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Title: Expedition to discover the sources of the White Nile, in the years 1840, 1841, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Author: Werne, Ferdinand
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Expedition to discover the sources of the White Nile, in the years 1840, 1841, Vol. 2 (of 2)" ***
[Illustration: _For Werne’s Expedition to the Source of the White Nile._
Hillmandel & Walton Lithographers.
Richard Bentley New Burlington Street, 1849.]
EXPEDITION
TO DISCOVER THE SOURCES OF
THE WHITE NILE,
IN THE YEARS
1840, 1841.
BY FERDINAND WERNE.
From the German,
BY CHARLES WILLIAM O’REILLY.
* * * * *
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.
* * * * *
1849.
CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
SLEEPING TOKULS OR BARNS. — CRUELTY AND LICENTIOUSNESS OF THE
TURKS. — ARNAUD AND SELIM CAPITAN’S FEAR OF THE NATIVES. —
NEGROES SHOT BY THE TURKS. — CONDUCT OF THE NATIVES. — RED MEN.
— ARNAUD’S MADNESS. — FEAR OF THE NEGROES AT FIRE-ARMS. — VISIT
OF A CHIEF AND HIS SON. — TOBACCO AND SHEEP. — MOUNT KORÈK. —
NATION OF BARI. — VISIT OF THE BROTHER AND SON-IN-LAW OF THE
KING. — CHAIN OF MOUNTAINS. 1
CHAPTER II.
RECEPTION OF ENVOYS FROM KING LÀKONO. — DESCRIPTION OF THEM.
— RELIGION OF THE BARIS: THEIR ARMS AND ORNAMENTS. — PANIC
CREATED AMONG THE NATIVES AT THE EXPLOSION OF CANNON. — LIVELY
SCENE ON SHORE. — COLOURED WOMEN. — ARRIVAL OF KING LÀKONO AND
SUITE. — HIS INTERVIEW WITH THE COMMANDERS: HIS DRESS. — THE
NATIONAL MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS OF BARI. — PRESENTS TO KING
LÀKONO, AND HIS DEPARTURE. 26
CHAPTER III.
MIMOSAS AND TAMARIND-TREES. — DIFFERENT SPECIES. — DURRA AND
CREEPING BEANS. — RELIGION OF THE ETHIOPIANS. — SECOND VISIT
OF LÀKONO. — THE CROWN-PRINCE TSHOBÈ. — PARTICULARS OF THE
COUNTRIES OF BARI AND BERRI. — DESCRIPTION OF LÀKONO’S
FAVOURITE SULTANA. — MOUNTAINS IN THE VICINITY OF BARI: THEIR
FORM AND DISTANCE. — ISLAND OF TSHÀNKER. — REMARKS ON LÀKONO’S
LEGISLATION AND CONDUCT. — THE NJAM-NJAM, OR CANNIBALS. —
CUSTOMS AND ARMS OF THE NATIVES. — THE TROPICAL RAINS. 50
CHAPTER IV.
KING LÀKONO’S PRIDE. — BEER KNOWN TO THE ANCIENT EGYPTIANS. —
BAR OF ROCKS. — WAR-DANCE OF THE NATIVES. — DETERMINATION OF
THE TURKS TO RETURN, AND DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE AUTHOR. —
COMMENCEMENT OF THE RETURN VOYAGE. — REPUBLICANS IN THE KINGDOM
OF BARI. — VISIT OF THE FRENCHMEN TO MOUNT KORÈK. — REASON OF
THE AUTHOR’S AVERSION TO ARNAUD. — CONDUCT OF VAISSIÈRE, AND
SCENE IN HIS DIVAN. — CULTIVATION OF COTTON AT BARI. — APATHY
OF FEÏZULLA-CAPITAN AND THE CREW. — SUPERIORITY OF MAN TO WOMAN
IN A NATIVE STATE. — WATCH-HOUSES. 76
CHAPTER V.
RIVER BUFFALOES. — COMICAL APPEARANCE OF THE NATIVES. — WILLOWS.
— SPECIES OF STRAND-SNIPES. — MODESTY OF THE WOMEN, AND THEIR
APRONS. — THE LIÈNNS. — ORNAMENTS OF THIS TRIBE: THEIR TOKULS.
— THE SERIBA OR ENCLOSURE TO THE HUTS. — ENORMOUS ELEPHANT’S
TOOTH. — LUXURIANCE OF THE SOIL. — THE COUNTRY OF BAMBER. —
DESCRIPTION OF THE NATIVES. — MANNER OF CATCHING ELEPHANTS. —
ROYAL CRANES. — SPLENDID BARTER. — TRIBE OF THE BUKOS. —
STOICISM OF AN OLD NATIVE. — SLAVES. — HIPPOPOTAMI AND
CROCODILES. — THE TSHIÈRRS. — THE ELLIÀBS AND BÒHRS. —
DESCRIPTION OF THE FORMER TRIBE: THEIR WAR-DANCE. 102
CHAPTER VI.
EXAMINATION OF AN ARM OF THE NILE. — FORESTS ON THE BANKS. —
PRICE OFFERED IN ENGLAND FOR A LIVE HIPPOPOTAMUS. — THESE
ANIMALS RARELY MET WITH IN EGYPT. — THE LIÈNNS. — ROPES MADE
FROM THE LEAVES OF THE DOME-PALM. — UÈKA. — CHARACTER AND
DESCRIPTION OF THE LIÈNNS. — THE EMEDDI-TREE. — DÖBKER-TREE.
— COTTON-TREES. — THE TSHIÈRRS. — TRIBES OF THE BODSHOS AND
KARBORAHS. — LABYRINTHS OF THE WHITE STREAM. — BARTER WITH THE
KARBORÀHS: THEIR DRESS, ARMS, ORNAMENTS, ETC. — MOUNT NERKANJIN.
— ISLAND OF TUI. — THE KOKIS. — CONTEST WITH HIPPOPOTAMI. —
CROCODILES’ EGGS. — HOSTILITY OF THE TSHIÈRRS TO THE ELLIÀBS.
— EBONY CLUBS. — THE BÒHRS: THEIR SONGS, ORNAMENTS, ETC. —
ANT-HILLS. — “IRG-EL-MOJE” OR WATER-ROOT, A SPECIES OF
VEGETABLE. — VETCHES. — THE ANDURÀB OR ENDERÀB-TREE. — THE
DAKUIN-TREE. — A SOLDIER STABBED BY A NATIVE. — ANTIQUITY
OF DUNG-FIRES. 133
CHAPTER VII.
THE BÒHR “JOI”: HIS TREATMENT ON BOARD THE VESSEL: HIS ESCAPE.
— WOMEN’S VILLAGE. — FELT CAPS. — SONGS OF THE BÒHRS. — TUBERS
SIMILAR TO POTATOES. — THE BUNDURIÀLS. — THE TUTUIS AND KÈKS.
— AN ELEPHANT ATTACKED AND KILLED. — TASTE OF THE FLESH OF THIS
ANIMAL. — CHEATING OF THE NATIVES IN BARTER. — WINTER TOKULS OR
WOMEN’S HUTS. — MANNER OF MAKING A BURMA OR COOKING-VESSEL. —
“BAUDA” AGAIN. — FEÏZULLA-CAPITAN’S INDUSTRY IN SEWING. — THE
KÈKS LIVE BY FISHING. — DESCRIPTION OF THE WOMEN. — SERIOUS
ACCIDENT TO THE VESSEL. — OSTRICHES AND APES. — FOGS ON THE
WHITE STREAM. — WATCH-TOWERS. — SALE SHOOTS A GIGANTIC CRANE:
IS PUNISHED. — THE NUÈHRS. 169
CHAPTER VIII.
NUÈHRS. — ORNAMENTS. — MANNERS OF THE WOMEN. — THE MEN. —
CURIOUS CUSTOM OF DRESSING THE HAIR, AND STAINING THEMSELVES.
— VISIT OF A CHIEF. — SPEARS USED INSTEAD OF KNIVES. —
SINGULAR WAY OF MAKING ATONEMENT, ETC. — WE HEAR ACCOUNTS OF
OUR BLACK DESERTERS. — BOWS AND QUIVERS SIMILAR TO THOSE
REPRESENTED IN THE HIEROGLYPHICS. — THE TURKS INDULGENT IN ONE
RESPECT. — MOUNT TICKEM OR MORRE. — TRACES OF ANIMAL-WORSHIP
AMONG THE NUÈHRS. — ARNAUD’S CIRCUMNAVIGATION OF A LAKE (AND
GASCONADES). — ADVICE TO FUTURE TRAVELLERS ON THE WHITE NILE.
— SWALLOWS. — MEANS OF DEFENCE AGAINST GNATS DISCOVERED. — THE
SHILLUKS AGAIN. — QUESTION OF THE CONTINUAL ALTERATIONS IN THE
APPEARANCE OF THE NILE. — GUINEA-FOWLS. — GIRAFFES. — BLACK
WASPS. — TURTLE-DOVES. — OUR AUTHOR CAUGHT IN A THORN-BUSH. —
FABLED LUXURIANCE OF THE PLANTS IN THE TROPICAL REGIONS. — VIEW
FROM A HILL. — MANNER OF CATCHING FISH AMONG THE NATIVES. — THE
SOBÀT RIVER. — THE INUNDATIONS OF THE NILE CONSIDERED. 203
CHAPTER IX.
ROYAL CRANES. — SCRUPLES OF FEÏZULLA-CAPITAN. — COMPOSITION OF
THE SHORES. — DESCRIPTION OF THE DHELLÈB-PALM AND ITS FRUIT. —
FORM OF EGYPTIAN PILLARS DERIVED FROM THIS TREE. — DIFFERENCE
BETWEEN EGYPTIAN AND GREEK ARCHITECTURE. — DESCRIPTION OF THE
SUNT-TREE. — DEATH OF AN ARABIAN SOLDIER. — VISIT OF A MEK OR
CHIEF. — DANGEROUS RENCONTRE WITH A LION ON SHORE. — PURSUIT OF
THIS BEAST BY THE AUTHOR AND SULIMAN KASHEF WITH HIS MEN. — FEAR
OF THE NATIVES AT THE TURKS. — PLUNDER OF THEIR TOKULS BY THE
CREW. — BREAD-CORN OF THE DINKAS. — ANTELOPE HUNT. — DIFFERENT
SPECIES OF THESE ANIMALS. — IMMENSE HERDS ON THE BANKS OF THE
WHITE NILE. — LIONS AGAIN. — BAD CONDITION OF THE VESSELS. 237
CHAPTER X.
VARIOUS SPECIES OF GRASSES. — FORMATION OF THE SHORES. —
WATER-FOWLS. — AN ANTELOPE OF THE TETE SPECIES, NOW AT BERLIN.
— STRATA OF THE SHORE. — THE SOBÀT RIVER: THE MAIN ROAD FOR THE
NATIVES FROM THE HIGHLANDS TO THE PLAINS. — OBSERVATIONS ON THE
COURSE OF THE NILE AND SOBÀT. — A THOUSAND ANTELOPES SEEN MOVING
TOGETHER! — WILD BUFFALOES, LIONS, AND HYÆNAS. — AFRICA, THE
CRADLE OF THE NEGRO RACE. — THE SHUDDER-EL-FAS: DESCRIPTION OF
THIS SHRUB. — ARNAUD’S CHARLATANRY. — OUR AUTHOR FEARED BY THE
FRENCHMEN. — ARNAUD AND SABATIER’S JOURNALS: THE MARVELLOUS
STORIES OF THE FORMER. — THIBAUT’S JEALOUSY. — VISIT OF A SHIEKH
OF THE SHILLUKS. — FEAR OF THE TURKS AT THESE PEOPLE. — SULIMAN
KASHEF PURSUED BY A LION. 257
CHAPTER XI.
THE SHILLUKS, A VITIATED PEOPLE. — CAUSE OF THE VIOLENT RAINS
IN INNER AFRICA. — REFUSAL OF THE SULTAN OF THE SHILLUKS TO
VISIT THE VESSELS. — DESCRIPTION OF A SPECIES OF GRASS. —
BARTER WITH THE SHILLUKS. — CONQUEST OF THEIR COUNTRY NOT
DIFFICULT. — FORM OF THEIR BOATS. — AMBAK RAFTS. — IRON RARELY
FOUND AMONG THE EGYPTIAN ANTIQUITIES. — WORSHIP OF TREES BY THE
SHILLUKS: THEIR RELIGIOUS RITES. — STARS IN THE SOUTHERN REGIONS
OF AFRICA. — SHILLUK WOMEN: THEIR DRESS. — REFUSAL OF THE MEN TO
SELL THEIR ARMS. — THE BAGHÀRAS: THEIR DRESS, ETC. —
RE-APPEARANCE OF THE ISLAND PARKS, AND MOUNT DEFAFAÙNGH. —
ASCENT OF THIS MOUNTAIN, AND FULL DESCRIPTION OF IT. — THE
DINKAS: THEIR LOVE FOR OLD CUSTOMS. — DESERTION OF TWO DINKA
SOLDIERS, AND REFUSAL OF THEIR COUNTRYMEN TO GIVE THEM UP. —
SHEIKHS SEIZED, AND DESERTERS RECOVERED. 280
CHAPTER XII.
LANDING IN THE TERRITORY OF THE BAGHÀRAS: DESCRIPTION OF THEM:
THEIR HOSTILITY TO THE DINKAS, AND MARAUDING EXCURSIONS INTO
THE COUNTRY OF THIS TRIBE. — CURIOUS POSITION IN WHICH THE
LATTER TRIBE STAND. — MOUNT N’JEMATI: EXAMINATION OF IT. — A
SHRUB-ACACIA. — APPEARANCE OF ELEPHANTS AND LIONS. — GEOLOGICAL
DESCRIPTION OF THE MOUNTAINS. — MONKEYS APPEAR AGAIN. — MOHAMMED
ALI UNDER THE FORM OF AN HIPPOPOTAMUS. — ISLAND OF ABU. — THE
HASSARIES. — A HIPPOPOTAMUS KILLED BY SULIMAN KASHEF. — SHORES
OF THE NILE COMPARED TO THOSE OF THE MISSISSIPPI. — EL AES. —
THE KABBABISH ARABS. — HEDJASI. — THE MOUNTAIN GROUP OF ARASKOLL.
— CONDUCT OF SULIMAN KASHEF TO A SHIEKH AND ARABS. — BEST WAY TO
TREAT THE TURKS. — THE DOWNS: THEIR NATURE. — INTELLIGENCE OF
THE DEATH OF SOLIMAN EFFENDI AND VAISSIÈRE. — APPROACH TO
KHARTÙM. — ARRIVAL, AND MEETING OF OUR AUTHOR WITH HIS BROTHER.
— CONCLUSION. 309
EXPEDITION
TO DISCOVER THE SOURCES
OF THE
WHITE NILE.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
SLEEPING TOKULS OR BARNS. — CRUELTY AND LICENTIOUSNESS OF THE
TURKS. — ARNAUD AND SELIM CAPITAN’S FEAR OF THE NATIVES. —
NEGROES SHOT BY THE TURKS. — CONDUCT OF THE NATIVES. — RED
MEN. — ARNAUD’S MADNESS. — FEAR OF THE NEGROES AT FIRE-ARMS. —
VISIT OF A CHIEF AND HIS SON. — TOBACCO AND SHEEP. — MOUNT
KOREK. — NATION OF BARI. — VISIT OF THE BROTHER AND SON-IN-LAW
OF THE KING. — CHAIN OF MOUNTAINS.
20th January.—The vessels were towed further to the southward
by the Libàhn, whilst the commanders, and we Franks with them,
walked on the magnificent shore. The wind, with which, however, we
had previously sailed, although not quicker than the pace we walked
at on shore, freshened at ten o’clock, and we repaired again
on board the vessels. I had made a real forced march, and was at
last compelled to be carried, owing to increasing weakness. Little
villages and isolated tokuls stood in the beautiful woody country,
which is interspersed with solitary light spaces or corn-fields,
where, however, the short fine grass was withered. These tokuls are
elevated above the ground on stakes, and serve to protect the fruits,
or as sleeping-places for security against noxious animals or the
temporary damp of the soil. The natives dance, sing, and jump, slide
on their knees, sell or exchange their god (glass beads—Arabic,
sug-sug), amongst one another, and squat, but not by sitting
upright in the Turkish manner, and smoke their pipes. These pipes
have prettily-worked black clay bowls, with a tube of reeds, and a
long iron mouthpiece: even the tongs, to apply the charcoal to light
them, are not wanting. They are cheated in the most shameful manner
by the Turco-Arabian people; robbed of their weapons, and plundered
right and left. What am I to do? I am ill, and have lost my voice;
yet I try to prevent these outrages as far as I am able.
The so-called elephant-tree prevails here exclusively; and one of the
chief amusements this morning was to shoot down its fruit, in which
exploit Suliman Kashef distinguished himself as the best shot. The
shady trees, the prospect on the river, enlivened by the glittering
sails, the blue chain of mountains—it was a sight that did me
good, and refreshed my inmost soul. But all this was again clouded by
Turks. Is there another word for Turks? No: Turks,—_basta!_ A negro,
who came from the other side to swim over to us, got into the track
of the sailing vessels, and was drowned, although he might have been
easily picked up by two ships following us. The commanders had gone
on a-head, and I was behind with the Frenchmen; I was not able to
call, and therefore fired off my gun, in order, by signs, to induce
them to save him. Arnaud also, whose vessel was just bearing up,
might have easily prevented the death of the unfortunate creature
if he had given a hail to his reïs. He even blamed my impatience,
saying I was ill; and added, with the contemptuous tone, in which
the Arab pronounces his “Abit,” and the Turk his “kiàfr,”
“Why do the fellows swim about in the water?” Upon this I could
not forbear using hard words.
An Egyptian soldier, who, like some others of the libàhn, had
remained behind on shore to ransack the deserted tokuls, ran behind a
young naked girl, when I fortunately noticed the circumstance in our
walk. I hastened to Suliman Kashef, who was gallant enough to recall,
with a voice of command, the libertine from this his wicked purpose.
The Turkish character involuntarily shews itself on such occasions
as these; it goes against his grain to see an inferior enjoying any
pleasure. There was no merit, therefore, in Suliman’s conduct,
even had he warded off from us a Sicilian vespers. Thibaut had
had also a similar incident on board his vessel with the reïs,
who wanted to be too free with a young girl whom the former, during
this voyage, had purchased for a few glass beads,—I believe from
the Keks. This incident was also announced in due form by us; but
they laughed, and said, “Badèn” (afterwards), and Arnaud even
joined in this opinion.
At a quarter past ten o’clock, the north wind has completely
died away, and we tack about towards the west for a short tract,
when it becomes again so fresh, whilst the wind is S.W., that we
are able to sail slowly. To all appearance, unfortunately, our
vaunted voyage of discovery will soon have an end. Selim-Capitan is
frightened to a ludicrous degree; Arnaud cannot conceal his fear;
and Suliman Kashef, not being yet restored to health, is utterly
indifferent. I cannot refrain from considering an instant return as
a disgrace and as treachery both to the world and Mohammed Ali. On
the right an island, and the last of those two which we had on our
left still continues, and so we are somewhat free from the noise of
the people on the shore. Sale and Sate Mohammed are no longer seen
on land; they have perhaps become the victims of their passions,
although they were only to shoot for me a pair of turtle-doves.
We halt, for a time, on the left shore, where there is a large
village, partly scattered in the wood that skirts the river so
beautifully. At eleven o’clock we set out again, and our men drive
back the cattle from the island close to us, through the water to
the right shore, for their unfathomable throats appear at last to be
satiated. The clapping of hands, keeping time to the singing, above
which the “kih, kih” of the women is heard, accompanies us from
both sides. We cannot hear or see anything for the crowd and clatter,
especially myself, round whom all the beautiful world floats as in
a mist, and a jarring din sings in my ears, so that my writing,
inexorably necessary as it is, becomes exceedingly difficult. I
dared not close my eyes for fear of becoming completely confused. I
wanted to go to Selim Capitan, or rather to his interpreter, but
was not able to put the requisite questions and to note down the
answers. I continue to write mechanically, and cannot square my own
journal, when I try to revise the entries of the last few days;
for everything flickers before my eyes, and my memory is gone,
so that it all appears to me like a dream.
With a light north-east wind, which also assisted us yesterday,
we proceed S.S.W. It is noon, and we have two islands, lying close
to each other, on our left. A large island ends on our right,
and another one begins, by which the course in the middle of the
river is, in some degree, confined. Nevertheless, the river always
retains a considerable breadth, and a proper depth; and then,—will
the poltroons return? The mountain, already several times mentioned,
peeps into the window from the west; it shews itself as two mountains
lying one close to the other, the western of which rises conically,
and has an obtuse peak, and an undulating tail to the west. The latter
appears somewhat wooded, yet these masses giving light and shade may
be mostly blocks; the conically ascending mountain, on the contrary,
has a smooth surface, and may be an extinguished volcano, although
one would not expect to find such here. We now find, for the first
time, stones in the river, and they are granite and gneiss. They
are not yet rounded; the chain of mountains from whence they come
cannot, therefore, be very far distant. We proceed S.S.W. An island
terminates on the left, and another follows at the distance of some
hundred paces.
Four o’clock. S.W. An occurrence has just happened, which might be
the death of us all if anything were to be feared from the revenge of
these evidently good-natured people. We were on the right side of the
river, and went to the left, where the little sandal was towed not
far from us by the Libàhn. Natives had stationed themselves here in
large and small groups; they greeted us, held up their hands, pointed
to their necks for beads, and sang, danced, and jumped. There was no
end of laughing in our vessel; I was attentive to what was going on,
and saw that the natives had seized the rope of the sandal, and would
not let it be towed further, for they wanted beads. Probably the crew
of the sandal had taken weapons or ornaments from them, without giving
anything in return, as this frequently happened. We steered close
to the left shore to assist our men, when eight bold armed figures
advanced towards us, and gave us to understand by pantomimic signs,
that we had presented beads to their neighbours below, but would not
give them anything. They offered the rings on their arms, and their
weapons, and signified to us, as we were advancing libàhn, on account
of the faintness of the wind, that they would not allow us to tow any
further unless we gave them something. They said all this, however,
with a laughing countenance, jumped about, and laughed anew. It
was plain they were only in jest; but our bloodthirsty fellows,
seeing no danger in this small number of men, and never thinking of
the probable consequences, just like the Turks, considered this an
excellent opportunity to display their courage. They seized their
weapons. I was unwell, but yet was standing on deck, and kept order
as well as my weak voice would allow me. I went from one to the
other, and enjoined them not to fire, until arrows were first shot
at them. The black soldiers, who were mostly recruits, I admonished
especially not to be _filles de joie_ (the usual expression here
applied to those who exhibit fear in discharging their guns), but
men (rigàl, sing. ragel), to grasp the gun firmly, and to take good
aim. Our blacks are generally very much afraid of the report of guns,
and do exactly as the Greeks did at the commencement of their war for
freedom; they lay the butt-end on the thigh, and fire at random. On
the White River, also, the report of these unknown weapons was more
feared than the real danger itself. They listened to me; but then
came the vessel of Captain Mohammed Agà, a fool-hardy Arnaut, who
is always trying to distinguish himself in some way or another. He
shouted to the sandal to cut away the rope, although the men were
still on land. This was about to be done, when the tallest negro,
who had twisted the rope round a little tree, pointed his bow at the
sailor who was about to cut it through with his knife. He laughed
at the same time, and it was clear that he was not in earnest;
for he had wrestled in a friendly manner with the other sailors,
when they tried to get the rope from him, without making use of his
weapons. Yet the Arnaut commanded them to “fire,” whilst he had
already aimed at the incautious native, being the first to discharge
his piece. In a moment all three vessels fired away, as though they
were beset by the devil. I was only able to pull back a couple of
fellows whose guns had flashed in the pan. Eleven or twelve other
victims followed the first, who was knocked over by the captain’s
shot. Those who went away wounded were not counted. An old woman
was shot down by an Egyptian standing near me, and yet he boasted of
this heroic deed, as did all the others of theirs. There might have
been from twenty-five to thirty natives collected together at that
place, scarcely thirty paces from us, and the high-standing straw
might have concealed several more.
We sailed away with the wind favouring our criminal action, for
our men had again come on board before the firing commenced. The
Dahabiës sailing ahead of us must have heard our shots; they did
not however furl _one_ sail to lend us assistance, which might
have been eventually necessary. Before we caught up these vessels,
we saw a woman on the shore, looking about among the dead men,
and then afterwards running to the city at some distance from the
shore. The natives were hastening towards it, but they did not
trust themselves near us. Yet they knew not the melancholy truth
that our shots would hit at a distance; hitherto they feared only
the thunder and lightning of them, as we had seen several times. We
halted a moment; the unhappy creatures or relatives of the slain came
closer to the border of the shore, laid their hands flat together,
raised them above their head, slid upon their knees nearer to us, and
sprang again high in the air, with their compressed hands stretched
aloft, as if to invoke the pity of heaven, and to implore mercy of
us. A slim young man was so conspicuous by his passionate grief,
that it cut to my heart, and—our barbarians laughed with all
their might. This unbounded attachment to one another, and the
circumstance that that woman, in spite of the danger so close at
hand, sought for the man of her heart among those who had perished,
affected me exceedingly, because such moral intrinsic worth, flowing
from pure natural hearts, is unfortunately more acquired than innate
in civilised nations. We had only advanced a little on our way,
and above thirty unarmed natives, who must yet at all events have
been informed of the tragical incident that had just occurred, sat
down on the sand directly close to the river, without suspicion,
or designing any harm to us, as if nothing had taken place, and
really—I had enough to do to prevent their being shot at.
We reached the vessels of the commanders, and Mohammed Agà was the
first to hasten to them, in order to report the incident. But I also
drew near, and there was a kind of court martial summoned. Arnaud
did honour to the European name, and took the part of the Turks,
who looked upon the whole as a trifle. Finally, the Arnaut, who
had already confessed the fact, faced about boldly and swift as
lightning, declaring that he had never fired a shot, and that he
would bring witnesses to prove it, and—here the matter ended. Selim
Capitan thought he shewed his wish to keep up a good understanding
with the natives, by throwing into the grass on the shore some
miserable bits of glass paste, with a cup. The natives looked and
groped about, whilst we sailed to the neighbouring island. Here we
found two divisions of negroes, whose chiefs were also presented
with strings of beads. Again we threw beads among the grass, and
ordered the whole occurrence to be explained by the interpreters;
more beads, and—every one jumped forward delighted. One of these
chiefs had all his naked body streaked over with ochre: he looked
like the black huntsman of Bohemia. They are said to do this in
particular when they marry; we have seen already several such red
men; even the hair and the ivory bracelets which are thick and of a
hand’s breadth, as well as the numerous iron rings on the wrists
and ankles, are coloured red in this fashion. Rage and vexation,
together with the heat of the sun, compelled me to be carried back
quite exhausted down the shore to the vessel.
Thibaut and Sabatier disclosed to me, as usual, their vexation at
Arnaud’s assuming conduct, and how they are cut up and calumniated
in his journal, which they secretly read, without being able to call
him to account for it at the moment. So likewise I am obliged to
listen to the loud lamentations of his servant Mustaphà, a Maltese
renegade, who always ends with “Credo che sia mezzo matto quest
gran signore o baron fututto.” Although he looks very fierce,
yet he cannot renounce his nature as a tailor, and is continually
asking me whether we are in any danger and begs me, for the holy
Madonna’s sake, to take care that we return as speedily as possible,
for he would rather a thousand times live with his devil of a wife,
than venture again so far among the heathens. Arnaud is jealous
at Suliman Kashef having purchased a young girl with his beads,
and by the assistance of Duschoïl, the interpreter, prettier than
his little sailor’s trull, whom he has hung with glass beads from
head to foot. In a fit of madness he writes a long French letter to
the Kashef, summoning him to restore the girl immediately, although
we are already a long way from her people. Thibaut translates the
letter, and looks as if he had fallen from the clouds, for he is in
the very same boat with Arnaud himself, respecting the purchase of
a girl, that he is going to make a living present to his black Sara,
whom he brought back from England to Khartùm. After the letter was
read aloud, a rude burst of laughter naturally ensued, and Suliman
Kashef said when it was finished, in a pitying tone of voice, “El
shems, el shems!” (the sun, the sun.) Certainly it is not the first
time that the African sun has produced such an effect on Arnaud;
he suffers like all of us, and his arrogance and pride shake him
more violently, because they find opposition on every side.
_21st January._ I this morning felt myself uncommonly well but had
scarcely stepped out of the door to go ashore, when the stream of
light—I know not what other name to give it—rushed upon me
with such force, and penetrated, as it were, through me, that I
was scarcely able to sink back on my bed; and it is only now, when,
however, the sun is at its height, that I feel myself at all capable
of writing. We have remained since early this morning, in a southerly
direction. The sails have been twice hoisted, but on the average we
are towed by the rope. We leave an island on our right. There are
several red skins among the negroes, who are really handsome men;
the tokuls, standing singly, are large, well roofed, and, resting
upon strong stakes, open on all sides. The stakes form a peristyle,
and the inner wall is smeared inside with clay; perhaps they serve
as stables for cattle, and summer tokuls. A small gohr, or river,
in the neighbourhood of which we repose at noon, comes merrily in
from the right shore, and the stream has a noble breadth, but little
depth of water.
Two o’clock, S.W. We have a slight north wind, and an island on
our right; behind it, the forest continues on the shore. The high
mountainous district beyond it is still blue, for the day is not
clear. It appears, indeed, partly covered with wood, and to form a
chain with the other mountains. The information we possess about
this region is still very scanty, and it would be difficult to
make any thing out of the interpreters, even if my head were less
affected. Groups of a hundred and fifty to two hundred negroes are
standing together on all sides; they generally accompany us a short
way, without uniting themselves to the next swarm. This perhaps arises
more from accident than for the purpose of keeping their boundary
stations on the water, to prevent falling together by the ears,
whilst watering their herds, and on other occasions. Islands impede
our course, and the crew see, to their terror, a number of natives,
holding their weapons aloft, wade through the river from one side to
the other. We immediately take possession of a little islet in the
middle of the river, and surround it with our vessels; a regular
military position, for it is surrounded with deeper water. It is
about a hundred paces long from north to south, and from five to
six broad, and the shores fall away steeply to the river.
Feïzulla Capitan disembarks, and returns soon from Selim Capitan,
with the melancholy intelligence that there is “moje mafish,”
(no water). I was completely in despair, left the vessel, and set
off to the top of the islet, where Turks and Franks were assembled
for further consultation. The black people found on it were driven
away by us; they jumped into the water like frogs, so that we heard
a simultaneous fearful splash. They soon stood on the more shallow
ground, and shouted their huzza, “Hui, ii hui iih!” laughed and
joked, and offered their valuables, &c. We let some of the negroes
come on the islet, and gave them presents of beads. About evening
a large herd of cows appeared on the right shore; they were lean,
possibly having been long in want of fresh grass. The men, armed
with spears, bows, and arrows, drove the herds from the right to
the left shore, where we likewise remarked a herd of cattle. Our
gentlemen were horribly afraid when the people accumulated like a
black swarm of bees on all sides.
It was a lucky circumstance that a large bird of prey perched on the
mast, to take a view aloft of the flesh under him. All eyes were
directed to us and this bird, when Suliman Kashef seized his long
gun; the blacks watched us closely, jostled each other, and were on
tenter-hooks of anxiety, for they did not know what it meant. Suliman
Kashef fired; the report set them in momentary fear, and they were
about to run away, when the sight of the bird falling into the water,
noted them, as it were, to the ground. When, however, other birds
of prey flew down on the water, to see what fate had befallen their
feathered friend, the “Hui, ii hui iih,” immediately came to a
close; they ran as fast as they could, for this appeared too much for
them to stand, having seen no arrow or stone flying at the bird. This
single shot might be of importance at this moment, when the people
generally, though at a distance, might have shewn a bad feeling;
moreover the incident was of inestimable value to the expedition,
because it infused the feeling of our superiority, and even enhanced
it, in their dismayed hearts. If I had previously strained every
nerve to prevent the return already determined upon, and had got
the again-convalescent Kashef on my side, so now even the timorous
Selim Capitan was inclined to have the track more accurately examined.
_22nd January._—There was not a breath of wind, and it is still
undetermined whether we shall proceed further. I therefore proposed
to the Frenchmen, whose courage I could naturally have no doubt of,
to take out some of the freight from their vessel, which is lightly
built and convenient, and thus to press on further. They agreed to
this proposal. I described the country, and we were having breakfast
together, when intelligence was brought to us that it was decided to
go on. No sooner does Selim Capitan see the long-legged blacks going
to their cattle, swimming over to the right shore, than fear seizes
him anew; we, however, by our joint efforts, manage to remove it.
In the meanwhile, the chief of this country comes to us with his
grown-up son. A red cloth dress of honour is put on the old man;
a red chequered cotton handkerchief tied round his head; and glass
beads are hung round his neck. They also gave the son beads, and
bound a piece of calico round him like a napkin. It was plain to be
seen that they were delighted with these presents, and particularly
at the pleasure of conversing and communicating with us. The old
man’s name is _Nalewadtshòhn_, his son’s _Alumbèh_; but
their great _Mattà_ (king or lord, perhaps analogous to the title
of honour previously conferred on us, “_Màdam_,)” is called
Làkono. The latter is said to possess a beautiful red woollen dress,
of a different cut to the Abbaie, presented to Nalewadtshòhn. It must
be truly interesting to see here, all of a sudden, a negro king in an
English uniform, although it may only come from the Ethiopian sea,
or the Indian Ocean. Sultan Làkono dwells on Mount Pelenja, and
rules over a large country, called Bari, pronounced by the Turks,
however, without further ceremony, Beri. We are said to have been
within the limits of this kingdom for the last two days: those men
shot by us belonged also to Bari.
According to Nalewadtshòhn, who is in general very talkative,
and does not appear very favourably inclined towards his king,
all the mountains in the neighbourhood have abundance of iron;
and Mount Pelenja, a quantity of copper, which is here in great
estimation. Iron-ochre, which the natives here and there use to colour
themselves with, is said to be found on all sides, formed by them,
however, into balls: by this preparation, perhaps, a cleansing of
the material takes place. The high mountain-chain we had already
seen, lies to the west, at some hours’ distance, over the left
shore of the Nile. Its name is Niakanja, and the mountains before
us are called Korèk and Lubèhk, which are said to be followed by
many other higher mountains. Both the men are strikingly handsome,
although not one of the whole multitude can be called ugly. They
are tall and strongly built; have a nose, somewhat broad indeed,
but not flat; on the contrary, slightly raised, such as we see in
the heads of Rhamses; a full mouth, not at all like that of negroes,
but exactly the same as in the Egyptian statues; a broad arched
forehead, and a speaking, honest-looking eye. The latter is not,
as we have found generally in the marsh regions, entirely suffused
with blood, whereby the countenances have a dismal appearance, but
clear, full, and black, yet not dazzling. We observed that their
legs were well formed, though not muscular; their naked bodies
were adorned with the very same decorations of ivory and iron as we
had seen in the others. The name of the village on the right side
of the river is Baràko; the village lying immediately opposite,
under the trees, before which are a small island and pastures,
is called Niowàh. Alumbèh was sent as our envoy to King Làkono.
We leave our island at noon, and have a larger island on our right,
a smaller one on the left, and tow to the south, accompanied by
the negroes in the water: they even come with their long bodies to
the side of the vessel, and part with every thing they have for the
beloved sug-sug.
At Asser (three o’clock in the afternoon), S.S.W., with oars and
sails. A village, on the right side of the river, contains only
a few tokuls; but a large herd of cattle, grazing there, sets our
crew longing again. About sun-set, S. I procure a beautiful spear
for a single glass bead—silly, childish people! Immediately after
sun-set, W.S.W. On the left a small island; a gohr, or arm of a
river, appearing to form a large island, pours forth from thence,
if it be not a tributary stream. The wood before us contrasts by its
dark hue with the coloured horizon, over which, as yet, no alpine
country glows. On the right shore stand a number of armed and laughing
negroes, in picturesque positions; this has been the case the whole
time, both in the water and on land. They walk arm-in-arm, quite in
a brotherly manner, or with their arms round one another’s necks,
as the students in Germany used to do in my time. They help each
other in getting up on shore, and have frequently one foot placed
firmly against the knee, standing like cranes. They lean on their
spears, or long bows, or squat down; but I see none of them sitting
or lying on the ground, according to the lazy custom of the orientals.
The north wind is so faint that we are obliged to lend assistance
with poles; the river has more water, thank God, than we thought;
and even our reïs, whom a longing fit for his wives every now and
then seizes, believes that this water-course will hold on for some
time. We anchor in the middle of the river, and the guards are doubled
in the vessels. I am tired of this constant variety of sensations,
and yet would like to see and hear much more. My head is so heavy
and stupid, that I cannot accept Suliman Kashef’s invitation.
_23rd January._—Half-past eight o’clock. We have gone so far
in a southerly direction by the rope, and we move S. by W. and
S.W. The rapidity of the river has increased from one mile and a
half to two miles. The walk on shore has tired me more, because I
was followed by the natives, with all their effects, and retarded,
so that I was obliged to break a road through them, half by violence,
though I am still very weak in my legs. I purchased for a couple of
miserable beads a little sheep, covered partly with wool, and partly
with hair, as the sheep here generally are, and having a long mane
under the throat, and horns twisted back. Selim Capitan says that
a similar species is found in Crete.
Tobacco is called here also tabac, as mostly on the White River. The
Arabs give it the name of dogàhn; this is the small-leaved sort, with
dun-coloured flowers, which is cultivated likewise in Bellet Sudàn. I
have not seen the tobacco-plant growing wild here; therefore, I cannot
say whether the name of tobacco is indigenous here with the plant,
or has been introduced by immigrants. Nevertheless, the Arabs are not
generally smokers, and it is unlikely that tobacco was brought in by
them; and it is less probable, because, had it been so, it would have
kept the name of dogàhn. In Sennaar, however, a good but very strong
tobacco has been cultivated for ages, and was probably introduced by
the Funghs, who are likewise a well-formed negro race. Our usual title
of honour is matta, which they, however, only give to the whites. The
shores are very extensively intersected with layers of sand.
Ten o’clock. S. by E., and then S.W. Two villages on the right
shore. We sail with a slight north wind, but scarcely make one mile,
for the current is considerably against us. We meet continually with
some fire-eaters among the blacks on the shore; they are startled,
certainly, at the report, but are not particularly frightened,
especially if it be not close to their ears. We have Mount Korèk in
a south-westerly direction before us. It stands like the Niakanja,
to which we have only come within the distance of from three to
four hours, and which lies behind us, isolated from the other
mountains. The summit appears flat from where we are; it has many
indentations, and seems to rise only about six hundred feet above
its broad basis, to which the ground ascends from the river. The wind
having nearly ceased for half an hour, freshens again for three miles.
At noon. S.S.W. In a quarter of an hour, a gohr or arm of the Nile
comes from S. by E.; we make only two miles more, and the wind
deserts us again; we lie, therefore, as if stuck to the place,
after having been thrown by the current on to the island, formed
by the before-named arm on the right shore. But the wind soon
freshens again; we sail away cheerfully. The ships drive one against
the other, or upon the sand, but work themselves loose again; the
negroes come in the water; confusion here—confusion everywhere. A
herd of calves stop in the water before us; this is really tempting,
but we sail on. The log gives four miles, from which two miles must
be deducted for the rapidity of the current, though the reïs can
not understand this.
At half-past twelve o’clock, the end of the island; we sail S.S.E.,
and then S. by W. On the right shore a large durra-field, apparently
the second crop on the very same stalks. The natives there, according
to the custom of this country, have little stools to sit on, and a
small gourd drinking-cup by their side. As before, part of them are
unarmed, and have merely a long stick, with forks or horns at the
top, in their hands. The covering of the head is various. Several
have differently formed little wicker baskets on their heads, as a
protection against the sun. They wear strings of the teeth of dogs
or apes on various parts of the body, but mostly on the neck, as an
ornament or talisman. They have bracelets, the points of which being
covered with bits of fur, are curved outwards like little horns. Our
envoy Alumbèh imitated all the motions and the voice of an ox, in
order to make us understand the meaning of these bracelets. These,
as well as the forks on their houses and sticks, appear to denote in
some way a kind of symbolic veneration for the bull, whose horns I
had previously seen adorned with animals’ tails; for the bull is
bold, and the support of the family among the herds.
One o’clock. A number of negroes are squatting on the island at
the left, or rather are sitting on their stools, and wondering at us
sailing so merrily to S.S.W. I count eleven villages; but I do not
trust myself on deck, for we have 30° Reaumur. About evening the
whole scene will appear more surprising and pleasing to me; for even
my servants, looking in exultingly at the window, praise the beauty
of the country. On all sides, therefore, plenty of mountains, stones,
and rocks; the great buildings in the interior of Africa are no longer
a fable to me! If the nation of Bari has had internal strength enough
to pursue the road of cultivation for thousands of years, what has
prevented it not only from rising from its natural state, but also
from appropriating to itself the higher European cultivation? It has
a stream, navigable, and bringing fertility, full of eatable animals;
a magnificent land affording it everything: it has to sustain war
with the gigantic monsters of the land and water, and to combat with
its own kind; it possesses the best of all metals, iron, from which
it understands how to form very handsome weapons sought for far and
near; it knows how to cultivate its fields; and I saw several times
how the young tobacco plants were moistened with water, and protected
from the sun by a roof of shrubs. The men of nature it contains are
tall, and enjoying all bodily advantages; yet—it has only arrived
at this grade of cultivation. If the perfectibility of nature be so
confined, this truly susceptible people only requires an external
intellectual impetus to regenerate the mythic fame of the Ethiopians.
The hygrometer seems to have got out of order through Arnaud’s
clumsy handling, for it yesterday morning shewed 82°, notwithstanding
the air is far drier and clearer than this height of the hygrometer
would shew. Half-past ten o’clock. We are driven on the sand, and
there we stop to wait for the other vessels. Alas! the beautiful
wind! Two o’clock. We sail on southwards. On the right two
islands. Selim Capitan is said to have the Sultan’s brother
on board his vessel; we are making every exertion, therefore, to
overtake him. The commander no sooner remarks this than he halts at
the nearest island. I repaired immediately to his vessel, and found
two relations of King Làkono on board. Half-past two o’clock. We
leave the island and the previous direction of S.S.W., and approach
the right shore of the river E.S.E. On the right a gohr, or arm of
the Nile, appears to come from S.W., and indeed from Mount Korèk,
or Korèg, as the word is also pronounced.
The two distinguished guests sit upon their stools, which they
brought with them, with their own royal hands, in naked innocence,
and smoke their pipes quite delighted. An arm of the river leaves
on the left hand the main stream to the north, and may be connected
with a gohr previously seen. A village stands above the arm of the
river on the right shore of our stream, and an island is immediately
under it before the gohr itself. The name of the village is Ullibari,
and the arm Beregènn. It is said to flow down a very great distance
before it again joins the White Stream. The latter winds here to the
south; to the right we perceive a village on the left shore, called
Igàh. On the right shore we remark several villages, and those
summer huts, or rekùbas, already mentioned. All the tokuls have
higher-pointed roofs, of a tent-like form. The country generally,
in the neighbourhood of the residence of the great Negro-King,
appears very populous. The north wind is favourable. The black
princes look at the sails, and seem to understand the thing, although
the whole must appear colossal to them in comparison with their
surtuks, as we perceive from their mutually drawing each other’s
attention to them. The king’s brother, whose name is Nikelò, has
a friendly-looking countenance; and his handsome Roman-like head,
with the tolerably long curled hair, is encircled with a strip of
fur instead of the laurel. On the right he wears a yellow copper,
on the left a red copper bracelet. The latter might have been easily
taken for an alloy of gold, although the noble man did not know the
gold which was shewn him as being of higher value, but distinguished
that it was a different metal. Silver he did not know at all. These
mountains being rich in metals, must afford very interesting results
with respect to the precious metals. The other guest is called Tombé:
he is the son-in-law of the king; stronger and taller than Nikelò,
and always cheerful.
We landed soon afterwards on the right shore, as the nearest
landing-place to the capital, Belènja, on the mountain of the
same name, which was at some distance. They gave us the names of
all the mountains lying around in the horizon. The river flows here
from S.S.W., or rather the right shore has this direction. To N. by
W. Mount Nerkonji, previously mentioned as Niakanja, long seen by
us; to W. by S., Mount Konnobih; behind it, in the far distance, the
mountain-chain of Kugelù; to S.W., the rocky mountain, Korek; behind
which the before-named mountain-chain still extends, and is lost in
misty heights. These do not appear, indeed, to be of much greater
height; but on a more accurate observation, I distinguished a thin
veil, apparently sunk upon them, clearer than the western horizon, and
the blue of the mountain forms vanishing from Kugelù to the south. As
I once looked for the alpine world from Montpellier, and found it,
trusting to my good eye-sight, so now I gazed for a long time on this
region of heights; their peaks were clearly hung round with a girdle
of clouds, apparently shining with a glimmering light in opposition
to the clouds hanging before them in our neighbourhood. When I
view the long undulating chain of Kugelù, distant at all events,
taking into consideration the clear atmosphere, more than twenty hours
behind Konnobih (some twelve hours off), the highest summit of which,
west by south, without losing its horizontal ridge, disappears first
evidently in the west, and is completely veiled behind Korèk lying
nearer over south-west, I conceive that this Kugelù well deserves
the name of a chain of mountains, even if we only take the enormous
angle of the parallax at twenty hours’ distance.
These mountains lie, to all external appearance, upon the left side
of the river, and Nikelò also confirms this. On the right side of
the Nile, we see the low double rocks of Lùluli to S.S.E., and a
little further to S.E. by S., the two low mountains or hills of
Liènajihn and Konnofih lying together. To S.E. Mount Korrejih,
and then lastly to E. the mountain chain of Belenjà, rising up
in several peaks to a tolerable height, but apparently scarcely
elevated more than 1000 feet above the Nile. Far towards S., over
the Lobèk, I remarked from here several other misty mountains,
the names of which I would have willingly learned, for I feared,
and with justice, that they would be invisible in advancing nearer
under the prominences of these African Alps. The royal gentlemen,
however, with whom we stood on an old river bed of six feet high, were
restless, and in a great hurry to take home their presents of a red
coat and glass beads. The city is like all other villages, but large:
the king’s palace consists of several straw tokuls lying together,
encompassed as usual with a seriba; this also Nalewadtshòn had told
us. The Ethiopian palaces, therefore, have not much to boast of;
it is sufficient if the men in them be pleased and happy, and not
oppressed by the cares of government and want of sustenance. The
durra was also here, as I had remarked in other places, either cut
away, or cropped before it became ripe by the cattle; no matter,—it
sprouted a second time, and promised a good harvest, though only as
yet about seven feet high. I had seen it thrice as high in Taka,
without the people thinking even of cutting it down or mowing
it. Selim Capitan dares not trust the natives; we went, therefore,
ashore at the island close at hand, fixed stakes in the ground,
and tied the vessels fast to them.
CHAPTER II.
RECEPTION OF ENVOYS FROM KING LÀKONO. — DESCRIPTION OF THEM. —
RELIGION OF THE BARIS: THEIR ARMS AND ORNAMENTS. — PANIC CREATED
AMONG THE NATIVES AT THE EXPLOSION OF CANNON. — LIVELY SCENE ON
SHORE. — COLOURED WOMEN. — ARRIVAL OF KING LÀKONO AND SUITE. —
HIS INTERVIEW WITH THE COMMANDERS: HIS DRESS. — THE NATIONAL MUSICAL
INSTRUMENTS OF BARI. — PRESENTS TO KING LÀKONO AND HIS DEPARTURE.
24th January.—I repaired to Selim Capitan, to be present at the
reception of the Sultan Làkono. He had sent two other envoys to
announce to us that he would come, and we were to wait a little. One
of these ambassadors was likewise a younger brother of the king’s,
a real giant both in height and breadth, and coloured red from head
to foot; there was not even a single hair on the whole body of this
Hercules that was not red. His name is Dogalè. Nikelò, already
known to us, returned also, but entirely in his natural state,
not having even one of the strings of beads presented to him round
his neck. The other envoy, a relation of the king’s, is called
Betjà. Dogalè lolls very comfortably on the carpet extended before
the cabin, supporting his long ribs on the little stool placed under
him. Favoured by nature in every respect, he has regular features,
and a good-tempered though not intelligent countenance. All the
questions asked of these high and mighty lords were answered with
the greatest readiness. Sultan, or king, is called in their language
Matta, which means generally a lord, but there is no other _lord_
besides him. There is no one in these countries equal to their Matta
in power and strength. The word Làkono was also pronounced Làgono,
for they frequently change _k_ for _g_, as well as _p_ for _b_, _vice
versâ_, and they vary the fall of the accent, for example, Belènja
and Pelenjà. Làkono has forty wives and several children, amongst
them many grown-up sons. They shew us the number, not by stretching
out the fingers of both hands, but by holding their clenched fist
towards the questioners, in order to express by that means the number
five or ten. Each of the brothers of the king had six wives, and this
appears to be their usual appanage; for the women are purchased, and
they are probably allowed a certain number of wives, according to
their station. A private man, such as the sheikhs or chiefs of the
community, has only three; the others have only one or two wives,
exclusive of the slaves taken in war or purchased, like the male
ones, for iron weapons. The latter, I learned on my return to the
country of the Bokos, down to which place Làkono has navigated,
for the purpose of purchasing slaves, as they told us there.
We order the drum to be beat and the men to pipe; it was with
difficulty then that they could keep their seats. They do not
display any troublesome prying spirit, or impertinent curiosity;
but they see _too much_ at once, the impression assails them too
powerfully on all sides. I gaze on these people,—they are men like
ourselves, but they are more bashful than we,—not, however, by
any means approaching that timidity and helplessness which we have
perceived, for example, among the Keks. They eat dates, almonds,
and raisins, but do not snatch them hastily or greedily. They take
the tinned-copper can (Brik) filled with water from the wash-hand
basin (Tisht), and drink directly from the curved spout, after having
lifted up the cover and ascertained the contents; yet they have never
seen such fruits and such a water-vessel. I observe them in their
mutual confidential conversation, perhaps referring to us,—what
do they think of us? They are not astonished at the white faces;
perhaps they take them to be coloured, like their own bodies, for
our crew display all possible tints of flesh.
I am led to this latter supposition from a couple of women having
previously tried the skin on my face with their wet fingers, to
see if it were painted. The features and form of the head are quite
regular among these gigantic people, and are a striking contrast to
those of our black soldiers, with their more negro-like physiognomy,
although _they_ are not, on the whole, ugly. I compare the true
Caucasian races, who are present, with these men, and find that the
latter have a broader forehead. The inhabitants of the kingdom of
Bari might be designated a protoplasma of the black race; for not
only do they shoot up to a height of from six and a half to seven
Parisian feet,[1] which we have seen also in the other nations,
but their gigantic mass of limbs are in the noblest proportions. The
form of the face is oval, the forehead arched, the nose straight, or
curved, with rather wide nostrils,—the alæ, however, not projecting
disagreeably; the mouth full, like that of the ancient Egyptians; the
orifice of the ears large, and the temples a little depressed. The
last we do not find in the Baràbras, and the races akin to them in
Abyssinia. The men of Bari have, besides, well-proportioned legs,
and muscular arms. It is a pity that they also extract the four lower
incisors, for not only is the face disfigured by this custom when they
are laughing, but their pronunciation also becomes indistinct. They
differ, moreover, from the nations hitherto seen by having no holes
in their ears for ornaments; and they do _not tattoo_ themselves. Yet
I remarked some who had incisions, as imaginary ornaments, on their
shoulders: such exceptions may originate from the mothers being
of another race. I have even seen in the land of Sudàn instances
of a twofold genealogical table in the countenance, because the
father and mother were of different nations. There appears to be
no national custom with respect to wearing the hair long or short;
but generally the hair is short, and not more woolly than that of
the Baràbras and Arabs. On some there was none to be seen, and it
appears either to be removed by a knife or a cauterising process,
such as the women in the harìm use for other parts. Some wear
their hair like a cock’s comb from the forehead down to the nape
of the neck; others have scarcely the crown of the head covered:
the most, however, wear tolerably long hair, in the natural manner,
which gives a significant look to many faces. Their good-natured
countenances correspond also to their jokes among themselves, which
are, perhaps, occasionally directed against us. I have never been
able to discover in the whole journey their reverence for our race
and the god-like descent, much as this was asserted by Thibaut,
who was with the first expedition.
It does not appear,—at least, we could not make out from
them,—that they recognise one God as the essence of all that is
good and beautiful, who punishes and rewards; but neither do they
worship idols, for that, I believe, I have fully ascertained. They
treat one another with frank brotherly love, stand embracing each
other, divide the fruits given to them, assist in embarking and
disembarking from the vessels to the shore; and all this in an
affectionate manner. But yet they must have their peculiar ideas of
friends and enemies, of injuries and revenge, and be drawn to commit
acts, which we can scarcely imagine, when we see such an apparently
harmless people of nature.
Skill in arms, which is generally not to be despised, is an
accomplishment most desirable of all to a man living in a state
of nature. The first things he seeks are weapons against the wild
beasts; the fist, therefore, which Nature has given for seizing and
striking, is used for this purpose. The first weapon is the club:
even the poorest person here carries this instrument of defence. Then
man learns to know the different arms of animals,—the eye, tooth,
and the horn; therefore, we see here some of the clubs pointed at one
end, in order to cut into the enemy’s ribs in case of necessity,
directly the blow from it is parried by the shield or casque. The
stone, used by monkeys, and especially by the large cynocephali,
for defence, as I was convinced, perforce, in the country of the
Troglodytes, among the rocks of Kàffela el Lus, and which the modern
Greeks are especially expert in throwing, does not appear to be used
here as an instrument of warfare. _Iron_ spears and darts did not
come till later, although they may have had them long previously of
wood, such as we see even now. The most useful working implements,
the knife, hatchet, &c., are next introduced; and from these also
other weapons originate; the spear, not being fixed firmly on the
shaft, became used as a two-edged knife, and the battle-axe might
have followed the hatchet.
To speak of religious principles among these people would be out
of place. Family love, the mutual living together, and the same
customs and habits may form the basis of their moral principles,
and be the _first_ axiom of _mutual forbearance_. The first external
sight which might produce, if not astonishment, at least a feeling
of attachment and love, even to veneration, must be what makes
a deep impression on the soul: for example, the sun and moon; or
what gives sustenance, as the corn, for instance; or protection and
comfort, as the shady tree, &c. The moon is, probably, in higher
esteem here than the burning sun, although the latter was certainly
very agreeable to the natives when they collected themselves before
daybreak on the shore, and stood each by his little fire, kindled
on account of the cold, and fed by the reed-stalks growing between
their extended legs. I could not ascertain that there was such a
veneration for these two heavenly bodies, nevertheless I believe
as much from their expressions and narrations. Although these were
only repeated to us in a fragmentary manner, and their explanation
assisted by gestures, yet they shew that valour, like the _virtus_
of the Romans, is the essence of all virtues, to which all others,
springing from their pure uncorrupted nature, are subordinate.
The man wears the skin of the wild beasts he has slain, not as a
covering, but as an ornament and triumphant spoil. If it were not
so hot here, he would, like the ancient Germans, wear their scalp
on his head as a war-cap. He carries the daring weapon of the wild
boar killed by him—the tusk—upon a bracelet or frontlet. I saw
also some wearing on the arm, as an ornament, an imitation of a
boar’s tusk, made of ivory; and, as already mentioned, they have
iron bulls’ horns on their bracelets. As the heads of these two
animals so often appear as emblems in German escutcheons, so here
also they are less considered as the memorials of dangers overcome
than as signs of reverence or esteem of this _valiant_ beast. If the
rings with horns were more general, I should believe that, as the men
on the White Stream display an uncommon love and affection for their
cattle, they carried these horns, like the ancients did the phallus,
as the attribute of fertility, unless the custom here had not the
narrower signification of an Ethiopian Apis, or Father of Cattle.
In the meanwhile about fifteen hundred negroes may have been collected
on the shore, not including those scattered on every side. They are
armed without exception, and indeed with all their weapons,—a sight
sending a thrill of horror through the veins of the Frenchmen and
Turks, which is shewn plainly enough in various ways. They have only
the consolation, and this ought to have prevented them before from
feeling any fear at a danger not really existing—that we have, in
truth, the grandees of the kingdom on board our vessels, and that they
continue to be in the best humour, and certainly have no evil design,
for Nature’s stamp imprinted on the human countenance cannot be
deceptive here. Even Suliman Kashef has become quiet, and is perhaps
turning over in his mind how he shall act in case of a sudden attack.
All the natives have set up their “hui ih!” several times, and at
every time we stretch out our necks towards the neighbouring shore to
see what is going on. This “hui ih” always resounds _à tempo_,
as if at word of command; there must be therefore an analogous signal,
though our ears cannot distinguish it over the water. It is a cry of
joy intended for their Matta. We are still waiting for him, but in
vain; and in the meantime we din the ears of our guests with drumming
and fifing. They are also plied continually with sweets. Again and
again they enjoy them, and do not prefer the sugar to the fruit, but
eat slowly one after the other, as if they had been accustomed to them
from youth upwards, and laugh and jest with us. We hear from them that
the kingdom of Bari extends for four days’ journey down the river;
that the latter is called, in their language, Tubirih, and has its
origin at a long distance off, but they know not whether from the
mountains or the valley. There are said to be several other nations
on its shores,—a sign, perhaps, of the considerable distance of its
sources. These tribes have also a different language, but _there is
no matta so powerful as Làkono_; which saying, since we have been
in the kingdom of Bari, they are never tired of repeating. The red
Goliath lolls and stretches himself in the most comfortable manner,
and the others also change their position from time to time, and do
not remain, like pagodas or the Egyptian statues of kings, in the
lazy repose called by the Turks _kew_. Dogalè is pleased at being
measured; he is six feet six inches, Parisian measure, in height,
with an unusual development in breadth, powerful shoulders, and a
chest that might be used as an anvil. The two others, however, are
not so large, although far overtopping us. The large brass bells,
brought by us as presents for the cattle, pleased them very much,
and they give us plainly to understand that they can hear the sound
of such a bell at a distance.
We tell them that we want wood for our vessels; they shout to the
people, but the latter appear to pay very little attention, or do not
like to go away from our vessels, keeping a sharp look out on them,
either from the interest of novelty, or in case of any future danger
to their men; and perhaps, in this respect, they are not armed in
vain. When our guests were repeatedly requested to procure wood,
they tell us to fire among the people, even if we should kill a
couple of men. They laugh whilst saying this, and it really appears
that they do not believe in the possibility of shooting a man dead,
and only wish to frighten their people by the report. They would
have us, however, fire; and Selim Capitan therefore ordered his long
gun to be handed him, and fired in the air close to them; they were
dreadfully startled by the report, but immediately afterwards laughed,
and wanted us to repeat it. This was done. I should have liked to
have made a rough sketch of the group, but I was far too unwell,
and very thankful even that I was able to sit, and write down on the
spot what I heard and saw. A fine field was open here for a painter
or sculptor; these colossal well-proportioned figures—no fat,
all muscle—so that it was delightful to look at them, with the
exception of the calves of their legs, which were formed like lumps
of flesh. No beard is developed either in young or old, and yet it
does not appear that they use a cosmetic to extirpate it. If Selim
Capitan pleased them better with his smooth shaven chin, than the
long-bearded Suliman Kashef, yet they exhibited a kind of horror when
he shewed them his hairy breast, which perhaps appeared to them more
fit for a beast than a man.
Therefore the supposition that they extract the four lower incisors
not to be similar to beasts, has at least some apparent foundation,
although the under jaw does not project, and, consequently, the
lips are not made smaller by this extraction. Man here is always
indeed elevated far above the beast, and needs, therefore, no such
mutilation of the teeth. Our Dinkas, who themselves want the four
lower incisors, have no other reason to allege for it, than that
they do it to avoid the similarity to a beast, especially to the ass
(Homàr), as is the general answer in Sennaar, to questions on this
subject. The Turks take it for a kind of circumcision, just as we
might suppose it meant a baptismal rite, being the sign of an act
of incorporation by that means in a vast Ethiopian nation, divided
now into several tribes. As this extraction of the teeth first takes
place in boyhood, it might be considered to denote the commencement
of manhood, and capability of bearing arms; but I have never heard
of the ceremonies which would necessarily, if that were the fact,
take place on the occasion. There is also another objection to this
supposition, viz.,—that a similar operation is performed on the
girls. With respect to the eyes, they are full and well formed,
like those of all the negroes of the White River, but with a dirty
yellow white, which, in the inhabitants of the marshes, is generally
suffused with blood in a shocking manner.
At last then it was determined to fire off a cannon, to see what
impression this thunder would make upon them. They sat upright upon
their stools—off went the gun, and the princes nearly kissed
the planks on the opposite side, as if they had been felled by a
blow. They sat up, however, immediately again, laughing loudly all
the time, and wanted us to fire again: their request was complied
with, but they crouched down low again to the side, were uncommonly
pleased, and requested one more repetition of this report. Not a
negro, however, was to be seen on all the shore; and it was feared,
with justice, that the Sultan, who could not be far off, might be
struck by a panic and return: the firing was therefore discontinued.
Intelligence arrives that King Làkono will be with us about three
o’clock in the afternoon; whereupon the blacks, being suitably
clothed by us, and hung round with strings of beads, took their
leave with the red Dogalè, all except Lombè, who is one of the
king’s subjects, and a sheikh in a neighbouring district down
the river. The latter is a very sensible, quiet man, with a more
intellectual physiognomy than the others; the Turks give themselves
all possible trouble to obtain information from him about the
gold. He says that Mount Pelenja itself does not contain copper;
that Làkono, however, has a good deal of copper in his house,
brought from other mountains at a distance; that Làkono’s dress
also came from this country, which is called Berri. Moreover, he
took the gold bar shewn to him for a different species of copper;
and, as he does not know how to distinguish gold, the latter may be
found blended with copper in the royal treasury, and the mountains
of Berri may be auriferous. The population is clearly very large,
but he could not give us the number. He named several districts,
part of which bore the names of the neighbouring mountains; and it
almost seems to me as if there had been earlier independent tribes,
who were first subdued by the great Làkono. He does not appear either
to be a good royalist, and was evidently glad when the king’s
sons had withdrawn; he then put on a familiar look, which their
presence had hindered him from doing previously. There seems to be
no doubt that this country is a central point of negro cultivation,
although Berri and other succeeding countries, may be superior to
the kingdom of Bari. I am curious about the Sultan’s dress. As
Berri is said to lie to the east, perhaps it was not made there,
but has come, by means of barter, from India. Lombè also went away
richly decorated (for the Turks cannot contain themselves now at the
idea of gold El Dahab), in order, probably, to meet the Sultan, or,
perhaps, to get out of his sight with the treasures he had acquired.
