of the soil rapidly increased. Then we came to a series of ruts like
deep ditches, some quite dry and some still filled with running water.
We counted six of these before reaching the Beesh, or Khor-el-Rennem,
which is an affluent of the Beery and the largest of the three
tributaries of the Babr-el-Arab, which I had the opportunity of seeing.

The Khor-el-Rennem, or goats’ brook, received its name from the
circumstance that once, during the period of the annual rains, a whole
herd of goats had made an attempt to cross the stream and had all been
drowned in the rushing flood. It was shut in by trees and bushes of
many kinds, and these cast a gloomy shade over the chasm which was worn
by the waters; it was now only a foot deep and fifteen feet wide.

Here, again, the land on the western shore rose suddenly like a wall,
a peculiarity in the topography of the country that testified to the
continual increase of its level above the sea.

Two easy leagues forward, generally over cultivated country and past
several hamlets belonging to the Kredy tribe, the Nduggo, and I reached
what I designed should be my resting-place for awhile at Seebehr’s
Seriba, which was also the Egyptian camp. The distance of seventy
miles from the Pongo had been accomplished in four days. By this time
I had become quite accustomed to the habit of counting my steps. I had
become my own “perambulator,” and could not help thinking, as I marched
along, of Xenophon and his _parasangs_ in the expedition of the Greeks.
One day of our ordinary marching would accomplish about four or five
parasangs.

[Sidenote: SEEBEHR’S SERIBA.]

Seebehr’s Seriba was 2282 feet above the level of the sea, 464 feet
higher than Bizelly’s Seriba on the Ghetty, and 737 feet higher than
Ghattas’s chief settlement. There was but little observable change in
the character of the vegetation; few new plants appeared, and almost
the only difference was that the forests had apparently become more
dense. But however little the gradual elevation of the land might
affect the vegetation, yet the hydrographical condition of the country
very plainly attested a complete alteration in the nature of the soil.
Although our present latitude was 8° N., the general aspect that came
under the observation of a traveller was almost identical with what he
would see between latitude 6° and latitude 5° in passing southwards
from Bongoland to the Niam-niam.

Immediately after crossing the Pongo we quitted the soft absorbent
soil, and entered upon a region so prolific in springs that, all the
year round, every rivulet, brook, and trench, and even the smallest
fissure in the earth, is full of water, and that of the brightest and
purest quality. Between the Pongo and Seebehr’s Seriba we had crossed
no less than twenty brooks and two rivers of considerable magnitude.
Just as had been the case in the Niam-niam lands, water trickled
from every crevice and found an outlet on every slope, whilst in the
low-lying country of the Dyoor and Bongo, on the edge of the red
swamp-ore, where chasms and watercourses are quite as abundant, no
springs ever break forth during the winter months, and the half-dry
beds are supplied by no other water than what has been left from the
previous Khareef.

This circumstance seems in a certain degree to illustrate the
conformation of the south-western side of the Bahr-el-Ghazal basin; for
the general direction of all the streams that contribute to its volume
would be at right angles to the lines of the terraces that rise one
above the other at various levels above the sea.

The Seriba was enclosed by a palisade 200 feet square; hundreds of
farmsteads and groups of huts were scattered round, extending far away
along the eastern slope of a deep depression which was traversed in
the direction of the north-west by a brook that was fed by numerous
springs. The whole place, in all its leading features, had the aspect
of a town in the Soudan, and vividly reminded me of Matamma, the great
market town in Gallabat, where all the inland trade with Abyssinia is
transacted. To establishments of this magnitude the natives give the
name of “Dehm,”[70] which is, in fact, an equivalent for “a town.”
The heights to the east of the place were more important than those
immediately bordering on the depression, and in the N.N.E. very high
ground was visible in the distance. Towards the west the country sloped
downwards for a couple of leagues to the river Beery, which, it has
been mentioned, is an important tributary of the Bahr-el-Arab.

The Egyptian troops were encamped at the southern extremity of the
settlement, and were under the command of the Vokeel-el-urda, Ahmed
Aga, who had been the lieutenant of the late Sandjak. The black
swindler, Hellali, was still kept in confinement, his company of
soldiers being treated as prisoners of war and placed under the
surveillance of the other troops in a section of the camp allotted to
the purpose. Great scarcity of provisions prevailed, for, in addition
to the troops, the population had been augmented by the arrival
of many hundreds of slave-dealers from Kordofan. Immediately on
receiving information of the schemes that were being plotted against
his copper-mines by the Egyptian Government, Husseïn, the Sultan of
Darfoor, had prohibited all intercourse between his own frontiers and
the Seribas of the Khartoomers; consequently the traders from Aboo
Harras, in Kordofan, found themselves obliged to take a longer and
more dangerous route across the steppes of the predatory Baggara; but,
in spite of every difficulty, the presence of the Government troops
offered such an attraction that the number of the traders was just
doubled. They were enticed by the hope of carrying on a lucrative
business with the avaricious Turkish soldiers, whose influential
position gave them opportunities that were specially advantageous for
making high profits; but besides this, the attempt, however abortive,
of the Government authorities in Khartoom to suppress the slave-trade
along the Nile had had the effect of driving up the traffic in the
upper countries to such a premium that the dealers were spurred on
to fresh energy. Since the last rainy season upwards of 2000 small
slavedealers had arrived at the Seriba, and others were still
expected.[71] All these people, like the troops, lived upon Seebehr’s
corn-stores, and thus provisions became so scarce that they could
hardly be purchased for their own weight in copper, which, with the
exception of slaves, was the solitary medium of exchange.

[Sidenote: EGYPTIAN TROOPS.]

It might not unnaturally have been expected that the Egyptian troops
would have taken up their position in the richest and most prolific of
the corn-lands; but instead of this they had quartered themselves on
the extreme limit of the Seribas in the Bahr-el-Ghazal district. The
avowed reason for this was that they might be better able to overlook
the approaches to the copper-mines of Darfoor, but the real motive was
in order that they might be nearer the fountain-head of the slave-trade
and in direct communication with the northern territories, from which
the main supply of living merchandise was obtained. I have already
drawn attention to the impossibility of raising the contributions of
corn required by the Egyptian commander, and I now became a personal
witness of the unreasonableness of his demands; he appeared to have
no other object than to exhaust the land already impoverished by the
slave-trade, and in true Turkish fashion he set to work to involve all
that remained in utter ruin.

In point of fact, however, it must be owned that it was a matter of
considerable difficulty (after the bloody conflict that had resulted
from Hellali’s compulsory levies) for Ahmed Aga to raise the necessary
supplies for the coming Khareef; but he made his requisitions in the
most unfair way; his partiality was extreme, for while he exempted some
Seribas from any contribution at all, he imposed upon others a demand
for a double supply. My friend Mohammed was one of the oppressed. He
had been called upon to furnish fifty ardebs of corn, a quantity
corresponding to the burdens of 150 to 170 bearers, and not only was
his Seriba at Sabby at a distance of seventeen days’ journey from this
spot, but his corn-magazines were still another four days’ journey
farther on, so that the mere maintenance of the bearers for three weeks
would take thirty ardebs more. Mohammed, in truth, had not sufficient
corn of his own to meet the demand of the Divan, and would be reduced
to the necessity, in order to make up what was deficient, of purchasing
at famine prices from other Seribas which already were well-nigh
exhausted.

I took upon myself to intercede with the Aga, but to no purpose; he
was utterly inflexible, and, not content with insisting upon his
original demand, inflicted a heavy fine for the delay in the payment
of the tribute, by exacting a contribution of 100 ardebs instead of
fifty. But what irritated me more than anything else was the barefaced
iniquity with which he backed up Shereefee in his refusal to make any
compensation to Mohammed for the outrage, no better than a highway
robbery, which he had perpetrated upon him, whilst at the same time he
pretended to upbraid Mohammed for what he called his implacability. The
solution of the matter was very easy. Shereefee had bribed Ahmed Aga
with a lavish present of slaves, and that was a gift as acceptable as
cash, just because they were a recognised medium of currency.

Notwithstanding the crowd of human beings thus aggregated together,
the bill of health, as far as it was influenced by the climate, was
perfectly satisfactory. There were, of course, occasional cases of
hereditary or insidious disease; but even amongst the slaves, closely
packed as they were, the mortality was inconsiderable, and the human
bones that lay scattered about were comparatively fewer than what
I had grown accustomed to notice in other places. The effeminate
Turkish soldiers, however, grumbled excessively at their position;
they besieged me with petitions that I would not only represent their
misery to the Governor-General in the strongest terms, but that I would
do my utmost to convince the authorities that neither profit nor glory
could be gained from an enterprise which was exposing their lives to so
much peril. “Do this,” they said, “and you will be doing us one of the
greatest favours that it is in the power of mortal man to confer, and
the blessing of Allah be with you!”

[Sidenote: TURKS IN CENTRAL AFRICA.]

Certain it is that these Turks, fit for nothing better than to lounge
about on a divan, were the most unsuitable beings imaginable ever to
have been sent on an expedition into the wilds of Central Africa. A
year of their ordeal had scarcely passed, and already their complaints
were piteous enough to melt a heart of stone; they seemed helpless
as babes, and I verily believe that had it not been for the Nubians
they would have been cheated and trampled on and reduced to the direst
necessities in this land of solitude and starvation. They were all
indifferent walkers; they could not endure the food of the country;
they sorely missed their “schnaps;” they were aggrieved at the loss of
their wheat-flour and their rice, and did not understand going without
their habitual luxuries. It was indeed a kind of set-off against all
this that they could be as indolent as they pleased. There was nothing
to do, and nothing they did; they did not plant out a single plot of
maize, they did not lay out a kitchen-garden of the simplest kind; but,
loitering about from morning till night, they kept up their unfailing
growls of discontent, dealing out their invectives against the
“wretched” land and its “wretched” people. No wonder they complained of
_ennui_. Divest a Turk of his fine clothes, his formal etiquette, his
measured speech, and his little bit of honour which may be described as
“l’extérieur de la vertu et l’élégance des vices,” and little remains
to elevate him above a Nubian of the worst class; nevertheless, the
mutual antipathy that existed between the Turks and the Nubians was
very marked, and verified the proverb that “Arabs’ blood and Turks’
blood will never boil together.”

The remarkably large contingent of Gellahbas that chanced to be within
the place gave the dirty crowds of men, such as are more or less
to be invariably found in every Seriba, a more motley aspect than
usual, and altogether the Dehm offered a deplorable contrast to the
freshness of the wilderness that we had so long and so recently been
traversing. The hawkers of living human flesh and blood, unwashed
and ragged, squatted in the open places keeping their eye upon their
plunder, eager as vultures in the desert around the carcase of a camel.
Their harsh voices as they shouted out their blasphemous prayers; the
drunken indolence and torpor of the loafing Turks; the idle, vicious
crowds of men infested with loathsome scabs and syphilitic sores; the
reeking filthy exhalations that rose from every quarter—all combined
to make the place supremely disgusting. Turn where I would, it was ever
the same; there was the recurrence of sights, sounds, and smells so
revolting that they could not do otherwise than fill the senses with
the most sickening abhorrence.

Such were my impressions as I made my entry into the Dehm Nduggo,
as the settlement is called from the Kredy tribe with which the
neighbourhood is populated. The first consideration I had to make for
myself was whether I would become the guest of the Turks or of the
Nubians; I had to choose whether I would sue for hospitality at the
hands of Seebehr or of the Turkish Aga. After due deliberation I made
up my mind to apply to Seebehr, for as the Turks had taken the smaller
share in the affair with Hellali, I concluded that they constituted the
less powerful element, and, in truth, they were themselves dependent
upon Seebehr’s liberality. But what perhaps influenced me still more
was that my firman from the Government had been lost in the fire, and
that consequently I was lacking in credentials to make any formal and
authoritative demands; and I did not wish to be at the mercy of the
commander. As it was, Ahmed Aga did not even fulfil the stipulations
that had been made in my favour by the Government in Khartoom, and
all that I could get out of him was a supply of good writing-paper to
enable me to go on with my sketching.

Amongst the effects of Kurshook Ali, on which I had set my hopes,
I could discover nothing that would be of the least service to me;
his successor had long since, in true Ottoman fashion, disposed
of everything that could be turned to account, a proceeding that
subsequently involved him in a lawsuit with the son of the deceased
Sandjak.

[Sidenote: SEEBEHR’S COURT.]

Meanwhile I was most kindly received by Seebehr, and as long as I
remained in the Seriba I had not the faintest cause of complaint. He
was himself in a debilitated state of health; the wound that he had
received in the late fray had proved very dangerous, the bullet having
completely penetrated the ankle-bone. The only means employed for
healing the wound was repeated syringing with pure olive-oil, a remedy
which, though slow, had been efficacious; for when I saw him, after
some weeks had elapsed since the casualty, the injury was all but cured.

Seebehr[72] had surrounded himself with a court that was little less
than princely in its details. A group of large well-built square huts,
enclosed by tall hedges, composed the private residence; within these
were various state apartments, before which armed sentries kept guard
by day and night. Special rooms, provided with carpeted divans, were
reserved as ante-chambers, and into these all visitors were conducted
by richly-dressed slaves, who served them with coffee, sherbet, and
tchibouks. The regal aspect of these halls of state was increased
by the introduction of some lions, secured, as may be supposed, by
sufficiently strong and massive chains. Behind a large curtain in the
innermost hut was placed the invalid couch of Seebehr. Attendants were
close at hand to attend to his wants, and a company of Fakis sat on
the divan outside the curtain and murmured their never-ending prayers.
In spite of his weakness and his suffering he was ever receiving a
stream of visitors, who had something to say to “the Sheikh,” as he
was commonly called. I often paid him a visit, and, to my surprise
at first, was accommodated with a chair by the side of his bed. He
repeatedly bewailed the helplessness of his condition, saying how vexed
he was at being unable personally to provide for my requirements,
adding that if he had been well, he should have had the greatest
pleasure in escorting me over his lands. It was a great relief to my
mind that he did not apply to me for surgical advice. I was glad to
encourage him by my approbation of the remedy he was using, which, if
it possessed no particular virtue, had at least the recommendation of
being perfectly harmless.

A draft that I made on my account at Khartoom was duly honoured,
and I obtained a hundredweight of copper from Seebehr’s stores;
this I employed without delay as cash, and purchased soap, coffee,
and a variety of small articles from the hawking hangers-on of the
slave-traders, as well as a large supply of cartridge-paper for the
preservation of my botanical specimens.

The greatest service, however, that Seebehr afforded me was in
providing me with boots and shoes of European make; no acquisition was
to be appreciated higher than this; and in finding myself fresh and
well-shod I felt myself renovated to start again upon my wanderings
with redoubled vigour. None but those who have been in my condition
can comprehend the pleasure with which I hailed the sight of the most
trivial and ordinary articles. Once again I was in possession of a
comb, some pipe-bowls, and lucifers. As I was not in the least inclined
to forego my smoking while on the march, I had been obliged, in order
to get a light for my tobacco, to make one of my people carry a blazing
firebrand throughout the recent journey.

[Sidenote: IBRAHIM EFFENDI.]

No sooner was I installed in the huts allotted to me than I received
a succession of visitors; some of them crossed my threshold from
mere idle curiosity, whilst others came either with some vague hope
of profit or from some innate love of intrigue. I was honoured by a
call from the great Zelim, Ali Aboo Amoory’s chief controller, who
came to express his hope that I had been satisfied with my reception
in his Seriba, which I had visited during his absence. Then I made
the acquaintance of some of the more important slave-traders, who had
long been settled in the place and who came burning with curiosity
to know the real object of my journey. But the most remarkable of
all my visitors was a certain Ibrahim Effendi, who held the office
of head clerk and accountant in the Egyptian camp. His life had been
one unbroken series of criminal proceedings, and he had been guilty
of frauds and swindling transactions to an extent that was absolutely
incredible. Originally a subordinate in one of the departments of the
Egyptian Ministry he had, during Said Pasha’s Government, forged the
Viceregal seal and attached it to a document professing to appoint him
to the command of a regiment that was to be formed in Upper Egypt, and
to prescribe that the local government there should defray all the
expenses of levying and equipping the troops. This document he had the
audacity to present first with his own hands to the governor of the
province, and then forthwith he proceeded to present himself in the
Upper Egyptian town as the colonel of the new regiment. Only those
who are acquainted with the disorder and despotism that prevailed in
every branch of the Administration during the lifetime of that Viceroy
could believe that such a deception would be practicable; but I am
in a position positively to assert that the fraudulent artifice did
really for a while succeed. Two months afterwards, the troops having
meanwhile been embodied, the Viceroy happened to make an excursion up
the Nile, and seeing a great many soldiers on its banks, inquired the
number of their regiment and why they were there. His astonishment was
unbounded when he was told of a regiment of whose existence he had
never previously heard. Ibrahim was summoned at once. Throwing himself
at the Viceroy’s feet, the culprit colonel confessed his guilt and
begged for mercy. The good-natured Said, who never suffered himself
to lose his temper, far less to go into a rage, merely sentenced him
to a few years’ banishment and imprisonment in Khartoom. As soon as
Effendi had completed his term of punishment and regained his liberty,
he started afresh as clerk to some of the Soudan authorities; but his
habits of fraud and embezzlement were as strong as ever, and he was
caught in the act of decamping with the cash-box, and was this time
banished to Fashoda, on the White Nile, as being the safest place for
dangerous characters of his stamp. After he had been here for several
years our friend managed to excite the compassion of Kurshook Ali, who
was passing through the place, and was induced to give him his present
post of head clerk to his division of the Government troops. This
appointment brought Effendi to the district of the Gazelle.

Well versed as he was in the ways of the world, Effendi, by his wit
and versatility, seemed to have the power of winning every heart. His
position here in the Egyptian camp offered only too wide a scope for
his love of intrigue. He had played an important part in the affair
with Hellali, having doubtless been at the bottom of the stroke of
policy that had reconciled Seebehr to the Turkish soldiers by bringing
the hated Hellali to chains and to the yoke of the sheba. Probably he
was again bidding for the command of come troops, and I am bound to
confess that he seemed in a fair way of being able before long to
gratify his old predilection for military organisation.

[Sidenote: DAR FERTEET.]

The uninhabited wilderness stretching to the west of the Pongo, a
district long known to the inhabitants of Darfoor and Kordofan under
the name of Dar Ferteet,[73] represents one of the oldest domains
of the slave-trade, and at the present day, as far as regards its
aboriginal population, presents to the eye of a traveller the aspect
of what may be described as “a sold-out land.” Only within the last
fifteen years have the Khartoom trading-companies penetrated into
the district watered by the Gazelle, but long before that numbers of
slave-dealers had already formed settlements in Dar Ferteet, then as
now streaming into the country from Darfoor and Kordofan accompanied
by hundreds of armed men, and coming, year after year, in the winter
months so as to accomplish their business and get back to their homes
before the rainy season again set in. Some of them, however, did not
return, but remained permanently in the land, and, under the sanction
of the more influential chieftains, founded large establishments
(Dehms) to serve as marts or _depôts_ for their black merchandise.
As soon as the ivory-traders, with their enormous armed bands, made
their appearance in the country, the Gellahbas received them with
open arms; and the Nubians, in order to provide for the storing of
their ivory and ammunition, forthwith combined their Seribas with the
Dehms already established, so that in the course of time these places
assumed the appearance of the market towns of the Soudan. The Gellahbas
by remaining in their old quarters reaped a twofold advantage: in
the first place, the large contingents of armed men that were now
introduced into the country relieved them from the necessity of
maintaining troops of their own; and, secondly, they were exonerated
from the heavy imposts that they had been compelled to pay to the
native Kredy chieftains, as these were very speedily reduced by the
Nubians to the subordinate position of mere sheikhs or local overseers
of the natives. In the course of my tour through Dar Ferteet I became
acquainted with five of these towns, which represented so many centres
of the slave-trade in this part of the country.

But although the various Khartoom companies who had thus taken up their
quarters in the Dehms sent out expeditions every year to the remotest
of the Kredy tribes in the west, and even penetrated beyond them to the
Niam-niam in the south-west, it did not take them very long to discover
that the annual produce of ivory was altogether inadequate to defray
the expenses of equipping and maintaining their armed force. Finding,
however, that the region offered every facility for the sale of slaves,
they began gradually to introduce this unrighteous traffic into their
commercial dealings, until at length it became, if not absolutely the
prime, certainly one of the leading objects of their expeditions;
thus the people whom the professional Gellahbas had at first hailed
as friends grew up, ere long, to be their most formidable rivals. For
example, Seebehr Rahama himself, who had to maintain a fighting force
of a thousand men on his territories, had, as the result of his ivory
expedition in the previous year, gained no more than 300 loads or 120
cwt., a quantity which realised but little over 2300_l._ at Khartoom;
but at the same time he sent probably as many as 1800 slaves direct to
Kordofan, there to be disposed of on his own account.

Ethnographically considered, Dar Ferteet presented a wondrous medley.
Perhaps nowhere else, in an area so limited, could there be found such
a conglomeration of the representatives of different races as upon the
cultivated tracts in the environs of the Dehms: they were evidently
the miserable remnants of an unceasing work of destruction. As we
have already observed, the neighbours of the Bongo upon the west were
the Golo and the Sehre, who combine together and have their homes in
common. Beyond them, still farther to the west, are the Kredy. These
Kredy do not seem to be limited to any particular district, but like
blades of any one particular species of grass, crop up every now and
then, quite at haphazard, as it were, amongst the other species in
detached groups. The tribes which predominate, or at any rate those
which I had the most frequent opportunities of observing, were the
Nduggo, who were settled around Seebehr’s Dehm; the Bia, who were
settled all about Dehm Gudyoo; and the Yongbongo, who occupied the
region between the two.

[Sidenote: THE KREDY.]

Of all the people of the Bahr-el-Ghazal district with whom I made
acquaintance, the Kredy, I think, were the ugliest; and whether it
was in consequence of their longer period of subjection, or that they
were depressed by their straitened circumstances, I cannot say, but
certainly they were, to my mind, very inferior in intelligence to
the Golo, the Sehre, and the Bongo. In form the Kredy are thick and
unwieldy, and entirely wanting in that symmetry of limb which we admire
in the slim figures of those who inhabit the swampy depressions of the
Gazelle; but although their limbs are strong and compact, they must
not be supposed to be like the muscular and well-developed limbs of
Europeans. They are like the true Niam-niam in being below an average
height, and resemble them more particularly in the broad brachycephalic
form of their skulls; there is, however, a very marked difference
between the two races in the growth of the hair and in the shape of the
eyes. Their lips are thicker and more protruding and their mouths wider
than those of any other negroes that I saw throughout the whole of my
travels. Their upper incisor teeth were either filed to a point or cut
away, so as to leave intervening gaps between tooth and tooth; in the
lower jaw there is no mutilation, and the teeth being left intact may
perhaps account for their language being more articulate than any other
in this part of Africa, although, at the same time, it bears but the
slightest resemblance to any of them. Their complexion is coppery-red,
the same hue that is to be noticed among the fairer individuals of the
Bongo; but, like the majority of the Niam-niam, they are generally
coated with such encrusted layers of dirt that they appear several
shades darker than they really are: as a rule I should say that they
are decidedly fairer than either the Bongo or the Niam-niam.

The Kredy are bounded on the north by the Baggara-el-Homr; on the
north-west, three and a half days’ journey from Dehm Nduggo, reside the
tribe of the Manga, who are said to be quite distinct from the Kredy;
on the west, five or six days’ journey from Dehm Gudyoo, on the Upper
Bahr-el-Arab, are the abodes of the Benda, whose land has long been
known to the Foorians under the name of Dar Benda, and used to be the
limit of their venturesome slave-raids; still farther to the west are
the settlements of the Aboo Dinga, who are said to have no affinity
either with Kredy or Niam-niam. The most important of the western Kredy
tribes are the Adya, Bia, and Mareh, and towards the south-west their
territory is approximate to the frontier wildernesses of Mofio, the
Niam-niam king. Finally, in the south, there is a mingled population of
Golo and Sehre, the Sehre decidedly very much predominating in numbers.

[Sidenote: A PROJECT ABANDONED.]

Before I had learnt the true state of things with respect to the
caravan-roads that started from Dehm Nduggo, I had indulged the hope
of making my homeward journey by the overland route through Kordofan:
the prospect of extending my geographical knowledge by traversing
unknown lands was very attractive and almost irresistible, but when the
difficulties and drawbacks came to be reckoned up, I was compelled,
however reluctantly, to relinquish a project so perilous as marching
across the steppes of the Baggara, and to reconcile myself to retrace
my course by the more secure and habitual highway of the Nile. I
could willingly have borne the exposure to fatigue, and it might be
to hunger; I could have risked the peril of being attacked, and could
have stood my chance of procuring the necessary provisions and means of
transport; but the extreme uncertainty as to the length of time which
the slave-dealers’ caravans would take upon their northward return was
of itself sufficient to deter me from my scheme; I ascertained that,
whenever it suited their interest, they would linger for weeks and
weeks together at various places on their way, and delays such as this
were altogether inconsistent with my present purpose and convenience.

In the meantime I found a very desirable opportunity of forwarding my
long-written letters to Khartoom: the Turkish commander was about to
remit his own despatches by a caravan, and he undertook to enclose my
correspondence with his own. As a security against any injury that
might happen to the mail-bag from the caravan being attacked by the
marauding soldiers of the Sultan Husseïn, Ahmed Aga had provided an
ordinary Arab travelling chest with a double bottom as a hiding-place
for all the papers. The chest was confided to a trustworthy Faki, who
happily reached the Egyptian frontier without molestation.

Taking seven leagues as an average day’s march, the journey from
Dehm Nduggo to Aboo Harras on the southern frontier of Kordofan is
estimated to take thirty days. This statement was confirmed by various
independent testimonies, and I found moreover that it corresponded
with the distance of the two places as indicated by my map, a distance
which, according to the position that I assigned to Dehm Nduggo,
would be a trifle under 380 miles. The route first of all leads in
a N.N.E. direction to Seebehr’s most northerly Seriba, Serraggo, a
distance which it takes three days to accomplish. Another day’s march
and the traveller reaches Dalgowna, a depôt much frequented by the
slave-dealers and situated on the isolated mountain of the same name
as itself, from which there is said to be an extensive view across the
northern steppes. The Beery flows quite close to this Gebel Dalgowna,
on its way to join the Bahr-el-Arab farther to the north-east. Three
days’ journey more and the Bahr-el-Arab is attained, just at a spot
were it marks off the frontiers of the Baggara-el-Homr. On account
of the so-called Bedouins (known as “Arabs” in the common parlance
of the Soudan) residing upon its banks, the river has received, from
the traders of Kordofan and Darfoor, the designations both of the
Bahr-el-Arab and the Bahr-el-Homr: that these two appellations belong
to different rivers is quite a fallacy, and the mistake, which has
found its way into many maps, very probably originated in travellers
sometimes calling the river by one name and sometimes by the other.
There is really but the _one_ river. After another three days’ march
Shekka is reached, the great rendezvous in the territory of the
Baggara-Rizegat. It may thus be seen that the journey from Dehm Nduggo
to Shekka may be accomplished in ten or twelve days, according to the
length of the day’s marching.

According to the statements that I gathered and have now recorded,
Shekka, I should suppose, corresponds with a position described by
Escayrac de Lauture in his valuable accounts of these regions, and
which he distinguishes by the name of Sook-Deleyba (_i.e._, the market
near the Deleb palms). Shekka, in fact, appears to be an important
market-place and rendezvous for the itinerant slave-dealers, as well as
for the Baggara Bedouins, many of whom have permanent homes there; it
is the site also of the residence of Munzel, the Sheikh of the Rizegat.
But it is most notorious of all as being the principal resort of all
the great Kordofan slave-traders: being beyond the jurisdiction of
Egypt and its arbitrary officials, who are in the habit of extorting a
specific sum per head for hush-money on every slave that is conveyed
into the country, it is a spot that enables them to transact their
nefarious business free from the burdensome imposts, and to transmit
their living merchandise in whatever direction may suit them, all over
the provinces of the Soudan.

[Sidenote: ROUTE TO DARFOOR.]

The journey from Shekka to Aboo Harras, I was given to understand,
would require eighteen days, and even with very long days’ marching
could not be accomplished in less than fifteen days. All my informants
agreed most positively in asserting that there were no streams of any
magnitude to be crossed, and that even in the height of the rainy
season there were no brooks nor swamps to offer any serious obstacle to
travellers. There was, however, no time of the year, not even in the
middle of winter, when the Bahr-el-Arab could be crossed by any other
means than swimming, or by rafts constructed of grass.

The caravan-roads from Dehm Nduggo to Darfoor were closed at the time
of my visit. They nearly all started in a N.N.W. direction. Almost
immediately after leaving the Seriba, the traveller would have to cross
the Beery, and proceed for three or four leagues until he arrived at
the subsidiary Seriba Deleyb; another day’s march to the north-west
would bring him to one of the minor Seribas, of which the controller’s
name was Soliman; and two days more would find him at a Seriba on
the Gebel Mangyat, as the natives call that district. The notorious
copper-mines Hofrat-el-Nahahs[74] are said to be situated six days’
journey to the south of this region of the Manga, and to lie on the
southern frontier of Darfoor. The copper is brought into the market
either in the shape of clumsily-formed rings, full of angles, varying
in weight from five pounds to fifty, or in long oval cakes of very
imperfect casting. The price that I had to pay for the hundred rottoli
(about 80 lbs.) that I obtained from Seebehr was 1500 piastres, or
75 Maria Theresa dollars, which would be represented by about £15 of
English money.

Seebehr had a Seriba on the frontiers of Darfoor that was in constant
intercourse with this important place, and through his interest I
obtained a sample of the ore of these far-famed mines. It weighed about
five pounds. One half of it I handed to the Khedive of Egypt at an
audience with which he honoured me; the other half I deposited in the
Mineralogical Museum at Berlin. The specimen consisted of copper-pyrite
and quartz, with an earthy touch of malachite, commonly called green
carbonite of copper, but containing a very small quantity of the real
metal.

No systematic mining seems to be carried on in the “Hofrat-el-Nahahs,”
and the man who brought me the sample carefully concealed in his
clothes, informed me that the ore was found lying like loose rubble in
the dry bed of a khor. It may be presumed that by boring galleries,
or even by hewing out quarries, a large supply of the metal might be
obtained without any vast expenditure of time or money, for even in
the present condition of things, while the solid rock still remains
intact, the yield of copper for years past has been very considerable.
The Foorian copper even now takes a prominent part in the commerce of
the entire Soudan; it is conveyed across Wadai to Kano in Haussa, and,
according to Barth, it holds its own in the market even against that
imported from Tripoli.

FOOTNOTES:

[64] “Kurnuk” is the term used by the Nubians and Foorians
for a shed; the corresponding expression in the Soudan
Arabic being “Daher-el-Tor,” literally, the back of
an ox; thus “kurnuk” means generally any roof with a
horizontal ridge.

[65] Dr. Steudner died on the 10th of April, 1863, from an
attack of fever; a few days before that, in company
with Heuglin, he had commenced his first journey into
the interior; his object had been to reconnoitre the
country to the west of the Meshera, and to find a
suitable place for the accommodation of Miss Tinné’s
party during the rainy season.

[66] The real name of the firm is Ali-Aboo-Amoory, and
it has acquired an undesirable notoriety for its
fraudulent dealings with Miss Tinné’s expedition.

[67] “Kulloo” is in this neighbourhood the generic name for
brooks of this character.

[68] This was the most westerly point that Heuglin reached
in Central Africa.

[69] In the dialect of the Soudan these distinctions are
respectively rendered by the terms “Dar” (cultivated
land) and “Akabah” (wilderness).

[70] The Khartoomers have given the word Dehm an Arabic
plural, “Dwehm;” and by this term they distinguish the
great slave marts of the west.

[71] The entire number that year rose to 2700.

[72] Seebehr’s name at full length was
Seebehr-Rahama-Gyimme-Abel.

[73] Ferteet is the term by which the Foorians and Baggara
distinguish the Kredy tribes as a nation from the
Niam-niam. In a wider sense the term is applied to
all the heathen nations to the south of Darfoor. In
the Soudan the guinea-worm is also called Ferteet,
probably because the heathen negroes act especially
liable to its attacks.

[74] There is much uncertainty about the exact geographical
position of these famous mines. The accounts differ
widely, so that I can only approximately determine
the precise situation. According to Brown, Hofrat is
twenty-three and a half days’ journey from Kobbeh,
the capital of Darfoor, whilst according to Barth it
is only eight good days’ march from Tendelti, which
is a day’s journey from Kobbeh. I should imagine that
it probably lies a little to the west of the position
that I have assigned it in my map: of one thing I am
certain—it lies to the west of the roads to Darfoor.

CHAPTER XXII.

Underwood of Cycadeæ. Peculiar mills of the Kredy. Wanderings in
the wilderness. Crossing the Beery. Inhospitable reception at
Mangoor. Numerous brooks. Huge emporium of slave-trade. Highest
point of my travels. Western limit. Gallery-woods near Dehm
Gudyoo. Scorbutic attack. Dreams and their fulfilment. Courtesy
of Yumma. Remnants of ancient mountain ridges. Upper course
of the Pongo. Information about the far west. Great river of
Dar Aboo Dinga. Barth’s investigations. Primogeniture of the
Bahr-el-Arab. First giving of the weather. Elephant-hunters from
Darfoor. The Sehre. Wild game around Dehm Adlan. Cultivated
plants of the Sehre. Magic tuber. Deficiency of water. A
night without a roof. Irrepressible good spirits of the
Sehre. Lower level of the land. A miniature mountain-range.
Norway-rats. Gigantic fig-tree in Moody. The “evil eye.” Little
steppe-burning. Return to Khalil’s quarters.

As time elapsed, and I considered the life that I was leading, I could
not help thinking that there was something in the lines of the Russian
poet that was not altogether inappropriate to myself:—

“_Two years had passed; the gypsies still
Their frank and lawless lives fulfil;
From heath to heath they push, nor stay,
But find new quarters every day,
All heed for culture cast away:
And Aleck of their guild is free,
Nor kith nor kin remain his joy,
New pastimes every hour employ,
For gypsy, heart and soul, is he!_”[75]

It was on the 22nd of January that I prepared to resume my wanderings.
In the evening I took my leave of Sheikh Seebehr, and attended by six
bearers, with which he had provided me, I departed from the Seriba.

My first destination was the settlement of one of the companies
associated with Kurshook Ali, which was situated on the Beery, about
twenty miles from Dehm Nduggo. The route for the most part was in a
south-westerly direction, over elevated ground that was channeled by no
less than ten running streams and khor beds, and along country that was
splendidly adorned with goodly forests. The defiles extended from the
south-east to the north-west, and stretched away towards the valley of
the Beery, which ran parallel to our course at a few miles’ distance to
the right.

The first irregularity in the soil which crossed our way consisted
of a deep river-course, which was now quite dry and shaded over by
thick foliage; the second was made by the stream of the Uyeely, which,
flowing out from a narrow streak of thicket that corresponded very much
in its vegetation with the galleries of the Niam-niam, with deliberate
current passed onwards to the west. Midway between the Uyeely and the
next stream, called the Uyissobba (the native word for “a buffalo”),
which consisted of a series of pools that ranged themselves in a
continuous series along an open swamp-steppe, there stood a grove of
tall trees. I was much surprised to find the frequent occurrence of
the same species of Cycadea which I had observed in the Niam-niam
lands, but which here, through the absence of any underwood, made a
majestic upward growth, and expanded their noble fans at the summit of
a stately stem. The Kredy Nduggo call the encephalartus “kotto,” and
my attendants acquainted me with the fact that they could manufacture
a sort of beer out of the central portion of the stem, which was
marrowy and full of meal. Some of the specimens that I saw had great
cylindrical stems two feet high, a contrast very decided to those that
I had previously seen, which were all quite low upon the ground. The
male flowering heads were often as many as eight or ten upon a single
stem. In the shadowy light admitted by the tall Humboldtiæ that towered
above, their stiff crowns had all the appearance of being alien to the
scene and a decoration imported from some foreign soil.

[Illustration: Kredy hut.]

[Sidenote: KREDY HUTS.]

After crossing a rippling brook we came to a village belonging to the
Kredy chief, Ganyong, on Seebehr’s territory. The fishing-nets, forty
feet long and eight feet broad, with their great meshes and floating
rims made of the stalks of the borassus, bore ample testimony, as they
hung outside the huts, to the productiveness of the Beery. Nets so
large as these I had never seen in the country, except among the tribes
that people the banks of the Dyoor.

The style of building amongst the Kredy appeared to me extremely
slovenly and inartistic. Most of the huts were entirely wanting
in substructure, and consisted merely of a conical roof of grass
raised upon a framework of hoops. They recalled to my mind the huts
of the Kaffirs. Ganyong had some corn-magazines of a very remarkable
construction. They were made very much upon the principle of the
“gollotoh” of the Bongo, having a kind of basket supported on posts and
covered with a large conical lid; but underneath the main receptacle
and between the posts there was a space left large enough for four
female slaves to do all the necessary work for converting the corn into
meal. A deep trench was cut, and, being firmly cemented over with clay,
formed a common reservoir into which the corn fell after it had passed
from the murhagas or grindstones. The stones were arranged so as to
form a cross. The women who were employed sang merrily as they worked,
and in the course of a day the quantity of corn they ground was very
considerable.

[Illustration: Interior of Kredy hut.]

At the next hollow, which appeared to have been a marsh that was
now dry, was a kind of defile rather thickly sprinkled over with
huts, where we found the native women busily engaged in gathering
the Lophira-nuts that they call “kozo,” and use for making oil. The
succeeding brook was named the Uyuttoo, and was lined on either side by
avenues of trees; it was not much more than a trench, but it was full
of water. Farther on, right in the heart of the wood, we made a passage
over a khor, and having for a while mistaken our way, we made a halt
at a rivulet that was but eight feet wide, but abundantly supplied
with running water. It was already quite dusk, and we were obliged to
abandon all hope of getting as far as the Seriba that day. I sent my
bearers, therefore, to make the best investigation they could of the
surrounding country, and to find out some settlement where we could
encamp for the night, as it appeared to be quite impossible for us to
bivouac with any degree of comfort in the midst of the still vigorous
growth of grass. During the Khareef these thickets must be absolutely
impenetrable.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER BEERY.]

Just in time a village belonging to Kurshook Ali was discovered, and,
after making a circuitous route to the south-east, we fixed upon a
convenient resting-place for the night. Next morning we proceeded
down to the river over very irregular ground, up hill and down hill
and repeatedly broken by deep fissures. The dimensions of the Beery
in this district were anything but important: it flowed towards the
west, making a good many bends and curves, and after a while turning
short off to the north. At this date it extended over about two-thirds
of the width of its channel, the depth of the stream varying from one
to two feet, and the water flowing at the rate of about one hundred
feet a minute. The banks were about eight feet high, and were crowned
on either hand by trees that, rising some fifty feet, threw out their
boughs and overhung the stream to a considerable distance with a leafy
canopy. I found a place in the most shadowed portion of the wood where
the river had formed a deep basin, and I took a bath, which I found
something more than refreshing, and with the temperature at 68° Fahr. I
was obliged to take a good run to get warm again.

A mile to the south of the river there was an extensive tract of land
covered by farmsteads, merely separated from each other by hedges, and
inhabited principally by some Gellahbas who had settled there and by
some of the black soldiers. Just beyond these, in a deep depression,
the rivulet of the Rende made its way towards the north-west. Facing
the settlement and towards the south, the valley sank very low, whilst
towards the west and south-west, the country rose considerably in
prominent wall-like ridges.

The controller of the place was named Mangoor, but he was unwell and
out of temper, and consequently had no hospitality to show me, and
allowed me and my people to start next day with empty stomachs and
without any contribution of supplies. Nor was much to be got out of
the native local overseer, Gassigombo, who had the supervision of such
of the Kredy tribe of the Jongbongo who had settled there; the country
was so impoverished that he had neither goats nor poultry to part with.
An Egyptian, who was the representative of the sick controller, was
really the person responsible for this ungracious reception, which
was by far the worst of all that I ever experienced at any of the
Khartoomers’ settlements. Between Nubians and Egyptians there goes on a
continual jarring, and their mutual animosity is extremely bitter. The
Nubians call the genuine Egyptians by the name of “Wollad-er-Reef,” the
designation being given to them in distinction to the other residents
on the Nile, although its real meaning is simply a Nile-dweller; the
word “Reef,” in fact, is the name of the Nile throughout its course in
Egypt.