I returned to my house, or rather my ship, to take my usual nap
at noon; but the right shore being close at hand, separated only
from our island by a narrow canal, obliges me almost immediately
to rise again. The multifarious and manifold adorned and unadorned
people afford a pleasing sight as I look at them from my windows. I
view, as if from a box at the opera, the stage of black life on the
whole length of the shore. Two women appear among the others; their
_anteriora_ and _posteriora_ covered with two semicircular leathern
aprons, tanned red, according to the usual custom here. One is
coloured red from head to foot; the other has only her still youthful
firm breasts and her head of that hue. She looks, therefore, as if
she wore a black narrow jacket under the breasts, and breeches of the
same colour under the red apron. She may have been surprised in her
toilette by the news of our arrival, and have run off to the shore
just as she was; the whole lower part of the body from the breasts
downwards was tattooed in the manner customary on the White River.
Buying and bartering are going on; cheating and robbing—the
latter, however, only on our side. My servants are on the shore,
and making gestures and signs with their fingers, to know what they
shall purchase for me of the national wares. I do not bargain in
person, for I am afraid of the sun. The people, in spite of their
good humour, are, as I have convinced myself here, surprisingly
mistrustful. Goods and the price of their purchase, are exchanging
hands simultaneously. As the people transact but little business among
themselves, it is very natural and right that they should exercise
precaution in their transactions with a foreign people like ourselves;
and it is certain that we have given the first cause for suspicion.
As I said before, the hair is generally kept short; they decorate it,
for want of something better, with a cock’s or guinea-fowl’s
feather. A more elaborate coiffure is of black ostrich-feathers,
placed together in a globular form, and the lower ends plaited, in a
little basket, the thickness of a fist. This tress-work, holding the
feathers, stands on the centre of the head, fastened by two strings
round the neck, and appears pretty generally worn. Prince Dogalè
also wore one, but of somewhat larger size. Some have their hair,
which is tolerably long, smeared so thick with ochre, that merely
little tufts are to be seen hanging about. Moreover, leather caps,
fitting exactly to the skull, were worn with long or short tassels,
hardly to be distinguished from the coloured hair. This antique kind
of covering for the head, from which the Greeks and Romans formed
their helmets, is similar, as regards form, to the modern fesi or
tarbush and takië (the cotton under-cap worn under the Turkish
knitting-worsted cap). They appear here to serve principally as
a protection against the sun. It was only with difficulty that I
could procure two different specimens, and the sellers pointed quite
dolefully to the hot sun, when they bared their shaven heads.
Leathern strings, as also strings consisting of aglets, strung in a
row, not made, as I thought at first, of conchylia, but of the shells
of ostrich-eggs, were slung round their hips. Several of the latter
strings, which are also much in request with the women in Belled
Sudàn, and require laborious work, were purchased by the crew,
and I got, also, specimens, but they were all, with one exception,
immediately purloined. To my great astonishment, I saw subsequently in
the Imperial Cabinet of Arts at Berlin, with which my Ethnographical
collection is incorporated, a string exactly similar, which Mr. Von
Olfers had brought from the Brazils. These strings wander, therefore,
from the north of Africa to the west coast of that part of the
globe, and from thence with the slaves to America, in the same way
as they come from the other side to Sennaar by means of the slaves;
or it may be, that they are made of the same size by the American
savages. If the former be the case, this single fact would shew that
there is a connection between the country of Bari and the Atlantic
Ocean. I was told that the blacks break in pieces the ostrich-eggs,
grind the fragments on a stone to a circular form of about two lines
in diameter, and then string one lamina after another on a thread,
to the length of several ells—a work which requires great patience.
Sometimes from mere stupid wantonness, shots were fired in the air
from the vessels, and the natives disappeared from the shore for
a short time, but returned directly that the report of the shots
died away. Several women now approached, part of them decked with
the before-named leathern apron, and part with a rahàt girded round
their hips, as in the land of Sudàn. The threads hanging down from
the girdle are not narrow slips of leather, such as those in Sennaar,
but twisted cotton, and only the length of a finger. These scarcely
form in front a light thread apron of a span in breadth, and leave
the hips free, on which laces with tassels and small iron chains
hang down, and a tuft falls down over the os sacrum, moving to and
fro when they walk like an animal’s tail.
Now I see that the women _wish_ to paint themselves, as I saw them
before. There are two who have coloured their nipples and navels
to the size of a dollar. The breasts are more rounded, and have not
that horizontal conical form found in the black slaves of the land
of Sudàn. I have already previously remarked that the women on the
White Stream possess modesty in the concrete sense of the word; and
though part of them are young and beautiful, but not tall, compared
with the men, yet they regard these naked and magnificent manly forms
without any immodest look; so, likewise, the men, kings of the world,
gaze tranquilly upon the women. I am fully persuaded that, where
woman bears in her mind the principle of the most necessary covering,
naked truth is exactly the thing to keep up constantly a chaste as
well as a decent relation between the sexes. Only give these women
the deceits of the dress of European ladies, and clothe the men,
and we shall see what will become of the _blameless Ethiopians!_
I am the more desirous to see continual repetitions of the sights
peculiar to the land of Bari, because, by the festive occasion of the
royal visit, these are multiplied in every form, and therefore I am
still acquiring much knowledge. The square shields, about three feet
long and two feet broad, with scallopped edges projecting into four
sharp points, appear to be little used. They are of neat’s hide,
and have a stick badly fixed in the centre to hold them by, the edge
of which is not even turned to give a firmer hold. They have blue and
red stripes crossed, each of a hand’s breadth, as their external
decoration, and these are coloured with earth, so that they are easily
obliterated. The Frenchmen made white stripes with chalk between
these colours, and thus was the tricolour found in the middle of
Africa. Whether the blue and red streaks serve as signs to distinguish
one party from the other in warfare, I know not. _Generally_ the
men here carried round, high-arched hand-shields, a foot in length,
made of very solid thick leather. These hand-shields appear now,
and perhaps exclusively, adapted for warding off a blow with the
clubs, for they would probably be of little avail as a protection
against arrows and spears to such colossal bodies, in spite of all
the dexterity of these men. Yet they gave me to understand previously,
that they warded off hostile spears by means of these shields.
The boar’s tusks on the bracelets were mostly imitations of ivory,
and therefore like the small iron bull’s horns, are perhaps symbols
of valour and the power of nature. They had, besides, all kinds of
knick-knackeries on the arm and neck, such as little tortoise-shells,
dogs’ or monkeys’ teeth, entire strings of which even they wear,
pieces of bones, &c. It struck me that little bones of this kind
are either remembrances or amulets, from the circumstance of their
always wishing to retain them when we had already purchased the
articles to which they were fastened. The iron necklaces were of
very different kinds: close to them were iron ornaments arranged
in a row, in the form of a narrow leaf, or in small open spindles,
from which little red fruits projected. I observed here also, the
wide iron rings for the neck, of the thickness of a finger, which
reach over the head, and down to the middle of the breast, and are
not only worn in Khartùm, but also in Egypt, by the daughters of the
Fellàhs. We here find an old fellow who will not sell his spear,
the shaft of which is roughly wrought from iron, and who laughs at
the sug-sug offered to him as idle toys.
I must break off for the moment from this subject, for a fresh
clamour resounds, and the cry of “Hui, ih;” therefore away I
go to Selim Capitan. We do not sit long with anxious curiosity,
and look at the vacant carpet on which the great Matta was to
recline, under the shade of the ship’s tent (Denda, perhaps
derived from the Italian _tenda_, for a war-tent is called Gemma,
and a shepherd’s-tent of straw-mats Birsh), for the sandal which had
fetched the supreme chief from the right shore, arrives. The Melek or
Sultan, as the Turks and Arabs call him, on account of his vast power,
steps on our vessel, with a retinue of followers, part of whom we
knew. The dress and coiffure distinguish his tall figure from all the
others. Notwithstanding every one removed on one side, and we form a
divàn upon cushions and chests around the carpet before the cabin,
yet he treads upon the vessel with an insecure step, for he has his
eyes directed towards us, and stumbles against the projecting foot of
the gun-carriage. He carried his throne himself,—the little wooden
stool, which we should call a foot-stool, and of which all make use;
but he bore also an awful sceptre, consisting of a club: its thick
knob was studded with large iron nails, to inspire greater respect.
At the Arabic invitation, “fadl ochaut,” accompanied by a
motion of the hand, he took his seat on the oval and somewhat
hollowed-out stool, of about one foot long, and three quarters of a
foot broad. There is something naturally dignified in his countenance
and bearing, without any assumption; he looks at the semicircle
surrounding him, so that he may not do anything derogatory to his
position as Sultan, seeking probably him who is pointed out as
the matta, or whom he takes to be our matta. He then slides along
to Selim Capitan, who might appear to him to be of that rank from
his corpulence, takes his right hand, and _sucks_ his finger-ends,
which appears to me a humiliation. The large-bearded Suliman Kashef,
vain and proud like all Circassians, wanted to have the same honour
paid to him, and held out his fist with its powerful broad knuckles;
but King Làkono was autocrat enough to conclude, from the principle
of his sovereignty, that two mattas or monarchs could not be or exist
by the side of one another. Selim Capitan, therefore, was to him the
only real and supreme head of the foreigners, and he refused this
homage in a very contemptuous manner to Suliman Kashef, who, contrary
to his usual custom, was not arrayed in all his bravery to-day. In
order not to make himself ridiculous, the latter suppressed the word
“Kiàffar,” or “Abd,” which I saw was already trembling on
his lips.
Làkono’s brother, and a couple of his suite, as also the Crown
Prince Tshobè, whom we had not seen before, clearly endeavoured,
without however throwing one glance of disapprobation at the
old man, to repair this misunderstanding, occasioned by their
peculiar etiquette, by paying all of us great lords the honour of
finger-sucking. One thing was that the fingers could not be bitten
off in this operation, owing to their lower teeth being wanting. As
a testimony of welcoming and friendship, they stroked also our
arms. They had not done this previously, perhaps because the king
had not yet assured us of his favour.
That deliberations took place among the household of the king about
the possible aim of our journey, may be presumed; both because
the Sultan not only kept away for a long time, notwithstanding his
residence was only three hours distant, but also from other indistinct
intimations, and from the very intelligible previous warning, that
we were to remain on the right shore, at the original landing-place,
because the Matta would not allow us to move any _further_. Of course
we did not take any notice of this warning, and would not understand
it. Perhaps the white faces of another world, our vessels larger than
their palaces, in which we go up the river without oars, when the wind
is favourable, and especially the thunder and explosion of our cannons
and guns, might have been the principal motive that induced the wise
council to come to the reasonable opinion that it would be a ticklish
affair to spit us like bats, or to kill us like dogs with clubs.
When we little expected it, the Sultan raised his voice, without
commanding _silentium_ beforehand with his sceptre, and sang—his
eyes directed firmly and shining on us—a song of welcome, with a
strong, clear voice. This was soon ended, and the song had brightened
him up surprisingly, for he looked quite merrily around, as far
as his eyes, which were apparently effected by a cataract, would
allow him. This misfortune might be the cause also why he walked,
as if in a mist, with an insecure step on the vessel. According to
the translation passed by two interpreters from one to the other
into Arabic, he chanted us as being bulls, lions, and defenders of
the Penates (Tiràn, Sing Tor, Assad and Aguàn el bennàt).
He is of an imposing figure, with a regular countenance, marked
features, and has somewhat of a Roman nose. We noticed on all the
bare parts of his body remains of ochre, apparently not agreeing
very well with the skin, for here and there on the hands it was
cracked. He was the first man whom we had hitherto found clothed.
His temples are slightly depressed; on his head he wore a high bonnet,
in the form of a bear-skin cap, covered over and over with black
ostrich-feathers, which were fixed inside by an oval net-work. His
feather-tiara was fastened under his chin by two straps; two other
stiff red straps, with small leather tufts, projected like horns
over both temples; these horns denote here, perhaps, the royal
dignity, like the caps of horns (Takië betal Gorn) of the Moluks,
in Belled-Sudàn, and may be an imitation of Ammon, or of Moyses. He
shook his cap very often in real pleasure. A long and wide blue cotton
shirt, with long open sleeves, lined inside with white cotton, reached
down to the feet from the throat, where it was hollowed out round,
and had a red border. A large blue and white chequered cotton band,
bound round the hips, held this dress together. He wore round the
neck strings of blue glass paste, and rings of thin twisted iron
wire. The feet were covered with well-worked red sandals, of thick
leather. Bright polished iron rings, the thickness of the little
finger, reached from the ankles to the calf, exactly fitting to the
flesh, and increasing in size as they went up the leg. Above these
he wore another serrated ring, and a thin chain. The knuckles of
the right hand were surrounded with an iron and a red copper ring,
of twisted work. On the left hand he had a prettily decorated yellow
copper ring, with a dozen narrow iron rings, likewise fitted exactly
to the arm. As we subsequently saw, the upper part of both arms was
surrounded with two heavy ivory rings, of a hand’s breadth. Contrary
to the usual custom, he had also the _four lower incisors_; we could
not ascertain the cause of this distinction, and at our question on
the subject, he only answered with a cunning laugh. I soon remarked,
moreover, that he wanted the upper teeth; yet he may have lost them
from old age, for want of teeth is common even among these people,
and he might have numbered some sixty years.
This want of sound teeth—as negroes are always distinguished for
good teeth, and the marshy soil has entirely ceased in the country
of Bari—may perhaps only arise from eating some fruit unknown to
us, such as the cassavas in Guiana, which have the same effect; or
the reason for it may be sought in their pulling them out directly
they pain them, with their iron instruments, always at hand. The
constant smoking of their very strong tobacco, with the absence of
cleanliness, which, however, is not the case with our Nuba negroes,
may contribute to this imperfection. At first he smoked the cigar
given him, and then the Turkish pipe, with the air of an old smoker;
for smoking is a general custom among the nations on the White
Nile. Dates were set before him, and the others picked him out the
best, and breaking them in two, laid the stones in a heap, and gave
him the fruit in his hand, partaking of them with him.
The music which had accompanied him to the shore, and embarked on
board the vessel, consisted of a drum, made out of the trunk of
a tree, and beaten with sticks, a kind of clarionet, and a fife,
different only from the small ones worn by all the natives round
their necks by being three or four times larger. King Làkono’s
dress and copper rings came from the country of Berri; this was a
confirmation of what we had already heard. He had never seen horses,
asses, or camels, and it seemed as if there were no words in his
language to denote them; nor did he know of an unicorn, and did not
understand our explanation of these animals. If the Arabs in the land
of Sudàn do not deny the existence of the unicorn in the interior
of Africa, and even assert that there are some, if the subject be
followed up further, this arises from politeness, in order that they
may correspond with our desire to prove the real existence of such
an animal and is not what they know to be truth.
Làkono made himself comfortable afterwards, and sat down upon
the carpet, moving his little stool under his shoulders. A red
upper garment was fetched, and the Turks made him comprehend that
he must stand up to have it put on. They bound a white shawl round
his ribs, and another was twisted round his head, as a turban, after
they had clapped on him a tarbusch. On this, one of the two slaves
who accompanied him placed on his own head the royal feather-cap,
and laughed behind his master’s back. This only lasted, however, a
minute, though the others took no offence at it. The dress altogether,
was found to be too short and scanty for such limbs. Several strings
of beads were hung round Làkono’s neck, and several more piled up
before him, to take to his wives; hereupon he could rest no longer,
and went off, followed by all the others.
He was taken back by the sandal to the right shore, where his people
shouted to him a “hui ih!” and afforded him an assisting hand
when disembarking from the vessel, as well as on the shore itself,
according to the usual practice among themselves. We fired off cannons
in honour to him, as soon as he set foot on land. Fear thrilled
through them all, and even the Sultan set off running for a moment,
till he was disabused of his panic, probably by his brothers.
CHAPTER III.
MIMOSAS AND TAMARIND-TREES. — DIFFERENT SPECIES. — DURRA
AND CREEPING BEANS. — RELIGION OF THE ETHIOPIANS. — SECOND
VISIT OF LÀKONO. — THE CROWN-PRINCE TSHOBÈ. — PARTICULARS
OF THE COUNTRIES OF BARI AND BERRI. — DESCRIPTION OF LÀKONO’S
FAVOURITE SULTANA. — MOUNTAINS IN THE VICINITY OF BARI. — THEIR
FORM AND DISTANCE. — ISLAND OF TSCHANKER. — REMARKS ON LÀKONO’S
LEGISLATION AND CONDUCT. — THE NJAM-NJAM, OR CANNIBALS. — CUSTOMS
AND ARMS OF THE NATIVES. — THE TROPICAL RAINS.
25th January.—At eleven o’clock we leave our island at the
right shore, and halt towards the south, for the north-east wind is
favourable to us. On the right and left are several little villages,
and on the right shore a low foreland, which we had already visited
and found very fertile. Several poison-trees stand near the village
lying in the background. The bushàr and garrua have not left us,
but cover the greatest part of the shore, where the thorn-bushes
appear to diminish, the nearer we approach the equator. We remark
the very same circumstance with respect to the mimosas, and in those
that we still here and there see, the leaves are broader and seem
to announce varieties or different species. Even the tamarind-tree,
from which we have already gathered ripe fruit, has a different
physiognomy here to what we see in the country of the Shilluks;
the branches are more slender, and the larger leaves are not so
thickly piled one upon the other. I was laughed at by my servant
when I asked the name of this tree.
We sail along the left shore, and advance three miles and a half; but
one ship soon gets obstructed here, another there, and the water-track
pointed out to us by the natives is really very narrow. The stream,
which might previously have been about three hundred paces, is here
certainly five hundred. A large island, with another smaller one,
covered with durra, rises out of it. At one o’clock S.S.W., in
which direction we sail now at the right shore, where the water is
better than we had thought. The negroes continue to run along the
shore, or in the shallow places plunge into the water, and cry as
loud as they can to us to stop a little and barter with them. The
right shore is planted with durra, but it is already harvested. It
is a small reddish kind, giving but little meal. At the previous
landing-places there were, amongst other plants, several small
creeping beans, of white and red colour, thriving luxuriantly on
the ground. A small island on our left.
I hear, from the mast, that nineteen mountains (gùbàl) are counted,
without reckoning the small ones. The chain of mountains is, properly
speaking, not wooded; but that which looks like a forest, from a
distance is, in reality, the fragments of rocks, with which they are
nearly all studded at the base: yet between these blocks a tree and
copsewood here and there thrives, which may sprout out beautifully
green in the rainy season. A splendid ground, covered with trees,
and inclined towards the river, approaches to the foot of the Korek,
but does not probably afford the shade we suppose at a distance. The
shores are not only very strongly intersected with layers of sand,
but also the mould of the dam itself is completely mixed with
sand. Therefore it seems that the river enters now into a rocky bed,
from the mountains of which there is not much fertility to wash away.
Two o’clock; W. by S. On the left shore again, several of those
round-headed beautiful trees, with large acacia-leaves, under
which the negroes seek for shade. The Frenchmen had, according to
yesterday’s measuring, 4° 40′ north latitude, and 41° 42′
east longitude, from Paris. Selim-Capitan, however, found 4° 35′
north latitude, and 30° east longitude. At half-past two o’clock
we go with the river S.S.W., which direction it seems to retain for
the present. On the left an island. The people still continue to
shout, but they run no longer, as if they were mad, into the water,
to cling to and hold fast to the vessels, for the sailors rap their
fingers smartly; but stand quietly on one foot, resting the other
against the knee. Three o’clock; S.S.W. The water is not bad,
and we shall have, perhaps, a good course for a considerable time,
if we only sound properly. On the right there is a small island,
with a couple of tokuls behind upon the shore. Immediately on the
left is another shallow island, with luxuriant durra. The natives wade
through the water to an island situated not far from the left shore,
upon which we see a farmyard. Two more islands follow this one, and
they swarm with black people. Four o’clock. The direction of the
river is always still S.W., whilst we seek for deeper water in the
windings of the stream. Right and left are islands, and also tokuls,
part of which peep over the trees. The forms of the mountains become
more visible and different from what they had hitherto appeared. This
produces uncommon changes in the landscape, where all the surface
of the earth is picturesquely skirted with trees.
Who would have thought of such a beautiful country in the centre
of Africa, and looked for such a well-proportioned, gigantic race
as we see yonder! They are real giants. Go on shore, look at the
Turks, the Christians, and our other companions,—what children
they seem standing in the middle of this crowd of Titans. Half-past
four o’clock. Rocks shew themselves, for the first time, in the
river. Three large, and several small ones form an ominous crossline
for our voyage. At five o’clock we halt at an island near these
rocks. Here there are picturesque materials enough, and nothing
shall prevent me from taking a panorama of this region.
The people appear to be favoured of God as of heaven itself. The sun
and moon do not appear to excite any unusual ideas here, although
the former may be welcome in the morning, when they shake off the
night’s frost with the ashes, and in the evening to light them
when they return from the chase, from labour in the fields, and from
battle, or when they drive home their herds. The moon is of less
service to them, for they go to roost with the fowls. The beneficent
deeds of these two luminaries are too regular. But the canopy of
heaven itself may direct their thoughts above; from thence comes
the rain, irrigating their fields, causing the stream to increase,
filling and animating anew their large fish-ponds. God’s water
is allowed to flow over God’s land, and they are pleased at the
cheerful harvest, without praying, beseeching, and returning thanks,
for they may look upon periodical rain as a regular tribute from
above. Heaven does not forsake her people here, and the inexorable
sun, parching up everything, has perhaps never been worshipped by
the Ethiopians.
We lie now to the eastern side of the island of Tshànker. King
Làkono visited us to-day a second time, and brought with him a young
wife from his harìm. He took off his hand the orange-coloured ring,
on which Selim Capitan fixed a longing eye, and presented it to him
with a little iron stool, plainly forged in a hurry. The Crown-prince,
Tshobè, has a very intelligent countenance, and seems to me to
be a clever fellow. He wears no ornament on the upper part of his
arms, except the two large ivory rings. Although it was known that
he would succeed King Làkono, and that the latter had called him
his eldest son and successor, yet the Turks believed that he was
some relation of the king’s, whom he had only brought with him
to receive presents. I had, however, previously seen him with us,
and remarked at that time that he kept back proudly when the others
stepped forward for our gifts. But Làkono had only presented us with
two oxen, and given us a verbal mandate to the republicans of the left
shore; therefore, the Turks were discontented. Against all policy, the
honour of a Turkish coronation-mantle was not conferred upon Tshobè,
nor on the others who might have expected a dress. The prince took
the miserable glass beads with a kind of indifference and contempt.
We gathered further intelligence about the country, and Làkono was
complaisant enough to communicate to us some general information. With
respect to the Nile sources, we learn that it requires a month,
the signification of which was interpreted by thirty days, to
come to the country of Anjan towards the south, where the Tubirih
(Bah’r el Abiad) separates into four shallow arms, and the water
only reaches up to the ankles. Thirty days seems indeed a long time,
but the chain of mountains itself may present great impediments,
and hostile tribes and the hospice stations may cause circuitous
routes. These latter appear necessary, for the natives being already
overladen with weapons and ornaments, it is impossible that they
can carry provisions for so long a time, from the want of beasts of
burden. There are said to be found very high mountains on this side,
in comparison with which the ones now before us are nothing at all.
Làkono did not seem, according to my views, to understand rightly the
question, whether _snow_ was lying on these mountains. He answered,
however, _No_. Now, when I consider the thing more closely, it is
a great question to me whether he and his interpreter have a word
for snow; for though the Arabic word telki or snow is known perhaps
in the whole land of Sudàn, yet _that_ itself is unknown. Whether
these four brooks forming the White Stream come from rocks or from
the ground, Làkono could not say for he had not gone further. With
respect to the country of Berri, which he stated in his first visit
was likewise a month distant, Làkono now corrected himself and
said that this country is not thirty, but only ten days’ journey
off to the east. He impressed on us particularly that copper is
as abundant, and found there in the same manner as iron here. He
appears, indeed, to wish to inflame our gold-seeking hearts by his
repeated commendations of this country, on purpose that he may get
possession, at one blow, of the treasures, with the assistance of
our fire-arms. He expected an answer which could not be given him,
because the Dinkaui, who translated his words into Arabic, only told
us (according to my full conviction) what he chose to let us know,
most probably being induced by the other soldiers and sailors to do
everything he could for our speedy return.
We also heard that on the road water is found, but that in Berri
itself there is _no river_, and that the natives drink from _springs_
(Birr). The people of Bari get their salt, which is quite clear and
fine-grained, from thence. It is boiled in earthen pots, and retains
their form. The language of the country of Berri is different from
that of Bari. The blue beads, in the form of little cylinders, which
we saw on Làkono and some others, and had even found previously,
came also from Berri. We had similar-formed glass paste, of white
and blue colours; but the higher value was set on the blue, and on
the large, round, blue beads.
Commercial intercourse in Berri does not seem to be carried on in a
very peaceful manner, according to what we had heard previously, and
also now from some of the King’s companions; for it is boasted that
on the way home copper is plundered from the people on the road, with
whom they take up their quarters, and who have it piled up in their
houses. They say that the men on the copper mountains are a very bad
set; and that therefore they are obliged to take from them again the
spears which they had given them for copper. In Berri also the people
go naked, and there are few dresses such as Làkono possesses. The
latter asserts that his dominion reaches seven days’ journey further
up the river. Much might be learnt if there were more order, on our
side, in the questions; but they are jumbled up one with the other,
and asked more for amusement than for scientific interests, without
once reflecting whether the answer corresponds to the question or not.
The favourite Sultana had certainly not much to boast of in the
way of beauty, but she was an amiable looking woman: she was not
at all shy, and looked freely around her. A number of glass beads
were given to her, and she was too much of a woman and negress not
to be exceedingly delighted at them. Làkono restrained himself, as
at the first time, on the sight of such presents, within the limits
of pleasing surprise, without betraying the least symptom of the
childish joy which is indigenous in these men of nature. She was,
however, very cordial with him, and he with her; he helped her
even to pack together her ornaments in a handkerchief, and gave
it over to her with a benevolent look. I had the honour also of a
friendly smile from her, which I naturally returned. She remarked
this immediately to her lord and master, whereupon the latter bowed
his entire approbation, and smiled at me.
This queen was very simply adorned for her rank. Her head was shaven
quite bare, without a diadem and other ornaments; her hair, the
embellishment of woman, was therefore put to the sword, and with it
also the first advantageous impression, even if the nose had not been
slightly turned in. She was simply clothed with two leathern aprons,
under which, through her continually shifting her seat, I caught sight
of a rahàt. A number of polished iron rings were spread over the
joints of her hands and feet. A narrow ring of ivory was on the upper
part of each arm; and around the neck a large iron ring, from which
a great tooth, a flat little bell, and some other knick-knackeries of
iron, hung down to her breasts, which are already tolerably withered,
for she has probably borne children. She had red sandals on the feet,
with little iron rings on them as ornaments. All the under part
of the body was tattooed—this may be the sign of a foreign race;
the nose also is of a different stamp to those in Bari. The root of
the nose is certainly strongly depressed in these women, of whom I
saw yesterday also some specimens, so that it forms, with the arched
forehead, not an unpleasing waved line, terminating in a saucy point,
without the latter becoming a flat knob. If we could have put into the
mouth, where the four lower incisors also were wanting, a ducat, or
perhaps a dollar, the teeth would not then have projected in the negro
manner, and those blubber lips would not have been at all noticed.
The skull, throughout Bari, is not generally pressed back like that of
animals, to the occiput, although the latter is strongly developed. I
find, however, no difference in the form of our Egyptian thick heads
directly they take off their tarbusch. The _fluidum primordiale_
of the Barian power of creation must therefore have worked, in
this mountain-land, with the same noble power as that of the land
of Kashmire.
In other respects our queen was well formed, and the calves of her
legs projected tolerably stoutly over the iron rings. Even in Germany
she would have been considered one of the tallest of her sex, and
here also her size would be surprising if she wore a long dress. She
was at least five and a half Rhenish feet high, for she looked very
comfortably over my head. On this occasion I discovered remains of
ochre in her close-cut hair, a sign that she does not use soap. Her
name is Ishòk; she could scarcely keep herself from laughing, and
appeared to be very much flattered when she heard her charming name
repeated by us several times. Làkono and his queen had brought a
doll, representing a woman, hewn roughly from wood, as a present,
which turned out, contrary to our expectation, to be only a doll;
for they laughed immensely when we asked them whether they worshipped
or adored it as a deity.
We could not get a clear conception of their ideas of religion—the
less so, because the Tershomàn translating into Arabic was a heathen
Dinkaui. It seems that they worship a spirit of nature, for we had
been previously told that their god was grander than the mast of
our vessel. Whether they reverence him under a tree, as the criminal
court of Làkono seems to denote, is a question I do not venture to
decide. Horns, teeth, and amulets point to some sort of worship.
Without troubling himself further with farewell ceremonies, Làkono
rose with his men; but his wife had previously looked at the carpet,
gave him a friendly dig in the ribs, and whispered a few words to
him. The great king did not wait for this being said twice; he seized
the end of the carpet, and gave it over, without further ceremony, to
the slave close at hand. This carpet belonged, however, to Rassulla
Effendi, who was the maùhn, or scribe, to Selim Capitan, and a
Persian by birth. He drew a long face on seeing these proceedings,
but was consoled with the promise of another new carpet, and the
whole thing was laughed at as an ingenious trick.
A panorama, to which, however, the neighbourhood of beautiful
mountain-forms lends the true charm, opens from the Island of
Tshànker. Opposite to us, on the right shore, we see the village
of Wuàlana, and before it lies a shallow island, called Koriana;
on the right shore lie, at a short distance from it, the villages of
Harikono and Amrit. The houses of the villages are tokuls, part of
them having higher pointed roofs. Shady trees stand around, and the
copsewood enjoys such a verdant life that we might fancy ourselves
in a northern region.
The mountains lie around in the following direction: Mount Lof-et
rises behind Mount Pelenjà, to S.E. by E., at a distance of
about four hours, like an isolated mountain of small height. Mount
Pelenjà, to S.E., in tolerable extent, from its peak about eight
hundred feet high, S.E., 60″ to S. and 75″ to E., some three
hours distant, a small mountain group of a rocky nature, and partly
wooded, completely secluded. The mountain chain of Logojà, where
cannibals dwell, the anterior peak of which seems to project to N.,
rises at a distance of from eight to nine hours, to a height like
that of the seven hills seen from Cologne, with a lofty back, which
appears, so far as it is not concealed from the eye by the mountains
lying before it right and left, to extend from S.E. southerly 60″
long. The Hill of Liènajin, or Linanzin, a gently rising rock,
covered with bushes, towards S.E. 50″ to S., distant an hour and
a half. The still smaller rocks of Arlu, to S.E. by S., two hours
distant; the rocks of Luluri or Lullulù to S.E. 30″ to S., one
hour and a half. In the S. rises Mount Lugi, smoothed at the top,
with precipitous disrupt walls of rock, which does not appear to
exceed Korèk in height, and may have six hundred feet relative
height. The river winds a little to the W. around its base, and this
mountain may once have formed a terrace, which has joined to the
mountain chain of Kàlleri, lying behind to S.S.E., forming as it
were the foot to the mass of mountains rising up in the S. We see
on the unevenly elevated rocky wall of Kàlleri, the dry bed of a
cataract, to which even the natives drew our attention.
[Illustration: MOUNT PELENJA. MOUNTAIN CHAIN OF LOGOJA. MT. KORESCHIP.
MT. KONNOPI. ISLAND OF KORIANA.
COUNTRY ON THE RIGHT SHORE OF THE NILE FROM THE ISLAND OF TSHANKER,
TOWARDS SOUTH-EAST.—27TH JANUARY, 1841.]
All these mountains and rocky hills lie on the right side of the
river. This coincides with what has been said to us previously,
and the plastic formation of the mountains themselves shews that
the river does not break through from E. or S.E., and the natives
are right when they place the sources of the White Stream to the
_south_. On the left side of the river rises first, S.W. 3″ to W.,
Mount Lòngi, at two hours distant; Mount Lobèk, with a rocky head
S.W. 28″ to W., three hours; the flat, round Loffoni S.W. 30″
to W. four hours; Mount Bio S.W. 60″ to W., some eight hours
distant, ascending again to a considerable height; Mount Korèk,
already known to us, on the ground softly rising from the river; it
is one hour and a half from the river, entirely of a rocky nature,
intersected in manifold parts by steep disrupt walls of rocks, similar
to quarries. All its peaks not only lie in the distance, where the
whole mountain appears like a terrace, but also near at hand, in
equal horizontal lines, from W. to 75″ to N. It is perhaps not more
than six hundred feet high, and it is the mountain that principally
affords iron, although all the heights are said to contain the same.
As I distinguished previously Mount Nerkanjin on the left side of the
Nile, by its height, so the mountains seem to increase generally
on this side in height, as also the country from the shore to
S.W. gradually ascends. Mount Konnopi or Kunobih appears W. by N.,
at a distance of from nine to ten hours, of light-coloured rocks,
without any vegetation. It forms likewise a mountain group, with
its six or seven peaks, which fall away tolerably steeply in convex
lines, and separate one from the other. The high points of this
group are of equal form, and may rise to two hundred feet relative
height. Behind this mountain and Korèk, a mountain-chain projecting
on both sides of Korèk, which stretches itself for about an hour in
length, extends in an undulating form, and loses itself to S. This
chain is called Kugelù, and I calculate its distance at being at
least twenty hours. To N.W. 73″ towards N. lies Mount Lokùn,
about two to two and a half hours distant, with a gentle slope of
small height, and to N. the Nerkanjin already known to us, some
eight to nine hours distant.
If we only consider the situation of these mountains generally,
and the evidence of the natives with reference to the origin of the
White Stream, who, from the moment that they stated the iron came
from the mountains in the south (where we had already hoped for
mountains), shewed their accurate knowledge of locality, and who
here, also, transfer the sources of the White arm of the Nile from
the foot of the mountain land _further to the south_, every doubt
must be removed by the agreement of these expressions. Even among
us the opinion was prevalent that the sources of the Nile should
be sought to the east in a ramification of the Abyssinian chain of
high mountains. We have therefore made close inquiries, whether any
_running water_ were existing on this side, and learned that there
is not; for the people in that part, drink, on the contrary, from
_springs_. Nature seems here to have formed, generally, to the east,
as well as to the west, a watershed.[2]
In S.E. Mount Logojà is seen, at a distance of eight to nine hours,
a chain of mountains stretching from E. to S.; in the west rises
Mount Kugelù, twenty hours off, like a long serpentine track,
which must be in proportion to the presumed distance, as also
its height to the near rocky mountains of considerable elevation,
and seems to extend likewise to the south. Both mountain chains
may, in consequence of these exterior plastic proportions, rise up
like branches to the mighty trunk of mountains in the south, as the
natives on the Island of Tshànker endeavoured to shew me when I was
sketching, by uttering names and making unmistakable gestures. This
mountain-stock, perhaps a second Himalaya, may form the combination
of streams of the White Nile between these its sides. The river here
formerly broke violently through its projecting base—isolated Mount
Lugi, which is like a half demolished pyramid, and rushed down over
it like a powerful waterfall.
Selim Capitan made three observations upon the Island of Tshànker,
and the northern latitude was confirmed as 4° 30″. The stream,
having a direction to S.S.W., is found to be three hundred mètres[3]
broad, from the island to the right shore. The two arms of the river
may amount to something over one hundred mètres from the island to
the left shore, before which another little island lies. A rocky
bar of gneiss extends here from E. to W. right across the stream,
and continues beyond the islands, the highest points of which it
forms, to the left shore, where we may follow the traces of this
rocky bank to a still greater distance, for it projects in a slight
breadth over the ascending grounds. This reef, running from E. to
W. which may give the direction of the succeeding chasms in the
valley broken through by the stream, rises in the middle of the
river to a larger rock, and other blocks peep out of the water
towards the right shore, whilst the other rocky part towards the
Island of Tshànker is only superficially covered by water. The
current gushes by the before-named rocks as at the Bingen Loch,[4]
and it is only there where we may expect to find a passage.
Our Arabs are glad at this tschellàl, as they call a waterfall, or
even a current, and want to take it immediately for an insurmountable
wall, even before sounding the passage. The conchylia, similar to
oysters, clinging to these gneiss rocks, are the thorn-muscles, which
are found also at the cataracts in Nubia (_Etheria tubifera_). By
mistake, I previously called these muscles _ampulla tubulosa_.[5]
Besides the snails mentioned on a former occasion, I found on the
shores of the White Stream the large water-snails (_ampullaria ovata
var._), as well as the muscles (_Iridina rubens_, and _Anodonta
acuta_).
The specimens of sand I brought back with me, and which were subjected
to an examination in Berlin, with my other geognostical collections,
have been already defined by Dr. Girard, in C. Ritters’ “Glance
at the Source-Territory of the Nile.”
He says:—“A sand from the shore of the Bahr-el-Abiad, in the
kingdom of Bari, is similar to this sand (from the Sobàt river), only
a little coarser in the grain, which, however, is only at the most
of the size of millet-grain: it contains principally quartz, but more
mica than the former, and has considerably more of those black grains,
from which we see that it is horn-blende. This is either derived
from syenite and diorite masses, as they often appear in gneiss
and mica-slate mountains, or they might be also of volcanic origin,
for the lava of the Gebl Defafaungh lying to the north boundary of
these plains, contains the same in great abundance.” With respect
to the constituent part of the rocks of this cataract, Dr. Girard
observes:—“It is gneiss, consisting of white feldspar, and a good
deal of white mica, and mica-slate, containing much granular, brittle,
white and yellow quartz, no feld-spar, and small scaly black mica.”
The island of Tshànker, on which I planted a number of palm-seeds,
rises, with reference to the back of the surface of the earth,
fifteen feet high above the present water-mark. The natives could
not have been able to have sown the ground, which is strongly mixed
with sand, with the simsim (sesame), a grass particularly requiring
moisture, if the water of the swollen river had not remained upon it
for some time. In accordance with that, the chain of mountains must
have discharged an immense body of water during the rainy season,
for the island appears to me to lie somewhat higher than either of
the shores, and the high water overflows therefore not only this
island, but also a great part of the shores which are separated
about six hundred mètres from each other. From this cause arise
the beautiful green trees, and the verdant low country lying back,
from which ephemeral shallow lakes the water seems to be drawn off
by canals. Like Oases (Arabic Oà), they lie there in a level land,
which is parched up far and wide.
Legislation appears to be in a peculiar state in the country of
Bari. We were told that King Làkono slew criminals with his own hand,
by a thrust with a spear, and very quickly (goàm, goàm), without
any ceremonies; he sits under a large tree, with a heavy spear in
his hand, to pass judgment, and assumes a very angry look. Perhaps
the great spirit of the tree may inspire him on such a presidency,
or rather his own feeling of justice may cause this righteous anger,
and make him the supreme judge and executioner of the misdoer,
the latter being devoted also to death by the unanimous will of the
assembly. Priests or sorcerers do not appear to be assembled at these
public sittings in judgment, which remind us of the ancient German
institutions, because not a trace has been found, so far as I know,
of any such men among these people. The great king, therefore, does
not crack the criminal’s skull with the club-sceptre he usually
carries, as I imagined on his first visit; but the very same views of
a death without dishonour seem to prevail here as among the Shilluks,
who do not slay the Arabs taken prisoners by them with the honourable
spear, but beat them to death like a dog with the hassaie.
The innate respect towards the king is, however, greater perhaps than
the royal power. This may mostly be reduced to the gigantic limbs of
his family and all his adherents, amongst whom the heads of tribes
subject to him, may be numbered, who stand around his free stool as
judges armed, although not voting, maintaining order, and easily
defeating his solitary antagonists, with their heavy sceptres of
ebony, like constables’ staves.
It is evident that he has opponents, and indeed not a few, from the
circumstance that he requested us to shoot some people on the left
shore, because they were always making war on those of the right
shore. It might therefore seem quite right to him that several of
the inhabitants of that side were shot down a few days ago, in so
shameful a manner, from our vessels. His statements of the hostile
feelings of the men there does not appear, however, to be founded
on truth, for we have seen several times herds of cattle swimming
over from one shore to the other, without any robbery and contention
taking place in consequence. On a closer inquiry, his main grievance
was unbosomed; for two years he had _not_ received _anything_ from
the people of the left shore. This was interpreted, consonant to
Turkish views, to mean Tulba (tribute); it seems to me, however,
to denote rather a voluntary contribution, because he complained at
the same time, that he had nothing to live upon, and therefore was
not able to give us anything.
King Làkono had a very sound understanding, and contrived skilfully
to evade the demand for meat, and the desire expressed to visit him
at his residence; for the Turks wanted to make a closer inspection
of his treasures, since gold was said to be among them. He always
affirmed that we should be obliged, in paying such a return visit, to
swim through a deep gohr, although we had been previously told that
he possessed a large and handsome sürtuk, in which he plies far up
and down the river. Our sandal, which appeared to him probably more
fitted for use than his own hewn-out trunk of a tree, pleased him
so well, that he asked it as a present. Of course we were obliged to
refuse him; for this little skiff was quite indispensable to us for
communication. It was promised that a far handsomer vessel should
be built for him at Marseilles—a white lie, with which he did not
seem to be content. It was tolerably plain, from the badly translated
expressions of these lords of Bari, and still more from the far more
intelligible language of signs, of which they were not sparing,
that they were perfectly conscious of their superiority in force;
for they signified, with ironical laughter, that they could easily
take our sandal by force, because it was the smallest of our vessels.
Although Làkono seemed not to have expected such an answer from
us, and to be offended at it, yet he did not relinquish his plans of
conquest and booty, in which we were to assist him. He wished not only
to undertake a warlike expedition, in company with us, to Berri, so
rich in copper, but also to the neighbouring mountain-chain of Logajà
(also Lokonjà). The cannibals dwelling upon this mountain—not
known here, however, by the name of Njam-Njam—had been long the
subject of conversation among the crew. According to what we heard
from the natives below, these ill-famed mountaineers had heads, and
went on all-fours like dogs; this was repeated also, even in Bari,
probably from our misunderstanding the language.
Captain Selim, the Muscovite, to whom courage could not be denied
in other respects, had, even in Khartùm, been wonderfully afraid
of these so-called Njam-Njams. Now, however, he allowed his fear
to mount to a truly ridiculous height, probably because he was the
most corpulent of us all, except Selim-Capitan. He thought nothing
less than that he would be the first roast morsel which that savage
mountain-race would choose for a feast, on a favourable nocturnal
opportunity. Before the first expedition, my brother had designated
him a plump morsel (kabàb semmin) for the cannibals; and scarcely
was he summoned to this expedition than he inquired repeatedly and
anxiously about the existence and the abode of these men. This joke
was now haunting his brains, and particularly when his fat face was
lighted up by the enjoyment of araki, which he drank secretly in
his cabin, in order not to let the others partake of it. In such
a condition as this, he exhorted me to assist in urging as speedy
a return as possible; and, moreover, to think of my poor brother
Jussùf, who perhaps was ill.
Làkono, explained, on closer questioning, the ominous rumour of the
Anthropophagi, with dogs’ heads, and informed us that these bad
people have heads indeed, like others, but allow _all their teeth_
to remain in their head, and crawl _upon all-fours_ when they eat
men. This means, perhaps, nothing more than that they do not join in
open combat with the inhabitants of Bari, but crawl close to people,
like dogs, plunder them, and perhaps eat them. The Baghàras assert,
that the same custom of crawling, in marauding expeditions, exists
among the Shilluks; and our Circassians relate things, which are
scarcely credible, of the manner in which boys and girls are caught
in their country.
It was _confirmed_ here what we had previously heard, viz. that
brothers do not marry sisters, nor fathers daughters; they were
indignant, and with reason, at such a question. The bride is purchased
from the father for sixty to seventy oxen: this price might be
called dear, in spite of the numerous herds of cattle here; yet it
counteracts polygamy and the enfeeblement of race thereby produced,
as much as the forbidding of marriage among blood relations. The
release of a prisoner costs only thirty oxen, whence we might conclude
that their wars, which they appear to carry on only by the river’s
side, are not very barbarous. Besides, their spears confirm this
supposition, for they are ground off to a smooth edge, and have no
barbs such as those of the people of the mountains in these regions,
and in the land of Sudàn.
The spears with barbs found amongst them, have been either received in
exchange, having been thrown by the mountaineers in the mutual feuds,
or they have been forged by themselves for the chase, to cast at the
wild deer when they hunt them to death. The poisoning of arrows,
with their various barbs, is certainly against this humane view
of the character of the people. They warned us of poison every
time we purchased arrows, yet I found a quantity among them not
poisoned. It may therefore be usual to use the latter only in war,
because otherwise they would poison their spears; whilst they shoot
the deer with the former, without the poison perhaps exercising
any effect when the flesh is eaten—as Shömburg says, is also
the case in Guiana. They bury their dead in a recumbent posture,
and far away from their huts or tokuls.
According to Làkono and his relations, the rainy season will set
in, in _two months_ from the present time, (therefore at the end
of March, or beginning of April.) This appears, in truth, somewhat
late: for the two arms of the Nile, near Khartùm, begin to ascend
nearly simultaneously on the 2nd or 3rd of May, and it is impossible
that even one drop of these first rains in the high land, which the
thirsty soil, moreover, immediately absorbs, and which are swallowed
up by a course in a long valley-land, should reach Khartùm from
hence in so short a time. The regions lying lower, and subject to
the tropical rains, are the cause perhaps of the first swellings
to the White Stream; for, before all those numerous low grounds
and shallow lakes are full, the eventual connections with the more
distant inner waters, are restored and overflow. Much more time
is required for this than for the effusion of the mountain waters,
near the sloping rocky ground lying before us.
If we should not, however, take the nearer district of the tropical
rains as an explanation of the simultaneous swelling of both arms
of the Nile near Khartùm, we could not explain this phenomenon,
for the mountain waters of the White Stream must, though with a far
slower course, make three times as long a way as those of the Blue
Nile, in just the same time. A difference is consequently seen at
Khartùm at high water, which, however, soon becomes equal, from
the mutual pouring into each other of the arms, or by the damming
up of the tributary streams.
Fadl is my faithful confidant in purchasing the curiosities of
the country; he is slow and painstaking in a negotiation, when
I immediately lose my patience. He first, for a long time, squats,
as he used to do in the land of Sudàn, with the people here; plays
with the glass beads,—holds the larger ones by themselves against
the light, as if they were jewels; and the good Ethiopians become
so confident and longing, that they can hold out no longer; and then
he is very slow in giving any, so that the value increases in their
eyes. They are not only, as I have before said, very mistrustful in
this barter, but also so undecided, like children, that beads and
goods are often given away and returned. I have some hopes that my
Ethnographical collection will increase considerably in this manner
during the return voyage, for we have already exchanged many weapons
and other things.
The spears of this country are distinguished by a greater elegance in
the workmanship, and do not exceed the length of the gigantic bodies
of these men. With the exception of a few, they are javelins, seven
feet long, with a shaft of the thickness of a thumb. The shaft of
bamboo is encircled entirely, or partly, with a narrow band of iron,
or with the skins of snakes and land crocodiles, and the lower end
surrounded with an iron knob and single rings, in order that the spear
may have the proper equilibrium in the hand when it is hurled. About
half a foot from the end it is generally furnished with a tuft of
fur, which seems to stand in the place of a _feathered_ arrow, a
weapon never seen here. The iron of the head is one and a half to
two feet long, the back flat, and the knob has four little bosses.
The bows are from five and a half to six and a half feet long,
of bamboo, and encircled in the same manner; the strings are made
from the inner bark of trees. The arrows are very neatly wrought,
have barbs, and are two and a half to three feet long.
The harpoons employed against crocodiles and hippopotami, have,
with the short point, which has only one barb, a length of thirteen
to fourteen feet. The shank, of bamboo, is an inch and a half thick,
and is not fastened to the point (neither are the shafts to the beads
of lances, so that it comes off in launching the harpoon. The point
itself remains by a long thin line made of bark, in the possession
of the fisherman, and is always visible to him at the end by a float
of ambak wood, until the animal struck has exhausted its rage; and
then, sitting in his hewn-out trunk of a tree (sürtuk), he takes
the line in his hand, and with a spear attacks the exhausted beast
as it comes up to the surface for air, until it bleeds to death.
The ivory rings, two of which are often seen on the upper part of
each arm, are two pounds and upwards in weight; the fluted clubs of
ebony are two to three pounds. The knives are crooked, rounded at the
top, and half a foot long, with a handle one and a half or less in
length. The people procure the materials for their beautiful works
in iron from Mount Korèk, in the tanks and gohrs of which iron is
said to be found, like sand, in immense quantities. They brought me a
little basket full of this coarse-grained black mineral, and with it
a few scoriæ. According to Marian, the men smelt in earthen pots;
for furnaces and such like are as little to be looked for here as
in Kordofàn.
This is pure magnet-iron, which, as my Nuba thinks, they free from
the larger stones, and then shake in a sieve, to free it from the fine
rocky sand. Girard says that this magnet-iron shews also, in several
places, specular-iron, and recalls to mind similar appearances in
the great Mica slate chain of mountains of the Brazils. The specimens
of stones procured from Mount Korèk, through the natives, were of a
reddish coarse-grained granite, although we had expected gneiss from
thence, having found it near and upon the island of Tshanker. Yet I
would not be certain that these specimens were not taken from some
other mountain. What rich results might ensue from an examination
of these mountains!
CHAPTER IV.
KING LÀKONO’S PRIDE. — BEER KNOWN TO THE ANCIENT EGYPTIANS. —
BAR OF ROCKS. — WAR-DANCE OF THE NATIVES. — DETERMINATION
OF THE TURKS TO RETURN, AND DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE AUTHOR. —
COMMENCEMENT OF THE RETURN VOYAGE. — REPUBLICANS IN THE KINGDOM
OF BARI. — VISIT OF THE FRENCHMEN TO MOUNT KORÈK. — REASON OF
THE AUTHOR’S AVERSION TO ARNAUD. — CONDUCT OF VAISSIÈRE AND
SCENE IN HIS DIVAN. — CULTIVATION OF COTTON AT BARI. — APATHY
OF FEÏZULLA-CAPITAN AND THE CREW. — SUPERIORITY OF MAN TO WOMAN
IN A NATIVE STATE. — WATCHHOUSES.
26th and 27th January.—King Làkono, notwithstanding his
complaisance in other respects, is proud in this single instance:
he will not go on board any _other_ vessel than that of Selim
Capitan’s, much as Arnaud wishes it, who promises us a great
_fête_ when we shall bring this to pass. Selim Capitan passes with
him for a matta enjoying the same privileges as himself, because
he has our treasures, glass ornaments, and clothes, in his keeping,
and distributes them _ad libitum_, with the consent of Suliman Kashef.
The island of Tshanker, called also Riëm to Selim Capitan in my
presence (perhaps the name of the second and smaller island), has
become, since our abode here, a market for barter. A great crowd
of people is always collected here, and Selim Capitan considers it
advisable to give them a taste of the effect of a gun. He therefore
shot a bull while running, twice in the head; unfortunately the
balls did not pierce through, and therefore the beast staggered, but
did not fall. Hereupon Selim held the barrel behind the animal’s
ear, and the bull fell; the people, indeed, drew back astonished,
but the excessive fear of fire-arms appears, since our short stay,
to be at an end in the more civilised state of Bari.
I was the cause of presents being made to Làkono, for future
sowing of maize, and a better kind of durra, Ommòs (Egyptian
peas), and the so-called horse-beans, (called by the Arabs, Ful,
and a very nourishing favourite food of theirs,) beside many other
fruits. He seemed to me to be a man who would take care to sow them,
for he planted even the stones of the dates which he had eaten
with us. If the dates in these warmer regions should ever come up,
the whole crew, without meaning it, have contributed to plant them,
because they threw away the stones of the dates they ate on all the
landing-places. I doubt, however, if dates will ever thrive, because
the doum-palms have a very stunted appearance in the lower countries
of the White Stream, and for a long time have entirely disappeared.
As the vine thrives in Sennaar, it might grow also here, and I should
have gained immortal fame if I had not unfortunately forgotten,
in Khartùm, the layers of vines I had determined to take with
me. Merissa is also not unknown here, as the black soldiers told me,
who had drank it, and found it equally good as that of Sennaar. _Beer_
was known even to the ancient Egyptians: what is now prepared in
Egypt under the name of Busa, from wheat (kamm) is bad and pappy; in
Nubia, Belled-Sudàn, we get it of better quality, made from durra,
and called generally merissa: the same is also quite a common drink in
this country. Beer appears, consequently, to be generally indigenous
where agriculture takes place, and where wine has not received the
preference due to it.
_28th January._—Nature has drawn here a real bar of rocks through
the White Stream, which we dare not venture to surmount; for the water
has fallen, for some days, as is quite evident, and the vessels could
only, by taking out all their freight, pass the defile near the large
rocks, which is called on this account, bab, or gate. The river-bed
beginning from hence, appears to be generally of a more rocky nature,
for we perceive, even from the rocks on the Island of Tshanker,
breakers in the stream up the river: however, there is no doubt,
that we might sail away victoriously over these obstacles at the
time of the inundation, for the river here rises to about eighteen
feet high. The main thing would be, then, for north winds to blow
exactly at this period, strong enough to withstand the pressure of
water rising in this mountain-land; for I am still of opinion that
the rapidity of the current increases from hence in such a manner,
that we could not advance by the rope even with the best will. We have
remained here at the island three entire days, and the _ne plus ultra_
is not so much inscribed on the Pillars of Hercules in the water,
as desired in the hearts of the whole expedition.
The war-dance, which the blacks performed yesterday, has contributed
certainly to the final determination to return. Even I thought
yesterday that I heard and saw in the fearful battle-song,
a declaration of war, and a challenge to the contest. It was
almost impossible to persuade oneself that it was merely a mark of
honour. The natives marched up and down the island, in columns,
brandishing their lances in the air, sang their war-songs with
threatening countenances and dreadful gestures, then fell into
still greater ecstasy, ran up and down, and roared their martial
chant. Nevertheless I altered my opinion that this was done with
hostile views, for the native interpreters remained quietly with
us on board the vessel; and when we sent them to request that this
honour might not be paid to us, they returned, though not having
effected our object.
It was thought advisable that we should leave the shore, for the
natives had only need spring down to be on board our vessels. There
were certainly too many black people, and a warlike rapacious
enthusiasm might easily, it was true, possess their minds, inflamed
as they were by the military manœuvres. It was well, therefore,
that a reiterated request on our side was answered, and an end
put to the warlike ceremony, without our having betrayed our fear,
by pushing off from the shore.
I remained this night on board Selim Capitan’s vessel, to induce
him to _renew_ the examination of the rocky pass in the water, and
to allow me to accompany him; but he declared to me, although he
could not conceal his own nervousness, that not only the Frenchmen,
but also Suliman Kashef, even if the latter told me the contrary,
have determined not to proceed further. I knew therefore how
to explain why Selim Capitan and Arnaud had gone alone to the
rocky pass, without letting me know of their intention, although
the spot to be explored, where a passage possibly might be made,
was scarcely a gun-shot distance from us. I felt myself, however,
too much weakened from my illness to swim to it, and to scale the
rocks, for I would not ask the favour of the sandal. My servants, who
wished as much as myself to proceed further, had been at the place;
and Fadl, who had been previously a mariner himself, declared that
we could certainly pass through, but not back again, if the water
continued to fall so much as it has done now for some days.
Selim Capitan was really inclined to explore the ascent, but this
continuation of the voyage was not to last longer than a day. But
when he knelt this morning on his carpet, before sun-rise, directing
his face to the East, for prayer, and discerned the numerous fires
on the right shore, which he had not remarked during his ablutions,
he looked at me so mournfully and suspiciously, that I could scarcely
restrain my laughter. He concluded his prayer; and now he saw also
on the island of Tshanker, near us, a number of such little straw
fires, over which the naked people were warming themselves; whilst
nearly every single man was stretching out his long legs over his
own little fire. Then his courage sank anew, for there were still
more blacks than yesterday.
These men, however, did not come empty-handed, and barter rose to a
pitch of greatness and variety, such as we had not before seen—a
quantity of fowls, goats, sheep, cows and calves, wood, ferruginous
sand, and iron dross, tobacco, pipes, simsim, durra, weapons, all
kinds of ornaments for the body—everything for beads. Nevertheless
the good Ethiopians did not shew themselves to-day quite blameless,
for they sold quivers full of arrows, many of which were without
points. They delivered the wares while receiving the beads, or
the seller ran hastily away, retaining the goods as well as the
purchase-money; they cuffed and wrestled with our men, without,
however, making use of their weapons. On the whole, however, the
injustice was on our side; the drum therefore beat to recall the
crew to the vessels.
It was the middle of the day, about two o’clock, when Selim Capitan,
in order to take his leave, and to employ the dreaded people at the
moment of our departure, and keep them far from us, threw ten cups of
sug-sug on shore, and the cannons on all the vessels were discharged,
to bid solemn farewell with twenty-one shots to the beautiful country
which must contain so many more interesting materials. The forty
or forty-two days lost by Arnaud’s fault, in Korusko, are again
recalled to my mind. If we had arrived here twenty days previously,
neither would all these rocks have been an obstacle, nor would there
have been a pretext for not proceeding further; and it would have
been no absolute misfortune, supposing that in our _return_ we had
not been able immediately to sail over this reef of rocks.
Rain begins here, as I have already said, in two months’ time. On
its setting in, the neighbouring masses of rocks discharge their
water into the river-bed; the river rises after a few days, and it
would not be difficult, therefore, at the expiration of that time,
to pass the rocky bar. But against the proposal to wait for the
rainy season, the objection, partly founded in fact, was offered,
that the provisions which had been provided for ten months, would
not suffice for the return voyage. Certainly the provisions had been
shamefully dealt with, and there was little to be expected from the
people of this country, who would be paid for every thing. It is just
as clear that the natives do not cultivate agriculture beyond their
immediate necessities, and therefore have stored up no magazines, as
that their herds are only sufficient for their consumption, because,
had it been otherwise, the Sultan, leaving aside the people, must have
shewn himself more liberal. It is certain also, that with the hitherto
lavish profusion of glass-beads, their value must infallibly decrease,
and that therefore we shall soon be in want of this means of payment.
The principal reason, however, of my proposal not meeting with favour,
appears to me to lie in this, that a sudden attack by the natives
was feared, and not entirely without justice, on a longer and closer
acquaintance, by which our supremacy, at all events, must suffer;
because Turks wish always to remain Turks, that is, born lords of
the earth. As a last resource I rely upon a third expedition, and
this thought afforded me also some consolation.
The water has diminished to a remarkable degree. Close to the first
island, which is next to the left shore, we ran aground, and now we
have been squatting for several hours near the second island, lying
at the left shore. All “lissa” and “ela” cannot bring us from
the spot, although the men, who are trying to raise the vessel in
the water, have rested twice from exhaustion. The negroes, indeed,
approach us and laugh, but they may wish, notwithstanding, to assist
us; yet it appears advisable to keep them at a distance by firing, so
that they may not remark the impotency of a vessel when stranded. I
here count, from the deck, eight villages on the rising ground of
the left shore; on the right, lying more level with the water-line,
only two. The sun sinks behind Mount Korèk, and we hope to work
ourselves off this time. This may be a difficult return voyage,
for we have many shallow places to pass, and the water continues to
fall. We are again afloat at sunrise.
Behind the last-mentioned island we remark another little one; then
we pass between two islands, for this voyage by the left shore is
of a very complicated nature. We are scarcely off before the vessel
immediately again sticks fast, and whirls round like a top. We proceed
down the river close to the left shore, the negroes throwing stones
at us; we know not whether they are in jest or in earnest. To be
sure, we did not conduct ourselves in a very friendly manner, in
our ascent by the _left_ shore, having killed there eleven people,
and certainly wounded many more. These are the republicans, who would
not recognise King Làkono; they laugh at the threats of the crew,
until Feïzulla Capitan orders his pistols to be brought, so that
he might intimidate them. We shoal again, work ourselves clear, but
cannot reach the other vessels, where Làkono is said to be on board
Selim Capitan’s. It seems that the good king will regain, by our
presence, his authority, which has been considerably diminished by
the withdrawal of the subsidy, or Tulba, over these people on the left
shore, who are to give us, according to his promise, several cows.
I cannot yet recover; but just at this moment, when the vessel
has turned to the north, in the direction of my brother, I resign
myself, with pleasure, to the idea of remaining with Làkono,
learning the language, and collecting the necessary information,
making myself useful in extending the knowledge of economical and
technical sciences, and taking part in their military expeditions,
wherein I should have formed a fearful _avant garde_ with my three
servants, who were of the same inclination as myself, owing merely
to our fire-arms;—and thus to become of the most vital importance
to the next expedition, and to be able to return with it.
Selim Capitan communicated to me, in confidence, that the French
heroes want to visit Mount Korèk, here from the left shore, and
that Arnaud has applied for an escort of ten soldiers. This intended
excursion had been kept secret from me; either I was considered too
weak, as perhaps really was the case or no German witnesses were
wished to oppose, as they very certainly would have done, any future
charlatanry. I had full satisfaction, however, when I recommended,
in presence of Arnaud, a visit to the iron-mines of Korèk as being
perfectly necessary. The crafty Selim Capitan said, that he had spoken
to Suliman Kashef, and that a hundred chosen men, as an escort, were
placed at disposal for this laudable visit. This offer of increased
protection produced a peculiar effect in Arnaud’s countenance,
and he muttered a curse between his teeth, although I declared that
I could not be of the party.