The icy stolidness of my angry servants and the crabby resentment of
the Egyptian, whom they had somehow managed to offend, gave me a vast
fund of amusement in spite of my melancholy plight. On the following
morning I found myself thoroughly unwell, and so weak that I hardly
knew how I should hold out during the next stage of our progress to
the next Dehm. I had now double cause to regret the loss of all my
stock of tea, for although I tried to compensate for the want of it
by taking an extra quantity of coffee, it did me but little good, and
was comparatively useless in bracing up my nervous system. I made it,
however, as strong as I could, and took it with me to sustain my
flagging energies and keep up my elasticity as I went along.

[Sidenote: THROUGH WOODS AND OVER BROOKS.]

The Dehm Gudyoo, to which I was directing my steps, was about
twenty-two miles distant, and was one of the chief establishments of
the slave-traders who had settled in the country. There were no less
than ten brooks to be crossed, of some of which the channels were
partially dried up; every one of them without exception flowed from
west to east towards the Beery, which lay from this point onwards
upon our left hand, apparently following a southerly direction. The
altitude above the sea, which hitherto upon the route from Dehm Nduggo
had been tolerably uniform, began to increase considerably. The region
was less thickly covered with trees, but light brushwood took their
place, whilst the monotony of the steppes was broken by dwindling
watercourses. These seemed to flow from north to south, and were
described to me under the following names: the first was the Rende, and
had a tolerably strong current; the next was the Buloo, flowing along
in a deep rift between walls of red rock; then came the Zembey, a mere
meadow-brook; to this succeeded the Kungbai, flowing in its channel
along the open steppe; next in order was the Ramadda, a swamp-khor,
that had but little current, on the banks of which a number of little
springs were constantly yielding their fresh supply.

After this, the way began to ascend, blocks of hornblend and schist
occurring every now and then to vary the uniformity of the general
configuration of the soil. As we again descended we came to another
series of brooks. The first was named the Biduleh, and ran rapidly
along, its banks being clearly indicated by rows of Raphia-palms; the
next was of similar character, called the Gatwee, its borders again
lined by the Raphia: then came the Gobo, a much smaller stream that
murmured along its red granite channel; and then the Kadditch, shut in
by a kind of gallery vegetation. The last of the series, by which we
passed the night, was a stream fifteen feet wide with a rapid current,
the water of which was up to our knees; it was the Gresse, a feeder of
the Beery, and here it had an aspect that very much resembled the Beery
as we observed it at the unfriendly Dehm. It was now full 30 feet wide,
and made its way amongst blocks and over flats of gneiss between lofty
banks that slanted down abruptly to the stream. The declivity, amidst
the openings of the thickets, revealed the red rock of the swamp-ore in
many places, whilst down below, the flats of the gneiss were everywhere
apparent.

From the Gresse we had still eight miles to march along very rising
ground before we reached Dehm Gudyoo. As well as being one of the
oldest halting-places of the slave-dealers of Dar Ferteet, and in
number of huts quite equal to Dehm Nduggo, this town contained a Seriba
of Agahd’s company, and served as the headquarters of a division of
Khartoom soldiers, who made annual expeditions to the territory of
the Niam-niam king Mofio, in the west. Gudyoo himself, formerly a
Kredy chief and a great patron of the slave-dealers, had now settled
down to the east on the banks of the Beery as an ordinary sheikh of
Agahd’s possessions. Dehm Gudyoo formed the most westerly and, with
the exception of Mount Baginze, the highest point that I visited in
all my travels in Central Africa. The altitude of the Dehm was about
2775 feet, and not much less than 500 feet higher than Dehm Nduggo.
From various indications in the character of the soil I seemed to have
no alternative than to conclude that these elevations continue to rise
still more decidedly beyond Dehm Gudyoo, and that most probably a
considerable watershed would be found in the region in that direction.

The character of the vegetation reminded me in more than one respect
of the flora of the Niam-niam lands. Dehm Gudyoo stretches itself
out on the northern declivity of a valley, and consists of huts and
farmsteads, which, rising one above another in a kind of amphitheatre,
gave an imposing aspect to the scene. Probably the number of huts
exceeded 2000. From a spring close to the lowest tier of houses issued
a considerable brook, named the Kobbokoio, which was shadowed over
with tall trees and thick bushwood that gave the borders very much the
appearance of the Niam-niam galleries. In the farther environs of this
Dehm there were a good many instances of plants that were very nearly
allied to those of the Niam-niam, and the dualism which characterised
the vegetation was very marked, and ever and again recalled what I had
observed before. On the higher parts of the hill-slopes I found the
_Albizzia anthelmintica_ in considerable quantities, the bark of which
is the most effectual remedy that the Abyssinians are acquainted with
for the tapeworm.

[Sidenote: SCORBUTIC ATTACK.]

Although I had cause to congratulate myself upon the hospitable
reception that I found at Agahd’s Seriba, and appreciated the
hospitality that was extended to me, my condition altogether was so
wretched that I might almost as well have been left in the wilderness.
A kind of scorbutic affection, that had for some little time been
lurking in my system, probably in consequence of my having been
deprived for so many months of proper vegetable diet, now broke out
with some violence, my gums becoming so sore and the whole inside of
my mouth so inflamed that I could not take anything but water without
experiencing the greatest pain. The restricted supply of provisions in
the place naturally aggravated my condition. As it happily fell out,
Faki Ismael, the superintendent of the establishment, made me a present
of some sweet potatoes, which he had just received from Dar Benda:
at this season they were very scarce, but they were very acceptable,
and were the only food of which I could venture to partake. In spite
of my ailments, however, I did not suffer my three days’ residence in
Dehm Gudyoo to pass away without employing them as profitably as I
could: I made a collection of words in the Kredy dialect, and carefully
inspected all the most interesting plants in the district.

Large quantities of the Ashantee pepper are found on the Kobbokoio, and
just at this season the stem of the trees were so beautifully decorated
with its red clusters that they gleamed from amongst the thickets
almost as brightly as a flame of fire. The Kredy might in this place
alone, without any difficulty, gather hundredweights of this pepper,
which amongst them bears the name of Dehre. The Nubians who had taken
up their quarters here had not the least idea of the useful properties
of the plant, and it had never occurred to them that the red berries,
after they were dried, would become black pepper-corns. My disclosure
seemed to give them the greatest delight, and without delay they set
to work to gather the pepper, which they designed to be sent off to
Khartoom, a novelty in the way of their commerce. In the bank-woods I
found some muscat-nuts which, in the previous year, I had not found on
the Assika until the month of March. The straight growth of its stout
stem never failed to attract attention.

At Dehm Gudyoo I learnt a great many details about the aspect of
the land still farther west that had been traversed by the various
companies of Agahd, Bizelly, Idrees Wod Defter, and Seebehr Adlan. When
we took our departure I found that our road had a decline. In order to
reach the Bongo territory again I proposed to proceed in a kind of arc
towards the south-east down to the Dehm Bekeer, where the extensive
establishments of the Gellahbas, stretching away for miles, were
collected, and where Kurshook Ali was in possession of one of the most
important strongholds which he had inherited from his father-in-law. In
a straight line the distance between Dehm Gudyoo and Dehm Bekeer would
not exceed five-and-thirty miles, but our deviations were so frequent
and so long that it took us two days of exceedingly hard marching to
reach our destination. The entire district, a thoroughly unbroken
wilderness, was the true source-land of the Beery and the Kooroo,
both of these rivers at the points where we crossed them being in the
incipient condition of mere brooks; nor did they seem to surpass the
other streamlets, thirteen in number, which we had to cross, in their
supply of water.

[Sidenote: A SERIES OF STREAMS.]

The universal direction which the streams took was from south to
north. Reckoning them in their order after leaving Dehm Gudyoo, the
first was the Domwee, quite a little channel filled with a flowing
current: after a considerable rise in the land, we came to the Ghessy
Beery (_i.e._, the Little or Upper Beery), with its broad water almost
stagnant and shadowed over by an extensive gallery-wood; then came
a dried-up channel at the bottom of a broad and outspread valley,
of which the western slopes were marked by crests of hills some 400
or 500 feet in height; to this succeeded an uphill march, which led
to a soil so elevated that it opened an ample prospect into the far
distant east, embracing at least the chief landmarks for some eighty
miles round; next succeeded a brook called the Yagpak, of which the
waters, still deep, were hemmed in by thick shrubberies; next came
a little watercourse with languid stream; and then a rivulet twenty
feet wide, full of water, and named the Gulanda, where we spent the
night, the direction of which was indicated by the bushes on the
banks. The level of the soil was here about 400 feet lower than it
had been at Dehm Gudyoo. Farther on, close following upon each other,
came two dried-up khors; after which the land once more began to rise
again in alternate flats of gneiss and lofty eminences of swamp-ore,
hills named Bakeffa and Yaffa lifting themselves up conspicuously on
the east; next we reached a small dried-up course that intersected a
valley made up of gneiss flats, bounded on the west by the elevation
of a hill, called the Fee-ee; then, at about equal distances one from
another, were crossed four khors, now dry, that gave an undulated
character to the ground; proceeding onwards we came to the half-dry,
half-swampy depression known as the Ohro; and last of all we arrived
at an inconsiderable water-channel of which the stream was deep, but
apparently stationary, and was described by the Kredy as being the
upper course of the Kooroo, distinguished here by the name of the Mony.

The district over which we thus had travelled very much resembled the
northern regions of the Kredy lands in its wooded character and in the
absence of meadow-lands and steppes; only it was utterly wanting in
that distinctive abundance of springs which is so marked in latitudes
below lat. 8° N. The deficiency of water, in comparison to what we
had before experienced, made itself very obvious. The flora offered
some few novelties; in particular I was surprised at the cabbage-like
Euphorbia (_Tithymalus_), which, though common in our zone, is quite a
rarity in Tropical Africa.

In the dried-up watercourses I frequently saw one of the rodentia which
had hitherto been little known to me: this was the reed-rat, called by
the Foorians the “Far-el-boos.” I had the good fortune to bring down
three of them, and, after having been limited for three days to a diet
of soaked sweet potatoes, I very much appreciated a meal from their
delicate and tender flesh.

Never shall I forget the hospitable reception which Yumma, Kurshook
Ali’s Vokeel, showed me at this Seriba, nor the circumstances under
which it transpired. My gratitude was all the more keen because the
discourtesy and inhospitality which I had experienced from Mangoor
were still fresh upon my memory. I was really worn-out by the fatigue
of marching, and very much debilitated by my compulsory abstinence
in consequence of my scorbutic attack, when in the early evening we
reached the Dehm. We wandered about for a considerable time amongst
the scattered homesteads, and had some difficulty in discovering the
palings of the Seriba. After we succeeded in getting inside, we found
all the huts perfectly quiet, and it appeared almost as if invisible
hands had prepared the coffee which was handed me as soon as I had
taken my seat upon the “angareb” in the reception-hall. The ruler
of the Seriba happened that evening to be absent somewhere in the
environs, and it was not known for certain whether he would return that
night. Feeling that it was quite a matter of speculation what kind of
entertainment I should have on the following day, I threw myself down
without taking any supper, and composed myself for my night’s rest.

[Sidenote: A TRAVELLER’S DREAMS.]

Whoever has wandered as a lonely traveller in the untrodden solitudes
of a desert likes to tell his dreams: in them the true situation of a
man often mirrors itself; for, unrestrained by any control of reason,
images arise from the obscurity of the past, so that, at times, it
seems as if a painful vividness was being stamped upon recollections,
which, as reproduced, are really very contradictory to the actual
facts. It happened to me very much in this way at Dehm Bekeer, only I
had the compensation that the visions that I saw were not disproved,
but confirmed, by my experience.

Weary and worn-but as I was, and no longer master of my faculties,
I seem very soon to have fallen asleep. Memory, unshackled from the
guardianship of reality, began to revel in the ideal delights of a
material world. I fancied that I was in a spacious tent that was
glittering with the radiancy of countless lamps, that the tables were
groaning under the most tempting viands, and that troops of servants
in gorgeous livery were in attendance upon the guests, to whom they
brought the mellowest and rarest of wines. And then it was race-time
at Cairo, and the entertainment was sumptuous with all the splendour
of the fairest imagery of ‘The Arabian Nights,’ the host no less than
the Governor of Egypt himself. And then I seemed all at once to wake,
and was quite bewildered in trying to decide whether I was in the
smoke-clouds that envelop the interior of an African grass-hut or
whether in truth I was reclining under the shelter of a royal marquee.
My frame of mind enhanced the force of my fancy: but soon the delusion
took a more distinct phase, and I seemed to divine that there was
really about me a group of well-dressed servants, and that whilst some
were bringing in various dishes and sparkling goblets which they placed
beside my lowly couch, others were running about with tapers and lamps,
and others with embroidered napkins under their arms were conveying the
choicest dainties in lordly dishes or offering lemonade and sherbet
from the brightest crystal. I rubbed my eyes. I took a draught of what
was offered me. I surveyed the scene deliberately, and came to the
surprised conviction that what I had been dreaming was a reality!

Yumma, the controller of the Seriba, had returned home late in the
evening. No sooner was he informed of my arrival than he had had all
his retinue of cooks aroused from their night’s rest to give me an
entertainment worthy of his rank. He was more than half a Turk, and
acquainted far beyond the other superintendents of the Seribas with
the elegancies and comforts of a Khartoomer’s household. Everything
he possessed in the way of valuable vases or tasteful table ornaments
was brought out and exhibited in my honour. He set before me bread
of pure white flour, maccaroni, rice, chickens served with tomatoes,
and innumerable other delicacies which I could hardly have supposed
had ever found their way to this distant land. It was quite midnight
before the preparations for the impromptu banquet were complete, and
then, whether I wanted or not, I was bound to partake. My tortures
were the tortures of Tantalus; however eagerly I might covet the food,
the inflammation in my gums put an emphatic veto upon my enjoyment,
and it was only with the acutest suffering that I could get a morsel
of meat or a drop of fluid between my lips. As soon, however, as
I was somewhat better, the improved diet told favourably upon my
constitution, and after a few days I was ready to start afresh upon my
travels with renovated energy and recruited strength.

[Sidenote: A LINE OF HILLS.]

The environs of the Dehm are inhabited partly by the Golo and partly
by the Sehre. Amongst the natives the town itself is known by the name
of Dehm Dooroo, called so after a deceased chieftain of the Golo.
The present native overseer of the Golo population is called Mashi
Doko. To the south and south-west of the town, the ground gradually
rises, and in the main might be called hilly in all directions, as
right away to the horizon there are continued series of hill-crests
and ridges. Above the general undulation of the land these rise
high enough to form conspicuous landmarks, and afford the wayfarer
considerable assistance in the direction of his journey; many of them
present an appearance that is quite analogous to that of the hill-caps
which have been mentioned as characteristic of southern Bongoland;
generally they consist of bright masses of gneiss. The shape of these
hills is defined in the Arabic of the Soudan as “Gala;” the Bongo
call it “Kilebee.” They are quite isolated, and are always rounded
elevations of grey gneiss projecting, sometimes like flat plateaux and
sometimes like raised eminences, from the swamp-ore around, and they
give the landscape the aspect so characteristic of Central Africa.
They may readily be supposed to be associated in character with those
gneiss flats which are scattered all over the land in every variety
of shape and size, and any one must involuntarily become subject to
the impression that they indicate a spot where in bygone ages there
were the summits of mountains that have long since been worn down by
the tooth of time, and that these elevations were the ridges that had
separated the channels of the very rivers that I had discovered, which
by various agencies, chemical and mechanical, were now conspiring
to carry off the _débris_ of the mountain mass and convey it to
the distant ocean. All along the way there were the most striking
evidences of how, in the operations of nature, it had been brought
about that every valley should be exalted and every mountain and hill
made low. The problem over which antagonists may wrangle and refuse to
be reconciled has been successfully solved by Nature, whose function
has ever been to establish a balance between opposites ever since the
days of her own early youth, before as yet a living creature existed
to give animation to the scenes of earth. As instances to illustrate
the certainty of these earlier chains of mountains, I may mention the
following, which the reader will easily trace upon the map: The Taya,
between the Beery and the Kooroo; the Bakeffa, the Kosanga, and the
Ida, between the Kooroo and the Pongo; and the Kokkuloo, the Yaffa, and
the Atyumen, between the Pongo and the Wow.

On leaving Dehm Bekeer, a mile south from the Seriba, we reached a
small stream called the Ngudduroo, and on the farther side of it, after
traversing a hilly tract for about two miles, we came to another stream
which in winter could only boast of a very weak current, although even
then the breadth of its bed was fifteen feet, thoroughly covered with
water. The banks were about eight or ten feet in height, and stood out
dry above the stream. Yumma, who accompanied me, declared that it was
the upper course of the river of Damoory and Dembo, consequently that
it was the Pongo, and he affirmed that, in his frequent marches along
its banks, he had distinctly followed it right into that district. Both
the Golo and the Sehre throughout the environs called it the Djee, and
as I proceeded along my way I derived fresh confirmation for Yumma’s
statement about the river from the circumstance that it is also called
the Djee by those Sehre who reside on the farther side, at Dehm Adlan.
All along my route back, moreover, towards the east, I did not come
across any river large or small which could possibly be identified as
the upper portion of what is the Pongo at Damoory.

[Sidenote: MOFIO AND SOLONGOH.]

Some four or five leagues to the north-west of Dehm Bekeer there is
stationed one of Kurshook Ali’s subsidiary Seribas. The natives of the
district are Golo, and the Seriba has been established upon the banks
of the Hahoo, a little stream that subsequently joins the Kooroo. Two
leagues to the south-west of the Dehm rises a hill, steep in every
aspect, it is designated the Kokkuloo, and commands a wide view of the
country around. I found a number of intelligent people in this locality
whose information about the neighbouring Niam-niam was of considerable
service to me in ascertaining various facts, and by comparing and
combining their separate accounts I was able to gain a fairly accurate
idea of the country. The particulars that I gathered were for the most
part appertaining to the territories of the two Niam-niam chieftains
Mofio and Solongoh. Mofio’s residence was described as being situated
to the W.N.W. of our present position, and that, in consequence of the
number of streams that had to be crossed and the deserts that had to be
traversed, it could not be reached in less than twelve days, even if
the march were urged on with all possible speed, whilst at an ordinary
pace it would take fifteen days at least; there was, however, a way
from Dehm Nduggo which was less circuitous, and did not offer the same
difficulties in furnishing the bearers with supplies: this could be
accomplished in about eight days. The home of Solongoh, who was a son
of Bongohrongboh, was not distant more than a five days’ march to the
S.S.E., and only separated from the domain of Kurshook Ali in the lands
of the Golo and Sehre by one of the desolate frontier wildernesses.
There was a third independent Niam-niam chief, whose territory,
however, was of insignificant extent. He was called indifferently
Yapaty or Yaffaty, and was the son of Mofio’s brother Zaboora: he had
his mbanga three days’ journey to the south-west of Dehm Bekeer.

At the period of my visit Yumma was on terms of open enmity with
Solongoh, his territory being constantly threatened by that powerful
prince, whose sway extended as far as the Bellandah, who are bordering
upon the land of Aboo Shatter. Just before this, in fact only a few
days previously to my arrival, Solongoh had been repulsed in an attack
which he had made, although he had summoned his full force and had
advanced within a couple of days’ march of Dehm Bekeer. As Yumma
foresaw that another engagement was imminent, he would not permit me
to remain any longer in his Seriba, because he saw he could not be
responsible for the issue, and it was in vain that I begged him not to
have any apprehension on my account. But the audacity of the Niam-niam
was so gross that it was intolerable, and must be suppressed at all
hazards. To such a pitch had this shameless daring grown that even the
arms of the soldiers had been stolen by people sent by Solongoh into
Dehm Bekeer for the purpose. Under cover of night they had contrived to
get into the Seriba, and had managed to purloin several guns whilst the
unsuspecting owners were sound asleep.

My researches in Dehm Gudyoo enabled me to gather certain information
which is of some consequence as affecting the proper hydrographical
delineation of the countries through which I was travelling. Six days’
journey south-west by west from the spot at which we were sojourning
stood a Seriba, which was Idrees Wod Defter’s principal repository
of arms and ammunition; it was situated, as I was informed, upon the
banks of a river that flowed to the north-east, and afterwards joined
another river that was so much larger that the passage over it could at
all seasons only be effected in boats. To this river the Khartoomers
give the name of Bahr Aboo Dinga; it is said to be about two and a half
days’ journey beyond Dar Benda, where Idrees maintains another Seriba.
It is a river that is likewise well known to the company of Seebehr
Rahama, which makes a yearly visit to the country that is inhabited by
the Aboo Dinga, a distinct negro people, quite different alike to the
Kredy and to the Niam-niam. The direction of the stream Aboo Dinga was
reported to be E.N.E. or due east, and all the statements concurred in
making it identical with the Bahr-el-Arab, which intersects the country
of the Baggara-el-Homr.

[Sidenote: THE BAHR ABOO DINGA.]

No one seemed able to decide the question where the Bahr Aboo Dinga
came from. I suspect its source is somewhere amongst the mountains of
Runga, to the south of Wadai, a spot of which various travellers have
given such reports as they have been able to gather. Barth,[76] in the
itinerary which he gives of his eastward route from Massena in Baghirmy
to Runga, makes an entry which may contribute something in the way of
elucidating the question. He says that he came “on the forty-second
day (_i.e._ one day’s journey to the south of the residence of the
prince of Runga) to Dar Sheela,[77] a mountainous district with a
river flowing to the east, beyond which lies Dar Dinga.” No one is
more conscious than I am myself how little stress is to be laid upon
a mere resemblance in the sound of names. Hundreds of times, and in
every diversity of place, I have found that any conjecture based upon
the apparent similarity is utterly worthless; but in this case the
resemblance was not a chance coincidence, for the assigned bearings
and distances (as reckoned from the two starting-points of Barth and
myself) so thoroughly correspond as to suggest the sense of a mutual
agreement between the scenes that we explored; it seems also very
probable that Barth’s river Kubanda is identical with my river Welle.

Various reasons, into which it is unnecessary to enter with more
minuteness here, might be alleged to show that it is in the highest
degree probable that the river in question is likewise identical with
a river which is affirmed by the two entirely independent witnesses,
Teïma[78] and Fresnel,[79] to exist in this district, and to which the
name of Bahr-el-Ezuhm, or Azzoum, is assigned.

Although these statements are only given in their main and essential
features, and not in detail, they will suffice to cast some degree of
clearness upon the source of the Bahr-el-Arab, that river which appears
hitherto to have been very much underrated in all the maps of the
country. The evidence which demonstrates that the river is entitled to
the rank of primogeniture amongst all the tributaries of the Gazelle
system, has already been collected in a previous page. We have only
to take account of the extraordinary length, as may be gathered from
the foregoing data, to which the Bahr-el-Arab extends, and we shall be
at once bound to concede that in all discussions connected with that
endless question of the sources of the Nile, the Bahr-el-Arab takes at
least an equal rank with the Bahr-el-Gebel.

Leaving the Djee at some little distance to our right, we continued
our return journey to the Wow and the Dyoor, starting in a N.N.E.
direction, and persevering for twenty-five miles until we reached
Dehm Adlan, just as it had been described to me by the same reliable
authorities to whom I was indebted for such detailed particulars about
the districts of Mofio and Solongoh. Nearly throughout the march the
country was quite destitute of inhabitants, and we crossed eleven
little streams all running from west to east and flowing into the Djee.
We had first to cross a half-dry khor, surrounded on all sides by open
steppes, and then proceeded to the farms of the Sehre sheik, Bereeah,
which were situated just beyond a considerable brook, of which the
water was nearly at a standstill, and which bore the name of Langeh.

[Sidenote: THROUGH WOODS AND OVER BROOKS.]

Our pathway now led us through bushwoods and over soil that was
generally rocky, till after accomplishing about two leagues we came in
sight of Bakeffa, a hill of which I had previously taken the bearings;
it reared itself so much above the flat table-land that it could be
seen from afar. All round the west, far as the horizon embraced the
view, the whole country was apparently one elevated plateau. For
a long time we had a river named the Gumende on our left, and at
intervals passed through the galleries of forest-wood that enclosed
its banks; after a while we had to cross the stream at a spot where
it was thirty feet wide and ten feet in depth. As surveyed from this
place, the horizon upon the north-east was shut out by the rising of
some steepish ground. The next brook that we reached was named the
Nyusseta; its water was nearly stationary, and beyond it were still
standing the dejected ruins of a previous Seriba of Bizelly’s. Having
traversed a rocky tract broken by repeated bushwoods, we next arrived
at the large brook Gopwee, of which the channel was deep, but the
waters nearly still, its banks being shrouded with very thick foliage.
Then we reached the Dibanga, of which we found that the bed was of
considerable depth; but at this season it was divided into a number
of separate pools. Farther on we passed a gallery-brook, in which the
water had no movement, and finally we came to a much larger stream, of
which the surface of the water was ten feet in breadth, the height of
the woody banks which shut in the channel varying from twenty-five feet
in some places to forty in others. Its name was the Ndopah. The woods,
which almost completely overshadowed it, were composed in a large
measure of great sterculiæ, which the Niam-niam call kokkorukkoo, and
to which I have already called attention as being so conspicuous in the
gallery-forests of the south.

Upon the banks of a little stream, by the sides of which the trees were
arranged as it were in avenues, and where a kind of glen was formed
amongst them, we came to an establishment of slave-dealers, who, in
company with some elephant-hunters from Darfoor, had taken up their
quarters at the place which the Khartoomers simply designate by the
name of Bet-el-Gellahba, or “the abode of the slave-dealers.” As we
were unable to reach the Dehm to which our steps were bent, we were
compelled to take up our quarters here for the night.

On the following morning, which was the 5th of February, I was
very much surprised at the singularly clouded aspect of the sky.
After a long interval the night had been warm, the atmosphere being
oppressively close, an indication that, just as might be anticipated at
the beginning of February, a change of weather was impending, and there
was about to ensue a transition from the coolness of winter to the heat
of summer without any interruption in the dryness of the air.

Before we arrived at the Dehm of Seebehr Adlan, who was a Seriba owner
associated with Agahd’s company, we had to journey over lands that
were under vigorous cultivation and to pass by numerous farmsteads
of the Sehre. On our way it was necessary to cross two considerable
brooks that flowed in the hollow of some deep depressions, and were
closely shut in by lofty trees. Beyond the second of these, which was
called Ngokkoo, on the steep side of a valley slope, lay the aforesaid
Seriba, in the immediate environs of which were clustered many groups
of Gellahbas’ farmsteads, numerous enough to constitute a Dehm, which,
however, was far smaller than any that we had previously visited. The
resident dealers in slaves were partly Foorians and partly Baggara,
and had an interest in the ivory traffic as well as in their living
merchandise. They conducted their business in the regular Bedouin
fashion, with sword and lance, disposing of their spoil at the nearest
Seribas, where their activity was much appreciated. The Baggara, who
come into the country in the train of the slave-dealers (whether for
the purpose of tending the oxen which are wanted as beasts of burden or
of superintending the transport of the slaves), are all of the tribe of
the Rizegat, the Homr being the most irreconcilable enemies of all the
Gellahbas, no matter whether these come from Kordofan or Darfoor, or
whether they be natives of Khartoom or other Nubians.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER DJEE.]

At the distance of a mile from the Seriba, towards the east, the Djee
had already expanded into a river some forty feet broad; its bed was
full of water, which, however, did not exceed two feet in depth; it
flowed deliberately towards the north, between lofty walls of swamp-ore
and over moss-grown clumps of gneiss that half obstructed its flow
along its bed. The embankments on either side seemed to be equally
inclined to the base of the valley, which they overtopped by an
altitude of nearly 600 feet; so prolonged was the depression, spreading
outwards for several miles, that the aspect of the locality was quite
remarkable. The affluents of the river joined the main-stream by gorges
in the soil, which sank perpendicularly to the bottom; and the land had
the singular appearance of having been regularly parcelled out into
distinct allotments.

The contented little community of the Sehre had established itself in
well-packed quarters, which were ranged for some distance around the
Seriba. The prospect all around was very diversified, the landscape
presenting pleasing alternations of light and shade, the dense woods
being relieved by the recurrence of the culture-lands and homesteads of
the natives.

In general appearance the Sehre may be said to bear a striking
resemblance to the Niam-niam, except that they are not tattooed.
Originally they were a tribe of slaves subject to the Niam-niam
chieftains, but recently they have migrated farther north, very
probably encouraged to that movement by the depopulation of the land
in consequence of the large and perpetual capture of the people
for slaves. However, many of the Sehre still remain subject to the
dominion of the Niam-niam prince, Solongoh. The prolonged intercourse
that has existed between the two people has done a great deal towards
obliterating the nationality and peculiar customs of the Sehre and to
assimilate them to the Niam-niam; but to a large extent they retain
their own dialect, which, as might be expected, has many points of
resemblance with the Zandey. Many of the Sehre are quite accustomed to
the Zandey tongue and speak it fluently. The long hair is precisely
like what is found among the Niam-niam, and the mode of arranging it
in tufts and twists is identical. Their complexion is a dark chocolate
colour.

The Sehre are a robust and well-built race, and in this respect
they more resemble the Golo and the Bongo. Their ethnographical
independence, however, does not admit of a question. Their huts attest
the interest which their owners take in them, and the amount of care
that is bestowed upon the management of their households is larger than
what is anywhere to be observed amongst the Golo, not to mention those
of the poor degenerate Kredy. The peculiar huts appropriated to boys,
which I have mentioned as being adopted by the Niam-niam and called
“bamogee,” are found here, and are always built in a style that is most
symmetrical. But their most remarkable structures are their corn-bins,
which are of a shape that I never saw elsewhere. They are made in the
form of a drinking goblet, and are nearly always artistically decorated
with mouldings and with a series of rings almost as perfect as though
they had been produced with the aid of a lathe. They are always built
on a pedestal, which must be climbed in order to push aside the
projecting lid.

Among the Sehre I never saw either goats or dogs, and, as far as I
could judge, their residences had no other live-stock about them but a
few cocks and hens.

[Sidenote: THE SEHRE.]

There is nothing very remarkable about the arms of the Sehre;
their lances resemble those of the Bongo, and are very rare and
quaint-looking weapons. The bows and arrows are considerably smaller
than those of the Bongo, the arrows in particular being of that short
and stumpy make that I had noticed amongst the Bellanda.

The women’s attire consists of bunches of grass or leaves, fastened
to their girdle before and behind, and very like what is worn by the
Bongo; it is also generally adopted by the women of the Golo and Kredy.
There is the same partiality for inserting bits of straw in the sides
of the nostrils that is so common amongst the Bongo women, but the
example here is to a certain extent followed even by the men. Many
of the women have the circular plate let into their upper lip like
the Mittoo women. At the Dehm Adlan I observed several women who had
an appendage hanging from the lower lip in the shape of a piece of
lead several inches long. The teeth, both of men and women, are left
unmutilated, the only disfigurement being that an artificial separation
is made between the two central incisors. According to the ordinary
fashion of Central Africa, infants at the breast are carried in a
girth, similar to a saddle-girth, worn over the shoulders just in the
same way as amongst the Monbuttoo women.

Hunting in the neighbouring wildernesses, which cannot extend much
less than twenty miles in every direction, and which appear to be
entirely void of inhabitants, must be a very productive pursuit. In
all my travels I never came across such numerous and abundant hunting
trophies as here amongst the homesteads of the Sehre; they were
contrived out of branches of trees resting one against another and
self-supported like the guns of soldiers in camp, and were crowded
with the skulls and horns of animals that the natives had secured.
Hundreds of buffalo-horns, including a surprising number of those of
the females, were attached to the structures which stood in front of
well-nigh every hut, and were as numerous as though hunter vied with
hunter in his separate display. Every variety of horn was represented:
intermingled with the buffalo-horns were those of the eland-antelope,
the water-bock, the hartebeest, and the bastard-gemsbock, whilst skulls
of wart-hogs, and occasionally even skulls of lions, were not wanting
to help adorn the trophy.

The proprietor of the Seriba happened to be absent on an excursion to
the western districts of the Niam-niam, but his Vokeel did his utmost
to provide me with a hospitable reception; and taking into account the
impoverishment of the land and the general deficiency of provisions
that prevailed, I am bound to award him my best thanks for his courtesy
and attention.

Beyond the Kooroo, and just half-way between Dehm Adlan and Dehm
Gudyoo, there stands a hill of considerable altitude, named Taya. The
whole distance required two days’ hard marching to get over, the road
being straight through uninterrupted wilderness until it reached the
farmsteads of the Kredy sheikh, Gudyoo, on the banks of the Beery.

Shortly after midnight on the 8th of February there came on such
a violent storm that I was aroused from my sleep, although I was
sheltered by one of the best protected of the huts. A complete change
of wind ensued, and for the first time this season the south-west wind
set in afresh and for some time maintained its position for the greater
part of the day. The nights in consequence became so much warmer that
any covering for the bed could easily be dispensed with. We tarried
here three days, and then started for another three days’ march on our
return to Bongoland, over a country all but destitute of water, for the
Pongo may be described as a river that separates a district full of
springs from one that is just as barren of them, although the change
in the level of the country comes on so gradually that it can hardly
be said to be observable. In the course of our journey we had to
cross the three running brooks known as the Ngokurah, the Simmere, and
Ngonguli, and to pass by several villages of the Sehre, of which the
sheikhs were respectively called Kombo, Villeke, Badja, and Barraga.
The last huts and the last water were left behind about four miles
after quitting the Pongo, and henceforth water for drinking had to be
sought for with considerable trouble, as all the pools and marshes that
supplied any were only to be found scattered at wide intervals one from
another.

[Illustration: “Karra,” the magic tuber.]

[Sidenote: KARRA, THE MAGIC TUBER.]

We spent our first night close to the farms of Barraga, a spot which
seemed especially remarkable for the clusters of trophies, all covered
with the skulls of baboons. Everywhere there seemed to be an extensive
cultivation of cassava, a product of the soil that seems hardly known
at all to the Bongo. Many things that I saw in their cultivation
bore evidence to their comparatively recent migration from the
country of the Niam-niam. Sweet-potatoes were as common as cassava,
and in addition to this were the ricinus, the edible solanum of the
Niam-niam, here called “dyooyo,” and the horse-bean (_Canavalia_),
which here bears the name of “nzerahno.” I also found a very peculiar
creeper, with a double horny or finger-shaped tuber attached to the
axils of the leaves, like the edible helmia, to which genus of plants
it doubtless belongs. It is transplanted by the natives from the
woods and trained in the neighbourhood of the huts, and is known
under the name of “karra.” I had already noticed this plant in the
Kredy villages on the Beery, where I was told that the tubers were
very much used as a purgative medicine; but amongst the Niam-niam,
who likewise occasionally cultivate it, I heard a different account.
There it was said that the tubers are looked upon as a sort of charm,
and it is believed that a good show of them upon the leaves is an
infallible prediction of a prolific hunting season. It was, moreover,
affirmed that if a huntsman wants to render his bow unerring in its
capabilities, he has only to hold it in his hand while he “slaughters”
one of the tubers over it, that is, takes a knife and cuts off the end
and chops it in pieces.

The first tract that we passed in our still eastward return route was
a uniformly thick wood, without any declivity at all in the ground,
or anything to indicate that it was ever broken by a watercourse or
standing pool of rain. About midday we made a halt at a marshy brook
named Kanda, now dry, and set to work to explore the neighbourhood
in the hopes of discovering some water, for, after a march of eleven
miles in the heat, we began to be suffering from thirst. After a long
search my people succeeded in meeting with a puddly slough, from which
the dirty superficies had to be carefully removed in order to get at a
little clear water. It was a disgusting swamp, the haunt of buffaloes
and wild boars, full of excrements and reeking with filth, a compound
of mould and ammonia. It was not until it had been strained through
handkerchiefs and well-boiled that the water was purified of its odious
smell. Only three miles farther on we had the good luck to find the
watercourse of the Telle, overshadowed by thick foliage and running in
a tolerably bright stream: a sufficient inducement to make the spot our
resting-place for the night.

On the third day of our march we again passed several dry khors that
had little pools of water in them, but very inadequate to our needs.
In one of these there was lurking a herd of hartebeests, which by the
greyish fawn-colour of their winter coats had quite an exceptional
appearance. Hundreds of maraboo-storks were congregated around a marshy
pond, where they were fishing for snails and worms.

[Sidenote: NO ROOF OVER-HEAD.]

At dinner we were again obliged to put up with the most abominable and
revolting of water; our stock of provisions was miserably short, and
although I had knocked over a few guinea-fowl, I had neither water in
which to boil them, nor grease in which to fry them. In the afternoon
we were startled by a storm, which, coming up from the north-east,
rolled away towards the south. We endeavoured to get shelter in the
wood beneath the thick foliage of the numerous great Lophira-trees, but
it was all in vain; for, after having waited till daylight was waning,
we were obliged to proceed in the darkness, and, thoroughly drenched to
the skin, marched for a couple of hours till we came to the banks of a
rivulet, where we were again overtaken by the rain.

A tedious, trying night, spent without a roof over my head, seemed to
fill up the cup of bitterness which I was destined to drink upon this
tour of privation. In the darkness no grass could be discovered, and
on account of the dampness of the atmosphere no fire could be kindled,
so that it was entirely without protection from the wet and cold that
I had wearily to await the following morning, when, half-perished
by exposure, in spite of the continued storm, I resumed my way, now
become more arduous than ever, because, as a result of the rain, it had
become exceedingly slippery. The rain of this night had been quite an
exception, and was very transient; it passed away, and the prevalence
of the north wind, during the last three days overpowered by a current
from the south-west, was for a time restored.

Never do I recollect having seen a more cheerful little people than
the Sehre, if I may judge them by those who acted as my bearers. No
mischance, no fatigue, no hunger nor thirst, seemed ever to take the
smallest effect upon the happy temperament of these poor negroes. As
soon as we halted they began their jokes and pranks. There was not a
woe-begone countenance to be seen; groans and sighs were utterly alien
to their disposition, and no sooner was their work over, toilsome as it
was, than they began to play, like a lot of boys fresh out of school.
Sometimes one would pretend to be a wild animal, and was chased by the
others; or sometimes they would contrive and carry out some practical
joke. Nothing seemed to entertain them more than to act the part of a
great clumsy tortoise, and to waddle about on all-fours, accompanying
their movements by all kinds of grunting and clacking noises. And all
this jocoseness went on while their stomachs were empty. “If we are
hungry,” they would say, “we sing, and forget it.”

We proceeded thirteen miles still eastward from the Telle, and then the
wooded country, which had continued in an unbroken succession of thick
trees of every variety all the way from the Pongo, came to an end. It
was succeeded by extensive steppes and marshy lowlands, which every
here and there was relieved by clusters of Terminaliæ. The lowland was
bounded towards the east by a range of hills, the base of which we
reached about four miles farther on. The direction of the elevated land
lay from the south-east to the north-west.

Deviating now from the east a little more to the north, our route
conducted us towards Ngulfala, a Seriba in Bongoland, about fourteen
miles away. We had to make our way through a complicated system of
rounded caps of gneiss, and to wind round flat-topped hills that gave
the district the aspect of being a miniature mountain-chain, the
source-land probably of the Ghetty and the watershed between that
stream and the Pongo. The rise in the ground was very obvious. The
highest of the rounded eminences, named Atyumm, was about 200 feet
above our path, and at least 500 feet above the adjacent steppe below;
it had a semi-spherical form, very like that of Gumango, near Bendo’s
village, in the Niam-niam country.

[Sidenote: NGULFALA.]

Before reaching Ngulfala we had to cross the Ghetty, here a meagre
stream, corresponding to the absorbing nature of the soil through which
it flows. The distance between the spot and where we had crossed it at
Bizelly’s Seriba is about forty miles, but the river presented just the
same aspect—a broad, deep rift in the earth, with its water almost
stationary in its pools. A considerable number of maraboo-storks were
seen, either standing upon the banks or dipping into the water-holes
for fish and mollusks (_Anodontæ_).

The altitude of the Seriba above the level of the sea was 1905 feet,
about 500 lower than Dehm Adlan; but it should be observed that an
accidental rise in the ground is made simply by the hill-system of
Atyumm, itself nearly 500 feet, so that (without allowing anything for
the cutting of the stream) the gradual descent of the land during the
thirty or thirty-five miles that it extends eastwards from the Pongo
must amount altogether to just about 1000 feet.

The lower level of the soil becomes more obvious still over the next
stretch of country. The nearest Seriba in Bongoland, called Moody,
belonged, like the one before it, to the possessions of Agahd; and the
thirteen or fourteen miles that led us there brought us over a tract of
perpetual marshes, the flat steppes that divided them being traversed
by five khors that we found perfectly dry. The names of these khors
were reported to me as the Mingangah, the Bolongoh, the Boddoowee, the
Doggolomah, and the Koddahirara, of which, if the testimony of my Bongo
bearers is to be trusted, the two former take their course northwards
to the Ghetty, and the three latter make their way southwards to the
Wow.

In Moody I took a day’s rest, as I had done in Ngulfala. I required it
very much, as I had taken a violent cold, and felt altogether weak and
out of sorts. Throughout the time we halted there was a strong north
wind blowing, very keen and chilly.

[Illustration: A Bongo concert.]

Feeling somewhat better towards evening, I took a short ramble amongst
the homesteads of the place. It was here that I came across the grave
of the departed Bongo chief Yanga, with its monumental erection, of
which I have already[80] given an illustration. The Bongo here seemed
to show a remarkable originality in their contrivances. In their huts
I was continually finding some furniture or implements which in other
parts of the country had long become obsolete. The variety of their
musical instruments, as I have described them in the chapter devoted
to their manners and customs, is very great, and to exemplify the use
of them, I may here introduce a sketch which represents four young men
whom I saw in Moody, and who had met together to while away the evening
by performing quartets.

[Sidenote: NORWAY RATS.]

The controller at Moody was in possession of a couple of
caracal-lynxes, which he had caught when they were quite young, and
which he was training, intending to send them when full-grown to
Khartoom. One of the Bongo men was employed in attending to them,
and in order to keep them supplied with food he was obliged to spend
the greater portion of his time in catching rats. He used to bring
them home, tied up in dozens, from the banks of the neighbouring
river-course. These rats were of a reddish-brown colour, with white
bellies, and were called “luny” by the Bongo; except that they are
smaller in size, they are very like what we know as “Norway rats.”
They are never found except in the proximity of water, and appear to
be indistinguishable from those which infest the huts and granaries
in every respect but in colour. Whether the Norway rats in their
dispersion have ever reached as far as these remote districts is a
question that I cannot answer, as the investigation of the specimens I
brought with me has not yet been completed.

Two leagues to the south-east of Moody lies a subsidiary Seriba of
Kurshook Ali’s, named Moddu-Mabah; and three leagues farther on in the
same direction is the chief Seriba of Hassaballa, known amongst the
Bongo as Gellow. This is situated on the hither side of the Wow, and
at no great distance from it. The narrow strip of land between the Wow
and the Dyoor contains at least half a dozen smaller Seribas, which lie
along the route to the Bellanda, and which belong partly to Kurshook
Ali and partly to Hassaballa.

The little Seriba Moody, together with all its huts, was overshadowed
by a single fig-tree, of such enormous growth that it was quite a
magnificent example of the development which that tree may attain. It
belonged to the species named the _Ficus lutea_, the mbehry of the
Bongo. It was not that the height of the stem of this giant of Moody
was very excessive; the remarkable growth displayed itself rather in
the prodigious thickness and spreading habits of the powerful arms,
every one of which was so massive that it might stand a comparison with
the stoutest of our pines and firs. The peculiar bark only appears on
parts of the stem; its colour is light grey, and, like that of the
plane, it is scored with diagonal lines. All the boughs, right up to
the highest, are furnished with external pendant roots, that hang in
the air like a huge beard; they encompass the trunk of the tree with
a regular network, like rope and string. But it should be observed of
this species that its principal branches altogether fail in throwing
out those perpendicular roots, which, falling straight downwards, find
their way into the earth and give such a remarkable appearance to trees
like those venerable sycamores of Egypt, which stand as though they
made the pillared corridor of a stately coliseum.[81]

[Sidenote: EFFECT OF THE EVIL EYE.]

A singular story was associated with this noble tree at Moody, and I
found the entire population of the Seriba still under the influence
of the astonishment and alarm that had only recently been excited. It
appeared that one of the great branches, having become worm-eaten and
decayed, had fallen to the ground, and as it fell would inevitably have
utterly smashed in a contiguous hut if it had tumbled in any other
direction than it did. This fall of the huge bough was attributed by
the Nubians to the direct agency of an “evil eye,” which it was alleged
had been directed against the tree by a soldier who had happened to be
passing through the place the day before my arrival. Just as usual the
people had been collected in front of their huts under shade of the
tree, when the man in question, pointing significantly to the bough,
said, “That bough up there is quite rotten; it would be a bad business
if it were to come tumbling down upon your heads.” No sooner said than
done. The words were hardly out of the fellow’s mouth before there was
a prodigious cracking and creaking, and down came the huge branch with
a crash to the ground. There lay the fragments. I heard the testimony
from the very lips of eye-witnesses, and what could I say?

It took us two days more to accomplish our return journey to Wow.
The chief Seriba of Agahd’s company lay to the north-east of Moody,
and, allowing for a slight deviation from the direct route, was about
thirty-five miles distant. The country was clothed with light bushwood,
but in no part did it exhibit anything like the same richness of
foliage as the western lands that we had left behind. We had to pass
over two low-lying marsh-districts, Katyirr and Dumburre, where, hidden
amongst the tall, half-withered grass, we found several cavities filled
by springs of water. At Dumburre we came across traces of a deserted
settlement, which, according to the statements of the Bongo of my
party, were the remains of the very earliest Seriba that had been
established in the land. Our night was spent upon the borders of a
marshy stream called the Moll, and was very uncomfortable on account of
a heavy north-east gale which blew from ten o’clock.

The dogs that were with me were kept in a constant state of excitement
by the perpetual rushing that went on in the bushwood, and it was
impossible to restrain them from rushing off into the darkness, and
carrying on a hunting game on their own account. All through the
night they kept running in and out of the camp, very often returning
bespattered with blood. A farther indication of the abundance of wild
animals that existed in the neighbourhood was afforded by the continual
howling of hyænas, which, in a manner that was quite unusual, kept us
disturbed all through the night.

For our supper that evening we had had a couple of fine reed-rats
measuring just twenty-one inches from their snouts to the root of the
tail. Before leaving Dumburre I had had a small steppe-burning of my
own. By the help of my bearers, who were set to the work of beating the
bush, I had quite an interesting hunt, the produce of which had been
two zebra-ichneumons and the two far-el-boos (reed-rats), which had
been carried with us in triumph to the camp.

Beyond the Moll we entered upon a hilly region, the ground being much
broken by scattered shrubs. On both sides of the pathway lines of red
rocky hills emerged in the distance, varied occasionally by flats and
rounded projections of the ever-abundant gneiss. The next watercourse
to which we came was the Dabohlo, a marshy spot, but now nearly dry,
upon which we could discern the traces of a large number of buffaloes.
Here, also, we had a very prolific _battue_ of guinea-fowl; for the
early morning hours had tempted them to collect by hundreds around the
little puddles which were left standing every here and there within the
limits of the marsh.

Far as the eye could reach there was nothing to be seen but a
gently-sloping steppe, entirely void of trees, which it took the
bearers 3000 paces to get over; but this accomplished, we reached a
depression in the same marsh-lands (now, however, perfectly dry) that
were relieved in various places by groups of Terminaliæ. Beyond this
the ground began to take a considerable ascent, the valley upon the
far east being bounded by a range of hills that ran from south-east to
north-west; and the rise continued through the four remaining miles
that brought us to the Seriba.

[Sidenote: RETURN TO MY FRIEND KHALIL.]

Thus, after forty-nine days’ absence, and numbering 876,000 paces
in the interval, I again returned to the quarters of my good friend
Khalil. While I had been away he had, for my special accommodation,
most considerately erected some new and pretty huts, in which I was
very pleased to spend the remainder of my sojourn.

FOOTNOTES:

[75]

Zwei Jahre schwanden, immer wandern
Noch die Zigeuner friedlich fort
Von einer Steppe zu der andern
Und finden gastlich jeden Ort;
Der jeden Bildungszwang verachtet,
Aleko ist so frei wie sie.
Nicht die Familie, wie sie waren,
Nichts weiss er mehr von frühern Jahren,
Ganz zum Zigeuner ward er schon.
(_German translation from Puschkin’s_ ‘TZIGANI.’)

[76] Barth, vol. iii., p. 578.

[77] Some geographers fall into error with respect to
this place by making Dar Sheela identical with
the well-known Dar Sileh or Dar Silah, which is a
different negro Mohammedan country, many of the people
of which I have seen.

[78] _Vide_ De Cadalvene et de Breuvery L’Egypte,
vol. ii. p. 237, where the Orientalist König
has given his interpretation of a map, which
Teïma-Walad-el-Sultan-Messabani (Governor of Kordofan,
subject to the control of Darfoor) had himself
projected.

[79] Fresnel pursued his researches in Djidda in the years
1848 and 1849.

[80] _Vide_ vol. i., Chap. VII.

[81] A sycamore of this description is to be seen on the
island of Rodah in Cairo, in the garden of the Duke of
Dumont, where the formation of pillars (promoted by
hanging pitchers of water on the branches) consists of
two perfectly concentric circles that girdle the whole
stem. This sycamore is one of the most remarkable
natural curiosities of Egypt, and is well worth a
visit.

[Illustration: SLAVE-TRADERS FROM KORDOFAN.]

CHAPTER XXIII.

Katherine II.’s villages. Goods bartered by slave-traders. Agents
of slave-traders. Baseness of Fakis. Horrible scene. Enthusiasm
of slave-dealers. Hospitality shown to slave-dealers. Three
classes of Gellahbas. Intercourse with Mofio. Price of slaves.
Relative value of races. Private slaves of the Nubians.
Voluntary slaves. Slave-women. The murhaga. Agricultural
slave-labour. Population of the district. Five sources of the
slave trade. Repressive measures of the Government. Slave-raids
of Mehemet Ali. Slow progress of humanity. Accomplishment of
half the work. Egypt’s mission. No co-operation from Islamism.
Regeneration of the East. Depopulation of Africa. Indignation
of the traveller. Means for suppressing the slave trade.
Commissioners of slaves. Chinese immigration. Foundation and
protection of great States.

Probably the overland slave-trade along the roads of Kordofan had never
been so flourishing as in the winter of 1870-71, when I found myself
at its very fountain-head. Already, in the previous summer, had Sir
Samuel Baker, with praiseworthy energy, commenced scouring the waters
of the Upper Nile, and by capturing all slave-vessels and abolishing
a large “chasua” belonging to the Mudir of Fashoda, had left no doubt
as to the earnestness of his purpose; but whether it was that his
peremptory measures had driven the Gellahbas of Kordofan to a common
centre, or whether the reported scarcity of cotton-stuffs in the
Seribas had raised their hopes of doing some business, or whether, as
perhaps was most likely, the introduction of Egyptian troops into the
Bahr-el-Ghazal district opened a fresh and attractive avenue to their
avarice—one thing is certain that neither Baker nor the Government
(the Viceroy being free from blame in the matter) accomplished anything
like a practical supervision over the local authorities in Kordofan.
Satisfied with having, to the eyes of the world at large, made a clean
sweep of the waters of the Nile, Sir Samuel and his supporters did not
perceive, or could not remedy, what was going on on either side of the
great river-highway. To anyone who should now enter the country under
the impression that the slave-trade on the Upper Nile was for ever
abolished, and should subsequently learn by contrast the true condition
of the lands, a scene would be presented that might well remind him of
the painted villages that were exhibited to Katherine II. on her tour
through Southern Russia.

[Sidenote: GOODS FOR BARTER.]

The sheikh Seebehr complained bitterly of the great rush of Gellahbas
to his establishment, and told me that his corn was so nearly exhausted
that his land was threatened with famine. From his own mouth I learnt
that during the winter two large caravans had come through Shekka,
and had brought into the country the enormous quantity of 2000 of
these petty adventurers; by the middle of January the number was still
larger, and at the beginning of February was swollen again by 600 or
700 more.

All these traders break their journeys across the steppes of the
Baggara by making a lengthened stay at Shekka, for the purpose of
purchasing oxen both for riding and for carrying burdens; here also
it is their practice to lay in a stock of butter[82] for bartering in
the Seribas, where it is in great demand. The goods that they bring
into the Seriba districts are principally calico, “trumba,” a coarse
material woven in Sennaar, and English cotton of two sorts, “amerikani
and damoor;” they also make a market of a number of firearms, mostly
ordinary double-barrelled guns, of Belgian manufacture, worth from ten
to twenty dollars apiece; in addition to these they frequently carry on
a brisk trade in all kinds of knick-knacks—pipes, looking-glasses,
Turkish slippers, red fezzes, and carpets.

Every Gellahba, according to his means, takes into his service a number
of the Baggara, to whom he entrusts the training and management of
his cattle. Camels invariably succumb to the climate in a very short
time, and are consequently but rarely used as a means of transport.
All the traders ride asses, and it may safely be asserted that they
pass the greater part of their lives on the backs of these animals; in
fact, a petty pedlar of the Soudan without his donkey would be a sight
almost as remarkable as a Samoyede without his reindeer. Besides its
rider the donkey will carry not much less than ten pieces of cotton;
if it survives the journey it is exchanged in the Seribas for a slave,
or perhaps for two; its load of goods will bring in three more, and
thus, under favourable circumstances, a speculative vagrant, who has
started with nothing beyond his donkey and five pounds’ worth of goods,
will find himself in possession of at least four slaves, which may be
disposed of in Khartoom for 250 dollars (50_l_.) The return journey is
always made on foot, and the unfortunate slaves have to carry all the
articles necessary for travelling.

[Sidenote: FAKIS.]

But quite apart from these pettifogging traders, whose innate
propensity for trafficking in human beings can only be compared to the
ineradicable love of usury that characterises the itinerant Polish
Jews, there are numbers of more important investors, who, protected
by a large retinue of armed slaves and accompanied by long trains of
loaded oxen and asses, carry on a business which brings many hundreds
of their fellow-creatures into the market. These more wholesale
dealers have their partners or agents permanently settled in regular
establishments in the large Seribas. More frequently than not these
agents are priests, or Fakis as they are called, though strictly the
term Faki belongs only to those whose profession it is to explain the
Scriptures; it is, however, an indisputable fact that the slave-trade
is included amongst the secondary occupations of this class, and, as
matter of fact, they are all more or less soiled with the defilements
of this scandalous business. In the larger towns, and especially in
Khartoom, there is every opportunity for observing their doings, and
things often come to light which, except they were actually witnessed,
would seem perfectly incredible. In finding scope for their commercial
propensities they practice the most heterogeneous trades: the poorer
Fakis act as brokers, retail-dealers, amulet-writers, quacks,
schoolmasters, and match-makers; whilst the richer and more educated
class are directors of schools and managers of inns, where they place
paid subordinates to carry on their business. The doctrines of the
Prophet are taught in their schools, whilst the merissa-shops are
dedicated in a large degree to the worship of Venus. But, in spite of
everything, these people are held in the greatest veneration, and their
reputation for piety not unfrequently survives the generation in which
they live; they are buried in the public places for prayer, the place
of interment being marked by small white banners as hallowed ground. A
few words will suffice to exhibit these holy men in their true colours.

With the Suras of the Koran in one hand and their operating-knife[83]
in the other, they rove from Seriba to Seriba all over the country,
leading what might be termed in the most rigid sense a life of
perpetual prayer; every other word that they utter is either an
invocation of Allah or a direct appeal to Mohammed-el-Rasool. But
the wide difference between faith and practice is exemplified in
the unrighteous dealings of these Fakis; never did I see slaves so
mercilessly treated as by these fanatics, and yet they would confer
upon the poor souls, whom they had purchased like stolen goods, for a
mere bagatelle, the most religious of names, such as “Allagabo” (_i.
e._ given by God). The following incident will show that with their
horrible blasphemy they do not hesitate to combine such cruelty as the
commonest scavenger would shrink from using to a dying dog.

In one of their convoys were some poor, miserable Mittoo-slaves, almost
too emaciated to bear the heavy yoke (the sheyba) that was fastened
to their necks. Going, as I was wont, to my kitchen garden, I had
constantly to pass the huts in which they were kept. One morning,
hearing an unusual outcry, I paused to inquire what was the matter.
A scene, such as my pen can only indignantly depict, met my gaze. A
dying man had been dragged from the hut, and was being belaboured by
the cruelest of lashes to prove whether life was yet extinct. The
long white stripes on the withered skin testified to the agonies
that the poor wretch was enduring, and the vociferations I had beard
were the shouts of his persecutors, who were yelling out their oaths
and imprecations. “The cursed dog, he is not dead yet! the heathen
rascal won’t die!” Then, as though resolved to accumulate cruelty
upon cruelty, the Faki’s slave-boys not only began to break out into
revolting jeers, but actually played at football with the writhing body
of the still gasping victim; truly it seemed to be with justice that
La Fontaine had recorded: “_Cet âge est sans pitié_.” The horrible
contortions of the sufferer’s countenance, even if they failed to
excite commiseration, were sufficient to melt the hardest of hearts;
but so far from this, the unfeeling reprobates were loud in their
asseverations that the poor wretch was only shamming, and intended to
sneak off unobserved. His pitiable appearance, however, gainsaid their
words, and he was finally dragged off into the woods, where a few weeks
afterwards I found his skull, which I deposited with those of many
others of his fellow-sufferers in the Museum in Berlin.

Such is the history of the skull marked No. 36 in my collection, and
such are the deeds perpetrated in the very face of death by Mohammedan
priests, who consider themselves the very pillars of their faith. And
yet our missionaries, perhaps the most guileless men in the world,
start by putting themselves on equal terms with these Mussulmen, and
endeavour to make headway against their faith, when it is really a
simple case of morality that is at issue. The history of Islamism has
ever been a history of crime, and to Christian morality alone do we owe
all the social good that we enjoy.

[Sidenote: GELLAHBAS.]

It must not, however, be supposed that the minor retail trade in slaves
is uniformly lucrative. The smaller Gellahbas are exposed to numberless
mischances; if their ox or ass should die upon the journey, they must
at once dispose of their other property at any price; then, again, they
are liable to suffer from a lack of corn during their journey across
the wilderness; and, what is perhaps the sorest disaster that can
befall them, their slaves so frequently run away, that their profits
are dispersed before they are realised. Their powers of endurance
are truly wonderful. I repeatedly asked them what induced them to
leave their homes, to change their mode of living, and to suffer the
greatest hardships in a strange land, all for the sake of pursuing an
occupation that only in the rarest cases would keep them from absolute
want. “We want ‘groosh’” (piastres), they would reply; “so why should
we live at home?” And when I further urged that they had far better
lead respectable lives, and either grow corn or breed cattle, they
answered, “No, that wouldn’t answer our purpose; when we are at home,
we are exhausted by the demands of the Government, and corn doesn’t
bring us in any money.” Not that the Government is really so hard upon
the people as they assert; the fact is that they are incorrigibly lazy,
and have so great a dislike to work of any sort that they do not care
to be able to pay their taxes, which do not much exceed those that are
usually demanded in Egypt proper. To expect that these slave-traders
should renounce of their own accord the business which suits them so
completely, and for which they will endure any amount of hardship,
would be almost as unreasonable as to expect Esquimaux to grow melons.

All trade is undeniably in a very stagnant condition in the Egyptian
Soudan; the rich man gives nothing away, but lives like a dog, and
has no desire beyond that of privately amassing wealth; of domestic
comfort, or luxury even on the limited Oriental scale, he has not the
faintest conception. There is consequently no demand for labour, no
circulation of money in wages, and it is manifestly impossible for
trade to flourish as long as the rich man consumes nothing; and equally
impossible for the poor man to thrive while the rich man keeps his
retinue of slaves, who do all he wants without requiring payment. Thus
slavery itself ever reproduces slavery.

One material alleviation to the position of the Gellahbas is the
open hospitality they meet with in all the Seribas. Besides the
mercenaries of the various ivory companies—the controllers, clerks,
agents, storekeepers, and other officials—they find numbers of their
compatriots and brethren in the faith who have taken up their abode
in these lands, and who subsist free of expense on what is gained by
the sweat of the negroes; mere idle drones, as it were, living on the
produce of the workers. The rabble thus collected consists partly of
escaped convicts and partly of refugees or outlaws who are evading
their proper punishment, and if they could be swept from off the face
of the land, there would then be food enough for half a score of
regiments, should the Egyptian Government determine to station them in
the country.

Just in the same way as in the Egyptian Soudan, the actual cost of
travelling in these lands is next to nothing; every new comer to a
Seriba is treated to kissere and melah, and his slaves and donkey are
provided with corn enough to keep them from starvation. Wherever they
go the Gellahbas may stay as long as they please, and accordingly they
wander all over the district from the west to the east, as far as the
Rohl and the Dyemit, and only just before the commencement of the rainy
season they reassemble at their common place of rendezvous in Seebehr’s
Seriba, where they re-organise their caravans, and make their final
preparations for starting for Kordofan.

[Sidenote: THREE CLASSES OF GELLAHBAS.]

The Gellahbas who, either on their own account or as representatives of
others, carry on the slave-trade in this district may be divided into
three classes:—

1. The petty dealers, who, with only a single ass or bullock, come in
January and return in March or April.

2. The agents or partners of the great slave merchants in Darfoor
and Kordofan, who have settled in the Seribas, nearly always in the
capacity of Fakis.

3. The colonised slave-dealers, who live on their own property in the
Dehms of the west.

The last of these form the only class who ever penetrate beyond the
bounds of the Seriba district into the negro-countries. They nearly all
direct their course from the Dehms in Dar Ferteet to the territories
of Mofio, the great Niam-niam king of the west, and are accompanied by
considerable bands of armed men, whom they recruit for this purpose
from the best of their slaves. Contrary to the policy of the Khartoom
ivory-merchants, the Gellahbas have by degrees supplied King Mofio with
such a number of firearms that he is now said to have at his command
a force of 300 fully-equipped warriors, a formidable fighting-force
with which he seriously threatens any expedition of the Khartoomers
that may enter his dominions. His store of slaves appears absolutely
inexhaustible; year after year his territories go on yielding thousands
upon thousands, which he obtains either from the slave tribes[84] that
he has subjected or by raids organised against the surrounding nations.

As regards the price paid for slaves, I can only report what I
personally witnessed in the Seribas. Copper and calico are used as
the principal mediums of exchange. Calico is very fluctuating in its
value, which is always first reduced to its equivalent in copper.
In 1871 thirty rottoli of copper[85] in Dehm Nduggo and twenty-five
rottoli in the Bongo and Dyoor districts was taken for young slaves of
both sexes of the class called “sittahsi” (literally, six spans high),
meaning children of eight or ten years of age; thus making the average
price in this country, according to the value of copper in Khartoom,
to be about 7½ Maria Theresa dollars (1_l._ 10_s._); particularly
pretty women-slaves, called “nadeef,” _i. e._ clean or pure, fetch
nearly double that price, and are very rarely procured for exportation,
because they are in great demand amongst the numerous settlers in the
country. Strong adult women, who are ugly, are rather cheaper than the
young girls, whilst old women are worth next to nothing, and can be
bought for a mere bagatelle. Full-grown men are rarely purchased as
slaves, being troublesome to control and difficult of transport. Slaves
in the East are usually in demand as _objets de luxe_, and consequently
lead an idle life, and are not valued according to their capabilities
for labour.

In consequence of the glut of wares in the market during the winter
of 1871, the quoted value of slaves rose to almost double that of the
previous year, and very high prices were paid in cotton stuffs. As much
as four or six pieces of the ordinary sort (damoor) were paid for the
“sittahsi,” each piece measuring twenty-four yards in length, and worth
two Maria Theresa dollars in Khartoom. Next to white cotton materials
firearms are a very favourite means of payment, and bring in a far
larger proportional profit. For an ordinary double-barrelled gun of
French or Belgian manufacture, a slave-dealer can purchase two or three
sittahsi, and if the weapon has gilt facings he can sometimes obtain as
many as five for it.

[Sidenote: PRICE OF SLAVES.]

The price of slaves in Khartoom at that time might be reckoned to be at
least six times their original cost; of course it will be understood
that the value would be regulated to a great extent by the more or less
severe measures taken by the local government for the suppression of
the trade; but at the time of my departure from Khartoom, at a period
when the market was tolerably unrestrained, no slave could be obtained
for less than forty Maria Theresa dollars, and that was the lowest
price given for elderly women only fit for household service.

[Illustration: Babuckur slave.]

The slaves brought from the Bahr-el-Ghazal districts vary in value
according to their nationality. The Bongo are the most prized, as
they are easily taught and are docile and faithful, and are, besides,
good-looking and industrious. True Niam-niam, especially young girls,
are, however, much dearer than the best Bongo slaves, but they are
so extremely rare as hardly to admit of having a price quoted. The
Mittoo are of little value, being ugly, lean, and incapable of enduring
fatigue or even of undertaking any regular work. No amount of good
living or kind treatment can overcome the love of freedom of the
Babuckur; they take every oportunity of effecting an escape, and can
only be secured by fetters and by the yoke;[86] the same may also be
said of the Loobah and Abaka. The demand for slaves in the Seribas
through which I travelled would alone suffice to support a very
flourishing trade. Numerically the Mohammedan settlers bear a high
ratio to the native population, and in some of the western territories,
as amongst the Kredy, Golo, and Sehre, they are actually considerably
in excess of the total number of natives, who only consist of bearers
and agricultural labourers. Taken one with another every Nubian
possesses about three slaves, and thus it may easily be conceived that
the computation is not too high that places the total number of private
slaves in the country at between 50,000 and 60,000. These private
slaves are quite distinct from those that are kept in store and used as
merchandise; they may be divided into four categories:—

1. Boys from seven to ten years of age, who are employed to carry guns
and ammunition: every Nubian soldier possesses at least one of these
juvenille armour-bearers. When they get older they are included in my
next category.

[Sidenote: FAROOKH.]

2. The second class includes the greater part of the full-grown natives
in the Seribas. They are termed “Farookh,” “Narakeek,” or “Bazingir,”
and, being provided with guns, form a kind of Nizzam, whose duty it
is to accompany the natives in all their expeditions, whether for
war or for trading purposes. These black soldiers constitute nearly
half the fighting force in all the Seribas, and play a prominent part
in time of war. It is the duty of the Farookh to scour the negro
villages in search of corn, to assemble the bearers, and to keep
under coercion any that are refractory in the wilderness. In every
action the hardest work is put upon their shoulders, and they have
not only to sustain the chief brunt of any actual conflict with the
savages, but to provide for the safe custody of all prisoners. If the
controllers of the Seribas had a sufficient number of these Farookh,
they might well dispense altogether with their Nubian soldiers, except
for one reason, to which I have already referred, viz. the constant
danger of their running away, a risk that makes them practically less
reliable than the Nubians, who never think of such a thing, and even
if they did, would only join another company. The Farookh have wives,
children, and land in the Seribas, and some of the elder amongst them
have even slave boys of their own to carry their guns. Their ranks
are largely increased after every Niam-niam expedition, as numbers of
young natives will often voluntarily attach themselves to the Nubians,
and, highly delighted at getting a cotton shirt and gun of their own,
will gladly surrender themselves to slavery, attracted moreover by
the hope of finding better food in the Seribas than their own native
wildernesses can produce. The mere offer of these simple inducements
in any part of the Niam-niam lands would be sufficient to gather a
whole host of followers and vassals, and during our journey I myself
received proposals to join our band from young people in all parts
of the country. I mention this circumstance just to illustrate my
opinion of how easily the Egyptian Government might, without using any
compulsion, enlist here as many soldiers as it required. I am persuaded
that, without any difficulty, whole regiments of Nizzam troops might be
raised from amongst the Niam-niam in the course of comparatively a very
few days.

3. The third class of private slaves is formed of the women who
are kept in the houses. Every soldier has one of these slaves, and
sometimes more, in which case one is advanced to the position of
favourite, whilst the rest are employed in the ordinary routine of
preparing meal, or in the tedious process of baking kissere. These
women are passed like dollars from hand to hand, a proceeding which
is a prolific source of the rapid spread of those loathsome disorders
by which the lands within the jurisdiction of the Seribas have been
infested ever since their subjugation by the Khartoomers. In accordance
with the universal rule in the Mohammedan Soudan, the children of a
slave are reared as legitimate, and the mother receives the title of
wife. The daily conversation of the Nubian mercenaries is a continual
proof that their thoughts are always running on their slaves both male
and female. If a quarrel arises amongst a group of people, one is
certain to be correct in surmising that some slave or other is being
reclaimed or the payment due for her is being demanded; or if there is
a sudden uproar, the burden of the cry is sure to be, “A slave has run
away!” “Kummarah olloroh,” shout the Bongo, and “Ollomollo, ollomollo,”
resounds from every side. Many and many a time have I been roused from
my slumbers in the early morning by such cries as these, and it is one
of the occupations of the Seriba people and their negroes to hunt down
and recapture these runaway women. Hunger often obliges the fugitives
to take refuge in a strange Seriba; here they are looked upon as lucky
windfalls, and are either seized by force or are quietly disposed of to
the itinerant Gellahbas; and if the rightful owner subsequently appears
to claim his property, a violent squabble will inevitably be the
result. These slaves are thus the subject of one incessant wrangling;
and if a slave absent herself only temporarily without the consent of
her master, she will at once excite his jealousy, displeasure, and
mistrust.

[Sidenote: HOUSEHOLD DRUDGES.]

The single slave of the poorer soldiers is a regular drudge, or
maid-of-all work: she has to bring water from the well in great
pitchers, which she carries on her head; she does all the washing, if
there is anything to wash; she grinds the corn upon the murhaga, makes
the dough, roasts the kissere on the doka, and finally prepares the
melah, a horrible greasy concoction of water, sesame-oil or pounded
sesame, bamia-pods, and corchorus leaves, beautifully seasoned with
cayenne pepper and alkali. Not only has she to do the sweeping of the
whole house, but she has to get wood from the wilderness, and, when
on a journey, to supply the want of any other bearer by carrying all
the lumber of her lord and master. In the larger households, however,
of the more important people, such as controllers or agents, where
slaves are numerous, each woman has her own allotted task, and a large
number of boys is employed, who follow their master on his travels,
each carrying a single weapon, either a gun, a pistol, or a sword. From
all this some little idea may be gained of the unwieldy crowd that
must necessarily be attached to every march undertaken by the Nubian
mercenaries. To a force of 200 soldiers on our Niam-niam expedition
there were as many as 300 women and boys; a party which, as well as
immoderately increasing the length of the procession, by the clatter of
their cooking utensils and their everlasting wrangling (scenes of which
I have already given some illustration), kept up a perpetual turmoil
which at times threatened a hopeless confusion.

[Illustration: Slave at work.]

The rude and primitive manner of grinding corn employed throughout
the Mohammedan Soudan contributes more than may at first sight seem
credible to perpetuate the immense demand for female slave labour. The
very laborious process is performed by pounding the grain on a large
stone, called murhaga, by means of a smaller stone held in the hand; it
is the only method of grinding corn known to the majority of African
nations, and is so slow that by the hardest day’s work a woman is able
to prepare only a sufficient quantity of meal for five or six men.[87]
A mill worked by oxen has been erected by the Government in Khartoom,
not only for the use of the troops, but also to enable private
individuals to have their corn ground at a moderate price; but in spite
of this provision the durra-corn is still pounded on the murhaga in
all the houses; not a single resident takes advantage of the improved
facility that is offered. Until this lavish waste of human strength is
suppressed, either by the introduction of mechanical handmills or by
putting a tax upon the murhaga, no hope is to be entertained of any
diminution in the demand for female slaves. This is but one instance,
yet it may suffice to show how gradually and consistently one must set
to work ultimately to gain the suppression of slavery in the Soudan:
nowhere can old institutions be declared to be abolished, until new
institutions have been provided to take their place.

[Sidenote: SLAVES EMPLOYED IN AGRICULTURE.]

4. In my fourth and last category I would include all slaves of both
sexes who are employed exclusively in husbandry. Only the men in
more important situations, such as the controllers of the Seribas,
the clerks, the dragomen (generally natives who have been brought
up like Arabs in Khartoom), the Fakis, and the colonised Gellahbas
actually cultivate the soil and possess cattle; the poorer people being
content with a little occasional gardening and the possession of a
few goats and fowls. Old women, who are too weak for anything else,
are employed to weed the fields, and at harvest time the Farookh are
called to their assistance. Statute labour as applied to agriculture
is nowhere demanded of the natives, although it would really act less
disadvantageously on the condition of the population than the arbitrary
system that allows any controller of a Seriba to seize the children
from the native villages and dispose of them to the Gellahbas, a
proceeding that is generally carried out as a punishment for offences
like dishonesty, treachery, or attempts to abscond.

The remote position of the Seribas places the controllers far beyond
any authority, and makes them quite independent of the jurisdiction
of the chiefs of the trading-firms, who are most of them settled in
Khartoom without much care for either their own advantage or for that
of the country; it thus becomes necessary to appoint trustworthy
people to the post, and consequently the head-controllers are in many
cases slaves who have been reared in their master’s house. A controller
has every opportunity if he pleases of coming to an arrangement with
the soldiers and other officials, and in concert with them of acting
very much to his chiefs disadvantage; or he might sell the negroes on
his territories to the Gellahbas, turn the proceeds into copper, and
retire as a rich man to Darfoor, already a place of refuge for many
delinquents from the Egyptian Soudan.

The sub-controllers and agents in the subsidiary Seribas are, on the
other hand, far less trustworthy; their position is often held only for
a temporary period, and consequently their interests are not so firmly
bound up with those of their chiefs as those of his former slaves.
Then, too, the smaller Seribas are often so far apart that the Vokeel
can transact all their business without any supervision from the head
controller; all this is well known to the itinerant slave-dealers, who
have a special preference for visiting these minor settlements, because
they are aware that they can there buy up numbers of boys and girls,
disregardful of the fact that, as future bearers and agricultural
labourers, the children are vassals belonging to the soil, and form
part and parcel of the property of the head of the firm.

After thus considering slave-labour in its separate branches, and
gaining some idea of the immense and wasteful expenditure of human
energy that goes on in the Seribas of the Khartoomers, we may turn our
attention to the numerical proportion of the foreign settlers (with
whom must be included their private slaves) to the actual aboriginal
population. The following table is founded upon a careful calculation;
the results are given in round numbers, as fuller details would demand
more space than could be afforded here.

[Sidenote: CONSUMERS AND PRODUCERS.]

_Proportions of the_ POPULATION _in the District of the_ KHARTOOMERS’
SERIBAS _on the Bahr-el-Ghazal_.

CONSUMERS.

Nubian soldiers, recruited in Khartoom and consisting of
natives of Dongola, Sheygieh, Sennaar, Kordofan, various
Bedouins, &c. 5,000

Black slave troops (Farookh)[88] 5,000

Fellow-boarders with the Nubian idlers from the Soudan,
living here in order to procure corn cheaply and without
any trouble 1,000

Gellahbas settled in Dar Ferteet, and agents in the Seribas,
Fakis, &c. 2,000

Itinerant Gellahbas, who enter the country in the winter 2,000

Private slaves belonging to the colonised Mohammedan
population 40,000
------
TOTAL 55,000
------

PRODUCERS.

Bongo 100,000

Mittoo (including Loubah, Madi, &c.) 30,000

Dyoor 10,000

Golo 6,000

Sehre 4,000

Kredy 20,000

Small tribes of natives belonging to the immediate environs
of the Seribas, such as the Dembo, Bimberry, Manga, &c. 20,000
-------
TOTAL 190,000
-------

In the next place let us turn our attention to those slaves who are
regarded as actual merchandise, and who are dragged into bondage
from the Upper Nile lands solely for purposes of profit. In order
to demonstrate how important at the present time is the part taken
by the district of the Gazelle in the entire African slave-trade,
I will take a brief survey of the sources which all the year round
supply the endless succession of the dealers with fresh stores of
living wares, and which, branching off into three great highways to
the north, yield up their very life-blood to gratify the insatiable
and luxurious demands of Egypt, Arabia, Persia, and Asiatic Turkey.
Previous travellers have estimated the total of the annual traffic in
this immense region to be 25,000, but I shall show by a very summary
reckoning that this is far too low a computation. The three currents
for the slave-trade in north-east Africa (a region corresponding to
what may be geographically termed the “Nile district”) are the natural
highways of the Nile and the Red Sea, and the much frequented caravan
roads that, traversing the deserts at no great distance to the west of
the Nile, find their outlet either in Siout or near Cairo. As a proof
of how little these roads even now are known, I may mention that when,
in the summer of 1871, a caravan with 2000 slaves arrived direct from
Wadai, it caused quite a sensation in the neighbourhood of the pyramids
of Gizeh; it was supposed to have traversed a geographical _terra
incognita_, and it divided and dispersed itself as mysteriously as it
came. It is far more difficult to place the deserts under inspection
than the ocean, and this is especially the case in the vicinity of a
river, where a caravan can easily supply itself with water for many
days. The borders of a desert are like the coasts of an unnavigable
ocean. The plan, however, of establishing a system of control along the
borders of the Nile Valley, corresponding to the coastguard cruisers on
our seas, has never yet been tried.

[Sidenote: SOURCES OF THE SLAVE-TRADE.]

The following are the territories that form the sources of the
slave-trade in North-Eastern Africa (Nile district):—

1. The Galla countries to the south of Abyssinia, between latitude 3°
and 8° N. The outlets from them are: (_a_) _viâ_ Shoa to Zeyla; (_b_)
_viâ_ Godyam through Abyssinia to Matamma and Suakin, or to Massowa
and smaller unguarded coast towns; (_c_) _viâ_ Fazogl to Sennaar,
where the largest market is not in, but above Khartoom, in a place
called Mussalemia; the merchandise brought by this route is abundant
and valuable. According to the reports of the Abyssinian collectors of
customs the number of slaves in Matamma (Gallabat) amounted in 1865
alone to 18,000.

2. The second source is found amongst the Berta negroes above Fazogl,
and amongst the Dinka above Sennaar, between the White and Blue Niles.
These are likewise carried to Mussalemia and Khartoom, but in no
considerable numbers.

3. The Agow, in the heart of Abyssinia between Tigre and Amhara,
together with the people on the north-west frontier of the Abyssinian
highland, are also exposed to plunder of the persons of their sons, on
account of their disorganised condition and their position on the wild
border-land. The channel for their dispersion is across the Red Sea to
Djidda.

4. The upper district of the White Nile, inclusive of the Albert and
Victoria Lakes, though the slave-trade really begins at latitude 5° N.
The expedition of Sir Samuel Baker has stopped this source. The annual
produce in the most favourable years did not exceed 1000.

5. The supply of slaves in the upper district of the Bahr-el-Ghazal
is chiefly derived from the Bongo, Mittoo, and Babuckur. For the last
twelve years the Gazelle has never been navigated by more than twenty
boats. On their return journeys the soldiers of the ivory merchants
carry their own slaves with them as payment and perquisites; but it
is very rare for a boat to carry more than twenty or thirty of these
slaves, so that the annual transport of slaves to Khartoom by this
route never exceeded from 400 to 600. This fact is perfectly authentic,
and thus it may be seen that even before Sir Samuel Baker’s expedition
put a stop to it altogether, the slave-trade that was carried on down
the river was quite insignificant compared to the overland traffic. For
years there has been a public prohibition against bringing slaves down
the White Nile into Khartoom, and ever and again stronger repressive
measures have been introduced, which, however, have only had the
effect of raising the land traffic to a premium; but as a general
rule the Egyptian officials connive at the use of this comparatively
unimportant channel of the trade, and pocket a quiet little revenue
for themselves by demanding a sum varying from two to five dollars a
head as hush-money. This expense, together with the continual risk
of the property being confiscated in Khartoom, has always prevented
the river trade from reaching a very flourishing condition; at all
events, the Egyptian Government has hitherto had the best of it.
Consuls from England, France, Germany, and Austria have been, and
are still in residence at Khartoom, and a Copt was also temporarily
appointed as consular agent for America; it was therefore an easy
matter for the Egyptian officials to feign in the eyes of the world at
large a wonderful amount of zeal and energy in the suppression of the
slave-trade, especially as every confiscation threw the whole cargo
into their hands; for the slaves were never sent back into their native
lands, but the full-grown men were turned into soldiers, whilst the
young girls and boys were divided at discretion amongst the troops
of the garrison. In these transactions a formidable bond was always
entered into by the receiver, from whom the former owner was at liberty
at any time to re-purchase the slave.