What I said was meant in earnest, for I must have been carried, owing
to the want of beasts of burden; and besides, I did not dare at all
to expose my worthy head to the sun’s rays, because, from having
remained under it, I had still the feeling as if my hair stood erect,
like a conductor of caloric, by every single ray. Mount Korèk will,
therefore, for the present, not be explored by me.
I must take advantage of this opportunity to mention a circumstance
which may explain my not very great friendship for Arnaud,
abstractedly from his general arrogance. Selim Capitan confirmed
what the merchant Olivi had communicated to me in Khartùm. My
fellow-travellers, in order to make themselves secure against
any control, had determined, under the presidency of Vaissière,
_not to mention my worthy name at all in their journals_. But the
honest Vaissière had, at the same time, another plan, which was no
other than to _exclude_ me from the expedition. He himself offered
to provide the biscuit necessary for me and my three servants. This
proposal was the more acceptable to me, because all the baking-ovens
of Khartùm had been taken possession of by the Government, to
provide for the crew of the expedition.
The biscuit arrived safely the day before our departure at my house,
just as Doctor Count de Domine, having returned from Kordofàn,
was present. Without further investigation, I took the contents and
weight to be correct, but my Italian friend thought that Vaissière
was a great “baron fututto,” and opened a sack, from which an
excellent biscuit peeped forth smilingly. This, however, did not
convince him long; I was obliged to order Fadl, who was standing by,
to shake out the bag, and then a peal of laughter resounded on every
side. Only the uppermost part of the sack was laid over with good
biscuit, the lower part being full of spoiled and mouldy ones. The
very same result followed with the other sacks.
Armed with my heavy iron stick, I immediately ran along the side of
the water to the divan of Vaissière, where I found all the Frenchmen
assembled. I said plainly that he wished to force me, by this rascally
deception, to desist from the voyage after one or two days’ further
progress. In conclusion, I called him a slave-dealer, whose cross of
the legion of honour I would tear off; and when he talked of being
an officer, and “honour!” I called him a cowardly rascal. None
of the Europeans spoke a word in his defence; and I was able to
retreat through the numerous attendants, who feared my iron club as
well as the Basha; and I went to the governor, who gave orders that
the needful biscuit should be provided me from the shune.
Once again, before my departure, Vaissière and I stood suddenly,
man to man, on a narrow path by the Blue Nile, where, from fear,
because he had not challenged me, or lest I should push him into
the water, he only stammered out the words, “Wife and children!”
In these countries one must either let oneself be trod under foot,
and be able to turn and cringe, or must step forward, like a man in
his natural state, breast to breast.
_29th January._—Before sunrise we hoist the anchor from the middle
of the river, where we had halted for safety during the night, and set
sail in a northern direction. Some elephant-trees, with thick foliage,
and two villages, are on the left side of the shore, and a shallow
long isle, like all the islands of this region. On the right Mount
Pelenja, as well as an isle, which another larger one immediately
follows. We see two magnificent broad-leaved acacia-trees, to which
several more of these beautiful round-headed trees join on directly,
and habitations right and left. The sun rises behind clouds. We row
E.N.E., and then E. by N. The right shore forms a long durra-field;
in its neighbourhood we get aground, and in spite of every exertion,
remain fixed until half past nine o’clock. The strong north wind
drives our vessel about in all directions, and the tired rowers are no
match for my bold countryman. At half past ten o’clock we arrive,
in an easterly direction, at the shallow island, separated from the
right shore by a narrow arm of the Nile, and lying on a level with
it. This island, planted with durra, is the very same one where King
Làkono first visited us.
We have the other vessels ahead, waiting for us, and we come up to
them at eleven o’clock, with great difficulty; for the men can
display but little vigour at the rope in the water. The negroes of
the right shore pursue us with several bundles of wood, to sell to
us. Feïzulla Capitan is ashamed to make his report, on account of
his long delay, and therefore lies down to sleep. We cast anchor
also in the middle of the river; for we trust the natives no longer,
and fear the wrath of the great Matta.
King Làkono sits on the shore in the centre of his people, who are
standing around him; his favourite wife is also standing, and only
one of his brothers is sitting near him. I now hear that Làkono had
asked Selim Capitan for a musket to shoot the cannibals. The latter
feared that the Tubal Cain of Bari might establish a manufactory of
guns, and then come as a great conqueror to Sennaar, and therefore
flatly refused him. On this account his Majesty is angry, and will
not come on board. I am particularly sorry that he does not take
leave of us, for I had noted down several questions which I should
like to ask him. A drummer close to him is beating very skilfully,
from time to time, on his long wooden kettle-drum, and answers quite
doughtily the roll of one of our drummers. Another is blowing a
wooden trumpet, in which the mouth-piece, or the hole at the upper
end, is like that of a flute. They have also a twisted antelope’s
horn, from which they manage to elicit several notes.
Notwithstanding the violent north wind, we set out again at half-past
one o’clock, without even thinking of a visit of reconciliation to
Làkono. What can the man think of us now? We who have got so many
weapons, spears, bows, and clubs, from his people, and who certainly,
in his eyes, have equally as many guns, do not give him even a single
musket! We row at first, but soon tiring of this work, the vessels are
allowed to drift with the stream, “Allah kerim,” and be tossed by
the wind wherever it may drive them. We therefore knock one against
the other, run towards the shore, and go, to my extreme anger, down
the river with the stern foremost instead of the bow. This does not
seem to Feïzulla Capitan to be any disgrace. To the right shore a
shallow island, partly cultivated, and having, at the extremity of
its foot, a little village. Another, upon which are several cows,
who have only to thank the strong wind that we did not carry away
some of them, stretches far downwards for nearly an hour.
Here I must express my surmise that the natives cultivate cotton,
although not, perhaps, in large quantities. On the island of
Tshanker I had seen already cotton offered for sale, without its
existence being a matter of surprise to me; for I had previously
met with it in the forests on the White Stream, growing wild. I am
in possession even of a specimen of the cotton of this country, and
know now how to explain from what the rahàt is made, which I got
on that island. I was sitting once on the island of Tshanker, and
sketching, when a young woman stationed herself at some distance,
and pointed to her neck, which she wished to adorn with beads. I
presented her with some to look at, and gave her to understand by
dumb-show, that I wanted to have her thread apron for them. When I
stepped nearer, however, to make the thing more intelligible to the
woman, she drew back timidly. I therefore beckoned to Fadl, because
he has more patience, and a darker colour, which must inspire greater
confidence. She was no longer afraid when he came, but stopped and
gave her consent to the sale by signs, although the men standing
in the neighbourhood threatened her by elevating their spears. She
motioned to Fadl to remain where he was, ran away, and soon returned
with a leathern apron, which she had fetched from behind a rock,
whereon men were standing.
Without troubling herself further about their threatening attitudes
and words, she waded, with a true contempt of death, up to her breast
in the water, and came out again with the rahàt in her hand, and
the leathern apron round her loins. She still paid no regard to the
continued threatening motions of the men, but gave the rahàt over
to Fadl, took the few beads, and ran away in the greatest joy. This
rahàt was twisted together very artistically of cotton threads,
shaped, as I have already related, and coloured red with ochre.
Four o’clock. Our course which, judging from the situation of the
mountains, had been north-westerly since half-past one o’clock,
now changes,—without, however, our being able to define it
distinctly. Half-past five o’clock. This is the first moment that
we can say we are going N. by E. These things must be experienced: to
be ill with Turks—to make campaigns and journeys with Turks—and to
undertake a voyage of discovery on the White Stream with such a fleet!
The vessels, according to their different sizes, ran on the sand-bank;
first forwards, then backwards,—now right, now left. To navigate
with the stern foremost is the favourite custom; the sparks of the
fire fall through the open hatchway, before the half-broken door of
the powder-room, and whizz in the water of the lower hold! At last,
by energetic threats, I wake Feïzulla Capitan from his dreadful
apathy. The fire is extinguished, and the stern of the vessel, after a
great deal of talking about the disgrace to a naval officer educated
in England, turned to the proper direction, with the assistance of
the oars.
I saw five large and small islands, but whether they lie nearest
to the right or to the left shore, I know as little as upon what
shore the isolated villages and tokuls stand. It was really enough
to drive one mad to see the sailors so often apply themselves to
the oars when the wind had turned the vessel, which they regard as a
piece of floating wood, towards the mountains. I shall, at last, be
confused myself in such a disgusting hurly-burly. Six o’clock. On
the left, a little island; soon afterwards, on the right, a larger
one, separated from the right shore by a narrow arm. Then a village,
close upon the same shore, pleasingly enlivened by men and cows,
immediately appears. Single trees extend behind it, and give a
picturesque effect to the whole. On the left, our old acquaintance,
Mount Nerkanjin, steps forward again, and surpasses, at least,
considerably in height, the mountains lying nearer. At half-past
six o’clock we go to the N., with small deviations to one side or
the other, and come to three islands, following close behind one
another, along the right shore, and anchor, when it becomes dark,
before seven o’clock, below the last one.
_30th January._—A very strong wind all night; the vessels lying
awkwardly near each other, beat their heads and knock their ribs
together, so that it was quite pleasant to behold it. Every one
slept and snored around me, and I also would not allow myself to
be disturbed any more, and did not wake the capitan; but looked,
however, twice through the open hatchway into the hold, to see if
the water were increasing. This morning there was only one vessel
at the anchorage; all the others were scattered far and wide down
the river. Immediately after sunrise we set out towards N. On the
right a wood extends; on the left, solitary beautiful trees rise;
but few people are to be seen.
Two little islands are at the right shore; the one lying deeper
rises from the water like an elevated green shield. The beautiful
forest of the right side condensates and strengthens; on the left,
also, the trees approach closer together. The country rises here,
and we look far over the left shore into the land, as into an
orchard, with villages. We halt at the shield-island, on the sand,
and look around us for another water-track. With much difficulty we
work through between the green reed island and another one, and land
at our old little isle, where we made the acquaintance of the chief
Nalewadtshòhn on the 22nd January. We had half an hour’s barter;
then we push off, and navigate with the bow of our vessel directed
towards the first of the two islands lying one behind the other, at
the left shore, as if we would have caused there an earthquake. The
vessel turns, and we go now again with the stern forward, as generally
happens upon the Nile, in order to let the vessels drift free from
danger, for the helm then becomes the scenting-nose of the shallows,
and stops also, in fact, on them.
About eight o’clock we halt at the left shore. I get here a harpoon
among other curiosities of the country. Unfortunately, we now hurry
through this beautiful region without taking any further notice of
the land or the people; for the want of sufficient water-course,
and the ignorance of it, drives us to make as much haste as possible
to the friendly Elliàbs, where we intend to stop and caulk the
vessels. I have never remarked persons lying ill, and diseases may be
generally rare among these people of nature; when they do come on,
perhaps they are mostly fatal. At nine o’clock we are off again,
and have, immediately on our right, two little green islands, and
a village on the shore. Another entanglement of vessels, so that it
is a complete disgrace!
The water, pouring out vigorously from a gohr of the right shore,
is muddy, and appears to come from a lake, the water of which is let
off for the sake of catching fish. On the left a green island, with
high reeds; on the right a wood, wherein there are several bare and
withered trees. The land appears here to be quite uncultivated. Our
vessel at last goes again properly, for Selim Capitan, whom the
other vessels are trying to keep in sight, outstrips us by the stroke
of the oars. The reed-island is followed by another one after some
paces. The shores are arid on both sides; we cannot look over them at
the scenery beyond, because the water is considerably lower than when
we ascended. In the middle of the river a narrow island, green with
reeds, behind which, on the right shore, a large village is remarked,
with broad tokuls, as well as herds of cows at the water. These
tokuls are open behind, and the young cattle appear to be penned in
them. Down at the village another island lies, of about a quarter of
an hour in length. On the right and left, scanty wood is developing
itself thickly behind the shores. An islet, of three to four paces
broad, and twelve to fifteen long, has planted itself here boldly
in the river. Either this island is quite new, and will increase
in time, or it is the remains of an old one. Immediately behind,
an elevated green shield floats again towards us. We navigate at
the right shore to N.E., and shall go again soon to N.
The beauty of the country has unfortunately again descended to the
old uniformity, with the horizontal position of the flat country;
before us lies an island like a Delta; it is already partly dry, and
we pass by its left side. But stop! Every one fetches up, and we shall
be obliged perhaps to work over to the right side. Ten o’clock,
N. by E.; we row bravely against the N.E. wind. The shores of the
stream are flat and low; by the sand lying thereon, we see that the
river at its side flows over them. An arid island at the left shore is
divided by a dry gohr. On the right, a village is suddenly disclosed,
with broad tokuls, and negroes expecting treasures. Upon the island,
also, they stride stoutly in close to the ships, but no beads are
handed to them. The men of the oxen-village point to their herds,
but their benevolent offer is in vain.
We remark, as usual, among the light-coloured cows, many quite white,
and few black or dapple. The bulls have the customary high and thick
hump; the cows, on the contrary, have exactly the appearance of those
at Emmerich on the Rhine; their horns are twisted in a surprisingly
handsome form, and set off with flaky hair, as well as the ears. They
carry the latter erect, by which means the head, and the lively eye,
acquire a brisk and intelligent expression. We have an island of
about a quarter of an hour in length at our right; the oars rest in
consequence of a stronger current, and we go N.E. Half past eleven
o’clock. On the left a green island, of the length of half an
hour, before which we again get aground, without our intellectual
commanders being disturbed by it. We stop at the right shore, to make
our midday halt, but Suliman Kashef pushes off again, although he
is the man who takes most care about the distribution of the meat,
and we others follow amidst the murmurs of the crew.
After we had left on our right two islands, we halt at the foot of
the second one, at about three o’clock, with the same intention. The
shallow island is only elevated a little above the level of the water,
of a sandy nature, but full of a species of large and small grass,
conclusive of the splendid pastures of the surrounding country,
of which the herds afford the best proof. We navigate further,
and have immediately a small island on our right. For amusement we
go awhile upon the sand, soon get off again, and have on the left
another island with shallow sand-heads at the side. The whole left
shore lies flat, and makes its appearance beautifully wooded; over
it Mount Nerkanjin, concealed in mist and by the distance, rises
to the west. I take leave of it and of all the mountains, which
are so delightful to my heart, and have contributed so much to my
convalescence by their fresh air, and by bringing before me pictures
of home. We go to the north. A poor little hamlet, surrounded and
shaded by trees, on the left shore. Right and left the vessels squat,
and accident alone makes us take the middle road. At the right,
two small islands, distinguished, as usual here, by nothing except
their succulent grass or reeds. Yet our vessel, proud at the start
already gained, goes smack on the flat left shore, as if Nature did
not shew shallows there to the most inexperienced mariner. One shock,
and—we stick fast. Once more tokuls peep through the trees of the
left shore at some distance; negroes are collecting on the shore.
We are navigating through a tract of countries, touching whose
original formation and populations we exhaust ourselves in fruitless
conjectures. Monuments do not tell us, history is silent, and the
annals of the people live only in meagre traditions, which may
possibly extend to two or three generations. We could not learn
any thing even of these, and the past is repeated in a perpetual
present. We throw a sorrowful glance at the youth of these nations,
and do not understand how it happens that a people could always
remain _young_.
The other vessels pass us, whilst we are calling, “Eh lissa!”
Most of the men are only seemingly exerting themselves in the water,
to hoist the vessel, without answering the Abu Hashis passing by
and mocking at us. The natives must love the shade, for they remain
with their wives under the trees. The shaven heads, and mostly
turned in noses of the latter seem to do homage to the principle of
beauty being in man. If this decided type of the feminine formation
of countenance afford the plastic proof of the primitive natural
distinction of the sexes, then not woman, but man, stands here as the
master-piece of Nature, similar to what is generally the case in the
animal creation. Woman is the weaker being in such a state of nature
as this,—the beast of burden, in whom the germ for the improvement
of the character is suppressed, though it must be considered as her
inalienable birthright.
After a quarter of an hour, we work ourselves off, and row, as
fast as our bodies, dripping with perspiration, will allow us,
in order to gain a deeper water-course. On the left we notice a
forest-hamlet, and on the right an island, which is a quarter of
an hour in length. Another island ends, the upper part of which I
had not remarked. A long bright water-basin, from the back ground
of which two little islands, like green hills, cheerfully look up,
stretches before us in N.N.E. The negroes dance and jump no more; they
stand melancholy on the shore, because they lose their glass-bead men.
Half-past three o’clock. After the lapse of some minutes we
navigate through a narrow canal, and leave the broad water on our
right behind the island close to us. At the end of this island we
first drive furiously against the shore, and then against another
vessel, so that there is cracking and breaking aloft, and a flood
of curses discharged. The men jump into the water, bawl, and make
a row on all sides, to push the vessels off the sand. We get loose,
have an island immediately before us, and try to go into the narrow
arm, which separates it from the right shore. The island is covered
over and over with luxuriant creeping beans, and is half an hour
long. Some of the vessels try their luck on the other side of the
island. A number of goats and sheep are pasturing there, and among
the latter, rams with horns twisted back, and manes. We keep the
main direction of the river, N.N.E., but there is neither direction
nor order among the vessels, “Allah kerim!”
A beautiful verdant island below seems to wish to block up our
road. Suddenly a second island appears at our side, separated from the
former one by only fifty paces of water. We stop at it, because most
of the vessels have taken the deceptive broad path, and got upon the
sand. The current is strong here, and amounts to two miles. Although
our men are at home on the Nile, yet they have no idea at all that
where there are precipitous broken shores, and where the shoot of the
water falls, there, on the average, the greater depth is to be found.
Suliman Kashef’s beautiful slave has hitherto not yet come out
of her narrow back cabin, often as I have begged him to let her. O
thou land of the East and jealousy! An unexpected emancipation of
the eastern wives and maidens would give an extremely surprising
result, judging from analogy with all the circumstances occurring
in the hárims, notwithstanding the trifling grade of cultivation,
in which these beautiful domestic animals stand, and their quaint
notions of the _honestum atque decorum_.
Four o’clock.—The last island, where we stopped only a short
time, and repaired in some measure our broken helm, is immediately
followed by two islands, lying close to one another, the nearest of
which extends a long way. It is covered with much larger tobacco
plantations than we have been accustomed hitherto to see. A hedge
defends it against the beasts of the water, and over the young plants
reed-roofs have been placed to protect them against the heat of
the sun. But what we had not hitherto seen, is a little watchhouse
raised on stakes, from which the field-guard peeps out;—a police
establishment, which might be placed here more on account of human
beings than of beasts.
We leave those islands, as well as the two small reed-islands
previously named, together with the broad water at the left, for
another island of an hour in length joins on to the latter one,
and promises a deeper water-course. The steeply broken shores
of these islands, like those of the right side of the river, are
stratified in horizontal layers, which consist of mould, sand, and a
reddish-coloured substratum of iron-ochre. We go here with the right
shore to E. A broad gohr comes into the river from the right side:
therefore, what I just now called a right shore, is taken for a large
island, the head of which, however, no one pretends to have seen. At
last, we again advance, although not for any length of time, in a
bed of the stream destitute of islands, and from pure magnanimity
we order the oars to rest, so as not to stave in the ribs of another
vessel. On the right, a village and some scattered tokuls under the
trees. We make a bend to N.N.E. The right shore is thickly covered
with trees, but there appears to be little shade there except under
the solitary trees having broad boughs. On the left shore are seen,
on the contrary, few trees, and the real forest may be further up
the country.
Six villages are observed from the deck on the right, and three
villages on the left shore. Before us, to N.E., rises a small
mountain, to which we perhaps shall approach still closer, for it was
not remarked previously in our ascent. On the shore, we have right
and left a village; at the left side two more villages immediately
follow. From the deck we see here seven other villages; to the right,
in the forest, a large village, and closer to us a small one on the
shore, whilst on the left again, other tokul-tops peep forth beyond
the shore. Solitary huts are scattered on all sides, and the country
seems to be extraordinarily populous. Nevertheless, we remark very
few people; the others may be employed somewhere in the interior
harvesting, catching fish, or elephant-hunting; or state affairs,
perhaps, keep them back.
Five o’clock.—To N. On the left a little hamlet, with tokul-roofs,
which stand on short stakes, and may be used perhaps only for the
cattle during the rainy season. The small tokuls raised on stakes
serve partly as sleeping-places, partly as store-houses; these are
seen in every village on the White River. Half-past five o’clock. At
the left we see the end of an island, which must be very large,
for it goes up, at least, to the last-named island, and may run
behind it to the left shore. On the left there are three villages,
but the trees have entirely disappeared. On the right five villages,
and then a large and small island; behind them a sixth village. The
river makes a beautiful bend at this place from N.N.E. to N. Splendid
large shady trees stand out like giants over the other part of the
forest, and from deck we perceive a hamlet under them, and also two
villages at some distance from the left shore. The Haba, properly
speaking, displays itself here of a blue colour in the distance,
extending from W. to N., whither we let ourselves be drifted also
by the tranquil river.
A large herd of cows comes down to drink at the stream, but we pass
proudly by, and the Arabian children do not murmur because they are
going to their dear home.
The report that the nations below had blocked up the river to cut
off our retreat, having turned out unfounded, may likewise have
contributed to this unusual contentment. I remarked evidently how
glad they were that no crowds of natives were collected at the
numerous villages, near which we were so often beneaped. On the
right, the end of an island displays itself; this, at all events,
therefore extends behind the upper island of the right shore. Over
two little islands we see, on the right side, the tops of several
tokuls. At sunset we go from N.N.W., in another bend to E. A long
water-line spreads before us, whilst the river bends to right and
left; we accommodate ourselves again slowly to rowing.
Half-past six o’clock. At both sides two long islands end,
their commencement having been concealed from us by others. Near
the pastoral village, on the left side, we hear the cattle and
sheep returning home, and see the smoke widely extended, as a
protection against the gnats, for their nightly rest. That is much
too inviting! Near a small green island, in the centre of the stream,
which spreads here majestically like a lake, we cast anchor, and
the vessel turns its bow towards the west, to Mount Nerkanjin, the
outlines of which stand out only faintly from the darkening sky. It
is a lovely evening.
CHAPTER V.
RIVER BUFFALOES. — COMICAL APPEARANCE OF THE NATIVES. —
WILLOWS. — SPECIES OF STRAND-SNIPES. — MODESTY OF THE WOMEN,
AND THEIR APRONS. — THE LIÈNNS. — ORNAMENTS OF THIS TRIBE:
THEIR TOKULS. — THE SERIBA OR ENCLOSURE TO THE HUTS. — ENORMOUS
ELEPHANT’S TOOTH. — LUXURIANCE OF THE SOIL. — THE COUNTRY
OF BAMBER. — DESCRIPTION OF THE NATIVES. — MANNER OF CATCHING
ELEPHANTS. — ROYAL CRANES. — SPLENDID BARTER. — TRIBE OF THE
BUKOS. — STOICISM OF AN OLD NATIVE. — SLAVES. — HIPPOPOTAMI
AND CROCODILES. — THE TSHIÈRRS. — THE ELLIÀBS AND BÒHRS. —
DESCRIPTION OF THE FORMER TRIBE: THEIR WAR-DANCE.
31st January.—Before sunrise we set out, and had 20° Reaumur;
yesterday and the day before, 19°. We had scarcely advanced three
paces, when we stuck fast on the sand, because the crew wanted to
let themselves be drifted at their ease. We therefore row out of the
lake-like bay to N.N.E. Men and women stand smoking on the shore,
and offer their pipes and other effects, but all their signs and
calling are in vain, and the fear is general that the river may be
too shallow. The stream issues broadly from the left side behind
an island, to which a smaller one joins itself. Eight hippopotami
are enjoying themselves in the space between the two islands. Their
enormous heads have the closest similarity, at some distance, to
those of buffaloes, only they are larger, and have no horns, and
therefore the Arabic expression Gamùss el Bah’r (river buffalo)
appears more suitable than that of hippopotamus. The name of G’zint
is little used here, although it may be the ancient indigenous one.
Whilst we are going at half-past six o’clock, N.N.W., we observe
on the right, also, a Nile arm to N.E. On the left a summer village,
and sleeping places, with reed walls, and small tokuls, running
quite to a point, and funnel-shaped, with plastered walls. On the
right, two hamlets, and on the left a reed islet; before it a broad
arm enters the land to W., and seems to form a large island, for we
go here N. by E. The stream, which had narrowed previously to four
hundred paces, loses little of its breadth by these means. Before us
floats again a green little reed-island; we leave it at our right. The
forest has again retreated, and on the left, also, there is nothing
seen above the ground, except here and there the top of a tree. The
shores are arid, and very refreshing is the large tree on the right,
with its horizontally twisted boughs, like an isolated gigantic oak,
behind which the house-tops of a large village peep forth.
A number of ash-grey men set themselves to race us on the right
shore from a little village; they fife, sing, and clap their hands,
dance and jump, especially the young ones. On the left also the flat
sand-shore is covered with ash-grey people. The song on both shores
is kept up in the very same tune and time, which they alternate
by strophes. There are hardly any weapons and ornaments to be seen
on these men. Cleanliness, the red colour of the skin, and luxury,
seem to disappear with the neighbourhood of the Sultan’s palace.
Half-past seven o’clock. N.N.W. We have a beautiful river-path
before us, winding towards N. Eight o’clock. An island at the left
shore, the land arm of which is mostly dry. We circumnavigate this
with the river, N.E. to N.N.W. When we came near to the natives,
we found that they had tried the water a little; now, therefore,
they dance and jump in long shining black boots and breeches,
and grey close jerkins. Such was their appearance, and one really
could not help laughing. Tokul-tops and a hamlet on the right shore;
on the left a small island.
Half-past eight o’clock. At the left side the beginning and end
of two islands, with a beautiful margin of reeds, and blooming
creepers. We go N.W.; a broad arm of the Nile in the right shore to
N. by E.; a large lake far towards the trees to S.E., and another
one equally large and distant, to the right of the Nile-arm to E. The
lakes are only visible from the masts. Behind an island on the left,
a cattle village, with numerous herds.
Nine o’clock. From N. to N.W. A large crowd of women are singing,
clapping their hands, jumping and shouting a bacchanalian huzza, as
if they would make our acquaintance with might and main. A splendid
shady group of trees, and a large tokul village, wherein they now
may play the master, is in their vicinity. We land at the foot of the
last-named island. I repair to Selim Capitan, to gather information
through the Tershomàn.
Ten o’clock. N. by E. On the left a broad gohr swerves to W., and
is said to issue again among the Elliàbs. I remarked on the shore
a kind of willow I had never yet seen, which is altogether similar
to our Rhine willows. The reïs hugged the shore, to please me, but
even the last copse slipped through my fingers, without my being
able to cut off a branch. The forest of the right shore promises
not only variety from a distance, but also cooling shade.
Half-past ten o’clock. The river flows N.E.; on the right is a
large village, near which we wind N.W.; then soon N.N.W.
On the right, herds and huzzaing, and singing negroes. The south-east
wind freshens a little, just as we go N.W.; but we dare not sail,
on account of the numerous shallows: and for that reason also,
the mainmasts of all the larger vessels were taken down at the
commencement of our return voyage. In calm weather the sails were
spread over these masts, laid horizontally to protect the crew
from the sun. Selim Capitan knows what the men are able to endure,
and therefore commands repeatedly “Alma!” (rest); connecting
it, perhaps, with calm; whereupon the rowers discontinue their
labour. “Alma” means, besides, in the Aggem language in Taka,
“water;” as also among the Bishari and Shukuriës. We go N.E.,
and then N., and round a green reed-island to S.W., but soon again
to N. On the left shore, a part of the new Haba suddenly discloses
itself; we go a short tract E.N.E., and at half-past eleven o’clock
to N. The head and foot of two islands, one close behind the other,
are at the right side. I see again the first _Zigzag_ and _Sammi_,
two species of strand-snipes. The latter are called by the Franks
Dominicans; in Mahass and Dongola, Begha and Kegla. They make the
sportsman very angry, because they announce danger to the other
feathered tribe by their loud outcry.
Twelve o’clock. N.E. by E. On the left an island, and soon
afterwards, when we are navigating N.N.E., another on the right;
and some tokuls, with dancing women, on the shore of the downs. We
stick fast on the dry ground for a quarter of an hour, and have,
at half-past twelve o’clock, two islands on the left, close to
one another, with the usual green border of reeds. This side rises
like a hill, in the manner of downs, even to between the trees. We
only see the end of these islands. Water fixes here animal life, and
human population may spread far away from the main stream, generally
on the White River, which may be considered as shoreless. We go
round a sand-head of the right shore from N.E. to E., and at a
quarter before one o’clock to S. On the right an island, and on
the shore a village; on the left several people. With a short bend
we have come to the N.; go, at half-past one o’clock, to E., and
immediately left to N.E. At two o’clock E., and at half-past two
N. A sand-bank here protrudes itself half into the river from the
left shore. A summer village, with a large tree, stands behind.
On the sand-bank some pretty young girls had collected, and a
number of poor Ethiopians, highly delighted at our arrival. They
sing, throw themselves on their knees, spring up again in the air,
and stretch their hands imploringly towards us. Selim Capitan is
easily persuaded to stop a short time, and to distribute some of the
usual glass beads. The unaproned damsels, who could entreat in so
friendly a manner, and point to their neck and wrists, ran, however,
away immediately, when we wanted to give into their own hands some
strings with glass beads. There appears to me to be no doubt that
there is a certain separation of the sexes; for these girls, part
of whom were marriageable, kept aloof at some distance from the men:
this also, shortly before, was the case with the married women. The
latter appeared here and there together with the men; but there were
always very few of them, and it might therefore be considered the
exception to the general rule. Opposite to the sand-bank an arm of
the Nile enters E.N.E. far into the land of the right side of the
river. We row to N., but soon to E., N.E., and N.
Three o’clock. We leave, about N.W., the broader river separated
from us by two islands lying close to one another, and have on the
right the large island, or island-land, near which the arm of the
Nile enters in an easterly direction. We follow this arm N.E. and
N., and the island, at its entrance, has immediately an end here. A
summer pastoral village is at the right on the shore of this large
so-called gohr. A quarter after three o’clock. Again from N.E. to
N. Several women stand on the right shore near a simsim-field; they
wear behind them a large piece of leather, like a miner’s apron,
which may serve them, when they sit down, as a cushion. The rahàt
in front of them is not larger than a hand. Their shrill cry of
exultation sounds almost the same as that of the women of Khartùm and
Kàhira. At half past three o’clock, on the right two farm-yards,
surrounded regularly in the square with palisadoes; beautiful verdant
young trees are standing by them. The forest seems to have vanished
on all sides. From N. we come gradually to N.E., and go now N.W.,
where the river makes a splendid bend to the N. A village lies a
little up the country on the right side, and an island ends by it.
Everywhere we notice watchhouses among the produce of the fields
or tobacco-plants. They consist of four stakes, with a scaffold,
and over it a flat straw roof clogged with earth, such as is seen
also in the land of Sudàn. If these little watchhouses are not
erected against thieves or beasts,—the former I believe to be
the case on account of the abominable suspicion of the people in
barter,—they may be a shelter for the labourers when carrying on
the irrigation. The black gentlemen had bent reeds, which had grown
crooked, for their tobacco-pipes. In order to express their joy, they
jump like goats, with closed legs, swinging at the same time their
arms. When old men singly try these leaps, as I saw done previously
by a sheikh of the Ababdes, when we called him an old man (aguhs),
it looks extremely ridiculous; but it is abominable and disgusting
when old women, with their flabby breasts flying up and down, make
such jumps of joy. A very narrow canal leads either to a lake or
low ground, or it may form a tributary arm and an island at the right.
The water here is still as clear and well-tasted as above near the
mountains: sand has much to do with this. We do not remark, either,
any stagnant water, standing in connexion with the stream, as further
downwards. The thermometer has got up to 30°. Four o’clock,
E.N.E. Several singing negroes on the right shore. Immediately
N.N.E., a quarter of an hour later N. and N.W., but soon in a short
bend to N.N.E. The river is about two hundred paces broad. Half past
four o’clock. From N.N.E. to ——, we bring up first,—N.E. by
E. for a short tract; with a short bend after a quarter of an hour
N.W. A powerful Nile buffalo, looked upon with astonishment, even by
the sailors themselves, being a gigantic animal, plays before us in
the water, and induces the two engineers to leave for a moment their
cloister system; usually they have their windows hung with curtains,
and never let themselves be seen at all outside the door. Five
o’clock. From N.W. to N.E., where a beautiful water-road extends
before us, closed below by a green island. On the right a broad
Nile-arm comes from S.E., and discharges itself to S.; it seems,
therefore, to encircle a large and broad island. A number of people
have collected there. The river is quite calm, unmoved by a breath of
air; no oar is striking its polished surface: we sail with unruffled
temper, protected against the rays of the sun, under the covering
of the denda (ship’s tent, perhaps from the Italian _tenda_). A
surprising swarm of black-coloured people accompanies us along the
shore. We see how they wonder at our vessels, without comprehending
how such a mighty machine could have originated from a sürtuk,
or hewn-out trunk of a tree. The invention of their ancestors has
remained here in its natural first foundation, for their necessities
give no impulse to the improvement of these boats, which may have
been even in use, in this part of Africa, before they were on the
Rhine, the Danube, and the Thames.
The nation of the Liènns is already in possession of this
country. The Liènns have the same language as the inhabitants of
Bari; but they know also that of the Dinka nation, or the dialect
of the Dinkas, which alters down the river, if such deviations have
not been carried down with the features of the people. They stand in
friendly relations with Bari, and do not pay tribute to King Làkono,
as I heard plainly from Selim Capitan’s interpreter. Notwithstanding
that their forehead is covered with points in horizontal lines,
they seem to be of the same origin as the tribes of Bari. The
Tershomàn Gùmberi, who gave himself out previously for a Tshièrr,
pretends here suddenly to be a Liènn, and wants to go ashore with
his treasures. He had accompanied us through the country of Bari,
and appeared also to be known there. It seems to me that he has
commercial speculations in his head, and fears that we might take from
him again his beads. We induce him, however, to remain still with us,
because he is very clever in his way. Half past five o’clock. On
the right a village, with good tokuls, and the green island long
seen by us. A city called Djàr follows soon after. Another island
ends before the village, separated from it by a narrow gohr. A third
village lies further down the river; to the left shore an island
with a green head, near which we stop at sunset, for we see on the
shore a large herd of cattle.
_1st February._—It was with difficulty that I purchased a national
bracelet of ivory, for these ornaments are as if grown to the
people. Such bracelets are light, two to three fingers broad, and
fluted, these stripes being coloured black. Small tortoise-shells
are worn very commonly here, as in Bari, on the neck or arm. At
eight o’clock we leave the island, go N. by E., and see upon it
several scattered farm-yards with cultivation.
An island of three-quarters of an hour long was at our right. The east
wind is tolerably brisk: we soon take to our oars, and I imagine we
make in this manner three sea-miles in the hour. This pace stands as
the rule with Selim Capitan, when the wind is not contrary. Before
us we perceive a forest, which extends over the horizon on the left
shore. The latter is planted far and wide with lubien, or small white
and variegated beans; so is also the small island of a quarter of
an hour in length, lying at our right. Nine o’clock. From E. by
N., to N.E., and N. by E. On the left side of the river, where we
remark a village up the country, an arm of the Nile goes N.N.W.,
and forms a reed-island.
Owing to the laziness of the sailors, the east wind drives us into
this canal on the sand, from which we get off again at half-past nine
o’clock; a small island, with a border of green creeping flowers,
is at our right. A large village is seen on the left, with large and
small well-covered tokuls. On the large ones the roof reaches nearly
to the ground, and rests upon stakes; behind this circular portico,
we see the plastered walls of the habitation properly speaking. The
small tokuls have higher walls, but not this lengthening of the roof,
supported on stakes, and which we saw also in Bari. Behind the small
flower island, a city or large village rises on the right shore.
We go N. by E., and remark on the left side two other large villages
quite in the neighbourhood of the preceding one. The forest of the
right shore has again approached; a small green vegetable island being
separated from it by a narrow arm; some hundreds of paces further
another small island, which, besides scanty reeds, is thickly covered
at the upper end with vegetables of various kinds, whilst species
of couch-grass and creeping water-plants are floating round by the
shores. Beyond it we see three villages lying on the margin of the
river, really romantically, before and between the trees. On the left
shore two neat farmyards shew themselves in a shining seriba of reeds,
the stalks of which are connected very regularly with each other, but
perhaps only afford resistance to tame animals. All these villages
were surrounded, however, with a stronger enclosure of thorn-like
shrubs, as a defence against wild beasts and naked men. A large
thorn-bush supplies the place of a door, and cannot well be seized
and pulled out from the outside, as it is drawn and squeezed into
the door posts with its lower end. Such a seriba is common in the
whole land of Sudàn; the before-mentioned reed-walls are likewise
very general, and attract immediately the curious eye. The tokuls
have, in part, a roof protruding in the middle with a wavy form,
like also some previously seen, but the latter had low walls. A
number of negroes have collected, without weapons or ornaments,
and shining black, for they have passed through water.
Half-past 10 o’clock, N.N.W. In the middle of the river an island
a quarter of an hour in length, covered with lubiën. A city with
tokuls packed close together on the right shore, a village being
opposite. Another large village is united to the city, which reaches
over the island; its tokuls are mostly surrounded with reed-walls,
and probably the women are shut up in them. A beautiful tree with
wide-spreading branches rises between these two cities, and may
serve them for their place of meeting.
Eleven o’clock, N. We leave to our left an island of an hour in
length, elevated only three feet above water-mark, covered at its
head with reeds, vegetables, durra, and lubiën. The shores are
planted right and left. We stuck nearly fast by the large city;
and now we have the _trinchetta_ or foresail as leader, so that we
may navigate on the sand more splendidly. The forest emerges on the
left shore, and solitary beautiful trees stand on the margin of the
river, between which an island grown over with reeds, of a quarter of
an hour in length, is situated. In the space of ten minutes another
one follows. The vessels halt at the shore to wait for Selim Capitan
and the other vessels navigating on the sand. We lie to at the left
shore, and the order to wash the vessels is also complied with by us.
Fadl and Sale had already gone from the ship on a hunting excursion,
though I had no idea that they would do so while the vessels were
advancing. I looked about anxiously from the deck, when a sailor
shouted to me from the mast that he saw them at a distance. It was
not long before I heard them shooting, and they came to the right
shore with a large elephant’s tooth on their shoulders. I had them
fetched off in the sandal, and then found the length of this tooth
to be eight feet and a half. It was unfortunately a little decayed,
but yet one of the largest we had on the vessels, for the larger
ones were generally from seven to seven feet and a half long. It
had served also as a stake to tie oxen to, and was purchased for a
few large glass beads.
We set out at half-past two o’clock, but the east wind drives
us back to the left shore. The land here is principally cultivated
with simsim and lubëin. Watchhouses, scarecrows, old baskets, and
skins stuck upon poles, are paraded about in the fields. Everything
is standing green and beautiful. It is impossible that the natives
can water these large fields by hand, as I saw by the small tobacco
plantations. In vain, however, I looked about for regular irrigation
canals, by which they conducted the water from the river to gush
over the land, in the manner usual in Egypt and Nubia, from the
simplest contrivances up to the chain of buckets drawn by oxen;
for water-wheels or saghiën cease with the Arab tribes on the White
Stream. The clayey fruitful soil must therefore be able to retain,
for a long time, the moisture remaining after the inundation, and
the strong nocturnal deposits may preserve the fruits fresh; the
more so, because the sun, owing to the abundance of thick plants,
cannot scorch the ground.
The creeping beans seem to have the power especially of attracting
to themselves atmospheric moisture; I saw them often, on quite
arid soil, where everything else was already dried up, spreading
from one root up to twenty paces distant in the most luxuriant dark
green foliage. It was only with caution that one dare raise these
long tendrils, to seek the slender long pods, for animals liking
moisture—such as snakes and loathsome reptiles—take up their
abode under them. Soon we push off again from the shore and go to
N.N.E. On the left an island, which is cultivated towards its lower
end, whilst the reeds are wisely allowed to stand at the upper end,
on account of the pressure of water. Near the pastoral village in the
neighbourhood a large tree rises. Our men believe that veneration
is paid to trees standing isolated. Another small island, covered
with grass and reeds, obeys still the element from which it rose.
The shores of the river are generally green, and enjoy the cultivation
of the human hand. The land extends flat on the right, encircled by
the Habas: four villages lie in it, and the village on the shore is
really large. On the left, a small and pretty river-meadow with a
tokul and watchhouses; we make a strong bend to N.N.W., and here ends
on the left the former island, above half an hour in length. A fifth
village joins the four others; the solitary farm-houses are surrounded
with hedges of light reeds, as also the farm-yards, wherein a few
tokuls lie together. The latter, perhaps, as generally in the land
of Sudàn, harbour an increasing family, and increase with it till
they become a large settlement, where the head of the family has the
precedence according to the rights of primogeniture; this we find
also in King Làkono’s dominions. Though harvest has taken place
on the right shore, we see on the left nothing but green cultivation.
Three o’clock. We land below this Ethiopian pentapolis on the
right shore. Here, therefore, the bairàm-el-kebir will be probably
solemnised. Unfortunately I do not see a tree under the shade of
which I could seat myself, but interesting purchases of the national
curiosities may be made. My speculation in elephants’-teeth is
considerable, and a kind of mercantile rage comes over me for the
first time in my life, when I think how I shall surprise my dear
brother in Khartùm, as we are drinking the first glass of wine
together in the divàn, and my three faithful Baràbras, covered with
the weapons and ornaments of the people of these countries, march in
through the bye-door and lay the whole booty at our feet. We are here
in the country of Bamber, and the large village city bears the name of
Berize. Here Gùmberi, our interpreter, is really at home: I see how
his relations shake hands with him and press him in their arms. His
countrymen have generally, but not always, these single tattooed
prominences or points upon the forehead, which reach in six or eight
lines crossways to the temples. The natives are, on the average,
of considerable height, although we find among them men of moderate
size, but they are destitute of the muscular structure of limbs of
the highlanders, and are much more slimly built: the formation of the
face and the language is, however, similar to those above. They are
dirty, and may be called _poor_, in respect to their ornaments and
weapons, compared with the people of the highlands of Bari. The ivory
bracelets we find dearer here than anywhere else; the interpreter,
who has left on board the greatest part of his beads for temporary
safe-keeping, may have enlightened them on the value of our ornaments,
in order to remain the safer in possession of his own treasures.
They produce their iron weapons from Bari, and seem not to wish
to sell them at all. This deserves all praise, and shews that they
reflect; for being a small nation they ought always to be ready for
combat. The forest behind the wide-extended durra-stubble consists
of melancholy geïlid trees on dry and sandy soil. The men bring
wood, every one a little log: a couple of small beads are given to
each. They are contented, like children; but they manage to steal our
purchased wood and sell it to us a second time. My servants tell me
that they have found a deep pit covered at the top lightly with straw,
in which elephants are caught. A barking dog was fastened to a corner
of it. The latter is a huntsman’s whistle to entice the elephants
who may chance to be curious. This manner of catching elephants is
common throughout all the land of Sudàn, especially in Fàzogl. We
were not a little afraid formerly in Taka of falling, during our
nocturnal marches, with our horses, into these elephant-pits, as
frequently happens in the Chasuas. In truth the people in Taka seem
to stand on friendly terms with elephants, and to leave the hunting
of them to the mountain people of that country, although Sauachinn
(Sauakim) on the Red Sea is the staple town of ivory, from whence
it goes to India, and afterwards to Europe.
_2nd of February._—To-day is the great Bairam feast. The rising sun
is greeted with twenty-one cannon-shots: all the people run away, and
do not return till after all the guns had been discharged. I learned
from Feïzulla Capitan the formula of the usual congratulation:
“Bairam Sheriff ma berèk,” and set off with it to the two
commanders. The Egyptians could not belie, on this opportunity, their
innate Bakshish mania, and came one after the other for drink-money.
Arnaud is so ill that he cannot leave his vessel, and raves
incessantly. With the exception of some small elephants’ teeth,
I only acquire, notwithstanding Fadl’s activity, a few ivory
bracelets and iron buckles, with an oblong plate. Although Selim
Capitan yesterday, at the request of Gùmberi, who petitioned for his
countrymen, distributed some cups, with the usual sug-sug, among the
people, and also presented strings of beads to certain individuals,
yet they only brought us to-day, at last, _one_ ox. Gùmberi seemed
not to possess the proper influence with his friends, and, moreover,
to have excited the envy of a chief; for he had only fetched away,
at night, from Selim Capitan, his glass treasures, under the promise
of several paschal lambs. We set out at half-past eleven o’clock
at noon from Berize, and leave on the right a reed-island, of the
length of half an hour, the lower part of which is covered with
lubiën. N.W. by W. Both shores are cultivated. At one o’clock a
large village on the right; opposite, another one, with open tokuls,
and a strong palisado-kind of enclosure, seemingly as a protection
against wild beasts, if not against men themselves; for this is a
station of herds. N.E. by N., and a quarter after one o’clock to
N. Near the large village three others are in a line, on the right
side of the river, the last numbering about a hundred and fifty
tokuls. The walls of the magazines, being raised on stakes, are
wattled like baskets, and then besmeared with clay; the tokuls for the
cattle, which also stand separately here, are protected by a strong
seriba of trunks of trees and thorns; whilst around the habitations
of human beings there are hedges of reeds, partly smooth. Opposite,
at a little distance from the left shore, another village. To judge
from the shores, beans here appear to afford a principal means
of nourishment. Half-past one o’clock. From N.N.E. to W. by N.,
and then N.N.W. Solitary tokuls, near which the beans occupy entire
plains. From N.N.W. immediately again W. Some hundreds of royal cranes
perched here quite gorgeously on a sand-bank; they were right not to
keep their position, for I had raised the “longue carabine,” as
my brother used to call our long Turkish gun. A quarter before two
o’clock, N.W. From the deck we see four villages to the right,
and one to the left.
Before us we have the obtuse corner of an island, which has from here
considerable extension. Large herds of cows and villages are scattered
upon it. Away over the end of this island we see, on the right side
of the river, three more villages. In consequence of the shallows,
we leave the right arm of the Nile and make for the left shore before
the broad island, going again aback. Close to the nearest village,
on the large island, a number of blacks have collected.
The leader of the chorus leads the choir, and the multitude answers
with fearful vigour. A troop of _élites_, assembled before the
crowd, run in close column backwards and forwards,—their leader
at their head, commanding them, and holding a pole, on the top
of which an animal’s tail was fastened, clearly in order to
give us a warlike representation. But they bring several heads of
cattle to the shore. These are reasonable men: we have, in truth,
no meat, and the sailors crack the rough lubiën-pods and the
durra-stalks like sugar-canes. Real garden warblers are these Arabs,
and all the blacks. Selim Capitan has already reached the island,
whilst we remain fixed on the sand until I wake up the captain. I
hear the sailors gasping forth “eh lissa,” but I know this
simulating of extreme exertion, when each man trusts to the other
one working. At half-past two o’clock we pushed on through the
left arm of the Nile over to the island, where there was a great
huzzaing and joy on the vessels touching land. Again they brought
three oxen, and a splendid barter took place. Besides fowls, goats,
and sheep, they bring a quantity of elephants’ teeth, panthers’,
leopards’ and monkeys’ skins, little stools, iron buckles, ivory
bracelets, weapons, lubiën, small water-melons, woollen war-caps,
iron necklaces, strings twisted together of little shining black
fruits, fixed like beads, &c. The people are very friendly, and
willing to oblige, and I might say, more cultivated than those
of Bari. We are on the large island called after the name of the
neighbouring great village Buko. The latter contains more than five
hundred tokuls. I hear, to my astonishment, that the nation here is
not called Bamber, but Buko, and that the tribe of the Bambers has
its boundaries before this island, and is only a small race, like
the Korreji, or Korreschi, who are said to dwell above the Bambers,
and may have originated from Mount Korreji in Barì. It seems that
these Bukos are of one race with the Bambers, Tshièrrs, and Liènns,
for they have generally their foreheads dotted. The formation of the
face, and other physical qualities—the large and moderate stature,
also speak in favour of a common origin and subsequent separation.
The arm of the Nile wherein we lie, and which we shall navigate, is
called Kirboli; the right and narrow arm on the other side of the
island, towards N., Kirti. Selim Capitan requests me to accompany
him to the Kirti. We went down it in the sandal for the distance
of half an hour, and found its breadth to be seventy-five metres,
by the assistance of the rope which was drawn across it through one
of the plundered sürtuks. As far as we can see, this arm goes, with
slight declinations to E. and W., entirely to N., which direction
the natives also gave. According to this it would be our nearest
road, but its water is unknown, and it is not thought safe to let
the lighter vessels take this short cut.
With respect to this little track, it had a depth, at the
commencement, of two, immediately afterwards of two and a half, and,
at the end of our excursion, of three and a quarter fathoms. We
returned about evening by land,—painful enough for Sabatier
and myself, who are just convalescent,—and passed by nine small
villages, or groups of tokuls, which I had taken, at our anchorage,
for three villages, and then had counted thirteen. The surface of
the earth is an excellent humus on this side, and the little fields
were trenched with furrows for irrigation, and on which, among other
things, we found water-melons. On the extensive plain of the island we
do not observe a tree, except some small ones, near our vessels, and a
large one behind the city of Buko. From a distance we saw the natives
harpooning fish, which they brought soon for sale to us. But here,
also, we found, in general, an intolerable and abominable mistrust.
_3rd February._—The natives have generally few ornaments, weapons,
and other effects; and little, therefore, could I acquire in this
respect. Yet I did a good business in ivory, and I please myself at
the idea of how you, my dear brother, will stare, though far,—far
are we yet asunder.
An old man, having two thick ivory rings, of a hand’s breadth,
on the upper part of each arm, and leathern strings round his neck,
will have nothing to do with selling or the new glass trade. He
regards the glass beads with a certain air of contempt,—won’t have
them, even gratis, and looks disdainfully at the childish passion of
his nation. I see him now from the vessel, quietly sitting under a
little tree, and smoking his pipe, without troubling himself to come
nearer to us. He smoked, as is frequently seen on the White Stream,
_charcoal_, from want of tobacco—called here also tabak—a thing
which none of us could imitate. When I gave him tobacco, he became at
once quite friendly, knocked the charcoal out of his pipe, filled it,
took down the little tongs, to which there was a shovel attached,
from the pipe-tube, and laid a coal upon it.
Unfortunately, what we had been already told in Bari about the
traffic in slaves, was confirmed here. Las Casas,[6] who effected
the freedom of the Indians, transplanted therefore an abuse only
from one quarter of the globe to the other, without considering its
results. In the mutual wars here, the prisoners, like those of the
Greeks, Romans, and ancient Germans, are made slaves. Yet, perhaps,
among these people they are redeemed by paying a certain number of
cattle. Men-hunts, properly speaking, do not seem to take place,
and their wars consist only in the reciprocal plunder of herds,
and the revenge thereby occasioned, when they may seize on human
beings as an equivalent for their pillaged property.
Cattle are here of considerable value, and this may arise from the
great population, which therefore does not despise meat. A slave
costs _an ox_, or _six iron bracelets_, which are not thicker than a
little finger. It is Sultan Làkono who takes their slaves from them,
giving iron in return; and as in the land of Sudàn, golden okiën
serve instead of coined money, so here rings are used for the same
purpose. It may be also a kind of policy in this king paying only in
rings, and not in weapons, by the possession of which his neighbours
might become dangerous to him. Làkono comes to this place every
year, with several large sürtuks, and winds up this business in
person. He requires these slaves for labour (those seen by us seemed
quite contented with their lot)—to get the iron and work it, and
also perhaps for his protection. The despots of Sennaar also keep up
their dignity by slaves, and not by a body-guard of women, any more
than Sultan Làkono. The Turks profited by this cheap opportunity
to buy slaves, and Suliman Kashef, who on the former expedition
brought fifteen slaves to Khartùm, and sold them as soldiers,
is said to have taken this morning several on board his vessel. I
am unable alone to oppose this want of discipline. Even M. Arnaud,
who pretended previously to oppose with me any purchase of slaves,
has been found very willing to take on board a young native girl,
who, however, is said to belong to the woman-hating Selim Capitan,
as a plaything for his little slave, or for himself, which makes
the invalid Sabatier perfectly furious.
Half-past eleven o’clock. We leave the island, and go at first
S.W. by S., and then proceed N.N.W. on the Kirboli (Bah’r el
abiat). On the right we have immediately the large village of Buko,
which turns longitudinally from the shore. The tree standing
there is taken not only by me, but also by the Egyptians, for
a _sycamore_. Three villages follow on the shore of the island;
the last also is not a small one. For a moment we are beneaped,
and get ourselves in motion by rowing against the north-east wind,
which is looming. The latter village becomes still larger, and is
connected with several others; from which, at twelve o’clock,
a small hamlet is separated by an interval of space. The pointed
roofs, which are frequently so shelving, of the little tokuls,
and which I at first could not explain, are nothing but the movable
coverings of the wattled magazines. We wind S.W. by W. On the right
a large and small village, W.N.W. and N. The arm of the Nile here
is not more than a hundred and fifty paces broad. Half-past twelve
o’clock N.W. and W. by E. Three villages on the right, and on
the left, from the deck, a distant Haba. Not far from the shore,
another village on the island. One o’clock.—We go to E.N.E.,
and wind to the left W. by N. The island continues cultivated, and
we perceive again a hamlet upon it. Half-past one o’clock.—From
W. by N., to N.E. by N., and a short tract N.N.W. We halt at this
place to wait for Selim Capitan. After a quarter of an hour we set
out again, and go from W.N.W. to N.N.E.
Several purchases were made, and there is eternal strife, robbery,
and theft of beads, among the crew. I see there will be murder and
homicide; for every one now wants spears and ebony clubs, as well
as strings of ostrich-egg aglets. It is fortunate that the ivory is
claimed by the government, and private purchase of it forbidden. We
observe here also some of those gigantic ant-hills, which are so
common on the low ground down the river. From the deck we remark
two villages on the left side, before the forest, which is half an
hour distant.
Two o’clock. N., and immediately W. by N. A large village upon
the island is seen from the deck at a little distance from the right
shore. Half-past two o’clock. At the right a broad arm of the Nile,
going to N.W., and forming a small island. We leave it to the right,
and go W. by N. and N. to N.N.E.; then round a sand-head again,
S.W. by W. The shores are mostly precipitously broken off; layers
of humus, sand, and earth impregnated with iron oxyde, which forms
here also the substratum. A quarter before three o’clock. Round a
sand-bank of the right shore for five minutes, N.N.E., then N.W. for
an equally short time, and to N. by W. The shores here are covered,
for the most part, with green reeds.
Three o’clock. The thermometer rose this morning, up to noon,
from 20° to 27°, and has now, at three o’clock, 30°. Towards
N. From the deck, a village on the left, and two on the right. N.W. by
N. Three villages on the left, and one on the right; the former near
the Haba, which is a quarter of an hour distant. Half-past three
o’clock. From W.N.W. to N.N.E. Two villages on the left, a little
remote from the shore. A very short tract E.N.E., and we round a long
sand-head to W. Six hippopotami are enjoying themselves before us,
as yesterday; and it seems that they retreat, when the stream falls,
into the marsh regions, where they are more secure from man.
To N. Here we again see hippopotami and crocodiles near one another;
they live peaceably together, as is generally known here, and a
crocodile would never attack a hippopotamus, much as he might like
perhaps his flesh. The latter has, indeed, like the elephant, a clumsy
appearance, but notwithstanding this, he displays an incomparably
greater activity in water and on land than the crocodile; besides,
he is as courageous as a bull, as soon as he is provoked, and attacks
men and tramples them under his feet, when he is wounded on shore. On
the other hand, he is said never to go ashore from the water, when
he is struck there by the harpoon, to pursue and take revenge.
We remark four villages in the neighbourhood of the right shore,
or on the island of Buko. Nearly all these villages are to be seen
only from the deck over our cabin. Four o’clock. From N.W. to
N.E. by N. The hippopotami appear angry at their tranquillity being
disturbed by us foreign intruders. They move quite boldly near to
the vessels, snort and throw up water, although they have not been
offended, as they were previously, by shots, which are discontinued,
owing to the great mischief perpetrated by these beasts at that
time. From N.E. by N., immediately to N.W. Some trees come in view,
and soon also a solitary dhellèb-palm—a pleasing sight which we
had long been deprived of. For some hours we have seen no people on
the shore, although three villages are found here again at a short
distance from it. The purchase of slaves or kidnapping cannot be
unknown to them, and they may fear a _quid pro quo_ for themselves,
and not trust the seeming peace. Half-past four o’clock. To W.,
a little way to S.W., and then W. by S., at which bend the river is
scarcely fifty paces broad. Reed-shores throughout. From the very
short tract W. by S. to S.W. by S. Here a broad arm goes to N.W.,
and forms an island at our right, where Suliman Kashef is already
halting, whilst we are still clinging to the left shore. Five
o’clock. Before us, to S.S.W., the river again separates, and
forms another island. The right arm is our road, and goes S.S.W.;
the left goes S.S.E. The latter appears to have become quite dry,
for the negroes have drawn a barrier of reeds through it, in order to
shut out the fish found in this gohr. We land at the first island. The
arm lying to S.S.W. shews itself now as a gohr, discharging itself
with unusual rapidity into the Nile, instead of forming our track,
for our course runs with the former great arm to N.W.
_4th February,_—Yesterday was the last day of the great
Bairam. Selim Capitan and Suliman Kashef had called up all the skill
of Turkish cookery to give us Franks a good dinner, at which we were
the jollier because the Frenchmen had lost several bottles of wine
in a wager. The river, flowing in S.S.W., and said to be an arm
of the Nile, puzzles me exceedingly. According to the natives, it
comes from the mountains above, and indeed from the Nile itself. If
it come from above, it must make a considerable bend; for it flows
from the left side into the river, and follows upwards its direction
immediately from S.S.W. to W.: it must cut through, somewhere,
the old sanded and choked-up primitive bed of the Nile, to come
from E. or S.E. from the mountains to W. It might be possible that
the half dried-up gohr, from S.S.E., serves as its main bed at high
water, and this being sanded up, it had retreated now into the deeper
canal. Selim Capitan found the breadth of this tributary, or gohr,
to be eighty metres near the before-mentioned solitary dhellèb-palm
on its shore. The rapidity of its current is greater than usual in
the White river, and amounts to three sea-miles and a half. Still
it is doubtful whether it be a river discharging itself, or a Nile
arm. Clouds, threatening rain, have shewn themselves for some days,
and in the evening-whole coveys of swallows are moving towards the
N. We have seen no dhellèb-palms on the shores of our Kirboli,
although there are some of them on the main stream. The Kirboli,
therefore, may have already reached its termination here.
I hear, from Selim Capitan and his interpreter, who is well acquainted
with this country, that we passed by two tribes yesterday afternoon;
and I understand now what the natives wanted to tell me when we
yesterday halted for a moment to wait for Selim Capitan. According
to what the Bukos themselves said, they were as large a nation as
their island. But this is incorrect; for at two o’clock yesterday,
this tribe ceased, and was followed by that of the Tshièrrs, who
possess both shores from thence, and reach to the neighbourhood of
this place, where Bohrs appear on the right shore. The Tshièrrs
have their foreheads stippled, like the people dwelling upwards,
and use also the same language. Downwards from them the language is
again allied to that of the Dinkas. It was, therefore, the little
country of the Tshièrrs, where no one was seen on the shore, because
they feared that we were set against them by the Bukos. However,
the tribes above named, having similar tongues and descent, do not
live in open feud, for I met myself with men of the Tshièrrs at the
top of the island. A couple of them also were with Selim Capitan,
and told him that their countrymen had fled from us.
It was here where I was so ill on our ascent, and yet was sufficiently
sensible to request to be bled. Therefore, everything now is new
to me, and I am the more anxious for intelligence about the stream
territory of this place. As I hear from Thibaut and Selim Capitan,
Arnaud applied himself to the sextant on our ascent, and found
3° 48′! Selim made himself merry at the engineer’s expense,
because he himself, on the first expedition, the limits of which
were some hours further upwards, had likewise found, or pretended to
have found, 3° and some minutes. The difference, however, appears
now by the calculation at not less than 3°!
We are here among the Elliàbs, who are constantly at war with the
Bòhrs dwelling opposite. Twenty-four Bòhrs had come across to us
to-day and brought us cows. The Elliàbs wanted to fall at once on
these men, and to massacre them. We made earnest remonstrance to
them to prevent such a scene, but they continued angry at the Bòhrs
coming into their territory, and thought that they could provide us
as well with cattle. The Bòhrs seem to be wealthy, and are better
armed than the Elliàbs. They _hunt_ elephants, but also catch them
in pits as elsewhere. The Elliàbs have their foreheads adorned,
like the Keks, with artificial wrinkles. They want also the four
lower incisors, as is generally the case on the White Stream. The
people are not muscularly limbed, but tolerably tall. They wear a
feather on the head, or a coiffure like a flat basket, which may
serve them as such, for it is only very loosely put on.
The war-dance which they performed in honour of us was of the
same character as those we had hitherto seen, but it was executed
here even in detail. They approach us marching in a column, with
a leader at their head. The commander tunes the battle-song, and
the chorus answer him. They run forward, and the column breaks,
because in their wars they meet breast to breast; they parry with
their hands the feigned hostile darts, and avoid them, bending and
writhing their body, and kneeling down. They retreat, and the leader
encourages them by a warsong, and even a woman steps out from their
little company and sings to them to inspire them with courage, in
quite a different melody, and with half-threatening, half-imploring
gestures. The column has again closed, deploys a second time, and
sings its answer in vehement and broken notes. We need not understand
the language in such a warlike play, which reminds us irresistibly
of the ancient Germans. They generally performed this dumb show with
a pliability and truth of expression, such as no European _artiste_
could imitate, unless he had learned their manner of carrying on war
from his infancy. Moreover it does not seem that they carry shields,
because otherwise they would have made the parry with their hand
differently. When I think how skilfully the dexterous horsemen
of the Shaigiës performed the well-known girid, or Dshirid game,
threw the obtuse spears, parried them with the hand or the girid,
which answers to the German _gerte_ (switch), or avoided them,
now I believe that the men of Bari mostly make use in their wars
of the little hand-shields. The Elliàbs have brought cattle;
but repeatedly declare that it is the same to them whether Selim
Capitan gives them beads or not. Such proud disinterestedness has
not hitherto come before our notice.
_5th February._—The thermometer shewed, before sunrise, 15°;
yesterday morning, however, 20°, but at noon it was not higher than
27°, and at three o’clock 28°, and fell after sunset to 26°. The
hygrometer has been so disordered by Arnaud’s masterhand, that he
cannot even make use of it himself. This morning was misty, damp,
and cold. The corn was brought ashore from the vessels, and it was
discovered that a great part of it was mouldy. The bad condition of
the vessels is alone the cause of this, and Selim Capitan bears the
blame, because he had not taken care to have them properly caulked
before setting out. The people of this place have no ornaments on
themselves, and not even elephants’ teeth to dispose of. I could
only therefore procure a broad iron bracelet, and looked with a kind
of envy, when Selim Capitan despatched the sandal to the Bòhrs, on
the right shore, and fetched off a number of beautiful elephants’
teeth. Cultivation is not to be seen on and near our anchorage.
Selim Capitan asserts, that the questionable river is a gohr, which
he saw in the country of the Liènns, flowing away from the main
stream. I cannot persuade myself that I could have overlooked this,
with all my earnest attention. We shall navigate it therefore this
afternoon, in order to divest ourselves of uncertainty.
CHAPTER VI.
EXAMINATION OF AN ARM OF THE NILE. — FORESTS ON THE BANKS. —
PRICE OFFERED IN ENGLAND FOR A LIVE HIPPOPOTAMUS. — THESE ANIMALS
RARELY MET WITH IN EGYPT. — THE LIÈNNS. — ROPES MADE FROM THE
LEAVES OF THE DOUM-PALM. — UÈKA. — CHARACTER AND DESCRIPTION
OF THE LIÈNNS. — THE EMEDDI-TREE. — DÖBKER-TREE. —
COTTON-TREES. — THE TSHIÈRRS. — TRIBES OF THE BODSCHOS
AND KARBORAHS. — LABYRINTHS OF THE WHITE STREAM. — BARTER
WITH THE KARBORÀHS. — THEIR DRESS, ARMS, ORNAMENTS, ETC. —
MOUNT NERKANJIN. — ISLAND OF TUI. — THE KOKIS. — CONTEST WITH
HIPPOPOTAMI. — CROCODILES’ EGGS. — HOSTILITY OF THE TSHIÈRRS TO
THE ELLIABS. — EBONY CLUBS. — THE BÒHRS: THEIR SONGS, ORNAMENTS,
ETC. — ANT-HILLS. — “IRG-EL-MOJE” OR WATER-ROOT, A SPECIES
OF VEGETABLE. — VETCHES. — THE ANDURÀB OR ENDERÀB-TREE. —
THE DAKUIN-TREE. — A SOLDIER STABBED BY A NATIVE. — ANTIQUITY
OF DUNG-FIRES.
6th February.—Yesterday the doubtful river was indeed investigated,
but only for a very short distance, for the wind was contrary, and
the sailors and soldiers murmured loudly, because they knew that
this intermediate voyage, which threatened to delay their arrival in
Khartùm, arose from the Franks. Under such circumstances, even the
expressions of the natives of the country cannot be depended upon,
for our black soldiers can translate just what pleases them. At
first the river was said to come from the mountains above, and
now they make it take its origin as a gohr near the Liènns. We
had an interpreter with us, who is familiar with its shores, and
who returned to us at this opportunity. When he also confirmed the
new assertion, the further examination was provisionally given up
after a course of about an hour long. Where it flows down N.W. by
N., we turned round and navigated W. by N. out of it back to
our encampment. The projecting shore had deceived me, therefore,
when previously passing by, with respect to the direction of this
arm of the Nile. It is called Kiehr, which is the often-heard kir
(water), thence Kirboli, Kirti, Kiti. There is therefore no doubt
that the name of the White Stream, the main arm of which is called
also here Kir-Te, is originally Te, from Barì to Khartùm, for it
is even called Te Uri by the Nubas, the former word not being used
for drinkable water. The country of these four arms of the Nile is
called Kofon, corresponding to the Arabic mogren (conflux).
I repaired this morning on board Selim Capitan’s vessel, and shall
remain with him to-day, on account of his interpreter. It was not
till this morning that it was at last determined to follow further the
questionable arm of the Nile, which we navigated for a short tract the
day before yesterday. Seven o’clock. We leave our landing-place,
and proceed up the Kièhr in a westerly direction. After a quarter
of an hour the latter serves as a gohr to N., appearing soon to
disembogue itself into the stream, which we navigated previously.
We go some paces here S.W., where quite a little island, with high
reeds, rises in the middle of the river. From W. to S.W., from W. to
N.W. The Kièhr seems to be rapid at its tide, and to exercise great
force: we see it by the torn and indented shores, and especially
by the devastations on a little gohr, now dry. Half-past seven
o’clock. A broad gohr flows away to N., and winds immediately
N.W. Our river, which increases considerably in breadth above this
Nile arm, winds W.S.W., and S.W. Before us a large forest; near it
we halt immediately afterwards.
At eight o’clock, a north-wind gets up, and we sail S.S.W.,
and S. by E.; after a quarter of an hour, S.W., and W., and with
a short bend, immediately to S. Right and left pastoral villages,
with lowing herds and natives on the ant-hills. The huts have the
form of a bee-hive, are five to six feet high, and plastered with
Nile slime. The ash-grey people dance and jump, and want to keep
us by force. The women run and sing by us, their hands thrown over
their heads in real despair because we will not stop. Half-past eight
o’clock. S. by E. The depth of the water not more than a fathom. On
the left a long summer village and a harim of several tokuls close
to it. We halt a moment at the right shore, take the wood which
the negroes had already brought for us to the shore, give them some
sug-sug, and proceed. The women, with large leathern aprons, who have
gone away empty-handed, jump and make gestures as if they were mad.
A quarter before nine o’clock, S. Clouds threatening rain. At the
right the forest close at hand. E.S. On the right a large pastoral
village, with plastered beehives, looking like the bakers’ ovens in
the land of Sudàn. The cattle stand with their beautifully-twisted
horns, close pressed together, and low at us, probably because they
recognise us as deadly enemies, and would rather be in the meadow than
waiting here for us. We do not halt for the sake of the oxen, but on
account of the vessels stopping behind, although we ought to take
advantage of the favourable wind, as the water is falling more and
more. Elliàbs are there, who are unarmed, but yet immediately begin
their war-dance. The vessels have, fortunately, not been stranded,
and we sail on at nine o’clock. The village is called Kiùi or
Quùi, and is the boundary of the Elliàbs on the right side of the
river. After a quarter of an hour, E.S.E. Half-past nine o’clock,
S.E. by S., and in a bend to S. A quarter before ten o’clock,
S.S.E., and S.E., where, at the corner, the crocodiles make a great
rustling in the shallow water, and seem to be engaged in violent
combat. At ten o’clock, S.S.E.
I am again very weak to-day, and cannot yet recover myself,
for I want a glass of good wine; every moment I sink back upon
the cushion, and can scarcely hold a pen. The Haba accompanies us
continuously at a slight distance from the right shore. A quarter
after ten o’clock. From S.E. to S.W., and again to S.E. We see many
crocodiles wallowing about in the water, who do not look at us in a
very friendly manner. Half-past ten o’clock. From S.E. by S. to
S.W. The hippopotami, thirteen in number, are crowded like smooth
rocks in the water before us. They spout up the water from anger
at still larger swimming animals approaching, as they may conceive
our vessels to be, for it does not seem that they are in conflict
amongst themselves, or that they want to take the field against the
crocodiles, who are keeping behind us.
A little before eleven o’clock some armed ash-grey men shew
themselves, without any ornaments, on the right shore. From S.W. by
W. to S. by W. We halt at the right shore to receive some elephants’
teeth, but they are too old, and we bear off immediately again to
S.E. In the forest at the right hand we perceive a number of birds and
a considerable herd of gazelles, who stand in an attitude of curiosity
like goats. Up to here the Elliàbs ran after us from the village of
Kiùi. Half-past eleven o’clock. From S.E. by E. to S., yet not for
long, but to the left S.E. At half-past twelve o’clock. We halt a
second time at the right shore, owing to want of wood. I saw here
a large oval shield of neat’s hide, held simply by a stick. It
belonged to an Elliàb; these shields are said to be used more in
contests with animals than in war. This is perhaps likewise the case
with the few larger shields in the country of Bari.
At half-past one o’clock we navigate again to S.E., and a quarter
before two to S. by E. We see that the forest lies lower than the
shores, and that the water enters it. This local quality of ground is
the case generally, perhaps, in the forests. Either they lie behind
the dam of the old shore, which prevents the mass of waters of the
periodical rains from flowing into the river, or the Nile enters
through the chasms of the shores, if they do not lie in recesses
or old river-beds, where the rain water collects and remains on the
clayey substratum, which is the very same even as far as the mountains
of Bari. How could it be possible else that these vigorous trees
(the Tihl or elephant-tree is particularly seen here), should retain
their magnificent verdure abstractedly from the atmospheric moisture.
Two o’clock. The thermometer this morning 18°, noon 26°, and now
27° Reaumur. From S. to S.S.E. and soon again to S. The north wind
has slackened since noon; we navigate slowly, and must even content
ourselves with libàhn, for no one has yet thought of taming river
buffaloes to tow us in the water itself. Laughable as this may appear
at the moment, yet I do not consider it impossible, for according to
the crew, a young hippopotamus is as tame as a calf. The apothecary
Laskaris possessed shortly before my arrival in Khartùm such a
Nile calf. He wanted to make a vast sum of money by it, for they had
offered in England a reward of some thousand pounds sterling to any
one who would bring a live hippopotamus to London. It is well known
that a living species has never yet been seen in Europe. His avarice
did not allow him, however, to place the beast in some garden close
to the Nile; nor did he provide a cow and fresh milk. He was even
foolish enough to lower it into the cold cistern, where it died in
a few days. Although this primitive animal was formerly indigenous
in Egypt, yet now it very rarely descends over the cataracts to
that country. Mohammed Ali had received such a beast as a present
from Upper Nubia, which was kept for some years as a curiosity in
a reservoir in the Nile at Bulak, the lower port of Kàhira.
Half-past three o’clock.—From S. to S.E. by S. On the right, in
the badly planted Haba, the first doum-palms again, standing at the
corner, which we pass by at a quarter before three, for a very short
tract to S.S.W., and equally rapidly S.S.E., to go at three o’clock
again S.S.W., and immediately to S. A half-finished tokul-village
rises very humbly between some old low huts. There were here benches
in the form of couches, which I had not yet seen on the White Stream,
although I had not exactly regretted their absence. They consist of
cudgels, and every single tokul has its seat of repose. Half-past
three o’clock. From S.W. to S. by E. Near the doum-palms, we see
also solitary and unusually high poison-trees in the forest, at the
right hand. The country appears very little populated; perhaps a
sign that we are really in a tributary arm or gohr. This was also
the case even where the Kièhr disembogues near the Elliàbs. The
scantier population may arise, in part, from the more recent lines
of the shore being less constant. The solitary tokuls belong to
fishermen, if we may judge from the sürtuks and fish-baskets set
up. Four o’clock. From S. in a bend to S.E. On the left a long and
miserable village stretches along the shore, with nine carcases of
tokuls, and small tobacco-plantations. This appears also to be a
village of fish-eaters.
Half-past four o’clock. Still the solitary tokuls, with fishing
implements and sürtuks. From S.E. by S., a short tract to S. The
natives are of a friendly disposition, and laughed immoderately,
when the sailors, among whom our Abu Hashis play the principal part,
imitated the cry and laughter of the women. By the short stakes,
which are already sufficiently known to us, we perceive that their
icthyophagism has a flesh-side. They also use the word matta (lord
and king) when they address us. It may, therefore be a borrowed
word among them; it is said also to be used in Habesh. A quarter
before five o’clock, from S.S.W. to S. by E. A miserable village,
with tobacco-plantations, on the left shore, but the divine smoke
rising close by, asserts the old attractive power of meat. We stop
for a moment, at five o’clock, at the right shore, as if we were
about to land, but the drum is beat, and the tired crew must again
to the rope. S.E. by S. The village at the right shore, before
which a little sycamore hangs over the river, is better built,
and its several magazines testify that the people apply themselves
to agriculture. Half-past five o’clock. At the upper end of the
village the river winds in an arch S.E. by E. We see continually
doum-palms in the forest of the left shore, whereon a village rises.
At last we are again close to the main stream, and near the Island of
Buko. At sunset we halt at the right shore S.S.E. We see from hence
the trees near which, a few days ago, we lay at anchor by the village
of Buko, and also the village itself, but separated from it by land,
and our gohr,—the presumed river, winds to the right.
The Liènns dwell here; and the interpreter already dismissed,
Gùmberi, who had left us in Berize, the capital of the Bambers,
came to us again. Clothing appears here to be the privilege only
of the chiefs, for Gùmberi was obliged to take off his red shirt,
it being against the Ethiopian regulations about dress, and he was
asked whether he was a sheikh. (I use here, as throughout my book,
the word sheikh of the Arabic language, as the most significant in
analogous circumstances.) There are many doum-palms here, especially
young copse, upon which the sailors pounce, and take the leaves to
make cords of them. I see, to my sorrow, that they do not even spare
the narrow convoluted hearts, which are four to five feet long. The
leaves are plucked, laid in bundles upon a stone, and worked with a
stick, till they are split into fibres; then they are again twisted
together, sorted anew, and laid, like coarse hemp, in the sun to
dry. The very same process takes place with the inside bark of
various trees. I got, subsequently, in the country of the Shilluks,
a small handful of flax, which, according to my Tshauss Marian, was
prepared from the bark of the Baobàb: this tree is called in the
Nuban language, Omràh; its fruit, however, Tabeldi. It is whiter
than flax, shining like raw silk, and feels exactly like the latter.
_7th February._—The beating of the doum-leaves goes on again at
daybreak, as if the crew wanted to acquire enormous treasures by
them in Khartùm. It appears as if we shall remain here to-day,
on account of the doum-palms and hunting. Our encampment is an old
bean-field, from which my servants brought me, in a very short time,
a number of beans, quite young, to eat as a salad. Unfortunately I
must begin to be sparing of my vinegar, for it is truly welcome to
me in these regions, as the most refreshing restorative, although
it causes thirst afterwards. I have almost entirely renounced meat,
and live principally on coffee, biscuit and uèka. The people cannot
subsist without this dried bamie, and therefore my men have laid
in a plentiful stock. Rubbed to a meal on the murhaka, I have it
boiled to a thick pap, with onions and the pepper of the country,
(fillfill bèlladi), and I afterwards pour vinegar over it. I remarked
this morning that Arnaud noted 82° atmospheric moisture, although
the hygrometer has entirely left off working. I made him comprehend
that this was somewhat too much here; he took the thing, however,
as a bagatelle, and said that it would rectify itself afterwards!
The race of the Liènns, who dwell here, is called Kikin, and the
Tshièrrs live opposite. The Liènns are friendly, and even sociable:
they allow themselves to be joked with, and take the blows with reeds,
which the sailors deal them, as play; but do not venture to return
them. Though these people are inclined generally to jesting, and merry
scenes often take place with our wags, during which the former are a
pattern of good humour, yet they still remain extremely mistrustful
in barter. It is not till they have grasped the beads firmly in their
hands, that they let the goods go which are to be given for them. I
remark that the number of the stippled lines on their forehead is
usually from three to five; we see many also with quite a smooth
forehead. Their weapons are better than those of the Elliàbs, and
they exhibit, on the whole, more wealth, not only by their ornaments,
which, indeed, _per se_, are insignificant, but, in particular,
by a certain plumpness of body, denoting better nourishment.
They bring us baskets, very neatly plaited, of split bamboo reeds,
square at the top, and protruding spherically at the bottom. I get
some bows and arrows, perfectly similar to those of Bari. The arrows,
with wooden or bone points, are principally only destined for the
chase, as also the spears, with barbs. Iron is dear here, and they
did not like, therefore, to sell their javelins, some specimens of
which I had acquired previously. They tell us that there are several
lions in the neighbouring Haba, and want to prevent us from hunting
on that account. We remained on land to-night, with just confidence
in the good disposition of the people, as we had done previously
among the Elliàbs, and set sentinels on the shore.
_8th February._—I repaired early this morning to the forest,
and returned in two hours, just as Arnaud was setting out, in
company with Suliman Kashef and his men. Suliman altered his mind
suddenly, alleging, as a pretext, the heat; and Arnaud also, who,
before sunrise, was going to slaughter lions and tigers, composed
himself very submissively to return. The doum-palms, if they do
not form a single species, have a meagre appearance, and but little
height; the doum-copse, on the contrary, stands very luxuriantly, and
measures sixty fingers’ breadth in a fan. The negroes have really
no dome-fruit left, and the elephants may have had the beginning of
it, and the gleanings. The poison-trees are unusually large here.
A tree attracted my attention, by its size and light-coloured
branches, similar to those of the sycamore. Unfortunately it had lost,
like the baobàb, its leaves, except a few. The ends of its boughs,
from which the leaves develope themselves, have buds similar to those
of the chesnut-trees. Mariàn says that this tree is called Emeddi,
and is present on all the mountains of Nuba. According to him it has
small flowers, and little fruits of a reddish colour. These are as
large as clusters of grapes, and hang together in the same manner,
only somewhat looser, are very sweet and eaten. The elephant-tree
(in the language of the Nubas Tihl, or also Or Omul—Or, tree, omul,
elephant) stood in abundant verdure, with long young fruits. As I now
hear, its fruit is eaten by the Nubas only in case of necessity. If we
consider this tree, with its shady roof of leaves and its magnificent
long clusters of flowers and fruits, we feel inclined to look upon
_it_ as the Persea, or arbor cœlestis of the hieroglyphics, and
not the leafless baobàb, which is mostly a ruin without shade. In
Kordofàn, the Or Omul or Tihl sheds, moreover, its leaves, as the
beautifully foliated Emeddi does here.
Another tree pleased me, which was covered with white flowers, as
if with snow. The small, pointed, and succulent leaves are something
like those of the pear-tree, as well as the tree itself. Four white
leaves are arranged around eighteen long blue stamina. The fruit
is said to be as large as an egg, and is eaten. The tree is called
döbker, and is also indigenous in Nuba. Among the mimosas we remarked
only talle; sunt seems not to present itself at all in these upper
regions. Nearly all the wood of these trees is soft, and was felled
to be worked into pulleys and other things for the vessels. As the
bark of the muddus-tree is better than all the others for ropes,
and does not appear on the great Nile, it was eagerly sought for. I
found also some cotton-trees with small leaves, in the Haba, which
lies tolerably high, and presents an extensive view. Honey is found
here in the ground, and on the trees, but the little cakes contain
only a small quantity. A large durra-field in the Haba lies, on
the whole, high, and falls away to E. and S.; the soil is strongly
mixed with sand. It must rain here, therefore, for a long time, and
continuously, as the powerful growth of the trees bespeaks, because
otherwise durra, even were it ever so rapid in coming to maturity,
could not thrive without artificial irrigation.
The Tshièrrs live in friendship with the Liènns, whose language
they use, and have the very same _insignia_ of race on their
foreheads. Wherever there are boundaries, such as the river here,
then there appears jealousy and discord. A little slave of Selim
Capitan’s begged to be allowed to throw into the water the other
boy, who was not, like himself, a Tshièrr, but a Liènn, because
he dwelt on the other side of the river. In other respects both
these tribes live in peace; and yesterday a Tshièrr brought us a
young slave-girl purchased from the Liènns, and she was bought in
exchange by Suliman Kashef. We have already become too intimate with
the natives by our two days’ abode for the Turks not to commence
civilising them after their manner. At the head stands Selim Capitan,
who is really earnest about the matter; at his side, Suliman Kashef,
who is not behind the worthy son of Crete in cultivation, and likes
laughing and amusement. The thermometer had this morning 20°, noon
until three o’clock, 27° to 29°, and after sunset 27° Reaumur.
_9th February._—At half-past seven o’clock this morning we leave
our encampment, and go by the rope E.S.E., and soon S.E. A summer
village lies at the right shore, and an island in the water, which
is low and covered with green vegetables. Two tokuls are upon it,
surrounded with high fish-baskets and hedges of cut simsim, which
appears to be dried in this way. I remark on the island as well as
on the steep disrupt shores, that the lower thick layer of earth
consists of black mould, whilst the middle stratum is red with iron
particles, and the upper one strongly impregnated with sand. The
arable land here appears not to arise from a general deposition, but
has its commencement from the slime of a lake, and the remains of a
subjacent vegetation for its formation. The north wind has set in,
and we navigate round the island in S.W., S.E., and S., and sail at
eight o’clock S. by E. Immediately afterwards S.S.W., a small island
before the forest on the left shore. Eight o’clock, S.E. Here the
island will soon end. Then to S.; solitary farm-yards on the right and
left on the low shores; cultivation before the rising Haba. A quarter
before nine o’clock, S.S.W. The left shore is covered with young
dome-palms, and a large widely scattered village ascends gradually
with the shore to the height of the Haba, in which we remark a number
of large dome-palms. The margin of the shore stretches flat along the
river, and before it lies a completely shallow island, or peninsula,
whereon a quantity of fishing implements are lying about. Nine
o’clock S., then S.S.E., and S.E. Right and left, the level land
is well cultivated with durra, simsim, and especially lubiën.
The wind changes after nine o’clock to E. We furl the sails, and
halt at half-past nine o’clock, at the left shore, after we had
first gone a short tract to E. by the rope. There is a very little
isle in the river, and near the trees on the left shore a hamlet,
under which the edge of the shore is also cultivated. From deck we
perceive five other villages, of which one is large, at a slight
distance from the water. The Haba retreats for an hour. At the right
shore are two villages, and the Haba is still further distant.
The people of the Lienns are, on the whole, poor in ornaments and
weapons, although individuals carry two or three spears, and a
bow with arrows, without quivers, in the left hand. They have the
heads of the spears generally turned towards the ground, which was
not the case further up. This is perhaps rather a sign of friendly
sentiments than their usual custom. They fear, as I saw yesterday
and the day before, even the smacking of the great, long whips, that
the sailors have made from bark for their amusement. They like to
look at the beating of the palm-leaves, and then the sailors cannot
forbear dealing cracking blows right and left, with the dome-leaves,
and running after them. The Liènns understand a joke, and laugh,
run away, and return immediately again to let themselves be cudgelled
anew. They are great children, who are happy at seeing us and our
doings, and playing with the soldiers, although the jests of the
latter are often rude, and at times even end with plunder.
Ten o’clock.—We proceed with the libàhn E. by S. Half-past
ten o’clock. From S.E. to S.W. At the left lie four villages,
tolerably close together, and on the right rises, at a quarter of an
hour distant, a considerable village between trees, on the gentle
height of the Haba; before it a large level field descends to the
edge of the river. Soon again to the left round to S. by E. A crowd
of natives, amongst whom are also some coloured red, welcome us from
all sides. Our gohr is not above fifty paces broad, but has a strong
fall. Nothing is yet to be discovered of the main stream, and we
begin now to doubt in our very tedious voyage, whether we did see on
the 6th instant our old anchorage at the island of Buko. A quarter
before eleven o’clock, S.E. by S. Not far from the right shore,
a large village, near which we hear the lowing of herds. The shore
is cultivated, and we see there some magazine tokuls, and whilst we
are going S. by E., we perceive from the deck another large city in
the Haba. Opposite, on the left shore, some tokuls, and a numerous
herd of cows.
Eleven o’clock. From S.S.W. to S.E. and E.S.E. Half-past
eleven. From E.N.E. to S.E. At twelve o’clock we stop near some
tokuls on the right shore, to allow the crew to eat. The upper
boundary of the Bodshos, who follow the before-mentioned Kikins, is
in the neighbourhood, and the Karboràhs begin here, who also belong,
with the first named tribe, to the nation of the Liènns. They dwell
on both sides of the river, and live at war with each other. In a
quarter of an hour we move on again, and go in short bends S. by E.,
E.S.E., S.E., and S.S.W. From the deck—four villages on the right,
and three on the left. Half-past twelve o’clock. For a finger’s
length to S.E., and then S and S.W.; a quarter before one to S. One
o’clock, S.S.E. On the left two villages seen from the deck; on
the right an island, covered with high grass. We must think no more
of an island of Buko, for this gohr is said by the negroes to lead
up to the mountains; and I had therefore heard quite correctly,
at the very beginning, near the Kofon of the Elliàbs and Bohrs,
where this very same thing was said plainly enough.
If we suppose that we shall again be connected with other arms of
the Nile, for we were near such a one on the 6th inst., which I
still hold to be that of the island of Buko, our return voyage,
with the present waste of time, might become more difficult than
is expected. We should be obliged to wait for the commencement of
the hariff (rainy season), or to seek to regain King Làkono’s
sympathy, which we have forfeited. The want of good bread-corn,
already beginning to be felt, is the only thing that makes me fear
the crew would not then be induced to follow further the White Stream
beyond Bari.
The Abu Hashiff of Suliman Kashef proclaimed this morning a punishment
of five hundred blows of the cudgel to any soldier or sailor who
should be found to have delayed slaughtering his goats or sheep
till to-morrow. They had collected together at different times,
by purchase, theft, and robbery, several beasts, whom they were
fattening with durra, to sell them in Khartùm.
Sand-banks also appear with the increase in width of the gohr, and
render the navigation difficult. A quarter before two o’clock, a
short tract, S.S.W. and W.S.W. Two o’clock, W. by S. A broad gohr
flows here from our arm to S.E., and makes the land at our left a
large island. We go, however, up the stream, and wind W.S.W., where
we halt at the right shore. It is asserted very positively that we
have navigated up and down that broad gohr flowing from here, and
that therefore the continued ascending in the gohr, in which we are
at this moment, and which also is becoming broader, has no object. It
matters not, however, whether we are blind and do not see, or whether
we see as we wish, so that we only go again downwards. Our river
arm has suddenly here again a width of three hundred paces. This,
as well as the depth of the water, speaks, certainly, in favour of
the sailors’ opinion, that we are again on the main stream. The
supreme council would fain, of course, assent to this opinion, but,
to my great astonishment, I hear it is very much feared that we shall
lose our way in another stream territory, and not come out at all
by Khartùm. In order to prevent our returning by the very same road
in our gohr, I propose to navigate up even as far as the mountains,
to set ourselves right, or at least to find some memorials, such as
a village or natives that we had seen previously. Our men, however,
put no more confidence in what the latter say, and the crocodiles and
hippopotami give us no intelligence. The blue-green broken corals
which we had found already in the kingdom of Bari, are still the
same here, and are preferred by far to those of a white colour.
At half-past two o’clock a north-east wind set in, which blew the
_wise council_ asunder. A short tract to E.S.E. by the rope, and
we sail then S.W. by S. in a flat arch to S.W. with two miles’
course. The shores are low and only three to four feet high. The
green forest developes itself behind the slender, half-dried reeds. A
quarter after three o’clock. From S.W. with a short bend to E.S.E.;
at half-past three o’clock E. by N., and at four o’clock S.W. by
W. The shores have been for a long time without cultivation, and
only here and there we see some negroes, but yet there are two large
villages, a quarter of an hour distant from the left shore.
It is scarcely four o’clock when Fadl tells me from the mast that
he sees a high mountain W.S.W. I remark its peak also immediately
from the deck. To judge by the outline of it, it appears to be the
Nerkanjin, but I do not wish it, as I would rather see another
beautiful mountain country. Whilst we are sailing S.S.W. a gohr
issues on the right from our mysterious river to W.N.W., and makes,
therefore, the land at our right, a large island. What a happy
combination of natural canals, and what nations may be still
drinking of this water! A quarter after four o’clock, S.E. by
S. Right and left a village on the shores. There are low tokuls
with clay walls and square doors: the roof consists of leaves of
the dome palm. Their large baskets are also composed of the hearts
of these trees. The village of the right shore has many open tokuls
or cattle-stalls, and enters tolerably far into the land, where we
observe several herds. Half-past four o’clock. From S.E., with the
broad beautiful bend of the river to S. by E. At five o’clock we
stop opposite a large village on the right shore, where many natives
are collected. The thermometer, 20°, 28°, 30°, and 27° Reaumur.
_10th February._—At the first sight of the morning dawn we heard
the great wooden kettle-drum (nogàra) sounding opposite in the large
village of Karborah, which instrument is beaten for amusement, as well
as for driving out the cattle. The watch-houses of the cow-herdsmen
stand in the centre of the enormous herd; the employment of these
men may be taken in turns like that of the night-watch. The tribe
of the Karboràhs, who, as I have said before, are a branch of the
Liènns, and independent, is here likewise not entirely stippled on
the forehead. Yesterday evening we traded with them, and I received
many a pretty thing, principally of iron; for they dwell nearer
the mountains, the source of iron wealth. Thus, I purchased ivory
bracelets, with black streaks; bows of bamboo, with iron ends, and
narrow bands of iron; ropes of bark, which, according to Mariàn, are
from the muddus-tree, and the strongest; some hair-lines, said to be
made from giraffes; thin iron chains, which they sling round their
ribs; but I could neither see a kettle-drum nor an antelope-horn
for blowing. It was with much trouble that I got a surprisingly
beautiful little he-goat, with a head like a gazelle, although the
other little goats have compressed noses. Selim Capitan was looked
upon here also as our matta; and they wanted to take by force a large
elephant’s tooth, which I had already bought, to present to him,
not returning, however, my thick glass beads. Several Nile buffaloes
are found in the river—a sign in the present season of the year,
that agriculture is diligently attended to in the vicinity.
At eight o’clock, we set off from S. to S.W.; a quarter before
nine o’clock, from S.E. by S. to S.S.E.; on the left a hamlet. A
quarter after nine o’clock, S.E.; and we sail with the good east
wind immediately again S. and S.S.W., and make three miles. Half-past
nine o’clock, S.E. Cultivation at the right side, and a watch-house
in the tobacco plantations. It seems as if tobacco were considered,
in the opinion of our people, an article of luxury which may be taken
whenever they like, without injustice. The tobacco plantations are
sheltered here also with reed-mats erected on sticks three feet high,
as a protection against the scorching solar rays. Immediately again
S. Dancing, clapping, huzzaing, and young girls and women singing
on the right shore.
A quarter before ten o’clock. From S.S.W. to S.E. The wind is very
contrary, and drives us together to the right shore, where we make
use of the rope for a short time. The merry girls and women are
adorned with rings and necklaces; only the head is shaved, as in
the other places, and they wear no rings in their ears. They have
the sitting-skin already mentioned behind, and the narrow rahàt
before. Moreover, most of them are armed with bows and arrows,
probably for self-defence in the absence of the men. A quarter after
ten o’clock. We sail again to S. We remark no villages, and yet
there are several people on the right shore; the habitations seem,
therefore, to be up the country in the Haba. It was not till after
a quarter of an hour that a large village appeared: soon afterwards
a second, the inhabitants of which have collected on the right
shore. About eleven o’clock we double a little island on the right,
and at the left a broad gohr, with a strong fall, flows in from S.E.;
near it lies a still smaller island, like a grass-shield, bulging
out in the middle, which we also leave on the left. Half-past eleven
o’clock. From S. Libàhn, E.S.E. Herds right and left; shady roofs
on four stakes. My men have bought a large wooden drum for me, and
throw it down the shore; but several natives, who are against the
sale, jump after it, and take it back by force; it seems to be the
property of the community. Twelve o’clock. From E.S.E to S.S.W. In
the background an island ascends.
The negroes wear frequently small animals’ skins on their heads,
which hang down over the nape of their necks. The sun has as
injurious an effect here on the former as on the vertebral columns
of the latter. A quarter of an hour later to S., and our corpulent
friend, Mount Nerkanjin, steps forward from S.W., blue and boldly,
from the background over the above-named island, near which a gohr
flows from W.S.W. At half-past twelve o’clock we lie to at the
right shore, near the same, to let the men rest and eat. I could
not tell what made me so hot, but the thermometer shews just 33°,
although this morning it was only 20°, as usual. We only stop twenty
minutes, and the poor crew must again to the rope, S.S.E. After
one o’clock, we halt a second time near a little island, the
narrowest arm of which we soon follow, on account of the greater
depth. The current in this canal, which has fifty to sixty paces,
is uncommonly strong. Two o’clock.—From S.S.E. to S.W. by S.,
and immediately to the left S. by E., and right S.S.W. A quarter
after two o’clock.—A magnificent east wind: we shall make four
miles to S. by W. and S.S.W.; but it slackens immediately after
casting out the log, and only refreshing breezes breathe through
the windows. In order to get from this place, we assist the hoisted
sails by libàhn. A small island before us closes the narrow reach
of our course, which our ship, until half-past two, nearly fills
up. Three o’clock, S.E. by S, and on the right round a corner
S.S.W., a few paces, then immediately left to S., where we stop
a moment. “El Bah’r kebir!” our people are shouting on all
sides; for they take the broad stream, wherein we are now sailing,
for the White Nile itself. An arm separates from it to N.N.W.; the
last land on the right is therefore also an island. We go by the left
shore of the main stream, where it winds from S.S.W. to E.N.E. It
is called here, as up the river, Kirboli, and both sides of it are
inhabited by the Elliàbs; therefore there is no doubt that it is
the main stream. The great island just mentioned is called Tui. We
proceed at four o’clock to S.S.W., and Mount Nerkanjin remains
in a south-westerly direction as previously. Half an hour later, we
go from S.S.W. to S.; still no village, nor familiar tree appears;
even the sailors begin again to doubt—for aught I care,—only
forward; so that at last it must be resolved to wait for the rainy
season. At half-past four o’clock S.S.E.; we halt on the sand,
and no one appears to be sure of his point, least of all Arnaud,
who cannot comprehend his own journal.
Every doubt is removed, after considerable questioning of the natives;
we return a quarter before five o’clock from this ascent, and
stop above the Kièhr, which we had come up from the White Nile,
in order to examine it, even to its issue, and had taken hitherto
for an independent mountain stream. At six o’clock we go to the
neighbouring island, between the Nile and the gohr Kièhr. At sunset
29°; this will be a hot night.
_11th February._—We remain near the large island of Tui, make a
section of the Nile, and find the main stream below the bay, where it
divides into three arms, a hundred and twenty-eight mètres broad. It
is called here Landofò; the Kokis inhabit its left shore. The Liénns
possess the right, together with our island, and the shores of the
gohrs, between which is the island of Tobo. Only a few of the latter
tattoo the forehead; some, the shoulders, as far as the upper part
of the arm; and others, the upper part of the back: some have also
coloured themselves with ochre.
_12th February_—Observations are to be made also to-day, in order
to start in the afternoon. I purchase for a few large glass beads,
the first _fine_ elephant’s tooth, and I design it, being the
largest of all, as a cabinet specimen for my country. Now, at last,
it is evident to every one, that we are navigating back our old
road. It is fortunate for me that I am able to set up continuously
and write my journal, affected as I am with fever all the day after
the hot nights. At half-past two o’clock we bear off, and reach
at half-past four the end of the island of Tobo, near which we land
at sunset by the left shore, having made four miles and a half with
a strong current, and the stroke of the oar. Thermometer, in the
morning, 20°; noon, 32°; evening, 30°.
_13th February._—We are to set out half an hour after sunrise;
in the meantime the men are slaughtering in haste some cows,
which natives of uncommon size have brought us. We do not proceed,
therefore, till seven o’clock, in a north-westerly direction. The
river makes such short bends that we bound every moment against the
shore, notwithstanding the very strong fall, and we tear off also
a corner of the loose earth. This, as well as the carelessness
in steering, causes the vessel to draw water continually. Nine
o’clock. We stop at the left shore, near some dome-palms; the
water is a little deeper here, as if a broad arm of the Nile,
from E.S.E., joins with our narrow one, or we with it. Here also
they bring us cotton for sale. Eleven o’clock. We go on with a
favourable east wind. The tokuls for dwellings are the peristyles
already described. At noon we see several hippopotami, some of
them real monsters; these may remain here pretty constantly, being
perhaps their hunting district, because the river is, on the whole,
of great depth in this place.
We get on a sand-bank, close to which several crocodiles are
encamped. The first of these beasts (in truth a fearful leader)
attacks the men who are pushing the vessel off the sand-bank; then
a soldier jumps overboard, armed only with a hatchet (Chadàn),
boldly meets it, and really drives it back into the water. At this
moment shots were fired by the soldiers on board the vessels at the
whole congregation, but so badly aimed that not one remained dead on
the spot; they all made a slow retreat into the water, and we found
afterwards, in the moist sand on the shore, fifty-three of their
eggs lying together all of a layer. The shells were a little broken,
as if cracked, which may be caused by the sun and the humid sand. At
first I thought, indeed, that these eggs might be near hatching; but
I was persuaded of their freshness, when the crew eat them, roasted in
ashes, with much goût. I tried also a little one, and found the usual
taste of eggs, only it seemed to me particularly dry, and the white
was more spongy and not compact. My servants had preserved eight of
the eggs, which I put among those found in the neighbourhood of the
crocodile shot by Suliman Kashef. I see that the latter are smaller,
but thicker and rounder than the first-named. In general they do not
exceed the size of a goose’s egg, and differ from birds’ eggs,
especially by both ends being uniformly arched. When I compared
these eggs subsequently, in Khartùm, with another one, found by me
lying openly in the sand of the shore of the united stream, on our
journey to Sennaar, I found the latter to be considerably larger
than those of the White Stream. Without wishing to decide by this
on the different species of crocodiles, I remark that the people
here well know that there are such distinctions. At one o’clock,
we halt at the right shore, near a pastoral village, but do not
find the expected oxen. About five o’clock we push off again,
and a Nile arm divides to N.E.; then comes another from S.E., and
winds E.S.E. This is the arm, according to the general assertion,
which we previously ascended.
_14th February._—We at eight o’clock, navigate, the gohr, which
is new to us, and goes from N. to N.W. Right and left dwell the
Elliàbs; also on both shores of the gohr from whence we came. The
Tshiérrs follow the Elliàbs; their boundary is determined by some
dome-palms. The former made, yesterday, a marauding and murderous
attack on the island-land enclosed by the gohr, and killed several
men; they were, however, put to flight by the Elliàbs, who hastily
collected, and were driven over the water, by which they left three
dead. The Elliàbs mean now to make a great war against them, and
would not, on that account, sell us any of the few spears which these
poor pastoral people possess. The Kièhrs dwell, according to the
inquiries made by Selim Capitan over the island, on the right shore
of the Nile arm, which we ascend, the river being also called there
Kièhr, as we have already mentioned. This circumstance may have led
Selim wrong, for the Bohrs dwell there, as I ascertained with the
assistance of my Jengàh. After a quarter of an hour, we again stop
close to the left shore, where our river-arm, called here the Kir,
flows to N.W. Hardly any people come to us, and the few we see are
dirty, covered with ashes, and without ornaments. Their spears, small
in number, are however kept polished, as the negroes generally clean
carefully every thing pertaining to weapons, and iron decorations,
except when they have coloured red with ochre their entire bodies,
and then every thing they carry on them and with them is dyed
with the same colour. We see clouds, foreboders of rain, almost
uninterruptedly in the sky. Thermometer, at sunrise, 21°; from
twelve to three o’clock not more than 30°, at sunset 29°. The
Frenchmen add still more degrees, and see also more, in order to
frighten their readers at such a country.
We go, after a short halt, to the right shore, where there is
a large cattle village, with many sleeping-places and plastered
bee-hives, or tokuls, their tops being lightly covered with straw
or reeds: large herds there. We navigate, with the stern of the
vessel foremost, although the captain is on deck, towards N.N.W.,
and shall halt immediately at the left shore near a little pastoral
village. The red colour of the large heaps of ashes arises only from
the burnt cows’ dung. 3 o’clock. Selim Capitan has just returned
after a long voyage downwards. No water; therefore libàhn again,
back into the gohr traversed previously. I procured to-day, from
the herdsmen, four heavy breakers of beads or hassaeis of ebony,
without ornament; and I see also here old woollen morions, of which
I possess already one specimen. The Frenchmen still keep their
windows hung with curtains or closed, so as not to be disturbed by
the exterior world. At half-past four o’clock we are so fortunate
as to enter our old gohr E.S.E., and come soon to the old encampment
(I am again ill, as I was then,) turn the bow foremost, go N.W.,
and stop at sunset to N. at the left shore. I purchase a miserable
little stool, which is rare here, from the Elliàbs.
_15th February._—I have received, from Selim Capitan, a Bohr, as
drogman, but he will do nothing at first, for he is too hungry. The
river flows at half-past six, and up to seven o’clock, continually
to N., with declinations to N.W., where a small island appears on
the right. Again N.; on the left a large pastoral village of the
name of Uadir, belonging to the Elliàbs, or as our Bohrs call
them, Alliababe. The Bohrs possess the right shore, between whom
and the Elliàbs eternal war prevails. N.N.W.: on the left a little
island. Half-past seven o’clock. Over the dry straw of the shore on
the left green copse is sprouting, the tree-tops of the neighbouring
forest. Some drops of rain fell to-night on Feïzulla Capitan’s
fiery brandy-nose, as if on a hot stone, while he was sleeping on
deck; now, also, I feel some drops on my cool, pale nose. A fine
prospect! for neither are our corn magazines well covered, nor our
cabins air-tight above, thanks to Selim Capitan’s negligence. From
N.N.E. immediately again N.N.W. Eight o’clock. Right and left a
forest, preceded by a narrow border of the shore. A little island on
the right displays its green margin of reeds and creepers, as we see
in all of them. We halt at the sandy right shore: the left is fertile
soil, which is also the case on the right, though only for a short
tract. Suliman Kashef’s mallem was buried here the preceding year,
and Suliman visited now his grave under the trees. Opposite to us
lies the tolerably large pastoral village of Kelagò, a portion of
which only I draw, because it is like all the others. Thibaut also
has applied himself to the ivory trade; he has just acquired three
elephants’ teeth. Half-past nine o’clock. Away to N. and N.W.;
at ten o’clock, a small pastoral village on the left, with ash-grey
people. The forest extends at one side, and was refreshing to us,
with its various tints of green. Here and there the sun breaks
through the clouds, and casts picturesque gleams of light around;
I can even enjoy it, for I feel myself again better after the very
strong perspiration I had in the night.
The Bohrs have lines on their foreheads like the Elliàbs, not
waved, however, like the latter, but straight, and also broader. The
drogman has five, which appear to consist of double lines. A quarter
after ten o’clock, N.N.W.; to the left an islet, with flowering
creepers and reeds. We are welcomed with a song, for this is the
usual custom with the tribes below Bari. One leads the choir,
and the chorus joins continually with “jok, jok, are o jok;”
but they have several refrains, among which their “abande jok”
should not be forgotten. At eleven o’clock N., uninterruptedly,
like our direction, with the former deviations to W. and E., the
eternal enumeration of which would only be tiresome. I know enough of
the previous ascent to be able to control my French companions. We
stop at half-past twelve o’clock at the right shore by the Haba,
and push off at half-past one again to N.N.W. The nation of the Bors,
or Bohrs, is likewise poor, and nothing was to be purchased from them
but some teeth, which Matta Selim Capitan appropriated to himself. The
tribes hitherto seen have, on the whole, the same sort of weapons,
although some arms are only similar; everywhere we see solitary
spears, similar to those of Bari. It seems generally that all iron
work is manufactured in that country, according to the taste of the
different tribes, which is frequently indeed very bad, and sent away
from thence; many, however, may have been introduced by intercourse
with nations dwelling at their side. It is a cool north-west wind.
Thermometer, Sunrise 23° to 24°. Noon 27°. A quarter of an hour
later an island five minutes long shews itself to the left in the
middle of the river. We go N.N.W. At the foot of this island, another
one, small and low, and, as it appeared to me at first, cultivated;
but this, however, was not subsequently confirmed. Our course passes
between yellow and light-green copse and other trees. Only here and
there, there is still a dome-palm, quite small or young; yet they
probably serve for the canoes here, for I observed several of these
boats on the shore. Two o’clock. N.W. An island in the centre of
the river which we leave at our right; then N.N.W. I have convinced
myself, by _new_ ant-hills, that these insects, which are somewhat
larger here than the common ant, raise the earth from a depth where
it is entirely wet, black, and without admixture of sand (such as
on the level of the Nile, and in its neighbourhood), to make their
buildings durable. On the other hand, I remember the fallen-down
craters of the ant-hills among the Dinkas. It is now evident to me
that they openly seek a protection against the weather by getting
under the trees when there are any in their neighbourhood. The shores
shew here already a little oxyde earth. Half past two o’clock. From
N.N.E. to N., whereupon we halt at the right shore; for the Frenchmen
want to go hunting.
_16th February._—Thermometer yesterday evening, 24°; this morning,
19°. I made an excursion into the interesting forest: it lies upon
slightly-elevated sandy bottom, on which the dome-palms do not grow
so luxuriantly as in the country of the Tshièrrs, where I counted
sixty lances on one leaf, whilst here there are only from forty-two to
forty-six. I had preserved previously a vegetable, though not knowing
the nature of its root: here the sailors grubbed up some of the
same sort, and I saw tubers on them three feet and a quarter thick,
running towards the upper part to a round form, but appearing to
branch out below like enormous roots. Slender roots shoot from these
main tubers, and on them rises an insignificant-looking vegetable,
a foot high, covered at the top with small oval pale-green leaves,
like those of the box-tree: the clusters of gossamer-flowers are of
a yellowish colour. It is called “Irg-el-moje” (water-root)—in
Nuban, “Otto;” is very full of juice, but of a nauseous, sweet
taste, and is sold in Kahira. The suckers, properly speaking, must by
virtue of the soil here, go to a great depth. Our liquorice tastes
perhaps better, owing to its dryness. The large specimens were cut
to pieces and torn, by reason of their softness, and in consequence
of the greediness of our crew, who are like children, and yet laugh
at the blacks. I took a specimen for myself. The beautiful red peas
or vetches were also found. This vegetable was gathered; but no one
at first knew the foliage, until I discovered at last a few slender
tendrils of vetches, which were still green, and hung together with
the dry peas in the pods, which were burst open. The blacks and men
of Belled Sudàn make use of them as an ornament. They are small,
hard, and rough, like beads, have a black eye, with a white and
scarcely visible line, and are called hap-el-arùss (bride-grain). I
have in my possession several of them. The anduràb or enderàb,
a large tree with willow-like laciniated bark, is very common here:
it has little green clusters of flowers on its lower branches,
hanging in wild disorder; small round fruit, at present green, and
willow-like, yet truncated leaves. Besides many other trees, such
as talles, geïlids, and others, there is also a very large tree,
now thoroughly leafless, deserving notice, from its short prickles,
and little apples. Mariàn tells me that it has small round leaves,
which make their appearance in the hariff, together with a white
flower, and that it is called, in the Nuban language, dakuin. The
fruit is not eaten, but gathered green, and strung round the necks
of children, as a preventive against fever and other diseases.
We do not perceive grass anywhere, and therefore there are not
any cattle or human beings; but there may be, perhaps, many wild
beasts. Wild buffaloes, as I had been assured previously in the
upper Haba, and several of which animals Suliman Kashef and Capitan
Mohammed Agà, the Arnaut, with the halberdiers of the former, pretend
to have seen, are said to be frequently found here, and larger than
those of Egypt. We are more inclined to believe this assertion,
because it is well known to all our blacks that such beasts often
appear among the Shilluks, Hassanïes, and elsewhere. This animal
is called “Gamùs el galla.”
This morning, unfortunately, a soldier was stabbed by a Bohr with
a spear, because, as I suspect, he was about to take it away
from the latter according to the favourite Belesh manner, that
is, without paying for it. We were magnanimous, and did not take
any revenge on another Bohr, who was dragged to us instead of the
proper criminal. So likewise I see the _voluntary_ slaves of Selim
Capitan chained together on the shore. At one o’clock we leave our
beautiful landing-place. On the left a little village appears, then
also a Haba; but it is too scantily furnished with trees, and soon
retreats ashamed before the magnificent forest opposite. After some
minutes a reed island divides the river. Then we proceed with W.N.W.,
our sails swollen by the east wind, and leave it to the right whilst
we go more westerly, but soon again N. The burning of the reeds has
an unpleasing effect to the eye, but the country rises new-born like a
phœnix from the ashes. The island is fifteen minutes long. Half-past
one o’clock. From N.E. by E. to W. by S. A hamlet in the Haba to
the right of the shore, which is here high and precipitously disrupt,
owing to the narrow pass, lies picturesquely. A quarter before two
o’clock, N.W., on the right a little island. At two o’clock from
N.E. to N.W. in the bend, but the Haba has disappeared. A quarter
after two o’clock N.N.E.; on the right an island ten minutes
long. At the end of it N.E.; on the left an old village containing
tokuls with six to seven indentations on the roofs. The Haba, with
several dhellèbs, has approached us on the avulsed high shore; it
shews the genuine marks of the ancient or high shores. Half-past two
o’clock, near the bend to N.W.; on the right many dhellèbs, which
are not, however, of remarkable appearance, especially as the lower
dry branches are upon them. A quarter before three o’clock. From
the short E.N.E. tract to N.N.W. The forest on the right rises
upon sandy deposits of downs, somewhat in the form of a hill. The
sand was once deposited, perhaps, by an unusual inundation, on the
underwood, and has remained there since that time. The shores are
still intermixed with ochre here and there. A glistening long course
before us towards N.N.W., such as we had not had for a long time, with
the exception of the small inlets right and left; also a little island
there. Thermometer 19° and 29° to 30°. Three o’clock. The Haba
has retreated, yet N.N.W. On the left a small tokul village as before;
immediately under it to the right E.N.E. and W.N.W., again a forest,
the only break of the monotonous shores, islands, and villages. A
quarter after three o’clock. From a short westerly direction to
N.N.W. We halt at the right shore; perhaps Selim Capitan’s vessel
draws water—yet, no; the French gentlemen had not come up.
A quarter after four o’clock: off again, and we go N.E. On the
right side Bohrs, and on the left Elliàbs. Half-past four o’clock,
N.W. The Haba on the right rises on downs; we see dome-palms also
on it, but upon firm, dark earth, whilst the sand lies only on the
surface. Moreover, these dome-palms are considerably higher than
the dhellèbs. Violent storms cannot take place in these regions; I
have never seen a single tree torn up by the wind. A quarter before
five o’clock, from N.E. to N.N.W. The Haba remains and consoles
us more than sufficiently for the arid shore, although green reeds
and weeds struggle up here and there, and strike the roots deep into
the vivifying water.
To N.N.W., a long row of tokuls appears in parade before us, without
any other background than the horizon. On the right a narrow arm goes
to E., and places the barren tokul-city on an island. In the bend from
N.W. to W. The tokuls have, in part, the screen mentioned before,
as the entrance; the sleeping-places in the neighbourhood are built
of new reeds, and sixty tokuls without sleeping-places, and huts join
them. This place, inhabited by Bohrs, is called Jemàhl. Immediately
to the left also, by N.W, a tokul-village opposite; the lower walls,
being proportionably high, are partly plastered with Nile slime. The
knowledge of my drogman Joi is already at an end: he does not know
the name of this long village, lying on the margin of the river
like a crescent. Five o’clock from S.W. to N.E. by N. I remark
the circumference of a red cone of ashes in the centre part of the
broken shore: the reeds brush the vessel, and some of them fall on
the plank before my window.
That custom of dung-fires for the encampment of the herds already
mentioned, appears very ancient; for the earth deposited by the river
lies from three to four feet high near them. About sunset we stop,
on account of good neighbourhood, near a pastoral village on the
right shore, where the river winds to N. The goats and sheep jump
from the vessels with delight to the green grass on the shore. We
hoped to get some oxen here, but not any were brought us.
CHAPTER VII.
THE BOHR “JOI.” — HIS TREATMENT ON BOARD THE VESSEL. —
HIS ESCAPE. — WOMEN’S VILLAGE. — FELT CAPS. — SONGS OF THE
BOHRS. — TUBERS SIMILAR TO POTATOES. — THE BUNDURIÀLS. — THE
TUTUIS AND KÈKS. — AN ELEPHANT ATTACKED AND KILLED. — TASTE OF
THE FLESH OF THIS ANIMAL. — CHEATING OF THE NATIVES IN BARTER. —
WINTER TOKULS OR WOMENS’ HUTS. — MANNER OF MAKING A BURMA OR
COOKING-VESSEL. — “BAUDA” AGAIN. — FEÏZULLA-CAPITAN’S
INDUSTRY IN SEWING. — THE KÈKS LIVE BY FISHING. — DESCRIPTION
OF THE WOMEN. — SERIOUS ACCIDENT TO THE VESSEL. — OSTRICHES AND
APES. — FOGS ON THE WHITE STREAM. — WATCH-TOWERS. — SALE SHOOTS
A GIGANTIC CRANE. — IS PUNISHED. — THE NUÈHRS.
17th February.—The thermometer, hanging in the window, which
is always open, had, at about half-past eight o’clock yesterday
evening, 25½°, and this morning before sunrise 23°. The sky is
cloudy, and it seems as if it would rain; the east wind abates the
sultriness a little. At seven o’clock, from N.E. to E. by S.,
and immediately northerly. A quarter after seven o’clock, W.N.W.,
N.E., and then in a bend to N.N.W. The Bohr Joi was extremely happy
yesterday evening; he had eaten so much that he could not move: I
had repaired the broken bowl of his pipe, and he smoked my tobacco
and said, “affat” (good). Feïzulla Capitan has given him the
usual slave name of “Bachit,” by which he is called and teazed
on all sides. The Dinkaui Bachit, a young soldier, who might speak
to him, will have nothing to do with him; therefore the fellow finds
himself deserted, and cannot answer by words the crew, who are always
laughing at him. Even yesterday he hung down his head the whole day,
and looked on the ground, and I could not help feeling pity for the
otherwise free negro, separated as he was from his friends. He had
a handsome head, something of a Roman nose, large eyes, a mouth only
protruding a little, and all his teeth, except the four lower ones;
in other respects he was thin, seemed in grief, and almost starved
to death. This might have induced him perhaps to come on board Selim
Capitan’s vessel, who bound a piece of linen as an ornament round
his neck, but retained him as a slave. Awakened from my sleep, I heard
him speaking and singing, looking with passionate affection towards
both shores. I think the poor creature is taking leave of his country,
or he is home-sick, and owing to that cannot sleep. At midnight
he woke me a second time, and screamed Bohr, Bohr, Bohr! and then,
Elliàb, Elliàb, Elliàb! adding clearly thereto individual names,
whilst he turned himself to those regions. He sang loud, melancholy
songs, and what appeared from the melody to be the camel-song of the
Bisharis, and then shouted wildly and loudly. They tried to hold him
fast, but he was as strong as a lion. Subsequently he complained of
pains in the body, which perhaps arose from his dreadful gluttony,
and he gazed continually at the shores as if assistance would come
to him from thence. I suppose that he wants to escape, and therefore
I made him take off the linen decoration, as it might be an obstacle
to him in so doing; but I got him first to rub his stomach with it,
during which operation he roared and groaned like a wild beast, and
stretched himself with both hands on the lowered mast. Scarcely,
however, was he relieved from the attack of colic than he made a
tremendous spring over the heads of the crew right away into the
water. It was with difficulty that I prevented them from firing at
him. Feïzulla Capitan did not say a word, but put on a melancholy
face, because he feared possibly Selim Capitan’s reproaches.
Eight o’clock, N.N.W., and after fifteen minutes with a short course
to S.S.E. and again N.W. and N.N.W. On the right, a village, with
numerous light-coloured cows and open sleeping-places; between them,
little huts for women and children, formed like a basket, plastered
with slime, and covered at the top with entangled couch-grass, which
may serve as a covering against the weather, or as a chimney. The
north wind, which has set in, is contrary to us, and we are, at
a quarter before nine o’clock, when we are going to the north,
scarcely five minutes from the last villages. We continually
run aground, and spin like a top from one shore to the other, on
account of the north wind, which is blowing stronger and stronger:
the ashes of the burnt grass are carried up by the wind, and the
air all around is obscured by them. The river winds from N. towards
N.E., and at the corner on the right is a large pastoral village,
with several lowing herds; on the left, a tokul village, in which,
on account of the north and east wind, we do not see any of the oval
doors turned towards the Nile. A number of ugly and dirty women with
leather aprons, also boys, but no girls, stand collected there. Above
this women’s village a gohr disembogues from S.W. by S., and this is
the same arm of the Nile that Selim Capitan navigated for three hours,
above, near the Elliàbs, and found unfit for our voyage. We stop
at half-past nine o’clock at the lower end of the long pastoral
village extending along the shore. An old man seizes the rope by
which we have lately been pulled, and makes us understand that he
is going to kill some cows for us. We move on, however, for they
did not come before eleven o’clock, to N.W.
The village is called Dirèk, also Aderèk. Three natives were on
board our vessel: their felt morions were covered over and over
with sea-shells (_Cypræa moneta_), and the inside so entwined with
their hair, that they could not take them off without cutting off the
hair itself; therefore we could not persuade any of them to sell us
their caps. At last one man asked a large shellful of glass beads
for it. Another fellow was brought to Selim Capitan, but he would
not resign his morion for any price, and said that he purchased it
for eight cows, and that it came from the very distant country of
Kekèss. Hence it follows that there is a connection here with the
sea. Eleven o’clock; a little to N.E. by N. A quarter after eleven
o’clock, with a short bend to N.W. by W., and N. by E. In the angle
of this second sharp bend, on the left a small pastoral village;
then N.E. The reddish-colour of the ashes seems to arise from the
natural admixture of the clayey soil, as I convinced myself to-day,
when the men were piling together the dung of the herds. Half-past
eleven o’clock. From N.E. to N.W.: then a Nile arm shews itself
in the bend to E., and flows southerly. The smell of fire from the
black and scorched shores is very unpleasant, on which, however,
there are still green spots and tracts. The disrupt and higher old
shore stretches to the right, in a straight line to N.N.E., whilst
the present shore goes westerly. A quarter before twelve. In the bend
from W.N.W. to N.E. by N.: on the left shore a pastoral village,
with sleeping-places, or inclined reed-walls, turned towards W.,
and open at the top; small basket-huts and regular tokuls join,
having roofs indented, or rather in the form of steps.
I cannot yet get the negro Joï out of my mind, with his melancholy
melodies and Swiss home-sickness, which lasted for hours. The
sudden, wild outbreak of the passionate feelings of man in a state
of nature—the shouting of names, and the continual repetition of
them dying away with the voice—never, never have I heard a more
affecting _decrescendo_! Then again his rude speech and cries; and
then the songs, which I took for pastoral songs, and which in part
have the _very same melody_, with their softly humming and tremulous
key-note as the camel-songs of the Bisharis, heard throughout the
night in the desert, only that the former expressed the higher notes
more passionately, where his voice often broke, but always returned
again to the key-note. The calling individual names, by which his
heart turned even to his enemies the Elliàbs, bringing to mind his
misfortune in the dark cloudy night—every thing is still present
before me. I offered him glass beads; staccato and hoarse notes
alone were his answer. The Swiss style of singing is known in the
interior of Africa, as I previously ascertained from hearing the
young soldiers.
Twelve o’clock. From N.N.W. and N.W. by W. to N.W. The shores are
no longer mixed with sand, although there are lower imbenchings and
aggregations: on the left, a pastoral village, where we see, as usual,
a crowd of negroes. At half-past twelve o’clock, N.N.W.: we halt
at the right shore. They bring me small tubers, similar to potatoes,
and eaten like them; opposite to us a pastoral village. We bear off
again at a quarter before one o’clock. At one, from N. to N.W.:
on the left, a village with old tokuls. A very long watercourse lies
before us, and at the end of it, at two o’clock, a pastoral village,
in the form of an arch, and extending to some distance. We double a
short corner on the right, N.E. by N., near which we are regularly
fixed, owing to the strong north wind, which blows the spray like
drizzling rain. Thermometer, before sunrise 23°; noon 28°; now,
at two o’clock, 25°. At four o’clock we leave this promontory,
the wind having died away, and go N.N.E. and N. At a quarter before
five the wind gets up afresh; we go N.W. to the right shore, where we
shall remain perhaps the night. Thermometer, at four o’clock 25°,
sunset 24°, at eight o’clock 22°.
_18th February._ Yesterday evening lightning, which seemed to proceed
from distant regions. We might perhaps have heard the thunder,
had not the everlasting noise, which, day and night, stuns us in
the vessels, prevented us. The sky is quite clouded over, yet the
sun penetrates through. I had scarcely stood ten minutes at the
door of our cabin, before my clothes were quite damp, although no
mist had visibly fallen. We find here many of the before-mentioned
potato-like tubers, the foliage and tendrils being like those of
strawberries, but the leaf is not so rough. The tubers, which are
yet small, are level with the ground, like those I had seen before,
and I planted some specimens in sand. A quarter after six o’clock
we bore off to N.E. to the great vexation of the crew, who were
obliged to leave unslaughtered on the shore three beautiful oxen;
then with a short bend to S.E. by W. and immediately W.N.W. On the
left a pastoral village with lowing cattle, and before us a forest,
veiled by a blue vapour, moves from the right side into the monotonous
landscape. In the bend again to N.E. and N.N.E., where on the left
is a pastoral village, but without herds.
I cannot imagine when the natives drive their cattle in and out; for
I have at all times of the day seen the beasts tied up in the open
air, near the villages, and I have never noticed any fodder. Our
presence and their curiosity makes them, perhaps, careless in
attending to them.
Half-past seven o’clock. N.N.W., and with a short course to E.N.E,
where, on the left, a pastoral village lies behind the shore; then
we turn sharply to N.W., where, on the left, another pastoral village
appears; at this we wind to N.N.W. We have a gentle south-east wind,
and are afraid of rain.