[Sidenote: CARAVAN ROADS.]

6. As we have already seen, the great source of the slave-trade is to
be found in the negro-countries to the south of Darfoor, which are
included under the name of Dar Ferteet. The natives, who for the last
forty years have been exposed to the rapacity of the slave-dealers,
and have been annually exported to the number of from 12,000 to 15,000
souls, belong to the Kredy tribes; but the great bulk of the slaves
come from the western Niam-niam territories, where the powerful King
Mofio (whose residence is about under latitude 7° N. and longitude 24°
E.) carries off on his own account, from the neighbouring nations who
are not Niam-niam, large numbers of slaves, and sells them to the
Gellahbas, by whom they are conveyed by the overland routes already
mentioned across Kordofan to Aboo Harras in the Egyptian dominions.
There are other routes that lead direct to Darfoor, whence caravans
start twice a year to Siout. Kordofan is in many ways in direct
communication with the most important markets of the slave trade; the
following being the most frequented caravan roads: (_a_) from Aboo
Harras to Khartoom _viâ_ El-Obeïd; (_b_) from Aboo Harras eastwards
to Mussalemia through Sennaar; (_c_) from Aboo Harras across the
Begudah steppes to Dongola _viâ_ El-Safy; (_d_) from Aboo Harras to
Berber along the Nile, for the purpose either of crossing the great
Nubian Desert or of keeping farther to the east across the Red Sea.
All these routes are associated to me by the many reminiscences of
slave-transport which I recall as having myself witnessed there.

7. A final and by no means unimportant source of the slave-trade is
found in the mountain lands south of Kordofan. The general term for
the negroes of these parts is Nooba,[89] a people that are much in
demand on account of their beauty and intelligence. It was in these
Nooba mountains that, after his bloody conquest of Kordofan, Mehemet
Ali, the great reformer and usurper in Egypt, allowed kidnapping to
be a legitimate source for the State revenue. From the slaves thus
obtained he formed black regiments, by means of which he was to subdue
the insalubrious Soudan, and paid his officers and subordinates with a
portion of the plunder.[90]

As the Egyptian Government itself was the first to teach its subjects
to kidnap slaves, it behoves it now in these more humane times to
make amends for all its past delinquencies, and I most cordially
acknowledge that the present ruler, with all the resources at his
command, is striving most honourably to accomplish the task.

Slavery, with its inseparable adjunct the slave-trade, is almost as old
as the world in which we dwell; there is not a page of history that
does not bear its traces, and not a climate nor a people in which it
has not made good its hold. An impartial survey of the past cannot but
convince us that religious institutions have effected little or nothing
in the cause of humanity, which has been left to take its own course
of development. At the present day slavery is considered incompatible
with Christian doctrine, but the history of ancient Christianity shows
a different picture.[91] The oldest Fathers of the Church seem to
have had no conception of there being anything wrong in possessing
or selling slaves; for although Christianity inculcated the precepts
of brotherly love, it also set forth the duty of slaves as slaves,
rendering obedience and submission to those who were their masters. But
the light that rose over Galilee emanated from a spirit so sublime that
it has taken eighteen centuries to accomplish its course of penetrating
the world, and only now is beginning to reveal itself in its true
purity.

But nowhere in the world has slavery been so thoroughly engrafted
and so widely disseminated as in Africa; the earliest mariners who
circumnavigated its coasts found a system of kidnapping everywhere
established on a firm basis, and extending in its business relations
far into the interior of the continent; the idea arose how
advantageously the owners of land in the distant East might cull the
costly products of their soil by the hands of slaves; and the kernel
of a single plant, the coffee berry, became the means of uniting the
remotest lands, and had the effect of throwing a large portion of
the human race into subjection to their fellows, whilst Christian
nations became the patrons and the propagators of the disgraceful
traffic. It has therefore happened in the natural course of things that
philanthropists have first applied their energies to the slave-trade
in the West; the East has still to tarry for an enlightenment which is
destined in the fulness of time to gladden a future chapter of history.

[Sidenote: ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE-TRADE.]

Half the task is now accomplished. Two great nations have speeded on
the work: England in theory, North America in practice. For scores of
years the ships of Great Britain cruised about the shores of Africa for
the purpose of stopping the export of slaves; but although the outlay
was great, the result was small; nevertheless a path was broken for the
realisation of the ideas of Wilberforce, for whose noble endeavours
the best sympathies of all nations had so long and ardently been
enlisted. Finally the civil war broke out in North America, and great
and glorious as had been the services rendered by England in the cause
of humanity, honour greater and more glorious still was won in long and
bloody strife by her brethren beyond the ocean. Now the black man has
free footing in all parts of the Western Continent; and in the Eastern,
the seed of liberty, sown scarcely ten years back, is already bearing
its first fruit on African soil; the export of slaves from the coasts
of Guinea, which in the middle of the last century amounted to 100,000
annually, exists no longer, and the shores are enlivened by populous
towns, the inhabitants of which are engaged in peaceful traffic; all
the work of a few years, and all owing to the happy termination of the
American civil war.[92]

Our age is now anxiously awaiting the fulfilment of the great work,
but the other half of the task has still to be accomplished; the dark
cloud of barbarism still lowers over the innermost regions of Africa,
and Egypt, the oldest and richest land of the historical world, has its
mission to perform. A great revolution has already begun, and although
at present it affects only the surface, there is scarcely any reason to
doubt that progress, alike spiritual and humane, will ultimately claim
the victory. But the task is gigantic, and no one can be more sensible
of this than the traveller who has lingered at any of the sources of
the slave-trade. One point there is in which all are unanimous—that
from Islamism no help can be expected, and that with Islamism no
compact can be made. The second Sura of the Koran begins with the
prescription: “To open the way of God, slay all those who would slay
you; but be not yourselves the first to commence hostilities, for God
loves not sinners; slay them wherever you meet them; drive them away
from the spot from which they would drive you, for temptation is worse
than a death-blow.” Islamism, the child of the deserts, has everywhere
spread desolation, and wherever it has penetrated, deserts have
arisen bleak and bare as the rocks of Nubia and Arabia, and under its
influence every nation from Morocco to the Isles of Sunda has congealed
into a homogeneous mass; inexorably it brings all to one level,
remorselessly obliterating all traces of nationality or race.

That Islamism is capable of progress is merely a supposition that has
been hatched up from books, and has no foundation; there is likewise
nothing to prove that it has fallen to decay; its condition appears to
be that of one perpetual childhood. Its votaries are like the germs of
vegetation that slumber in the sands of desert valleys; a drop of rain,
a mere nothing, may call them to a transitory life; the plants bear
their flowers, produce their fruit, then die away, and all becomes once
more buried in a long deep sleep.

[Sidenote: EGYPTIAN APATHY.]

Another question then arises as to whether Mohammedans might be roused
to civilisation by adopting Christianity. If a European residing
in Egypt were asked whether it would be possible for the people to
adopt European customs without forsaking Mohammedanism, he would at
once answer in the negative; and if he were further pressed with the
inquiry whether there was any prospect of the religion ever changing,
his reply would again be that there is not the remotest hope of such
an issue. And this opinion would seem to be borne out by what has
been experienced in Algiers, where the gentle administration of the
French Government, with its “Bureaux Arabes,” has always prevented the
colony from becoming rich and populated by Europeans. The European
costume is the only one of our civilised institutions that has hitherto
been adopted in Egypt, but underneath this external garb there still
lurks the old feeling of hatred for the Franks, a feeling which is
perceptible only to those who penetrate into their domestic circles.

But whether Egyptian officials wear an Oriental dress or a European
dress, their ideas about slavery and the slave-trade are stereotyped;
it is the fashion in good society to have a house full of slaves, and
their presence is considered indispensable. Now if a man were to keep
two, or even three, properly paid servants, and see that they did their
duty with order and punctuality, he would be making some advance in
civilisation: but now, what is the impression on entering the homes
of the rich Egyptians? There, comfortably settled on the divan, sits
the master of the house, silent and contemplative, a man of peace and
quietness; nothing seems to disturb his composure; all the nobler
passions are quite alien to his nature; hunting and fishing, riding and
boating, are quite unknown to him, and he never puts himself to the
trouble of taking a walk. If he is thirsty, he has only to raise his
hand and say, “Ya, wolled” (here, fellow!) and in an instant his slave
hands him a glass of water; or if he wants to smoke or to go to sleep,
it is “Ya, wolled” just the same: everything is done for him, and he
does not stir an inch to help himself. Now supposing some fine day all
these “wolleds” were to take themselves off, what would befall these
fine gentlemen on their divans, and where would they turn for all the
trifling comforts of their daily life? Their sluggish nature would be
invaded by a feeling of disquietude that they had never felt before;
they must either die or become new creatures. This description, which
applies to every rank of life, is only a reflection of the lethargic
apathy that prevails in every Oriental State; an inference necessarily
follows that _of equal importance with the abolition of slavery is the
dawn of a new life in the East_. If this regeneration is impossible,
then slavery is a permanent necessity.

The kind treatment of slaves, and the comfortable lot that they enjoy,
in comparison to the hardships of their rude, rough homes, are pleas
that have often been urged in extenuation of slavery in the East. It
is certainly true that the contrast in slave-labour is very great, and
whilst Europeans have looked upon their slaves as little better than
useful domestic animals, the Oriental slave is a mere object of luxury.
Only a small proportion of the slaves that are brought annually from
the interior are employed in field-labour in Egypt, though rather more
frequently in the Nubian provinces. The European, although he deprived
the negro of his ordinary rights, still compelled him to become a
useful member of society; the Oriental allows him a portion of his
rights, but trains him up to general incapacity; the occupations of
filling pipes, handing water, boiling coffee, and holding a salver,
are not employments worthy of a man. Slavery in the East, in spite of
its good living and fine clothes, is not at the best a very enviable
position; but such as it is, it is purchased by these poor creatures
at a heavy price; they have to submit to a long and painful journey
across the deserts; they have to suffer the extremest hunger and
fatigue, and to be exposed to the contagion of disorders, such as
their fresh blood, pure with the simplicity of a life of nature, is
especially liable to imbibe, and altogether they are doomed to be
subject to hardships so severe as to decimate their ranks.

[Sidenote: DEPOPULATION OF AFRICA.]

But the worst feature in the case is the depopulation of Africa. I have
myself seen whole tracts of country in Dar Ferteet turned into barren,
uninhabited wildernesses, simply because all the young girls have been
carried out of the country. Turks and Arabs will urge that they are
only drawing off useless blood, that if these people are allowed to
increase and multiply, they will only turn round and kill one another.
But the truth is far otherwise. The time has come when the vast
continent of Africa can no longer be dispensed with; it must take its
share in the commerce of the world, and this cannot be effected until
slavery is abolished. Sooner than the natives should be exterminated,
I would see all Turks, Arabs, or whatever else these apathetic nations
may be called, vanish from the face of the earth; they are only
occupying the place of their betters; and negroes, if they only work,
are their betters.

I travelled in the Nile countries from 1863 to 1866, and again from
1868 to 1871; on my first journey I visited all the great markets of
the slave-trade, Cairo, Siout, Djiddah, Suakin, Matamma in Gallabat,
Khartoom, and Berber; in my second I reached its sources in the
lands to the south of Darfoor and Kordofan. Throughout my wanderings
I was ever puzzling out schemes for setting bounds to this inhuman
traffic. The traveller in these lands is kept in one perpetual state
of irritation by what he sees; on every road he meets long troops of
slaves; on the sea and round the coasts he comes in contact with Arab
boats crammed full of the same miserable creatures.

Whilst exploring the coasts of Nubia and Egypt in 1864 and 1865, I
spent eight months on the Red Sea. The slave-trade there was then in a
flourishing condition, but the accounts[93] of what I saw attracted no
more attention than the complaints made by my predecessors. The consuls
in Djiddah and other ports on the Red Sea were afraid to take any
measures that were not sanctioned by European policy, and consequently
Arabs were allowed to carry on that which amongst Spaniards and
Portuguese would have been considered piracy. Not a man-of-war was to
be seen cruising on the water, and yet one single gunboat would have
sufficed to keep a check upon the intercourse between the opposite
coasts, and to make the slave-trade an impossibility. A change has now
been effected, and all the Powers that are interested in the matter
have done their utmost to remedy the evil; but even on the Red Sea
there still remains much to be done, and even now there are far too
many secret landing-places and loopholes which escape the vigilance of
the authorities.

Many a time, under the consciousness that alone I was utterly powerless
as a vindicator of humanity, I have restrained myself from the
temptation to rescue slaves with my own hands. Once, between Khartoom
and Berber, a lot of slaves was being brought from Kordofan, and I cut
in two the leather thongs that bound them to their sheyba; but an ugly
squabble was all that resulted from my interference. At other times I
have vehemently remonstrated with the slave-dealers, when I have been a
witness of any cruelty in their treatment of their property; but all to
no purpose. It may therefore be imagined that a traveller in his fury
and disgust will be led to devise all manner of schemes for eradicating
the system, and although, when weighed in a calmer frame of mind, many
of his plans will seem chimerical and even impracticable, yet it
may be that their very apparent impracticability at least proves the
gravity of the situation, and shows the inadequacy of the present means
of suppression. But such as my schemes were, I will venture to indicate
them here. They contain no shifts, no compromise, no expectation of
better times, no dependence on Egyptian officials, not even a hope
of assistance from the Viceroy, who, however good his intentions may
be, has not the power to do much. A talent for organisation is not
sufficient to rouse whole nations from their apathy; no small hero can
do the work, but it would require a powerful reformer like Peter the
Great, and a people like the Russians, or the Japanese of the present
day, who would easily imbibe the ideas of the West. I beg therefore to
submit the following as _suggestions towards the suppression of the
slave-trade_; they embody at least the ideas of one who has been a
witness of what transpires at the sources of the slave-trade in Central
Africa.

[Sidenote: SUGGESTIONS FOR SUPPRESSING THE SLAVE-TRADE.]

1. To place the country under an Administration formed on the European
principle, and to appoint Europeans to fill the highest posts; the
French have officials who understand the language, and the English have
their experience to show them how Mohammedans may be pressed into the
service of a well-regulated State. This plan would please the fellaheen
of Egypt, whilst the rest of the people would be indifferent to it, as
long as they were not severely taxed.[94]

2. To appoint commissioners of slaves, who should travel about the
provinces, and keep watch upon all the highways of the slave-trade;
they should be invested with the fullest authority, and rank above
the local officials. They should have the power of arresting and
imprisoning every slavedealer, of sequestrating his property, and
of equipping expeditions for the purpose of conveying the rescued
slaves back to their own homes. As these expeditions would have to
traverse hostile territory, they must necessarily be armed, and the
commissioners of course should be perfectly incorruptible, inasmuch as
they would be constantly exposed to the temptation of accepting bribes.

3. To place the negro-countries that suffer most from the slave-trade
under the protection of European Governments, by founding States
expressly for their defence. The splitting up of African nations into
small States has ever been the main hindrance to the introduction of
civilisation amongst them; it is only large Powers, and such as are
competent to organise themselves, that offer a likely foundation for
the establishment of any thriving commerce or traffic.

4. To introduce a Chinese immigration into the Mohammedan countries of
Africa, of which the population gives little attention to agriculture.
The four millions of Egyptians who are available for agricultural
occupations are insufficient to do justice to the richness of the soil;
but Chinese labourers would thrive well in Nubia, and would certainly,
in the course of a few years, make the culture of the land highly
remunerative.

Under existing circumstances there can be no amelioration in the
condition of the Egyptian States, until the slave-trade is not only
held in check at its sources, but also stopped at its outlets. This
can only be effected by the rich people resigning their slaves and
replacing them by paid servants; the change would doubtless involve
many in a large expense, for they would be still obliged to maintain
their former slaves, the greater part of whom would refuse to leave
their masters; still a great step would be gained if a law could be
passed to give all slaves the right of demanding payment for their
services; such a measure would have the effect of putting a limit
to the number of slaves that are kept, and by forcing the masters
to demand more work from them, would have a tendency to rouse the
Orientals from their humdrum ways. As long as a man retains his slaves
as such, there is nothing to prevent him from making fresh purchases,
so that any other measure than that which I have described would be so
much trouble lost.

[Sidenote: THE VICEROY OF EGYPT.]

That there is any assistance to be expected, under the circumstances,
from the Khedive, is quite a delusion. It is commonly supposed that
the ruler of Egypt is a despot of the purest water; this, however, is
a great mistake. In many respects the Egyptian Government is extremely
mild; criminals and officials who have been remiss in their duty are
rarely severely punished, and the only delinquency that it will not
overlook is the refusal to pay taxes; and even here matters would not
be so bad, if it were not that the disorderly administration involves
the officials in making encroaching demands. The Viceroy has little
power over the higher authorities, who manage to sneak behind the
Crescent of Stamboul; he is no more than a Viceroy; the high-sounding
Persian title of Khedive which he assumes is in reality no more than a
title. He can only issue his orders, and then all boats that come down
the White Nile are confiscated; and in Khartoom especially, where it is
good policy to make a stir in the eyes of the European residents, all
kinds of repressive measures are proposed; in displaying their zeal in
the cause, the authorities often commit acts of the greatest injustice,
and Mohammedans sometimes find their wives and families sequestrated as
slaves, merely because they happen to be black. Such proceedings afford
a fine opportunity for the subordinate officials to make a harvest
out of the injured people by extorting ransom-money, and by making
other extortionate demands. I can myself bear witness that several of
my servants were deprived of their wives and children and put into
chains, and I had to write to the Minister, and accompany the people to
Cairo myself, before I could get justice done to them and their rights
restored; and all this was only for the purpose of throwing dust in my
eyes and inducing me to report upon the wonderful energy displayed by
the local government in Khartoom.

But meantime, the caravans find their way just the same as ever through
Darfoor and Kordofan to Dongola and Siout, and still they are brought
from Abyssinia through Gallabat to the Red Sea, and no one sees them
but the traveller. In Kordofan, where there is a resident Egyptian
Governor, the trade is truly enormous, and there is now as well the
slave-trade from Darfoor. Siout, the common termination of the roads,
is the only place where this trade can be cut off, and that could only
be effected by the heaviest sacrifices for the commerce of Egypt. The
conquest of Darfoor by the Egyptians would consequently be a great step
in advance; but I most emphatically protest against Ismail Pasha being
allowed to send Turkish troops into the heathen negro-countries, for it
may literally be said that “where they have been, no grass will grow.”
The kindest thing that the enlightened ruler of Egypt can do for these
lands is to leave them alone; they are not productive, and if they
were, they are too far from the navigable rivers to make any of their
products that are in less demand than ivory of any mercantile value.

FOOTNOTES:

[82] The Baggara butter is of an excellent quality. It is
packed in wicker baskets, which are made impervious
to damp by being smeared inside with the pulp of the
balanites.

[83] The Fakis who come from Darfoor are probably the only
people in the world who still practise the abominable
business of emasculating boys, and eunuchs are rapidly
becoming more rare.

[84] These belong to the tribes of the Sehre, the Nduggoo,
the Fakkerey, the Baddoh, and the Tabboh, &c.

[85] A rottoli is equal to 15 oz. 13 drs. avoirdupois.
Thirty rottoli is here a somewhat imaginary weight,
being not worth more than eighteen Egyptian rottoli.

[86] The portrait on the following page is that of a
Babuckur slave bound by a leather rope. Her piteous
expression of countenance shows her distress at her
condition.

[87] The accompanying illustration represents one of the
daily scenes in my travelling life, and may serve to
give an idea how slavery degrades a woman almost to a
level with the brutes. A newly-captured slave, with
the heavy yoke of the sheyba fastened to her neck, has
been sentenced to work at the murhaga, whilst a boy,
who has been placed as a spy to keep a constant watch
upon her conduct, holds up the yoke in order that it
should not interfere with the freedom of her movements.

[88] I should point out that the total number of the
soldiers maintained in the Bahr-el-Ghazal district by
the twelve great mercantile firms in Khartoom amounts
to 11,000. I have here given the lowest computation.

[89] This word must not be confounded with Nubian, a word
which has come down from antiquity, and which, like
the term Egypt, did not originally apply to the
inhabitants of the Nile Valley.

[90] If this account of slave capture in the time of
Mehemet Ali should appear incredible, I would refer
the reader to a book that contains the narrative of an
eye-witness: Pallme, ‘Travels in Kordofan,’ London,
1844.

[91] Under the most Christian-minded Popes of the eighth
century, slave-markets and the slave-trade flourished
unhindered, not only in Italy, but in Rome itself.

[92] I would refer especially to the district of Lagos,
where the advance has been rapid to a degree hitherto
unheard of in the history of the continent. In 1871
the entire commerce of the British possessions on the
West Coast amounted to 2,556,000_l._, and may at the
present time be estimated at 3,000,000 sterling.

[93] Detailed accounts appear in the ‘Zeitschrift für
Allgem. Erdkunde.’ Vol. xviii. 1866.

[94] The long possession of almost sovereign rights enjoyed
by European consuls in the East has given the people
a confidence in their sense of justice, and would
prevent them from fearing any encroachment on their
religious opinions.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Tidings of war. Two months’ hunting. Yolo antelopes. Reed-rats.
Habits of the Aulacodus. River oysters. Soliman’s arrival.
Advancing season. Execution of a rebel. Return to Ghattas’s
Seriba. Disgusting population. Allagabo. Alarm of fire. Strange
evolutions of hartebeests. Nubian cattle raids. Traitors
among the natives. Remains of Shol’s huts. Lepers and slaves.
Ambiguous slave-trading. Down the Gazelle. The Balæniceps again.
Dying hippopotamus. Invocation of saints. Disturbance at night.
False alarm. Taken in tow. The Mudir’s camp. Crowded boats.
Confiscation of slaves. Surprise in Fashoda. Slave caravans on
the bank. Arrival in Khartoom. Telegram to Berlin. Seizure of my
servants. Remonstrance with the Pasha. Mortality in the fever
season. Tikkitikki’s death. Θάλαττα. θάλαττα.

The first boats had reached the Meshera early in the year, and the
number of soldiers in the Seriba kept continually increasing by the
arrival of fresh contingents from Khartoom. The firms of Ghattas and
Kurshook Ali seemed both to have a sharp look-out for business, for one
of them had collected forty and the other seventy-eight fresh idlers
as recruits. Their arrival gave new life to the Seribas; friends and
relatives who had not met for years exchanged greetings and recounted
mutual experiences, whilst news from Khartoom was eagerly circulated
and as eagerly received.

For myself there was a collection of little notes sent by a friend at
Khartoom that could not do otherwise than excite my keenest interest.
They were six months old, but not the less on that account did they
stimulate my curiosity: in them I read, in sentences that were almost
as crisp and brief as telegrams, of the startling events of the
previous autumn. Naturally I turned to my letters from home, hoping to
gather further particulars of the strange occurrences that had thus
been partially unfolded, but I found that these letters had all been
written a year ago, whilst peace still prevailed throughout Europe,
and that they only referred to ordinary and commonplace topics. So
incomplete, therefore, were the intimations that I received of all that
had transpired since November 1869, that the events all remained an
enigma to me which I could very imperfectly comprehend. It is true that
I had come across slave-traders in the west who had recently arrived
overland from Khartoom, and who had plenty to tell of what was going
on in the Soudan, but not a syllable fell from their lips about the
great war of the Franks, for who besides myself was interested in the
least in the fall of the Emperor of the French, or who cared either to
hear or to relate the victories of the Germans? Although when I visited
Khartoom many months had elapsed since the fall of Magdala, yet near as
it was to the seat of war, the intelligence of the Abyssinian campaign
even then had scarcely reached the town.

Meagre as were the details of my latest intelligence, it may be
imagined that they roused me to the greatest excitement, so that it was
with the most feverish expectation that I awaited the arrival of a son
of Kurshook Ali, who would bring definite tidings as to whether there
was peace or war in Europe.

As it had been my intention to return home immediately after my
Niam-niam tour, I had given no orders in the previous year for any
quantity of fresh stores to be sent me from Khartoom; consequently the
boats that now arrived had brought me nothing beyond the few articles
that I knew would be necessary on my passage down the river; these
inconsiderable things, meanwhile, had been left at the Meshera; but
after the hardships of the last few months, I felt that the possession
of the merest trifles would be an incalculable boon to me. Pending the
arrival of this little addition to my present means, I had still to
endure some weeks of poverty; then for a short period after receiving
it I enjoyed a brief season of comparative comfort until once more,
when the scanty stock was exhausted, I relapsed for the rest of my
sojourn in the country into a state of destitution more distressing
than ever.

The two months that I spent in Khalil’s huts were passed almost
entirely in hunting. Not only was the abundance of game about the
valley of the Dyoor a great inducement to sport, but such was my
nervous condition that continual exertion was the only thing that
made my life endurable. I found walking to be the best antidote to
depression and the most effectual remedy for headache and languor; and
it was only during the hours that I passed in the wilderness that any
of my former energy returned. Whenever I found myself within the walls
of my hut I was conscious of nothing but weariness and dejection and
was only fit for lounging on my bed; it was but rarely that my love of
sketching from nature in any degree diverted me or gave me its wonted
amusement.

[Sidenote: ANTELOPE-HUNTING.]

Khalil had lent me a capital gun, a weapon specially suited for
antelope-shooting, that did me good service. During the months of
March and April I brought down as many as five-and-twenty head of the
larger kinds of game, including amongst them specimens of nearly all
the different species of antelopes that the fauna of the country could
boast. The number of caama and leucotis antelopes appeared little short
of inexhaustible. The flesh of the leucotis served as a substitute for
beef and mutton, both of which at that time were exceedingly scarce in
all the Seribas. I had no butter or lard of any description, but the
meat was very palatable when simply boiled in water. The lean goats’
meat, with its soapy flavour, was the only alternative, and that after
awhile became utterly loathsome to me. For a long time I had had no
vegetables at my meals, and indeed for months I had lived without any
vegetable diet at all with the exception of some sorghum cakes.

During this period I met with an antelope (_A. arundinacea_) of a
species that I had never seen before. The Bongo called it “yolo,”
and although it appeared to me to differ from the leucotis merely by
having horns of about one-third the length, the natives insisted that
it was quite distinct; upon closer investigation I could not help
acknowledging that the people were right, and that several marks of
distinction did really exist: in the first place, the head of the
“yolo” is all of one colour; in the next, it is deficient in the black
stripe along the hind leg which is always seen in the leucotis; and
the lower joints in the hind legs are never black, but of the same
brown colour as the rest of the body. Again, the two animals are
distinguished by their habit, for while the “yolos” are found only
in pairs frequenting the bush forests in the vicinity of the rivers,
the leucotis are observed in groups (sometimes even in large herds
of several dozen), and haunt, not the forests, but the open valleys
through which the rivers flow. It was highly interesting to notice the
keen accuracy with which the instinct of the natives had taught them
to discriminate between species of which the general resemblances were
so predominating; the droppings of the animals as they move from place
to place are quite sufficient to enable these observers of nature to
distinguish one kind of antelope from another.

[Illustration: Hunting reed-rats.]

[Sidenote: HUNTING REED-RATS.]

I was informed that the end of February was the best time of the year
for hunting reed-rats (_Aulacodus Swinderianus_). Accordingly one day
I arranged an excursion to the Dyoor, and engaging a number of natives
who were used to the sport to bring their lances and to beat up the
game, I set off under their guidance to the spot that they considered
the most promising. At that season of the year, when all the grass was
so thoroughly dry, it did not seem as though it could be a matter of
much difficulty to kill almost unlimited numbers of these reed-rats,
if only they could be got at; and so in fact it proved: in the course
of the day we killed no less than ten, but nearly all of them were so
damaged by the merciless use of the lances or by the teeth of the dogs
that they were of no use at all for any scientific purpose. The method
of hunting, it must be confessed, is somewhat rough. As soon as a spot
is discovered frequented by the animals, a ring of the tall grass is
set alight, so that escape is rendered impossible, and every one of the
poor brutes within the circle of flame is compelled to show itself. The
reed-rats invariably keep in concealment until the very last moment,
and when finally they make an attempt to escape they get their feet so
scorched and their coats so singed that it is very difficult to secure
a perfect specimen; they are in this respect like the wild hares of
the deserts, which are subject to the delusion that however close at
hand then pursuers may be, they may still be safe by remaining quiet
in their hiding-places; as soon as they are obliged to quit them they
get killed by stones and clubs. In many parts where the grass that had
survived the steppe-burning was unusually thick, the Dyoor had only to
thrust in their spears at random and they had every chance of spearing
one of the reed-rats. The case is pretty much the same in the various
pools full of fish left by the subsidence of the river.

The Aulacodus finds a habitat in all the tropical regions of the
continent; it is ordinarily found in the neighbourhood of brooks and
rivers, burying itself in deep holes amidst the reeds; when, however,
it is in search of its food it will wander away to a considerable
distance from its place of concealment, and thus allow the hunters
a chance of killing it. The larger rivers are the natural channels
for the wanderings of the creature, its movements in the water being
assisted by its hind feet being furnished with webs; but these webs,
it is to be observed, are not perfectly developed; they do not stretch
across from toe to toe in straight lines, but go in curves that vary
considerably in their stretch. On account of this peculiarity Th. von
Heuglin has suggested that the reed-rat found on the Gazelle River
should be classified as _A. semipalmatus_, to distinguish it from the
species of the Zambesi and Gambia, which is entirely wanting in the
webbed foot.

A full-grown reed-rat is never less than twenty inches in length, but
a third of this must be assigned to the rat-like tail, which is coated
over with thin hair, nearly black on the top and light grey underneath.
The snout, throat, breast, and belly are covered with hair almost as
prickly as the bristles of a young hedgehog, light grey in colour; on
the back and sides the colour is shaded down to a brownish hue, that
is to say, the grey hairs are tipped with a lightish tan-brown. In
February the half-grown animals shed their bristles and acquire an
entirely new coat. The skin is about an eighth of an inch thick, but is
quite soft, and may easily be torn; it is lined with a uniform layer
of fat. The meat is excellent when roasted; it is rich, and without
being sweet and insipid like that of the rock rabbit, it is free from
any unpleasant flavour; in quality it is about equal to poultry, whilst
in taste it may be described as being intermediate between veal and
pork. As a cloven-footed animal, without horns and non-ruminant, the
Nubians of course consider it to be unclean; but the Mohammedans of
the steppes and deserts are not so scrupulous; to the Baggara and the
Foorians a roast reed-rat is as great a delicacy as a hare is to the
Bishareen and Hadendoa. Amongst the natives of the Nubian towns and
Nile-valley the Far-el-boos (as the reed-rat is called in Arabic) gives
rise to a good deal of mutual banter, and in times of dearth they
jocosely charge one another with eating reed-rats on the sly.

[Illustration: Far-el-boos. (_Aulacodus Swinderianus._)]

[Sidenote: THE FAR-EL-BOOS.]

The food of the Aulacodus consists, I believe, of the aromatic
rhizomes of certain kinds of grass that grow in the depressions of the
rivers; but as I only judge from the green finely-minced particles that
were contained in the stomach, I am unable to speak positively on this
point. The natives esteem the contents of the stomach as a special
delicacy; and my dogs, that were generally dainty enough to reject rats
and mice, greedily devoured all the entrails.

Tikkitikki, armed with his bow and arrows, was an eager participator in
our sport. He declared that reed-rats are never found in the land of
the Monbuttoo, but are perfectly well known to all the Niam-niam, who
call them “remooh,” or “alimooh.” In common with many other Africans,
the Niam-niam often adopt the practice of burying their stores of
ivory (either as a protection from the disasters of war or from the
chance of fire) in the damp soil of the swamps, which are the haunts
of the Aulacodus; the ivory forms just the substance that meets the
requirements of the animal for sharpening and grinding down its front
teeth, and consequently gets gnawed in every direction.

Khalil required 300 bearers to convey his stores from the Meshera,
but as these could not be collected in a day, and as the prevailing
scarcity made it impossible to maintain any others beyond the soldiers
that were already in the Seribas, the new-comers were turned out to
pick up what they could for themselves from amongst the neighbouring
Dinka until the entire troop could be got together. A good many days
elapsed before the great caravan was complete; and, in the meantime,
the soldiers who had already started were having continual conflicts
with the Dinka, who were resolved not to part with their corn without a
struggle.

[Sidenote: DIFFICULTIES OF TRANSPORT.]

On the 4th of March 200 of Ghattas’s Bongo bearers arrived at the
Seriba on their way to carry corn to the Turkish camp. All their loads
put together would hardly have amounted to twenty ardebs. Hopelessly
stupid are the people; it roused my indignation to think how, in spite
of the hard and level roads that were established during the dry
season, they had never introduced a single vehicle of any description
into the country. Thirty hand-barrows or three bullock-waggons would
have amply sufficed to convey the whole of the corn, and yet they
employed these 200 bearers, who, during the twenty-four days that they
would be on their journey to their destination and back, would, at the
very lowest computation, consume as much as forty ardebs of durra,
just double the quantity they had to deliver. The extortions of the
Government are thus, in the course of the year, three or four times as
great as they need be; the troops may require some 600 ardebs of corn,
but in procuring this, at least another 600 ardebs would be wasted,
to say nothing about the reckless and lavish expenditure of time and
strength which is thrown away upon the proceedings. I cannot help
repeating these details, in order to show to what a senseless system
of robbery these negro-countries are exposed as soon as ever they come
within the grasp of Mohammedan rule.

In March the natives employ themselves in fishing. Towards the middle
of the month the numerous backwaters and swamp-channels that have been
left by the Dyoor are separated into independent basins by means of
dams, that may be seen thrown up in all directions across the intricate
ramifications of the water; when these basins have been thoroughly
drained, the fish are left lying above, or just embedded in the mud
and slime, and may easily be taken with the hand. All the inhabitants
of the district were in some measure concerned in the fishing of the
Dyoor, and it afforded me a pleasant diversion, when I was out on my
hunting-excursions, to stop awhile and watch the artifices by which
they contrive to entrap the fish.

At the part of the river which, being deep, was frequented by
hippopotamuses, the right-hand bank was more than fifteen feet high,
and rose perpendicularly from the water; the upper section of the
soil of the bank was a ferruginous clay which went down to a depth
of eight feet, below which was a broad white stripe some four feet
thick, resting upon the gneiss that apparently was the substratum of
the entire alluvium of the river-valley. The white stripe of the soil
had a chalky look, and contained fragments of quartz; it consisted of
a crumbling product of felspar, such as may frequently be seen, under
similar circumstances, in the hollows of other river-courses and brooks
throughout the country.

In all parts of the dry sandy bed may be found the shells of the
river-oyster (_Etheria Cailliaudii_), which is wanting in none of the
affluents of the Upper Nile, and is known to the Niam-niam as the
“mohperre.” In the deeper parts of the bed of the Dyoor these oysters
exist in groups, adhering firmly to blocks of swamp-ore that, having
become detached from the top of the banks, have fallen into the river,
and so are permanently under water. While the Etheria is young, the
shell is almost circular, but as it increases in age, it becomes
elongated and irregular, and occasionally attains the extraordinary
length of eighteen inches. The flavour of this mollusk is rather sweet
and mawkish, and to me particularly unpleasant.

On the 20th, my temporary abode was very considerably enlivened by the
arrival of Soliman, the owner of the Seriba, the eldest son of the late
Kurshook Ali. He was quite a young man, and entirely inexperienced in
the management of the extensive property that he had recently inherited
from his father. It is matter of notoriety that whenever an Oriental
proceeds on his travels he takes a large supply of his luxuries with
him; thus it happens that his valuable baggage, consisting of clothes,
weapons, and harness, as well as his horses, makes it especially worth
while to waylay him and plunder him of his wealth. From this disaster
Kurshook Ali had been spared during his life, but no sooner was he
dead than, as I have already had occasion to mention, his successor
in office appropriated all his effects and proceeded to dispose of
them in the open market to the best bidders. It was on this account
that the son of the deceased Sandjak had been induced to undertake
this laborious journey in person, and he arrived at the Seriba with
the double purpose of saving whatever residue there might be of his
father’s property and of exacting an account from Ahmed Aga of what
already had been sold.

[Sidenote: SOLIMAN.]

With much pleasure I still remember my first meeting with Soliman, and
can yet recall the eager curiosity with which I turned the conversation
to the position of the European Powers. As he was the chief of a great
mercantile firm, and consequently associated with the more educated
class of Khartoomers, I quite hoped that he would be able to give me
some decisive political intelligence; but all the information that I
could obtain from him was that when he left Khartoom in January, no
announcement of peace had reached that town.

Old Khalil, who had never been out of the negro-countries for fifteen
years, was just as ignorant of political matters as the lowest of
his countrymen; not only had he to ask what was the name of the
Governor-General of Khartoom, but he seemed to be quite unconscious
that Egypt was in any degree an independent country. Most of the people
were quite unacquainted with the name of the Khedive in power, and
I heard some of them ask what the Pasha was called in Cairo; of one
thing, however, they said they were perfectly sure, namely, that Abdul
Aziz was the sovereign who ruled over all the believers, and that all
the kings of the Franks were his vassals; it was true, they confessed,
that the Emperor of Moscow, some years ago, had the audacity to pretend
that he was independent; but now, thanks to the fidelity of the great
Sultan’s vassals, he was very glad to eat humble-pie, just as it had
happened before with Buonaparte, the “Sultan-el-Kebir.”

Such was the ignorance of the Soudanese; and the few sentences that I
have recorded will serve for an epitome of their political knowledge.
When they heard me talking to Soliman about peace and war in the
land of the Franks, they wanted to learn what sort of people the
Prussians (the “Borusli”) were. Soliman answered them with the greatest
_naiveté_. He described Prussia as a “country with very few people,”
meaning to imply that it was about the smallest of the great Powers.
“And have these few people,” they went on to inquire, “made the great
Emperor of the Franks a prisoner? Do you mean that they have taken the
Emperor, whose likeness is stamped on all the gold money?” “O yes,”
answered Soliman, “he was a big rascal; and heaven has rewarded him
according to his deserts.”

It was on the 30th of March that the people arrived from the Meshera,
and no one can tell how delighted I was to get the few stores that
had been sent me from Khartoom. Provided as I was with a new stock
of paper, I again set about my botanical work which had so long been
suspended, and renewed my investigations with redoubled ardour; it was
the opening of the third spring-tide in which it had been my singular
happiness to gather the tribute of Central Africa to lay upon the altar
of science. The period of my return to Europe was getting near, and
I was eager to make a collection of all the bulbs and tubers that I
could; I was very careful to dig them up before they had thrown out any
of their fresh shoots, and was very successful in procuring a large
number, which I deposited in Berlin in a state of perfect vitality;
amongst them were many rare plants, and particularly some specimens
of the _Cycadeæ_ from the country of the Niam-niam. In consequence,
however, either of the defective construction of the plant-houses, or
of the inexperience of the gardeners, many of these subsequently died.

[Sidenote: METEOROLOGICAL EVENTS.]

The meteorological events of 1871 deviated in some degree from their
normal rule. The seasons were not at all sharply defined, as they had
been in the two preceding years. Throughout March there was a perpetual
struggle between directly contrary winds; first the north-east wind
contended violently with the south-east wind, and only desisted to
commence a conflict just as furious with the south-west. About the
middle of the month the days were extremely hot, and the dominant
north-east wind raged with almost the intensity of a simoom, that
threatened to convert the land into a desert. On two separate days
there were some slight showers, but the first heavy rain was that which
fell on the 31st. In April there were six slight falls, and four very
heavy falls, of rain, the south-west wind being generally prevalent,
although there were several days when the rude, rough Boreas still
struggled vehemently for the mastery. In May there were five showery
days and three that were thoroughly wet.

The reappearance, for the first time, of various plants and animals
marked, as it were, the separate stages of the advancing season, and
prompted me to make a sort of farmer’s calendar of the different
events. It was on the 16th that the wind suddenly veered to the
south-east and some drops of rain fell, the first that had occurred
since the passing shower on the 11th of February. The direction of the
wind seemed now to be settled, and in the course of the night I heard
a cricket chirping on the grass. Before many days had past the cicadas
put in an appearance, and in the middle of the day the air resounded
with their shrill tones, clear almost as the ring of metal, At the
beginning of April the humidity of the atmosphere rapidly increased,
whilst the heat remained intense, the average temperature being not
less than 81° Fahr. This unhealthy concurrence of hot atmosphere with
damp had the effect of bringing out an angry eruption all over my body,
causing an irritation so violent that my rest at night was completely
destroyed. Heat and moisture together are never beneficial to the
health, except there is a complete protection from the chance of taking
cold.

The 3rd of April, three days after the first decidedly heavy rain,
is noted in my register as being the first day upon which the floor
of my hut was covered with those uncomfortable visitors which never
wait for a welcome; I mean particularly those strange _Arachnidæ_, the
Galeodes (or scorpion-spiders), with their great venomous mandibles,
and the whole family of scorpions proper. My poor negroes were terribly
punished by them, and from head to foot there was not a portion of
their body that enjoyed immunity from their attacks. It was after a
very heavy rainfall that, on the evening of the 18th, I saw the first
winged white ants (sexual males) issue from the clay pyramid of their
“gontoor.”

Towards the middle of the month the stores of corn were so nearly
exhausted that Khalil was obliged to decline showing any hospitality
to the Gellahbas that passed through the Seriba. Soliman himself was
compelled to quit the place, and his old Vokeel took a trip to his
Bongo Seribas to gather together what additional supplies he could. For
myself, I was suffering privation almost as severe as I had endured in
the previous May upon the shores of the Nabambisso, on some days being
unable to obtain a single handful of durra-corn; still, distressing
as my condition was, I could not at once make up my mind to retrace
my steps to Ghattas’s head Seriba. I was quite aware that I should be
better off there for provisions than anywhere else, but the disaster of
the 2nd of December had left such an impression upon my mind that the
very name of the place was hateful to me; and I felt that I should for
my own part much prefer to drag out four months in a starving Seriba
and a barren wilderness, rather than to enjoy meat and milk at the cost
of residing amidst the scenes of my disappointment and misfortune.

[Sidenote: AN EXECUTION.]

One day, just about this time, a former Bongo chief, who had escaped to
the mountains on the southern frontier, having been captured after a
long pursuit, was brought back by Kurshook Ali’s people to the Seriba.
He had clandestinely murdered many of the Nubians, and had instigated
the natives to revolt against their conquerors. His condemnation
and execution now followed forthwith. I heard nothing of the matter
until it was all over, but my negroes, who had been witnesses of the
whole proceeding, gave it as their opinion that the punishment was
well-deserved. They described to me the mode of carrying out the
sentence. The delinquent, they said, had been taken out a considerable
distance into the forest, dragging after him a long sheyba that was
fastened to his neck; all at once he had been felled to the ground by a
tremendous blow, directed just below the knees, from one of those huge
swords four feet long that have been made for centuries at Solingen
near Düsseldorf, and are still manufactured for the especial use of the
African Bedouins and Arabs; two more heavy blows had then cut off his
arms; and last of all, the attack had been levelled at his head, which
was hacked, rather than cleanly severed, from his body.

There are always to be found in this country those who are singularly
dexterous in the use of the swords that I have mentioned. They use them
for performing amputations in their own barbarous way. If mortification
from an ulcer or any other cause seems to be setting in, so that a hand
or a foot is deemed incurable, the limb is fastened to a block of wood,
and with one blow of the sword the part affected is severed almost
within a hair’s breadth of the part that is sound. Instances far from
unfrequent have been known where the sufferers have had the fortitude
to perform the operation, hazardous as it is, upon themselves. The
custom is of great antiquity amongst the Arabs, and probably is not to
be disassociated from the ancient Gospel precept, “If thy right hand
offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee.”

Reluctant as I was, I found myself compelled at last to yield to the
urgent solicitations of my hungry Bongo and to set off for Ghattas’s
Seriba. We started on the 21st. We found the Dyoor, which had risen
during the last few days, somewhat subsiding again, but the whole
breadth of the bed was still covered with water, although only two and
a half feet deep; in the two previous years it had not begun to rise
until a fortnight later. Aboo Guroon’s Seriba was just in the same
miserable condition of want as the district we had left, and we found
the natives eagerly engaged in collecting the bitter berries of certain
kinds of the Capparideæ, of which, after soaking them repeatedly in
boiling water, they manage to make a sort of pap. The berry of the
_Boxia octandra_ is likewise used for a similar purpose, having been
first dried in the sun to remove the astringent cotyledons and then
pounded in a mortar.

As we continued our journey, we could not be otherwise than surprised
at the large flocks of maraboo-storks that we saw congregated amidst
the burnt grass in the low steppes adjacent to the bed of the Molmul:
most probably they were searching for the bodies of the snakes,
lizards, and mice that had been killed in the recent conflagration.

With the 4th of May came the commencement of the general sowing of the
crops; men’s hearts revived, and they began to anticipate happier times.

[Sidenote: MISERY AND DIRT.]

Ghattas’s granaries still contained some corn; and a small number of
cattle, the residue of his once enormous herds, was yet to be seen in
his farmyard. But in spite of my sense of these material comforts, the
crowded Seriba was most repulsive to me: changed indeed it was in a
way; but in its essential character it had remained true to its old
composition. Certain it was that the swarms of rats that had infested
the huts and undermined the soil had been all but exterminated by the
fire; the crowds of red-headed lizards (_Agamas_) that used to frisk up
and down the old rotten palisade were no longer to be seen; the horned
beetles (_Scarabæus nasicornus_) and their grubs that had once covered
every dung-heap were totally annihilated; it was man alone who was
unchanged, and the same revolting forms, infected with syphilis, scabs,
and boils were spreading their putrid miasma around. Tottering along
betwixt the crooked, tumble-down straw hedges and amidst the heaps of
garbage and of refuse might still be seen the wretched fever-stricken
beings, with shorn heads covered with scabs and every limb a mass of
festering matter; everywhere prevailed the moaning and groaning of a
lingering death; the people were not so much what they were accustomed
to call themselves and each other in their curses, “dogs and the
sons of dogs,” they were rather sons of _dirt_, born and bred in an
atmosphere of abscess and corruption.

I found my former garden ragged and barren as a wilderness; the only
surviving memorials of what it had been were the tomatoes flourishing
persistently upon the fertile soil, and the sunflowers that gloried
in the tropical sun. Some of the sunflowers rose in great pyramids
of foliage to a height of over ten feet, and with their huge disks
of blossoms ever turned towards the full glare of light, presented
an appearance that was very striking. In this strange world their
splendour could not but irresistibly attract me, and I often sat
down on the ground before them, and while gazing on their brightness
recalled the fading memories of the past and conjured up anew the
recollections of my distant travels, looking back upon the scenes I had
passed, as a traveller looking through the back window of his carriage
might take a retrospect of the country he had left behind.

[Illustration: BONGO VILLAGE, NEAR GEER.]

In order to obtain a short reprieve from my melancholy and unpleasant
surroundings and to finish up with a few days’ quiet enjoyment of
nature, I resolved, towards the end of May, to take a farewell trip to
Geer, and so to pay a parting visit to the Bongo. I had become quite
attached to this people, and had determined to take a young Bongo boy
back with me to Europe. My new _protégé_ was named Allagabo.[95] He
seemed to me to be sharper and quicker in ability than many of his
race, even of those who were considerably older than himself; and I
intended him accordingly to be properly educated; his family lived in
Geer, and whilst I was there I received various visits from his father,
uncle, and aunt, to all of whom I made what presents I could, and
immortalised them in my portfolio. They no longer exercised any right
over Allagabo, as he had been stolen from his home a long time before
by the Dinka, and disposed of by them to the controller of the Seriba
in exchange for some cattle; the boy’s good fortune was quite a matter
of congratulation to his relatives, as they were fully convinced he
would lead a much happier life with me than he could possibly expect in
his savage home. His mother, some years previously, after one of the
regular cattle-exchanges, had been carried off as a slave to Khartoom;
she was the only one of his relations for whom Allagabo had any
yearning, and later, when he had grown accustomed to his European life
and begun to confide in me, he used to tell me that the image of his
mother haunted him in his dreams and hovered over him with tears in her
eyes. I made many inquiries for her in Khartoom, but never succeeded
in learning anything about her. For his father, Allagabo had little
affection or respect. When I was making presents I had noticed that he
was always urging me to hand my gifts by preference to his uncle,
saying that his father did not deserve them, and upon my asking him
the reason, he told me that once during the time when he was suffering
from one of the diseases of childhood, his father had been utterly
indifferent to his condition, but that his uncle had helped to nurse
him with the greatest tenderness.

[Sidenote: A BONGO VILLAGE.]

In Geer I made numerous additions to my album. Here, too, I sketched
the accompanying illustration of the village life of the Bongo. The
huts and granaries are built round an immense butter-tree. On the left
is one of the memorial graves which I have already described,[96] and
on the right, a woman pounding corn in one of the native portable
mortars; in the foreground are three Bongo women in attitudes in which
they may frequently be observed, the sitting figure having a child
suspended from her back in a leather bag; all round the village are
sireh-fields, with their crops standing some twelve feet high, whilst
the harp-shaped frames for drying the sesame rise up conspicuously
above them.

The appearance of the first new moon after my return from my pleasant
little trip was saluted with the usual nonsensical firing of guns,
which threatened to cause a disaster similar to that over which I have
already poured out my Jeremiad. It was the same old story; bullets
were whizzing and whirring in all directions, when one of the straw
roofs took fire; the flames were extinguished with much difficulty,
and before any very serious damage had been done, but my powers of
endurance were exhausted; I would not abide the chance of further
repetition of the peril, and insisted upon preparations being at once
taken in hand for sending off the boats to Khartoom.

An accidental circumstance favoured my design. Intelligence had
casually reached me that Abdel Mesih, a son of Ghattas, was making
a tour amongst the eastern Seribas of the Rohl, and intended very
shortly to come on to us. To me the information was very opportune, as
it gave me a handle, which I did not fail to use, to induce Idrees,
our controller, to hurry on his movements in my behalf. I made him
understand how much worse it would be for him if Abdel Mesih should
arrive before I had taken my departure; for most certainly if I had
the chance I should report upon the negligence that had caused the
burning-down of the Seriba, and should demand compensation for all my
losses. The consequences, I warned him, would be that his master would
at once remove him from his post, and that he would have to go back to
his place in Khartoom a poor beggarly slave. My threats answered their
purpose admirably; they put Idrees into a frightful state of alarm;
he lost no time in pushing matters forward, and on the 4th of June
everything was ready for the march to the Meshera.

[Sidenote: THE DINKA COUNTRY.]

Our party consisted of fifty soldiers and rather more than 300 bearers.
We started along our former road to the north-east, through the
low-lying country of the Dinka, which I had previously traversed during
the month of March; but so advanced was the season now that the whole
region presented quite a new aspect. Bulbous plants of every variety
shed their enlivening hues over the splendid plains, which were adorned
by noble trees, park-like in their groupings. There was a descent in
the land, but it was scarcely perceptible. We were only aware that we
were approaching the limits of the rocky soil, when, on emerging from
the bush, we saw stretching far before us the first great steppe that
marked the commencement of the Dinka country. Scattered at intervals
over the plain were some very remarkable groves. These were not only
singularly compact, but their outline was as sharply defined as if it
had been drawn by compasses, each cluster seeming to form itself around
some unusually tall tree that was a common centre for the rest. The
fantastic forms of the wild Phœnix and the candelabra-Euphorbia were
the most conspicuous amidst these striking groups.

Our first night-camp was pitched at a deserted murah belonging to the
Ayarr tribe. The deep holes that remained where wells had formerly
been sunk, allowed us to make a very interesting inspection of the
character of the soil; we had advanced exactly 7000 paces from the
extremity of the rock, and on looking into the holes I could see that
the ferruginous swamp-ore was here covered by a homogeneous layer of
grey sandy soil, ten feet in thickness. These steppes are scarcely at
all above the level of the Gazelle,[97] and, consequently, from July
to the end of the rainy season they are constantly under water; traces
of the inundation were apparent in the empty shells of the water-snail
(_Ampullaria_) that were scattered about, and in the pools I found some
of the little tortoises (_Pelomedusa gehafie_, Rüpp.) that have their
home in the Gazelle itself.

On the following day we crossed the territory of the Dwuihr; the
country retained the same character of level steppe broken by clumps of
trees, but in consequence of the recent showers the roads in parts had
become quite marshy. There were many detached huts scattered about.

As we advanced, our attention was attracted by a herd of hartebeests
sporting together scarcely 500 paces from our path, and apparently
quite unconscious of the proximity of a caravan nearly half a league
in length. So regular were their evolutions as almost to suggest the
idea that they were being guided by some invisible hand; they ran in
couples like the horses in a circus, and kept going round and round a
clump of trees, whilst the others stood in groups of three or four
intently watching them; after a time these in turn took their place,
and, two at a time, ran their own circuit in the same fashion. How
long these movements might have continued, I cannot say; but my dogs
soon afterwards made a dash in amongst the antelopes and sent them
flying in all directions. The circumstance that I have now related may
appear somewhat incredible; but I can only say that I had ample time
to witness it, and that I was as much surprised at it as my readers
can possibly be. I can only imagine, in explanation, that it was
pairing-time, and that the animals were blind to all external danger.

I remembered that I had witnessed something similar, three months
previously, upon the Dyoor. A party of three of us were rambling over
a plain covered with short grass, when we saw two little Hegoleh-bocks
(_A. Madoqua_) chasing each other upon one side of us; they kept up
that peculiar grunting that belongs to their kind; a moment after, and
they were on the other side of us; in another moment they were back
again; and by watching them we found that they kept making a circle
round the spot on which we were standing, and, although we shouted and
tried to scare them, they persisted in twice more performing their
circuit about us.

Our next task was to cross a swampy brook overgrown with the
Habbas-mimosa, and the Bongo bearers made a diversion in the day’s
proceedings by instituting a _battue_ in the long steppe-grass in which
they succeeded in killing four ichneumons.

The following section of our march was through bush-thickets abundant
in pools; and, to judge by the numerous traces that we noticed, it must
have been a district that was much frequented by elephants.

The ever-recurring swamps seriously impeded our third morning’s march,
which was across the forest of the Alwady. The first villages that we
reached belonged to the district of Teng Teng; here we deviated from
the road that led directly towards the Meshera, and turned eastwards
through more populous parts, hoping that provisions might be foraged
up with less difficulty for the large troop of bearers. The natives,
according to their wont, withdrew as we approached, so that, although
the region was really well cultivated and thoroughly inhabited, it was
now quite deserted; and the large murah belonging to a Dinka chief
named Dal Kurdyook was reduced to a condition hardly better than a
wilderness, except that the well-kept soil was covered with some
hundreds of the great wooden pegs that are used for tethering the
cattle.

[Sidenote: A CATTLE-RAID.]

Hardly was the baggage down from off the bearers’ backs before the
command was issued for a cattle-raid. Off and away was every one who
had arms to carry. Unless meat could be had, the bearers must starve.
There was no corn left; and as to grubbing in the earth for roots, the
days’ journeys were far too arduous to permit any extra fatigue for
such a purpose. Meat must be got.

It was a strange sensation, and sufficiently unpleasant, to find myself
left alone with my few helpless servants in the deserted murah; the
Dinka might fall upon us at any moment; and against their thousands
what chance had we? In the course, however, of little more than an hour
my suspense was at an end. The marauders had made good use of their
time, and now came back in triumph with fifteen cows and 200 sheep
and goats. The leader of the band had the reputation of being one of
the most adroit hands at cattle-stealing that the Khartoom companies
had ever had in their service, seeming to put his party, almost by
instinct, upon the right track for securing their prey. His experience
made him quite aware that the bulk of the herds had all been cleared
far away from the murahs and despatched to the most inaccessible of the
swamps of the Tondy; they had had twenty-four hours’ start, and it was
useless for a caravan, with its own baggage to look after, to think of
going in pursuit of them. Still, one thing was certain; although all
the large herds were gone, yet there must have been cows with their
calves that were left behind for the support of the households that
were in hiding close in the neighbourhood; against these the plot was
laid, and succeeded by a very simple stratagem. The marauders marched
out a little way to the south, turned short off into the forest, and
then, having arranged themselves in a semicircle embracing the murah,
proceeded in unbroken line right through the bush, driving everything
before them. The result was, that within half a league of the place of
encampment the whole of the reserve of Dal Kurdyook’s cows, as well
as other animals, fell into the hands of Ghattas’s people. A portion
of the sheep and goats was spared to be driven onwards with us to the
Meshera, but all the rest were slain and consumed off-hand the very
night on which they were captured. Such a wholesale slaughter, or
such a lavish feasting, as took place in Dal Kurdyook’s murah I never
witnessed before or since. When we took our departure on the following
morning the layer of white ashes that covered the ground was literally
dyed with the blood of the victims.

On the fourth day of our march, at a spot near the residence of Kudy,
we re-entered our former road. The country was alternately wood and
cultivated land. It was enlivened by numerous hamlets, and altogether,
although it was neither rocky nor undulated, it had a general aspect,
to which the detached clumps of trees contributed, not unlike Bongoland.

[Sidenote: KUDY AND TAKE.]

Kudy was a Dinka chief, a close ally of Ghattas’s marauders, and one of
those characters, not uncommon in Central Africa, who have gained an
inglorious notoriety for their treachery and infidelity to their own
countrymen. How he managed to maintain his position in the place after
his confederates had taken their departure, I cannot imagine, as his
authority did not in the least extend beyond the immediate vicinity.
The incidental meeting of our party with their ally of course put
it into their heads to set out on another cattle-raid, and Kudy was
appointed to the command. He had only to lead them out for a couple of
leagues to the south-west of his residence to a region where Ghattas
some years ago maintained a Seriba, and the object was effectually
accomplished. Quite early in the day they came back with an immense
number of sheep and goats, and nearly every bearer had a kid upon his
shoulders. The quantity of corn, however, was very insignificant.
Everything was done in the quietest way possible; there was not the
least excitement. The people were so accustomed to these raids that the
execution of them was quite a matter of routine.

On the following morning we reached the murah of Take, another Dinka
chief, and while we made a halt our people effected yet another raid.
Just as on the previous day, the produce in the way of corn was next to
nothing, but large numbers both of goats and sheep were driven in, the
whole of which were killed and cooked forthwith for the benefit of the
soldiers and bearers.

In spite of the good understanding that existed between the Khartoomers
and both these chieftains, every village throughout the district was
utterly deserted, and with the exception of the families of Take and
Kudy themselves we did not see a single human being.

The march of the sixth day led us through the territory of the Rek, a
district remarkable for its wide sandflats. All along I had noticed
that the pasture-lands were cropped so closely by the cattle that it
might almost be fancied that they had been mown with a scythe; but
although the grass was so short, it had, in consequence of the recent
rains, a bright green look that was very refreshing.

Next day at noon we encamped beneath the sycamore by the wells of
Lao. By some misunderstanding my people had come to the conclusion
that we were to halt here for the night. Accordingly they unpacked
all my things, and I was about settling myself in an empty hut when
the tidings were told that the caravan had already renewed its march.
By the time that I was again prepared to proceed the whole train was
out of sight, so that under the guidance of a man who knew the proper
route we had to follow in the rear as rapidly as we could. While we
were on our way a violent storm came up from the west, and, bursting
over our heads, soon put the whole locality under water. To add to our
discomfort, our road happened to be through a wood and it was growing
dusk, so that we had to go on stumbling into the continuous puddles,
that were often very deep. In getting through these places I was at a
great disadvantage; my heavy boots prevented me from keeping up with
the light ambling trot of the natives, as I had constantly to stop and
pull on first one and then the other, as they were half-dragged off my
feet by the tenacious clay. Except a genuine African traveller, no one
could imagine what ponderous lumps of mud stuck to the soles.

As we toiled along through the miry forest in the thick of the
drenching rain, we were startled by hearing a volley of firearms in the
direction of the caravan. Pitiable as had been our plight before, we
felt it was worse than ever now; we did not doubt but that the party in
advance had been attacked in retribution by the ill-treated Dinka. With
throbbing hearts we reached the outskirts of the wood, every moment
expecting to catch sight of the enemy who would cut us off at once
from the main procession; but seeing the fires burning hospitably in
the neighbouring villages we were soon reassured, and on rejoining our
people found that the sounds that had alarmed us had been caused simply
by the soldiers discharging their guns so that they might not become
foul through the charges getting damp.

[Sidenote: REMAINS OF SHOL’S VILLAGE.]

Early next day, the eighth of our march, long before reaching the
spot, we saw the tall columns of smoke rising from the murah of
our old friend Kurdyook, the husband of the murdered Shol, and on
approaching had the satisfaction of surveying the scene, which had
long been strange to us, of a well-filled cattle-park. The very lowing
of the herds was a welcome sound. Kurdyook himself soon appeared, and
expatiated in very bitter terms upon the lamentable fate of his wife.
We passed close to the spot where her huts had stood, and where our
caravan had been so hospitably entertained on taking leave of her. The
great Kigelia alone remained undisturbed in its glory; the residence
was a heap of ashes, and there was nothing else to tell of poor old
Shol’s former splendour than the strips and shreds of a great torn
spirit-flask.

Very little rain had fallen here. The river had scarcely risen at all;
we were able consequently to get down with dry feet to the edge of
the Meshera, where, about noon, we were conveyed across to the little
island upon which the Khartoomers pitched their camp. Between Ghattas’s
Seriba and this spot I had counted 216,000 paces, showing that the
entire distance we had walked was about eighty miles.

Except that the island which served for the landing-place had been
completely cleared of trees the general appearance of the Meshera
during the last two and a half years had undergone little alteration;
the growth of the papyrus had diminished rather than otherwise, and the
ambatch was still altogether wanting.

Not only attacks from the neighbouring tribes of the Afok and Alwady,
but continuous outbreaks of cattle-plague had decimated the herds left
by Shol, and there had been a great scarcity of corn. Boats, however,
laden with durra had arrived from Khartoom, and, as a considerable
portion of it was consigned to me, I availed myself of the opportunity
to start a flourishing business with the natives, who in exchange for
the corn brought me milk enough to make into butter. The milk was
conveyed to me in separate bottle-gourds, and in order that I might get
five pounds of butter I had to dole out in small quantities as much
corn as would fill a wine-cask.

Before setting sail I had a good deal of squabbling with Ghattas’s
people. I did not want to be brought into the close quarters which the
limits of a boat’s deck necessitated with either lepers or slaves,
and protested that if I did not shoot the first that came on board,
I would at least take good care to report them to the Government. My
endeavours in this way to secure my comfort were very far from being
so successful as I wished. I had previously written to Kurshook Ali to
engage the same boat which had brought him into the country to carry
me back to Khartoom, making it an express stipulation that the boat
should not convey any slaves. We had come to terms, and everything was
apparently quite settled, when it turned out that the boat was not
going to return until late in the year. To defer my departure so long
was out of the question. Slaves or no slaves, it was all-important
to me to be at Khartoom as soon as possible; and when I found that
Ghattas’s people were this year going to ship only a limited number, I
came to the resolution that, under the circumstances, I would take my
chance with them. I knew that Sir Samuel Baker was on the Upper Nile,
and did not doubt that his presence would have the effect of making
the Government take the most strenuous measures against any import of
slaves. I represented as strongly as I could to the people the danger
they were incurring by having such property on board, but I might just
as well have remonstrated with the winds. In spite of all I could say
twenty-seven slaves were shipped, not avowedly as slaves, but so nearly
in that capacity as at once to bring them under suspicion of being
destined for the market. Undesirable as their company was, still I was
thankful to be free from contact with any lepers; making the best,
therefore, of an unpleasant business, I went on board on the afternoon
of the 26th of June.

[Sidenote: MY OWN SLAVES.]

I confess that I felt a little tongue-tied, through not being myself
entirely free from blame. I could not deny that I had three slaves
of my own: these were Tikkitikki the Pygmy, Allagabo the Bongo, and
Amber the Niam-niam. The other Niam-niam youth I left behind in the
Seriba, after having gained him his freedom and seen him duly admitted
into the Mohammedan sect by circumcision, the only means by which his
social position could be secured. With regard to these lads I profess
I had not the least squeamishness in carrying them away with me, and I
felt none of that misgiving which other travellers have expressed when
they have been tempted to a like proceeding. I felt that I could not
leave them to a doubtful fate after they had been serving me faithfully
for nothing, and attending me for two whole years in the desert; and
I had no kind of idea that I was reducing myself to the level of a
slave-dealer by determining to retain them and to introduce them to
European civilisation, for if I left them behind I was quite aware that
they would be immediately consigned to the ordinary lot of slavery.
Rather was I disposed to compare myself with those noble-minded
Orientals who, although they look upon the regular slave-dealer’s
calling as the vilest and most degrading of all professions, yet do
not consider the possession of slaves to be in itself illegitimate or
inconsistent with the purest morality.

It may be well to transcribe here my original diary of the passage down
the Gazelle. It will not, I believe, be without interest, if it be only
to show that the length of the river has hitherto been much exaggerated
on all previous maps:—

“_June 26th._—Sailed for about four hours, until evening,
along the Kyt. A light breeze. The Kyt channel from eight
to ten feet deep; its bottom one great mass of valisneria.

“_27th._—Dull, cloudy day. A contrary N.N.E. wind has
prevented us from getting beyond the mouth of the Dyoor.

“_28th._—Slow progress, on account of the continued N.N.E.
wind. In the afternoon a more favourable breeze. The boat’s
crew affirm that after passing the mouth of the Dyoor the
water becomes whiter. I cannot say that I can perceive
any difference; the water is clear and colourless, and
free from any flavour of the swamps, as if it had been
distilled. Elephants to be seen marching about the shore,
considerably in front of the demarcation line made by the
trees. To the west of the channel are columns of smoke from
some adjacent murah. Acacia-forests (none of the trees
more than forty feet high) line both sides of the land
subject to inundation; nowhere do these exceed a width of
two miles. We proceed through clumps of ambatch, and make
a wide bend to the west round an island which the sailors
call Gyerdiga. Continued sailing at night under a good west
wind.

“_29th._—Quite early at a place where the river is not 500
feet across; the contracted spot enclosed by bush-forest.
Soon afterwards we pass the mouth of the Bahr-el-Arab.
There is a favourable breeze from the south-east. In the
afternoon we reach the first Nueir villages. Some of the
great _Balæniceps rex_ are standing on the white ant-hills;
have they been there ever since I last saw them there,
two years and more ago? At evening a negro is dying from
dysentery; according to custom, the poor creature is thrown
overboard before life is really extinct. I fear my own
feelings of satisfaction at getting home again make me
somewhat callous to this horrible proceeding.

“_30th._—A clouded sky, and the wind contrary. We
heave-to in a backwater that is overgrown with grass for
seventy-five feet from either bank: a solitary doom-palm
marks the spot. Again sail on throughout the night, the
breeze having once more become favourable.

[Sidenote: DOWN THE GAZELLE.]

“_July 1st._—At 8 o’clock A.M. pass the Nueir villages, at
which we stayed for a day on our passage out. It is unsafe
to land now; a Vokeel of Kurshook Ali’s was murdered not
long since. The district is full of bushes; white ant-hills
and low acacia-hedges are frequent. A hippopotamus is
leaning against a great stem upon the bank; we approach
within thirty paces of the flesh-coloured brute, but it
makes no attempt to get into the water. A bullet is fired,
but seems to take no effect; the great beast totters about
as though it needed support. All the crew assert that it
is hopelessly ill, and has gone, as usual, on the land to
die; no one, however, explains why it still stands upright.
Large herds of Dinka cattle graze on the northern bank.
Towards evening we arrive at the lake-like opening by the
mouth of the Gazelle, where the water is a mile across. A
tremendous gale gets up from the N.N.E.; the boat is tossed
about on the muddy bottom of the river and dashed against
the floating islands of grass. The mast and sail-yards
creak as though they must snap in two; the boatmen shout
according to their habit, but the Reis cannot join them
because he is hoarse with a cold. There is an incessant
invocation of the saints of the Nile: a mingled outcry of
‘ya Seyet, ya Sheikh Abd-el-kader, Aboo Seyet, ya Sheikh
Ahmed-el-Nil.’

“_2nd._—A good west wind carries us betimes past the mouth
of the Gazelle. I am surprised to find the floating grass
in almost the same condition as in the winter of 1869;
the water, however, is higher now, and consequently the
entrance to the main stream is easier.”

From these contemporary notes it will at once be inferred that the
entire length of the Gazelle was navigated by us in four and a half
days of very moderate sailing. If the stream is from 136 to 140 miles
long, as nearly all the existing maps have represented it, we must
have sailed at a rate of about thirty miles a day; but for my part I
feel sure that this estimate of our speed must be reduced by at least
one-quarter.

All the comfort of our future progress was marred by the incessant
plagues of flies, and all its regularity was interrupted by the same
grass-obstructions that had impeded us on our former voyage. Before we
could enter the side channel known as the Maia Signora, we had to make
our way by a narrow cut of water that rushed along like a wild brook,
and forced itself through the masses of vegetation on either side of
the river, which here, I should suppose, was about half a mile wide.
The depth of the fairway varied from six feet to eight feet, and the
boat nowhere touched the bottom. The best plan that I can devise for
rendering the stream permanently navigable would be to erect dams at
certain intervals, and it appears to me that the small depth of water
would render the project far from difficult of accomplishment.

We spent the 3rd in sailing along the channel of the Maia Signora,
which was 300 feet in width. Towards evening we re-entered the
main-stream. At night we continued to drift along, borne gradually
onward by the slow current; but, in case of being surprised by sudden
gusts of strong wind, we did not hoist a sail. The open channel was
about 500 feet in width, but on the northern side it was divided from
the actual shore by a growth of grass that was scarcely less than
3000 feet across. The morning brought us in sight of the huts in the
Shillook district of Tooma.

[Sidenote: A HYÆNA-WOMAN.]

A horrible association will be for ever linked to my memories of that
night. Dysentery is a disorder to which the negroes, on changing their
mode of living, are especially liable, and an old female slave, after
long suffering, was now dying in the hold below. All at once, probably
attacked by a fit of epilepsy, she began to utter the most frightful
shrieks and to groan with the intensest of anguish. Such sounds I had
never heard before from any human being, and I hardly know to what I
may compare them, except it be to the unearthly yells of the hyænas
as they prowl by night amidst the offal of the market-towns of the
Soudan. Beginning with a kind of long-drawn sigh, the cries ended
with the shrillest of screams, and were truly heartrending. From my
recess in the bow of the boat, that was partitioned off by a screen
of matting, I could not see what was going on, and conscious that I
was quite powerless to accomplish any alleviation for the sufferer, I
tried to shut out the melancholy noise by wrapping myself closely round
in my bed-clothes. Presently I was conscious of the sound of angry
voices; then came a sudden splash in the water amidst the muttered
curses upon the “marafeel” (the hyæna), and all was still. The inhuman
sailors had laid hold upon the miserable creature in her death-agonies,
and, without waiting for her to expire, had thrown her overboard. In
their own minds they were perfectly convinced that she was a witch or
hyæna-woman, whose existence would inevitably involve the boat in some
dire calamity.

It was about five o’clock in the afternoon when we passed the mouth of
the Gazelle. Nearly all next day a contrary north wind prevailed, and
was so strong that we were obliged to put in upon the right-hand bank.
From the spot where we lay-to I counted as many as forty villages on
the opposite shore. The district was called Nelwang, and the whole of
the surrounding region belonged to the once powerful Shillook chieftain
Kashgar, now no longer formidable, as he had lately been reduced to
subjection and his entire dominion converted into a regular Egyptian
province. Of this altered condition of things we had received no
intelligence, and consequently we were in no little trepidation when
we saw the natives crossing the river in large numbers just above the
place where we were stopping. But we need not have been under any
apprehensions. It was soon manifest that the Shillook party had no
hostile intentions, and were gathered together merely for a hunting
excursion in the forests beyond the right bank of the river.

On observing the crowd of Shillooks our first impulse had been to make
our way into the middle of the stream. It was past noon, and we were
intently watching the movements of the hunters, when our attention
was suddenly attracted by four men, dressed in white, shouting and
gesticulating to us from the opposite bank. We could not imagine what
Mohammedans were doing in this part of the country, and without loss
of time pushed across and took the men on board. They proved to be
Khartoom boatmen sent by the Mudir of Fashoda to inform us that his
camp was close at hand, and that it was requisite for all boats coming
down the river to stop there and submit to a rigid investigation as to
what freight and passengers they were carrying. Our long sail-yard had
been observed from the camp, and active measures had been immediately
taken to prevent us from continuing our voyage without undergoing the
prescribed scrutiny.

We had not long to wait before an unaccustomed surging of the water
made us aware that a steamer was quite close upon us; in a few moments
more the “Remorquer,” No. 8, was alongside, and a rope thrown out by
which we had to be towed down to the camp.

However elated I might be at the prospect of being now so soon restored
to intercourse with men of a higher grade than those with whom I had
been long associated, I must confess that this our first greeting from
the civilized world rather jarred upon my sensibilities, and in the
sequel resulted in some bitter disappointment.

For nearly a couple of hours we were quietly towed down the river
until, at a spot just above the mouth of the Sobat, we came to a side
arm of the main stream, called the Lollo. Turning off abruptly into
this we found ourselves proceeding in a direction that was quite
retrograde as compared with that in which we had just come, and in
another couple of hours reached the Mudir’s temporary camp in the
district of Fanekama. His force consisted of 400 black soldiers, fifty
mounted Baggara, and two field guns.

The Lollo flows almost parallel to the main-stream at a distance
varying from a quarter of a league to two leagues. It is said to be
about eighteen leagues in length; its current is extremely weak, and
its depth from ten to fifteen feet; in many places it was from 800 to
1000 feet in width, and consequently at this season as wide as the
main-stream itself: during the winter, however, it dwindles down to a
mere shallow khor.

[Sidenote: FANEKAMA.]

The little steam-tug was an iron boat of 24 horse-power: its sides
were so eaten up by rust that they were like a sieve, and the decrepit
old captain, almost as worn-out as his vessel, was everlastingly
patching them up with a compound of chalk and oil. Besides this,
there were lying off Fanekama three Government boats and two large
“negger” belonging to Agahd’s company that had come from the Meshera
Elliab on the Bahr-el-Ghazal; these had been conveying no less than
600 slaves, all of whom had been confiscated. Notwithstanding that Sir
Samuel Baker was still on the upper waters of the river, the idea was
quite prevalent in all the Seribas that as soon as “the English pasha”
had turned his back upon Fashoda, the Mudir would relapse into his
former habits, levy a good round sum on the head of every slave, and
then let the contraband stock pass without more ado. But for once the
Seriba people were reckoning without their host. The Mudir had been
so severely reprimanded by Baker for his former delinquencies that
he thought it was his best policy, for this year at least, to be as
energetic as he could in his exertions against the forbidden trade;
and his measures were so summary, and executed with such methodical
strictness, that unless I had known him I could scarcely have believed
him to be a Turk. He was now especially anxious to show off his
authority before me as the first witness who would have the power of
reporting his activity and decision to the world at large.

The first thing was to get all slaves whatever carried on shore,
that is to say all who were black and who were not Mohammedans; no
distinction was made in favour of such as had come after having already
been in Khartoom, although they might have been reported in the list of
the crews that had worked the boats up the river.

Among the 600 slaves now brought in Agahd’s boats there were
representatives of no less than eighteen different tribes. The
small-pox, however, had raged so frightfully among them that fear
of contagion alike for myself and my people deterred me from taking
advantage of the unusual opportunity offered for ethnographical
investigation. It must not be supposed that these 600 slaves had been
the only passengers on Agahd’s boats; in addition to them there had
been 200 Nubians, and thus it may be imagined that the most crowded
cattle-pens could hardly have been more intolerable than the vessels
throughout their voyage.

Many of the black soldiers under the Mudir’s command, recruited as they
had been at Khartoom from slaves previously confiscated, made very
fair interpreters to assist in classifying the new arrivals according
to their race and nationality. Everything about the slaves had to be
registered. Their number, the number of tribes that they represented,
their age, their sex, the way they had been purchased, the place where
they had been captured, the circumstances under which they had fallen
into the hands of the Khartoomers, and all particulars of this sort
had to be entered in a book. Then each of the Nubians was separately
questioned about his own home, his name, his rank, his trade or
profession, the number of his slaves, and the price he had paid for
them respectively; to each of the traders there was then handed a copy
of his own affidavit, to which he was obliged to affix his seal.

[Sidenote: A MINUTE INVESTIGATION.]

An inventory was next taken of all property, so that it might be
retained at the pleasure of the Government, guns, ammunition, and ivory
being expressly specified. The three Arab clerks entered into such
minute details, and made their reports so prolix, that it was necessary
for them to apply an amount of patient industry of which I could hardly
have believed them capable.

Besides these notaries the Mudir kept a number of smiths and carpenters
perpetually employed in the fabrication of the iron fetters and wooden
sheybas to bind the Reis and all the men that were not absolutely
indispensable for the navigation of the boat. Every possible precaution
seemed to be taken, and even seals were made for the use of those who
had none of their own with which to attest their affidavits. It took
two days to complete our inspection; but when it came to an end, three
soldiers were sent on board as a guard, and we were allowed to proceed.
Free from the polluted air of Fanekama, I began to feel that I could
breathe again.

A day and a half brought us to Fashoda, where I was equally surprised
and gratified to hear of a kindness that had been intended to be shown
me. Dyafer Pasha, the Governor-General, immediately on hearing of the
destitute condition in which I had been left by the burning down of
Ghattas’s Seriba, had despatched to me such a munificent supply of
provisions of every description as would have kept me well for months
not only with the means of subsistence, but with many of the elegancies
of a civilised life. Had this liberal contribution reached me before I
left Bongoland, I think I should have been vastly tempted to defer my
return to Europe for another year; but it was not to be; the supplies
had been placed under the charge of a company of soldiers who were
going up the Gazelle to reinforce the troops already stationed in Dar
Ferteet; but the change of wind and the condition of the water had
delayed their progress till it was too late to proceed, and they had
been obliged to stay at Fashoda until the commencement of the winter.

The condition of the unfortunate slaves had become far worse since
their confiscation; the very measures that ought to have ameliorated
their lot had been but an aggravation of their misery. The supply of
corn was rapidly coming to an end; they had, in fact, hardly anything
to eat, and the soldiers on guard never dreamed of making the least
exertion to provide in any way for their needs, resorting to the use of
the kurbatch much more freely than their former masters, who had now
lost whatever interest they might have had in their welfare.

My powers of endurance were sorely tried. Incessant on the one hand
were the murmurs and complaints; incessant on the other were the
scoldings and cursings. If some luckless negro happened to be blessed
with a tolerably good and robust constitution so that he kept fat
and healthy under all his hardships, he was continually being made a
laughing-stock and jeered at for being “a tub;” if, on the contrary,
a poor wretch got thin till he was the very picture of misery, he
was designated a “hyæna,” and perpetually bantered on account of his
“hyæna-face.” I used to have whole kettles full of rice and maccaroni
boiled for the poor creatures, but it was, of course, utterly beyond
the compass of my resources to do much towards supplying their wants.

On approaching the district of Wod Shellay, we perceived countless
masses of black specks standing out against the bright coloured sand.
They were all slaves! The route from Kordofan to the east lay right
across the land, and was quite unguarded; the spot that we now saw was
where the caravans are conveyed over the river on their way to the
great _dépôt_ at Mussalemieh. Once again did the sight remind me of
Katherine II.’s painted villages in South Russia, although this time in
a somewhat different sense.

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL AT KHARTOOM.]

At length towards sunset, on the 21st of July, we reached the
Ras-el-Khartoom. Our entire journey from the Meshera had been
accomplished in twenty-five days, six of which had been consumed
in stoppages at Fanekama, Fashoda, and Kowa. Upon the whole I
congratulated myself on getting so quickly to the end of the trouble.
With a quickened pulse I set out alone on foot for the town. Evening
was drawing on, and although I met numbers of people, there was no one
to recognise me; in my meagre white calico costume I might easily have
passed for one of those homeless Greeks, who, without a place to rest
their heads, have been forced to seek their fortune in the remotest
corners of the earth. I made my way at once to a German tailor named
Klein, who had been living for some years in Khartoom, and by the
vigorous prosecution of his trade had contributed in no small degree
towards the promotion of external culture in the town. He soon provided
me with some civilised garments, and I felt myself fit to make my
appearance before my old friends, at least such as remained, for some I
grieved to learn were dead, and others had left the place.