Eight o’clock. From N.N.W. to N.W., by N. Some tokuls, with more
elevated tops, shew themselves on the right side, where the river
immediately goes to the right; and at the same moment a row of tokuls
of similar construction is discovered on the left, stretching in a
falcated form along the shore. The old tokuls have grooved roofs,
reed-walls from which the clay has fallen, oval doors, and some of
them with miserable reed-porches, and no sleeping-places. A pastoral
village follows, belonging, perhaps, to this winter or women’s
village. The Elliàbs inhabit both these villages; but few of them
shew themselves, and are called _Wièn_.
Half-past eight o’clock. From N.N.W. to N.N.E., and N. by W. Below,
a large village opens before us, which the vessels a-head leave to
the left. The island, which is merely young grass, floating on the
river, only rises gently above the stream. A quarter before nine
o’clock. At some distance from the right shore we see from the deck
a large pastoral village. Nine o’clock. W.N.W. The forest previously
remarked has not approached nearer to us. A quarter after nine, from
S.S.W. to S.E., where the wind, for a short space, is contrary to us;
then, on the right, to S.S.W.; but first we see two villages lying
somewhat up the country on the right side. We go E.N.E.
The south-east wind has freshened splendidly, and the log gives
five miles. The shores, although very low, are arid, and without
cultivation. Right and left are lakes, and near to the one on the
left a large village. Half-past nine o’clock; from E.N.E., a moment
to W.N.W.; on the point to the right, where the river bends N.W. by
W., an old tokul-village; on the left a lake, of half an hour long,
which is an ancient river-bed, as perhaps most of them are; therefore
the low shores divide them from us. A new forest before us, to which
we perhaps shall come. W. by N.: on the left a wretched hamlet with
mud-tokuls; but immediately afterwards a long row of regular tokuls,
whilst below a broad gohr enters the land about N.N.W., which makes,
therefore, these huts an island-city. The people shout and bawl to
us, as if we were old acquaintances: the ambak-trees are used here
for pallisadoes and screens. But few people are seen, and these only
old men and women. The island and village are both called Aquàk, and
this is the last possession of the Bunduriàls. On the right shore
the Tutuies follow, and the Keks on the left. About ten o’clock
we stop below this city of the Bunduriàls. In the middle of the
river a small island lies; level low country, with narrow pools, and
behind it the Haba lie opposite to us, about half an hour distant. I
despatch two servants to the village, to make some purchases, but
the women seize large pieces of ambak-wood, and will not allow them
to enter their harìm city.
Half-past twelve o’clock, off again to N.E., and immediately on the
right to E., where the violent east wind throws us, for amusement,
on the left shore. One o’clock, N.W., then soon E.N.E., and a
quarter before two, in the bend N.E. and N.N.W. From the deck, we
perceive two villages on both sides. Two o’clock, N. by E., in
the bend further to N.N.E.; on the left a pastoral village, then to
the left N.W. How it delights my heart to think that the favourable
south-east wind brings me every moment nearer to Khartùm—to my
brother! Half-past two, N. and N.W. by N.: a pastoral village at
the left; a quarter before three, N. by N.E., and round the left to
N.W. Three tokul villages in the country to the left. Three o’clock,
W.; on the left shore a pastoral village; before us, in the distance,
a forest. From the deck, I see behind the last-named village another
pastoral one. A quarter after three o’clock, with a short bend
to N.N.W., where a black tokul village, behind the shadow of heavy
clouds, looks like an old castle with several pinnacles, until the
latter disappear, and a row of forty-five tokuls is formed. A small
gohr enters below to N.N.W., which, as seen from the deck, widens,
and has a tokul-village in its neighbourhood. Another little gohr
to the left, from N. to N.E., connected with the preceding one,
leads probably to a lake, for the left shore hardly rises above
the river. The right and blackened shore is also scarcely four
feet high. A quarter before four o’clock, from N.W., in a bend
along reeds standing in water, which, being slightly rustled by the
south-east wind, strike leaves and sprout, such as I have not seen for
a long time: to N. where a long shining road extends before us. On
the right two islets, verdant like the new-born low country of the
right shore; another larger island joins the second for a few paces,
and a fresh one is united to it close to the shore, which appears
here again to be scorched. On the left some other green bushes of
reeds are standing, and behind them, we perceive from the deck a
tokul-village. Four o’clock; from N.W. to W. by N.; on the left a
pastoral village, and then N.N.W. The forest, about an hour distant
from the left shore, where a pastoral hamlet stands, stretches from
S. to W. To my joy, young reeds extend from the right corner, in a
long bend with the river to N.E.
Half-past four o’clock, again in a long bend from N.E. to N.N.E.,
N. and N.W to W.S.W., where we stop at five o’clock at the right
shore. A large lake lies at our side; behind it, another one is
incredibly enlivened by millions of birds, amongst which there are
several pelicans. I have never heard such a noise and fluttering of
flying birds, as I did here when on a shooting excursion. Thermometer,
before sunrise, 20°; noon, 27°; three o’clock, 29°; eight
o’clock in the evening, 24°.
_19th February._—We navigate, at seven o’clock, from N. on
the right, to N.E., and have soon to contend with a contrary north
wind. On the left we remark two of the narrow gohrs or natural canals,
serving, at high water, as channels to the lakes, from which they
are now disconnected. On the right, as yesterday at noon, Tutuies;
on the left, Kèks. A quarter before eight o’clock. From N. to
E. Here and there we see the negroes holding a stick, covered with
a skin of long hair, which appears to be a battle-standard; they
carry it always erect when they return from war.
Eight o’clock. N.W. On the left a long tokul-village of the Kèks,
with ambak-hedges, instead of the solitary little court-yards of the
houses; the sleeping-places open above, and plastered below. We no
longer perceive magazines erected on stakes: the people here never
seem to think of the morrow. On all sides uncultivated soil, and that
has been the case for some time. Nature must provide the necessary
bread-corn and other fruits, without any exertion of men, or the
people must live principally on the produce of the chase, and fishing.
Half-past eight o’clock. From N.W., with a short bend to S.E.,
yet only for a few paces; then again right round to N.N.W. We do not
remark that the water has fallen; it seems to be in its usual shallow
state. Young grass in the water at all the corners of the river
or shores, and also to the right of our bend. The marsh-regions,
with their noxious moisture and numerous glow-worms, are close
to us. Yesterday evening, the hollow sound of the drum foreboded
their approach.
Nine o’clock. To N.N.W. On the left a Haba, a quarter of an hour
distant. A quarter after nine o’clock. N.E.; and immediately
we double a flat green corner in the bend to S.W., and a very
short tract S., where there is a narrow pass. Half-past nine
o’clock. N.E. On the left a wretched hamlet, and a large lake
in its neighbourhood, with numerous birds, separated only a few
paces from us. Ten o’clock, N.; and to the left, round a green
half-moon, to W.S.W. Half-past ten o’clock. Again round a verdant
margin of the shore to the right, N.W. A quarter of an hour later
we halt about N.E.; and I accept Suliman Kashef’s invitation to
dinner. To my joy he talks a good deal of my brother. The Kèks have
brought some more teeth; but not one fell to my lot, in spite of all
my endeavours. About half-past one o’clock, we bear off again to
N. and N.E. The Elliàbs possess here also a tract, and likewise the
Kèks; the Tutuis dwell more up the country. Half-past one o’clock,
W.S.W.; then shortly S.W., and a quarter before two, to W., where
the Haba below seems to be close to the shore, and on the left side
it is scarcely half an hour distant; on the right a pastoral village.
Two o’clock, N.W. by W. On the right bank some men are employed
constructing a miserable pastoral village on old red ashes; behind I
see refreshing green grass, but that on the shore is either dried up
or burnt away. A second pastoral village is being erected immediately
on the right; the commencement of it consists here of solitary
sleeping-places: stakes, and heaps of ashes are lying about in large
quantities. The pasture seems to be a dried-up marsh-lake, as our
landing-place in the middle of the day also was, where gazelles and
elephants were sporting in the high grass on the still moist ground;
but I could not even get a shot at the former. A quarter after two
o’clock. On the left withered ambak, and the neighbouring forest
seems to approach to the shore; on the right a pastoral village,
and a long tokul-village joining it, with and without porches. Sale
jumped to my window, and shouted “Kawagi! tali barre, shuf uachet
fill fok el bah’r”! (“Master, come out, and look at an elephant
on the shore!”) “_Kawagi_,” properly speaking, being merchant,
and the title for every Frank; “_fok el bah’r_” means literally,
over the river. And the whole crew were all upon the move to see the
elephant. I went up also on the deck of our cabin, and perceived the
dark-grey monster, throwing first his trunk on the earth, and sending
up clouds of dust, and then lashing his body with it. A semicircle of
negroes were gradually approaching him, having spears in their hands;
but they fled from us, their best friends, when we landed. Suliman
Kashef soon opened a platoon fire, and I repaired immediately with
Sale in the direction of the elephant, who was looking around and
preparing to attack the crowd of people. The balls seldom whistled
by him, for the mark presented two large a volume to miss; and the
distance, short as it was, was diminished to a few steps by the
bloodthirsty circle surrounding him.
He extended his ears up and down like the opening of an umbrella, not
so much from pain, as from the balls raining on them, and sticking
in the ear-laps, as we found afterwards, having only penetrated one
skin. He was already blinded by the shots, for in elephant-hunts
they first aim at the eyes, and few missed, or else he would have
made his way to the Nile by instinct, to preserve himself for a
time. Suliman Kashef knelt down and sent another rifle-ball at his
orbits; he fell—the men rushed at him, but he rose once more, when
they all started back, tumbling one over the other to escape being
trodden under his feet. At last he sat on his hind-quarters, stretched
forth his fore-feet, and died in this half-standing posture. I could
not have shot him myself so close, for the blood running from his
eyes and numerous wounds moved my compassion too much to do so;
even Sale said to me, in a melancholy tone, “El messkin!”
(the poor creature). I ordered him to cut off the animal’s tail;
for the Kèks, to whom Suliman Kashef had presented the flesh, as a
set-off for the beautiful teeth, had already buried their knives in
his body. Sale hesitated a moment, because the awful sight of the
beast made him fear that it might possibly stand up again. Seven
spear-heads were found in the flesh under his skin, and he had swam
over with these sticking in him, from the opposite shore, where he
was first hunted. I had already embarked, when it struck me that the
foot of an elephant was considered a dainty, and I sent, therefore,
a servant to fetch me one; but he brought instead a large piece of
the ear, as a proof that he had really gone back, for the people of
this country seem to know what is good as well as the Europeans at
the Cape of Good Hope. Our black soldiers, however, had brought flesh
on board, which I afterwards tasted, but did not find very relishing.
[Illustration: MOUNT KOREK. MOUNTAIN CHAIN OF KAGELU. MOUNT KONNOBIH.
COUNTRY ON THE LEFT SHORE OF THE NILE FROM THE ISLAND OF TSHANKER
TOWARDS WEST. 27TH JANUARY, 1841.]
A quarter after five o’clock we leave the spot, and navigate to
N.W. by N. On the right a small encampment for cowherds; on the
left burning reed-straw. The leaves of the elephant-tree, which I
had placed in my window, have withered since the morning, though
from the 6th instant, therefore for thirteen days, they had been
exposed to the sun and air, and had not only remained fresh and
green, but also seemed to shoot forth vigorously, and even to grow,
whilst the fruits became every day more and more shrivelled. The
juice of the latter might, perhaps, have nourished the leaves by
returning to them; the stalk between the wood and the leaves being
injured by the wind blowing it against a nail, shewed plainly that
it had lost its sucker. A quarter before six o’clock, N. by W.;
close to the left a large lake; on the right a reed fire. We wheel
here on the left to the W.; the surface of the earth is very low
on the right and left; the lakes, therefore, are not all dry, but
considerable rain must fall to make them overflow, unless they have
auxiliary canals from the river. A tokul-village before us to the W.,
near which we shall perhaps stop, in consequence of the horizontal
smoke, and the smell of the meat connected therewith. A floating
island is at our side; the elephant may have torn it from the shore
in crossing. Six o’clock, W.S.W.; we ride at anchor in the middle
of the river, and have the village at our right. Thermometer, before
sunrise, 19°; noon, 27°; one o’clock, 28°; two o’clock 30″;
eight o’clock in the evening, 25°.
_20th February._—At 8 o’clock we navigate N.W.N. then N.N.W. A
quarter after eight o’clock. N.W. by W. We sail with a faint
north-east wind: to the right a pastoral village, to the left the
Haba, nearly a quarter of an hour distant; the shores low; then
N.W. by N., and again in the bend on the green margin of reeds to N.,
and on the left to W.N.W. Nine o’clock. We stop at the left shore,
for the strong north-east wind is contrary to us in our course from
N. to N.N.E. Five o’clock. The whole day I have been in bed, for I
became so ill this morning, shortly after our departure, that I could
not sit upright, and therefore I wished very much for wind and rest.
It is difficult to bargain with the blacks: they take the glass beads,
and the barter seems closed; but they immediately seize the goods
which they have already given us, and require more sug-sug. The
following circumstance happened to me, when I was a short distance
from the vessel with one of my servants. I had bought a large
elephant’s tooth, and a chief refused not only to return the beads,
but even tried, with his men, to take away the tooth from my lusty
cook, Sale Mohammed, by force, and to sell it again; whereupon I got
angry, and struck him on the face with the flat part of my hand:
he stood as if petrified, but afterwards went away without laying
a hand on me.
Although the wind is still contrary, we navigate, immediately after
five o’clock, with libàhn, to N.N.E. by the right shore. The
real cause of our departure arose from Thibaut having gone ahead, to
purchase ivory, which the Turks will not permit. We work to N. till
a quarter before six, and in a bend to W., where on the right is
a smoking pastoral village, with several small plastered summer
tokuls. We sail delightfully from N.W., to N.N.W., the wind being
favourable. A short tract to the left S.S.E. and then immediately
to the right, N.N.W. We see again vessels surrounded by reeds, where
we could not have supposed them to be. The river here seems to take
delight in tedious and disagreeable bends. We halt after sunset at
the right low shore, where, at some distance, I perceive an ambak
thicket; but I am too weak to fetch seeds, and my men immediately
jumped ashore with gun in hand. Thermometer, at sunset 27°; noon
29° to 30°; sunset 27°.
_21st February._—Half-past seven o’clock. From N.W. to N. and
N.W. by N.: on the right a considerable pastoral village with
larger tokuls, and plastered sleeping-places; the latter slightly
diminishing towards the top. Saw men stand near these summer tokuls,
the roof of which rises only a little, and on the average, their
heads are of an equal height with the tops of their huts, and some
even tower above them. We stop at a quarter before eight o’clock
between this pastoral and the succeeding women’s village, where
the river flows northerly, and wait for cattle to be killed. The
Kèks dwell on both shores, and the Tutuis up the country on the
right side, who live at peace with the former.
The winter-tokuls, or women’s huts, appear from the river far
higher than they really are, for they mostly stand on the slightly
elevated margin of the shore. After repeatedly measuring them, I find
that they are from eight to eleven feet high, including the lower
walls, which are always from three to three feet and a half. The
roof is in from five to nine uniform grooves, for the straw is
not sufficient for the length of the roof. The small tokuls of the
pastoral villages are, on the average, from six to seven feet high,
including their walls, which are four feet, or something more; those
of the sleeping-places are as high as the reeds themselves, namely,
about ten feet. To the great diversion of the crew, a young woman
here also wanted to drive us to the right side, because our vessel
lay at anchor before her harìm.
I watched a friendly-looking woman making a _burma_ (or cooking
apparatus), and putting the finishing stroke to it: she rounded the
outside of the earthen pot with water, and to get the little hoops
on it, she had a thick, strongly-twisted piece of packthread, of a
span in length, which she rolled over the smoothed places. As far
as I could learn from her, these vessels are made merely by hand,
although it might be supposed, from the beautiful large vessels
of the Shilluks, that a potter’s wheel was used. The people here
display as little friendly feeling towards us as those yesterday. I
manage to get, however, a thick fluted hassaia of ebony, besides
some small elephants’ teeth.
Ten o’clock. At last a miserable cow was presented to us, and we
proceed W.N.W., a quarter of an hour later, S.W., although only for
a very short tract, and immediately N.N.W. We continue to have on
the left, green reeds in the water; and the shore on the right is
scarcely two feet high.
Eleven o’clock. From N.W. to N.; in half an hour from S.E. and N.E.,
with a short bend in W.N.W. to S.S.W.; then on the right a short tract
N.E. by N., and again N.N.W. The shores are scarcely elevated above
the river, and therefore numerous lakes must be formed. I remarked,
yesterday, crown-rushes (_papyrus antiquorum_), which were still
green, as well as ambak-thickets, seeds of which plant I took this
morning; its leaves were already brown, and the tree itself in
a dying state: there were not any young shoots from the roots to
be seen, nor from the seed that had fallen in the preceding year;
the latter lies therefore a year, and perhaps till the next rainy
season, in the ground, and then during the time of high water,
springs up with incredible vigour to that height, which, upon this
slightly elevated ground, was only twenty feet; but in our ascent I
remarked it double that height on a low island in the river. Twelve
o’clock. From N., to the left N.W. On the right a pastoral village,
and immediately right to N. in a bend. The river is narrow, for the
grass has grown into it.
“Baùda, baùda!” the crew screamed the day before yesterday,—a
dreadful word, in truth. Hitherto we have only seen a few of these
horrible mosquitoes, but in their stead a quantity of other stinging
insects. From N. immediately to the left, W.N.W. and a short tract
N.W. by N. The north wind has been long contrary to us, but has not
been particularly prejudicial to our voyage. Half-past twelve—From
N.W. to W.N.W. and W; for a moment N., and in a short bend to S.S.W.,
where it winds to W. One o’clock.—About N.; a broad arm of the
Nile flows to W. We halt for a moment here by the island. About
S.E. by S., the mouth of another gohr going from E. is seen; it
discharges itself partly into the main stream to W., and partly
flows to S.W., and forms another island. The careless sailors have
allowed the vessels to be thrown into this arm of the Nile, and are
now working to come to the W. into the main river.
Half-past one. From W.N.W. left to S. Little ambak-woods on all
sides, but not having their fresh verdure; also crown-rushes, seeds
of which I have not yet been able to procure. A quarter before
two. From S. and S.W. to the right, shortly round to N.N.W. and
on to N.E. Two. From N.E. to the left round to N.N.W., then to the
right a few paces to N. A quarter after two. From N. and N. by E.:
on the right some negroes, who remain in a very quiet posture; to the
left W.N.W. Half-past two. W. by S., where we have a tolerably long
road before us, then W.S.W.; on the right a small summer village. A
quarter of an hour later N.E. by E. and N., and so in a bend further
to N.E. Three o’clock. From N.N.E. to N.N.W.; the low shores or
young water-reeds and ambak thickets still continue. We see even
now several reed-fires, but the people appear, since our absence,
to have burned the reeds very well, for a quantity of green grass
is seen sprouting up from the scorched soil. On again in a long
bend to W.S.W.; on the right a pastoral village with little tokuls,
having roofs more pointed; on the left also a similar one; then at
four o’clock, opposite the bend in N.W. at a little distance,
a large lake, and behind it the Haba. The natives sing a little,
but remain quietly sitting. A quarter after four, from N.N.W. to
the left towards W., then with a short bend to the right N.N.E.;
at this sharp corner a small pastoral village, near which we halt
at the right shore. About south from our landing-place a large lake,
where the river winds from N. to N.N.W. on the left shore immediately
behind the green reeds. The natives have all fled except one, who
remains close to us; probably the fame of our love for slaves has
preceded us. Thermometer, before sunrise 20°; noon and afternoon
28° to 30°; sunset 28°; eight o’clock 26°.
_22nd February._—We have waited since yesterday evening in vain
for Selim Capitan and Arnaud, who have struck into another arm of
the river. At nine o’clock this morning we see their mast at a
distance: they came up and we started at ten o’clock from hence,
where a large summer village is in the course of erection. We row
strenuously, for the north wind is contrary. From N. to. N.N.E.,
and at half-past ten to N. and N.N.E., and immediately to W.N.W. A
quarter before eleven E.N.E., and immediately N.N.W. Feïzulla
Capitan had epileptic attacks to-night again, perhaps arising from
the tension of the nerves of his fingers, for he has fabricated a
tow-rope for Suliman Kashef, and worked at it till late at night,
as he has done previously when engaged in sewing.
Eleven o’clock. From N.N.W. to N.N.E.; an arm of the Nile flows
in on the right—the very same one navigated by Selim Capitan and
Arnaud. To the right a pastoral village on the head-land; we put into
land near it. Two o’clock; we leave the place, for the natives will
not approach us. From N.N.W. immediately to N.N.E., and a quarter
of an hour later with a short curve to N.W. The negroes here wear
only narrow ivory rings. From N.W. to N.N.W., and at half-past two,
from N. in N.E. by E., to E. by N. The shores are either a green
margin of grass, encroaching on the water, or if they be dry, about
two feet high, and behind them are ambak-thickets, or crown-rushes,
striking leaves, or dying away, according as they are in low or
high ground. Three o’clock; further on in the bend to W.S.W.,
and again round the right to W. and N.W. by W. There is not a man,
house, hut, or cattle in these marshy regions, from which I myself
shall only be too glad to escape. A quarter after three o’clock,
N.N.W.; to the right a pastoral village: we really see human beings,
but they appear very listless, and even the women remain quietly
standing amongst them. Opposite, another village; also negroes, but
no herds. Half-past three, N.; on the right a pastoral village. We
proceed slowly N. by S., and N. by W., yet generally N.; and a quarter
before four, N.N.E. Here and there still there are floating islands;
with a short bend N.W., and N.W. by W. to W.N.W. On the right a
lake; and at four o’clock in a gentle bend to N.N.W., then round
a corner, N.N.E., and E. by S. but immediately again W.N.W. to
S. by W. Half-past four, W.S.W; on the right a pastoral village
smoking vigorously, yet we do not see any herds. A quarter before
five, from S. by W., shortly round N.N.W. to N., and to the left in
N.W. At five o’clock again to the right, N.N.W.; on the left hand
a pastoral village, from N.E., immediately N.N.E., N., and N.W.;
in a bend further on to S.S.W. Half-past five, from S.S.W. in W.,
W.S.W., where a small pastoral village appears on the right, to N.W.
For some days we have been without fowls and sheep on our vessels,
and we shall not, perhaps, procure any meat till we arrive at the
so-called, “Cannon place,” where the eighteen Nubas of Darfur
sought their way to freedom with only six guns. A quarter before
six o’clock from N.W., shortly round to W., and in a bend to
S. and S.E. by S. Six, S., and immediately in W.N.W to N., from
whence we navigate to the left round a corner. After six o’clock,
in a bend to S., and here again round a neck of land immediately to
N. Some trees, harbingers of a finer country, have shewn themselves
just now. A large lake secluded by palings, and perhaps, therefore,
subsequently furnishing the natives with fish, is noticed at about
fifty paces up the right shore. Here we make for land. Thermometer,
before sunrise 17°, noon 29 to 30°.
_23rd February._—We navigated this morning to the left shore,
whereon there is a scanty Haba, in order to fetch wood and make
observations. I walked to the neighbouring Haba, where I saw men in
nine fishing-boats, catching fish. The lake is from forty to fifty
paces in the low ground, where it stands on an equal level with the
Nile, and enclosed with ambak hedges, from W. to S.E. It is a remnant
of the primitive bed of the stream, perhaps itself a river-bed lately
deserted, and surrounded on one side by the old shores of the Haba,
which are here only five to six feet above the water, and form also
the ancient left shore. From what I could see, it is about three to
three and a half hours’ long, by two hundred to three hundred paces
broad. It seems to derive its water from the river, and to fill with
the latter, but also to supply a mass of water to it in the rainy
season. It winds to S.S.E. and appears to go still further eastward.
The Kèks live here very comfortably, merely on the fish they catch;
but with the exception of that, they are very poor. Yet they came
as proudly to us with two goats as if they had brought twenty fat
oxen. They do not seem to possess cows at all, and they may be
perhaps the Icthyophagi of the enclosed lake. However, we got seven
elephants’ teeth, the value of which they apparently did not know,
by the assistance of our interpreter. The Kèk women let the hair grow
a little: the lines on their forehead extend to behind their ears;
but they are fine, and frequently invisible on account of the dirt.
Front and back aprons, as usual; at times, however, we see the
little rahàt, or even the leathern apron over the rahàt, clearly
a luxury, which the wife of Làkono also indulged in. Besides this,
these women have a very _charming_ appearance owing to their chewing
tobacco. There is another couple of poor villages in the neighbourhood
of this place, and the men are said to have fled from it, taking
their oxen with them. A quarter before five o’clock we navigate at
last to the north: the Haba retreats immediately to a distance. On
the right a little pastoral village, from whence we receive the two
goats mentioned above. A quarter after five, to the left, N.W. by W.,
where there is a Haba; soon afterwards to the right N.N.W. The higher
shores have disappeared with the Haba. The whole surface is scarcely
two feet above the river. On the right young reeds and reed-grass.
At this moment our vessel received from below a tremendous shock:
the crew cry “Chamùss, chamàss!” and laugh; but they very
soon put on a serious countenance, for the bottom of the vessel
was already full of water. The barrels of gunpowder, grape-shot,
and cartridge-boxes were taken out, five signals of distress having
been first fired; and they were about to continue firing blank shot,
for the water rushed in as if a leak were sprung, when the bold reïs
Abdullah, a Kenùss (the reïs are generally all Kenùss, because
they are well acquainted with the cataracts), went under the vessel
with a ball of tow: this took place close to the shore, to which
we were not able to approach within ten paces, and where there was
still great depth and danger. The hole, however, was stopped by the
brave and incessant exertions of some sailors and soldiers. I myself
put out the fire on the hearth, and forbad smoking under the threat
of instantly shooting any one who did so; for I was to act, in the
absence of Feïzulla Capitan, as wokil: and at the same time I posted
sentinels. The vessels sailing a-head did not stop at the signals we
fired, although they were near enough to hear them; and we ourselves,
then, at half-past six o’clock, navigated to N.N.W. Subsequently we
go to the left, W.S.W., then to the right, where we halt, together
with the other vessels, immediately in the bend at the left shore,
at a former landing-place (matrag betal mutfa), after we had jostled
our beak-heads together in the usual unskilful manner.
_24th February._—Our vessel has a large hole, and we are obliged to
be drawn by the prow upon the sand: all the goods were removed, but
afterwards safely put on board. Sabatier makes the observations now,
and Arnaud is said to be employed with the calculations, for which,
therefore, we shall have to wait a long time. Several ostriches were
seen yesterday by my servants and Suliman Kashef’s body-guard,
without a single well-flavoured leg falling to our lot: they had
remarked, also, an ape the size of a large dog. I asked whether it
was a chirt, which species answers to our zoological ideas of the
cynocephalus and cercopithecus; but they assured me that it was an
abelènk, because it had a small head.
_25th February._—A quarter before seven o’clock, to N.N.E.,
and slowly, N.E. by E. The thermometer, since three in the morning,
at sunrise, has been but 17°; and did not rise from noon to three
o’clock, above 29°. In the evening we see the sun disappearing in
the dense atmosphere, which lies heavily on the whole of this country;
and this morning it rose either from behind the mist, or covered with
clouds. The evaporation from the neighbouring stagnant waters has
an injurious effect upon the health of the crew, and consequently
they are nearly all afflicted with a violent cough. The difference
between this region and the clear mountain air and pure water of
Bari is very great. The fogs here are seldom so thick as in Germany
or England: but they penetrate through the skin, which has become
sensitive from the heat, as, for example, this morning.
Seven o’clock.—N.N.W. On the left hand a large lake, close to us,
in the green reeds, connected perhaps with the river, and indisputably
an ancient bed of the river, cutting off the corner to the left,
which we shall hereafter double. Half-past seven o’clock. N.W. We
go till half-past eight o’clock in a northerly direction, and halt
in N.N.W. at the scorched right shore. This is here six feet high,
whilst, a hundred paces up the Nile, behind the young water-reeds,
no elevation of the shores is observed. We remark no strata of earth
on our shore, but clay and humus are closely mixed. At nine o’clock
we navigate further, without the lust of our crew for meat being
gratified, for the people seem to have driven away their goats,
and they have nothing else. N.N.E. The north-east wind slightly
retards our course. Half-past nine o’clock in a bend round the green
couch-grass, N.N.W.; a short tract N.W. by W., and round the right to
N.E., rowing strenuously; then, at a quarter before ten, to N.N.E. The
wind becomes stronger, and all the singing in the world will not help
us, if the river do not take a contrary direction, of which there is
some appearance. Ten o’clock. N.N.W. We sail five miles. N.W. and
W.N.W. A quarter after ten o’clock from W.N.W. in N. by W., where
we were obliged, unfortunately, to furl the sails. Immediately beyond
N. to N.N.E. Half past ten, N.N.W.; a quarter of an hour afterwards
W., and round a short, verdant grass corner, from E.N.E. to E.S.E.
The ants are of the greatest service here, for they throw up the
hills, which serve the people as watch-towers, from which they look
for their strayed friends and cattle. Half-past eleven o’clock. W.,
and immediately, in a short tract, to N.N.E., and also to N.N.W.,
and directly again to the right—slowly, owing to the contrary
wind. At twelve, N.E. by E. and E., where we halt at the right shore
of the reeds, to wait for Selim Capitan. Two o’clock.—Set off to
S.S.E. My men bring me three short-haired sheep in the sandal—a
thing now seldom met with—and a motley, decorated gourd-shell. A
quarter after two. From E. to the left, a short way to N.N.W.,
and again to the right N.N.E.; also, at half-past two, a few paces
to N. by W. and N.N.E. Immediately round a sharp grass-corner
S.S.E.; then, a quarter before three, in the bend beyond E. and
N. to N.W. by W.; on the right, up the country, a large village,
and W.S.W.; again a village in the neighbourhood. The river winds
to the right, W. We have hoisted already our fore and after-sail,
as if we had to go again N.E. with a contrary wind. In the bend to
N.N.W., on the right, a village upon a little hill, which I sketched;
then N. Half-past three. At the right a gohr, going to E., and then
S. N.W. We halt immediately at the right shore.
_26th February._—Departure at half-past eight o’clock, N.N.W. My
three sheep, which were in the meadow on the shore, ran away whilst my
men were cutting reeds, from which Venetian blinds are said to be made
in Khartùm. We sail with a south-west wind, and make five miles. A
quarter before nine o’clock, from N.W. to N.N.W. and W.N.W.;
again to N.W. Nine o’clock N., a small tract to N.E., and in the
bend shortly to N., when the sails are reefed. Half-past nine.—From
W.S.W., for a short time in W.N.W. and N.; some large hippopotami shew
themselves, and we begin now to fear for the vessel. We sail with
five miles’ rapidity. A quarter before ten o’clock, N.N.E. Some
negroes have just come to the left shore,—ashes their ornaments,
ashes their clothing. Ten o’clock.—For a moment to S.W. by W.,
and shortly round the green corner of the right shore to N.N.W. This
winding costs some trouble, for the wind blows the vessel right
round. Half-past ten, W.N.W.—Ambak being still green as it nearly
always is in this Holland kind of country, covers all the right side
at a slight distance from the shore: in a little bend to N.N.W.,
then round an obtuse corner, W. by S. A quarter before eleven W.,
and in a wide bend to E. Eleven. Likewise from E. to N.W., then
W.N.W. The shores are generally elevated only two feet above the
water, wherein a grass margin intrudes; behind, every thing is burnt
away, and therefore the ambaks are withered, unless they stand in a
protecting marsh. A quarter before twelve.—N.W. on the left hand,
a large and long-scattered village on a high tract, and a little
upwards a considerable lake, with a similar village, connected with
the Nile by a ditch. Natives squat on the shore and hold up their
hands. Twelve o’clock. To N. A quarter after twelve from N. by E.,
in a bend N.W. The lakes, which I generally take to be old beds of
the river, retaining water even in the dry season, are a proof that
the primitive stream has gone far deeper, and that even the present
bed of the river, with which they are partly connected, must have
risen as well as the whole country; because, had it been otherwise,
they would have ebbed away. Half past twelve.—From N.W. to N.,
N.N.E. and E. One o’clock.—S.E. in an arch to N., and round a
little corner to N.W.; on the right a tokul-village. Half-past one
o’clock N., and a quarter before two N.N.E., then on the left to
W.S.W., and on the right to N.N.W. and N. by E.; at two o’clock
further to N.N.E. and N.E. by E. A quarter after two, N.W. by N.;
on the right a broad river arm coming from S.S.E. From the mast they
tell me that it is a gohr cul-de-sac, and therefore an ancient bed
of the stream filled up from below. We halt at the right shore, for
Arnaud wants to survey it; but he lies down to sleep, and we bear off
again without having effected our object. At a quarter after three,
N.N.W., and directly round the right, E.N.E.; to the left a little
W., and then N.N.W. and N.N.E. Four o’clock.—Again N.N.W. and
W.S.W. The wind ceased even at noon; it had been of little service to
us. The floating islands of creepers are still the order of the day;
but not so large and numerous as in our ascent.
A quarter after four, W.N.W., in a flat arch to N. by W. The north
wind having now set in delays us exceedingly. Five o’clock, N.N.E.,
a long road before us. We go at six o’clock to the right shore,
where the river winds N.N.W. I go upon deck, but feel so enervated by
continually sitting, that I do not venture into the half-burnt high
grass on the shore, where our sentinels, as usual, have their posts
on the ant-hills, as a measure of precaution against the desertion of
the soldiers, as well as any sudden attack of the natives. Thermometer
at sunrise, 17°; noon, 29°; without getting up any higher.
_27th February._—At half-past seven we set ourselves in motion
to N.N.W., and soon N.W. Not a negro is to be seen here: the
country appears, even at a distance, to have no population or
settlement. Perhaps Nature thinks fit to give a long preparation to
these regions, in order to elevate the alluvial deposits for the
habitation of man, and to form the stream territory, and thus to
realise the principles of humidity; or all this land is subject to a
deluge, and tracts, which are now deserts, have become dry. Truly it
might be the work of thousands of years to dry up an inland sea, such
as that between the mountain terrace of Fàzogl, and the mountains of
Kordofàn, towards the sources of the White Stream,—to extend it,
with unknown ramifications, through the mountains of Bari to Habesch
and Darfur, or Fertit, &c., and at last to break down at the Nile
valley, near Khartùm, those barriers which display themselves there
in solitary rocky hills and mountains. Eight o’clock, from N.W. by
N. with a fair south-westerly wind to W. A quarter after eight,
W.N.W.; the wind freshens, and we make six miles. Half-past eight,
in a bend to N., and further to S.E. A quarter before nine o’clock
to N.W., and on to N.N.W.: on the right an isolated dhellèb in the
reeds. Nine o’clock, in a flat arch again to N. by E.: on the right
a village, with extremely low tokuls. On the left we remark another
elephant-tree, and at a quarter of an hour distant, on the right,
a forest. A quarter after nine o’clock.—N. by W. and E.: on the
right a lake, with a village, at a short distance from the shore. The
lake cuts off, near the Haba, that large angle formed by the river,
and belonging therefore to the primitive bed. The poison-trees make me
recognise that scanty forest where we landed previously. With a sharp
turn from E. over N. to W. by S., and immediately at half-past nine
o’clock, W.N.W., and further round an arch of reeds in narrow water
to E.N.E., where we stumble again upon the Haba. A quarter before ten,
we double a corner N.W. by N., and in a flat arch to W.; seven miles.
We land at the right shore near the solitary stunted trunks of trees,
which belong to a former forest. In the neighbourhood a large lake. A
little after ten, again from thence, N. by W., N. by E. to N.E. A
quarter after ten, to N., and then E. by N. Some fishermen’s tokuls
to the left on the low shore: neither men nor periàguas to be seen,
the former having probably fled. A quarter before eleven o’clock,
from E. to N.N.W. Eleven o’clock, to N. and N.N.E. Unfortunately
the wind has slightly slackened, yet we still make four miles. A
quarter after eleven, E., then to N. Half-past eleven, N.W.; further
W., when our sailing ends for some time, to W.S.W. A quarter before
twelve, from W.S.W. to N.W., when we sail again, and N. to N.E. by
E. On the left, some negroes in the reeds, who speak to us, but we do
not understand them. N.N.E., and immediately N. by E., and E. by S.;
on the left a miserable fishing-hamlet.
Twelve o’clock.—Round the left, in the bend, N., and further to
W.N.W., where a long water-tract lies before us. Half-past twelve:
N.W. from S., a broad gohr comes on the left of us, by which the river
is considerably widened. To N. and N.E., then N. by E.; and a quarter
before one o’clock, to the right, E.N.E., and directly to the left,
in the bend, N. and N.W. Half-past one, N.N.E. to E. then N. by
E. to N.W. by W. A quarter after two, N.N.W., and N. to W. by N.,
and again to N.N.W., and N.W. by N. Half-past two, N.N.E., and with
a short turn, a quarter before three, to W., and on to W.S.W. On the
left a large lake; then N.W. and N., and in the bend, to S.E. by E.;
gradually again to E.N.E. Half-past three, N.N.W., where we stop at
the scorched right shore. Subsequently we go to the left, where the
reeds are protected a little from the wind. Wonderful to relate,
I got in such a perspiration by bathing in the Nile, although at
first I could not move after it, that I was obliged to fly away from
the cold wind to the cabin, and even there to wrap myself up in the
barakàn (Herahn) folded four times thick.
_28th February._—At a quarter before eight, we navigate from
N.N.W. to N. On the right, several solitary large tokuls are to be
seen from the deck, and then N.N.W. Sale brought a crane of gigantic
size; but he had kept our vessel waiting for him half an hour,
although only this morning I had enjoined him to be attentive to the
roll of the drum, and the sails. To awaken his sense of discipline,
and as a warning for the negligent soldiers, I got Feïzulla Capitan
to give him some stripes over the hand, sparing him by this means
the disgrace of receiving this slight punishment from a subordinate
officer.
Eight o’clock.—N.W. A quarter of an hour later, from N.N.W. to
W.N.W. It blows a gentle south-west wind; but we are obliged still
to make use of the oars. Half-past eight o’clock.—From W.N.W.,
to N.N.W. and E. The air is thick, like yesterday; a heavy dew
falls, and neither sunrise nor sunset is perceived. A quarter after
nine o’clock.—From E., round the left, to W.N.W., where a large
scattered tokul-village lies on the right, and behind it a lake. The
Nuèhrs dwell here, and some of them come to Selim Capitan, when he
halts at the right shore, which they did not do on our ascent. We
proceed in a flat arch to N.E. The wind has freshened a little, and
the oars rest; we make five miles. A quarter before ten o’clock,
from N.N.E. to W. Ten o’clock, with a short turn, to N.N.E. A
quarter after ten, in a small bend, to W.S.W., where we are obliged,
unfortunately, to furl the sails, to S. by E. A quarter before
eleven.—Shortly round to S.W. and S.S.W. Eleven.—To the right;
very shortly round to W.N.W., and the sails spread, to the joy of
all who wish to push forward and see their friends; but directly
again to the left, S.; on the right, hamlets, with men. A quarter
after eleven. At the left a small lake in the river, formed by other
tributaries. We go W.N.W., and land at the left shore.
CHAPTER VIII.
NUÈHRS. — ORNAMENTS. — MANNERS OF THE WOMEN. — THE MEN. —
CURIOUS CUSTOM OF DRESSING THE HAIR, AND STAINING THEMSELVES. —
VISIT OF A CHIEF. — SPEARS USED INSTEAD OF KNIVES. — SINGULAR
WAY OF MAKING ATONEMENT, ETC. — WE HEAR ACCOUNTS OF OUR BLACK
DESERTERS. — BOWS AND QUIVERS SIMILAR TO THOSE REPRESENTED IN THE
HIEROGLYPHICS. — THE TURKS INDULGENT IN ONE RESPECT. — MOUNT
TICKEM OR MORRE. — TRACES OF ANIMAL-WORSHIP AMONG THE NUÈHRS. —
ARNAUD’S CIRCUMNAVIGATION OF A LAKE, AND GASCONADES. — ADVICE
TO FUTURE TRAVELLERS ON THE WHITE NILE. — SWALLOWS. — MEANS OF
DEFENCE AGAINST GNATS DISCOVERED. — THE SHILLUKS AGAIN. — QUESTION
OF THE CONTINUAL ALTERATIONS IN THE APPEARANCE OF THE NILE. —
GUINEA-FOWLS. — GIRAFFES. — BLACK WASPS. — TURTLE-DOVES. —
OUR AUTHOR CAUGHT IN A THORN-BUSH. — FABLED LUXURIANCE OF THE
PLANTS IN THE TROPICAL REGIONS. — VIEW FROM A HILL. — MANNER
OF CATCHING FISH AMONG THE NATIVES. — THE SOBÀT RIVER. — THE
INUNDATIONS OF THE NILE CONSIDERED.
1st March.—The Nuèhrs are afraid of us, on the whole, yet they
brought us, yesterday, one of their bracelets. We shall remain here
to-day till the afternoon; for, although we arrived yesterday before
mid-day, yet nothing has been done by the gentlemen engineers, and
every minute appears to me lost that we are on shore, for there is
no village there. I made a short shooting excursion this morning
with Sale, and shot two _karawans_. I approached the side where the
little bay is formed in the river, in order to examine it closer. I
arrived through burnt reeds at an ambak-thicket, and came here upon
thick half-burnt reeds, whilst the ground was very swampy; and then
I pursued a bird unknown to me, close to the margin of a small lake,
bordered by ambaks. I ought to be thankful that I was able to find
the right road with my black feet over stalks of reeds which were
trodden down, and to get out at last from the dangerous path.
Nuèhrs are scattered on all sides; but the men did not venture
near the vessels. The women, on the contrary, were excessively
talkative. They _would_ see the vessels, and it was with them we
transacted business and bargained for durra and tobacco. They have
shaven heads, and the young women, notwithstanding this disadvantage,
do not appear ugly. They have a very small hole bored through
the flesh, between the nose and upper lip, in which we remark a
thin blade of straw, or a small stick, to prevent it closing; or
they put in it a needle, ornamented with a glass bead, extending
slightly beyond the end of the nose: kissing, therefore, must be
very difficult, if it happen to be the custom here. The whole rim
of the ear is also pierced through, and from want of glass beads
or other ornament, we perceive a little piece of wood in it. There
are no lines on their forehead; front and back leather aprons are
slung round the hips, or simply a rahàt, made of the narrow slips
of dome-palm leaves. Here and there an ivory necklace, or strips
of bark are seen, and around the neck a few miserable glass beads:
these are the only ornaments which the poor women possess. Although
I gave them some glass beads, at their humble request, yet their
modesty was so excessive, that not one of them would sell me her
rahàt. They carry the small baskets, containing durra and tobacco,
on their heads, with considerable dexterity, as is common on the
White River. The women, in these countries, have no voice in the
public assemblies, and therefore they make up for it by talking
whenever they get the opportunity—a natural wish for emancipation!
The men here and there have interesting physiognomies, and which are
particularly improved by the hair being worn in a natural manner:
it is mostly one and a half to two spans long, but sometimes cut
short. Their red colour—which is here of a fiery red—seems to be
the favourite national colour. Our men thought it was natural; but
I discovered, from many of these men, that they stain themselves
artificially. At first, I believed that they wore a coiffure,
similar to a wig; but I soon found that they had tied up the long
hair behind into a thick tuft, and plastered over the whole head
with a strong coating of ashes and an alloy of clay, which has the
same effect as the _hennah_ of the Turkish old women, who prefer
to have red rather than grey hair. We laugh at seeing these stiff
and dirty perukes, and yet our periwig-mania has only of late years
been defunct; whilst, even now, the highly-civilized English still
wear the full-bottomed wigs, and seem to think that a quantity of
powder, long, stiff body-coats, and loose gaiters, are essential for
their young servants. We perceive, upon the very projecting forehead
of the Nuèhrs, six horizontal lines, more or less elevated: they
wear well-worked bracelets, narrow, but thick, with a sharp edge,
the best of which I bought, and amongst them a thin one, adapted to
the form of the upper part of the arm, above the elbow. They have,
besides, very frequently, iron rings on the wrist, and a species of
battle-ring, having several tongues, similar to those I saw above,
and the points of which are covered with little pieces of wood in time
of peace. They adorn their ears with a bead, or a red copper ring,
like the natives of the country below Bari. The _aures perforatæ_
are not, therefore, here a sign of slavery, as with most other
people. I saw no weapons, except their artfully-constructed bows;
for they told us previously that they would not bring any arms to the
vessels, so that there might not be schammata (strife). I was present
when the Sheikh of the right side of the shore, who had brought some
cows, was clothed by Selim Capitan. He expressed great joy when the
beads were shewn him, but he would not have anything to do with the
white or the black maccaroni, although there were gold ones between
them. He said “arràd” (bad), and returned them.
His name was Lunjòk, and his village lies at a distance from the
shore. His father is a sheikh on the left shore, but the inhabitants
of both sides, although they are all Nuèhrs, are continually at
war with one another, which he seemed to deplore. They must possess
arms, because they make war against the Shilluks and the Kèks,
and are generally successful, although they do not boast of it. Most
of their villages lie on lakes or gohrs up the country. We saw here
also three hamlets lying in ruins, on which I walked, and where even
the reeds were torn away. I plainly saw that the place where these
villages stood must have been heightened by the destroyed mud-walls.
The men wear small white beads round their necks, which are said to
come from Pamm, in the country of the Dinkas: they do not themselves
slaughter any cattle, as we were told, but eat animals slain by
others, or those that die a natural death. They have not a supreme
master, or Sultan.
Yesterday evening, we remarked a large circle of fires and solitary
dhellèbs around us, denoting that the villages of the Nuèhrs were
near at hand. I got to-day a curious head-dress, of leather and
goats’ tails; we see here also those mussels (_Cypræa moneta_),
which I have mentioned before, used as an ornament. We have never
observed knives since we left Làkono’s country: spears seem to
be used instead of them, and therefore we found them frequently
worn away and useless, and not fastened by a nail to the shaft. Our
black soldiers make use of the spears they have purchased, instead
of knives; and, moreover, the Nubian two-edged knife, and that of
Kordofàn, still retain the form of a spear. The bull, as the creator
and support of the herds, must be honoured and esteemed here, for
the rings worn by the tribes on the wrists, from hence to Berri,
are everywhere decorated with little iron horns, and the natives
imitate immediately the lowing of cattle, when we look at the rings.
A very _charming_ custom of these tribes came to light during our
barter with them. My servant Fadl had purchased articles, as he had
often done before, and given some in exchange, when subsequently
they demanded that the rings should be returned, which he would
not consent to. A negro tore the flesh of his arm with a spear,
so that the blood spurted out; but no sooner did he see this, than
he spat upon the injured place, and begged pardon by gestures. The
spitting in the hand is not perhaps meant, in the upper countries,
as a mode of greeting or particular distinction, but rather as a
kind of apology, or to exorcise the spirit of anger.
Suliman Kashef was even fortunate enough to receive such a secretion
on his head, as a sign of respect, which made him put on a grim
countenance. The people seem generally to make use of this spitting
custom for the purpose of exorcising evil spirits: we find something
analogous to this in the so-called “evil eye” of the South of
Europe, namely, of Italy and Greece. Our deserters, we learn, passed
here only yesterday; the Nuèhrs would have robbed them, as the women
told the little Dinkaui in my presence; but the latter shot some
of the Nuèhrs (the women said _several_), and then crossed to the
right side of the river. The Nuèhrs themselves had perhaps killed a
few, but were frightened that we should take revenge, and pretended
therefore that they had treated them peacefully. The poor men will
have a great deal to suffer in their journey to their distant home.
Half-past three o’clock.—We proceed to N. The gentle south-east
wind is at our back, so that it is very hot. Four o’clock.—A short
tract to N.E.; on the right a wretched hamlet, to N.W. and W., W.S.W.:
green shore but low; ambaks, and some trees with thick foliage at
our left. A quarter after four o’clock, N.W. to N.E. by N. Solitary
elephant-trees, poison-trees, of larger height than we had yet seen,
àschurs, young dome-palms, and soon a Haba on the left shore, which
is elevated therefore higher than usual. Negroes and women greet us
in vain from the left side. Half-past five o’clock. N.E. by E.,
in a bend to N.W. and W.N.W.; then immediately N. by E. Just after
six o’clock, we come to N.E. by E., and go over to the right
shore. Thermometer, at sunrise, 28°; noon, 28°. Half-past three
o’clock, 31°; sun-set, 28°.
_2nd March._—A quarter before seven, to N. by W., then N.W.; and
at seven o’clock, N.E., E.N.E., and N.E. by E. I cannot describe
the agony we suffered from the gnats; my head is so heavy that
it has become quite a useless member of my body. A quarter before
eight, further to E.; and at eight o’clock, to the left, N. On
the right, in this bend, a village, the negroes standing on their
ant-watch-towers. The south-east wind is favourable; the negroes
sing the usual old melodies, but cease directly, when they see the
vessels sailing past, without noticing their song of welcome. The
wind freshens, and the sky becomes cloudy: it looks like rain,
and yesterday evening we perceived a storm in the distance.
Our deck being in such bad condition, will afford us, in truth,
but little protection. Five miles. From N. in the bend to N.W.,
then right round at a quarter after eight to N., N.E. and E., where
we furl the sails, and immediately to E.S.E. Luckily this last tract
is not long, and the wind may soon help us out of these abominable
regions of mosquitoes. But unfortunately now, it is contrary to us,
and masters the oars so that we are obliged to go libàhn, and land
at half past eight at the left shore, for the Kaiàss has remained
behind. A little village is seen here, and now goes on the pulling of
rings off the arms, so that the bones crack again, and the natives
even break them in two on the arm, merely to procure sug-sug. I get
here, besides other things, a bow, such as those already described,
a rahàt of palm-leaves, and a club with a knob, almost the same as
we have seen up to Bari.
The red copper earrings, which perhaps come from Berri, do not
seem to be of any particular value; for they take them out of their
ears when we ask for them. The men also, when they have no ivory,
wear strips of leather, or of bark, round their necks and arms,
such as are usual in all the regions of the White Nile.
The hair combed back, and not entirely reddish here, but retaining
its natural black colour, gives the head an European look, and
particularly so, because it is not woolly, although curly. This
remarkable circumstance speaks in favour of the immigration of
another race, as I have formerly alluded to. And this supposition
becomes still more confirmed when we observe the greater neatness
and durability of their tokuls, which are entirely dissimilar to
those in Sennaar; so also their household utensils, and even the
form of their bows and quivers, which are similar to those seen on
the hieroglyphics, shew that they are either in a much higher grade
of cultivation, or have outstripped considerably in civilisation
the neighbouring tribes.
A quarter before twelve o’clock. Further to N.N.E. and N.N.W. We
sail six miles in the hour, and shall escape, perhaps, the rain,
which has announced itself by some drops; but we are obliged to reef
the sails, owing to the other vessels being behind.
A quarter after twelve.—N.N.E. to N.E. by E., a short tract; then
in a bend, N. to W., and at last, with a short bend, to E. Half-past
twelve.—From E.N.E., in a wide bend, to W.N.W.; but immediately
again in a bend, N.N.W. We hoist again the sails. N., and on to
N.E.—E. by S.
Nothing but green aquatic-grass on the shore, and although the
singing, bawling, and shouting on the vessels gives life to the scene,
yet all at last turns to dull monotony. Illness and fatigue make me
wish to rest a little, but I keep up in order to attain the aim I have
in view. The wind has changed to south, perhaps for our benefit. One
o’clock.—From E. by S., where a dhellèb appears on the right to
N.N.E., E.N.E., and N.W. by N. Two o’clock.—E.N.E. to E. Half-past
two.—N. to N.W., on the right a little village behind the reeds;
further to S.W., and then with a short bend W. I see blooming ambaks
at the left, and shall be able perhaps to gather again some of its
flowers, and also the little duck-meat: the double lotus is there,
but I have already seeds and tubers of that plant. The first group
of dhellèb-palms is a welcome sight before us, for hitherto we have
only seen solitary ones. A quarter before three, N.N.W. There are now
thirteen dhellèb-palms at the most on our left. On we go,—I think
we shall return to these dhellèbs—to E.N.E. and E.; a blooming
ambak-thicket at our right. Three o’clock. From E. shortly round
to W.N.W. On the right we remark negroes. The wind is certainly not
so strong as previously, yet we make five miles more. Now at the
right a badly-built hamlet, which contains tokuls with oval doors,
and depressed and badly formed roofs plastered at the top with clay:
soon afterwards, at the same side, another hamlet in the very same
style. Perhaps both these villages contain summer tokuls, to judge
from the miserable roofs of the huts, which do not keep off the
rain. A quarter after three. From N.W. by W. to N. The wind has
already slackened, but it appears again to think better of it, or
we should have to expect the troublesome visit of gnats. Half-past
three o’clock.—From N. by E. to N. Four o’clock.—N.W. and
further in a flat arch to W. by S. Half-past four to five, W. to
N. The sun sinks in a mist. At the right shore, where the reeds are
burnt away, we notice a giraffe (saràff), and Suliman Kashef sends
his halberdiers in pursuit of it.
_3rd March._—We navigate a quarter after six o’clock from the
middle of the river, wherein we cast anchor last night to N.N.W.,
then a little to N. and W., where a hamlet lies on the right to
W.N.W. A quarter before seven o’clock.—W.N.W.; a slight S.E. wind
gets up. Seven o’clock.—N.E. by E.,on the right some new summer
tokuls; to E. and a quarter of an hour afterwards to N.E. by E. The
oars rest, and we sail very slowly with the gentle wind, the river
having a trifling fall. A long course is before us and the wind
freshens immediately, so that we make four miles. On the left a
village at the distance. A quarter after eight.—N.N.E., N. and
N.N.W., a poor fishing village at the left. A quarter before nine,
to W.N.W., the wind still better; five miles. A quarter after nine,
to W.; on the left several large tokuls up the country; again to
W.N.W. and then N. by W. A narrow gohr comes on the left from the
reeds S.S.W.; the whole marsh-region here is in endless connection
with the river, visibly and invisibly, by open canals and reeds. On
the right a hamlet. Half-past nine o’clock, N.W. Smoke or mist
extends before us, making the vessels a-head appear as if they were
in an extensive and elevated sea.
A quarter of an hour ago we had six miles and now six miles and
a half. A row of solitary and very large tokuls continues on our
left. The villages, properly speaking, of the Nuèhrs, are half or
three quarters of an hour from the river. The smoke just mentioned
comes from the tokuls I have described, as the smell of burning
tells us. From N.W. to N.N.W. and N.; and at ten o’clock on
to N.E. and E.N.E. We leave a rush and grass island of about ten
minutes long in the middle of the river. A quarter after ten, N.E.,
N. and N.W., and so quickly that it is quite delightful: we make
seven miles. Half-past ten o’clock.—We double half-dried ambaks,
which still display flowers. To N.N.W., N.E. by E., then shortly to
N.W. and N.W. by W. On the right some negroes standing by their boats:
they shout to us, but we wont hear. A quarter before eleven. From
N.W. to N.N.W., N. and N.N.E. we have a long course before us, with
slight declinations to N. by E. There are no elevations of the shores
either right or left; merely aquatic reeds: behind, here and there,
the surface of the earth is dry, and there are a few ant-hills with
parched grass or a reed-hut. Eleven o’clock.—With a short bend
N., we make eight miles: to N.W. and soon to N. On the left some
wretched reed-tokuls, and negroes, the women standing upon a mound
and singing. Further to the right N.N.E. Half-past eleven. Shortly
to the left, round N.N.W. and W.N.W. then immediately to N. and
N.N.E.—A quarter before twelve o’clock, still N.N.E. and then N.
The Turks have one magnanimous custom, despotic as they are in
other respects. If the master call and the servant answer boldly,
“I am eating,” he need not come; so if the former say, “Call me
such a one,” and his messenger comes back with the report that the
man he wants is asleep, the master lets him quietly take his siesta
whatever hour of the day it may be. Twelve o’clock.—N.N.E. and
immediately N.E., then N.N.W. and again N. A quarter after twelve
to N. by W. and N.W., when we turn to N.W. by N.; then we go in a
regular bend N.E. to N.E. by E. A quarter before one.—N.W. by N.,
and at one, to N.E. by N. We have just saved a Dellàhl (crier at the
sale of slaves and public auctions), the Abu Haschis of the Kaïass,
who jumped into the water to seize a large dead fish, notwithstanding
we were sailing quickly. With a few exceptions we still continue
to make eight miles. Nothing but aquatic reeds and crown-rushes;
very few high reeds, and these beyond the reach of the water.
I will now repeat my journal word for word, in order to give the
reader an exact description of the labyrinths of the river. I have
hitherto partly avoided the detailed description of the windings,
so as not to be wearisome by constantly repeating the same thing;
and these, moreover, are shewn in the map which was composed on the
groundwork of my journal, and which accompanies this work.
A quarter after one.—From N. in a bend to the left, N.N.E.,
and then again right round in an arch, where the south-east wind
may be contrary to us; N.E. with a short turn to E.N.E., and on to
E.S.E. The sails can work, for the wind graciously continues and
blows in S. Half-past one.—From E.S.E., shortly round the left to
N.N.E. and N.; we furl the sails in order to wait for the vessels
behind. Two o’clock.—In the bend S.E. and E., where a tolerable
course displays itself, and we again draw in the sails. A large
hippopotamus snorts at the side of the vessel, and no one laughs at
it, for we have learned to know already that the proximity of these
ship-stormers is dangerous. A quarter after two. To the left in the
bend, E.N.E.; we sweep by on the reeds like lightning, N.N.E. to N. by
E., then in a flat arch to the right, N.N.E., which bends still more
to E., E.N.E., and S.E. We saw several black birds both yesterday
and to-day, called gatàff by the Arabs,—a species of water-hen,
which flew over the ships in swarms till late in the evening, and
uttered a piercing cry.
A quarter before three, from S.E., left to N. by E., and right,
N.N.E.; four miles, with a slack wind. Three o’clock, from N.N.E.,
shortly round the right; a small island at the left, with reed-grass,
crown-rushes, and blooming ambàks. To E., where a tolerable road
opens before us; then to the left, E.N.E. Course three miles and
a half; but the cloudy sky forbodes a squall, yet it may blow off,
as it has done on other days.
Half-past three; from E.N.E. to the left, in a bend N., and N. by
W.: a road before us, then to the right: make again five miles—in
the bend, N.N.W. A quarter before four, on and on slowly to the
right, N.E. On the right a large lake, which is connected with
the river by a wide mouth; several negroes standing there, but
no tokuls to be seen. Four o’clock, N.N.E., then to the left,
with a small declination to N. by E., and then to the right; three
miles rapidity—E.N.E.
Half-past four.—To the right E., and straightforward, with small
inlets, further to E. by N., five miles. The wind blows fresher. Five
o’clock, from E. to the left, shortly round N.N.E., to N. by
W. Half-past five.—From N. to the right N.N.E., still there are
no shores, no burnt tracts of land. A quarter before six.—From
E.N.E. to the left N.E., where we anchor in the middle of the river. A
little lake, Haba, and the isolated tree to the right.
_4th March._—Departure at half-past six o’clock, from N.E. to
N. by E. A quarter before seven, in a flat arch on the right, to
N.N.E. Hitherto, not any wind, and perhaps not much hope that there
will be, for the day is clearer than usual, although it blows a
little from the west. The west wind only brings rain now and then to
the land here. Seven o’clock, from E.N.E., round the left N.W.;
on the right the “Village of War,” so called by the crew,
on account of the cruelty exercised previously on the natives,
and which I have already related.
Half-past eight; from N.W., on the left two little islets follow one
another, to N.N.W. A quarter before nine; the vessels come behind us,
the south-west wind gets up a little, and we sail therefore on to
N.; three miles; N.E. by E. Selim Capitan says we made sixty-five
miles yesterday, and thirty-five more to-day, in the direction of
the lake of the Bahr-el-Gasàll. Nine o’clock, from N.N.E.; a
little island in the bend, to the left N. and N.N.W., then in a flat
arch to N.N.E. Half-past nine, N. by W.; the wind freshens for five
miles, N. and in the bend, on to N.N.W., where we are unfortunately
obliged to furl the sails, owing to the strong north-west wind
which has set in. A quarter before ten: we go N.W.; the wind becomes
fresher; it seems inclined to be contrary to us the whole day, and
we have enough to do to stand against it. A quarter after ten; W.,
and slowly to N.W., then right round to N., where we spread sails,
after the wind had changed magnificently to the west, and perhaps
will go again to S.W.—five miles. Eleven o’clock; from N. by E.,
in a bend to N. by W., in a long bend N.N.E., then shortly round the
right. Half-past eleven, to S.E. by E.; afterwards in the arch to
E.N.E., with six miles, and on to N.E. and N.N.E. Twelve o’clock;
from N.N.E., a jump to the right, N.E. by N., then in the bend to
N., and again N. by E., and a little to the left, N. One o’clock,
N.N.E., and further to N.E. Half-past one; to N.N.E., and again in
a flat arch to N.E. and E., to E. by S. Two o’clock, E.N.E.
The neighbouring ambak bushes approach us in these windings,
and make the shores less monotonous; yet it does not last long,
and we see again only grass, water, and sky. Half-past two, N.E.;
a quarter before three, N.E. by E. We see from the deck a high
mountain to N.N.E. at the distance. It must be the so-called Tickem,
or the Morre, as Marian now says more correctly. The people have no
end of joy at seeing this mountain, for they consider it to be the
finger-post to Khartùm, and they are looking for the dome-palms
now as another sign. Three o’clock.—From E.N.E. to E.; then,
with the slightest bend, to N. The marsh-land is from a few inches
to half a foot high, on dry ground; there are some ant-castles on
it, and water-reeds and solitary ambak-bushes on the left. A little
forward to the N., and the so-called Gazelle River rushes with great
force close before us. Unfortunately, this is another pretext for
the gentlemen engineers to stop—yet uselessly—whilst we ought
to make good way with the favourable wind, in order to follow the
Sobàt further. We go also immediately to the right marsh-reeds, as
usual to collect gnats for the night. The Nuèhrs love their cattle,
and, like children who won’t have their pigeons and rabbits killed,
are excessively delighted at watching their growth and increase. We
see not only from this that these people do not kill the animals
for eating, but also from the manner in which they decorate the
beasts, insomuch as they put on them broad necklaces, covered with
little conical bells. The necklaces are of iron, and, as this metal
is very rare amongst the Nuèhrs, they seem to take more pleasure
in manufacturing ornaments than arms, though the latter are of the
first and highest importance to a people living in a state of nature;
yet they may, nevertheless, be richly provided with them, and do
not wish to display their warlike side to us, for we have lost their
confidence by the barbarous conduct of the first expedition. A closer
investigation of this nation might give interesting results: their
curly, not woolly hair, the antique form of their bows and quivers,
their war-caps, similar to those of the Egyptians, and their worship
of animals, would serve as a very instructive guide in the Ethiopian
labyrinth of history.