I found Khartoom itself much altered. A large number of new brick
buildings, a spacious quay on the banks of the Blue Nile, and some
still more imposing erections on the other side of the river, had
given the place the more decided aspect of an established town. The
extensive gardens and rows of date-palms planted out nearly half
a century back, had now attained to such a development that they
could not be altogether without influence on the climate; in spite
of everything, however, the sanitary condition of Khartoom was still
very unsatisfactory. This was entirely owing to the defective drainage
of that portion of the town that had been built below the high-water
level. In July, when I was there, I saw many pools almost large enough
to be called ponds that could never possibly dry up without the
application of proper means for draining them off; stagnant under the
tropical sun, they sent forth such an intolerable stench that it was an
abomination to pass near them. When it is remembered that Khartoom is
situated in the desert-zone (for the grassy region does not begin for
at least 150 miles farther to the south) there can appear no necessary
reason why it should be more unhealthy than either Shendy or Berber;
all that is wanted is that the sanitary authorities should exercise a
better management and see that stagnant puddles should be prevented.

As I have already intimated, I found that not a few of my former
acquaintances during my absence had fallen victims to the fatal
climate; but no loss did I personally deplore more than that of the
missionary Blessing, who died just a fortnight before my arrival;
Herr Duisberg had left Khartoom, and since his departure Blessing had
managed all my affairs, and it was from him that I had received my last
despatches in the negro-countries. I found his young widow perfectly
inconsolable, and the sight of her grief made me feel doubly what a
blank his death had left.

On the day after my arrival I telegraphed to Alexandria to announce
my safe return. The message reached its destination in the course of
two days; the charge for twenty words was four dollars. The telegram
had to be written in Arabic, and in the compressed yet lucid form of
that language ran as follows:—“German Consulate-General, Alexandria.
Arrived July 21st. Telegraph to Braun at the Berlin Academy that he
may inform my mother. Nothing else necessary.” The telegraph had only
been established during the last few months, and as yet was scarcely
in full working order. The officials were young and inexperienced at
their work, and the direct line of communication was broken in two
places by the messages having to be conveyed across the river; as a
further defect, the Morse system was partially in use, and it was only
beyond Assouan that the needle-system had been adopted. Except for the
conciseness of its forms of expression, Arabic is extremely unsuitable
for telegraphy; the deficiency of vowel symbols makes proper names
all but undecipherable to any one who is previously unacquainted with
them. But with all its temporary shortcomings, the establishment of the
telegraph will ever rank as pre-eminent amongst the services rendered
by the Government of Ismail Pasha.

[Sidenote: MY SERVANTS’ DILEMMA.]

Dyafer Pasha, to whom I was so much indebted for his liberal intentions
on my behalf, received me with his unfailing cordiality, and gave me a
lodging in one of the Government buildings that was at his disposal;
but notwithstanding all his generosity to myself I could not feel
otherwise than very much hurt at the unscrupulous manner in which he
acted towards my servants. Their faithfulness to myself had made me
much interested in them, and I now felt intensely annoyed when I found
that, without any communication with me, they had been seized, thrust
into irons, and set to work in the galleys, leaving me with no one but
my three negro lads, and without the services of anybody who knew how
to cook. The fact was that, although I had not been made acquainted
with it, they had been in possession of some slaves on their own
account, representing them as being consigned to their care by friends
in the upper district, who wanted to forward them to their homes. It
was, I found, quite out of my power to prevent the controllers of the
different Seribas all along my route from making presents of slaves to
my servants; any protest on my part was always practically useless,
and only tended to produce an irritating disagreement between us. At
the time of our embarkation at the Meshera I imagined that they were
accompanied only by the wives of two of them, one of their children,
and two young boys who had been so long with them that I quite regarded
them as a recognised part of their belongings; but it turned out in
reality that they had no less than fifteen slaves, which they were
surreptitiously carrying with them. The whole lot were now confiscated
in one common batch; no distinction was made—men, wives, and children
were all included in the general fate. This was as illegal as it was
unjust, for every slave who has borne any children is reckoned as a
wife, although there may have been no regular marriage.

Four separate appeals did I take the trouble to make to the Pasha for
the emancipation of my servants. Even at last my success was only
partial, for I could not obtain the restitution of freedom either
to the women or the children, although their confiscation had been
specially illegal. The Pasha was on the point of starting for Egypt,
but I could not permit any circumstance of the kind to prevent my
doing everything in my power to assist my servants, who had shown
such fidelity for a period of three years. I could not find it in my
heart to leave them to fight out their cause for themselves with the
arbitrary and disorderly administration that I knew well enough would
follow the Pasha’s departure. I resolved, therefore, to take the men on
with me to Cairo. I incurred a considerable extra expense by travelling
with so large a retinue; but I would not be daunted, and after a world
of trouble I succeeded ultimately in obtaining redress for their
grievances.

I told the Pasha that, grateful as I was for all his hospitality
and kindness to myself, I could not help being extremely annoyed at
the trick that had been played me. Nothing, I assured him, could
obliterate the impression that he had looked upon me as an easy dupe:
his proceedings in this respect were quite an insult. I gave him my
opinion that if he wanted to suppress the slave-trade he must see that
the laws were carried out all over the country, and not merely along
the river. Repressive measures, that were enforced at isolated and
uncertain intervals, were of no use at all, and only served to inflame
the population with increased hatred to the Franks. For what good, I
asked him, was it to lay an embargo upon the boats when (to take only
one example) the Mudir of Kordofan quietly allowed the slave-trade to
be carried on in his province to such an extent that in a single year
no less than 2700 slave-dealers had made their way to Dar Ferteet;
and whilst they were there not only had the Egyptian commander raised
no objection to their proceedings, but had so far coalesced with his
officers as practically to become a professional slave-dealer himself.

[Sidenote: EXPOSTULATION.]

The ill-feeling and smothered rage against Sir Samuel Baker’s
interference, nurtured by the higher authorities, breaks out very
strongly amongst the less reticent lower officials. In Fashoda,
and even in Khartoom, I heard complaints that we (the Franks) were
the prime cause of all the trouble, and if it had not been for our
eternal agitation with the Viceroy such measures would never have
been enforced. Yet they need to be instructed that it was never the
intention either of Wilberforce or any of our modern philanthropists
that men should, under any pretext, be robbed of their wives, or
parents of their children, or even that slaves should be wrested from
the hands of the traders merely to be distributed amongst the soldiers,
or to be compelled to become soldiers themselves. And, as I pointed
out to the officials, the very reproaches they made tended to lower
the Viceroy, just because they implied that his commands were only
influenced by external pressure from foreign Powers. I tried further to
make them see that it was quite impossible for any ruler to maintain
proper authority unless his subordinates, whose duty it was to support
him, did their utmost to contribute to his dignity.

On the 9th of August I once again took my passage on board a Nile boat,
this time under more comfortable and less ambiguous circumstances.
With a favourable wind and high water our voyage was very rapid. On
the fourth day we reached Berber. Here I found excellent quarters
in the house of my friend Vasel, and for the first time, after many
months, had the enjoyment of intercourse with a well-educated
fellow-countryman. Vasel had been a benefactor to the land by erecting
a large portion of the telegraph lately opened between Assouan and
Khartoom, and, in spite of his exertions in a climate that had been
fatal to so many Europeans, had hitherto enjoyed unbroken health.

The deaths during the last fever-season had been more than usually
numerous. In Khartoom, in 1870, almost all the resident Europeans had
been fatally attacked, and amongst them Dr. Ori, the renowned Italian
zoologist, after successfully withstanding the deleterious atmosphere
for ten successive years. Soon afterwards Thibaud, the head of the
French vice-consulate, was carried to the grave, followed in the course
of a week by the whole of his family. He had spent forty-three years
of his life at Khartoom; as an associate of Arnaud’s, and in company
with Werne and Sabatier, he had taken part in the memorable expedition
that in 1841 was sent out by Mehemet Ali to discover the sources of
the Nile, and in the prosecution of their task ascended as far as
Gondokoro. To the melancholy death of Blessing I have already referred;
and now, on reaching Berber, I learnt that my old friend Lavargue had
succumbed to fever only a short time before my arrival. He, too, had
been residing for many years in the Soudan.

And now the next to go was my little Tikkitikki. He had for some time
been marked by the unsparing hand of death, and here it was during
my stay at Berber that I had to mourn his loss. At Khartoom he had
been taken ill with a severe attack of dysentery, probably induced by
change of air and very likely aggravated by his too sumptuous diet. His
disorder had day by day become more deeply seated; my care in nursing
seemed to bring no alleviation, and every remedy failed to take effect;
he became weaker and weaker, till his case was manifestly hopeless,
and, after lingering three weeks, sunk at last from sheer exhaustion.

Never before, I think, had I ever felt a death so acutely; my grief
so weakened and unmanned me that my energies flagged entirely, so that
I could scarcely walk for half an hour without extreme fatigue. Since
that date two years have passed away, but still the recollection of
that season of bitter disappointment is like a wound that opens afresh.

[Sidenote: START FOR SAUKIN.]

The other two negro-boys, according to my intention, were to be
playmates and companions for my little Pygmy; but now that he had been
taken from me I took measures to provide for them in a different way.
The elder one, Amber, a true Niam-niam, I left behind in Egypt, under
the care of my old friend Dr. Sachs, the celebrated physician of Cairo;
my little Bongo, Allagabo Teem, was taken to Germany for the purpose of
receiving a careful education.

I was delayed in Berber by the sad circumstances of my little
_protégé’s_ death; but independently of that, my stay was prolonged by
waiting for a courier who, by the orders of his Highness the Khedive,
was on his way to meet me. The German Consul-General Von Jasmund, with
his accustomed solicitude for all who were in any way entrusted to his
protection, had procured me this favour. Fearing that I should be in
want, he had commissioned the courier to bring me money, medicines,
arms, and clothing of all description. Meanwhile I had amply provided
myself at Khartoom with everything of which I stood in need, and was
consequently anxious, if I could, to stop the progress of the envoy.
It was, however, several days, even with the help of the telegraph,
before I could find out how far he had advanced, or could succeed in
countermanding his orders.

On the 10th of September I was ready to start for Suakin. The route
that I took was the same, through the valleys of Etbai, by which I
had journeyed on starting three years previously. My little caravan
consisted now but of thirteen people. By the help of fourteen camels we
accomplished the journey in a fortnight, without any misadventure. Once
again I was in sight of the sea. It was with the truest interest that
I regarded the faithful few that were round about me, and as I looked
down from the summit of the Attaba, 3415 feet high, that enabled me
to gaze beyond the intervening stretch of land to Suakin and to catch
the extended deep-blue line of sea, my feelings could be understood by
none except by a wanderer who, like myself, had been lingering in the
depths of an untraversed country. On the 26th of September I embarked
at Suakin, and after a pleasant voyage of four days landed at Suez; by
the 2nd of November I had reached Messina.

Thus, after an absence of three years and four months, I was once again
upon the soil of Europe.

FOOTNOTES:

[95] Allagabo is the Arabic rendering of the Greek Theodore
(gift of God); by the Dinka the lad was called “Teem,”
_i.e._ “a tree,” because his native name was “Lebbe,”
which is the Bongo word for a species of mimosa.

[96] _Vide_ vol. i., chap. vii.

[97] The barometer gave an altitude of 1396 feet here, and
about the same at two other points on our route to
the Meshera, but as these were only single readings
I cannot vouch for their accuracy. Readings at the
Meshera taken in 1869, and repeated in 1871, gave 1452
feet as the height there.

APPENDIX I.

[Illustration]

TABLE OF HEIGHTS OF VARIOUS POINTS VISITED
DURING THE JOURNEY.

(COMPUTED BY DR. WILHELM SCHUR.)

During my journey I made use of three aneroids, all of which I brought
back safe to Europe; they were subsequently most carefully tested under
various conditions of temperature and pressure by Dr. Wilhelm Schur,
who undertook to estimate and reduce to standard measure the various
observations I had made. I here append only the final results of his
investigations, but for more complete details I would refer to the
Journal of the Geographical Society of Berlin (vol. viii., p. 228),
where he has described at length his method for ascertaining the proper
corrections of my registries, after allowing for the variations from
the mean condition of the barometer.

I very rarely failed three times in the course of a day to note the
readings of the aneroids, but these numerous observations were only
entered in my diary, and consequently perished with the rest of
my papers in the conflagration of the 2nd of December, 1870; only
those observations, therefore, that were made subsequently to that
ill-fated-day, and a few others that were sent home promiscuously in my
correspondence, were available for Dr. Schur’s deductions.

But altogether the following figures will suffice to give very
approximately a true conception of the heights of the regions that I
visited, and it may be of some interest to compare the results with
those obtained during the geometrical survey that is requisite for the
formation of the proposed railway between Suakin and Berber.[98]

In the approximate heights given below, Dr. Schur has reckoned 25
meters as being equivalent to about 82 English feet.

A.—POINTS BETWEEN THE RED SEA AND THE NILE ON THE ROAD
FROM SUAKIN TO BERBER.

-----------------------------------------------+--------------------
| Height above
| the sea.
+---------+--------
| Meters. | Eng. ft.
| |
1 Three hours W. of Suakin. | 212·1 | 695
2 Tamarisk wood, 7½ hours W. of Suakin. | 544·2 | 1785
3 Wady Teekhe, 11½ hours W. of Suakin. | 618·9 | 2030
4 First Attaba (pass), 13 hours W. of Suakin. | 924·5 | 3033
5 At the pools in the valley between the | |
two Attabas. | 913·5 | 2996
6 Second Attaba, highest pass. | 1041·7 | 3415
7 Upper Wady Gabet, below the Attaba. | 925·8 | 3037
8 Singat, summer camp in the great Valley | |
of Okwak. | 941·3 | 3088
9 Wady Sarroweeb, 4 hours E.S.E. of Singat. | 1037·7 | 3404
10 Wady Harrassa in Erkoweet, 8 hours | |
E.S.E. of Singat, near the summer camp. | 1137·8 | 3732
11 At the base of the high hill of Erkoweet, | |
on the N. side. | 1250·2 | 4101
12 Summit of the hill of Erkoweet. | 1676·1 | 5499
13 2 hours W. of Singat, 1 hour from O-Mareg, | |
E. of the small pass. | 1007·3 | 3304
14 3½ hours W. of Singat, W. of the small | |
pass. | 1072·5 | 3518
15 O-Mareg, summer camp in the valley. | 971·7 | 3188
16 Small Wady, 3 hours W. of the Mareg, | |
in front of the pass. | 949·5 | 3115
17 Near the wells in Wady Amet. | 810·1 | 2658
18 On the S. slope of the W. end of the | |
mountain O-Kurr, 5 hours W. of the | |
wells of Amet. | 803·3 | 2635
19 Small Wady, an hour W. of Wady Arab. | 739·9 | 2427
20 Grassy Wady W. of Wady Arab, an | |
hour from the great khor-bed. | 762·5 | 2501
21 Near the wells in Wady Kamot-Atai. | 735·3 | 2412
22 Wady 4 hours E. of Wady Habob. | 705·6 | 2314
23 Wady Dimehadeet. | 717·5 | 2354
24 Wady Habob, eastern arm. | 741·0 | 2431
25 Wady Habob, western arm. | 600·2 | 1969
26 Wady Kokreb, camping-place, 1871. | 694·5 | 2278
27 Wady Kokreb, camping-place S. of last. | 597·6 | 1960
28 Great Wady, an hour W. of Wady Kokreb. | 657·0 | 2155
29 5½ hours W. of small isolated hill near | |
Wady Derumkad (Upper Wady | |
Yumga). | 650·0 | 2132
30 Wady Yumga. | 587·6 | 1927
31 Wady Derumkad. | 581·4 | 1907
32 Small isolated hill, an hour W. of Wady | |
Derumkad. | 578·0 | 1896
33 Valley near the acacias S. of the wells | |
of Roway. | 590·2 | 1936
34 Below the small pass above the Wady | |
Laemeb. | 580·1 | 1903
35 End of rising ground in the upper | |
Wady Laemeb. | 532·8 | 1748
36 In the middle of Wady Laemeb. | 574·6 | 1885
37 In the middle of Wady Laemeb. | 513·9 | 1686
38 In the lower Wady Laemeb, 2 hours | |
E. of O-Feek. | 458·8 | 1505
39 Wady at the foot of the hill O-Feek, | |
southern side. | 498·6 | 1635
40 2 hours E. of the bush-forest at O-Baek. | 508·2 | 1667
41 O-Baek, bush-forest near the wells. | 476·3 | 1562
42 Rain-pool, 2 hours W. of O-Baek. | 459·0 | 1506
43 5½ hours W. of O-Baek. | 438·8 | 1439
44 Wady Eremit, camping place in 1871. | 464·4 | 1523
45 Wady Eremit, camping place in 1868. | 446·0 | 1463
46 Depression in Wady Aboo Kolod. | 399·8 | 1311
47 Wady Darrowreeb or Derreeb. | 414·0 | 1359
48 Wady Aboo Zelem. | 452·2 | 1483
49 Pools of Aboo Tagger, 2½ hours E. of | |
Berber (el Mekherif). | 403·6 | 1324
50 Town of Berber (el Mekherif) 30 feet | |
above the highest level of the Nile. | 417·0 | 1368
-----------------------------------------------+---------+--------

B.—POINTS ON THE NILE BETWEEN LAT. 9° AND 18° N.

-----------------------------------------------+-------------------
| Height above
| the sea.
+---------+--------
| Meters. | Eng. ft.
1 Above Wolled Bassal (from the boat). | 399·7 | 1319
2 Town of Matamma (from the boat). | 404·4 | 1326
3 Town of Shendy (from the boat). | 408·8 | 1341
4 Town of Khartoom, 20 feet above the | |
highest level of the Blue Nile. | 407·2 | 1336
5 Meshera, on the island on the Kyt, the | |
extremity of the Bahr-el-Ghazal. | 442·7 | 1452
-----------------------------------------------+---------+---------

C.—POINTS IN THE BAHR-EL-GHAZAL DISTRICT.

D.—POINT BEYOND THE NILE DISTRICT.

FOOTNOTES:

[98] The position of this district with regard to the
points of the compass may be seen in the map of the
road from Suakin to Berber, which I published in vol.
XV. of Petermann’s ‘Geographical Communications,’
Table 15. 1869.

APPENDIX II.

[Illustration]

EIGHT ITINERARIES IN ILLUSTRATION OF THE DISTRICTS TO THE SOUTH AND
WEST OF MY ROUTE.

A.—IDREES WOD DEFTER’S ROUTE TO THE W.S.W., FROM DEHM
GUDYOO.

_First day._—Four hours to the village of the Kredy chief Mangirr, on
Agahd’s territory.

_Second day._—Six or seven leagues to some Kredy hamlets still on
Agahd’s territory.

_Third day._—Long day’s march of seven or eight hours to the deserted
villages of a former Kredy chief, named Koiye.

_Fourth day._—Eight leagues across an uninhabited district; night in
the wilderness.

_Fifth day._—Seven leagues to a small Seriba belonging to Idrees Wod
Defter on Mount Berangah.

_Sixth day._—Seven or eight leagues across an inhabited district to
the chief Seriba of Idrees Wod Defter, situated on a river flowing to
the north-west. The Kredy tribes of the district are called Bia and
Mehre; the local chief is named Gariaongoh.

_Seventh day._—Five hours’ march to the west to a subsidiary Seriba
belonging to Idrees, called Adya, after the Kredy tribe of the district.

_Eighth day._—Long day’s march of eight or nine leagues across the
wilderness.

_Ninth day._—Half a day’s march to Idrees’s most westerly Seriba in
Dar Benda, of which the chieftain is named Kobbokobbo. The Benda are an
independent nation, with their own dialect.

_Tenth day._—Seven or eight hours to the great river, said to flow
here in an easterly direction, and requiring to be crossed in boats
at all seasons; the population on the banks is composed of the
ivory-trading Aboo Dinga, and the land is called Dar Dinga, or Dar
Aboo Dinga. A king, known to the Nubians by the name of Ayah, to whom
several chieftains are tributary, resides to the north-west of Idrees
Wod Defter’s chief Seriba. Dar Dinga is also the resort for many slave
caravans under the management of the great dealers from Darfoor and
Kordofan. The companies of Seebehr Rahama, Seebehr Adlan, and Agahd,
likewise visit the country to purchase ivory from the chieftains.

B.—YUMMA’S ROUTE TO THE W.S.W. FROM DEHM
BEKEER TO THE RESIDENCE OF MOFIO.

_First day._—Six or eight leagues to the last villages of the Sehre:
they belong to Kurshook Ali’s territory, and the Sheikh is named
Sahtsy. His residence is situated on a small river, named the Ville or
Wille, that is said to flow in a north-western direction, and to belong
to the system of the river of Dar Dinga: it is at no part of the year
less than twenty feet deep.

_Second day to Eighth day (inclusive)._—Seven long days’ marches over
uninhabited wildernesses to the borders of Mofio’s territory, where his
behnky Boborungoo has his mbanga.

_Ninth day._—A short march over cultivated land to the residence of
the sub-chieftain Bakomoro.

_Tenth day._—A long march mostly through wild forest to the residence
of Kanso, a behnky of Mofio’s.

_Eleventh day._—The road turns to the north-west and leads by a long
day’s march to the behnky Abindee. A river flowing towards the north is
crossed here; it is named the Ngango, and after joining the Welle or
river of Sahtsy, flows into the great river of Dar Dinga, farther to
the north-west. In its lower course the stream is known as the Mboma.

_Twelfth day._—Half a day’s march to the mbanga of Gazima, the
sub-chieftain in command of the district and a brother of Mofio’s.

_Thirteenth and Fourteenth days._—Two days’ march to the residence
of Mofio, only a good day’s journey to the south-west of Idrees Wod
Defter’s chief Seriba. The river on which it is situated is said to be
called the Mbette, and to flow into the Mboma.

C.—ROUTE TO THE S.S.E. FROM DEHM BEKEER TO
SOLONGOH’S RESIDENCE.

_First day._—An ordinary day’s march across the Ngudduroo and the Djee
(leaving the Kokkuloo hill on the left) to the brook Biserry, which
has been followed by Nubians, and found to join the Wow. Unless the
rainfall has been very excessive, the brook may be waded even during
the Khareef. Mount Daragumba lies about two hours to the south of the
passage over the Biserry.

_Second day._—A good day’s march to the south-west across the
wilderness to a little brook, named the Kommoh, said to flow into the
Biserry.

_Third day._—The Dar (or inhabited land) of Solongoh’s territory is
reached towards evening. Night spent at the residence of Karya, the
chieftain’s behnky and brother.

_Fourth day._—The road bends more to the south, and leads by a long
day’s march to the mbanga of another sub-chieftain, named Ndundo, also
a brother of Solongoh.

_Fifth day._—South-west to Yagganda, a third brother and behnky of the
chieftain. Mount Yahre is passed on the east.

_Sixth day._—Across the Nomatina or Nomatilla, a copious river,
declared by the Niam-niam to be identical with the Wow, which in its
lower course in Bongoland they call the Nomatilla. Half-a-day’s journey
to the mbanga of Solongoh.

Two days’ march to the north-east from Solongoh lies Kurshook Ali’s
Seriba Aboo Shatter, in the land of the Bellanda, which for the most
part belongs to Solongoh. About half-way there stands the residence of
a behnky of the chieftain, named Ndimma; and a day’s journey north of
Kurshook Ali’s settlement lives another sub-chieftain, named Mamah;
consequently the Seriba forms an enclave in Solongoh’s territory.
Solongoh’s father was named Borrongboh or Bongorboh, and was the
brother of Mofio and Zaboora.

D.—YUMMA’S ROUTE TO THE SOUTH FROM DEHM
BEKEER TO YAFFATY AND INGIMMA.

_First and Second day._—Two days to the S.S.W., across uninhabited
frontier wildernesses.

_Third day._—Towards evening is reached the residence of the small
chieftain Yaffaty or Yapaty, the son of Zaboora, who had shaken off his
allegiance to his brother Mofio.

_Fourth day._—A moderate day’s march to the south to the residence of
Bogwa Riffio, a behnky and brother of Yaffaty.

_Fifth day._—Across the brook Mbomoo, flowing northwards, and said to
empty itself into the Nomatilla, to Boggwa Yango, a sub-chieftain of
Bombo.

_Sixth day._—An ordinary day’s march to the mbanga of the powerful
chief Bombo. A day’s journey to the north-west is the residence of
Nembo, and about the same distance to the north-east that of Nzembe,
both of these are brothers and sub-chieftains of Bombo.

_Seventh and Eighth days._—Through uninhabited wildernesses.

_Ninth day._—Across a great navigable river said to pass through the
territory of a chieftain named Sena, whose residence lies to the east
of the route; on this account the Nubians call the stream the river of
Sena. By the Niam-Niam it is called the Ware.

_Tenth day._—To the residence of a son of Ezo (not to be confounded
with the chief of the same name, who was the father of Ndoruma and
Ugetto) on the river of Sena, said to be identical with the river of
Wando (the Mbrwole).

_Eleventh and Twelfth days._—Through inhabited country, the territory
of the old, decrepit chieftain Ezo. Two long marches to the south of
the river is the residence of Ingimma, the most powerful of the sons of
Ezo.

_Thirteenth and Fourteenth days._—Half-a-day’s march beyond Ingimma’s
territory is the great River of Kanna, known as the Welle. After
crossing the river to the south of Ingimma’s residence, that of Kanna
is reached in two days’ journey to the east.

E.—ADERAHMAN ABOO GUROON’S ROUTE TO THE
S. FROM HIS CHIEF SERIBA TO THE NIAM-NIAM
AND MONBUTTOO.

_First day._—Eight hours to the south-west to Kurshook Ali’s Seriba
Nguddo.

_Second day._—Six hours to the south: night in the wilderness.

_Third day._—Half-a-day’s march to Aboo Guroon’s Seriba Mahah, on the
brook Lako.

_Fourth day._—Seven hours’ march to the S.S.W. to Gebel Reggeb, where
Aboo Guroon has his small Seriba Hibboo.

_Fifth day._—Half-a-day’s march to the south-east to the little Seriba
Mbellembey, the joint possession of Aboo Guroon and Ghattas. The local
chief of the Bongo in Mbellembey is named Ghirrah.

_Sixth day._—Half a day’s march to the south-east to Ghattas’s Seriba
Gebel Higgoo, on the southern frontier of the Bongo country.

_Seventh day._—To the south-west, leaving the territory of Mundo
(Babuckur) on the east. Eight hours across the wilderness to Aboo
Guroon’s Seriba on the northern frontier of the Niam-niam country. The
Seriba was under the control of a Niam-niam slave, named Fomboa, and
was destroyed in 1870 by Ndoruma. The name of the local chief was Ukweh.

_Eighth day._—To the south, across the Sway (Dyoor). Night-camp in the
wilderness on the Bikky.

_Ninth day._—A long day’s march of about nine hours across the
wilderness to the south-west, to the residence of Dukkoo, a brother and
sub-chieftain of Ndoruma.

_Tenth day._—A long march to the south and west, the residence of
Mbory, a behnky of Ndoruma. Half-way lies the spot where Ndoruma
attacked and defeated the united companies in 1870.

_Eleventh day._—A whole day’s march to the residence of Ndoruma on the
Barah, a brook that is said to empty itself into the Bikky. Ndoruma is
the most powerful of the reigning sons of Ezo.

_Twelfth day._—Half-a-day’s march to the mbanga of Gettwa or Ngetto, a
brother of Ndoruma and an independent chieftain; his lands lie to the
south of Ndoruma’s.

_Thirteenth day._—An ordinary day’s march to the south-east, to the
village of Mashmany, a behnky of Ngetto.

_Fourteenth day._—Long march to the south-east across uninhabited
country.

_Fifteenth day._—Half a day’s march to the territory of Malingde. In
the middle of the day is reached the village of Owra, a son of the
wealthy chieftain.

_Sixteenth day._—A whole day’s march to the south-east, to the village
of a local overseer under Owra, named Bazway.

_Seventeenth day._—Half-a-day’s march to the residence of Malingde or
Marindo, one of the numerous sons of Bazimbey.

_Eighteenth day._—A whole day’s march to the W.S.W., to the residence
of Malingde’s behnky Bahzia.

_Nineteenth day._—A long day’s march to the south-east, to the
villages of Malingde’s behnky Yaganda.

_Twentieth day._—Across uninhabited country: night in the wilderness.

_Twenty-first day._—Half a day’s march to the residence of Wando’s
behnky Bagbatta.

_Twenty-second day._—A long day’s march to the river of Wando
(Mbrwole): night on the banks. This stream is said to pass through the
territories of Sena and Indimma; in its lower course it bears the name
of the Ware.

_Twenty-third day._—Through the remainder of the border wilderness on
to the territory of Izingerria (in Munza’s dominions) near the villages
of his behnky Dedda.

_Twenty-fourth day._—Southwards to the numerous villages of
Izingerria’s territory.

_Twenty-fifth day._—In the same direction to the residence of one of
Izingerria’s behnkys.

_Twenty-sixth day._—A short march to the residence of Izingerria
himself.

F.—AHMED AWAT’S ROUTE TO THE S.W. FROM
NDORUMA TO EZO.

_First day._—A good day’s march to the west, to the residence of
Ndoruma’s behnky Komunda.

_Second day._—In the same direction to the residence of Tumafee,
another behnky of Ndoruma.

_Third day._—To the residence of Mbanzuro, a brother and sub-chieftain
of Ndoruma.

_Fourth day._—To the residence of Ndoruma’s behnky Byazingee.

_Fifth and Sixth days._—In a south-western direction across
uninhabited regions.

_Seventh day._—Half a day’s march to Baria’s territory: halt at the
border villages.

_Eighth day._—A day’s march through populous districts to Baria’s
residence, near which Ahmed Awat, Hassaballa’s head-controller, has
erected a Seriba. Baria is an old friend and ally of the company.

_Ninth day._—A good day’s march to the south, to the residence of
Sango, a brother and sub-chieftain of Ndoruma.

_Tenth and Eleventh days._—Across uninhabited country; two nights in
the wilderness.

_Twelfth day._—A day’s march to the abode of Ndenny, a son and former
behnky of the deceased Sena.

_Thirteenth day._—To the residence of Baziboh, the son of Sena, now an
independent chieftain.

_Fourteenth day._—To the Gangara mountains, the home of the A-Madi and
their kindred tribe the Imberry.

_Fifteenth and Sixteenth days._—Through populated districts to the
residence of the old chieftain Ezo.

G.—ROUTE FROM KURSHOOK ALI’S CHIEF SERIBA
ON THE DYOOR TO ABOO SHATTER, IN THE DISTRICT
OF THE BELLANDA.

_First day._—Eight hours’ march to the south-west and south, through
Hassaballa’s small Seriba to Kurshook Ali’s subsidiary Seriba Mittoo in
Bongoland.

_Second day._—Six. hours’ march to the south, to a second Seriba
belonging to the same company, and called Longo. A small Seriba of
Agahd’s lies to the east of the route: it is called Mbor, and is not
far from the left bank of the Dyoor.

_Third day._—Seven or eight leagues to the site of a former Seriba of
Kurshook Ali, named Murr.

_Fourth day._—Across the frontier wilderness on the south of the Bongo
territory: night in the wilderness.

_Fifth day._—A short march to the border villages of the Bellanda,
under the control of a behnky of the Niam-niam chieftain Solongoh.

_Sixth day._—Half-a-day’s march to Aboo Shatter, a lofty isolated
mountain, from the summit of which all the detached hills of southern
Bongoland and the mountains of Mundo (Babuckur) are said to be visible.
The local chief of the Bellanda, under Kurshook Ali’s jurisdiction, is
named Akoo, whilst the chief of the Niam-niam, tributary to Solongoh,
is said to be Bongurr. Six hours to the north-east of Aboo Shatter is
a second Bellanda Seriba, belonging to Kurshook Ali, called Dongoh:
it is said to be near the left bank of the Dyoor. Six hours farther to
the east, and beyond the river, is a third Seriba belonging to this
company, named Asalla. A few hours to the north of Asalla are Aboo
Guroon’s Bongo Seribas, called Gebel Regheb and Abooleghee by the
Nubians, after the Bongo Sheikh of the district. The native name for
Abooleghee is Karey, that of Gebel Reggeb being Hibboo.

H.—ROUTE TO THE SOUTH FROM KULONGO TO
GEBEL HIGGOO AND MUNDO.

_First day._—Five hours to the S.S.W. to Kurshook Ali’s small Seriba
Kileby. Four hours to the west of Kileby lies the small Seriba Ngorr,
belonging to the same company.

_Second day._—Seven hours’ march to Ghattas’s subsidiary Seriba Mboh,
of which the local chief of the Bongo is named Doliba. A deserted
Seriba of Kurshook Ali’s, of which the local chief was named Abrass,
is passed on the road. Two considerable brooks (the Molmul and the
Nyedokoo?) are crossed between Kileby and Mboh.

_Third day._—Six or seven hours to Ghattas’s Seriba Doggaia, of which
the local chief is named Bonyira.

_Fourth day._—Four hours’ march to Ghattas’s Seriba on Gebel Higgoo.
The Bongo district is called Longo, the local chief Higgoo. Three
hours to the east is a much frequented Seriba belonging to Ghattas;
it is situated on the so-called Gebel Shiteta (cayenne-pepper hill),
and called Roome by the Bongo. The local overseer of the district is
named Bomadioh. Sabby lies two days’ march east of Gebel Shiteta; after
crossing the Tondy the road leads on the first day through the village
of the Bongo sheikh Guiya, who is in Aboo Sammat’s territory. Mundo
lies only two leagues to the south of Gebel Higgoo; the route to the
Niam-niam lands across this mountainous region of the Babuckur leads
through a dangerous defile, where travellers are often attacked by the
natives. This is the Mundo visited by J. Petherick in February 1858,
the name of the places which he passed are given by him in the Bongo
dialect, and several of them, such as Yow, Dangah, Mabah, Murr, and
Lungo, are retained to the present time.

APPENDIX III

[Illustration]

LIST OF MAMMALIA OBSERVED DURING MY
TRAVELS FROM THE GAZELLE.

(WITH THEIR NATIVE NAMES).[99]

1. _Troglodytes niger._ Geoff. (Variety: _Schweinfurthii._ Gigl.)
Bongo: Dadda.
Niam-niam: Irangba or Manjarooma.
Monbuttoo: Nohzo.
Sehre: Sango.

2. _Colobus guereza._ Rüpp.
Bongo: Ndollo.
Niam-niam: Mbeggeh.

3. _Cercopithecus griseoviridis._ Desm.
Dyoor: Ngero or Angehro.
Bongo: Manga.
Niam-niam: Ngalangala.
Kredy: Ohlo.

4. _Cercopithecus pyrrhonotus._ Ehrb.
Dinka: Agohk.
Dyoor: Abworro.
Bongo: Gumbi.
Niam-niam: Gungbeh.
Golo: Toggwa.
Kredy: Nyagga.

5. _Cercopithecus pygerythrus._ F. Cuv.
Niam-niam: Ndumm.

6. _Cynocephalus Babuin._ Desm.
Dyoor: Bimm.
Bongo: Kungah.
Niam-niam: Bokkoo.

7. _Cynocephalus sp._
Sehre: Mbeeri.
Golo: Filli.
Kredy: Booroo.

8. _Otolicnus Teng._ Geoffr. (_Galago senegalensis._ F. Cuvier.)
Dinka: Londorr or Nehngby.
Dyoor: Anyoi or Anynai.
Bongo: Ndohr.
Niam-niam: Bakumbosso.

9. _Otolicnus Pelei._ Temm. (_Galago Demidoffii_ Fisch.)
Niam-niam: Mbottoo.

10. _Megaderma frons._ Geoffr.

11. _Vesperugo sp._
Bongo: Beeroo.
Niam-niam: Tooreb.

12. _Scotophilus leucogaster._ Geoffr.

13. _Nycteris hispida._ Geoffr.

14. _Phyllorrhina caffra._ Lund.

15. _Erinaceus sp._
Dyoor: Ohkoddo.
Bongo: Ndudoopirakpeh.
Niam-niam: Dunduleh.
Golo: Iddoo.
Kredy: Ohko.
Sehre: Mbarra.

16. _Sorex sp._
Dyoor: Ushull.
Bongo: Tondo, or Shondo.
Niam-niam: Ndelly.
Golo: Diffee.
Kredy: Djanje-kreie.

17. _Ratelus capensis._ G. Cuv.
Dyoor: Ogang.
Bongo: Nyirr.
Niam-niam: Torubale.

18. _Lutra inunguis._ F. Cuv.?
Niam-niam: Limmu.

19. _Canis familiaris._ L.
Dinka: Dyong.
Dyoor: Grook.
Bongo: Bihee.
Niam-niam: Ango.
Mittoo: Weehy.
Golo: Ovio.
Kredy: Kohno.
Sehre: Borro.
Monbuttoo: Nessy.

20. _Canis variegatus._ Cretschm. (_C. aureus auctorum._)
Dinka: Awaun.
Dyoor: Toh.
Bongo: Galah.
Niam-niam: Hoah.
Kredy: Glommu.
Golo: Ndaggeh.
Sehre: Ndeh.

21. _Canis pictus._ Desm.
Dinka: Kwaty.
Bongo: Well.
Niam-niam: Tiah.
Sehre: Sahr.

22. _Octocyon Lalandii._ H. Sm.?
Dinka: Paudey.

23. _Hyæna crocata._ Zimm.
Dinka: Angwee.
Dyoor: Utwomm.
Bongo: Heeloo.
Niam-niam: Wegge.
Mittoo: Moddaoo.
Golo: Mboo.
Sehre: Mboh.

24. _Viverra civetta._ Schreb.
Dyoor: Yuoll.
Bongo: Kurrukkoo.
Niam-niam: Teeya.

25. _Viverra genetta._ L.
Dinka: Augonn.
Dyoor: Anyara.
Bongo: Dongoh.
Niam-niam: Mbellee.
Golo: Nifah.
Kredy: Ndilly.
Sehre: Mehre.

26. _Herpestes fasciatus._ Desm.
Dinka: Agorr.
Dyoor: Gorr.
Bongo: Ngorr, or Dai.
Niam-niam: Nduttwah.

27. _Felis leo._ L.
Dinka: Kohr.
Dyoor: Moo.
Bongo: Pull.
Niam-niam: Mbongonoo.
Golo: Singilee.
Kredy: Ganye-kaza.
Sehre: Sirringinny.

28. _Felis leopardus._ Schreb.
Dyoor: Kwaty.
Bongo: Koggo.
Niam-niam: Mamah.
Kredy: Sellembey.

29. _Felis caracal._ L.
Dyoor: Nwoi.
Bongo: Mudyokpollah.
Niam-niam: Mobboroo.

30. _Felis serval._ Schreb.
Dinka: Dohk.
Bongo: Gregge.
Niam-niam: Ngaffoo.

31. _Felis maniculata._ Temm: Rüpp.
Dinka: Angow.
Dyoor: Bang, or Gwang.
Bongo: Mbira-oo.
Niam-niam: Dandalah.
Golo: Dahve.
Kredy: Lehje.
Sehre: Sahte.
Mittoo: Ngorroh.

32. _Sciurus leucumbrinus._ Rüpp.
Dyoor: Aiyeda.
Bongo: Remme.
Niam-niam: Bederry.

33. _Sciurus superciliaris._ A. Wagn.
Dinka: Allohl.
Dyoor: Anynai.
Bongo: Urenge.
Niam-niam: Bamumba, or Bakumbah.
Golo: Angah.
Sehre: Serenna.

34. _Mus decumanus._ Pall.
Bongo: Luny.
Niam-niam: Gwah.

35. _Mus alexandrinus._ Geoffr.
Dinka: Lohk.
Bongo: Higgeh-roo, or Rohpattah.
Niam-niam: Babilly.
Kredy: Ohtoh.
Sehre: Dyoo.

36. _Golunda pulchella._ Gray.
Dinka: Manyang.
Dyoor: Weeo.
Bongo: Yangah.
Niam-niam: Sikka.
Golo: Ngadze.
Mittoo: Gaggah.

37. _Meriones Burtonii._ A. Wagn.
Dinka: Maval kondo.
Dyoor: Omadda.
Bongo: Mokokoh, or Higgehnyakkah.
Niam-niam: Zakadda.
Golo: Fyako.
Kredy: Iltee.
Sehre: Dyoo.

38. _Mus gentilis._ Brants.
Bongo: Mangbelle.
Niam-niam: Ndekkitelly.

39. _Aulacodus Swinderianus._ Temm.
Bongo: Bohko.
Dinka: Lony.
Dyoor: Nyanyahr.
Niam-niam: Remvo or Alimvoh.
Golo: Elle.
Sehre: Abattara.
Kredy: Mbadja.
Mittoo: Wohko.

40. _Lepus æthiopipus._ Ehrbg.
Dinka: Anyorr.
Dyoor: Ap-woio.
Bongo: Battah.
Niam-niam: Ndekutteh.
Kredy: Ohzo.

41. _Hystrix cristata._ L.
Dyoor: Shyow.
Bongo: Kehoa.
Niam-niam: Nzingeneh.

42. _Orycteropus æthiopicus._ Sundev.
Dyoor: Mohk.
Niam-niam: Kahre.

43. _Manis Temminckii._ Sund.
Dyoor: Kong.
Bongo: Konn.
Niam-niam: Bashishee.

44. _Elephas africanus._ Blum.
Dinka: Akonn.
Dyoor: Lyady.
Bongo: Kiddy.
Niam-niam: Mbarah.
Mittoo: Kiddy.
Golo: Offio.
Kredy: Morrongoh.
Sehre: Shah.

45. _Rhinoceros bicornis._ L.
Dyoor: Umwoh.
Bongo: Basha.
Niam-niam: Kangah.
Kredy: Gruruppo.

46. _Hippopotamus amphibius._ L.
Dinka: Nyang.
Dyoor: Fahr.
Bongo: Habba.
Niam-niam: Duppoh.
Golo: Fyongoo.
Kredy: Mrungoo.
Sehre: Diffoh.

47. _Hyrax sp._
Bongo: Mberedoo.
Niam-niam: Attaboo.
Lehsy: Keltoh.
Golo: Ngaffe.
Kredy: Ozo.
Sehre: Nogoun.

48. _Phacochœrus Aeliani._ Rüpp.
Dinka: Dyehr.
Dyoor: Kull.
Bongo: Bohdoo.
Niam-niam: Tibba.
Mittoo: Wadoh.
Kredy: Bonghoh, or Boddoh.
Golo: Vungbah.
Sehre: Badzo.

49. _Potamochœrus penicillatus._ Gray.
Niam-niam: Mokkuroo, or Djomborr.
Monbuttoo: Napazo.

50. _Camelopardalis giraffa._ L.
Dinka: Mehr.
Dyoor: Wehr.
Bongo: Killiroo.
Niam-niam: Basumbarrighy.
Golo: Ndakkala.
Kredy: Govisisee.
Sehre: Bagga.

51. _Sus sennaariensis._ Fitz.
Dinka: Angow.
Dyoor: Amayok.
Bongo: Mondoh.
Niam-niam: Gurrwa.
Mittoo Madi: Legych.

52. _Antilope Oreas._ Pall.
Dinka: Golgwall.
Dyoor: Odyerr.
Bongo: Mburreh.
Niam-niam: Mburreh.
Mittoo: Kehr, or Mburreh.
Bellanda: Odehr.
Kredy: Kobbo.
Sehre: Kovo.
Golo: Kobbo.

53. _Antilope leucophæa._ Pall. (_Æjoceros._ Ham. Sm.)
Dinka: Amomm.
Dyoor: Ommar.
Bongo: Manya.
Niam-niam: Bisso.
Golo: Vunnungoo.
Bellanda: Omahr.
Sehre: Dehngah.

54. _Antilope nigra._ Harris. (_Ægoceros._ Ham. Sm.)

55. _Antilope caama._ Gray. (_Acronotus._ H. Sm.)
Dinka: Alalwehl.
Dyoor: Purroh.
Bongo: Karia.
Niam-niam: Songoroh, or Soggumoo.
Mittoo: Borro.
Golo: Kotzo.
Kredy: Kreia.
Sehre: Dangah.
Babuckur: Borro.
Monbuttoo: Nakkibbee.

56. _Antilope leucotis._ Licht. Peters. (_Kobus._ A. Sm.)
Dinka: Teel.
Dyoor: Teel.
Bongo: Kalah.
Niam-niam: Tagba.
Mittoo: Kalla.
Sehre: Boddy.
Kredy: Ngaio.
Golo: Ngallah.
Monbuttoo: Nehpedde.

57. _Antilope defassa._ Rüpp. (_Kobus._ A. Sm.)
Dinka: Pohr or Fohr.
Dyoor: Ummoowoh.
Bongo: Booboo.
Niam-Niam: Mbagga.
Mittoo: Lehby.
Kiedy: Adyec.
Golo: Boggo, or Weendy.

58. _Antilope megaloceros._ Heugl. (_Kobus._ A. Sm.)
Dinka: Abohk.

59. _Antilope arundinacea._ Gray. (_Eleotragus._)
Dinka: Kao.
Dyoor: Rohr.
Bongo: Yolo.
Niam-niam: Yoro.
Golo: Ngallah.
Sehre: Dyiang.

60. _Antilope scripta._ Pall. (_Tragelaphus._ Blainv.)
Dinka: Pehr, or Fehr.
Dyoor: Rohro.
Bongo: Tobbo.
Niam-Niam: Boddy.
Golo: Kuffoo.
Mittoo: Ehboo.
Kredy: Leuje.
Sehre: Ya-oo, or Yavoh.
Bellanda: Rodda.

61. _Antilope Addax._ Licht.
Dinka: Anyidohl.
Bongo: Owel.

62. _Antilope senegalensis._ H. Lin. (_Dumalis._ Gray.)
Dinka: Tyang.
Dyoor: Tahng.
Bongo: Tanghe.

63. _Antilope madoqua._ Rüpp. (_Cephalolophus._ H. Sm. Hens.)
Dinka: Lohdy.
Dyoor: Nettyade.
Bongo: Heggoleh.
Mittoo: Kulleh.
Niam-niam: Bongbalyah.
Golo: Leffa.
Kredy: Kehdo.
Sehre: Ngogoh.
Shillook: Akony.

64. _Antilope grimmia._ Licht. (_Cephalolophus._ H. Sm.)
Dinka: Amook.
Dyoor: Nyepael.
Bongo: Deelg.
Niam-niam: Bafoo.
Mittoo: Lehloo.
Mittoo-Madi: Heeboo.
Sehre: Dee.

65. _Antilope pygmæa._ Licht. (_Cephalolophus._ H. Sm.)
Bongo: Mburrumoo.
Niam-niam: Mourrah.
Sehre: Nzerre.
Monbuttoo: Nelunbokoh.

66. _Antilope sp. minor rufescens._ (_Cephalolophus._ H. Sm.)
Bongo: Dongboh.
Niam-niam: Kohtumoh.

67. _Capra hircus._ L.
Dinka: Tonn (male); Tohk (female).
Dyoor: Byell.
Bongo: Binya.
Niam-niam: Wu-sindeh.
Mittoo: Oanya.
Golo: Orego.
Kredy: Ehne.
Sehre: Mvirry.
Monbuttoo: Memmeh.

68. _Ovis aries._ L.
Dinka: Amahl.
Dyoor: Rohmo.
Bongo: Romboh.
Kredy: Ndillimee.
Mittoo: Kameleh.
Sehre: Dzagga.

69. _Bos taurus._ L. (_B. Zebu_, var. _Africana_).
Dinka: Wehng (common); Tonu (male); Ngoot (female).
Bongo: Shah.
Niam-niam: Hilty.
Mittoo: Ehshah.
Golo: Moddoh.
Kredy: Modoh.
Dyoor: Dyang.

70. _Bubalis Caffer._ Gray.
Dinka: Anyarr.
Dyoor: Dyooy.
Bongo: Kobby.
Niam-niam: Mbah.
Golo: Meende.
Kredy: Sobbo, or Mbah.
Sehre: Mbah.

71. _Manatus senegalensis._ Desm. M. Vogelii?
Nubians: Kharoof-el-Bahr.

DOUBTFUL SPECIES, KNOWN ONLY FROM INFORMATION DERIVED FROM NATIVES.

72. _Sorex sp._?
Bongo: Higgeh Karia.

73. _Mus sp._?
Bongo: Mobiddy.

74. _Mus sp._?
Bongo: Highee Deeloo.

75. _Chrysochloris sp._? (_Talpa_?)
Bongo: Brumur.
Niam-niam: Tundooah.

FOOTNOTES:

[99] The native names will also show the geographical
distribution of the various animals. I am indebted to
Professor R. Hartmann for the names of all but the
doubtful species.

INDEX.

[Illustration]

A-BANGA, tribe of, i. 522;
entertaining, i. 531;
their arrows, i. 534;
trophy of their heads, ii. 176, 178;
great body of, ii. 180.

Aboo Guroon, i. 185;
repulsed by Tikkiboh, ii. 95;
visit to, ii. 287;
his death, ii. 308.

Aboo Maaref, i. 242.

Aboo Odfa, a natural monument, i. 37.

Aboo Sammat, i. 99;
his liberality, i. 333, 417;
his hospitality, i. 351;
his speech, i. 397;
his territory, i. 465;
wounded, ii. 171;
present from, ii. 277;
attacked, ii. 285.

Abrey (cold cup), i. 373.

Acacin, _spirocarpa_, i. 59;
_verugata_, i. 76;
_fistula_, i. 97.

_Adenia venenata_, i. 135.

Adimokoo the Akka, ii. 127;
his war-dance, ii. 129.

Agar, i. 225.

Ahmed, i. 434;
his death, ii. 230.

Ahmed Aga, ii. 357, 360, 369.

Akka, their country, ii. 84;
their height, complexion, and hair, ii. 140;
appearance, ii. 141;
their hands, skull, and eyes, ii. 142;
ears and lips, ii. 143;
dialect, ii. 144;
their treatment by the Monbuttoo, ii. 145.

_Albizzia serico-cephalus_, i. 144.

Algiers, ii. 435.

Allagabo the Bongo, ii. 205, 460, 487.

Aloe, not found in Egypt, i. 105;
with green blossom, ii. 203.

Alwaj district, i. 171.

Ambatch (Herminiera), i. 61;
canoes, i. 77.

Amomum, i. 468.

Analogy of rivers, i. 113.

Anonaceæ, i. 497.

_Anona Senegalensis_, i. 222.

Antelopes: _megaloceras_, i. 63;
_madoqua_, i. 188, 243; ii. 464;
_caama_, i. 195, 427;
_leucotis_, i. 196, 241, 457; ii. 233, 445;
_leucophæa_, i. 216;
_nigra_, i. 242;
_grimmia_, i. 243;
_arundinacea_, ii. 446;
_ellipsiprymna_, i. 338;
_oreas_, i. 359, ii. 248;
antelope chased by hyæna, ii. 205.

Ant-hills, i. 349; ii. 196.

Anthocleista, i. 470.

Antinori, Marquis, i. 185; ii. 80.

Ants, invasion of, ii. 227.

Apostrophe to the Nile, i. 187.

Arab nicknames, i. 82.

Arabs, true, i. 28.

Arash Kol, Mt., i. 57.

Arbab, marriage of, i. 40.

Arslan, my sheep dog, i. 56;
stung by bees, i. 74;
his death, i. 217.

Assika, the river, ii. 183.

Atoborroo, i. 457.

Awoory, i. 377.

BABUCKUR, raid on, ii. 222;
persecution of, ii. 257;
their women, ii. 258;
value as slaves, ii. 419.

Baginze, Mt., ii. 212;
its position, ii. 213;
vegetation, ii. 214.

Baggara, i. 66;
Rizegat, ii. 341, 395.

Bahr-el-Arab, its mouth, i. 122;
identity with the Bahr-el-Homr, ii. 370;
its importance, ii. 392.

Bahr-el-Ghazal, compared to the Havel, i. 115;
its importance, i. 123, 125.
(_Vide_ Gazelle.)

Bahr-el-Kooroo, ii. 353.

Baker, Sir Samuel: encounter with natives, i. 30;
his opinion of soil by the White Nile, i. 56;
suppression of slave expedition from Fashoda, i. 83;
hindered at the grass barrier, i. 106;
loss of pack-ass, i. 135;
praise of Lepidosiren, i. 136;
living on Melochia, ii. 197;
book of travels, i. 320; ii. 198;
condemns eleusine, i. 492;
statement about Lake Mwootan, ii. 162;
peremptory measures, ii. 410, 429;
indignation against, ii. 485.

_Balæniceps rex_, i. 117; ii. 472.

Bamboos (_bambusa_), i. 183;
in blossom, i. 237;
jungles, ii. 251, 253.

Bastard-gemsbock, i. 216.

Beads, i. 203, 502; ii. 235.

Beans, i. 249; ii. 254.

Bear-baboons, i. 198.

Bearers, desertion of, i. 184;
feeding them, i. 461, 475;
consideration shown to them, i. 477;
an exhausted bearer, i. 433;
three of them murdered, ii. 220.

Bedouins, town, i. 28.

Beery, the river, ii. 377.

Bees: attacked by a swarm, i. 73;
suffering from their stings, i. 75.

Bees’ wax, ii. 167.

Behnky, name for Niam-niam chieftains, ii. 22.

Bellanda, i. 200.

Berber, i. 38;
return to, ii. 485.

Bet-el-Gellahba, ii. 394.

Bishareen, i. 28;
their sheep and goats, i. 32;
ugliness of the women, i. 36.

Blessing, the missionary, ii. 482.

Blippo (_Gardenia malleifera_), i. 440;
used by Monbuttoo, ii. 104.

Boar, wild, i. 363.

Bodumoh, the river, ii. 202.

BONGO: festival of, i. 183;
their country, i. 257;
vassalage, i. 259;
population, i. 260;
complexion, i. 261;
stature, i. 263;
skull and hair, i. 264;
agriculture, i. 266;
smoking, i. 269;
goats, i. 270;
dogs, i. 271;
hunting, i. 272;
money, i. 279;
ornaments, i. 279;
graves, i. 285, 303;
music, i. 287;
weapons, i. 299;
games, i. 300;
fear of ghosts, i. 305;
belief in witches, i. 307;
singing, i. 309;
dialect, i. 311;
sauces, i. 462;
concert, ii. 404;
value as slaves, ii. 419;
chief, executed, ii. 457.

Bongwa, the chieftain, i. 543;
his wife, i. 544;
return to, ii. 153.

Boroo (or borru), ii. 32, 181.

“Bride of the Fish,” i. 16.

Bruce, the traveller, i. 113.

Buffalo, attack of a wild, i. 64;
frantic herd of them, i. 70;
African species, i. 193;
alarmed by, ii. 259;
herd of them, ii. 265;
calf killed, ii. 347.

Bunza, son of Munza, ii. 57.

Bushbock killed, ii. 255.

Bushmen, ii. 139.

Butterflies, i. 197.

Butter tree, i. 220.

CALAMUS, hedge of, i. 468.

Calotropis, ii. 343.

Cannibalism: traces of, i. 517;
amongst Niam-niam, ii. 17, 224;
amongst Monbuttoo, ii. 93.

Caraïb (_Bucerosia_), i. 22.

Caroob, i. 191.

Carpodiuus, i. 192.

Cat, wild (_Felis Maniculata_), i. 320.

Cattle-diseases, ii. 280.

Cattle-raids on Dinka, i. 227; ii. 465.

Caves of Kulongo, i. 234.

Charcoal, ignorance of, i. 208.

Chimpanzees: abundance in Wando’s district, i. 497, 518;
mode of catching, i. 521.

Chinese hand-barrows, ii. 307.

Christianity and slave-trade, ii. 432.

Christ’s thorn (_Zizyphus Baclei_), i. 360.

Cogyvor, or wizards, i. 331.

Cola-nut, ii. 49.

Coldest day, ii. 304.

Colocasia, i. 445.

Copper: taken as exchange, i. 502;
known to Monbuttoo, ii. 109;
ornaments, ii. 110;
goods obtained for, ii. 362;
mines, ii. 372.

_Cordia abyssinica_, i. 558.

Crocodiles, ii. 336.

Cussonia, ii. 212.

Cyanite, ii. 47.

DAL KURDYOOK, a Dinka chief, ii. 466.

Damury, ii. 345.

Damvo, ii. 212.

Dangabor, Bongo ornament, i. 282.

Dangadduloo, i. 372.

Dapper, ii. 136.

Dar Aboo Dinga river, ii. 390.

Dar Ferteet, district of, ii. 365, 430.

Darfoor, refuge for outlaws, i. 383;
route to, ii. 371;
its copper-mines, ii. 372.

Defafang, an extinct volcano, i. 69.

Dehms, ii. 355, 365;
Dehm Nduggo, ii. 360;
Dehm Gudyoo, ii. 380;
Dehm Bekeer, ii. 387.

Deloo antelopes, i. 245.

Depopulation of Africa, ii. 437.

Deraggo, i. 399.

Dialect: Dyoor, i. 200;
Bongo, i. 311;
Niam-niam, ii. 31;
Monbuttoo, ii. 102;
Akka, ii. 144;
Golo, ii. 350;
Kredy, ii. 368;
Sehre, ii. 396.

DINKA: territory, i. 148;
physical peculiarities, i. 149;
ornaments, i. 153;
weapons, i. 155;
cookery, i. 157;
houses, i. 159;
domestic animals, i. 160;
population, i. 167;
character, i. 169;
soil, i. 180.

Displacement of Nile vegetation, i. 69.

Djee, the river, ii. 388, 395.

Doggoroo, the river, i. 327; ii. 268.

Doggudoo (or Dokkuttoo), i. 367.

Dome-palms (_Hyphæne thebaica_), ii. 185.

Doomookoo, i. 240.

Dracænæ, i. 21.

Dualism of vegetation, i. 223, 505.

Ducks, i. 120.

Dueme, village on the White Nile, i. 59.

Duggoo, i. 343.

Dugwara, i. 389.

Duisberg, German vice-consul at Khartoom, i. 42, 45; ii. 482.

Dumburre, ii. 407.

Dyafer, Pasha, Governor-general of Khartoom, i. 44; ii. 479, 483.

Dyagbe, the river, i. 516.

Dyoor, the river, mouth of, i. 124;
old bed of, i. 125;
dimensions of, i. 186; ii. 283, 312;
fishing in, ii. 451.

DYOOR, nation; name and dialect, i. 200;
complexion and ornaments, i. 201;
women, i. 202;
slimness, i. 204;
spears and spades, i. 205;
iron-smelting, i. 206;
smelting-furnaces, i. 207;
huts, i. 209;
hunting snares, i. 211;
character, i. 211;
clay-floors, i. 212;
affection, i. 212.

EARTH-NUTS, i. 250.

Eclipse of sun, i. 11.

Egyptians, their troops, ii. 357;
their apathy, ii. 435.

Elephants: African contrasted with Indian, i. 139;
traces of, i. 457;
hunted by Niam-niam, ii. 25;
present of a young elephant, ii. 277.

Eleusine-corn, i. 248, 448, 492;
beer made from, ii. 13.

El-Sett (the grass barrier), i. 107.

El-Usher, ii. 343.

Encephalartus, i. 448; ii. 375.

Ensete (wild plantain), ii. 215.

_Entada scandens_, ii. 62.

_Eriodendron anfractuosum_, ii. 351.

Erkoweet, a summer retreat from Sunkin, i. 25.

Euphorbiæ, i. 21;
candelabra, i. 120.

Extract of meat, ii. 69, 234.

FAKI, grave of a, ii. 292;
reverence for Fakis, ii. 324;
Fakis as slave-dealers, ii. 413.

Fan, analogy with Niam-niam, ii. 19.

Fanatical priest from Kano, i. 30;
an offended, ii. 342.

Fanekama, ii. 479.

Farookh (black soldiers), ii. 182, 421.

Fashoda, limit of Egyptian government, i. 78;
return to, ii. 479.

Ferns, i. 507.

Fever, immunity from, i. 128;
deaths from, ii. 486.

Fig-trees of Monbuttoo, ii. 88;
gigantic tree in Bongo land, ii. 343;
in Seriba Moody, ii. 405.

Fire, alarm of, i. 316; ii. 461;
in Seriba, ii. 290.

Flags, i. 138.

Flies on the Gazelle, i. 115.

Fulbe, affinity of Monbuttoo with, ii. 101.

Funguses, i. 267.

GADDA, the river, ii. 251.

Gallery-forests, i. 504;
vegetation of, i. 506.

Garden, my, i. 213.

Gazelle, the river (Bahr-el-Ghazal), i. 112, 113, 123, 126; ii. 473.

Geer, the Seriba, i. 181, 230; ii. 460.

Geese, on the White Nile, i. 54.

Gellahbas (slave-dealers), i. 228; ii. 356, 360, 365, 412, 417.

Ghattas, choice of, i. 45;
contract with, i. 48;
a bird named, i. 115;
his Seribas, ii. 270, 289.

Ghetty, the river, ii. 336.

Gimsah, sulphur works at, i. 12.

Giraffes, i. 182.

Gnats, i. 115.

Gneiss-hills, i. 536; ii. 387.

Goat-suckers (_Cosmetornis Spekii Sclatei_), i. 357.

Goggo, i. 394.

Gourds, i. 252; ii. 269.

Government contract, i. 6;
troops, ii. 305.

Grass, i. 229.

Grass-barrier (El-Sett), i. 105.

Grass-huts, ii. 226.

Greenstone prevalent, i. 32.

Gresse, the river, ii. 380.

Gudyoo, Dehm, ii. 379.

Guinea-fowl, i. 460.

Guinea-hog, ii. 78.

Gumango, the hill, i. 446;
chasm, ii. 346.

Gum-arabic, i. 97.

Gun-accident, i. 88;
narrow escape from, i. 474, 497.

Gyabir, the interpreter, i. 513;
shot in the arm, i. 533;
his cowardice, ii. 284.

HABBABKUM, i. 65.

_Haliëtos vocifer_, i. 96.

Hartebeests, i. 195; ii. 231, 259, 263, 463.

Hassanieh—their cattle, i. 58;
their dogs, i. 59.

Hegelig (Balanites), i. 66.

Hellali, the swindler, ii. 266, 330, 356, 364.

Herminiera (ambatch), i. 61.

Heuglin, Theodor von, i. 129; ii. 337, 339, 344.

Hexabolus (Anonacea), i. 432.

Hibiscus, i. 253.

Hippopotamuses—in the White Nile, i. 56;
in the Keebaly, ii. 159;
in the Dyoor, ii. 314;
their fat, ii. 316;
one dying, ii. 473.

Hoo, the river, i. 456; ii. 200, 225.

Humboldt Institution, grant from, i. 4.

Humboldtia (Kobbo-tree), i. 451.

Hussīen, my Nubian servant, i. 416.

Huts, of the Dyoor, i. 209;
grass, ii. 226.

Hyæna-dogs (_Canis pictus_), ii. 274.

Hyæna-woman, i. 307; ii. 475.

Hyæna chasing an antelope, ii. 205.

Hydrographical law as affecting riverbanks, i. 54.

Hyptis, i. 250.

IBBA, the river (the Upper Tondy), i. 435.

Ibrahim Effendi, ii. 363.

Idrees (Ghattas’s plenipotentiary), i. 178;
his negligence, ii. 297.

Idrees, Wod Defter, ii. 349.

Indimma, ii. 239.

Inglery, Mohammed Aboo Sammat’s trumpeter, i. 490.

Islamism, ii. 434.

Islands of Sixth Cataract, i. 40.

Ismail Pasha, _bon mot_ of, i. 113.

Issoo, the Upper Tondy, ii. 210.

Ivory, trade in Khartoom, i. 46;
traffic unimportant, i. 175;
Europeans in ivory trade, i. 177;
cost of, i. 503.

Izingerria—visit to, i. 547.

JACKALS, i. 236.

Jewish school, i. 330.

KAHPILY, the river, ii. 155.

Kamrasi, inquiries for, ii. 67.

Kanna, ambassadors from, ii. 55;
march to, ii. 240.

Karra, the magic tuber, ii. 399.

Keebaly, the river, ii. 151;
its rapids, ii. 158;
its identity with the Upper Shary, ii. 161.

Khalil, i. 188; ii. 302, 318, 409, 453.

Khareef, i. 324.

Khartoom: merchants of, i. 5;
arrival at, i. 42;
reception in, i. 44;
ivory trade of, i. 46;
ship-building at, i. 51;
return to, ii. 481.

Khaya-tree, i. 188.

Kher, Mohammed, i. 71.

Khor-el-Renuem, ii. 353.

Kigelin, i. 140.

Kilnoky, i. 231.

Kishy, bridge over the river, ii. 203.

Kissere (Arab bread), i. 249; ii. 252.

Kites, ii. 231.

Kobbe-trees (Humboldtia), i. 431.

Kokkorokoo, the tree, i. 469.

_Kosaria palmata_, i. 220.

Krapf, ii. 138.

KREDY: their appearance, ii. 367;
boundaries, ii. 368;
huts, ii. 375;
corn-magazines, ii. 376.

Kubby, ii. 157.

Kudy, village of, i. 170; ii. 466.

Kulongo, i. 233.

Kurbatches, ii. 317.

Kurdyook, Shol’s husband, i. 133; ii. 469.

Kurragera, southern limit of Aboo Sammat’s territory, i. 395.

Kurkur, ii. 273.

Kurshook Ali, the Sandjak, ii. 265;
his death, ii. 282.

Kussumbo, woods on the, i. 541; ii. 154.

Kyatt worm, i. 166.

Kyt, _cul-de-sac_ on the Gazelle, i. 124, 127; ii. 471.

LAO, its water, i. 143; ii. 467.

Lassav (_Capparis galeata_), i. 23.

Lavargue, French vice-consul at Berber, i. 39;
his death, ii. 486.

Leopard killed, ii. 255.

Lepidosiren, i. 135.

Le Saint, i. 129.

Leucotis antelopes, i. 196.

“L’homme à queue” told on the Nile, i. 68; ii. 2.

Lightning, women killed by, i. 317.

Lindukoo, last stream of Nile-system, i. 486, 493;
cataract on, i. 491; ii. 191.

Lions: limited in number, i. 361;
carrying off a soldier, i. 367;
track of a, ii. 156;
one shot, ii. 311.

Livingstone, Dr., i. 504; ii. 99, 186.

Lizards (_Agama colonorum_), i. 322.

Lollo, the river, ii. 477.

Longo, dirt in, ii. 340.

Loobah woman, i. 409.

MADIKAMM, ii. 201.

Madoqua antelopes, i. 244.

Maia Signora, i. 107; ii. 474.

Maize, i. 248;
preparation by Niam-niam, ii. 16;
in Mbomo’s district, ii. 254.

Mabzac, i. 337.

Manatus, in the Keebaly, ii. 160.

Mandeb (_Mimosa aspirata_), i. 61.

Manioc, bearer poisoned by, i. 476;
its cultivation, i. 525.

Manzilly, the brook, i. 458.

Maogoo, cattle from the, i. 546; ii. 69;
probable identity with the Malegga, ii. 85.

Marshes, mode of crossing, i. 498.

Matamma, on the Nile, i. 39.

Mbahly: nickname for Aboo Sammat, i. 481;
Munza’s inquiries for, ii. 38;
his challenge, ii. 177.

Mbarik-pah, the leaf-eater, i. 513; ii. 202.

Mbomo, the Seriba, ii. 247, 253.

Mbrwole, the river, i. 496; ii. 188, 189.

Mehemet Ali, ii. 431.

Menagerie, a, ii. 278.

Merdyan’s Seriba, ii. 204.

Meshera, i. 48;
arrival at the, i. 124;
the mode of anchoring in, i. 130;
start from the, i. 137;
embarkation from the, ii. 469.

Mice, i. 273.

Mimosa, stranding on a, ii. 260.

Minstrels, a Niam-niam, i. 445; ii. 30, 241.

Mirakok, i. 145.

MITTOO: tour in their country, i. 367;
language, i. 403;
fertility of soil, i. 405;
ornaments, i. 411;
bearers, i. 419;
value as slaves, ii. 419.

Mofio, ii. 389, 417.

Molmul, the river, ii. 273, 301.

Momvoo: goats of the, ii. 69;
their country, ii. 83.

MONBUTTOO: pipes, i. 548;
canoes, i. 555;
charm of country, i. 557;
halls, ii. 42;
their curiosity, ii. 53, 59;
women, ii. 60, 91;
reports of territory, ii. 81, 82;
government, ii. 86;
scenery, ii. 86;
produce, ii. 87;
hunting, ii. 89;
cannibalism, ii. 92;
potentates, ii. 96;
complexion, ii. 100;
dialect, ii. 102;
coiffure, ii. 106;
weapons, ii. 107, 111;
smelting, ii. 108;
tools, ii. 112;
benches, ii. 113;
shields and seat-rests, ii. 115;
water-bottles, ii. 116;
basket-work and musical instruments, ii. 117;
architecture, ii. 118;
religion, ii. 120.

Money, iron, i. 279.

Mongolongbo, valley of, i. 429.

Mongono, ii. 348.

Monkeys, i. 488.

Morokoh, the river, ii. 251.

Mummery, Munza’s brother, ii. 72, 74;
his body-guard of Akka, ii. 131.

Mundo, of the Bongo, i. 241; ii. 258.

Mundo in Zileï Mountains, ii. 210.

Mungala, Niam-niam game, ii. 28.

Muntass Bey, Governor of Suakin, i. 24.

Munza: messengers from, i. 556;
view of his palace, i. 558;
his friendship for Mohammed, ii. 37;
summons to, ii. 39;
waiting for, ii. 41;
his ornamental weapons, ii. 43, 94;
his costume and appearance, ii. 45;
presents for, ii. 47;
his mode of smoking, ii. 48;
his oration, ii. 51;
his present to me, ii. 52;
his sister, ii. 58;
his wives, ii. 58;
his castle, ii. 63;
his arsenal, ii. 64;
his dance, ii. 75;
his sleeping apartments, ii. 77;
visits from, ii. 77;
his dish, ii. 79;
his harem, ii. 96;
his household, ii. 97;
his wardrobe, ii. 98.

Murhaga, ii. 424.

_Musa sapientium_, i. 447.

Mvolo, district of, i. 384;
animals in, i. 387.

Mwata Yanvo, ii. 99.

NABAMBISSO, the river, ii. 193.

Nalengbe, Munza’s sister, ii. 58, 95.

Names of places, i. 194.

Ndoruma, ii. 309.

Nduppo, Wando’s brother, i. 478;
his death, i. 517.

Nembey, visit from, i. 540;
arrival at, ii. 153.

_Neophron pileatus_, i. 97.

Ngama, i. 411.

Nganye, a Niam-niam chieftain, i. 436;
visit to, i. 431;
his family, i. 450;
stay with, ii. 243.

Ngoly, i. 428; ii. 263.

Ngudoroo, the river, ii. 388.

Ngulfala, distillery in, i. 238; ii. 403.

NIAM-NIAM: first sight of, i. 189;
start to their country, i. 416;
their huts, i. 449;
their chiefs, i. 467;
modesty of the women, i. 471;
morning toilette, i. 491;
names of, ii. 3;
their country, ii. 3;
their appearance, ii. 5;
clothing, ii. 6;
head-gear, ii. 7;
decorations, ii. 8;
trumbashes, ii. 9;
weapons, ii. 10;
hunting and agriculture, ii. 12;
beer, ii. 13;
pipes, ii. 14;
dogs, ii. 15, 241;
architecture, ii. 20;
chieftains, ii. 21;
emblems of war, ii. 23;
handicraft, ii. 25;
greetings, ii. 27;
marriages and conjugal affection, ii. 28;
music, ii. 29;
dialect, ii. 31;
auguries, ii. 32;
superstition and treatment of dead, ii. 34;
attack by, ii. 236;
value as slaves, ii. 419.

Nile-boats, crowded, i. 50; ii. 478.

Nilometer, proposed, i. 41.

No, Lake, i. 111, 112.

Nsewne, the Akka, ii. 132;
his love of mischief, ii. 144.

NUBIANS: their pitiable condition, i. 41;
their superstitions, i. 49; ii. 322;
how to deal with them, i. 421;
their inconsistency, ii. 165;
their dislike to pure water, ii. 275;
soldiers, i. 176.

Nueir, district of the, i. 117;
their habits, i. 119.

Nyemata, Mount, i. 67.

Nyitti, i. 251.

_Nymphæa stellata and N. lotus_, i. 114.

O-BONGO, ii. 135.

Oil palm, ii. 89;
oil from, ii. 92.

O-mareg, summer retreat from Suakin, i. 31.

Ombet (dragon-tree), i. 22.

Ori, Dr., letter to Antinori, ii. 80;
his death, ii. 486.

Oysters, river, ii. 452.

PAPYRUS, i. 109;
at the Kyt, i. 126.

Parkia-trees, ii. 339.

Parley with Niam-niam chiefs, ii. 169.

_Parra africanus_, i. 136.

Parrots, grey, ii. 9.

Peneeo, the behnky, i. 436.

Penicillaria, i. 248.

Pepper, cayenne, i. 253;
malaghetta, i. 468;
Ashantee, ii. 382.

Petherick, i. 127.

Piaggia, his visit to the Niam-niam, i. 434, 504;
inquiries about, i. 480; ii. 56;
his lake, ii. 65.

Pillen-wasp (_Eumenes tinctor_), i. 321.

Plantains, i. 198; ii. 87, 88.

_Platycerium elephantotis_, i. 538.

_Plotus melanogaster_, i. 114.

_Polopterus bichir_, i. 135, 232.

Poncet, the brothers, contract with the government, i. 382;
their settlement, i. 393.

Pongo, the river, ii. 344.

Popukky grass, i. 437, 447.

Port Rek, i. 125; ii. 467.

Posts, memorial, i. 517.

Pushyoh, a Treculia, i. 528.

Pygmies: my incredulity about, i. 68;
exchange a dog for a pygmy, ii. 67;
stories about, ii. 153.
(_Vide_ Akka.)

_Python Sebæ_, killed near Fashoda, i. 83;
and antelope killed together, i. 364.

QUININE, i. 128;
value of, i. 323.

RAINFALL, ii. 281.

_Raphia vinifera_, i. 199;
used for building, ii. 42.

Rats, ii. 405.

Red Sea, voyage on, i. 11;
heat on, i. 15;
nights on, i. 18.

Reed-rats, ii. 384;
hunting, ii. 408, 446.

Reggo, i. 392.

Rek, Port, i. 125; ii. 467.

Rhinoceros-bird (_Tetmoceras abyssinicus_), ii. 205.

Rice, i. 247.

Riharn, my cook, i. 60, 486; ii. 204.

Rikkete, Wando’s brother, i. 479;
entertaining, i. 486;
visit to, i. 487;
his wives, i. 489.

Roah, the river, i. 367.

Rock rabbits, i. 385.

Rohl, the river, i. 376, 401.

Rokko-coats of Monbuttoo, ii. 104.

Rokooba, ii. 289.

Roway, salt-works at, i. 16.

Rye, the river, i. 448.

SABBY (Seriba), i. 337, 340; ii. 264.

Sablook, i. 40.

Salt-works at Cape Roway, i. 16.

Sarcocephalus, i. 192.

Schweinfurthia, i. 35.

Scorbutic attack, ii. 381.

Scorpions, ii. 456.

Seebehr Rahama, ii. 329;
his Seriba, ii. 354;
his court, ii. 361;
departure from, ii. 374.

Sehre, ii. 395, 397, 401.

Seriba, i. 47;
Ghattas’s, i. 172;
destruction of a, i. 225;
law, i. 226;
controllers of, ii. 426;
Shereefee’s, i. 340.

Sesame, i. 229.

Seyleb (_Sanseviera_), i. 22.

Shary, identity with the Welle, i. 553.

Shekka, ii. 370.

Shereefee, his Seriba Duggoo, i. 343;
his Seriba Dogguddoo, i. 344;
dearth in his Seribas. ii. 267;
attacks Mohammed, ii. 85;
shielded by the Aga, ii. 358.

SHILLOOKS: first sight of, i. 72;
statistics, i. 85;
their villages, i. 87;
their animals, i. 91;
pursuit by, i. 101;
market, i. 101; ii. 471.

Shipbuilding in Khartoom, i. 51.

Shol, the Dinka queen, i. 141;
her riches and influence, i. 131;
her appearance, i. 132;
presents to, i. 134;
her death, ii. 338;
remains of her huts, ii. 469.

Shoosh-grass (_Panicum turgidum_), i. 53.

Short rations, ii. 196.

Singat, i. 24.

Skins, abundance of, i. 481.

Skulls, purchase of, ii. 54;
in Berlin Museum, ii. 32.

Slaves crowded in boats, i. 50; ii. 478;
as payment to soldiers, i. 175;
dying of starvation, i. 346;
feeding a caravan of, i. 368;
complaints of female, i. 390;
cruelty to, ii. 414;
price of, ii. 418;
comparative value of, ii. 419;
number of, ii. 420;
as soldiers, ii. 421;
private, ii. 422;
employed in husbandry, ii. 425;
treatment in Egypt, ii. 436;
on board the Nile boat, ii. 470;
at Wod Shellay, ii. 480;
confiscation of, ii. 483.

Slave-dealer from Tunis, i. 189.

Slave-trade: independent of ivory trade, i. 46;
population of Bongo-land diminished by, i. 260;
tacitly acknowledged, i. 381;
all enterprises involved in, i. 383;
flourishing in 1870 and 1871, ii. 410;
sources of, ii. 428;
abolition of, ii. 433;
measures taken in Fanekama against, ii. 478.

Slave-traders: iniquity of, i. 190;
rendezvous at Shekka for, ii. 370;
goods bartered by, ii. 411;
description of, ii. 412;
risks incurred by, ii. 415;
hospitality shown to, ii. 416;
classes of, ii. 417.

Smelting-furnaces: of the Dyoor, i. 207;
of the Bongo, i. 208, 278.

Sobat, the river, i. 100.

_Soirée musicale_ of the Bongo, i. 354.

Soldiers: Nubian, i. 176;
black, i. 483.

Soliman, son of Kurshook Ali, ii. 452.

Solar phenomenon, i. 326.

Solongoh, ii. 389.

Sorghum, i. 245; ii. 252.

Sources of slave-trade, ii. 428.

Sparmannia, ii. 200.

Speke, i. 113, 319; ii. 126.

_Spiro streptus_, i. 214.

Squirrels (_Sciurus leucumbrinus_), i. 387.

Steps counted in walking, ii. 300.

Sterculia, ii. 393.

Steudner, Dr., i. 129;
death of, ii. 337.

Suæda (samphire), i. 17.

Suakin, sea-route to, i. 10;
excursion from, i. 19;
return to, ii. 488.

Suez, blunders in telegram, i. 7;
scenes in governor’s divan, i. 8, 9;
canal, i. 10.

Sugar-canes, i. 547.

Sulphur-works at Gimsah, i. 12.

Sun, eclipse of, i. 11.

Suppression of slave-trade, suggestions for, ii. 439.

Surroor, Aboo Sammat’s lieutenant, i. 465;
his mbanga, i. 470;
speaks Arabic, i. 473.

Swamp-men, i. 119.

Sway, the river, identical with the Dyoor, i. 453;
crossing the, ii. 228.

Swords, ii. 457.

TAKE, village of, i. 145; ii. 467.

Telegram, i. 7; ii. 482.

Terminalia, i. 426.

Thibaud, ii. 482.

Tikkitikki, ii. 133;
parting from friends, ii. 149;
successful shooting, ii. 278, 450;
illness and death, ii. 486.

Tinné, Miss, fatality of expedition, i. 129;
her headquarters, ii. 332;
her mother, ii. 338.

Tobacco, i. 160, 214, 254, 269; ii. 14, 87.

Tokkuls, i. 178.

Tombo, king, i. 480.

Tondy, the river, i. 181;
passage over, i. 336;
suspension-bridge over, ii. 43, 44;
crossing the, ii. 269.

Transport, means of, i. 139; ii. 305;
suggestion for, ii. 307.

Travelling costume, i. 425.

_Troglodytes niger_, i. 519.