_5th March._—Nothing done, unfortunately, by the engineers:
I myself could not land, owing to the marsh-reeds.
_6th March._—Dined with Selim Capitan, where Arnaud had a fit of
indigestion, from having eaten too many futir (tarts).
_7th March._—At last Arnaud went in the sandal to circumnavigate
the lake, without saying a word to any one of his intention, because
he means to pretend that he has seen everything, and to impose on the
Basha by a large bakshis. This lake is said to make a great figure on
his map, which he must have got others to compose for him at Paris,
because he himself is not capable of doing it, as Sabatier expressly
declared. Yet he was so close to us all the time he was navigating it,
that we never lost him out of our sight. He wished also to investigate
the Gazelle River by himself, but he was afraid of remaining with the
sandal in the reeds at night, where he might have become a victim to
gnats or other monsters. The Bach’r el Gasàll does _not_ display
at this time of the year _any_ fall, nor does the Nile here in the
lake, although the breadth of its stream is clearly distinguished
from the bluish water of the latter by its muddy colour. The lake
has fallen about a foot since our ascent, of which we have plain
proof by our shore. There is want of wood on board the vessels,
because the crew have kept up a clear fire every night to drive
away the gnats, without even giving a thought that the smoke alone
has that effect. With respect to this abominable brood of insects,
I earnestly advise all future travellers to provide themselves with
a musquito-net (Arabic, nammusië, from nammùs, gnat) if they wish
to escape the torments of hell, and to preserve their health and
perhaps their life. I myself shall be grateful to God if I only
remain strong enough to continue and end my journal as accurately
and faithfully as hitherto; so that by its means I may correct the
maps which may be published subsequently, and particularly with
regard to the numerous windings and bends of the river itself,
which can only be followed by the strictest attention.
_8th March._—Arnaud again to-day kept his intention very secretly,
and navigated the Delta before the Gazelle River—a famous
opportunity for relating anecdotes of continual adventures and
hippopotami-hunts. He really does gasconade too much: for example,
he states, quite at random, in the presence of Sabatier, the number
of miles he has navigated the last two days, although he has never
cast out the log; whereupon Selim Capitan laughs in his face. Arnaud
never scruples either to ask for anything that pleases him. “Son
Altesse,” serves always as his excuse, as if he were collecting
_only_ for Mohammed Ali. At half-past ten o’clock a few drops
of rain fell. M. Arnaud having returned from his great voyage of
discovery, we sail out of the lake E.S.E. The weather seems about
to clear up immediately, although the sun casts a certain watery
gleam of light on the marsh-grass that we cannot trust.
It thunders, and we go with a west-wind right into the dark
clouds. Half-past eleven o’clock, the rain has fortunately come on;
the wind has changed from W. to N.E., and we go with oars again to
E.N.E. A quarter before twelve, the wind blows freshly on the right
shore of the reeds, where we make a whirl again, because the crew
are tired out by their sleepless nights. Drops of rain only are
falling, but the pell-mell confusion in which the vessels navigate
is enough to drive one to despair: no taking to the oars—no wish
to do anything—no command—the tailor-captain is sitting at
his handy-work.
The shores are, or form, short reeds and grass standing in the
water. Twelve o’clock; to E. Half-past twelve; S.S.E. One o’clock;
E. by S., a large lake to the right, scarcely separated from us. Two
o’clock; with a trifling declination left to S., and in a flat arch,
E.S.E. The wind has changed to the south, and we sail a little—two
miles. However we see showers of rain pouring down nearly all round
us, and it will be fortunate if we escape them, for where could we fly
to to preserve ourselves from the rain which soaks through in these
regions? Half past three o’clock; from S.E., with a few deviations
to E. by N.: we make four miles, for the wind has settled in south
west, whereby a few drops of rain sprinkle us from the right side,
and we go then directly a short tract N.N.E., leaving behind us a
_large_ floating-island, very rare here in comparison with the small
ones. A quarter before four; with a short bend to E.S.E. and E., then
from E.S.E.; on the right here a large lake; immediately at a quarter
after four to S.E. by S., and on the left to E.S.E. and E. by N.
The rain is like that of a German May. On the right shore, a somewhat
scanty forest, where we halt, at a quarter to five, on account of
want of wood; at five, however, we bear off again, for these little
mimosas afford us no wood. From S. to E.S.E.; a large lake again on
the right. How much earth must the mountains of Bari and elsewhere
supply before these shallow lakes can be elevated into land and
fields! Half-past six; from E. by S. to the left in E. and E. by N.,
where it makes a leap to E.N.E. The wind has become slack: only two
miles. Six o’clock; to E. There are many swallows flying over the
reeds; they seem to be making a tour of pleasure with our deadly
enemies the gnats. These birds may either not anticipate the rainy
season, which is close at hand, (unless they are already on the
road to our home,) or they remain here entirely, and most of them
perish, as we have seen in Taka, where, however, the trees protect
them. Half-past seven; E.N.E. On the right a large lake: we anchor
in the middle of the river, and it begins to be dark. Thermometer,
sunrise, 22°; noon, not above 27°; sunset 27°.
_9th March._—We start, though it is raining, at six o’clock,
and go E.S.E. and immediately E., and sail with a north-west wind to
N.E. Seven o’clock; round the left to N.; immediately, however,
to the right, E.N.E. and E. The wind has gone round to south east,
and freshened, so that we make six miles. We see from the deck ten
villages scattered at some distance on the left side, and a lake on
the right. The lakes mentioned yesterday, which were encircled here
and there by ambaks on the side turned from the river, and not, as
usual, by the Habas, could only be perceived from the deck. We go at
eight o’clock to S.E. with oars, after some delay, in consequence
of our vessel having come into collision with Selim Capitan’s. The
wind has slackened considerably: a large lake on the left.
A good idea unfortunately often strikes us too late. Last night, I
was trying to defend myself with a fan against the onslaughts of the
gnats, but often let it fall from pure weariness. Continual stings,
however, soon waked me to pick the fan up again, till about morning it
came into my head to erect a small tabernacle over my face, by means
of a linen cloth. Yesterday evening I repeated that contrivance,
and was scrupulously careful in forming it, when I found that the
little pincers and pests would not let me eat in peace, and poured
out of their lurking-holes with bloodthirsty intentions. I drew,
therefore, my little conical canopy over my head: I was very hot
under it, but yet not a mosquito was able to pierce through it. They
buzzed and hummed outside, and the crew cried, “Bauda! bauda!”
but I was comparatively jolly, and of good cheer.
A quarter after eight. E.S.E., then E. Some trees before us; two
villages seen from the deck, behind the reeds on the left. Nine
o’clock. Right round to E.S.E.; here, on the left, a little lake,
and three villages near the above-mentioned three or four trees,
ten minutes from the shore. The tokuls, which are not so large
as those previously seen, and have slightly arched roofs, seem to
denote that we have come already to the country of the Shilluks. It
does our heart good to see human habitations once again close
to us. The Nile has been really very tedious for a long time:
I sit here, a “passer solitarius in tecto.” I always thought
that we ought to bring every landscape before the reader’s eye,
like a row of pictures on the wall; but there is a continual and
tiresome repetition of natural objects here: yet I feel it my duty
not to spare the reader. Ten o’clock: continually E.S.E., with very
inconsiderable declinations. Several people and villages on the left
shore, at five minutes’ distance: they are really Shilluks. From
the deck we see immediately ten large and small villages. We wind,
still rowing, in a flat arch to the right, S.E.; then to the left,
E. by N., at half-past eleven; and again slowly to the right. Four
villages, the last a large one, at our left: they lie intermixed on
the bare high shore, or rather grass and reed-sea, through which the
river winds. Some Shilluks, no doubt a very populous nation, greet
us from the shore with “Habàba!” (borrowed from the Arabs: in
Taka, also, they say habàba—otherwise, mirhabà). Three mountains
project on the right. Eleven o’clock, S.E.; three villages on the
left. Half-past eleven. Slowly from E.S.E. to the right, S.E. by E.;
then to the left, E., and the river immediately makes again a bend
to the right, in E.S.E. The wind freshens and detains us; yet we have
gained just this moment, for the river goes further to the right, and
the wind has changed to N. The high shores, behind which the whole
country is bare, with the exception of a few uschàrs, and seems to
lie higher, approach again the river on the left; and two villages
shew themselves at some hundred paces, on the gently-ascending downs;
below them the old river-bed appears on dry ground.
The Shilluks, armed with lances, and standing on the shore, shout
again their “Habàba!” but we sail now, and they do not offer us
anything, much as we should like to make use of their cows and wood;
and besides there are two many of them. Groups of tokuls stand in
a row. A quarter after twelve, continually E.S.E. Half-past twelve,
S.E. by E.; to the left, E. The wind has changed, and is contrary;
so we go E.S.E. The Shilluks also have sleeping-places, open at the
top, wherein warm ashes form their beds, with which also they powder
their hair, thereby making it look grey.
A quarter before one. From E. by N. A gohr on the right, and we go,
at one o’clock, E.S.E. Half-past one. The river takes a direction
before us to E., with some little inlets, so that we cannot see the
lower shore. The wind blows strongly against us from E. We have but
scanty fare, being without meat. I cannot deny _kew_ to myself now,
for I really want it.
Half-past two. E. by S. A Haba on the right, before it a lake
connected with the river in front; the forest is upon a gentle
declivity, and covered with shrubs, thorns, and dwarf-trees, even to
the edge of the water. The shore also falls away gently to the river,
near which it only rises a little above the narrow green margin of
grass. We halt close to the right shore, owing to want of wood.
The shore ascends to about fifteen feet high, where the trees begin,
and is composed of nothing but mimosas, although the Nile very
certainly does not flow over it; for the river has full play far
away to the left.
If we call these lakes, marshes, and reed-morasses, a longitudinal
valley, enclosed as they are with the Nile between two high shores,
which, however, do not ascend to the due height, the original shores
perhaps lying still further by the irregular low line of mountains,
or rather hills, it is plain that the same is gradually filled by
alluvial deposits from the mountains of Bari, or from above, and an
accumulation of vegetables, or the momentary sprouting forth of an
corresponding kingdom of plants, must have soon followed the more
important vegetable matter. As the sluices of the so-called valley
pour into the great Nile, it must have falls on a level with the Nile
itself, and has, therefore, dug a bed, and made an even slope to this
side, after the stream had removed the first barriers or dikes of the
high shores, which are now secure from any inundation. A river-bed,
indeed, naturally becomes deeper when there is a proper fall and a
regular conduit. The lower Nile has elevated its bed, because it has
but few vents. Why could not the White River have a similar retrograde
connection of water, which is prevented from flowing off, such as is
the case, in the first place, near Khartùm? The Nile here might have
been previously in majestic fullness, and flowed rapidly between the
present old shores to Khartùm, until it created shallows and islands,
where reeds and water-plants of every species sprang forth luxuriantly
from the nearly stagnant water, and vehemently opposed the natural
course of the river, seized the alluvial deposits from above in their
polypi-arms, and rose to what we now see to be meadows and marshes.
The Shilluks are tolerably acquainted with the good disposition
of the Turks: as soon as a vessel approaches a group of them, they
get up and go away; this even befell Selim Capitan, in spite of his
interpreter. When they see us coming, they drive the cows from the
water, even without letting them drink. We on our side are afraid,
and with justice, to land on the inhabited spots. I brought back two
guinea-fowls, the produce of my shooting excursion with my servants;
I had seen Suliman Kashef with one of a similar kind above. They
are not at all like those in Taka, and different only from those of
Europe by the darker colour of their plumage. We shall remain here
to-night; thunder and rain have been satisfied with merely threatening
us,—and are happily over. I disembark once more, and see fifty to
sixty giraffes in the level shore towards the horizon, but it was
too late to get at them. The thermometer was at nine o’clock in
the morning 21°, but did not get up afterwards to more than 28°,
fortunately for us,—not so much on account of shooting as because
the heat might have been insupportable, for we were between these
high shores à talus, with an average angle of 25° to 30°, and
the wind was entirely still.
_10th March._ We remain to-day here for the sake of shooting,
conformably to Suliman Kashef’s determination. His halberdiers
set off to-night to follow the course of the giraffes, and to find
out their abode in the gallas,—unfortunately without success,
for they did not like perhaps to trust themselves so far in the
territory of their deadly enemies.
I remarked a number of burnt bones of hippopotami in the low forest
lying close to the river. I should be inclined to believe that the
natives burn the carrion intentionally, in order not to be exposed to
the disgusting effluvium. A species of black wasps build hanging-nests
here, which however seem from their transparency to contain very
little honey. I could not ascertain this more exactly, because I was
obliged to be cautious in breaking off a branch with such nests on
it. We remark low mountains beyond the softly ascending desert, and
perhaps the dry water-courses which issue here from the steppe flow to
them, and _there_ may be the real abode of the deer. In my shooting
excursion I looked carefully among the thorn-bushes, and found that
the plants are mostly the same; I had fancied quite otherwise. A
blue convolvulus—not, however, belonging to the water—displayed a
lighter colour than usual, and had also round and glutinous leaves:
I took seeds of some pretty creepers and gathered the fruits of the
shrubs, for I was already acquainted with the leaves. Every thing
now was withered, and I am curious to know what will become of the
various seeds I have collected when they are sown in Europe.
Most of the birds had retreated before the shooting of the other
sportsmen commenced, but I stumbled upon several turtle-doves, and
instinctively grasped my gun, letting my botanical bundle fall on the
ground. I shot some, and got under a tree, where I saw them fluttering
around. The thorns stuck to me and pricked me all over, and there
I sat bent, like an ostrich caught in a thorn bush, compared with
which the bull-rush of Moses was a child. I could not force through
it with my coat on and gun in my hand; so I got loose from the sharp
barbs of the thorns with torn clothes, leaving behind the tarbusch,
takie, and half my cowl, without even scratching my ears, though they
were bleeding enough already. I fetched back my tarbusch by means
of my gun, and then examined my malicious enemy a little closer,
notwithstanding he was an old acquaintance. I found withered apples
on it, and gathered some, for the sake of the seed; when green they
are exceedingly similar to oranges or Egyptian lemons. I have not
found it confirmed that they are deadly poison to camels.
_11th March._—“Bauda mafish, am’d el Allàh!” (the latter
properly Hamdl el Allàh,) was the cry on all sides to Allàh, because
the gnats had taken their departure, and I hope that those which
are still in my cabin will soon follow their companions. Departure
at a quarter before ten to S.E. by E., then a little E. by S. Summer
or pastoral villages on the left: we perceive also herds, but not a
morsel of them is destined for us. On the right an old river-bed or
narrow lake, mostly marshy, and connected below with the river. A
quarter after ten, E.S.E., on a pretty good course, with the
exception of some shallow inlets. We sail, with a south-west wind,
four miles. On the left again open reed-huts or sleeping-places,
and herds to which the people are collecting,—on account of the
Turks. All the Haba here is deposited soil, which lies almost always
higher than the other ground. This evidently fading forest once
enjoyed better times, when the blessing of rain was afforded it,
but the benefit of which it lost directly by its higher situation.
What fables are told of the incredible luxuriance of the tropical
kingdom of plants! At all events it could only be said of aquatic
plants which are forced by water, evaporation, and sunshine, as if
by steam or chemical preparations; but then only in the rainy season
and a few weeks beyond. I saw, indeed, trees shooting forth at this
time in Taka, which boiling and cauldron-shaped valley may perhaps
contain a tropical growth, or something like it; and plants springing
up from the morass with incredible celerity and luxuriance, as if by
magic. But trees that have true manly vigour, and strive to shoot out
with sound strong muscles, whose pith is still clearly to be seen
in the bark, with not a bough injured,—not a branch hanging down
withered,—these are sought for in vain in the Tropics, so far as
I have seen. We can form a tolerable idea of the momentary life and
vigour there by comparing in Europe, acacias, planes, and poplars, on
suitable soil; it is the most cheerful awakening after a long repose:
but part of the limbs always continues in a sleep-like death, whether
it be under the bark of the stem, or a bough that the sun scorches,
or a runner become dry, which disfigures the whole tree. A forest
requires care, either by the fortuitous kindness of Nature herself;
or, when that is not sufficient, by the directing hand of man. The
omnipotence of the terrestrial womb of fruits is past,—that which
gave previously the magic of lovely green to the coming species,
without any visible seeds of themselves. Half-past eleven o’clock,
S.E.—It has just rained a little;—what anxiety and fear of rain
these half-naked coloured people shew; what care they display in
preparing immediately a tent to sit under! I have very often remarked
this; rain must therefore make a sensible impression on their hot
skin. Twelve o’clock, E.S.E. We see at the distance on the left
towards the horizon, solitary dhellèbs as usual on elevated ground;
and also isolated little groups of Shilluks. Narrow tracks of water
right and left, which not long ago were flowing cheerfully. The
river has also gradually laid aside its terraces in preceding times,
until it has limited itself to its present bed; and those parts of
the shore, lying higher are only just moistened, even when it is
at its highest water-mark. It would be interesting to follow these
old river-beds in the ascending line at the side, and to arrive at
the dams of the primitive stream, or at the higher circumvallation
which surrounded the lake here at one time. A quarter after one
o’clock.—On the right a gohr cul-de-sac, low bushes to S.E.,
called by the very same name as the Haba; on the left solitary trees
and straw huts of the herdsmen. At two—on the right, another gohr
cul-de-sac,—to E. We sail E.N.E, and wind, for the first time since
the morning, to the left: a track of water in the shape of a terrace,
just there, from half a foot to a foot higher than our level. A
beautiful line of dome-palms before us, but still thicker a little to
the left. Half-past three, N.E.—Heaps of simsim-sheaves on the water
at the left, and a row of ten villages near the dome-palms. A broad
gohr or river comes from W. This may be the river of the Jengähs; but
it seems to approach in the background too much to the Nile; perhaps
therefore it is that gohr which is said to have its old river-bed on
the high shores, below the villages of the Shilluks. A quarter before
three, E. We see on the left seven more large and small villages,
by or near that row of dome-palms, which on this side is very thin;
then a dome-forest to the left at a quarter of an hour’s distance.
An unlimited water-course before us in E. by N., but no huts to be
seen on the left. Therefore, the nation of the Nuèhrs might have been
dislodged by the Shilluks from that quarter; for the former extend,
or are said to extend, up to the Sobàt and its shores. This side,
at all events, had been inhabited, as I plainly saw this morning at
our landing-place. The Haba, however, continues at a slight distance
from the river; on the left also the dome-forest is now reduced to
a strip of a wood. The shores are surprisingly low on both sides;
and therefore not any tokul-village is to be seen near them. A gohr
is on the right, which is scarcely separated from the river, and in
connection with it, like the other narrow ones. Three o’clock. On
the left three more villages in the dome-forest tract; and on the
right and left parrallel gohrs, subordinate Niles, which are now
stagnant, and the fish in which are a prey to men and beasts. Four
more villages to the left, near the dome-wood retreating from the
river; on the right the forest thickens.
Half-past three. Towards S. We have a tolerably high and
apparently planted island at our left, and halt at the right near
a hill—probably a deserted domicile. But look there! that is
really the far-famed Sobàt, the water of which is flowing against
us, and which is so much feared by the crew, who are tired of the
voyage. I soon disembarked on the shore, sauntered up the hill, and
was surprised to find that I could see so far in the distance, and
fed my eye and mind with a diorama which extended from W. to N.E. The
Nile is conspicuous in the W., and meanders to N.E., where it is lost
to the sight. An isolated dhellèb-palm on the right shore indicates
this last boundary. The horizon behind this glittering length of the
Nile is adorned with a transparent forest of dome-palms, interspersed
with slender dhellèb palms, with their small heads. The basin of
a lake spreads from W. to N.W., at my feet, and the river Sobàt
winding downwards from S.E., and flowing in the depth at my right,
unites with the Nile near the lake: both its shores are bare, and
only a few melancholy straw tokuls stand on the extreme point of the
right shore. All the remaining part of the district extends far and
wide in a dead waste, with a little withered grass; and the horizon
alone from S.S.W. to S.W., displays afar some palms and other trees,
through which the blue sky glistens.
The lake lying in the angle between the left shore of the Sobàt
and the right of the White Stream is connected with the former by
a narrow opening, evidently prevented from closing by the hand of
man. The mouth, as is the case elsewhere, is merely stopped up by
reeds, to keep the fish of the lake in confinement. Our blacks shewed
on this occasion what they do to catch fish when the water of these
lakes is shallow, and does not reach up to a man’s middle. They
disturb it with their feet, put fishing or conical baskets into it,
and harpoon the large fish, who come to the top to breathe.
The Sobàt, swelling at high water far higher and stronger, has
raised unquestionably a dam against this lake, the former river-bed
of the White Stream, and pressed the Nile more towards N.W. into
its present bed. Notwithstanding such an advantage being at hand,
the natives have cut through the dam for the purpose of catching
fish. The Sobàt has shortly before its mouth a hundred and thirty
mètres in breadth and three fathoms in depth, whilst when we were
here before it was four fathoms; and according to Selim Capitan,
a few days earlier last year, five fathoms. We can tell but very
little generally of the depth of the Nile, because its bed is very
uneven, and the stream causes eternal fluctuations.
The name of Sobàt could only have been given to this river by the
Funghs, for the Arabs have never possessed it, and usually call it
Bach’r el Makàda (river of Habesch.) The Dinkas name the White
Stream Kedi, and _this_ Kiti, which mostly denotes water in the
dialects on the White Stream up to Bari, where it is called Kirboli:
Kir also means water among the tribes down the river. Its name is
Tilfi and Tak with the Nuèhrs and Shilluks.
When I view the steep and high slope of the shores of the Sobàt,
and the proportionate thin layer of earth on the immovable strata
of clay or original soil, which here is twenty to twenty-five feet
higher than on the shore or in the bed of the Nile, I return to
my former conviction, that the immeasurable particles of stone and
plants stream by means of the breach, and flowing away of the lakes
of the Ethiopian highlands, to the lake of the basin-shaped valley
of the White Stream which flows off with the Nile, as the deepest
point; and that all the lower country under the mountain chains
of Fàzogl and Habesch, from the Atbara to the land of Bari must
be under water, if it be not a lake connected with the depressed
regions of the White Stream. If the lakes, therefore, of that lofty
plain were torn by a powerful catastrophe, and deserted their chasms
or valleys, as the water-basins of Switzerland did formerly—(even
now there are lakes or flat valleys, signs of a deluge, in which the
waters might have dashed from the summit of Atlas to the top of the
Alps)—there is no question that the lower lakes or valleys must have
filled and overflowed. The first rushing-down of the mass of waves,
incredibly violent as it must have been, the falling of mountains
accompanying it, and their washing-away, overpowered everything
below them, as if gods had descended from Olympus, and no longer
recognized those limits that would have remained eternal obstacles
by an inferior shock. The first deposit was a layer of clay on the
side of the Sobat, whilst the White Stream suffered no such sediment
when in its primitive strength, and washed away everything that it
could seize, as is shewn by the far lower shores. The high shores
of the Sobàt and its environs fall away, especially towards the
level parts of the left side of the Nile, to which the accumulated
slime could still less arrive owing to the stream carrying it off,
although several gohrs and rivers from thence pour into it. These
afford water certainly, but no slime to increase the height of
the shore, as we plainly see by the Gazelle River, and also in the
little Kiti of the Jengähs called Njin-Njin. We must assume from
the Dinka country and its greater elevation, that the ground towards
the Nile was heightened formerly by its gohrs flowing from above,
or perhaps constant rivers; whilst Kordofàn, which lies over the
left shore of the Nile, discharges no rivers, and its oases have run
down from the mountains themselves, and formed islands in the sands
which still remain, for the sunken ground forms cisterns that nourish
the succulent power of the mountains by imbibing the moist element;
or it may be, that springs were bored by God’s own hand.
CHAPTER IX.
ROYAL CRANES. — SCRUPLES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — COMPOSITION OF
THE SHORES. — DESCRIPTION OF THE DHELLÈB—PALM AND ITS FRUIT. —
FORM OF EGYPTIAN PILLARS DERIVED FROM THIS TREE. — DIFFERENCE
BETWEEN EGYPTIAN AND GREEK ARCHITECTURE. — DESCRIPTION OF THE
SUNT-TREE. — DEATH OF AN ARABIAN SOLDIER. — VISIT OF A MEK OR
CHIEF. — DANGEROUS RENCONTRE WITH A LION ON SHORE. — PURSUIT OF
THIS BEAST BY THE AUTHOR AND SULIMAN KASHEF WITH HIS MEN. — FEAR OF
THE NATIVES AT THE TURKS. — PLUNDER OF THEIR TOKULS BY THE CREW. —
BREAD-CORN OF THE DINKAS. — ANTELOPE HUNT. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF
THESE ANIMALS. — IMMENSE HERDS ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE NILE. —
LIONS AGAIN. — BAD CONDITION OF THE VESSELS.
12th March.—We set out at half-past nine o’clock, and sail to
S.E. by E. Shrubs on the higher shore to the right. A quarter before
ten, from S.E. by E.; further to the left round a corner, to which
a bend corresponds on the opposite shore: this is often the case
on the Nile. To E.N.E., and immediately again with a short tract
to N.E. The river flows with all its force against the left shore,
and therefore the latter is higher, more perpendicular, and disrupt,
than the right, which soon, however, becomes similar. We go a short
tract libàhn, and see a few miserable small straw tokuls with _thin_
doors, on the left, in the little green underwood, which seems to
be nourished by the inundation, and is mostly young döbker.
The shores display again iron oxyde. A quarter before eleven: from
E. by N., to the right, E.S.E., where we sail. The shores on the right
and left are higher, according to the current, and the falling of
the river is accurately marked out on the shore by little gradations,
which are exceedingly regular, and one to two inches high. We crawl
on only slowly with the faint south wind, and make now one mile; for
the current being stagnant below towards the Nile, told me directly
that the floating companion of the mountain dissipates quickly its
water, differently from the slow, crawling Nile, which is obliged
to work through the plain of a lake-basin.
Eleven o’clock. The wind freshens, and we go S.E. and E.S.E. On the
left a solitary dhellèb-palm rises on the shore, with its beautiful
and really symmetrical head; its slender base without rings, and
its elegant foliage. From hence in the bend, further to the right,
in S., where five dhellèb-palms break the uniformity of the high
shore on the left. A low ridge of a hill lies near them, on which a
village must have once stood. If I could but transplant the tallest
dhellèb to Louisa’s island, near Berlin, to make it the common
property of all the northern nations! It is hot, for the high shores
keep the refreshing breeze from the deep water, and only the sail
enjoys a cheerful gust of wind, with the assistance of which we go,
at a quarter before twelve, from S.W., where a regular forest before
us presents itself to the eye, to the left, in S.W. by S. We make two
miles; a quarter of a mile, perhaps, being derived from the current. A
quarter after twelve, from S.W., to the left, E. by N. We hardly move
from the place till it blows from N.E., and then we go better, having
four miles’ course. An old sailor runs on shore close by the vessel,
to find crocodiles’ eggs; tumbles into holes, falls in the grass,
and is using every exertion to find a convenient sand-path instead
of the clay. The crew call him to come off, but he wants to shew
that he is a nimble fellow—thus every one has his hobby-horse.
The river winds continually in a bend to the left: a wretched stunted
forest on the right, and miserable tokuls, without people, here and
there on this shore. One o’clock; from E. by N., where the river
winds again to the right, S.E. by S. We halt at a quarter before
two, at the right shore, yet not to let the men rest; that would
be against the Turkish custom, for they think there are no human
beings except themselves. At three o’clock we go with libàhn to
S.E., and immediately to the left E. Half-past three, in a bend to
the right, S.S.E.; and four o’clock, on the left, in the bend,
to E.S.E. Five o’clock, from E.N.E., on the right to E., where we
stop at the right shore.
Last night I awoke up several times, and the wild geese on the
neighbouring lake, seemed to call to me in a friendly manner, and
scream “Here _we_ are, for you have not had for a long time either
sheep, goats, or fowls.” I was on the wing therefore at day-break,
but saw only four royal cranes (grus royal, Arabic gornu, or chornu),
one of whom I shot, for they are very delicious when dressed in
a ragout. Feïzulla, although he has been seven years in England,
drinks drams and wine like a Turk, and scruples to dine with me,
because I had not cut the bird’s throat immediately after it was
shot, whilst it was yet alive, and made it debièg (koscher, as the
Jews say). These beautiful birds, with a tuft of golden hair and
shining feathers, appear in flocks on the White River: my Sale killed
a brace in a moment, and would have brought us more if he could have
followed them. The geese would only surrender at discretion to the
“longue carabine,” and I had only my short double-barrel.
I visited once more, on this occasion, the hill above-mentioned,
which I found quite adapted for the situation of a village. I had seen
already the remains of potters’ ware, and solitary flower-gardens,
or plots of ground trodden down, where once tokuls stood, but where
now neither grass nor shrubs could grow; and I came to the conclusion
that a considerable village must have stood there, which could have
belonged only to the Nuèhrs, and was probably destroyed by the
Shilluks. Thermometer, sunrise, 21°; half-past nine o’clock,
28°; noon, 29°; no rise beyond that was perceptible afterwards.
_13th March._—Departure at seven o’clock, with libàhn to
E.S.E. by E.; then to the left, E.N.E., and we sail with a good
north-east wind. A quarter before eight: from E., in the bend to S.E,;
on the left some straw tokuls. The wind becomes strong, and we make
six miles for the present; the mountain stream seems to be here at
its lowest pitch, and has only a quarter of a mile rapidity. Eight
o’clock; from S.E. by S.; to the left, E. by S., where we are
obliged to go libàhn. A quarter after eight, to the left, but we
halt before the corner of the bend till noon, owing to the violent
east wind. I made a little excursion into the immeasurable plain,
which was tree-less and comfortless; and found two villages, better
built than usual, to which I was not able to approach, and likewise
a long and dried-up marsh. I could not, unfortunately, discover any
guinea-fowls in the durra-stubble.
At twelve o’clock, we proceed with libàhn to N.E., where our
Bach’r el Makàda winds again to the right. Half-past twelve. The
shores, with few exceptions, attain a height of fifteen to eighteen
feet: the upper surface of the soil consists of humus to two or
three feet deep (which may be deeper in the low ground, old gohrs,
and several tracts), and under it nothing is seen but clay or mud,
having a yellowish colour on the shore, from the iron oxyde, with
which it is strongly impregnated, and generally more so than on
the White Nile, where this is only the case in layers. A fertile
country, but requiring human hands, canals, and sakiën. We see from
its shores, and in the dried-up pools, which receive very little
nourishment here from vegetable matter, particularly on the upper
land, that the Sobàt brings down fruitful earth or slime.
From half-past twelve to two, in a bend to the left, S.E., where we
go again left in N.E. by N. On the same side there is a tolerably
well built little village on the shore. A quarter before three, still
further to the left, N. by E. Four o’clock, we wheel to the right
in E.N.E., where we get the view of a genuine low forest, and notice
on the left a village in the winding to S. by E. Half-past four,
also further; a hamlet on the right with straw tokuls, the first on
this side. We see here also reed-boats, as among the Nuèhrs and
Shilluks on the Nile. At five o’clock to S., where we at first
halt at the right shore, before the bend to the left. Two large
villages lie from half to three-quarters of an hour distant, and
I see an immeasurable bare plain cracked from drought,—a summer
shallow lake without any verdure. We go then to the left shore,
the soil of which is less mixed with sand than that of the right,
and gives us some hope of shooting and fishing. The huntsman Sale
returned, however, disconsolate, for he had seen nothing at all.
The left shore is still more precipitous and higher here than the
right one, because the stream forces itself into this bend. When we
disembark, we find that the land again rises to a gentle acclivity,
and we have the prospect of a large lake about three quarters of an
hour distant, which overflows perhaps deeper into the Sobàt. Many
lakes of this kind must be found in the country of the Dinkas, because
springs, as in the Taka country, are not sufficient for the watering
of the cattle of this merissa-loving, dancing and singing tribe;
and besides, the drawing of the water would cause too much trouble.
The Sobàt is stagnant here in the proper sense of the word, and no
log can determine anything else.
_14th March._ We navigate again on the right side, and go at half-past
seven o’clock with libàhn from S. by E., immediately S.E.,
where the north-east wind remains contrary to us, notwithstanding
the narrow water-tract. Some small and still green reed-huts hang
on the shore, sheltered from the north wind: these are stations for
hunters of hippopotami and crocodiles, or for fishermen, who, however,
have gone away, and taken with them their working implements, for
they are frightened of us. The durra seems to thrive famously on the
half-sandy shore, and rises cheerfully above the reeds; probably it is
sown,—that is, a handful thrown here and there on the vacant spots.
Eight o’clock—E. by N., and N.E. by E. The upper margin of
the right shore is planted throughout with durra, and some small
fishing-huts shew that men dwell there. Ten o’clock.—Hitherto
always N.E. within considerable deviations, and then N. by E.; where
we halt at the corner of the right shore on account of the wind,
for the river goes still further to the left: level land above,
some underwood, and a village at a little distance. A quarter before
one.—N. by W., and about one, in a bend to the right. When the
crew relieve one another at the rope, they imitate to perfection
the Uh-uh-i-ih of the tribes on the upper part of the White Stream,
and during the towing itself they sing the song à-à-à-jòk-jòk,
which would be difficult for a white man to do. The force of the
water is directed here against the right shore, which is without any
crust of vegetation, and seems to ascend to the uppermost margin,
as is proved by the gradations being washed away, and the thin layer
of humus, one foot to one and a half high, decreases perpendicularly,
whilst the lower part of the soil displays unmixed clay. It certainly
required a powerful pressure of water to wash this primary deposit
to such a depth; the left shore, on the contrary, has a coating of
slime and vegetation down to the water.
Two o’clock.—E. by N.; twenty-one dhellèb-palms on the left,
with a pastoral hamlet of thirty new straw-tokuls. The crew are
beginning to shoot down the dhellèb-fruits, and I also disembark on
the shore, beyond which the ground, with the beautiful group of trees,
is still imperceptibly elevated. We are quite comfortable there,
but I gaze far and wide for a point to break the unbounded flat waste
that shews not a thorn or a bush; the river winds melancholy between
the naked shores. These palms stand in luxuriant growth,—a proof
that the soil is capable of other things, and may look for a better
future. The very pretty straw-huts present nothing worth having to
our rapacious eyes, and near them we remark the sleeping-places,
and a large, glimmering heap of dung, serving at night for fire and
a bed. The cow-dung is collected in little heaps in the enclosure,
surrounded with palings, where the beast is tied, and is still quite
fresh: notwithstanding this, it is very certain that we expect in vain
the return this evening of these beautifully spotted cattle. Standing
on an old trunk of a tree, I remarked a large village on the right
shore at a quarter of an hour up the river.
The dhellèb-tree has the same fibrous texture of bark, and of the
interior of the trunks, as the dates and dome-palms; but it is far
finer, thicker, and stronger. The outside of the bark shews rings from
below upwards, and the tree itself shoots forth slenderly from the
earth, and swells gradually towards the centre to a spheroid form,
when it decreases again to the top, and rises stately, separating
the head from the stem. The fruit is as large as a child’s head,
and in clusters, as in the palms before named, but on far stronger
stalks, from which it hangs down immediately close to the stem. It is
smooth outside, and of a golden colour, like its pulp; the latter is
fibrous, of a bitter-sweet taste, like chewing soft wood and leaves
behind in the mouth an astringent taste, which may arise here from
the fruit not being fully ripe. There are from four to six kernels
in this gold apple of the size of a child’s hand, or of those of
the dome-palms: the stalk has a scaly covering, surrounding about a
third part of the fruit. The kernels, or the nuts, have themselves
a solid pulp, shining like dark glass, being exactly similar to
that of the dome-fruit: at first it is like milk, but on coming to
maturity becomes of the consistency of horn. The trunk of palms is
surrounded with the same kind of rings as the date-tree, the rind
feeling smooth, like planed wood; consequently it was impossible
to climb these trees to gather any fruit, owing principally to the
swelling in the centre, and therefore it was shot down. After several
attempts, we drove large nails in the stem, to hold the rope by,
and then we ascended gradually.
The bark falls off on the ground, as is the case with the other
palms, for the tree throws out foliage like grass from the interior:
the thick rootlets spread themselves in all directions through the
ground, like polypi, with a thousand veins of life.
There seems to me to be no doubt that the Egyptian pillars, protruding
in the middle, derived their origin from the dhellèb-palms, which
might have been transplanted in the Thebaïs; for it was impossible
that the Egyptians should not take notice of the unusual shape of
this tree—they who borrowed all their forms and embellishments, even
to those of their spoons and salve-boxes, from the kingdom of nature.
Lifeless figures having no meaning are never represented by them;
flowers, foliage, leaves, sacred animals, or parts of them properly
introduced, are intermixed with hieroglyphics, like a garland, without
beginning or end. The Greeks quickly seized what was beautiful in
this, discarded what was heavy and confused, and pleased themselves
and succeeding ages by lighter and more elegant forms. They placed
the acanthus and horns, or volutes on the capitals of their pillars,
and the Germans planted a stone-forest as the holiest of holy.
A large village of the Nuèhrs (judging from several potsherds) stood
on our hill: this nation dwells up the river from hence and in the
direction of the White Stream, where we had seen them last. I had
found also on the last landing-place fragments and the foundations
of a village, and heard from our blacks that the Shilluks, several
years ago, had a great war with the Nuèhrs, drove them from these
parts, and took possession of the lake abounding in fish, which I
have previously mentioned. We have not remarked any sunt among the
mimosas from the country of Bari up to the Sobàt, and even on this
river, but we see talle. The latter tree has a reddish bark; the long
white prickles grow by couples; the flowers are whitish and without
any particular scent; the bark, however, is used for pastilles, and,
when rubbed, sprinkled on the merissa. It affords the best gum (gamme,
semmag), which is white like that from sunt, while that from the sejal
(or sayal) is blackish. Thermometer yesterday morning 22°, and did
not rise beyond 27°, and this morning 18°; noon 26° to 29°.
_15th March._ We leave our beautiful palms at half-past nine
o’clock, and go from E. by N., and notwithstanding the strong
north-east wind, slowly in the bend to the right. A quarter after
ten, S.E. by E., then a very short tract S.S.E.: some grass huts
of fishermen, and crocodile and hippopotami hunters at the lower
declivity of the shore on the left. Half-past ten, to the left
S.E., and further to the left, S.E. by E., where we halt at eleven
o’clock, because an Arabian soldier has just cried himself to death
before our cabin! He wept at having to die in a foreign land and not
seeing his mother any more. Nearly all these people lose their courage
directly they are attacked by any illness, the nature of which they
cannot visibly perceive as they can a wound, &c. He died with a piece
of bread in his mouth, because the Arabs believe, and with justice,
that so long as you can chew bread you will not die. It is shameful
that we dare not take even medicine from the fine black physician we
have on board, and much less can we expect assistance or salvation
from him. Ten minutes have flown; the deceased is carried to the upper
part of the shore, and yet the worthy disciple of Clot-Bey has never
even looked at him! We leave at half-past two the place where the
soldier was buried in dead silence, after having received five more
cows, upon whom the crew fell like wolves, and navigate to the left,
E.S.E.; then again slowly to the right. Three o’clock, to S.E. We
sail about five minutes, and stop again at the right shore, by the
corner where it turns to the left, and then again, “Jo hàmmet, Ja
mohammed!” is chaunted at the rope. In the winding below the left
shore we saw a water-hunting establishment of seven straw tokuls. A
quarter before three, from E.S.E. to E. by S. A quarter after four,
E.S.E. Half-past four, E. Some few trees on the right entirely or
partly withered, and soon afterwards a few green ones, of which
those standing lower shew that the water has poured into the shores,
even to the margin. Five o’clock, E. by N., then slowly right to
E., where we halt at a quarter of an hour later. The river makes a
strong bend to the right, and we hope to sail to-morrow.
This afternoon, when the cows were brought us, I procured a ring,
with much difficulty, for sug-sug, and though badly manufactured,
it is at least peculiar to the country. I saw several such rings
among them, but not one of them had a circular form, and by this
we may measure the standard of their skill. Those which are better
worked, are found among the Nuèhrs. The five cows came from the Mek,
who presented himself in person to Suliman Kashef, with whom Selim
Capitan also happened to be: he was clothed in a ferda, which he had
received from the Shilluks. He wore a very thick copper ring on his
hand, and was of opinion that dress is the privilege of sheikhs. An
old woman and a man preceded him; the former attired like an ancient
Queen of the Witches. We dressed the mek in a red caftan, put a
gay-coloured red handkerchief round his head, and hung glass beads
on him. Another cow was brought to us, but they wanted an enormous
quantity of sug-sug for it, (these trinkets are generally held in
little value here, because the Gelabis frequent these regions,)
and still more for goats and sheep. Thermometer, sunrise, 18°;
noon and subsequently, 28° to 30°.
_16th March._—Man is not appalled in the midst of danger
itself,—if it were so, he would be lost; but the frail human
heart throbs afterwards. Yesterday evening I left the vessel, in
company with Thibaut, to get at a swarm of finches, which birds are
said to give a delicious flavour to a pillau, of which we wanted to
be joint partakers. We were soon obliged to separate, in order to
salute the birds on both sides of their settlement. In my excursion,
however, on the shore, I came all of a sudden within a few steps
of a lion, without having the least distant idea that this fearful
enemy could be in the neighbourhood of all our vessels, and I had
only my double-barrel, which was loaded merely with small shot;
whilst my huntsman Sale, was pursuing a gazelle, at a long distance
off. Possibly our firing had awakened this supreme chief from his
sleep, for otherwise I must have seen him before, although my eye
was directed to a brace of birds at the left; because the underwood
could not have concealed an object of such size, as it only reached
up to the knee, and was merely interspersed here and there with a
higher bush. I was just taking aim slowly and almost irresolutely
at the two beautiful birds, who were looking at me with surprise
and confidence, contrary to the custom of the cunning finches,
when the lion stood before me on the right, as if he had sprung
from the earth. He was so close to me that he appeared to stand as
high as up to my breast, but yet I stood, my poor weak weapon in my
hand, holding it close to my side, with perfect presence of mind,
so as to keep my face free, and to wait for the attack; I was firm,
and he seemed also to be resolute.
At first we stared at each other mutually; he measured me from top
to toe, but disregarded the Turkish accoutrements and sun-burnt
countenance, for my red cap which he seemed not to despise. I, on
my side, recognized in him the dreaded king of beasts, although he
wore no mane, according to his usual custom, but I did not appeal to
his magnanimity. At last he turned his face from me, and went away
slowly with a dreadfully pliable movement of his hinder parts, and
his tail hanging down, but could not restrain himself from turning
round to look at me once more, while I was trusting to the effect of
one or two shots in the eyes or jaws, if it came to a contest of life
or death; and really I remained standing immovable, with too much of
the _lion_ in me to tremble, and to bring certain destruction on my
head by untimely flight. However, away he went, looking round several
times, but not stopping, as if he feared pursuit, and I turned my
back to him equally slowly, without even calling out a farewell;
but I cast a searching look over my shoulders every now and then,
right and left, expecting that he might make a spring like a cat,
and I kept him in sight before me, when I was about to jump down
from the shore on to the sand where the vessels and crew were. I
confess openly that I now felt an evident throbbing of the heart,
and that my nose seemed to have turned white. Taken unawares as I
had been by the lion, the distance of five paces, according to the
measurement I made, was nearly too close for me: on his side it was
only necessary for him to have smelt me, which probably I should
not have allowed. I stood a moment on the margin of the shore, in
order that I might tranquilly summon Suliman Kashef to the pursuit
of the beast, without betraying any pallor of countenance, and then
I jumped down on the sand. When I swore by the prophets to Suliman
Kashef that my account was true, he was ready immediately with his
sharpshooters. At my advice we formed a line of riflemen above, though
I could not obtain a couple of bullets for my gun; but the Turks soon
crawled together again, except a tall black slave of Suliman’s,
who was at the right wing. When the latter soon afterwards pointed
and made signs that the lion was near at hand, his master motioned
with his hand and gun that he would shoot him if he did not join us,
for he held himself as lost, being left quite alone. We set off at
a slight trot, because the lion continued his walk, until at last
Suliman, as it began to get dark, ordered three of his boldest
warriors to go in advance. Three shots were fired, but the men
came back, and described the lion as a real monster. I was actually
glad that the magnanimous beast, according to all probability, was
not even wounded. They called me again an “Agù el bennaht,”
because I accompanied the expedition to see my lion a second time,
and they expressed themselves rejoiced that God had preserved me,
and wished me happiness, with pious phrases from the Koràn.
To-day we sailed at half-past six o’clock from the place to
S.E. and S.E. by S.; at seven o’clock; E. by S., a village on the
high shore at the right.
We saw yesterday, from our landing-place, four villages, lying
together on the right and left shore, which the Dinkas have taken into
their possession. At half-past seven o’clock, after we had sailed
only slowly (two miles), owing to the wind being partly adverse,
we proceeded to E.S.E. and S.E. by E. The strong breeze caught the
sails, and we make seven miles clear of deduction: unfortunately,
the tract will not be long. A quarter before eight we stop before
the corner, where a winding to the left commences, in order to go
libàhn, because the vessels ahead do it. Some huntsmen’s huts, with
their inhabitants, stand on the right shore, and I procure, on this
occasion, a horn of the Tete species of antelope. We proceed, sailing,
to S.E. by E., and E.S.E., and halt a quarter after eight. Again at
S.E. by E., to go libàhn round the left. Unfortunately, the wind has
torn the sail, which I had feared for a long time would be the case;
for it was ripped up in several places, and the Tailor Capitan did
not trouble himself about it. “Allàh kerim!” A large village at
some distance above. At a quarter before one, we go libàhn to S.E. by
E.; then E.S.E. and E. by S. On the right shore a village with Dinka
tokuls and sleeping-places. It is not yet, however, decided whether
the Dinkas dwell there, although the style of architecture of the
tokuls, their grooved and arched roofs, without eaves, seem rather to
denote that they belong to this tribe than to that of the Nuèhrs. The
wind is very strong, and the crew are obliged to tow with all their
might; but the river winds now to the right, and we can, perhaps,
sail. A quarter before two. From E. by N., slowly in the bend to
the right: a village on the right shore, in the bend to the left,
exactly like that on the left side. Half-past two, E. by S. We cannot
see anything of the village here, owing to the high shore; and the
blacks, who stood shortly before in large numbers on the shore, have
fled because they saw the Turkish countenances of Suliman Kashef’s
halberdiers. The Turk is pleased at such fear, which is associated
with hatred and contempt on the part of the negroes. A quarter before
three; S. by W. The wind makes the men at the rope run; but we are not
able to sail, because the river winds immediately to the left. We have
a low sand-island at our right. Our men will let nothing lie by the
huntsmen’s huts: tortoise-shells (water-tortoises), vessels,—such
as gadda, burma, gara—everything is carried off; for the blacks
have imbibed the Turkish notion of “Abit,” and are now askari
(soldiers), who pretend to know nothing of their countrymen.
Three o’clock. To the left in S. and S.S.E.; then again to the
right. Half-past three. We sail a little S. by W. and S. by E.; a
village on the left. The Dinkas appear to mix everything called corn
to make bread; such as durra, lubiën of different species, gourd or
melon stones, &c., of which I have a specimen; and also lotus seeds,
found here in great quantities, and therefore denoting that there are
several lakes in the interior, and the small rice I have mentioned
previously. A large hippopotamus shewed himself on the flat left
shore: he was afraid of the vessels and the shouting of the crew,
and trotted in a semicircle, like an immense wild boar, in order to
plunge into the water with a greater roar. Four o’clock. To the
left E.S.E. Five o’clock. From E. further to the left.
The crawling along these cheerless shores, notwithstanding the
shouting, jokes, teasing, and stumbling on board the vessels from
side to side, and sometimes into the water, and the huzzaing when that
takes place—notwithstanding all the various kinds of occupation and
non-occupation which may amuse us for a short time—is exceedingly
wearisome; and it is well for me if I retain my senses to sketch
here and there an idea, which may be followed out or rejected by
those whose attainments are higher, and who have the advantage of
an enlightened circle, where opinions and views can be expressed and
discussed. Such a circle, however, cannot be found in Bellet Sudan,
or on board my vessel. We halt a little after six o’clock in E.N.E.,
at the right shore. Thermometer, sunrise, 18°; noon, 27° and 28°;
sunset, 27°.
_11th March._—We had a great antelope-hunt yesterday
evening. Amongst others, there was an Ariel with twenty-five rings
on its horns, and a Tete, and three female Tilli. The latter, also
a species of antelopes, are of lighter colour than the Ariels, and
almost white, whilst the Tete has a dark-brown coat with white breast
and belly. The female Tilli are distinguished by having long tails,
but the males are said to be bare behind. I was not able to leave
the vessel sufficiently early to see a herd of more than a thousand
antelopes that were going to the watering-place. My huntsman,
also, who had struck into another road, saw some hundred together;
all the others agreed that there were these thousand which I have
mentioned. But they soon dexterously divided to the right and the
left on the immeasurable level of this land, where there was merely
low grass, wild bamie and a quantity of basil, which latter was also
met with on all sides in the countries further up; and Suliman Kashef
only shot four, and my Sale not a single one. I myself could only see
some antelopes on the horizon, because it was already getting dusk,
and I stopped with Sabatier close to the vessels, in case some beast
should be scattered from the herd, but in vain. On this occasion,
also, I saw two lions at a distance.
At night the wind blew in coldly at the door and windows, and even
this morning the north-east wind was cool. At half-past six we proceed
E.N.E., and in a bend further to the right E. and E. by S., where
we make a stronger evolution to the right. Eight o’clock. Libàhn
from S.E. by S. to S. We glide over shallows apparently consisting
of rubble-stone; the wind becomes strong and tosses the waves. A
quarter before nine, S.E. by S. to S., then still more to the left,
where we are soon thrown by the wind on the left shore, and stop in
E.S.E. Thibaut is with me, and they are calling for him; his ship is
full of water, and all the crew are summoned there: it is fortunate
that we are near land. Selim Capitan neglected to have the vessels
caulked at Khartùm, or to order at least gotrahm (instead of tar)
to be applied to the parts which we had stopped up with some oakum.
At five minutes’ distance above, a large village deserted by people;
we are magnanimous enough on our side to keep the crew from plundering
it. It is slightly elevated: the same is also the case with the shore,
so that shallow lakes are formed right and left, at present dry,
and having vents to the water, which apparently are kept open by
human hands for the sustentation of the soil,—on which, however,
nothing is seen. A number of snail-shells are lying together on the
surface just as I have seen in other places, and it seems that snails
are eaten. We remain here on account of the accident to Thibaut’s
vessel, but the shores, _à talus_, do not allow us to bring it on
the dry land. Thermometer 17° and 24°.
CHAPTER X.
VARIOUS SPECIES OF GRASSES. — FORMATION OF THE SHORES. —
WATERFOWLS. — AN ANTELOPE OF THE TETE SPECIES, NOW AT BERLIN. —
STRATA OF THE SHORE. — THE SOBÀT RIVER. THE MAIN ROAD FOR THE
NATIVES FROM THE HIGHLANDS TO THE PLAINS. — OBSERVATIONS ON THE
COURSE OF THE NILE AND SOBÀT. — A THOUSAND ANTELOPES SEEN MOVING
TOGETHER! — WILD BUFFALOES, LIONS, AND HYÆNAS. — AFRICA, THE
CRADLE OF THE NEGRO RACE. — THE SHUDDER-EL-FAS: DESCRIPTION OF
THIS SHRUB. — ARNAUD’S CHARLATANRY. — OUR AUTHOR FEARED BY
THE FRENCHMEN. — ARNAUD AND SABATIER’S JOURNALS: THE MARVELLOUS
STORIES OF THE FORMER. — THIBAUT’S JEALOUSY. — VISIT OF A
SHEIKH OF THE SHILLUKS. — FEAR OF THE TURKS AT THESE PEOPLE. —
SULIMAN KASHEF PURSUED BY A LION.
18th March.—We sail at a quarter before seven o’clock with a cold
north-east wind S.E., and then S. by E. and S. The wind, however,
becomes too powerful; twice are we driven on oyster-beds—that is,
on those thorn muscles, as if over stones, and have reefed sails
to prevent the ships from going to pieces, their condition being
so bad. A quarter after seven. From S. by E. to the left. Visible
sand-banks in the curve seem to block up our road, but we managed
to pass by them on the right, with the assistance of the sails,
close to the left shore towards S.E., and away in the bend to E. by
S. Half-past seven. S.E. by E., and then a quarter before eight right
round; six huntsmen’s tokuls being near a sand-bank on the lower
shore of the projection of the left side of the river. We halt on the
left by a shallow island clothed with low verdure towards S.S.W.,
and intend to stop here to-day and to-morrow to make observations,
and the most needful repairs to the vessels and sails.
Suliman Kashef shot yesterday evening, at a gazelle-hunt, a large
antelope, called by the Arabs Tete, in the foreleg, shattering
it to pieces; the animal fell twice, but made off at last on three
legs. Sabatier and I had chosen the left wing, and concealed ourselves
with one of my servants in the high grass: the former fired and
missed. The cracked earth displayed a magnificent soil: the grass,
standing thickly in tufts, reached up to our breast, and was a great
obstacle at the beginning of our rapid march. It was still green
at the bottom, and the present desiccation of the ground, on which
we remarked everywhere the traces of footsteps of wild beasts, and
their dung, might therefore have only taken place a short time. This
grass, narrow and three-edged, with cylindrical spikes, formed the
principal produce of the soil. Less common was the grass similar
to our species with flat two-edged leaves; it had knotty stalks
like the three-edged, but a couple of spikes grew together on each
blade (I have remarked this previously), which unfortunately were
not yet at maturity, and therefore very small. The third species
of grass consisted of slender reeds, cropped and sprouting anew,
or trod on the ground. I perceived, also, some bamie growing wild,
and birds’ nests of grass hanging on it.
I had lost sight of my comrade; and although at the commencement of
my excursion I had seen the vessels sailing up the river at my side,
it soon became dark. Suliman Kashef, however, had the sagacity on
his return to the vessels, to order the reeds to be set on fire
as signals, so that luckily I found my way back, though sinking
every now and then up to the knees into the deep foot-prints of
hippopotami close to the river,—a further proof that the shores,
being only slightly elevated, form shallow lakes here at the rainy
season, which are not dried up so soon.
I had taken a short walk previously on the left shore. The very
same appearances of water remaining behind were visible, and I
found muscles on the dry ground, amongst which were the Erethria
ovata. Long traces of little deposits of earth, which, on closer
examination, I discovered to be dams against the high water on the
shore itself; and the alluvial reeds in conjunction with the muscles,
make me conjecture that the Sobàt ascends over its shores here,
as in many other places. Behind these low deposits lay an unlimited
stubble-field on the other side of the village which lies on a gently
ascending hill, elevated perhaps by the remains of clay walls,
and stretching far beyond the horizon. The better kind of tokuls
have frequently a roof, but the eaves only project inconsiderably:
the smaller ones have a round form of roof, low sleeping places
and reed-hedges being between them. Dinkas are said to dwell there;
but not a person, not a living creature, is to be seen. Thermometer,
sunrise, 17°; noon, 28°; sunset, 26°.
_19th March._—We all dine together in the open air, after an
antelope-hunt. The island on which we are, is, properly speaking, a
large broad sand-bank, about a quarter of an hour long: its somewhat
elevated back is covered with verdure, and is connected with the
shore on the right at low water-mark. Purslane (Arabic Rigli) is
found very commonly upon it; we see also numerous birds fishing in
the many tongue-shaped segments of the upper part, and, in fact,
sharing among themselves the narrow lake on the high right shore,
close to which is a village, from whence the people have likewise
fled. These feathered occupants seem to remove very seldom from this
happy place. The antelopes presented themselves in great numbers;
but Suliman Kashef’s body-guard, though generally good shots, did
not know the huntsman’s custom of dividing and forming a chain,
so as to catch the herd in the middle. I had no inclination, either,
to join in such a surrounding of the game; for these Turks fire as
if they were shooting in files, and their guns carry far, and are
always recommended to the care of the supreme Allàh.
_20th March._—Departure at a quarter after nine o’clock, with a
favourable north-east wind, without sails, S.S.W. and S.W. by W.,
where, on the right, behind the high shore, a village lies in the
bend to the left, and below it a broad sand-bank, on which some
long-legged water-fowls are wandering about. We leave at the right
side another sand-bank exactly similar to the former, throwing its
shallows far beyond the middle of the river, and halt, S.S.E. at the
right shore at half-past ten o’clock. Suliman Kashef’s halberdiers
bring eight antelopes, one of which I procure, being the largest of
the Tete species. This specimen is now in the Zoological Museum at
Berlin as a _nova species_.
The shores have widened here, and fall off in an angle of 45° to
50°: though they appear on this account lower, yet it is plainly
visible by the steeper places, that they always become higher. It
is only below in the places where the river beats against, that the
bluish clay is seen: the remaining part of the shores has, apparently,
merely constituents of the same, as is the case in most places where
the high water has not washed away the crust of humus crumbling from
above and covering the base of the surface; for the original soil
discloses itself immediately under the covering of earth, as is seen
in precipices, and clefts in rocks caused by water. The river has
also thrown or deposited thick layers on the shores. We must not be
deceived here by observing various strata of earth mixed above and
below with sand; this is a later alluvial deposit.
A pure layer of clay is never to be seen, however, in these tracts
of strata, so far as I have remarked here and on the Nile. If it
does appear, it lies either as the foundation of the whole, below on
the banks of the water, as on the Nile; for all the ground there is
alluvial and earthy deposits, gained when the high water is drawn
off; or it rises, as in the Sobàt, with the talus of the shores
to the surface, which is covered with a crust of humus. The Sobàt
dug a bed for itself in firm clay-ground that resisted the water,
and remained tolerably constant in the trench opened by it, without
having altered its course, for no gohrs are seen on dry ground;
but perhaps, in some places, it has flowed over its bed, and formed
channels. On the contrary, the White Stream wallowed for a long time
in the deep slime of an emptied lake, before it threw up solid dams,
on which there are marshy forests, as on the old shores. This long
valley-basin lies also on a layer of clay.
The Sobàt may be considered as a further boundary of the peninsula of
Sennaar, and have given to the latter the name of Gesira. Certainly
it has been, like the Blue Nile, a main-road for the tribes of the
highlands of Ethiopia to the valleys of these countries; and this
must have been especially the case because it has no accompanying
marsh-lakes. Such nations could not have wound down from the mountains
of Bari and the highlands there, by reason of the many marshes; for
we are not to suppose that nomadic tribes can provide themselves and
families with a stock of provisions for a long journey, or stow entire
herds in their hewn-out trunks of trees (canoes); and it is impossible
that the cattle could have been driven along the shore for their use.
The further I ascend the Sobàt, the plainer I perceive why the right
shore just behind Khartùm appears higher than the left, and why I
could not get rid of the idea that this oblique inclination of the
land was in opposition to the course and the mouth of the Nile, but
still might be explained. The deposit of particles of earth and sand
can only come from above, and will always try to level and equalise
the tracts of land which the Nile covers with showers of rain,
brooks, and rivulets. It is clear that the surface is elevated by
that means, and that, where these washed-away and liquid particles
of earth reach a stream like the White Nile, they are carried down
by it, without the other shore (the left side of the Nile here)
deriving naturally any advantages therefrom.
The high mountain chain of Fàzogl and Habesh mixed, as I conjecture,
its collective waters, owing to a breach in its partition-walls,
and their slime and morasses, and perhaps entire hills of decayed
and corrupted matter connected therewith, filled depths in the
lower valley on the side of the Nile up to the Delta—its most
famous memorial,—and levelled the mountains of the neighbourhood,
when Bertat, Dinka, and the country between the Sobàt and Bari
rivers might have shot up in indomitable strength like artesian
wells. Such catastrophes roll mountains and masses like a brook does
its little pebbles, and throw up the water released from confinement
in the cavities of heights which attract and collect it. A flood
of liquid earth rolled then far and wide from the mountains without
order and with numerous arms, but conformably to nature, the heavy
particles sank. The water itself washed away, smoothed and levelled
the ground. Therefore now we perceive those immeasurable plains on
the Sobàt, whereon beasts cannot hide themselves, and which would
be without shelter in the rainy season, if there were not mountains
and forests in the neighbourhood.
Though it be mathematically proved that the great Nile runs in
a channel as upon an ass’s back, yet we find just the contrary
in the White Nile; but the Sobàt even displays that phenomenon,
although not at this moment, for its shores are emptied, except in
the lowermost grade. They lie and stretch higher than the adjacent
land, being heaped up by the waves of the river; they are, however,
generally narrow dams, only appearing wide in the places where there
are shallow lakes behind in distant connection, or overgrown gohrs,
the grass border of which more easily withstands that deep washing
away than these immeasurable plains, which might be called beautiful
from their splendid soil, if Ceres waved her golden ears, and Pomona
offered shade and fruit. They shew, indeed, but little declination
to the Nile, for which the Sobàt itself affords the best standard,
being stagnant, and its shores only increasing in height here and
there. The shores become higher, as on the great Nile itself; the
less precipitous ones (although this is only local) are deceptive,
as I have remarked several feet difference on the disrupt shore,
and still more on the return voyage. I cannot divest myself of the
idea that a lake has stood here also, or it may be that the surface
of the earth from the region above to this, has been laid flat by
the inundation, similar to the level fields of Egypt.