Trumbash, i. 441; ii. 9.

Trumpet-tree, ii. 157.

Tubers, i. 250, 268, 445.

Tudyee, the river, i. 366, 426.

Tuhamy, arrival of, i. 542;
his Seriba, ii. 201, 209.

Turks, ii. 359.

_Urostigma Kotschyana_, ii. 88;
bast of, ii. 102.

_Usnea_ (beard-moss), i. 26.

Uzze, the river, i. 477.

VALISNERIA, in the Gazelle, i. 123.

Vasel, ii. 485.

Vayssière, the French hunter, i. 185.

Vegetation of Nile displaced by civilization, i. 69.

Viceroy, _bon mot_ of, i. 113;
small power of, ii. 441.

_Victoria regia_, attempt to naturalize, i. 121.

Vine, wild, ii. 234.

_Vivera genetta_, i. 490.

WANDO: animosity of, i. 482;
river of, i. 496;
Mohammed’s interview with, i. 501, 504;
his nonchalance, i. 505;
his present of food, i. 511;
his augury, ii. 33, 49.

Watches, ii. 299.

Water, bad, ii. 400.

—— -birds, ii. 315.

—— -lilies, i. 114.

—— -plants, i. 121.

—— -shed of Nile, i. 494.

Welle, the river, i. 548, 554.

White-ants: their hills, i. 120;
of the trees, i. 539;
as food, ii. 197.

White Nile, embarkation on, i. 49.

Widow-ducks, i. 121.

Wild boar shot, i. 363.

Wod Shellay, i. 56; ii. 480.

Wounds, Mittoo treatment of, i. 371;
by arrows, ii. 279;
Dyoor treatment of, ii. 334.

Wow, the Seriba, i. 91.

Wow, the river, i. 190; ii. 333.

YABO, i. 476.

Yabongo, i. 476; ii. 193.

Yams, i. 250.

Yanga’s grave, i. 285.

Yolo-antelopes, ii. 446.

Yubbo, the river, i. 478; ii. 192.

Yumma, Kurshook Ali’s Vokeel, ii. 384, 389.

Yuroo, i. 531.

ZAWA-TREES, i. 447; ii. 200.

Zebra-ichneumon, i. 358.

Zileï Mountains, ii. 210.

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twenty-two hitherto quite unknown rivers, the wonderful land of the
Monbuttoo, his reception by King Munza, horrible cannibalism, fights
with natives and struggles with wild animals, adventures on rivers, on
mountains, and in jungles; and, in short, experiences of the most novel
and startling kind that could be imagined in an unknown and savage
country.

The work will form two volumes, demy 8vo., of upwards of 500 pages
each, and will be illustrated by about 130 woodcuts from drawings
made by the author—comprising figures of different races of men;
animals, domestic and wild; remarkable fish and snakes; varieties of
trees, plants, and fruits; landscapes; forest scenery; watered plains;
episodes of the journey; cannibal feasts and dances; fording rivers;
villages and huts; night encampments; meetings with chieftains; weapons
of war, &c. &c.; with maps and plans.

_It is proposed that the work shall be published in England and America
(in English), and in the respective languages of Germany, France,
Russia, Italy, &c., simultaneously, and arrangements are now in
progress for this purpose; and the Publishers hope to have it ready for
publication during the present Autumn._

_SPECIAL NOTICE._

_New Story for Youths by_ H. M. STANLEY.

=“MY KALLULU,” PRINCE, KING, AND SLAVE.=

_A Story from Central Africa._

BY HENRY M. STANLEY,

Author of “How I found Livingstone.”

Crown 8vo., about 430 pp., with numerous Graphic Illustrations,
after Original Designs by the Author. Cloth, 7_s._ 6_d._
[_In October._

_For the convenience of those who did not care to pay so high a
price as 21s. for the original Edition of_ MR. STANLEY’S _first
great Work, it is now offered, in a new and elegant binding,
with a revised Introductory Chapter, at 10s. 6d. In this form
and at this price it will form an excellent School Prize or
Christmas Present._

=HOW I FOUND LIVINGSTONE.=

_Including Travels, Adventures, and Discoveries in Central Africa,
and Four Months’ Residence with Dr. Livingstone._

BY H. M. STANLEY.

Numerous Illustrations by Mr. J. B. ZWECKER, Mr. JOHN JELLICOE, and
other Artists, from Mr. STANLEY’S own Sketches, with Maps of Route,
Physical Features, &c. Twelfth Thousand. New issue, in new binding,
gilt edges, extra cloth, 10_s._ 6_d._ [_Now ready._

_Magnificent Work on the Pottery of all Ages and all Nations._

=HISTORY OF THE CERAMIC ART:=

Descriptive and Analytical Study of the Potteries of all Times
and of all Nations.

BY ALBERT JACQUEMART.

Author of the “History of Porcelain,” “The Wonders of
Ceramic,” &c.

Two hundred Woodcuts by H. CATENACCI and J. JACQUEMART, 12 Steel-plate
Engravings by JULES JACQUEMART, and 1,000 Marks and Monograms.
Translated by Mrs. BURY PALLISER. In 1 vol., super royal 8vo.,
of about 700 pp., cloth extra, gilt edges, 42_s._ [_Nearly ready._

_In One Volume, Demy 8vo., cloth extra, price about 16s._

=THE LAND OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT;=
SIGHTS AND SCENES IN SOUTH EASTERN ASIA.

A Personal Narrative of Travel and Adventure in Farther India,
embracing the countries of Burma, Siam, Cambodia, and Cochin-China
(1871-72).

BY FRANK VINCENT, JUN.

With Map, Plans, and numerous Illustrations.
[_Nearly ready._

_New Works by the celebrated French Writer_, JULES VERNE.

1.
=THE FUR COUNTRY; OR, SEVENTY DEGREES
NORTH LATITUDE.=

BY JULES VERNE. TRANSLATED BY N. D’ANVERS.

A Story of remarkable Adventures in the Northern Regions of the
Hudson’s Bay Territory. Crown 8vo. with upwards of 80 very graphic
full-page Illustrations. Cloth extra. Uniform in size and style with
“Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea.” Price 10_s._ 6_d._
[_In October._

2.
=FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON; AND A
TRIP ROUND IT.=

BY JULES VERNE. TRANSLATED BY L. P. MERCIER.

With numerous characteristic Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Uniform in size
and price with the above. Cloth, gilt edges, 10_s._ 6_d._ [_Ready._

3.
=AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS.=

BY JULES VERNE.

Square crown 8vo. With numerous Illustrations. Uniform in size and
style with “Meridiana,” by the same author. Price 7_s._ 6_d._
[_Nearly ready._

_One Vol., Demy 8vo., cloth, with numerous woodcuts and a map._

=THE WILD NORTH LAND:=

The Story of a Winter Journey with dogs across Northern
North America.

BY CAPTAIN W. F. BUTLER,

Author of “The Great Lone Land.” [_In November._

=A WHALING CRUISE TO BAFFIN’S BAY AND
THE GULF OF BOOTHIA.=

With an Account of the Rescue, by his Ship, of the survivors of the
Crew of the “Polaris.”

BY CAPTAIN MARKHAM, R.N.

One Volume, demy 8vo., with Map and Illustrations, cloth extra.

_Now Ready, in One Volume, demy 8vo., with Maps and Illustrations,
cloth extra, 16s._

=THE THRESHOLD OF THE UNKNOWN
REGION.=

BY CLEMENTS R. MARKHAM, C.B., F.R.S.

Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society. [_Now ready._

_IN PREPARATION FOR PUBLICATION IN DECEMBER._

_In Two Volumes, Royal 8vo., cloth extra, numerous Woodcuts, Maps, and
Chromolithographs._

=THE SECOND NORTH GERMAN POLAR EXPEDITION
IN THE YEARS 1869-70.=

Of the Ships “Germania” and “Hansa,” under command of
Captain Koldeway,

EDITED AND CONDENSED BY H. W. Bates, ESQ.,

Of the Royal Geographical Society.

_Important Work on Peru._

=TWO YEARS IN PERU; WITH EXPLORATION
OF ITS ANTIQUITIES.=

BY THOMAS J. HUTCHINSON, F.R.G.S., F.R.S.L., F.A.I.,

Map by DANIEL BARRERA, and numerous Illustrations. In 1 vol., demy
8vo., cloth extra. [_In the press._

_New Work on Morocco._

=ADVENTURES IN MOROCCO, AND JOURNEY
SOUTH THROUGH THE OASES OF
DRAA AND TAFILET.=

BY DR. GERHARD ROHLFS. EDITED BY Winwood Reade.

1 vol., crown 8vo., Map and Portrait of the Author, cloth extra.
[_In the press._

_Magnificent Work on China._

=ILLUSTRATIONS OF CHINA AND ITS PEOPLE=

BY J. THOMSON, F.R.G.S.

Being Photographs from the Author’s Negatives, printed in permanent
Pigments by the Autotype Process, and Notes from Personal Observation.

∵ The complete work will embrace 200 Photographs, with Letterpress
Descriptions of the Places and People represented. In four volumes,
imperial 4to., price £3 3_s._ each volume. The First Volume, containing
Fifty Photographs, was published in the Spring; and the Second Volume,
containing Photographs as below, is now ready.

Subscribers ordering the Four Volumes at once will be supplied for £10
10_s._ half of which to be paid on receipt of Vol. I., and balance on
completion of the Work. Non-Subscribers’ price is £3 3_s._ a Volume.

VOLUME III. is in active preparation, and will be Published before
Christmas.

_A most beautiful Christmas Present._

=WOMAN IN SACRED HISTORY.=

BY MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

Illustrated with 15 chromo-lithographs and about 200 pages of
letterpress forming one of the most elegant and attractive Volumes
ever published. Demy 4to., cloth extra, gilt edges, price 25_s._
[_In November._

NEW WORK BY THE REV. E. H. BICKERSTETH.

_One Volume square 8vo., with Numerous very beautiful Engravings,
uniform in Character with the Illustrated Edition of Heber’s
Hymns, &c., price 7s. 6d._

=THE REEF, AND OTHER PARABLES.=

By the Rev. E. H. BICKERSTETH, M.A., Author of “Yesterday, To-day,
and for Ever,” &c. [_Nearly Ready._

=CARL WERNER’S NILE SKETCHES,=

Painted from Nature during his Travels through Egypt. Facsimiles of
Water-colour Paintings executed by Gustave W. Seitz, with Descriptive
Text by Dr. E. A. BREHM and Dr. DUMICHEN. Third Series. Imperial folio,
in Cardboard Wrapper, £3 10_s._

_Beautiful Work for Winter Evenings. Dedicated, by Permission, to
His Royal Highness, Prince Leopold._

=ILLUSTRATED GAMES OF PATIENCE.=

By the LADY ADELAIDE CADOGAN. Twenty-four Diagrams in Colours, with
Descriptive Text. Foolscap 4to., cloth extra, gilt edges, 12_s._ 6_d._

=THE ROYAL PASTRY AND CONFECTIONERY
BOOK=

(Le livre de Patisserie). By JULES GOUFFE, Chef de Cuisine of the Paris
Jockey Club. Translated from the French and adapted to English use by
ALPHONSE GOUFFE, Head Pastrycook to Her Majesty the Queen. Illustrated
with 10 large Plates printed in Colours, and 137 Engravings on Wood,
after the Oil Paintings and Designs of E. RONJAT. Royal 8vo., cloth
extra. [_In the Press._

_Important New Work by Professor Guyot._

=PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY.=

BY ARNOLD GUYOT, Author of “Earth and Man.” In 1 Volume, large 4to.,
128 pp., numerous coloured Diagrams, Maps and Woodcuts, price 10_s._
6_d._, strong boards.

=HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN AMBULANCE,=

Established in Paris during the Siege of 1870-71. Together with the
Details of its Method and its Work. By THOMAS W. EVANS, M.D., D.D.S.,
Ph. D., President of the American International Sanitary Committee,
&c., Author of “La Commission Sanitaire des Etats Unis: son Origine,
son Organisation et ses Resultats,” &c. In 1 Volume, Imperial 8vo.,
with numerous Illustrations, cloth extra, price 35_s._ [_Now Ready._

_Preparing for publication in one handsome small 4to., cloth gilt edges,
price 15s._

=PHYNNODDERREE, AND OTHER TALES:=

Fairy Legends of the Isle of Man. By EDWARD MCALOE. To be profusely
Illustrated with upwards of 120 Engravings on Wood.

=THE POSTHUMOUS WORKS AND UNPUBLISHED
AUTOGRAPHS OF NAPOLEON III.
IN EXILE.=

Collected and arranged by COUNT DE LA CHAPELLE, Coadjutor in the last
Works of the Emperor at Chislehurst. 1 Volume demy 8vo., cloth extra,
14_s._ [_Now Ready._

=RECOLLECTIONS OF THE EMPEROR
NAPOLEON I.=

During the First Three Years of his Captivity on the Island of St.
Helena Including the time of his Residence at her father’s house, “The
Briars.” By Mrs. ABELL (late Miss Elizabeth Balcombe). Third Edition.
Revised throughout with additional matter by her daughter, Mrs. CHARLES
JOHNSTONE. 1 Volume, demy 8vo. With Steel Portrait of Mrs. Abell, and
Woodcut Illustrations. Cloth extra, gilt edges, 10_s._ 6_d._
[_Now Ready._

=ENGLISH MATRONS AND THEIR PROFESSION;=

With some Considerations as to its Various Branches, its National
Value, and the Education it requires. By M. L. F., Writer of “My Life,
and what shall I do with it,” “Battle of the Two Philosophies,” and
“Strong and Free.” Crown 8vo., cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._ [_Now Ready._

“All States among which the regulations regarding women are bad, enjoy
scarcely the half of happiness.”—ARISTOTLE.

SPECIAL NOTICE.—_The long-desired Map to Mr. King’s Work has
now been added, and also a Chapter of entirely new matter.
(Dedicated to Professor Tyndal.)_

=MOUNTAINEERING IN THE SIERRA NEVADA.=

By CLARENCE KING. Crown 8vo. Fourth and Cheaper Edition. Cloth extra,
with Map and Additional Chapter, 6_s._ [_Nearly Ready._

=A CHRONICLE OF THE FERMORS; HORACE
WALPOLE IN LOVE.=

By M. F. MAHONY (Matthew Stradling), Author of “The Misadventures of
Mr. Catlyn,” “The Irish Bar-sinister,” &c. In 2 Volumes, Demy 8vo.,
with Steel Portrait. [_In the Press._

=MILITARY LIFE IN PRUSSIA.=
First Series. The Soldier in Time of Peace. Translated (by permission of
the Author) from the German of F. W. Häcklander. By F. E. R. and H.
E. R. Crown 8vo., cloth extra, 9_s._ [_Now Ready._

_University Local Examinations._

=ST. MARK’S GOSPEL.=

With Explanatory Notes. For the Use of Schools and Colleges. By GEORGE
BOWKER, late Second Master of the Newport Grammar School, Isle of
Wight. 1 Volume, foolscap, cloth. [_In Preparation._

_NEW NOVELS._

_Victor Hugo’s New Novel._

=IN THE YEAR ’93 (QUATRE-VINGT TREIZE).=

Three Volumes, crown 8vo. [_In Preparation._

This work, which will be published simultaneously in France, England,
and America, is said to surpass in style and dramatic interest anything
that Victor Hugo has yet produced.

_New Work by the Author of “Lorna Doone.”_

=ALICE LORRAINE;=

A Tale of the South Downs. Three Volumes, crown 8vo.
[_In Preparation._

=IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.=

Two Volumes, crown 8vo., cloth, 21_s._ [_Now Ready._

=BETTER THAN GOLD.=

By Mrs. ARNOLD, Author of “His by Right,” “John Hesketh’s Charge,”
“Under Foot,” &c. In 3 Volumes, crown 8vo., 31_s._ 6_d._
[_In the Press._

_New Work by Hain Friswell, Author of “The Gentle Life,” &c._

=OUR SQUARE CIRCLE.=

Two Volumes, crown 8vo., cloth, 21_s._ [_In the Press._

_New Work of Fiction by Georgiana M. Craik._

=ONLY A BUTTERFLY.=

One Volume, crown 8vo., cloth, 10_s._ 6_d._ [_Now Ready._

=ARGUS FAIRBAIRNE; OR, A WRONG NEVER
RIGHTED.=

By HENRY JACKSON, Author of “Hearth Ghosts,” &c. Three Volumes, crown
8vo., cloth, 31_s._ 6_d._ [_In the Press._

_New Volume of the John Halifax Series of Girls’ Books._

=MISS MOORE.=

By GEORGIANA M. CRAIK. Small post 8vo., with Illustrations, gilt
edges, 4_s._ [_Nearly Ready._

_Crown Buildings, 188, Fleet Street,
London, October, 1873._

A List of Books

PUBLISHING BY
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, LOW, & SEARLE.

[Illustration]

ALPHABETICAL LIST.

=Abbott (J. S. C.) History of Frederick the Great=, with numerous
Illustrations. 8vo. 1_l._ 1_s._

=About in the World=, by the author of “The Gentle Life.” Crown
8vo. bevelled cloth, 4th edition. 6_s._

=Adamson (Rev. T. H.) The Gospel according to St. Matthew=,
expounded. 8vo. 12_s._

=Adventures of a Young Naturalist.= By LUCIEN BIART, with 117
beautiful Illustrations on Wood. Edited and adapted by PARKER
GILLMORE, author of “All Round the World,” “Gun, Rod, and
Saddle,” &c. Post 8vo. cloth extra, gilt edges, new edition,
7_s._ 6_d._

“The adventures are charmingly narrated.”—_Athenæum._

=Adventures of a Brownie.= _See_ =Craik, Mrs.=

=Adventures on the Great Hunting Grounds of the World=, translated
from the French of Victor Meunier, with engravings, 2nd edition.
5_s._

“The book for all boys in whom the love of travel and adventure
is strong. They will find here plenty to amuse them and much to
instruct them besides.”—_Times._

=Alcott, (Louisa M.) Aunt Jo’s Scrap-Bag.= Square 16mo, 3_s._ 6_d._

=—— Little Men: Life at Plumfield with Jo’s Boys.= By the author
of “Little Women.” Small post 8vo. cloth, gilt edges, 3_s._
6_d._ Cheap edition, cloth, 2_s._; fancy boards, 1_s._ 6_d._

=—— Little Women.= Complete in 1 vol. fcap. 3_s._ 6_d._ Cheap
edition, 2 vols. cloth, 2_s._; boards, 1_s._ 6_d._ each.

=—— Old Fashioned Girl=, best edition, small post 8vo. cloth
extra, gilt edges, 3_s._ 6_d._; Low’s Copyright Series, 1_s._
6_d._; cloth, 2_s._

The _Guardian_ says of “Little Women,” that it is—“A bright,
cheerful, healthy story—with a tinge of thoughtful gravity
about it which reminds one of John Bunyan.” The _Athenæum_ says
of “Old-Fashioned Girl”—“Let whoever wishes to read a bright,
spirited, wholesome story, get the ‘Old Fashioned Girl’ at once.”

=—— Shawl Straps.= Small post 8vo. Cloth extra,
gilt edges, 3_s._ 6_d._

=—— Work, a Story of Experience.= 2 vols. cr. 8vo. 21_s._

=Allston (Captain).= _See_ =Ready, O Ready=.

=Alexander (Sir James E.) Bush Fighting.= Illustrated by Remarkable
Actions and Incidents of the Maori War. With a Map, Plans, and
Woodcuts. 1 vol. demy 8vo. pp. 328, cloth extra, 16_s._

“This book tells the story of the late war in New Zealand, with
its many desperate encounters and exciting personal adventures,
and tells that story well.”—_Naval and Military Gazette._

“This is a valuable history of the Maori war.”—_Standard._

=Alexander (W. D. S.) The Lonely Guiding Star.= A Legend of the
Pyrenean Mountains and other Poems. Fcap. 8vo. cloth. 5_s._

=Among the Arabs=, a Narrative of Adventures in Algeria, by G.
NAPHEGYI, M. D., A. M. 7_s._ 6_d._

=Andersen (Hans Christian) The Story of My Life.= 8vo. 10_s._ 6_d._

=—— Fairy Tales=, with Illustrations in Colours by E. V. B. Royal
4to. cloth. 1_l._ 5_s._

=Andrews (Dr.) Latin-English Lexicon.= 13th edition. Royal 8vo. pp.
1,670, cloth extra. Price 18_s._

The superiority of this justly-famed Lexicon is retained over
all others by the fulness of its Quotations, the including in
the Vocabulary Proper Names, the distinguishing whether the
Derivative is classical or otherwise, the exactness of the
References to the Original Authors, and by the price.

“The best Latin Dictionary, whether for the scholar or advanced
student.”—_Spectator._

“Every page bears the impress of industry and care.”—_Athenæum._

=Anecdotes of the Queen and Royal Family=, collected and edited by
J. G. HODGINS, with Illustrations. New edition, revised by JOHN
TIMBS. 5_s._

=Angell (J. K.) A Treatise on the Law of Highways.= 8vo. 1_l._ 5_s._

=Arctic Regions (The).= Illustrated. _See_ =Bradford=.

=—— German Polar Expedition.= _See_ =Koldeway=.

=—— Explorations.= _See_ =Markham=.

=Around the World.= _See_ =Prime=.

=Art, Pictorial and Industrial=, Vol. 1, 1_l._ 11_s._ 6_d._ Vols. 2
and 3, 18_s._ each.

=Atmosphere (The).= _See_ =Flammarion=.

=Aunt Jo’s Scrap Bag.= _See_ =Alcott=.

=Australian Tales=, by the “Old Boomerang.” Post 8vo. 5_s._

=Back-Log Studies.= _See_ =Warner=.

=Baldwin (J. D.) Prehistoric Nations.= 12mo. 4_s._ 6_d._

=—— Ancient America=, in notes of American Archæology. Crown 8vo.
10_s._ 6_d._

=Bancroft’s History of America.= Library edition, vols. 1 to 9,
8vo. 5_l._ 8_s._

=—— History of America=, Vol. X. (completing the Work.) 8vo.
12_s._ [_In the press._

=Barber (E. C.) The Crack Shot.= Post 8vo. 8_s._ 6_d._

=Barnes’s (Rev. A.) Lectures on the Evidences of Christianity in
the 19th Century.= 12mo. 7_s._ 6_d._

=Barnum (P. T.) Struggles and Triumphs.= Crown 8vo. Fancy boards.
2_s._ 6_d._

=Barrington (Hon. and Rev. L. J.) From Ur to Macpelah=; the Story
of Abraham. Crown 8vo., cloth, 5_s._

=THE BAYARD SERIES.= Comprising Pleasure Books of Literature
produced in the Choicest Style as Companionable Volumes at Home
and Abroad.

_Price 2s. 6d. each Volume, complete in itself, printed at the
Chiswick Press, bound by Burn, flexible cloth extra, gilt
leaves, with silk Headbands and Registers._

=The Story of the Chevalier Bayard.= By M. DE BERVILLE.

=De Joinville’s St. Louis, King of France.=

=The Essays of Abraham Cowley=, including all his Prose Works.

=Abdallah; or, the Four Leaves.= By _Edouard Laboullaye_.

=Table-Talk and Opinions of Napoleon Buonaparte.=

=Vathek: An Oriental Romance.= By WILLIAM BECKFORD.

=The King and the Commons=: a Selection of Cavalier and Puritan
Song. Edited by Prof. MORLEY.

=Words of Wellington=: Maxims and Opinions of the Great Duke.

=Dr. Johnson’s Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia.= With Notes.

=Hazlitt’s Round Table.= With Biographical Introduction.

=The Religio Medici, Hydriotaphia, and the Letter to a Friend.= By
Sir THOMAS BROWNE, Knt.

=Ballad Poetry of the Affections.= By ROBERT BUCHANAN.

=Coleridge’s Christabel=, and other Imaginative Poems. With Preface
by ALGERNON C. SWINBURNE.

=Lord Chesterfield’s Letters, Sentences and Maxims.= With
Introduction by the Editor, and Essay on Chesterfield by M. De
St. Beuve, of the French Academy.

=Essays in Mosaic.= By THOS. BALLANTYNE.

=My Uncle Toby; his Story and his Friends.= Edited by P. FITZGERALD.

=Reflections=; or, Moral Sentences and Maxims of the Duke de la
Rochefoucauld.

=Socrates, Memoirs for English Readers from Xenophon’s
Memorabilia.= By EDW. LEVIEN.

=Prince Albert’s Golden Precepts.=

_A suitable Case containing 12 volumes, price 31s. 6d.;
or the Case separate, price 3s. 6d._

EXTRACTS FROM LITERARY NOTICES.

“The present series—taking its name from the opening
volume, which contained a translation of the Knight without
Fear and without Reproach—will really, we think, fill a
void in the shelves of all except the most complete English
libraries. These little square-shaped volumes contain, in a
very manageable and pretty form, a great many things not very
easy of access elsewhere, and some things for the first time
brought together.”—_Pall Mall Gazette._ “We have here two more
volumes of the series appropriately called the ‘Bayard,’ as
they certainly are ‘sans reproche.’ Of convenient size, with
clear typography and tasteful binding, we know no other little
volumes which make such good gift-books for persons of mature
age.”—_Examiner._ “St. Louis and his companions, as described
by Joinville, not only in their glistening armour, but in their
every-day attire, are brought nearer to us, become intelligible
to us, and teach us lessons of humanity which we can learn from
men only, and not from saints and heroes. Here lies the real
value of real history. It widens our minds and our hearts, and
gives us that true knowledge of the world and of human nature in
all its phases which but few can gain in the short span of their
own life, and in the narrow sphere of their friends and enemies.
We can hardly imagine a better book for boys to read or for men
to ponder over.”—_Times._

=Beecher (Henry Ward, D. D.) Life Thoughts.= Complete in 1 vol.
12mo. 2_s._ 6_d._

=—— Sermons Selected.= 12mo. 8_s._ 6_d._

=—— Norwood, or Village Life in New England.= Crown 8vo. 6_s._

=—— (Dr. Lyman) Life and Correspondence of.= 2 vols. post 8vo.
1_l._ 1_s._

=Bees and Beekeeping.= By the _Times’_ Beemaster. Illustrated.
Crown 8vo. New Edition, with additions. 2_s._ 6_d._

=Bell (Rev. C. D.) Faith in Earnest.= 18mo. 1_s._ 6_d._

=—— Blanche Nevile.= Fcap. 8vo. 6_s._

=Bellows (A. J.) The Philosophy of Eating.= Post 8vo. 7_s._ 6_d._

=—— How not to be Sick, a Sequel to Philosophy of Eating.= Post
8vo. 7_s._ 6_d._

=Bickersteth’s Hymnal Companion to Book of Common Prayer.=

_The following Editions are now ready_:—
_s._ _d._
No. 1. A Small-type Edition, medium 32mo. cloth limp 0 6
No. 1. B ditto roan limp, red edges 1 0
No. 1. C ditto morocco limp, gilt edges 2 0

No. 2. Second-size type, super-royal 32mo. cloth limp 1 0
No. 2. A ditto roan limp, red edges 2 0
No. 2. B ditto morocco limp, gilt edges 3 0

No. 3. Large-type Edition, crown 8vo. cloth, red edges 2 6
No. 3. A ditto roan limp, red edges 3 6
No. 3. B ditto morocco limp, gilt edges 5 6

No. 4. Large-type Edition, crown 8vo. with Introduction
and Notes, cloth, red edges 3 6
No. 4. A ditto roan limp, red edges 4 6
No. 4. B ditto morocco, gilt edges 6 6

No. 5. Crown 8vo. with accompanying Tunes to every
Hymn, New Edition 3 0
No. 5. A ditto with Chants 4 0
No. 5. B The Chants separately 1 6

No. 6. Penny Edition.
Fcap. 4to. Organists’ edition. Cloth, 7_s._ 6_d._

∵ _A liberal allowance is made to Clergymen introducing
the Hymnal._

☞ THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER, bound with THE HYMNAL COMPANION.
32mo. cloth, 9_d._ And in various superior bindings.

=Benedict (F. L.) Miss Dorothy’s Charge.= 3 vols. 31_s._ 6_d._

=Biart (L.) Adventures of a Young Naturalist.= (See _Adventures_.)

=Bickersteth (Rev. E. H., M.A.) The Master’s Home-Call; Or, Brief
Memorials of Alice Frances Bickersteth.= 3rd Edition. 32mo.
cloth gilt. 1_s._

“They recall in a touching manner a character of which the
religious beauty has a warmth and grace almost too tender to be
definite.”—_The Guardian._

=—— The Shadow of the Rock. A Selection of Religious Poetry.=
18mo. Cloth extra. 2_s._ 6_d._

=Bigelow (John) France and Hereditary Monarchy.= 8vo. 3_s._

=Bishop (J. L.) History of American Manufacture.= 3 vols. 8vo.
2_l._ 5_s._

=—— (J. P.) First Book of the Law.= 8vo. 1_l._ 1_s._

=Bits of Talk about Home Matters.= By H. H. Fcap. 8vo. cloth gilt
edges. 3_s._

=Black (Wm.)= Uniform Editions:

=—— Kilmeny: a Novel.= Small Post 8vo. cloth. 6_s._

=—— In Silk Attire.= 3rd and cheaper edition, small post 8vo.
6_s._

“A work which deserves a hearty welcome for its skill and power
in delineation of character.”—_Saturday Review._

“A very charming book.”—_Pall Mall Gazette._

“As a story it is all absorbing.”—_Spectator._

=—— A Daughter of Heth.= 11th and cheaper edition, crown 8vo.,
cloth extra. 6_s._ With Frontispiece by F. Walker, A.R.A.

“If humour, sweetness, and pathos, and a story told with
simplicity and vigour, ought to insure success, ‘A Daughter of
Heth’ is of the kind to deserve it.”—_Saturday Review._

“The special genius of the book is the conception of such a
character as Coquette’s.”—_Spectator._

“An inviting title, agreeable writing, humour, sweetness and a
fresh natural style are combined.”—_Pall Mall Gazette._

“The ‘Daughter of Heth’ is a novel of real power and
promise.”—_Standard._

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=—— Harz Mountains: a Tour in the Toy Country.= With numerous
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” ” ” 6_s._
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=Butler (W. F.) The Great Lone Land=; an Account of the Red River
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reading.”—_Pall Mall Gazette._

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=California.= _See_ =Nordhoff=.

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=Changed Cross (The)= and other Religious Poems. 2_s._ 6_d._

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Bloomfield’s Farmer’s Boy.
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Gray’s Elegy in a Churchyard.
Keat’s Eve of St. Agnes.
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Rogers’ Pleasures of Memory.
Shakespeare’s Songs and Sonnets.
Tennyson’s May Queen.
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=Clara Vaughan.= _See_ =Blackmore=.

=Coffin (G. C.) Our New Way Round the World.= 8vo. 12_s._

=Commons Preservation= (Prize Essays on), written in competition
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=Compton Friars=, by the Author of Mary Powell. Cr. 8vo. cloth.
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=Courtship and a Campaign=; a Story of the Milanese Volunteers of
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A Capital Book for a School Prize for Children from Seven
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=—— Little Sunshine’s Holiday= (forming Vol. 1. of the John
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=—— John Halifax Series.= _See_ =Girls’ Books=.

=—— Poems.= Crown, cloth, 5_s._

=—— (Georgiana M.) The Cousin from India=, forming Vol 9. of John
Halifax Series. Small post 8vo. 4_s._

=—— Without Kith or Kin.= 3 vols. crown 8vo., 31_s._ 6_d._

=—— Hero Trevelyan.= 2 Vols. Post 8vo. 21_s._

=Craik’s American Millwright and Miller.= With numerous
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=Cruise of “The Rosario.”= _See_ =Markham (A. H.)=.

=Cummins (Maria S.) Haunted Hearts= (Low’s Copyright Series). 16mo.
boards. 1_s._ 6_d._; cloth, 2_s._

=Curtis’s History of the Constitution of the United States.= 2
vols. 8vo. 24_s._

=Dalton (J. C.) A Treatise on Physiology and Hygiene for Schools,
Families, and Colleges=, with numerous Illustrations. 7_s._ 6_d._

=Dana (R. H.) Two Years before the Mast and Twenty-four years
After.= New Edition, with Notes and Revisions. 12mo. 6_s._

=Dana (Jas. D.) Corals and Coral Islands.= Numerous Illustrations,
charts, &c. Royal 8vo. cloth extra. 21_s._

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1872.

“That his work is likely to be more popular than most accounts
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doubt whatever.”—_Saturday Review._

=Darley (Felix O. C.) Sketches Abroad with Pen and Pencil=, with 84
Illustrations on Wood. Small 4to. 7_s._ 6_d._

=Daughter (A) of Heth=, by WM. BLACK. Eleventh and Cheaper edition.
1 vol. crown 8vo. 6_s._

=Davies (Wm.) The Pilgrimage of the Tiber=, from its Mouth to its
Source; with some account of its Tributaries. 8vo., with many
very fine Woodcuts and a Map, cloth extra. 18_s._

“Et terram Hesperiam venies, ubi Lydius arva
Inter opima virûm leni fluit agmine Tibris.”
VIRGIL, Æn. II., 781.

=Devonshire Hamlets=; Hamlet 1603, Hamlet 1604. 1 Vol. 8vo. 7_s._
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=De Witt (Madame Guizot). An Only Sister.= Vol. V. of the “John
Halifax” Series of Girls’ Books. With Six Illustrations. Small
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=Dhow-Chasing.= _See_ =Sulivan=.

=Draper (John W.) Human Physiology.= Illustrated with more than 300
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=Dream Book (The)= with 12 Drawings in facsimile by E. V. B. Med.
410. 1_l._ 11_s._ 6_d._

=Duer’s Marine Insurance.= 2 vols. 3_l._ 3_s._

=Duplais and McKennie, Treatise on the Manufacture and Distillation
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=Duplessis (G.) Wonders of Engraving.= With numerous Illustrations
and Photographs. 8vo. 12_s._ 6_d._

=Dussauce (Professor H.) A New and Complete Treatise on the Art of
Tanning.= Royal 8vo. 2_l._ 2_s._

=—— General Treatise on the Manufacture of Vinegar.= 8vo. 1_l._
1_s._

=English Catalogue of Books (The)= Published during 1863 to 1871
inclusive, comprising also the Important American Publications.

This Volume, occupying over 450 Pages, shows the Titles of
32,000 New Books and New Editions issued during Nine Years, with
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∵ The previous Volume, 1835 to 1862, of which a very few remain
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=—— Writers=, Chapters for Self-improvement in English
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=Erckmann-Chatrian, Forest House and Catherine’s Lovers.= Crown
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=—— The Brothers Rantzau=: A Story of the Vosges. 2 vols. crown
8vo. cloth. 21_s._

=Faith Gartney’s Girlhood=, by the Author of “The Gayworthys.”
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=Favourite English Poems.= New and Extended Edition, with 300
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=Favell (The) Children.= Three Little Portraits. Crown 12mo. Four
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“A very useful and clever story.”—_John Bull._

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=Fields (J. T.) Yesterdays with Authors.= Crown 8vo. 10_s._ 6_d._

=Fleming’s (Sandford) Expedition.= _See_ =Ocean to Ocean=.

=Flammarion (C.) The Atmosphere.= Translated from the French
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=Franc (Maude Jeane) Emily’s Choice=, an Australian Tale. 1 vol.
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=—— Marian, or the Light of Some One’s Home.= Fcp. 3rd Edition,
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=—— Silken Cords and Iron Fetters.= 5_s._

=—— Vermont Vale.= Small post 4to., with Frontispiece. 5_s._

=—— Minnie’s Mission.= Small post 8vo., with Frontispiece. 4_s._

=Frey (H.) The Microscope and Microscopical Technology.= 8vo.
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=Friswell (J. H.)= _See_ =Gentle Life Series=.

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=Gayworthys (The)=, a Story of New England Life. Small post 8vo.
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=Gems of Dutch Art.= Twelve Photographs from finest Engravings in
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=The Gentle Life.= Essays in aid of the Formation of Character of
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“His notion of a gentleman is of the noblest and truest order. A
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II.

=About in the World.= Essays by the Author of “The Gentle Life.”

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III.

=Like unto Christ.= A New Translation of the “De Imitatione
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“Evinces independent scholarship, and a profound feeling for the
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“Could not be presented in a more exquisite form, for a more
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=Familiar Words.= An Index Verborum, or Quotation Handbook.
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“The most extensive dictionary of quotation we have met
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=Essays by Montaigne.= Edited, Compared, Revised, and Annotated by
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Edition.

“We should be glad if any words of ours could help to bespeak
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VI.

=The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia.= Written by Sir PHILIP
SIDNEY. Edited, with Notes, by the Author of “The Gentle Life.”
Dedicated, by permission, to the Earl of Derby. 7_s._ 6_d._

“All the best things in the Arcadia are retained intact in Mr.
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VII.

=The Gentle Life.= Second Series. Third Edition.

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VIII.

=Varia: Readings from Rare Books.= Reprinted, by permission, from
the _Saturday Review_, _Spectator_, &c.

“The books discussed in this volume are no less valuable than
they are rare, and the compiler is entitled to the gratitude of
the public for having rendered their treasures available to the
general reader.”—_Observer._

IX.

=The Silent Hour: Essays, Original and Selected.= By the Author of
“The Gentle Life.” Second Edition.

“All who possess the ‘Gentle Life’ should own this
volume.”—_Standard._

=Essays on English writers=, for the Self-improvement of Students
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glorious English literature. To all (both men and women) who
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XI.

=Other People’s Windows.= By J. HAIN FRISWELL. Second Edition.

“The chapters are so lively in themselves, so mingled with
shrewd views of human nature, so full of illustrative anecdotes,
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XII.

=A Man’s Thoughts.= By J. HAIN FRISWELL.

=German Primer=; being an Introduction to First Steps in German. By
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=Getting On in the World; or, Hints on Success in Life.= By WILLIAM
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=—— Family Prayers.= 12mo. 1_s._ 6_d._

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=Goethe’s Faust.= With Illustrations by Konewka. Small 4to. Price
10_s._ 6_d._

=Gouffé: The Royal Cookery Book.= By JULES GOUFFÉ, Chef-de-Cuisine
of the Paris Jockey Club; translated and adapted for English use
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=——= Domestic Edition, half-bound. 10_s._ 6_d._

“By far the ablest and most complete work on cookery that has
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=Girls’ Books.= A Series written, edited, or translated by the
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=1. Little Sunshine’s Holiday.=
=2. The Cousin from India.=
=3. Twenty Years Ago.=
=4. Is it True.=
=5. An Only Sister.= By Madame GUIZOT DE WITT.

=Gough (J. B.) The Autobiography and Reminiscences of John B.
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in the arts. The composition, which possesses remarkable colouring
properties, is soluble in cold water; but, by a peculiar arrangement
in the interior, the water dissolving the product can only become,
as it were, saturated with it, but without diluting the material or
converting it into pulp or syrup.

The material acting like a soluble salt, the solution having attained
a certain degree of density, it remains stable, without precipitate,
and the liquid, always limpid, constitutes an Ink of a doubly superior
character, rivalling in all respects the best modern Inks.

MESSRS. SAMPSON LOW & CO. _and_ MESSRS. HACHETTE &
CO. _are the Proprietors and Patentees_.

CHISWICK PRESS:—PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS,
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.

Transcriber’s Note:

This book was written in a period when many words had not become
standardized in their spelling. Words may have multiple spelling
variations or inconsistent hyphenation in the text. These have been
left unchanged unless indicated below. Obsolete and alternative
spellings were left unchanged. Misspelled words were not corrected.

Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like
this_. Those in bold are surrounded by equal signs, =like this=.
Footnotes were renumbered sequentially and were moved to the end of
the chapter. Obvious printing errors, such as backwards, upside down,
reversed, or partially printed letters and punctuation, were corrected.
Final stops missing at the end of sentences and abbreviations were
added. Extra spaces between letters were removed. Duplicate sidenotes
were removed.

The following items were changed:

Odd-numbered page headers were converted to sidenotes.

Printer’s notes were removed from captions identifying the facing page
number of full-page illustrations.

The Genealogical Table of the Reigning Niam-niam Princes was
reformatted as a descendant list to fit narrow screens.

In Footnote [65], “after” changed to “before”, … a few days before …

*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "The heart of Africa, Vol. II (of 2)" ***

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