There is an incredible number of deer on the shores of the Sobàt,
for I can add from my own conviction, so far as my eyes and ears do
not deceive me, that I saw herds of antelopes at least a thousand
strong—the Turks say from three to four thousand. About evening
they shew themselves in immense lines on the bare horizon of the
steppe, stand still, and approach—their tread sounds, in truth,
like the evolutions of distant cavalry; at last, as soon as it is
dark, they separate in the little bushes on the margin of the shore,
to descend to the water. Hitherto I have not been able to seize this
opportunity, because no one would remain with me on account of the
lions and other savage beasts prowling about here, and it did not seem
to me exactly safe, by reason of my close acquaintance with the lion
and his just revenge, to lie alone behind a bush, and shoot some of
the animals at a few paces off. My cook, however, has promised to
accompany me on such sport, when we come again to a suitable place.
We proceeded this afternoon at two o’clock with sails in a
south-easterly direction, and halted for the sake of antelope-hunting
at three o’clock, at the right shore, E.S.E., before the curve
to the right. Four o’clock: we sail to S.S.E., then a bend to
the left, S.E. by E., where we stop again to hunt and also to
remain. An antelope-herd of about sixty head was standing shortly
before at a little distance on the shore, like a flock of goats, in
harmless innocence and anticipating nothing evil. Wild buffaloes,
lions, and hyænas were seen by several of our men: where are
the holes and corners in which these beasts lurk? there must be
mountains. Thermometer, sunrise, 15°; noon, 26°, 27°; from four
to five o’clock, 28°; sunset 26½°.
_21st March._—We sail from our place at half-past six o’clock,
quite quietly, without a drum being beat, and go E.S.E., with a cold
north-east wind. Half-past seven.—From E. Libàhn: again to the
left, E.S.E.; eight o’clock: and then again to the left at nine,
N.N.E., where we stop at the left shore for sport, pretending that
it is owing to the contrary winds.—Oh you Turks!
M. Arnaud now pays himself in skins, which he demands very freely
for “son Altesse,” but which he intends to sell in France at
500 francs the head. Eleven o’clock: we go with libàhn round a
corner, and come to N., whence the river winds again slowly to the
right, N.E. by N. and to E., where we are driven forward and indeed
without sails. I remark here that the lower border of the river is
rocky, with a layer of soft stone under the clay, from which it may
originate, and appearing to be limestone formation, until we break
off the deceitful exterior, and the apparent corrosion by the action
of the atmosphere turns out to be alluvial deposit,—the clay,
however, remaining sticking to the hands like sand. One o’clock:
E.N.E. All the vessels bear up! Four o’clock: three reïs had been
sent forward with the sandàl to sound the water, and the men were
honourable enough to express their conviction that there was still a
watercourse: we shall get now regularly fixed upon every sand-bank. I,
for my part, would like to make yet a good way, for I may stumble
perhaps upon a firmer foundation of stone or something else new. We
proceed, therefore, further,—against Mohammed Ali’s will, and
certainly against Ahmed Basha’s, who may be very much in want of
vessels and men at this moment, without any invasion on the part of
England or France. E. by N., and we squat again. A quarter before
five o’clock: S.E. by E. Water is on the right, but we cannot
get there because the bed of the river is elevated in the middle,
and these banks are magnificently larded with the spiry Conchylia,
which would deprive the vessels instantaneously of their beautiful
caulking. The reïs are sent out again in the sandàl; everyone
is in doubt what is to be done. Suliman Kashef and Selim Capitan
want to return. An island lies in view above. I should like to be
there to make observations, but that cannot be. Thermometer, 17°,
28° to 30°, 27°.
_22nd March._—Suliman Kashef sails back for the sake of the chase;
two other vessels follow: obedience seems renounced. I go to the
island and shoot two antelopes, dark as it was. No artifice, such
as I have already related, was necessary in this neighbourhood.
_23rd March._—We set out indeed at seven o’clock in the morning
for the return voyage, but stop soon again, notwithstanding the
favourable wind at the right shore, because deer are seen close
to it. The Sobàt and the Blue river might be conduits for the
high land, like the Tigris and Euphrates, Indus and Ganges were
for the valley-land, made subsequently fit for the nourishment
of nations. Tradition and history up to our time, teach us that
Nature was not powerful enough, and perhaps did not wish it, to
form everlasting barriers between nations, whether seas, rivers,
or mountains; for the destination of man is perfectability, which
can only be attained by mutual commercial intercourse.
Was Africa, therefore, although in the same latitude as other
countries,—for example, Arabia,—exclusively created for the black
species, who, so far as I have had experience of them, will never
leave the low grade of intelligence in which they have been for
so long a time, until they come into a closer and more continuous
association with whites? Anthropophagy, indeed, makes the Nile the
partition-wall between Asia and Africa, instead of the Isthmus of Suez
and the Red Sea. Our Sobàt (as also perhaps the White river, unless
the black people from below ascended here after the drying up of that
part assumed by me to have been a lake, which may be almost taken
for granted if we consider the affinity of languages from the Dinka
country to Bari,) drew down probably only a black race,—a younger
stem, I conjecture, than that of Caucasus,—between which and the
nations of the Nile there is a total difference in colour and manners.
Habesh, like a second Cashmere, might be the cradle of white men;
no less than Arabia, lying opposite, which has nourished perhaps the
same species, but burnt by the sun;—and if a black race shot up
here instead of the white, the rivers of High Asia that disembogue
on this side were large enough to import white people. The Red Sea
and the Persian Gulf must, indeed, at the very earliest time, have
formed nearly insurmountable obstacles, if antediluvian shipbuilding,
even without Noah’s ark, had not brought about cultivation, and
caused the necessity of exertion and the desire of emigration; and
who will answer for it that the Red Sea was not at one time a Tempe,
so that an excursion to Africa might have been made under the shade
of rose and orange trees? The divulsed coasts, the washed-away sharp
rocks of the dangerous shallows, and the submarine mountains, might
easily indicate that there was once a small irruption.
Habesh might have been the real mother country of Nubia and Egypt,
by means of the fecundation brought from Asia. Nuba negroes mixed
with the whites, and became masters of the country, until they were
forced back to their mountains in Kordofàn,—still remaining a
pure race, and nothing being left of the whole Egyptian policy but
circumcision. The black nation on the Nile might have been separated
from that in Habesh by a cordon; and both of these tribes preferred,
on cultivation increasing, a comfortable life in the city to the
free one in the mountains, until the Romans connected again Habesh
and Egypt, and built Axum.
The shores of the Sobàt have hitherto been without wood; but I saw,
upon the shore behind the island just left by us, a row of trees,
said to be Döbkers, and probably were so; for I recognised the
little solitary shrubs, in which I and my servants had groped about
till late at night, to be young shoots of Döbkers, which seem to
have sprung up this year at high-water; and also nebek and telle. I
found water-thistles on the shore above in unusual abundance, and
collected also that clay which appeared to me previously to be a
layer of stone. It was not quite free from fine sand, which the
water had washed on the shore, and exhibited, therefore, a rough,
stone surface, without being so yet. But where it lay piecemeal about
the shore it was as hard and black as stone saturated with water,
and dried or burnt by the sun, for that luminary has the power,
with the assistance of rain, of vitrifying rocks; and we have seen
ourselves such greenish ridges and blocks in the Nubian deserts.
According to Girard, the specimens I brought from the shores of
the Sobàt consist of a micaceous sand, dark-brown, ochrous clay,
chalky sand, and partly of a conglomerate composed of small fragments
of limestone baked together by the sun. The sand, where it is pure,
consists of several little yellowish grains of quartz, a small portion
of reddish feldspar, some brown iron-stone, little brown tombac-mica,
and a black mineral consisting of small grains, the nature of which
could not be exactly ascertained. These materials indicate that the
origin of the sand is derived from a mica-slate and gneiss mountain
not far distant; for if the sand were far from the mountain whence
it originated, it would not contain coloured mica.
An incredible number of potsherds were found below on the flat
shore which is deserted by the river. I thought to pick up pieces
of brick, but I soon discovered that they were fragments of that
kind of murhàka which the Shilluks bake from the mixed mud of
the Nile, owing to the want of stones. I did not discover any
remains of villages on the shore; they appear, however, to lie
upon the high gohrs, and the pools arising therefrom, as if upon
the primitive shore. These gohrs of the Sobàt running parallel,
and lying actually twenty feet higher,—at times, also, displaying
higher dams or shores than the river itself, indicate moreover that
the river in its young days flowed wider than it does now, without
deviating from its direction, so far as I have hitherto observed. I
had an opportunity of convincing myself of what I have stated above,
at the village in the neighbourhood of which I was shooting, and where
I saw two ostriches. Nevertheless these potsherds are testimonies
either of a previous and considerable population of the surrounding
country, and even the hill covered with shrubs above the potsherds
might have supported a village, or that more people dwell above than
we should have supposed; and the pieces of murhàkas may be a sign
that neither stones nor mountains are near at hand, and that the arts
did not flourish; for all these fragments were of rude origin. We
have never discovered traces of any finer vessels of terra-cotta,
or pieces of glass, enamel, or delft ware, such as we find in Egypt.
When the antelopes come to drink, for which they have room
enough,—for instance, yesterday evening—on the extensive plain,
they appear drawn up as if in line of battle, but run away like
a flock of sheep—yet not so close together—as soon as danger
threatens. These animals, so numerous here, might be easily tamed and
fed by the hand of man, if arms did not prevent such friendship;
the lion and hyæna, besides, keep them in constant fear and
trembling, and take a tenth part and more of them, in spite of
all their innocence, as we have seen by the remains of saraffes
and gazelles. Perhaps, the great lord of beasts, with whom I came
so closely in contact that it was only necessary for him to make a
spring, to set his teeth in my bit of Adam’s flesh, had made such
a feast on venison before we met.
It is surprising that I have not hitherto seen any mouse-holes or
mole-hills; the inundation and rains may be the cause of this,
and we have not gone from the river into the interior of the
country. The Schudder-el-Fas (axe-tree, _mimosa sensitiva?_) common
in Bellet Sudan, is seen on the shore itself,—a shrub spreading
like brambles, with small delicate acacia leaves, a similar sort
of pods, flesh-coloured button-flowers, and barbed thorns. If its
twigs be touched with an axe, or a knife, or merely knocked with the
finger, its leaves immediately close (from fear, as the Arabs say)
as if they were withered. I have not yet been able to procure ripe
seeds of this shrub.
M. Arnaud makes a section, but not where the water running upon a
shallower place allows a more accurate calculation to be made, but
there where the river is full,—namely, in these basins, in which
the water underneath is stagnant, whilst that on the surface moves
as slowly as we have seen the Atbara, which has the very same deep
basins. The public will therefore read of a mighty mass of water,
said to be carried by the Sobàt to the Nile: the breadth of the
river amounts here, as below, to one hundred and thirty mètres.
The section is therefore made, and we proceed at noon. The strong wind
breaks in two the sail-yard of the vessel commanded by the Arnaut,
Mohammed Aga, because Selim Capitan paid no attention to it, though
it was rotten,—and so was the whole vessel.
We land afterwards at our peninsula or sand-bank, where there is
a settlement of six tokuls. The poor inhabitants of these little
straw huts were perhaps those whom Thibaut observed when setting
out from hence, and who covered the whole island like a swarm
of flies; whereupon he slily retreated. I rather think that my
European fellow-travellers are afraid of my being an eyewitness
of their doings and acts, lest I should accuse them of falsehood,
or laugh at them when they exaggerate some small circumstance, or
pretend to have seen wonders, and gone through frightful adventures
with courage: and yet they give all this out of their journals to
their attentive listeners. It is really as good as a play to see
them. Arnaud and Sabatier have separate cabins in the same vessel;
and, as soon as one has gone on deck, ashore, or on board another
vessel, the other tries to find out the hiding-place of his journal,
in order principally to read what is said of him. If Arnaud abuses
Sabatier, the latter gets in a rage; but on our persuasion rests
satisfied with threats, and sits down and writes against Arnaud
in his journal: then he leaves it carelessly lying about, and goes
away directly Arnaud enters, and the latter, immediately his back
is turned, seizes it and reads it. Thus they read their notes and
diaries in secret, and then I have the pleasure of hearing all about
it from Thibaut and Sabatier, who come on board my bark.
Though Sabatier and Arnaud have related the history of their hunting
two little marafills, the latter has not hesitated to write down
that he came close upon two lions (whereas he only saw two hyænas
running at a distance, whom Sabatier observed at the same time),
because he is jealous, as his countrymen tell me, of my chivalry
with the lion. He describes, also, antelope, lion, and crocodile
hunts with similar Münchausen stories.
Our tokul inhabitants seem to have gained a little confidence,
although they do not shew themselves, for they have tied up a
sucking-calf close to their huts, which Suliman Kashef takes
immediately into his possession. We have here a proof that the
water is still falling, which I had not previously thought: this was
the case in the peninsula to the extent of a foot, and we shall be
obliged to go over the nearest oyster-bank, after we have remained
here half a day, or perhaps the whole, to make the Arnaut’s vessel
again in proper sailing trim. Thermometer 16°, 27°, 29°.
We find here, near the Sobàt, that the impregnation of iron oxyde,
which is frequently so strong, is only in the earth brought down
from above, in all the humus, and also in the coagulated layers of
sand under or between the humus, but not in the drifted sand. There
is no trace of it in the clay; it is therefore perhaps a primitive
deposit,—the lime or cement of the ancient world. From this
appearance of iron oxyde, which is not inferior to that on the
upper part of the White river, the Sobàt might provide Bellet
Sudàn and Egypt with iron, if the protecting hobgoblins of the
mines be first driven away. Whether the Sobàt leads to gohrs of
gold would be worth investigation, but the sand of this region
has not the least appearance of it. For that very reason Arnaud is
projecting an immediate expedition up the Sobàt this summer to the
gold sources. Oh enviable Viceroy of Egypt, around whom charlatans
of every kind have drawn a line, within the circle of which no one
can penetrate but Italians of similar calibre, may your eyes be
closed against gold-dust! At noon we set out from our halting-place,
partly with libàhn and partly sailing, glide here and there over
oyster-banks, and soon stick fast again on the sand.
_25th March._—Sate Mohammed and Sale lay down yesterday to
sleep close by, instead of going to shoot. I felt hungry, and had
not prepared anything: the cook gazed stupidly in the distance;
and I was obliged to eat soft biscuit and drink water. No sooner
had I taken this than I felt unwell, and continued so till this
morning. Thibaut seems to be possessed with the most trivial
jealousy; he cannot understand, like all the rest, what I have to
write so continually. The old monotony of the shores has hitherto
continued. Only this morning two groups of naked Dinkas shewed
themselves on the shores, without running away from us. They brought
even goats and sheep with them; but we sailed by, and halted at noon
near the dhellèbs, where several groups of fishermen’s huts stood
here and there on the shore. Thermometer 17° to 30°; sunset 28°.
_26th March._—The wind is favourable; but Arnaud wants to
renew his sections, in order to make the world believe that the
Sobàt gives more water than the White river. He is fishing about,
therefore, in the deep places, and a fall has made its appearance,
which was invisible to other eyes. Yesterday evening I said to
him, accidentally, that I had an attack of fever the day before,
accompanied with vomiting and diarrhœa. He immediately complained of
his health, and said that he was suffering under tertian ague, and
dropped a hint that Khartùm was very unhealthy, in which I agreed,
experience having taught me the same; but I saw clearly what he
meant—he intends to play the invalid, and will certainly become
worse in Khartùm itself, so as to induce the Basha to let him go
to Metemma, where he will find more lucrative work in examining the
ruins there than in composing his map. He eats and drinks, however,
like men in good health—is active on his legs, even when there
is nothing doing—shakes his round head, talks to himself, lays
his finger on his nose, and looks first to the sky and then to the
ground so quickly that his straw hat, adorned as it is with a large
knot of ribbons, in the Tyrolean style, flaps up and down. A Turkish
under-cap and this hat cover his partly bald head, on which he has
let a pigtail grow, to make up for the loss of his hair at a future
time. He stands still, and then sets off running: we call him, but
his profound meditations will not allow him to answer. The Turks say,
in short, that he is _magnuhn_ (crazed). His usual expression to the
others, “_Je le sais tout_,” is worthy of a man of such varied
acquirements as he pretends to be; but he does not dare say so to
me. When the time comes that he puts on the appearance of sickness,
he orders Thibaut to be summoned, and makes the latter understand,
if he does not perceive directly the illness of his lord and master,
that he is unwell, and not inclined for work, and therefore wants to
have a little chat with him. Thibaut sits down very quietly, yawns
now and then, and answers “_Oui Monsieur_” to all his remarks,
and thus are the rays of these great minds reflected. But Arnaud
truly is an all-comprehensive genius! After he has spoken a little
about the way to make money, &c., it pleases him to fall into a kind
of somnambulism, which will be attributed subsequently to feverish
delirium—talks some hodgepodge about constellations and declining
spheres, which he means, however, to put in order, and then all at
once turns the conversation from stars to his property in the moon,
or to a royal princess, whose favours he has refused—all in most
beautiful harmony with what he tries, at other times, to impose on
the world. During all this scene Sabatier sits in his cabin, and is
nearly bursting with laughter. “_Relata refero_.”
We navigate part of to-day with a good wind, and may, therefore,
easily reach the Nile. The more I ascend the Sobàt, the more I am
convinced how the shore and land fall away towards the Nile; and
yet the former appeared to me high at first, without, however, being
much higher; but then we came from the Nile, which is shoreless. The
Sobàt on the tract navigated by us is like the shore of the Nile
near Kàhira, and the more ancient high shores in Nubia. The greater
gradation of its shores at a distance indicate a chain of mountains
in the neighbourhood, or an unusually strong falling away of the
slope in the highlands, which is certainly not far distant.
That the Sobàt should still retain its old channel when on the
point of discharging itself into the Nile, as it seems to do at the
upper part, is very improbable, because I saw to-day from the deck
merely a gohr on its left side, at the end of the forest above,
and perhaps flowing into it as usual at high water. Moreover, the
alluvial soil at the lower end of the Sobàt was contrary to the
nature of such soft deposits, and very certainly belonged to that
which I have considered a Nile lake, the reach of which might always
elevate the Sobàt sufficiently high. The undulating ground extending
from the river, and running parallel to it, displays still furrows
caused by the marshes having ebbed away, and the Sobàt, rushing
over it afterwards, flowed without opposition wherever it liked,
and might even have separated into several arms.
_27th March._—Yesterday afternoon we arrived at the mouth of the
Sobàt, and remain here to-day to make observations; but if the strong
north wind do not change, we shall not be able to advance. Yesterday
evening another man was carried dead from our vessel, who would not
eat, and drank nothing but water from the Sobàt. A species of marsh
hyacinth, having scent, was found by Thibaut. It has little bulbs,
but spreads and increases by shoots from the root. Arnaud, who is
never at a loss for a name, declares that a beautiful water-bird,
with perfect web feet, which we remark, is the Phœnix.
The Shilluks came this morning from the opposite shore, and asked
us to barter with them. This afternoon a Sheikh came to us (unless
he was an impostor, as the one on our ascent was) and invited us to
come _without fear_ to their city, which was close at hand, and said
that cows, poultry, &c. would be brought to us. He himself presented
us a cow, for which we gave him a ferda. At four o’clock we were
able to proceed with oars: we navigate to E. and E.N.E. The shores
are surprisingly elevated since we were here, and a considerable
drainage of water, probably the last one, seems especially to have
taken place within these few days. The Nile is not broader here than
the Sobàt. Dry grass-reeds at the right; large hillocks of decayed
ant-castles at the left. Five o’clock, N.E.; the foot of an island
on the left, behind which the river becomes broad, and a group of
Shilluks are stationed there on the ground, whilst further below
they have taken possession of the ant-hills, and stand in the form
of a pyramid. The Turks are dreadfully afraid of these people, and
say that they are “batalin” (bad), because they are aware that
the Shilluks know them well. Feïzulla Capitan has had a number of
cartridges made for his pistols, and Selim Capitan wears his thick
white woollen trousers, and not without cause.
Soon after five o’clock we stop, conformably to the wisdom of
our high dignitaries, at the uninhabited right shore, which is
considerably higher than the left, and belongs to the country of the
Dinkas, whilst the Shilluks appear to possess the mouth of the Sobàt,
although not protected by forts and guns. Suliman Kashef was pursued
a few days ago by a lion, notwithstanding he had four halberdiers
with him, but he happily escaped the danger. To shew his gratitude
to Allah, he gave every one of his crew twenty-five piasters.
CHAPTER XI.
THE SHILLUKS, A VITIATED PEOPLE. — CAUSE OF THE VIOLENT RAINS IN
INNER AFRICA. — REFUSAL OF THE SULTAN OF THE SHILLUKS TO VISIT THE
VESSELS. — DESCRIPTION OF A SPECIES OF GRASS. — BARTER WITH THE
SHILLUKS. — CONQUEST OF THEIR COUNTRY NOT DIFFICULT. — FORM OF
THEIR BOATS. — AMBAK RAFTS. — IRON RARELY FOUND AMONG THE EGYPTIAN
ANTIQUITIES. — WORSHIP OF TREES BY THE SHILLUKS: THEIR RELIGIOUS
RITES. — STARS IN THE SOUTHERN REGIONS OF AFRICA. — SHILLUK
WOMEN: THEIR DRESS. — REFUSAL OF THE MEN TO SELL THEIR ARMS. —
THE BAGHÀRAS: THEIR DRESS, ETC. — RE-APPEARANCE OF THE ISLAND
PARKS, AND MOUNT DEFAFAÙNGH. — ASCENT OF THIS MOUNTAIN, AND FULL
DESCRIPTION OF IT. — THE DINKAS: THEIR LOVE FOR OLD CUSTOMS. —
DESERTION OF TWO DINKA SOLDIERS, AND REFUSAL OF THEIR COUNTRYMEN TO
GIVE THEM UP. — SHEIKS SEIZED, AND DESERTERS RECOVERED.
_28th March._—We navigated to the neighbouring island, and passed
by it on the left, N.E. by N., just as the sun was rising. Where is
the meat that was to be put to-day into the Egyptian flesh-pots? The
Shilluks will be delighted at having tricked the Turks, for they are
really an extremely vitiated people. According to nature, corruption
of morals cannot take place in the very earliest stage of life,
and there might have been, therefore, a previous cultivation here
which has now disappeared, and left only the bad parts behind. But
how could they have gone back to the naked state? Slight clothing is
even necessary here: a people that has once worn a fig-leaf never
throws it off, although a cynic here and there may choose to lead
a free dog-life.
We labour with oars, yet all is in vain against the north wind; the
river itself remains on the average N.W. as far as Khartùm. About
nine o’clock we halt at the right shore, and see herds and villages
of the Shilluks opposite to us; but we must make our appetites
disappear again—“_Quid juvat adspectus, si non conceditur
usus!_” Really it was very vexatious; and in addition thereto,
the new moon has appeared for the last two days, and yet my bold
countryman whistles and roars, which is so very unusual at this time
that we conclude the same phenomena is taking place on the Nile.
It has been considered as a thing decided that the periodical
north winds blow the rain from the Mediterranean Sea against the
mountain terrace of Habesh. But these are winds which blow also on
the Western Ocean, along the coast of Africa, and find no opposition
on the sea and further beyond: the periodical gales cannot ride at
anchor so conveniently on the not very high mountains of Habesh
and last until the counter gust from India ensues, or until the
clouds have impregnated all the air of Habesh, and at last fall,
from their weight, and bring refreshing rain to the country. The
Mediterranean Sea seems to me to afford too small a tract for the sun
and wind to be able to draw a mass of water from it, like that of a
small deluge. Therefore, I think that quite different phenomena lay
the foundation of these violent rains, and that Habesh, beyond the
equator, may have its conductors of moisture from the Indian Sea, as
well as Egypt by the electrical course of its Nile. Otherwise Habesh
would be enveloped in an eternal sea of clouds, for the north winds
would be bottled up there half a year, and, by the same argument,
the south winds the other six months.
[Illustration: MOUNT LINANJIN, FROM THE ISLAND OF TSHÀNKAR, TOWARDS
SOUTH EAST
27TH JANUARY, 1841.]
According to my views, therefore, the north winds pass over the
mountain of Habesh, which if we take Sennaar, or rather Fazògl, as
ten thousand feet high above the Mediterranean Sea, ought to lie in
analogous elevation, but which assumption, however, does not appear
correct, if we look closely at the mountains of Fazògl. It may be,
then, that the ascent of the ground from the Mediterranean to Fazògl
fills up two-thirds of this height, which may or may not result from
the slight fall of the Nile. General experience teaches us in Germany,
that the west wind, as a rule, brings us too liberal an allowance
of rain. That fountain of ours lies toward the west, in the ocean:
accordingly, the ocean might provide, perhaps, the valleys of both
the Niles and their neighbourhood with similar rains, at periodical
winds, the uninterrupted effusion of which during the hariffs (rainy
season) may be derived from other causes, and perhaps may be sought
for in the monsoons.
I found the tokuls of the Shilluks slightly arched: but just now I
see a few higher vaults, somewhat like the Italian cupolas. They are
too high to be called Roman arches. The Romans might have derived
their arch from the sky; the Italians adopt the oblique form: every
part ought to be light, slender, and tending towards the centre. The
tokuls must be considered as the oldest buildings in Africa. Continual
rain necessitated good and secure covering, and a sheaf, tied at the
top, may have suggested the first idea of a tokul, for the violent
showers of rain pierced through the thick horizontal layers of reeds
and straw. Thermometer, 19°, 29°, to 30°; sunset, 28°.
_29th March._—After the north wind had somewhat abated, yesterday
at noon, we pushed on with oars and the rope, and halted on the
evening at the right shore, near the Dinkas, where a village was to
be seen close above, from which the inhabitants had fled. A hillock
extended along the river, resting on a down of the finest white
sand; and this sandy deposit being covered entirely with dome-trees,
mostly young ones, is perhaps the cause why the river is not half
so broad towards this side as previously. The long hollow behind the
shore, up to the neighbouring old shores, displays a scanty forest,
intersected by two arms of the Nile, which, for the moment, are
stopped up above and below. I found, on one dam of earth, remains
of a village that had stood here previously. Our crew did not lose
the opportunity of setting them on fire, without thinking of sparing
the young dome-palms. The proximity of lions is now alleged as the
excuse for the necessity of fires, although we have seen none since
those on the Sobàt, always excepting the ones described by Arnaud in
his journal, whom he attacked chivalrously, with his Fortunatus-cap.
The direction, yesterday, in which we navigated, deviated more
northerly from N.E., whilst to-day we go N.E. in more easterly
declinations. The north-east wind is therefore against us; but we
are happy at having escaped from the confined talus of the solitary
Sobàt. Our left shore presented us yesterday, and to-day, dhellèbs
and some villages in the most charming situation, two of which I
sketched, and afforded us continually the sight of a green forest,
whilst the right shore displayed only a bare tract and several
villages of the Dinka country, concealed from us previously by
the high reeds. Dinkas and Shilluks hold the points of their broad
spears directed towards the ground, according to the custom of the
nations above, and do not throw them, probably as a sign of their
friendly intentions. The spears are decorated at the extreme end
with a little bit of fur or pelt, which, perhaps, is of the same use
in the javelins as the feathers of arrows among other nations. The
Shilluks and Dinkas have not any bows and arrows; and the latter
weapon, which is entirely without feathers in these regions, was no
longer seen after we passed the Nuèhrs, who dwell up the river. We
halt in the afternoon, firstly, at the shore of the Shilluks, near a
little hamlet, close to which is the capital or residence-village of
the Sultan of the Shilluks, whom we had invited even before we left
the Sobàt to honour us with his presence, so that we might present
him with dresses and other beautiful things. But he preferred to
remain where he was, and perhaps removed further, or intended to
send us an usurper of his name, as he did the last time.
When we landed, inquiries were made for what peculiar reason we
had come there—whether with friendly or hostile intentions;
and one messenger after the other was sent to us, to know whether
we wished peace or war, because Turks had _never_ before presented
themselves in this place. It was no answer to them to say that our
object was merely to navigate and survey the river; and the Mek did
not appear on the scene, still fearing, perhaps, treachery—nay,
even kidnapping. I should like to see, however, the faces of the
_good_ Turks, if the Sultan, who they suppose is afraid of them as
the conquerors of the world, should appear all of a sudden behind
the sunt trees, with a suite of some thousand broad lances!
Those trees have astonished me by their strength, being about four
feet in diameter, and by their powerful and now shady branches. The
bark of the lower part of the trunk and the stronger boughs is
of a dirty dark-brown colour; and the latter, together with the
smaller branches, are like those of the lindentree. The small
prickles are seen only sparingly on the boughs hanging down, and
the whole present strength of the trees, which have been deserted
by the water since our ascent, seems to lie more in the crisped and
delicate foliage. The grass, which rose previously so luxuriantly
from the water, lies now like a thick layer of straw; it appears to
continue lying on the ground like the couch-grass—yet not in the
proper sense of the word, for its roots are those of grass,—and,
from time to time, to strike root, and also to stand up, if it has
not been kept too long upright by the water, and its slender stalks
have not grown too high. I have remarked this in many places, and
seen both these species at the same time upon the very same root,
the blades having been cropped every now and then, growing crisply,
and standing upright on all sides; it might be, therefore, the
savannah grass, and therefore I secured a specimen of this grass.
I have not been able to ascertain whence the Shilluks and other
tribes derive the little rice, which is also a species of grass. A
specimen of the fruit is also in my possession; it comes up, perhaps,
like wheat. The Shilluks do not seem to be very much afraid: they
are ready to engage in barter, although they do not come quite close
to us. Perhaps they think to drive us away first, by not supplying
us with meat.
_30th March._—There was an _enlightened_ assembly yesterday evening,
on board Suliman Kashef’s vessel: all the lanterns of the Turks
were lighted, and were fixed around it. There is nothing done now
without light; we are recalled, therefore, from the chase by lanterns,
even if it be only dusk. I proposed, yesterday, either to present
ourselves _in propriâ personâ_ to the Mek, at his residence close
by (said to be only two hours distant), or to receive him in the
open air, if he could be persuaded to come, and not to invite him
on board the vessels, according to the favourite custom, because
in that case, he might probably turn back. They agreed with me,
and—there the matter ended. The boats of the Shilluks exceed in
size and solidity those of all the other tribes. This people also
frequently place two trees together, and bind them together at the
bottom by ropes. Their boats have long peaks, and carry twenty to
thirty men, sitting in a line behind one another. The different
colour of the bark of the talles—I had seen them previously red,
and now of a palish green—seems to depend on the nature of the soil.
The royal cranes, so often mentioned, are in extraordinary quantities
here, and we provide ourselves abundantly with them, but got very
few other birds. They keep together in flocks, and walk now on the
dry old river-bed, which consists of the most fruitful earth, and
extends at two hundred paces distant from the Nile. This ancient,
flat, and choked-up bed of the Nile, being subject to inundations,
is perhaps the place between which and the country beyond the vigorous
forest was planted; for I remarked yesterday, that the forest stands
more under the horizontal line than on the rising of the shores.
Just now Fadl and Sale came from the Shilluks, some of whom have
encamped at a tolerable distance from the river. I did not accompany
them, because the natives would infallibly have gone away again, if
they had seen a white countenance, as that is connected in their minds
with a Turkaui. A broad spear could not be procured from them; they
said that every one had his spear, and ought to keep it: moreover,
they gave my men to understand that their Mek would not appear until
we had also a sultan on board, and that we ourselves had come to
their land as spies. Two of them were tolerably conversant in the
Arabic language, but very few of the others understood it. One of
them possessed a small elephant’s tooth, as my servants further
related, but the glass beads I had given them were not sufficient
to purchase it, nor a sheep. They do not despise ornaments, and
were presented with abundance of white, thick glass beads (the blue
are not esteemed); but they prefer, however, objects of real value,
and wanted, for example, half a ferda for the sheep. They said that
they were frequently visited by Gelabis (slave-dealers, merchants),
and that even the day before yesterday, they (the Shilluks) had been
visited by some of them, who had come from Khartùm on camels, and
brought cotton goods, ferdas, beads, &c., which they had exchanged
for cows, teeth, honey, simsim, and kurbàks. A cow costs a ferda,
and such a piece of cotton stuff is valued as money, for we never
see them clothed in it.
It is a striking circumstance, that a merchant is esteemed by them
almost a sacred person; however, I would not recommend any white man
to undertake this business here, if he does not wish to be murdered
as a _much-beloved_ Turkaui.
_31st March._—We leave our landing-place at three o’clock,
without having seen the sultan of one of the largest, if not the
very largest nation of the White Nile. Another fellow, however,
who came, pretended to be the Sheikh-el-Bellet (according to him, a
son or relation of the sultan and his envoy), and was presented with
pearls and a piece of calico conformably to the Turkish policy. We
halt for the night at the left shore. A very large number of black
ibes are remarked on the trees: their flesh has a fine flavour.
_1st April._—Now that I know something of the country of the
Shilluks, which on the whole, perhaps, only amounts to a tract of
shore, the conquest of it, as well as of the land of the Dinkas,
does not appear to me very difficult from this side, even if the
Shilluks were determined to offer real resistance. The army could
defile (that is, in the dry season) along the shores up the stream,
and cover the towing-path, which is necessary here, owing to the south
winds, and the vessels could carry the provisions; there is no Haba
either to fear here, as in Taka. Certainly such an expedition would be
only to press soldiers, or perhaps also to subdue the whole country;
for as to other treasures, they are not to be acquired, except the
large herds, from which the future tribute might be drawn. If Ahmed
Basha, however,—for I have him in my eye,—could once raise an
army of these black devils of Shilluks and Dinkas, whom he himself
allows to possess the greatest courage, _then_ he might think of
other and more profitable conquests.
That broad, choked-up gohr, of which I spoke previously, seems to
continue, and perhaps does so always with the old high shores, which,
however, may be distant enough. They are now invisible on both sides,
and the new shores are mutually of the same height as they have been
for some days. Notwithstanding this, I must still assert that the
Dinka land lies higher than that of the Shilluks, and that both the
barrenness of the former and the dense wood of the country on the
left shore are derived from this cause. On the other hand I have
altered the opinion expressed on the ascent, that we ought to keep
in view only the old or high shores, in composing a map; although it
would be extremely instructive to mark them on the charts, for the
present shores are high enough here at least—about five or six,
and up to ten feet at our landing-place—to be considered as shores.
We make the bend from N.E. to E., and the Gebl-el-Dinka or
Defafaùngh seems to peep forth down the river before us, but it
is only a delusion. The villages, or rather the long-tailed city of
the Shilluks, Jemmati, Gennap, called by the Arabs therefore perhaps
Dennap, advances with its groups of houses and forest to the margin
of the river, and crowds of people have collected shortly below our
landing-place. We halt at the left shore a little before sunset,
which is at present charmingly decorated with grass and trees;
the former, however, only below on the flat strand.
_2nd April._—Some Shilluks from the neighbouring village were
on the shore, but drew back a short distance when they saw me
coming. I had experienced a violent perspiration in the night,
for we had yesterday evening 30° Reaumur in our cabin, where not a
breath of air was stirring, and therefore, being in a perspiration,
I had just now thrown over me my burnus, under which certainly a
gun might be very easily concealed. The Shilluks are not generally
timid, especially if they be in a body. It were, in truth, too much
to expect that they should prove their courage, in a small troop
and armed merely with shield and spear, against guns that hit at a
distance, and send invisible and inevitable death.
Their little floating vessels, which we see so frequently standing
against the trees on the shore, serving as fishing-boats, and also
for crossing to the opposite side, consist in the Nile merely of a
bundle of reeds, and have the form of a flat skiff, obtuse at the
stern, because the ambaks are joined together at the slender end,
and tied in three or four layers one over the other to make the
vessel broader behind: there are two holes at the bottom for the
feet. They go quickly, and a long flat oar is used to propel them
along, as in the other boats: their name is generally with the
Arabs, toff, and with the Baràbras, geïhga. The ambak rafts that
come from Sennaar, or Rossères to Khartùm, are large, and carry a
freight of one hundred ardepps of durra. A little wood approached
this morning also on the right to the shore, but having no trees
like that of the left shore. I thought previously that the Haba of
the Shilluks was scanty, but I have altered my opinion by ocular
inspection: the trees must appear thin, even at a short distance,
for the stunted thick stems generally stood in the water.
Iron is very rare among the Shilluks as in all Bellet Sudan,
notwithstanding the proximity of Kordofàn; and it does not seem that
the kingdom of Bari has ever provided Ethiopia and Egypt with iron,
for very few instruments and arms made of this metal are found among
the antiquities, but, on the contrary, they are of brass and other
metals. The use of iron, however, is very ancient, and perhaps a black
Tubal Cain may have hammered there long before the tribe accumulated,
sufficiently to shew the characteristics of a nation. If an Ethiopian
tribe descended from Bari, it possibly kept up a communication with
the iron country, from the want of iron in Nubia, though perhaps not
by a direct road; or if only a tradition of iron-mines existed, a
Rhamses or some other great king, might have followed and traced them
out; for the White River was just as accessible as at present, and the
vessels of that age would have found more room for sailing,—that
is, supposing a Dædalus had discovered also sails for Egypt, which
we may suppose to be the case from their sea-voyages, and which is
also confirmed by the hieroglyphics.
It was ascertained yesterday that the Shilluks pasture their cattle
wherever they like. The great inundation of this year has covered
their former pasture-ground with slime, or the water has retreated so
lately that there is not yet sufficient grass, and the little that
has sprung up is already consumed. On account of this want of grass
a large number of Shilluks collected, and armed with broad spears,
drove their cattle from the mouth of the Sobàt down to this part,
and still further to the right shore of the Dinkas. The latter drew
back modestly, and pasture now in the interior, renouncing Nile fish
for the present.
The Shilluks are feared, and particularly because they always go
in bodies, and even descend to pasture as far as the Sagiën of
Mustapha Bey, on the left shore. They behave very peaceably, on
the whole, towards us, principally because their Sultan has ordered
them to avoid giving any cause for strife, and to leave the _good_
Turks in peace. Yet the latter are still in great fear, and Selim
Capitan is very unwilling to pass the night on the left shore, so we
anchor afterwards in the river. We hear in this country, as in Taka,
the greeting of “Habàbä.”
I have convinced myself to-day that the villages visible from the
Nile, standing, as I thought previously, on the old shore—that
is, from the southern part of the Shilluk land down the river till
sunset to-day—do not stand higher than the present shore, and that,
if they appeared to me to lie higher, it arises from the low region
extending behind the shore on both sides of the river, and covered
with water. Every village, however, here lies somewhat high, for the
ground is elevated by itself, through the decay of the old buildings,
and the erection of new ones upon them; or this has been done by the
foresight of the inhabitants, as we have also remarked. We remain
to-day at the right shore; but not any of the people of the country
are to be seen. Thermometer 19°, 30° to 31°, 29°.
_3rd April._—We navigated this morning to N., with a few deviations
to N.N.W., and halted at noon, by reason of the strong wind. Then
we went on to N., and in a bend to W., where a long road stretched
before us. Now, in the afternoon, we sail, and shall navigate longer,
perhaps, than usual, for the Turks are hastening to Khartùm and
its pleasures. The right shore has some trees here and there. The
forest on the left sometimes comes to the shore, and sometimes level
alluvial land separates it from us.
Sabatier and I ate with great _goût_ to-day, on Thibaut’s vessel,
two of the three geese we procured yesterday; but Thibaut had nothing
new to shew us, except a soffeia (funnel for Merissa), brought from
Bari. The people there manage to console themselves for the want of
wine with their African mum, made from durra, as they do in other
places with mead and beer. We stop after sunset at the Dinka shore,
W.N.W., near some trees. Thermometer 18° (cold north-east wind),
29°, and 28°.
_4th April._—To-day again the wind is contrary. We go this morning
N., with easterly deviations, and in the afternoon N.E., with a
few declinations. There are several villages on the left shore;
we halt at the right, and the Shilluks retreat. Suliman Kashef
confirms to day what I had already heard, viz., that the Shilluks
worship a tree. They call it by the general name of Nigàma, which
is said to have been introduced by the Great Sheikh, their ancestor,
the founder of their union as a tribe, the father of the nation,
and their law-giver. Almost every village has such a Nigàma,
which is generally a sunt-tree. The place round it is enclosed,
and the ground is kept very clear. On any misfortune occurring, the
Shilluks throw themselves on their face, under the tree, and call
and cry for assistance. It is considered identical with the holy
founder of their race. Whether he ordered them to act in counsel
after his death under a tree, and to complain to him; or appointed
the tree as a mediator, through which they might converse with him;
or, lastly, he may have been buried under such a tree, which thus
became an object of veneration; and subordinate Nigàmas spread then
with the increase of population. Moreover, the holy circuit of the
Nigàma affords an asylum even to the enemy, and also to snakes,
toads, and other animals, which are even considered sacred during
their abode there, and fed with milk. A similar canonization of rats
and mice is represented in the Egyptian temples. The Shilluks hang
cows’ tails, tufts of hair, &c., on the Nigàmas, as sacrifices.
The germ of gratitude is undeniably planted in the heart of human
beings, as in that of animals; and the man of nature who does not
enter into more abstruse speculations will not destroy what does good
to him, but, on the contrary, foster and cherish it; then comes love,
and gradually veneration is paid to it. Idolatry, though often made
absurd and laughable enough by superstition and individual notions,
may have arisen originally from natural instinct, and is, perhaps,
spread throughout all the countries on the Nile, though we have not
been able to obtain satisfactory information on this subject from want
of a dragoman, even had he only been slightly intelligent, and able
to comprehend the questions properly. But this much appears certain,
that the object of veneration among these nations does not dwell
high in heaven. They had no knowledge of the worship of a Supreme
Being. Perhaps their gods stand around them, or walk friendly with
them, and eat out of their cribs. Even beasts, injurious or fatal
to man, may receive gratitude and veneration from them in return
for some instance of magnanimity. Thermometer 20°, 29°, and 28°.
_5th April._—We have stopped since yesterday at a narrow and bare
island near the Shilluks, to make astronomical observations, and
shall probably remain here to-day. It would delight an astronomer
to gaze at the stars in these southern regions, which are never
seen in Europe—as for example, the Crozier of the south, Canopus,
which, according to our two learned astronomers, was even invisible
in Alexandria, and had been first seen by them in Korusko.
Two of my servants have just returned from the Shilluks. I remarked
yesterday and to-day that when the women belonging to the villages
lying not far from the shore, and close to one another, came to
water the herds, with their well made and nearly round pitchers on
their heads, the men accompanied them, spear in hand, in consequence
of the wicked enemy being in the vicinity. The women did not wear
cotton stuff round their hips, but front and back aprons; and some
had a third, a leathern one, without hair, thrown over the shoulders,
or on the back. Man appropriates to himself the cotton stuff, when
luxury goes so far, which is, however, very rare; yet he must be a
chief of a village or a Sheikh, to be able to wear it, as is the case
with the tribes up the river. My men were not able to purchase a spear
or a shield from them. One of the Shilluks, who spoke Arabic well,
declared that they wanted the spears themselves, and never sold them
to Turks; that they were obliged to protect the cattle by weapons,
and that by means of these beasts they purchased their corn, which
does not grow in their country (perhaps in this year owing to the
inundation), from which circumstance they were obliged to eat locusts
(geràt). My men were sent away after this short conversation,
during which they were courteously invited to sit down, as I saw
at the distance. We proceed an hour before sun-rise from our place,
but can only make a short course, in consequence of the wind being
contrary, and soon halt again at the shore of the Shilluks; to-morrow
we ought to be near Mount Defafaùngh. Thermometer sun-rise, 18°;
noon to three o’clock, 30° to 31°; sunset, 29°.
_6th April._—Still a contrary wind; the direction N.E., with
easterly deviations. We saw a scanty forest on the right, but not
any habitation,—mostly alluvial soil, which previously stood under
water, even between the trees. When we set foot on such a ground as
this, we cannot imagine from whence the reeds, partly burnt away,
have sprung. The straw in wads covers the ground here and there,
and solitary reed-stalks, the leaves of which seem blasted by the
sun and wind; yet there are still tracts with reeds on wet soil:
also some groups of reed or long straw huts, like beehives, stand on
the left shore. In the afternoon we observe several birds, and the
longing after meat drives the vessels of our General and Admiral
to the right shore, where copsewood and isolated trees display
themselves. Some of our party went off to shoot guinea fowls.
_7th April._—Set off at an early hour, with a contrary, though
not a strong, north-east wind, and continued in a north-easterly
direction till some hours after sunrise. I hear the joyful cry of
“Baghàras!” and perceive immediately from the window a dozen
of these mounted herdsmen, who spring forward to the margin of
the shore on the left side of the river, greet, and make signs to
us. To see horses for the first time after several months gave me
a delightful sensation.
It is, perhaps, certain, that cultivation has not ascended the
river from hence, for otherwise the useful horse and the camel,
which subsequently became indigenous on the Nile, would not
have been forgotten, being two of the most necessary animals on
earth. Flags and streamers, with the insignia of the Prophet,
were hoisted to welcome the bold horsemen as Mahommedan brothers,
and to soften their hearts. Then begins a barter for butter, milk,
and sheep, but these Anti-Christs are hard to deal with, for they
make us pay dearly for everything; yet they also take glass beads
as well as gold. It is delightful to view these well-known heads,
with their hair twisted back in a tuft. The men in blue shirts
carry three or four lances, holding the longer and stronger one
in their hand. The pretty girls wear a ferda round their hips, and
the swelling bosom is uncovered. A ring decorates their nostrils,
as in other regions, but, on the other hand, they wear long hair,
falling in tresses on their shoulders—an ornament which we have
never beheld in the upper countries. These horsemen, employed as
an _avant garde_ against the Shilluks, whom they do not fear in the
least, are, according to Mariàn, a bold stem of the Baghàras from
Kordofal (the last syllable fluctuates between fal and fan) who call
themselves Abanies. Their Sheikh, who is said to be known to me,
is called “Wood el Mamùd.” I cannot, however, recall his name
to my recollection, although he has been with us in Khartùm.
The first island-park appeared this morning on the left, its
convolvuli in full verdant splendour, and considerably elevated above
the water; another one followed, but the variegated flowers were
absent, and the lower part of the foliage of the hanging creepers
was dry, having been covered longer by the water.
We halted at the left shore to wait for the oxen and sheep which the
Baghàras had promised to bring, but these brothers in Mohammed, were
too well acquainted with our Abu Daoud, Suliman Kashef, who would
have dispensed with any payment, and therefore they did not shew
themselves. “Naas batalin” (bad people) they were called,—and
we navigate in the afternoon further to N.E., and wind to E., where
the isolated Mountain Defafaùngh, hanging over the river, sets me on
tenterhooks of expectation. Here I shall see pyramids and enormous
walls, for the whole rock is said to be formed of burnt bricks
(Top achmer). This might have been, therefore, the halting point
for the archæology of the Ethiopian world. I must set out on my
travels early in the morning and sketch the outlines of its ruins,
even if I catch a fever that may continue several days.
_8th April._—I was on my feet before daybreak, and woke, as usual,
my men from their heavy sleep; I drank a strengthening draught of
yemen, and set off with Thibaut, Sabatier, and three servants,
one of whom carried a goat’s skin, containing water, to the
mysterious mountain which, as the final end of Egyptian or Ethiopian
civilization, the first or last power of human art, may afford so
much _éclaircissement_ to science. Cheerful and brisk—for the
sun had not yet risen—I walked with the ostrich and crane, as
I called Thibaut and Sabatier, on account of their quick strides,
through the Ambak wood, and the long grass of the Savannah-prairie,
which was partly burning under our feet. But soon the depressed land
of an old river, with standing water therein, lay between us and
the foot of Mount Defafaùngh. We perceived by some trees here, on a
level with the shore of the Nile, that the water had risen four feet
high—what a lake, then!—and, therefore, the Ambak was lying dry,
and its root bent and feeble. Arnaud was advancing far behind us,
with the military escort given to us for our protection, which we
thought we could do without. When we saw armed natives at a little
distance from where we stood, my two Frenchmen made a show of courage,
but seemed to me to hide their fear under the cloak of joking. It
would have been disgraceful to stop and wait for Arnaud, and so one
after the other rode upon the shoulders of our strongest servants,
to whom a comrade gave his hand, so that he might not stick in the
clay soil and morass, and we crossed in this manner a narrow gohr,
leaving the little lake and the standing pools at our left.
On we went through the dried low ground until we arrived, after
walking a mile or so, at the foot of the mountain where the ground is
again elevated, and contains some trees (also dome-palms). I let the
others ascend as if they were running for a wager, and looked right
and left for antiquities, picking up stones with which the steep path
I had struck into was bestudded, whilst the long grass and low bushes,
but still more the projecting rocks, made the ascent difficult and
laborious. Some ledges of rocks encircle the gable-end like a crown;
no human being could have chiselled here, nor has nature so disposed
them in her natural course; I knew the cause from what I had already
seen, and from the specimen I had put into my fowling-bag; I was
standing upon volcanic ground, and therefore I might expect to see a
crater on the top. Reddish ashes and pieces of lava of similar colour
filled the space between the rocks, the porosity of which, as well
as the particles of shining black little stones, similar to coals
and porphyry, convinced me that they have also undergone a powerful
volcanic fire, which has dried up all the pores; or the entire
mountain might have risen from a subterraneous forge, and poured
over itself a thick coating of lava like liquor from a foaming goblet.
If we go upon the supposition, that it is an independent volcano,
and not merely an elevated volcanic mass, we may easily recognize
in the top an extinct crater, levelled by the fallen walls of rock,
such as we see even now on the eastern side, by lava and volcanic
mud, wherein ants at present wallow, and by the crumbling fragments
of projecting rocks. The summit of this burnt-out volcano forms an
oval terrace from N.W. to S.E.; the north-eastern part, however,
is shelving, but the reservoir of lava could not be transplanted
here, for some of the breaks of the mountain in that part, are
precipitously disrupt, and there are no signs of a lava stream
below. The porous rocks on the summit, exhibit a kind of decay,
entirely earthy and friable, so that we might believe that they
were once covered with boiling mud. The curved rocks, jutting out
to the south, are smooth, considerably lower than our summit, and
separated from it by a horizontal rocky wall, cleft here and there,
which surrounds the crater at the top, and is not higher on the
side we are than five to ten feet. The flat part of the upper ring
falls away slightly to the west, and no lava stream was to be seen
here. If the great lake so often spoken of by me existed at one time,
its waters never perhaps dashed over the summit of this Stromboli,
which is about four hundred feet high, much as it might increase by
the opened sluices of the high land, and thus be in a condition to
reach the volcanic mountain itself. An immeasurable circular plain
lay now at our feet, in which the Nile extended from W. to N.; at
its side, turned towards us, were several standing mountain streams,
which join the Nile again at the rainy season, and testify to the
changeableness of the course of the river, whose waters formed at
one time a large lake at the foot of this mountain, and still do
so at high water. No city, therefore, could have stood here, and
still less on the little summit of the mountain, where also not a
single fragment speaks in favour of the previous existence of Tokuls,
although the mountain would have afforded the most splendid building
materials to a nation, that had even only attained a moderate degree
of cultivation. I knew already that we should find no ruins here,
for the so-called ruins were said to consist of _top_, or bricks;
and the fragments of stone have a great similarity to bricks,
but only at the first superficial glance. The Turks, however, had
taken these stones for bricks, and their fiery imagination pictured
immediately pyramids, fortresses, and tombs; which assumption
appeared more credible to me, because by embracing it and believing
in such an existence, I hoped to be able to trace out, whether the
cultivation of the Ethiopians travelled up or down the river. After
a few glances, however, at the upper valley of the White Nile, I was
soon persuaded, that Defafaùngh only remained as a _ne plus ultra_,
an ever-interesting boundary-mark of the cultivated western Ethiopia.
The prospect from the top presented to us some Dinka villages towards
S., and a distant chain of mountains to S.E., and another to E. These
seem also to lie isolated in the immeasurable plain, from the waters
of which they might have stood forth, at one time, like islands. We
saw the dung of hyænas and antelopes; and thousands of guinea-fowls
enticed us to descend by a steep path on the south-eastern side,
where the earlier volcanic phenomena were seen. I scrambled down,
whilst the others were shooting, whom my huntsmen had followed by
spontaneous impulse; twice I aimed and fired, but my gun flashed
in the pan, and I had no more caps. I was therefore obliged to
let the birds, driven up from below by Suliman Kashef’s Turks,
fly round my head, or rise under my feet to the number of fifty to
one hundred head, without even being able to kill them by throwing
stones, or treading them to death. I thought _habeat sibi_, and
wandered over the numberless wild paths, intersecting one another,
between thorns and long straw, to the nearest reach of the mountain,
which is only slightly elevated towards it in N.E., but of equal
height to its base. Up rose a flock of guinea-fowls here, another
covey alighted there; they jumped up and run on all sides to hide
themselves, or flew to the slopes of the mountain, where they were
received by the soldiers standing above, with a discharge from their
terrible weapons, which perhaps they had never heard before. Some of
the birds smelling powder, who were in the neighbouring copsewood,
called the others in vain to leave the circuit of their hitherto Zion.
In the meantime I had found a solitary fragment of a Burma, red
outside and black inside, made in the same manner as those of the
Shilluks, and I roved about the mountain from S.E. to N., where
several blocks of rock were lying below which had fallen from the
mountain, and seemed to be porous basalt, or tophus (the latter most
likely, from the regularity and fineness of the pores). These blocks
lay scattered far and wide to the east, having sharp corners like
those of a red-brown colour, which stand forth as pilasters from the
west side of the mountain itself. They appear, however, to have been
thrown by violence, rather than rolled to this distance. These blocks,
which formerly covered the mountain here as thick crusts of lava,
and under which still other crusts may lie, are broken off nearly
in a horizontal line towards the river, and might, therefore,
together with their clefts, easily suggest the idea of ancient
circular walls or fortifications, to the Arabs and Turks. Perhaps
it is from this cause that the Defafaùngh is called also Berba;
for Birbe means a ruin in Arabic. We found there a cave—perhaps
there are several—formed of stones piled up one over the other,
equal in size to the one at the top on the south-eastern side of
the terrace, and inhabited by wild beasts, as we concluded from
the hyænas’ dung; on the north-eastern side we remarked several
holes and fissures in the rocks, occupied at day by owls, and at
night by the guinea-fowls. We saw the former and heard of the latter
from some Dinkas, after we had assembled under the shade of large
tamarind-trees, on which already there was ripe fruit.
The Dinkas came, laid down their spears at some distance, greeted us
with their “hababa,” and sat by our side in a friendly manner. No
sooner did they see the dead guinea-fowls than they told us, that they
kill them either with stones, or by catching them in the evening in
the holes and cavities of the rocks. They were presented with some
tobacco at their request, contrary to the usual custom of the Turks,
who do not shew such favour to these “Abit.” They thought the
“bumb” (report) of guns was “affiàt” (good and fine), but
they were afraid of it, like all Negroes, and so much so that it
appears laughable to us; but what ideas may they connect with the
simple report, and what species of spirit or devil may they suppose
to be raised in the gun!
There cannot be much worship of trees here, for the neighbouring
villages have not any shady trees; although these splendid tamarinds,
with a trunk of five to six feet thick, and dense foliage, to the foot
of which moreover the water reaches, as we see by the foot-prints of
the Hippopotami, which serve me as an arm-chair, certainly deserve
care and gratitude. But there was very little cleanliness at the
place where we were sitting (to be silent of the ground being trod
smooth by men), and the boughs of the trees did not shew any marks
of consecration; there might have been, perhaps, about one thousand
head of black birds sitting on them. We proceeded afterwards along
the dry margin of the lake to the two layers of rocks projecting from
the ground, wherein we recognise basalt, also porous, but displaying
great hardness on breaking off the upper crust. I dare not decide
whether this lake be not an extinct crater choked up by the Nile,
similar to the Laacher See on the Rhine.
Girard, who has examined my specimens, says indeed truly,—“The
mountain is clearly an extinct volcano. It rises probably from a
basaltic plateau, for basalt, olivine, and pyroxene appear on it,
and red-brown porous lava, with large circular hornblende crystals,
as well as dark blue tophus, formed from clear porous scraps of lava
and fine ashes, seem to cover its declivity. The tophus, as well as
the lava, does not contain any vitreous feldspar, yet pumice stone
shews itself under them, but all the products of the volcano prove
that it is only converted basalt.”
Everything was therefore collected here to form a frontier-fortress;
but perhaps it is reserved for another age to see a new Nigritia
flourishing under the auspices of an enterprising man, who has
money, and will undertake men-hunts. Certainly, by that means,
the whole country would be deprived of the free and independent
negroes; who, notwithstanding their poverty, will not enlist for
gold and silver. They even prefer to remain in the old state, for
they love old customs, even if they have seen or been obliged to have
better ones. One example will suffice for many. Several Dinka slaves
deserted from Fàzogl, who had been made craftsmen, taking with them
all the implements of their trade. They appear, however, to have done
the latter, not on account of the greater usefulness of such tools,
but merely for the sake of the iron, to make spears or bracelets of
it: this, at least, our soldiers and Dinkas affirmed. Some of the
deserters were also shipwrights, but yet we have never seen a boat,
although it would be so useful to them in their marauding expeditions.
The Dinkas accompanied us now to our ships, bringing milk and butter
with them; but we found that they mix cow’s urine with the former,
which was quite sufficient to disgust us, but not so our servants. The
discovery of the desertion of two Dinkas from my vessel delayed the
continuation of our journey; their village, parents, and relations
were near this mountain. We had a long parley with their countrymen,
who continued faithful for some time, and would not deliver up the
two soldiers. At last, when all the threats were of no avail, and we
had ordered our soldiers to get their arms ready, some one managed
to entice with a good grace three sheikhs on board Selim Capitan’s
vessel, whom we had shortly before clothed. We bore off from land,
and the poor Dinkas, who were too few to make war against us, saw
themselves compelled to give up their brothers, who were immediately
then laid in irons; because, according to Turkish custom, these
kidnapped men, although they have not taken the oath of allegiance,
are subject to French military discipline. But it was contrary to
Turkish usage to restore the shiekhs without further extortion, and
they would certainly have been carried to Khartùm, if no Franks
had been present,—who speak, however, frequently in vain. Even
the voluntary slaves were put in chains until they were far distant
from their native country. I begged for mercy for the poor prisoners,
but in vain: we then made a short course and halted, for good reasons
not at the shore of the Dinkas. Thermometer up to 32°.
CHAPTER XII.
LANDING IN THE TERRITORY OF THE BAGHÀRAS. — DESCRIPTION OF
THEM. — THEIR HOSTILITY TO THE DINKAS, AND MARAUDING EXCURSIONS
INTO THE COUNTRY OF THIS TRIBE. — CURIOUS POSITION IN WHICH THE
LATTER TRIBE STAND. — MOUNT NJEMATI: EXAMINATION OF IT. — A
SHRUB-ACACIA. — APPEARANCE OF ELEPHANTS AND LIONS. — GEOLOGICAL
DESCRIPTION OF THE MOUNTAINS. — MONKEYS APPEAR AGAIN. — MOHAMMED
ALI UNDER THE FORM OF AN HIPPOPOTAMUS. — ISLAND OF ABU. — THE
HASSANIES. — A HIPPOPOTAMUS KILLED BY SULIMAN KASHEF. — SHORES
OF THE NILE COMPARED TO THOSE OF THE MISSISSIPPI. — EL AES. — THE
KABBABISH ARABS. — HEDJASI. — THE MOUNTAIN GROUP OF ARASKOLL. —
CONDUCT OF SULIMAN KASCHEF TO A SHIEKH AND ARABS. — BEST WAY TO
TREAT THE TURKS. — THE DOWNS; THEIR NATURE. — INTELLIGENCE OF THE
DEATH OF SOLIMAN EFFENDI AND VAISSIERE. — APPROACH TO KHARTÙM. —
ARRIVAL, AND MEETING OF OUR AUTHOR WITH HIS BROTHER. — CONCLUSION.
9th April.—Our direction yesterday was generally N; to-day N. with
deviations to the East. We landed early at the left shore, near
the Baghàras, who received us on all sides in a friendly manner,
and displayed here real hospitality,—with a little craft and
self-interest. The mighty bond of language, race and religion,
knit immediately reciprocal confidence, which begot eloquence,
and lively questions and answers. The herdsmen, part of whom
had handsome physiognomies, surveyed our vessels. Whilst their
horses remained close by, they brought goats and sheep to us,
holding them by a rope, a kurbàk in one hand, and a long lance
and three javelins in the other; and seemed, on the whole, to be a
more cultivated and cleanly people, in spite of their dirty ferdas
and kittels, which, being originally of a white or blue colour,
were not strongly contrasted one with the other. Their countenance
was expressive, with their thick eyebrows and sparkling eyes; the
hair being twisted more or less to the back of the head in a cue,
allowed the beautifully arched forehead to stand out, but it is
often difficult to tell the sex of the young persons.
The women and girls coming to us with milk, butter, and fresh
tamarinds, were free in their movements, joked and laughed, and
sought to sell their wares as dear as they possibly could, which they
exchanged for salt, beads, red pepper, and strings of ostrich-egg
shells. All of them were distinguished by a slender shape, a bold
carriage, and pleasing form of countenance; some, according to my
idea, might be called really beautiful, and they were generally
excellently proportioned; they appeared to me like independent,
dark Spartan women. A ferda was slung over the invisible rahàt being
used at other times to cover their heads as a protection against the
sun; the hair was parted, and arranged in tasteful, little plaits in
different directions, or falling down over the shoulders. Red, and
other coloured pieces of coral, were placed on each side of the head
in an oval form; in which copper, silver, or gold rings were entwined,
and even the ear-rings with their pretty elongation of corals and
small conchglia were fastened to the temples by the shining black
tresses of hair falling over the forehead. This head-dress could
not fail of making an agreeable impression upon me, when I thought
of the shaven and dishevelled heads of the women in the countries
up the river; the unseemly custom of wearing rings in the nostrils
was scarcely unpleasing here, from this _supposed_ ornament being
so small. They wore brilliant cut agates or flints of the desert
round their neck and across the shoulder and breast,—the younger
girls also over the rahàt and on the wrists, which they buy from
the Dinkas, as well as corals of different kinds.
On all sides people were advancing slowly towards us, and a
regular market was soon formed; but it was only with a great deal
of difficulty that I procured a bad javelin. The Arabs said that
it would be disgraceful for them to sell their weapons as they
were continually at war. These Baghàras are also from Kordofàn,
of the race of Selim, and of unmixed blood, for they never marry
into any other tribe: whence the difference between them and our
radically ugly crew. From time to time they pay tribute, but properly
speaking, it is a _don gratuit_. They told us that they would now
cross over to the Jengähs (they call the Dinkas Jengähs, although
the latter are a different people, and dwell above the Shilluks),
since we (their Mohammedan brothers) had visited these regions,
but asked accidentally whether so many Shilluks dwelt above, as was
reported. They also said that there were a few of the latter nation
here, who had retreated at their arrival on the island, and that there
was nothing to fear since the death of the Sheikh of the Shilluks,
Abdurachmàn. They thought themselves already in possession of the
whole country. The Baghàras left us after sunset, but afterwards
partly returned to bring more milk and sheep (for a sheep, one ferda,
for a goat about an okka of salt). Thermometer 18°, 29°, 32°.
_10th April._—We sail a little with a south-east wind in a north
direction with easterly declinations till noon, then it becomes
calm and we navigate. Subsequently, with a north-east wind, almost
universally to N. and even westerly declinations, until we halt at
an island by the shore of the Shilluks. Thermometer 22°, 32°, 30°.
_11th April._—It is a faint south-west wind, but we are able
to sail; the direction is first N. with easterly deviations, then
westerly, and even N.W. by N. until we to go N., where an immeasurable
course extends before us. Easterly deviations follow in the afternoon,
and the mountain with two peaks seen from the mast before noon, shews
itself in N. The river gains a majestic breadth for the short track
it is free of islands; the anterior part of the shores is low and
bordered with grass. Nile buffaloes which are in incredible numbers
here, owing to the grass on the islands, greeted us twice to-day,
and with such blows that Rassulla Effendi became quite pale. The
tailor-captain is not with us; he has fallen out with Rassulla about
a sheep, and was the more desirous for a quarrel, because Suliman
Kashef presented to him a loaf of sugar, and he therefore does not
want the help of Rassulla to eat Helluh. However, we are lucky,
for the hippopotami have vented their just anger on the strongest
point of our vessel.
“Look! there is a dead hippopotamus in the water, and men near
it,” was the cry subsequently, but we soon found the difference
when we came closer. It was a boat or raft of ambak just pushed into
the water and on it some men, whilst others were advancing from the
copsewood. Ten Baghàras with lance and shield following out their
old system of plunder, had wanted to play the freebooter here among
the Dinkas, but were obliged to retreat without having accomplished
their object. They found themselves now in the greatest dilemma, for
the water was shallow and they were pursued by the Dinkas, of whom
we counted from twenty-five to thirty. Suliman Kashef, who sailed
a-head of us, ordered a couple of shots to be fired over the heads of
the Dinkas, whereupon they retreated a little. The vessel, however,
could not take up the Baghàras, on account of the shallow water;
they shouted to us to fire once more, but in vain, for the tailor
sat at his handywork and would give no orders till Sale discharged
one double barrel in the air, which made the Dinkas stand still and
gave the Arabs time to row off. In a regular pursuit, the former
would undoubtedly have got the worst of it, for they are no swimmers,
were without shields, and like the Shilluks, do not cast their spears
from their hands, whilst the Baghàras carried shields and javelins.
The Dinkas, however, will not be long in paying a return visit with
similar intentions to the Baghàras, and will then bear oval and round
shields similar to those of the Shilluks, which they are accustomed
to use in war; the shields of the Baghàras, on the contrary, are
round at the bottom and obtuse at the top.
I saw Dinkas frequently on the shore, and nearly all of them were in
the same peculiar position which we also remarked above, and on the
banks of the entire White River; and which perhaps would denote a kind
of affinity, if the language, form of countenance, and customs did
not prove otherwise. To rest themselves, they place one foot on the
knee whilst standing, and put underneath as a support their hassaie
(club of white wood pointed at the bottom) or their spear. A dozen of
such one-legged persons standing together is a comical sight enough.
We halted to-day at five o’clock near the left shore to wait for
the vessels at an island on which there were monstrous foot-prints
of hippopotami. Close above our landing-place lay the tolerably long
and wooded island of the deceased Sheikh of the Shilluk islands,
Abdurachmàn (Ab del Rahman), Wolled el Desh. It is called by the
Arabs Telleb, by the Shilluks, however, Afunje; a name that might
bring to our recollection the Funghs,—and here it was where,
as I have already mentioned, the Turks in the Expedition of the
year 1839, were not ashamed to open the grave of the Sheikh in
order to convince themselves that the sworn enemy of themselves
and the Baghàras was really dead. It can easily be inferred what
a prejudicial impression such an act must have left behind in the
minds of the Island-Shilluks. Thermometer 23°, 32°, 30°.
_12th April._—We sail N. with easterly deviations; then at noon
towards N., close to a mountain group called by the Dinkas and
Baghàras Njemati, and it is only with considerable difficulty that we
can find a landing-place on the flat shore below the rocks extending
in the river, and when we do so we encamp at some distance from it.
Thus many islands have retreated at our side which rejoiced the heart
previously with their soft verdure, their flowers, creepers, and
trees, or their blades of grass shooting from the majestic stream,
whilst the water retreated into the forests of both the shores,
and afforded many an interesting picture. Now it is no longer so,
the vessel goes far lower: where the wood does not grow on the shore,
there is only a melancholy low country, and the cheerful ambak-acacias
lie dry on the ground bent and dismembered, throwing out in vain their
long shoots with small leaves and solitary little flowers, on the soil
where some moisture still remains. The hand of destruction has even
fallen on the grass and reeds; sun, animals, and fire have consumed
it, leaving merely miserable remains. It is only at times when the
sun is rising, that the landscape presents a more enlivening aspect.
_13th April._—We shall stop here in the neighbourhood of the
mountain till noon. Notwithstanding the heat, I had not any rest till
I made yesterday a trip to the mountain, which I always thought must
be the real Defafaùngh. I had already seen by the rounded rocks
in the river what kind of stone I might expect to find. A layer of
gravel extends to the north from these rocks, and I soon came upon
large stones of coarse-grained granite, inclined to a reddish colour,
among numerous little marble stones, which I had not hitherto seen. A
species of shrub-acacia covered the whole side of the path I had taken
under the mountain where the gravel ceased, of which some bushes
served me as a shady resting-place. Its leaves had already fallen,
its bark was green, and it had short arcuate thorns. The immense
number of seed-husks is a proof of the quantity of flowers it bore;
they hung altogether in clusters, and I filled my pockets full with
them. I saw a quantity of guinea-fowls on a rock running obliquely
to the base:—the rocks of the lower mountains are not perhaps more
than a quarter of an hour from the water. They became very active
when they remarked us, and I ordered, therefore, my dark, half-naked,
huntsman to go first, for these are more accustomed to such a sight.
I had roused a herd of gazelles standing at my left, but permitted
them to withdraw in peace; for I had just found two little hills
consisting of stones of inconsiderable size, evidently thrown together
here. Judging from the analogy of the stone hills I had seen in
Kassela, and being fully persuaded that no violent rains from the
mountains above, or flood from the Nile, could have so placed them,
I took them to be ancient tombs, and searched for potsherds and other
memorials of buildings that might have stood here, but in vain. Negro
villages and cities disappear the moment they are not inhabited,
like ignited bundles of straw, and the ashes do not remain on the
ground. Yet it is not likely that there were many inhabited places
here, for the unprotected man of nature does not make his residence
near the rocky encampments and cavities of wild beasts, and no
fragments here indicated the contrary. The native of a civilised
country must forget all analogies of his own land, if he wish to
comprehend the meaning, custom, and possible conduct of a rude nation.
I ascended with ease the nearest fundament of the granite rock. The
rain and distilling sun had produced several round holes, which
appeared to have been chiselled by the hand of man, and which may
frequently blow up these firm masses of stone, as if a mine were
sprung underneath, when they happen to fall on a vein. I found these
holes principally in those places where the rocks presented a flat,
horizontal superfices, as I had remarked also previously in the
granite mountains of the Land of the Troglodytes.
My huntsman—whom, however, I could not see—shot close to me, and
a covey of guinea-fowls rose from behind the next block of stone,
and induced me to mount in pursuit of them. I took off my shoes,
and it was like walking on a red-hot oven, notwithstanding I kept
on my stockings. As we ascend to the summit of this mountain-group,
a dreadful destruction and piling of rocks one over the other is
observed, similar to the scene on the rocks near Phile. Granite rocks,
originally lying above the level of the waters, are rounded on the
top into the form of pikes, cupolas, and horns. Periodical rains and a
hot sun may split, rend, and break them, though only as an exception
to the general rule, as I believe from the analogy of the Alps, the
mountains on the Nile, and in the desert and country of Taka; they
throw off, therefore, perhaps, their decayed covering, and burst forth
new like an egg from the shell; and, although the layers on the side
of the wind, rain, and sun, admit of no regularity of form, yet they
seldom display any ghastly splits or gaps. I would assume, therefore,
that these rocks also stood at one time as crags above or beneath the
water, in which opinion I am supported by the rounded gravel visible
here and there on the layers of rocks. I cannot certainly determine
in what manner the granite rocks, projecting here into the Nile, and
extending into the river bed as far as the mountains of Kordofàn,
and connected with the distant mountain visible on the other side,
in N. and S.E. from the mountains here, may prevent at some future
times the waters of the lake from being drawn off.
I was now on the summit, where I found a human skull, and felt myself
very tired, whilst evening was coming on. In order to descend by
another path, I slid down, disregardless of hurting my _posteriora_,
laying my gun on my knees, and tying two guinea-fowls I had shot
round my neck; and it was fortunate for me I did so, or else the back
of my head would have been stove in. I met one of Suliman Kashef’s
soldiers on the lower declivity, who pointed out to me wild buffaloes
and elephants at a distance, close to whom he had been. We had seen
already a very large quantity of elephants’ dung. I had lost my
huntsman in the rocks: he brought fowls also, but trembled dreadfully,
because, just as he was aiming at the herds, a lion had presented
himself at a short distance. The presence of lions was subsequently
doubted; but this morning my two other servants took quite a young
lion in their hands, to bring him to me; but they thought it more
advisable afterwards to let him bask on in the sun. They, as well
as several others, remarked also wild buffaloes and boars (Jalùff)
in the neighbourhood; and they brought me, as a proof of the former
animals being present here, a horn quite fresh, the owner of which,
had become the prey of lions; for the marafill (the spotted hyæna),
whose calcareous dung is visible in all parts of this region, never
attacks buffaloes.
I repaired now to the foot of the next mountain-group, and was
soon convinced that it was of the same species of stone; however,
to be quite sure, I had pieces or specimens of stone brought me from
the highest peak, and my servants have confirmed me in my opinion,
that there are only two mountains, although Arnaud asserts that he
has seen sixteen, without putting on magnifying glasses. Some of
these specimens consist of pink feldspar, white albin, grey quartz,
and black mica; others of dark red feldspar, but without albin,
with white quartz and black mica.
I stumbled upon Suliman Kashef on my way back, who had collected his
halberdiers around him, and was enthroned on a rock where he could be
seen at a distance. He set out this afternoon to make observations,
which he might have done yesterday evening. The heat is very great,
and I bathe for the first time since a long while, having left
it off from fear of catching fever. The Frenchmen think that they
shew great courage by going into the water; but it is always full
of men the whole day long, and no accident has happened from the
crocodiles. My men had not shot any of the gazelles that appeared
near the rocks, to take a hasty draught; the Baghàras, however,
paid us a visit, and brought sheep; they thought that we were come
to make war in their favour, yet no Dinkas dwell near here, but more
up the river. Thermometer 27·30°; 32·31°.
_14th April._—This morning we proceed at last with a favourable
south-east wind to north, with easterly deviations; but we soon came
to a flat in the Nile, formed by a granite shelf partly visible,
which crosses the river. It is called Gisser—the same as wall or
dam, analogous to Tschellal—and was once perhaps really a dam and
breast-work, of which only the foundations remain. Who can estimate
its future form, and its present ramifications! We scrape along it
a little, but then all went right, and we passed in the afternoon,
N. by W., the very dangerous Machada—el ans, and Machada Abu Seid
mentioned in the ascent, where there was an eternal grating of the
vessels, as if over a gravelly bank: first we, then the others stuck
fast, and the sailors had very troublesome work. We halted at the
left shore, where an incredible number of monkeys were sitting on the
trees. I took my gun, and in searching through the forest, remarked
a she-monkey, among numerous others, the young one sitting on the
lower branches. As soon as she perceived us, she sprang quickly to
her young, took it under her arm, and set herself on the highest
bough of the tree. Who could shoot at the mother for the sake of
getting the young? There was another monkey-like animal there which
can only be taken at night; I forget the name of it.
An arm of the Nile, the ends of which are now closed, appeared to
be a favourite pond of the gazelles, though not one of them fell to
our lot.
The inundation rises through the entire forest, the earth is
cracked far and wide, and not a spike of grass is to be seen under
the sunt, of which the forest of the Shilluks consists, with few
exceptions. But there lay a number of broken off branches and dead
trees, that had not attained their proper age, because, when there
is too much water, the trees stand too thickly, and their tops get
lashed together, and these sunts, especially, spreading from top
to bottom with short boughs, leave no draught, so that the centre
of them is deprived of the necessary air. We remark, however, where
the forest is sufficiently thin, a number of trees thrown down and
withered, especially where the shores lie lower, and where, therefore,
the ground can be scarcely dry at any time of the year. This may
proceed perhaps from wind, for though the latter is not so violent
as to tear up trees from the root, like our northern storms, yet the
tender nourishing fibres are injured or torn off by the continual
motion of the trees, which must be followed by a stretching and
straining of the roots. The tree stands, pines away, and falls,
as we have remarked previously in the country of Taka.
Suliman Kashef related, with an important air, that he shot quite
close to a large hippopotamus several times yesterday evening,
without the beast moving, until, at last, it slowly walked into the
river. This Nile buffalo was said to be a Scheïtan, and Selim Capitan
believed the very same thing. I threw in a hint that Mohammed Ali
might have assumed this form, in order to see what good the expedition
was doing—whereupon there was _altum silentium_! Thermometer,
22° 32° to 33°.
_15th April._—Between N. and N.W. The nearest shores are low, and
even where the forest extends to them, they are but slightly elevated,
and the overthrown trees present a melancholy appearance here instead
of the cheerful underwood. The old shores of the river are visible
right and left through the downs of the forest, and are really high
shores, without any deception, for the vessel goes considerably lower
during our present return voyage, and no illusion takes place, as
is the case with the slight elevation in the extensive plain, which
always appears to the eye to be ascending. We navigate on the broad
stream as if in the forest, woody islands on the right, the same on
the left, but sunt, always sunt, with its melancholy foliage,—my
heart longs for beeches and oaks and their shady halls! It is only
on the shore where winds and water take effect above and below,
that we see trees completely uprooted. The high water has no power
towards the interior of the shore, but another evil spirit, the Habùb
(storm), throws down and scatters boughs and trees.
The north-west wind is against us; we go therefore over N. easterly
to N.E. These windings depend principally on how we sail round the
islands. The main direction of the stream is, and remains from
the present, N., with slight deviations to E. and W. The shores
encompassing the long island-sound, are generally invisible; an
accurate map, therefore, could be only drawn up by a longer stay here.
In the afternoon we halt for a moment at the right shore, and near
the large island of Aba, and hear from the Hassaniës and people of
El Aes that a large hippopotamus had been struck by three harpoons
close at hand. We navigate, therefore, to the left, at the island
of El Gamùss, which has its name partly from the number of Nile
buffaloes taking up their abode in their neighbourhood; and we see,
at its head, the mighty snorting beast half out of water; but he
soon, however, drew back, and swam into the Nile arm, between the
island and the left shore. The sàndal was towed near him, and after
the sürtuk had twice upset, yet without confounding the experienced
swimmers, and the beast had tried in vain to escape, it occurred to
our men, as the hippopotamus was obliged from want of breath to come
up constantly to the surface, to fasten the towing-rope to the three
harpoon, and thus to drag him ashore like a vessel. Before, however,
they got so far, the beast collected his last strength, and shortly
before arriving at the shore, sprung up with such force that several
of the heroes jumped back. I thought that I should see a national
hunt, and the hippopotamus killed with the spear; but the Turks did
not wait for him to gain _terra firma_, but shot at him where he was,
half out of water, and certainly, had he landed, he might have trod
several men under his feet, and torn them with his respectable tusks.
Nine shots were fired one after the other, Suliman Kashef’s
was the last, and it hit the animal behind the ear: the blood
spouted up, and the monster fell, slain by man’s art, not by
his courage. We had him dragged by the tow-rope of the sàndal to
our landing-place, and I then found that the balls had pierced his
neck and back, which might well happen, when we consider that the
distance was only fifteen paces and that the beast had a fat hide,
with no other shield than the yielding rumples, extending crossways
over the back. The inside of the holes perforated by the bullets,
felt like the body of a fat hog. The monster might be even compared
in his clumsy form to a small elephant, and both correspond just as
little as the crocodile, to our usual ideas of beauty in animals,
which are generally reduced to the standard of the noble horse. The
skin of the hippopotamus displays a dirty pink hue, from the back
to the belly, and the dark green of the upper part of the body runs
into this other colour. The skin, in drying, changes to a dark grey.
The soil of the island, excellent in other respects, is torn up by
the inundation, ascending several feet over it; but many trees are
lying withered and parched up on the ground. I took a specimen of
the seeds of a dwarf acacia, with barbs: I observed also guinea-fowls
and monkeys: the last are said to swim.
Sabatier, who compares the shores of the Nile here to those of the
Mississippi, only that on the latter the trees are higher, is going
to accompany me, in Thibaut’s bark to the Aes, whilst M. Arnaud
decides upon preparing to-morrow the skin of the hippopotamus,
which he has bought for two hundred and fifty piasters.
_16th April._—Thibaut has started without us—asleep, as he
afterwards said. We remain under Arnaud’s jurisdiction till the
afternoon, then go libàhn against the north wind, and halt late in
the evening, at the right shore. Thermometer 24°, 34°, to 35°.
_17th April._—The wind is against us in our course; forest, islands,
downs, mostly with a gentle ascent and shallows, alternate with my
impatience, until at last we reach El Aes in the afternoon.
El Aes, lying on a sandy down, which ascends and descends with
intermission, is said to be a new place, and is called after a former
sheikh of this name. The present sheikh is denominated Achmet, and
the people appear to be a mixed breed. They do not wish to have much
acquaintance with the Turks, although they are subject to taxation,
which a soldier collects there as Kaimakan. Thermometer, noon, 33°.
_18th April._—Long before daybreak we proceeded on our voyage,
without any oxen having been brought to us. At first we passed
by several islands, and then left the island of Gùbescha at our
right; several Sagiën fallen to ruin, and some chains of buckets
being visible on the left shore. The village of Hedjasi lies in the
neighbourhood, but not a person was to be seen, although we remained
there the afternoon; even onions were not to be got. Suliman Kashef
thinks that he is not much beloved here, which I can very readily
believe. Thousands of camels were being led to water on the left
shore, by the Kabbabish Arabs who come from the interior, and are
said to possess more of these animals than all the other Arabs put
together. This occurs every eight or ten days, and the tribe take back
with them what water they need. Suliman Kashef wanted to make friends
with them, because he saw that they had some cows and goats; but they
trotted off as if a storm were coming on, keeping themselves in troops
like an army, whilst they are said to have shouted “Abu Daoud!”
The colony of Hedjasi lies in a good situation, and might become
a granary for Kordofàn. The soil is somewhat light; the ground
formerly ascended, which declination might have been gradually lost,
when the terraces were in the act of formation; at present it is
all fallen away.
_19th April._—After we had navigated the whole night, we found
ourselves this morning in the country called Tura, from whence
various roads lead to Kordofàn. The flat shores are sandy, and rise,
having a bad and meagre growth of trees. On the right and left are
some hills of downs, on which we find reddish pieces of granite,
such as I met with near the Sagiën. Whence this poverty of humus,
for Nature ought to be more fertilizing, as she washes away sand
from the ground first, and then brings the lighter humus just as we
see at the Delta? We saw nothing of the mountain group of Araskòll,
for the vessels go now too low. Suliman Kashef continues his voyage,
whilst Selim Capitan and Arnaud have landed on the left shore,
the latter to seek for gold in the Araskòll. The shores continue
in sandy downs, especially on the right side, but an immeasurable
level plain extends on the left, of which we have an extensive
view, by reason of the shores being scarcely elevated above the
water. This character of the country passes also subsequently to
the right side. The entirely flat margin of the broader part of the
stream, which we sail through with a favourable east wind, following
Suliman Kashef, is not pure sand; yet we observe upon it thin tracts
of underwood standing back a little, and dwarf mimosas.
This part is, as it were, the mouth of the river, and formed, in
ancient times, a shallow lake by the conflux of the White and Blue
streams, as the downs on the right prove, which are in connection
with those at Khartùm, and formed the very same embankment; for
the more violent pressure of the Blue river clearly opposes the
broad stream of the White one, as we see plainly near the island
of Tuti, and perhaps only subsequently broke through the angle of
land at the right side of this island; if it made previously, as
the Arabs believe, a bend from the city of Soba to the west into
the White river, and thus surrounded, with the latter, the desert
rocks of Omdurman lying at the side. An investigation, however,
would be necessary to ascertain this point. The Downs continue again
afterwards at the right shore, alternating even with downs of earth.
If a shallow lake of such dimensions existed here at one time,
the north wind drove its waves and billows to this side, and piled
up these irregular heights, which are not arranged in a row like a
chain, but sometimes advance, sometimes retreat. The lake withdrew,
and the river levelled, took and gave, so that in many places long
tracts of continuous sandy shores existed, having, however, a fertile
substratum, because otherwise there could not be the vegetation that
there is. This subjacent soil is also frequently visible as humus or
morass, and under it an adhesive blue clay is found, as I ascertain
plainly by the sailors’ poles, which are continually being pushed
into the deep. Thermometer 22° 29° to 30° 28°.
_20th April._—We halted yesterday at sunset, near the mandjeras of
Khurdshid Basha on the right shore. These docks (there is a similar
one on the blue river at Kamlin) are still used, and two new ships
have just been built, whilst ten barks are in dock for repairs. The
workmen live in the village immediately behind the high shore of
the downs, and I saw, in my excursion there, several fowls walking
cheerfully with a number of turtle-doves in the shade of the sunt
trees, although the people would not sell me a fowl. There is also
a corn magazine here, with overseers and soldiers.
The neighbouring sheikh and Arabs came to kiss Suliman Kashef’s
hand: he never once looked at them, but went on speaking with the
other Turks. Such conduct, with many other things of the same kind,
is practised deliberately; although it may seem to the inexperienced
only to arise from forgetfulness. In short, the Turks do everything to
make themselves disliked. It is most advisable for a person who is not
dependent on them, to treat them with a certain kind of indifference,
to seat himself immediately close to them, stretch his legs here and
there in all possible ways, and ask for a pipe, without waiting for
this favour from the swaggering fools; otherwise the Jaur or Kaffr
will always be neglected and despised by the Musselmen.
I examined this morning the nature of the downs, and found that they
are rather deposited earthen walls or dikes, fruitful humus strongly
impregnated with shingle or rubbish, (dissolved particles of stone)
and sand. A covering of sand overlays these hills of earth, being
thick, and accumulated by water and wind towards that part of the
river-side which is more broken and washed away. The hills lose
themselves towards the land side, gently descending in a wide plain
(galla) covered with scanty mimosas, which still remain tolerably
elevated above the river and the left shore. We observe here far
beyond the lower trees, a second dam of downs, which may surpass
the former one in height, and perhaps is the old border of the right
side of the Nile.
_Now_, when I see from these heights of downs, which are sufficiently
elevated to enable me to look over a low surface of earth, the
left shore lying level with the water-line itself, I am no longer
surprised at not having found any limits for the border of the Nile,
on our ascent. But it is exactly on this account that I take it
to be impossible, with the present state of the Nile, that those
morass hills (for the constituent parts are and remain nothing else
but morass, mixed and rolled on by other powers than the present),
could be formed, even at the highest water-mark, under present
circumstances. Yet the latter have been always the same since the
land became dry, and the left shore was still lower than it is at
present. But now the river has full play, and it cannot therefore rise
high, as the appearance of the hills of earth teach us themselves. If
there lay here, however, a shallow lake, through which the current
of the Nile flowed, then morass-hills might have been formed to the
height of the highest water-mark. And this is what I believe. The
Downs still continue for a good tract, and are lost imperceptibly,
again to emerge under the very same appearance.
Arnaud wants to have the hippopotamus-skin dressed again; it is
extended on the sand, but it diffuses a very bad smell, and he
retains therefore only its head. We must remain here till noon for
the sake of this important business, and because Arnaud _will_ make
observations. Then a somewhat favourable but faint wind gets up: we
navigate henceforth almost N. and N.W. In the afternoon the piles of
earth, thrown up by the waters of the lake, are visible on the right
side of the Nile, similar to those I have seen in the lake-caldron
of Taka.
At dusk reefs are seen in the river: they appear to me to be
limestones, and extend from the granite bank of Syene across the
river from E. to W. At one time they might have carried on their
backs beautiful islands, as the granite reefs also previously seen,
which took the road of the lake, and perhaps settled themselves again
at the Delta. We see that the White River finds opposition also here,
and has found still more, from which its slow current is confined
by itself. We navigate till late at night as far as Mount Mussa or
Brane, from which I procure specimens of stones of the chert species,
and remain there. Thermometer, 22°, 30° to 33°, 21°.
_21st April._—We come again before noon to a reef of rocks
running through the river, although the passage remains wide and
broad enough:—then to sluices. The favourable wind does not last
long to day; but the men row diligently, for every one is hoping
to see something dear to him again, like myself, who am impatient
and ardently longing for my beloved brother. Our course goes mostly
between N. and N.N.E., and in the evening, we land near the trees
of Moha Bey, where the last downs appear, whilst the shore extending
flat on the left, supports its old character. I am thinking of making
an excursion afterwards from Khartùm, because by the direction of
the downs I hope to be able to determine something with respect to
the shallow lake of the city.
_22nd April._—Thibaut wanted to go yesterday evening to Khartùm,
to take the first intelligence of our return, but that was not
allowed. I am obliged also to remain, because I have fallen among
robbers, and have eyes like Argus. The intelligence just arrives
that Soliman Effendi is dead. I am sorry for his family, as I was
for that of Vaissière, intelligence of whose death was brought to
us seven days ago, by an Arabian officer. Soliman Effendi is said,
as I hear now, to have poisoned the young lions I possessed: but
let him rest in peace! The society of Europeans must and will now
take another and better form.
A number of people came from Khartùm to pay their respects to our
little Basha, Suliman Kashef, who is lying under the trees on the
extended carpet. I am tired, and almost worn out, for I have not
slept the whole night, because I am expecting every instant to see
my brother, and have been looking, since sunrise, in the direction
of the spires of Khartùm. Thermometer 22° at sunrise.
At first we navigate N. by E., then N.N.E. Oh, for the happy
meeting! a former servant of ours has just come to his brother, Fadl,
and gives me good, but not sufficient, intelligence. We wind north,
near Omdurman, shortly before the mouth of the White river, where an
arm of the Nile runs round the little island on the left, and rocks in
the water on the right lie opposite to those at the right shore. Here,
therefore, the White stream had to break the last dam, and its current
was doubtless under the small chain of downs of Omdurman. At last
we bear up near the rocks from whence the White river, which was
unquestionably pressed through them and has but a slight breadth
here, takes the direction to north for this short tract. The other
vessels are already sailing up the Blue river, and we navigate very
slowly behind with our heavy vessel, the wind being contrary.
The thunder of cannon rolled down from the vessels—joy and
pleasure. I wished to describe our return, but I did not see my
brother. Black thoughts suddenly shook me as if a fit of ague had
attacked me. When I saw even the window-shutters of our divan closed,
where he might wait for me so comfortably in the shade, I trembled
violently, and my knees tottered so that they laid me on the bed. I
soon, however, got up, and sat before the cabin; and just at the
moment when our vessel touched the land, some one pointed him out
standing on the shore. I jumped ashore from the deck, and fell down:
my brother raised me up. Eleven days after this happy meeting he
died in my arms, completely broken by the effects of the climate.
APPENDIX.
* * * * *
Much has been written, advised, and spoken, concerning the
important question of the Geographical position of the sources of
the White Nile, since this voyage of mine; many ridiculous as well as
arrogant conjectures, and bold assertions, have been laid before the
learned world, without any loss of time, respecting this historical
subject. Among the pretenders to the discovery of the sources,
Antoine D’Abbadie stands out the boldest of the bold. (_Vide_ his
letters from Omokullu in Ethiopia, 5th, 6th, and 7th Aug., 1847, in
the Athenæum, Nos. MXLI. and MXLII. and those to Jomard and Arago,
in Paris, in the “Journal des Débats,” 5th Oct., and in the
“Comptes rendus Hebdomadaires des séances de l’Academie,”
4th Oct. 1847, No. XIV., T. XXV. p. 485-487).
The principal thing of importance for a traveller who starts on
expeditions of this kind, is to see with his _own eyes_, and to
verify by personal inspection or mental contemplation what he hears
from the Natives; for the _solitary_ traveller may have _everything_
related to him that he wishes, and, in fact, seeks to obtain. There
are no European companions, and still less eye-witnesses of the soil
of happy Ethiopia, to tax him with false statements; and how easy is
it to find natives who have no conception of the great importance of
their expressions, and are ready, without any qualm of conscience,
to assent to the preconceived notions of the traveller, when they
think by that means to please him!
M. Antoine D’Abbadie, even previously, had _discovered_ the
sources of the White Nile,—as he wrote in a letter, dated 17th
October, 1844, from Adoa (Adwa), in Habesh, addressed to us in
Kàhira. (Preussiche Zeitung, 21st February, 1845, and others.) That
glorious fountain-head was said to lie _then_ in the land of Gmura,
or Gamru, near the mountains of Bochi, or Dochi. The latitude and
longitude of it were not given. He does not seem to have planted the
_drapeau tricolore_ there, any more than my French companions did at
the final point of our expedition; because, had they done so, both
the Turks and myself would have set up our national standard. For
my part I did not let the opportunity slip of denying the claims of
D’Abbadie to raise a shout of victory at having solved the question
of the sources of the Nile, and to contradict his absurd etymology of
the Mountains of the Moon, upon which the whole discovery was said
to be based. (Monthly Report of the Geographical Society in Berlin,
7th Annual Vol., p. 20.) He thought that the name of “Gmura,” or
“Gamru,” being analogous in sound to that of the Arabic language,
had induced the Arabian Geographers to adopt this word, and to form it
into the present Kamar (Moon). Mr. Ayrton, to whom I will afterwards
advert, takes the opposite side, and is of opinion that the former
denomination is a corruption of the Arabic word “Kamar.”
This Nile source of 1844 appears, however, to have been dried up
again, or discarded by M. D’Abbadie, for he suddenly transplanted
the _true sources_ of the White Stream into another country; the
forest of Babia, between Inarya (Enarea,) and Jumma Kaka (Djimma
Kaka); and, _to be sure_,—between 7° 49′ N. Lat., and 34°
48′ E. Long., from Paris. (See his reports and letters of 1847).
I must, however, entirely controvert this second discovery,
notwithstanding it is declared in the most positive manner. Error,
indeed, is natural to man, but truth must assert its claims; besides,
I do not deny that M. Antoine D’Abbadie would have liked to have
made such a discovery, or to become an historical discoverer. Far be
it from me, who know what travelling is in Africa,—who suffered
the tortures of its deserts and its scorching heat, and struggled
several times with fever and death, to consider the Tricolour
which he fastened to the trees of the Babia forest as a vane or
weathercock. No: I greet it rather with friendly interest as a
cheerful sign to science and a way-mark to geographical progress,
and as an agreeable surprise to succeeding travellers.
Now D’Abbadie makes _his_ source of the Nile bubble up about
the _eighth_ degree of north latitude; whereas, I have navigated
up the river with this Expedition, which has advanced further than
any other, as far as the _fourth_ degree north latitude, where, as
already mentioned, the sources of the Nile were expressly pointed
out to us as lying still farther to the _South_. It appears to
me, therefore, a desperate and daring attempt, on the part of our
discoverer, to claim for himself “primo occupanti,” that water
which he saw, or even waded through, as being _a priori_, the _real
and true_ source of the White Stream. The pretensions to _priority_
of discovery,—claims that were to be kept up on any terms,—may
perhaps be what he has fixed his eyes upon, and which he has pursued
too eagerly, without any forbearance, as is plainly perceived by
his passionate letter to Mr. Ayrton, against Dr. Beke, who inclined
to the opinion expressed by me concerning the source. The degree of
latitude stated by him, in complete opposition to the direction of
all the stream territory we visited, is no stumbling-block to him any
more than the diametrically opposite opinion of the natives of Bari.
Antoine D’Abbadie specifies three points which appear to him
to decide the only true source of every river; it is therefore
surprising that the _first_ of these rules laid down by him, viz. to
determine the course of a river by the _opinion of the people_,
is exactly inapplicable to the White Nile; for _that_ is completely
in opposition to his favourite idea. He tells us expressly that the
aborigines dwelling at the sources of _his_ White Nile, make _these
very same sources_ flow collectively into the Abbay (Blue Nile). It
required, therefore, more than courage to throw aside the popular
opinion, and to give a contrary direction to the sources, without
having convinced himself _personally_ of the fact, by a corresponding
examination of these supposed tributaries. This statement of the
people of Damot ought to be more valued and credited, because,
according to him, they derived their origin from Gojam (Godjam),
and Bagemidr; therefore from a northern country on the Abbay.
A nation connected _directly_ with another by water-roads, as must be
the case between the inhabitants of Kafa, Enarea, and Bari, according
to the hypothetical river of D’Abbadie, ought to have _domestic_
animals, and customs in common, if only partly so, being under an
_exactly similar climatic situation_. Enarea and Kafa have coffee,
horses, and asses; but these are entirely unknown in Bari, as I
stated in the year 1844 (Allgemeine Preussiche Zeitung, 24th July,
1844). Sheep, poultry, and leather are said by D’Abbadie _not_ to be
in Kafa; whereas we have found them in Bari. He relates that dollars
are very well known in Kafa, and that the merchants are very eager
after them; but in Bari money is not known, as we convinced ourselves
by enquiry. From this argument, then, the sources of D’Abbadie
and the pretended countries they flow through are not connected with
Bari. Besides, the names of these countries were _never_ mentioned
to us. That the mountain-land, however, lying to the east of Berri,
in the neighbourhood of which the water-shed might be found, is a
principal emporium for these regions, and that they are connected with
the rivers discharging themselves into the Indian Ocean, follows from
the facts previously specified, and even from the indications of the
things found there. A slave-market does not seem, however, to exist;
and, in order to attest this fact, commercial reports alone could
prove whether copper also was brought from the interior of Africa. We
may boldly affirm, without any self-persuasion, that the _southerly_
direction of the stream can be determined, within a few degrees, from
the island of Tshanker, by the plastic formation of the mountainous
region, through the cleft valleys of which the true White Nile breaks.
The eye may, as it were, follow what we hear from the natives, who
only point towards the south, and assert that they do not know of
any water flowing towards E., where they are, however, in commercial
relation with the country of Berri, ten days’ journey off; but
they only speak of _springs_ found there, which were translated
to us by the Arabic word, “Birr.” We were given to understand,
also, that this land, so rich in copper, was mountainous; from which
I conjectured that there might be brooks there, especially at the
rainy season, but that not one of them could stand even a remote
comparison with their Tubirih (White Stream at Bari).
So, also, the beautiful fine-grained salt, brought from thence to
Bari, is not the rock-salt of the desert, but is extracted from the
brackish water and slime, according to the form of the vessels in
which it has been boiled. I have seen, however, in the great tract
of country between the lower Atbara and the Red Sea, that a land
subject to tropical rains—although, as in Africa, without rivers
and streams—can provide, even in the dry season, men and animals
with water from its earthly womb—that is, from the torrents and
water-tanks. The Anthropophagi, also living on the mountain-chain by
Logojà, in the neighbourhood of Bari, have not any running water;
but they take it from the ground: namely, from natural cisterns
or cavities.
We had all believed that the White Stream must come from the _East_;
therefore our enquiries about that side were more careful: but not
all our signs towards the East could bring back the Natives from
the South, the true source of the Stream. I remember still quite
well that I wrote this down immediately, and laid it before the
Geographical Society, in Berlin, some years before there was any talk
of the various sources described by D’Abbadie. Moreover, it seems
to follow from the whole configuration of the line of mountains, that
Nature has fixed here a water-shed to the East as well as to the West;
for the mountain chains of Logojà and Kùgelu stretch from East and
West to South, probably as branches of a mighty mountain-stock under
the Equator, from which the streams of the Bach’r-el-Abiad issue.
Although M. d’Arnaud, my companion during the voyage on the White
Stream, says that the latter is navigable for a “cinquante de
milles” from the island of Tshànker, and arbitrarily makes the
_main arm_ of the smaller rivulet of the Nile spring from the east;
yet this is either only the remnant of our old affection for the
_easterly_ descent of the river; or it may be the result of a want of
truthfulness. I challenge Thibaut and Sabatier, his own countrymen,
to come forward and state whether there was ever any talk about such
a main-arm as he describes. According to Làkono, who had been there,
and called the land wherein the source lies by the name of Anjan,
the water in the _four_ brooks, by the conflux of which the White
Nile is formed, reached _only up to the ankles_. This land, however,
lay to the south, as my travelling companions must remember, and
which Arnaud also allows, as I will afterwards prove.
Now if we would follow for at least 5° towards the north such
a Nile brook, from this county of Anjan to the Forest of Babia,
in order to be extraordinarily complaisant to M. d’Abbadie, who
might rely upon Arnaud, we should not find, even with a microscope,
the silver threads of his sources.
Now if I wished to discard the opinion of the people of Bari, as
being contrary to my conviction, like d’Abbadie has done with
respect to the views of the natives, because they were opposite
to his theory, I would not say anything of the rashness of the
“Knight of the Source,” nor envy him the fame which is due
to him as an indefatigable traveller, and the _croix d’honneur_
awarded to him for this presumed discovery; that is, supposing that
the stream we had before us on the island of Tshanker wound to the
_east_ from the south under the rocks of Lugi and Kalleri (evidently
harbingers of a high mountainous region), and then flowed humbly under
the mountain-chain of Logoja, to seek its origin from the fourth
to about the eighth degree of north latitude. The river, however,
does not accommodate itself to this course, but steps forth boldly
from its rocky gates, as a mountain-stream. The ascending ground,
and the rocks scattered in the river above the island, shew that
the fall must increase considerably in the mountainous region—as
even the rocky wall of Kàlleri forms a vast waterfall at the rainy
season—which might make us conclude that there is a lake lying high,
in which an extensive mountain plateau pours its waters, or perhaps
even serves as a periodical channel far above the Nile. The greater
gradation of the river-bed, necessarily following its entrance into
the rocky territory, must at last make the Forest of Babia an enormous
height, in a progressive ratio; and the latter, though at a distance
of four to five degrees, must be connected with mountain-ridges, to
lead the stream into a high longitudinal valley lying to the south,
as if into an aqueduct, so that it may not pour into the vast basin
to the west, to which the Sobàt also is hastening. Without entering
point by point into Antoine d’Abbadie’s accounts, which are not
always clear, and the hypothesis of his defenders, I must assume that
he abode not only in Inarya, the field of his study on the sources,
but also in Kafa and Bonga, for he expressly says so. I can readily
believe also, that the complication of rivers in the Forest of
Babia cost him considerable pains to find out the _true_ source of
the White Nile, against the _general and prevailing opinion there_;
likewise, that he tried to discover, by means of verbal expressions,
the relative quantity of water of the five tributaries, because
otherwise he must have resided there three or four years, &c.
Now if it be true that the people of Damot have emigrated from Gojam,
the Abbay must be well known to them, because Gros-Damot lies between
water, which partly encompasses Gojam, the Gojab, and the Didesa. I
do not altogether understand how he can reject the testimony of
the people of Damot, on the futile ground that they descended from
Gojam. If this nation now extends up to the summit of the sources,
so must they also know from their primeval acquaintance with the
Abbay, whether their waters pour into the Abbay or not. Though the
exploration of the mouth of the Niger has also cost much labour and
time; and though Dutch simplicity or craft still makes the Rhine
flow into the Waal, yet it is more natural for a nation dwelling
on a river to know in what direction it flows, than to be able to
give the direction of the curves and windings of its tributaries
towards the sources. And is it likely, that a people whom he calls
aborigines, and who must therefore be acquainted with their home,
should not know whether the river runs towards the south or to the
north, in a stream territory with which they are well acquainted?
The second decision of D’Abbadie, that the larger mass of water
decides a source or a tributary, overthrows entirely his third and
most essential one, viz. that one ought to look at the direction of
the river; because, in truth, he has neither followed the latter
as far as the White Nile, nor to the Sobàt, whose sources appear
to him a mere bagatelle. It almost seems as if he chivalrously cut
asunder the Gordian knot of that entanglement of rivers during his
hermitage in Iaka, and has tried to force on us a vague hypothesis
as being the real matter of fact.
There is a strange controversy in the relation of his journey of
discovery, which ought to be sifted closely. He had _long_ passed
over the mountain-chain of Nare, when he took up his abode in the
Forest of Babia, having arrived, as he expressly declares, from the
basin of the Abbay (Blue Nile) into that of the White Nile; and yet
he had, on his right, the sources of the Didesa, a tributary of the
_Blue_ Nile. According to this statement, he has never issued from
the combination of streams of the Blue Nile, or he has come to a
point to which rivers flow, as in Paradise, from all four corners of
the world. All this is not exactly adapted to make us believe that
the river Gojab, or Uma (Omo), which springs from those sources,
is identical with the _White Nile_.
Mr. Charles Johnston has conceived the strange belief that he
participates in the views of D’Abbadie; but the good man makes
his Gibbee (Durr, Omo) the Gibe and Gojàm of D’Abbadie, _receive_
at last the waters of the Abi (Abbay), in the environs of Fàzogl;
consequently he has claims with D’Abbadie to the discovery of the
main source of the _Blue Nile_.
Mr. Ayrton also (in the Athenæum, No. MLXI.), steps into the lists
for M. D’Abbadie. Notwithstanding his learned attempt to fix
etymologically the situation of the source-territory of the Nile by
a fortuitous coincidence of words according to a previous plan of
D’Abbadie, I cannot assent to his views.
If the inhabitants of the coast of the Red Sea first navigated
this Stream, as naturally would be the case, and the Sabæans, from
Arabia, conquered Habesh in the time of Solomon, the latter colony
might still have remained their principal commercial settlement on
the coast, and even have been planted long before their immigrations
from Asia. The dialect of the Ethiopians, which we still recognise
to belong to the Semitic languages, announces that there was a
communication with these maritime countries before the period of
history: yet, commerce on the coast of Habesh might perhaps only
have remained a coasting-trade; for history hands down to posterity
merely the fact, that the Arabs made journeys to China, and that
the Nabathæans brought Indian goods and asphalt on their camels to
the Egyptian market at the time of Alexander the Great,—the latter
article being fished up from the Red Sea. It is improbable that the
Sabæans, who were very well known under the successors of Alexander,
extended into the Ethiopian highlands their colonies in Habesh,
where even now the Arabic language only prevails on parts of the
coast, in commercial intercourse. It is very unlikely, also, that
they have given the name of “Mountains of the Moon” to a region;
because such a change of a local name, which was certainly imposed
upon that country beforehand, pre-supposes a regular Sabæan colony
on the spot, whose idiom might perhaps be discovered in a different
way than by the solitary word “Gamarö,” or “Gimirö;”
for we might derive this as well from “Gimri,” or “Gumri,”
(turtle-doves), as I have heard also somewhere in the Desert the name
of “Gebel Gimri.” It seems to me, therefore, that it is rather too
daring to wish to identify this expression,—according to Abbadie,
“Gamru,” or “Gmura,” with the Arabic “Kamar.” But if these
parts, so remarkable on account of the sources of the Nile, had been
known in the ancient times, the Egyptian priests and Herodotus, or
most certainly the later Greeks, would have learned something of them.
The argument that the illustrious Claudius Ptolemy derived his
_σεληνης ορος_ from the Arabs, appears to me completely
untenable. There is no record existing beyond the time of this
geographer that I know of, which mentions “Gebl Kamar;” if
there were, it would be convincing. There can be no doubt that
Ptolemy acquired his information from Egyptian elephant-hunters,
otherwise he would not have transferred the origin of the sources to
the neighbourhood of the Equator. These elephant-hunts were fitted
out like military expeditions by the kings of Egypt, and penetrated,
according to Pliny, far into the Ethiopian provinces, beyond the
Lybian deserts.
I cannot either participate in the views of Mr. Ayrton respecting
the points of culmination of the Ethiopian highlands, but I assume
that there are three independent mountain-chains in the interior of
Africa:—the eastern one in Habesh, the western in Darfûr, and the
southern being the Mountains of the Moon, in Anjan, near the equator;
which place I have mentioned several times in this discourse. These
form also partly the watersheds, as I will explain more clearly. I
also will allow myself here a play upon words. According to
D’Abbadie, the moon is called in Kafa “Agane” and “Agina,”
and the name of my moon-country is “Anjan.” What more therefore
do my African etymologists require? The two countries cannot lie very
far asunder, and the analogy of their languages is certainly possible,
without even consulting Mezzofanti,[7] but the pronunciation is always
difficult to reach. “Angan,” however, is not the word for moon
in Bari. If we wish to retain the expression of “Mountains of the
Moon,” we must go back to a primitive word of the language of the
place, as Dr. Beke thinks with regard to his “Mono Moezi.”
Once more I must return to Freind Arnaud, and his insipid account,
for we could not expect anything else from him, as he did not
keep any descriptive diary wherein he could note down his dreams
about Làkono’s body-guard of women, and things of the same kind;
but he has filled up his journal with lion and elephant hunts, and
other fabulous circumstances, like a pictorial newspaper. He says
(_Vide_ Bulletin de la Société de Géographie deuxième série,
t. xviii. p. 376) that the Nile is navigable from Bari for thirty
hours further, but forms here different arms, the most important
of which comes from the east, and flows past the great country of
Berri, which is fifteen days’ journey towards the east, from the
mountain-chain of Bellenia (Pelenjà). I also am of opinion that the
river, one arm of which, where we lay near the island of Tshànker,
was three hundred metres broad, and afforded only a shallow stream
of about three feet in depth to the vessels, which had become light
by reason of the provisions being consumed, notwithstanding it had
two miles’ rapidity, may be navigable for a considerable distance
further when the high water covers the rocks, provided no cataracts
of consequence oppose the course. Therefore he gives thirty hours
for the southern direction of the river before he makes an arm go to
the east. We could only have settled how far the river was navigated,
by proceeding on our course, if that had been possible at the time.
However, there has never been any talk of these thirty hours; and
Arnaud has, of his own will, reduced the distance of thirty days,
repeatedly given to us by the king of Bari and his attendants,
as the time required for navigating the different arms, in order
to pretend that he was _closer_ to the sources. But the division of
time into _hours_ must be known on the White Nile first, before such
a flippant substitution can take place. It seemed also incredible
to me that Anjan should be a month distant, but thirty days were
plainly represented to us. If we reckon only eight hours to be a
day’s journey, the distance would be _eight_ degrees, half of
which we should have to deduct naturally for local impediments, to
bring the geographical position of Anjan under the equator. That
we had not misunderstood the word “month” was proved besides
by Làkono clenching his fist three times, to denote thirty days,
and also by the expression that after _two months_ (therefore at the
end of March or beginning of April) the rains commenced. Lastly,
the circumstance that several other tribes were said to dwell on
the shores towards the south, bespeaks a considerable distance. It
is, however, still a question, whether the country of Berri is ten
or thirty days’ journey off. Làkono, in whose eyes the copper
so abundant there has an extraordinary value, might have feared,
at the commencement of our acquaintance, that we wanted to spoil
his trade with Berri, and to enrich ourselves with its treasures:
from this supposition he increased the distance threefold.
But when Arnaud arbitrarily reduces that first statement to fifteen
days’ journey, it shews a thoughtless disposition; for he was not
only present at the conversation with the king, but we have spoken
of it among ourselves. He has, therefore, either entirely forgotten
it, and his recollection has not been assisted by any notes written
down at the time, which is quite necessary in these countries,
notwithstanding the illness to which we are constantly liable; or
he wanted to give a greater air of probability to his account by
fiction, namely, by substituting thirty hours for thirty days.
When I find marked on his map above Bari, “Country of the
Pulunchs,” it recalls clearly to my recollection how he believed
every thing without investigation, and noted down what Thibaut told
him. I was sitting one day sketching on the rocks of the island: some
natives stood by, who understood very well what I was doing, and I
still see them—how they extended their arms horizontally, and made
undulating movements, which was meant to denote a continuation of the
mountains lying before us to the south, and then mentioning several
names, held up their hands together, and by the thumb indicated to
me that there was _one_ mountain exceeding all the others in height,
whilst they looked contemptuously at the other chain of mountains. At
the same time they bawled in my ears, because I did not speak, and
still less could answer, so that I was nearly deaf, under which
affliction they probably thought I was labouring. I got up and
went down to the shore, where I saw Thibaut standing. He stretched
his hand towards the south, with an enquiring look, and the people
said “Pulunch,” whereupon he burst out into an Homeric laugh,
and said, “that is something for Arnaud.” The latter has made
a country out of this observation, and perhaps with justice.
With regard to the time of the winds and rains in Central Africa,
I have tried several times, but find myself incapable of explaining
these magnificent natural phenomena. It appears certain, that the
monsoons of the Indian, the trade-winds of the Atlantic Oceans, and
the north winds from the Mediterranean, are subject to different
natural laws in the interior of Africa, where it is comparatively
cooler than on the sea-shore; for the winds were never constant during
our course: they changed continually from side to side, and all the
observations and calculations of our sailors, accurate as they are
in other places, failed in ascertaining the tide and quarters of
the moon. As to the mutual swelling of the two Niles near Khartùm
(called by the Turks Khàrdùm), the sources have nothing to do with
the first rising of the water, but the succeeding ones give a quantity
of water to the countries subject to tropical rains, together with
their gohrs and tributaries, among which the Sobàt is the most
considerable for the White Stream. This mass of water immediately
becomes imperceptibly level, excepting certain disproportions,
with the head of Sennaar, conformably to hydrostatic laws.
It would be an idle attempt to endeavour to speak out clearer and
more strikingly touching the formation of the soil of Central Africa;
for a master like Professor Carl Ritter has already done this in
his “Glance at the Source-territory of the Nile.” In order to
set aside many preconceived opinions, and again to give the true
imprint of my own views, I do not hesitate to annex the report
of Dr. Girard, whom I have several times mentioned, and which was
contained in the above instructive little work, being partly founded
upon my geognostical collection; because this learned young man has
discovered and ascertained, with acuteness rarely to be found, the
quality of the soil in Africa, so far as I am able to judge from my
expedition. He says:—“There are three great mountain chains in the
eastern part of Central Africa, one extending to the east, the other
to the South, and the third to the West. The eastern one surrounds
the large Tzana-lake, and contains the sources of the Tacazze and
the Blue Nile, and ascends easterly from the latter to a height of
more than 10,000 feet. The southern and south westerly, respecting
the elevation of which nothing is known, forms the water-shed between
the tributaries of the Nile and the territory of the streams flowing
westerly, and is that region formerly called the Mountains of the
Moon. Lastly, the north-westerly, the centre of which is in the
Jebel Marra, from which some tributaries wind towards the south,
to the Bah’r-el-Abiad; but the most of these subordinate streams
flow towards the west, the centre of Africa. Between the eastern and
southern mountain-stock, there is another chain of high mountains,
not extensive but lofty, which, forming the westerly part of Enarea,
appears to spread to the kingdom of Bari, and attains in Enarea a
height of more than 7000 feet.[8]
“A marsh-land extends to the south of this mountain, and the
Goshcop flows into it: if it be permitted to carry our surmises so
far, we should say that not any high mountains are to be expected
further to the south, for coffee and cotton are cultivated on the
other side of the Goshcop-valley, because we conceive that there is
a salt-lake, and, lastly, a land producing gold. The former may be
considered to lie on a dry table-land, the latter on a low plain,
wherein the auriferous loam and sand may be deposited.
“A similar auriferous foreland seems to extend in the centre
of these regions, between the highlands of Enarea and Bari, to the
upper course of the Bah’r-el-Abiad, and the mountains of Kordofàn,
Sennaar, and Fàzogl.[9] It is a country which is inhabited partly by
negroes pursuing agriculture. Another part consists of wide plains,
covered with high grasses, wherein many elephants pasture, and which
is bounded on the north by a girdle, thirty miles in breadth, of
a ground containing gold-sand. These are the plains through which
the Sobàt (written in French Saubat) flows with its _tributaries_
to the Bah’r-el-Abiad.[10] The specimens from the shores of the
Sobàt are composed partly of a micaceous sand, of a brown black
ochrous clay, of chalky sand, and partly of a conglomerate, which
is baked together and composed of small fragments of limestone. The
sand, when it is pure, consists of several little yellowish grains of
quartz, a small portion of reddish feldspar, some brown iron-stones,
tombac, brown mica, and little grains of a black mineral, the nature
of which cannot be accurately ascertained. This composition denotes
that the sand derives its origin from a mica slate, and gneiss
chain of mountains, not very distant; for if the sand were far from
the mountains from whence it sprang, it would not contain coloured
mica. The sand of the shore of the Bah’r-el-Abiad, in the kingdom
of Bari, is perfectly similar to this sand, only somewhat coarser
in grain, and, moreover, merely attaining to the size of millet. It
contains principally quartz, then the same brown mica, only in
a larger quantity than in the preceding sand, and, in addition,
several more of those black grains, proving that there is hornblende
here. This comes probably from syenite and diorite masses, as they
are frequently seen in gneiss and mica-slate mountains. They might,
however, be of volcanic origin, for they contain, in great abundance,
the lava of the Jebel Defafaungh (written in French Tefafon) on the
north boundary of the said plain. The mountain is clearly an extinct
volcano. It rises probably from a basaltic plateau, for basalt with
olivine and pyroxene are seen in it, and red-brown porous lava, with
large rounded hornblende crystals and dark-grey tophus, formed of
clear little porous fragments of lava and fine ashes, seem to cover
its declivity. The tophus, as well as the lava, does not contain any
vitreous feldspar, nor is any pumice-stone observable among them, but
all the products of the volcano shew that it is a converted basalt.
“The volcanic activity appears not to have extended far, and is
only discovered on the northern margin of this cauldron, which was
probably, at one time, a large sweet-water basin, for the stones
of Sennaar in the north, those of Fazògl and Bertat in the east,
of the country of Bari in the south, and of Kordofàn and Jebel Tira
in the west, are of a different nature.
“The collections in this city are derived partly from M. Werne,
who made them in the expedition sent by the Basha of Egypt in the
year 1840, and partly are owing to the scientific liberality of
M. Russegger; and they afford sufficient information with respect
to the general geognostic relations of these scarcely discovered
mountains.
“The chain of the Mountains of the Moon consists, according to the
several specimens, of gneiss and mica-slate. One of these specimens,
was taken from the most southerly point that the expedition reached,
and indeed, ‘from the cataracts in the land of Bari;’ that is to
say, from the rock which prevented the expedition from penetrating
further into the country. It is gneiss, composed of white feldspar,
and much black mica, and mica-slate; the friable and exceedingly
granulous quartz does not contain feldspar, but small scaly black
mica. There is found, moreover, in the valley of Berri, magnet
iron-stone, which, however, does not seem to be commonly known;
for it has been collected to the amount of several pounds weight,
as being merely sand, without any other particles of stone.[11]
“The magnet-iron displays also, in several places, brittle iron-ore,
and reminds me of similar occurrences in the large mica-slate
mountain-chain of the Brazils.
“We do not possess, unfortunately, any specimens from the high
mountains of Enarea, but the stones of the lands of Bertat, Sennaar,
and Fazògl, are well known through M. Russegger’s excellent
collection. There are granite and gneiss mountains in the land
of Bertat, and in the southern part of Fazògl; chlorite slate
(probably the stone bringing gold here) follows this chain towards
the north, together with mica-slate; and lastly, in Sennaar, there
is also clay-slate. In the latter, which is very much changed in some
places, veins of granite and quartz are at the top, so that here also,
as in many other points, the clay-slate appears the more ancient,
the granite the more modern stone. Granite is met with likewise on
the Bah’r el Abiad, in the Jebel Njemati (Iemati), being partly of
pink feldspar, white albin, grey quartz and black mica, and partly
composed without albin, and only of dark red feldspar, white quartz,
and black mica.
“Similar species of rocks are found in Kordofàn, viz., granite,
gneiss, and mica-slate. However, diorite makes its appearance towards
the south, consisting of white feldspar, green and black hornblende,
and a little volcanic sand. On the island of Tira there is also
chlorite slate. But the most remarkable thing is the appearance of
clinkstone or phonolite, found in Koldadschi (written also Kodalgi
and Koldagi), in Russegger’s collection.
“This circumstance is conclusive of a considerable development of
basaltic stones in these regions, though it does not denote volcanic
phenomena; for phonolite, with us, only appears in those basaltic
mountain-groups where there has not been any eruption of volcanoes.
“A sandstone and hornstone formation, probably belonging to the
latter tertiary rocks, is situated before the mountain-chain of
Kordofàn and Sennaar, to which Mount Mandera, which consists of
syenite, is united in the east. It forms the Jebel Mussa, specimens
from which have been given both by Russegger and Werne.
“We wind up the geognostical picture of these countries by saying
that we find granite, gneiss, and mica-slate generally spread, with
which clay-slate, chlorite-slate, and diorite present themselves,
all of the earlier formation,—new stones of basalt, phonolites,
and volcanoes, springing from the tertiary epoch, join on immediately
to the others. The limestone conglomerates, found in the Sobàt,
have perhaps their origin in chalk lime-stone, to which they belong
apparently, judging from external appearances; and if this should
be the case, the geognostical relations of the eastern part of
central Africa are closely allied to those of Palestine, Syria,
and Asia Minor.”
THE END.
LONDON:
Printed by S. & J. BENTLEY and HENRY FLEY,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: A Parisian or French foot is equal to 1·066 English
(Transl.)]
[Footnote 2: A water-shed is the geographical term for a
mountain-range, which causes the rivers rising on them to descend
in different directions.]
[Footnote 3: A mètre is equal to 3·281 English feet. (Trans.)]
[Footnote 4: On the Rhine. (Trans.)]
[Footnote 5: Corrected in this translation. (Transl.)]
[Footnote 6: Bartholomew de las Casas, a Spanish prelate, born at
Seville in 1474, and died at Madrid 1566. He set at liberty the
Indians who had fallen to his share in the division of Cuba, when
it was conquered by Columbus, and interested himself for them with
King Ferdinand. With a strange inconsistency, however, he became
the author of the slave trade, by his proposal to purchase negroes
from the Portuguese in Africa to supply the planters with labourers,
which suggestion was unfortunately adopted.—(Translator).]
[Footnote 7: Poor Cardinal Mezzofanti, “the monster of languages,”
as Byron called him, died while this translation was being made,
16th March, 1849. (Trans.)]
[Footnote 8: The above supposition is justified by the plastic
proportions given: we must assume, however, that this chain falls
away to the country of Bari, but swells up south of Bari, and joins
a mountain-stock in the country of Anjan.—_The Author._]
[Footnote 9: Gold is, however, unknown in Bari.—_The Author._]
[Footnote 10: I do not know of any tributaries belonging to the
Sobàt.—_The Author._]
[Footnote 11: The magnet iron-stone is not found in the valley of
Berri, but principally in the mountains of Bari, especially in Korèk,
where it must be, however, general; for the iron-sand I brought with
me, which was already cleared from stones, and perhaps from mud,
appears in the mountains themselves, in the dry beds of the torrents,
and washed out hollows and ravines.—_The Author._]
Transcriber's note:
pg 37 Changed: first suubdued to: subdued
pg 40 Changed: very difierent kinds to: different
pg 56 Changed: because the Dinkani to: Dinkaui
pg 59 Changed: a heathen Dinkani to: Dinkaui
pg 60 Changed: 60′ to S. and 75′ to E. to: 60″ to S. and 75″ to E.
pg 61 Changed: southerly 60°. long. to: 60″
pg 61 Changed: towards S.E. 50° to: 50″
pg 62 Changed: S.W. 28′ to W. to: 28″
pg 62 Changed: S.W. 30′ to W. to: 30″
pg 62 Changed: Mount Bio S.W. 60′ to: 60″
pg 81 Changed: everthing for beads to: everything
pg 142 Changed: protruding spheically to: spherically
pg 142 Changed: bows and arrors to: arrows
pg 213 Changed: quarter aften ten to: after
pg 218 Changed: a little foward to: forward
pg 223 Changed: village no the left to: on
pg 233 Changed: insterspersed with slender to: interspersed
pg 237 Changed: again witk a to: with
pg 242 Changed: notwithsanding the narrow to: notwithstanding
pg 319 Changed: peices or specimens to: pieces
pg 341 Changed: forest of Bahia to: Babia
pg 345 Changed: σεληνος ορος to: σεληνης
pg 345 Added a missing reference to footnote 7 after: cardinal
Mezzofanti,
pg 352 Changed: the expediton for to: expedition
Minor changes in punctuation have been done silently.
Other spelling inconsistencies have been left unchanged.
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