A few days ago the Pascha issued orders that all fires in the camp

should be extinguished at evening’s gun-fire,—a most wise and proper

order, as the carelessness, and want of caution of the soldiery was now

doubly dangerous, the huts having become much more inflammable, from the

straw they are formed of being thoroughly dried; and at length it was

found proper to collect all the supply of powder into one hut, dig round

it a wet ditch, and surround all by a wooden fence, near which all fires

were strictly forbidden. But now again there burns, not fifteen paces

from this fence, one of the largest fires; nor is much watch kept over

it, even in the windiest days, and of an evening, one sees fires in the

camp as numerous and late as ever. So it is ever with the Turks. An

order is issued, and no sooner is it so than it is forgotten, nor is it

recalled to mind till some smart bastinadoing in consequence of some

misfortune caused by the breach of it, thus forcibly awakens the memory.

Carelessness and dependence on a merciful Providence are here equal, and

go hand-in-hand. When on the Nile, we often fell in with vessels loaded

with dried straw, and heaped so that the crew had barely room to work

them, but this did not by any means prevent a roaring fire from being

kept up between the piles of straw for cooking, and other purposes.

Every day the soldiers bring to myself and brother numbers of dead

snakes, but, unfortunately, so mangled as to be useless as specimens;

the soldiery not fancying we merely want the skins, but believing our

wish to be the flesh to prepare medicines from. Some of the men have

confidently assured us, that, in a thicket, they came on a snake some

twenty-feet long, and as thick as a man’s thigh. A kind of boa,

probably; pity they could not kill him. The great number of snakes

hereabouts, almost all very venomous, make our living in the open air

and on the ground very unsafe, and it is by no means a matter of

indifference here under what bush, or among what long-grass one sits

down: a loose stalk touched, or the bite of an insect, immediately calls

up one’s fears that it is a snake or scorpion; and when out shooting we

move with eyes bent on the ground, more anxiously looking out to prevent

ourselves treading on any venomous reptile, than gazing about for our

game. However, during such excursions, we have fallen in with many

nebbek-trees; and, during the rainy season, the plants and herbage must

be full and numerous, as even now there is much verdure, though the soil

is covered with withered grasses and herbs. There are also many cotton

plantations that seem to have been tended with care, all being hedged

round and cleared of weeds. In this neighbourhood the durra grows to an

astonishing height; on one field it had an average height of four or

five times the length of our double rifles, and stood so close that it

was with difficulty we could force our way between the stalks.

_6th May._—Early this morning we mounted our dromedaries and, attended

by a servant and guide furnished by Mohammed Defalla, took our way to

(the two hours and a half distant) El Soffrè, where at present Mohammed

Din and most of his people reside. The Pascha very reluctantly granted

his permission; and it was in truth an adventurous enterprise, thus,

without any protecting escort, to place oneself in the power of these

faithless Haddenda. But we were safer all alone, than if accompanied by

the few soldiers the Pascha offered us as escort. Our course was

eastward: for the first half hour it lay through large durra fields, in

which the heads of the grain were cut off from the tall stems, for it

was free to any one in the camp to provide himself and beasts with as

much of this as he pleased, these Arabs not having as yet shown any

great inclination to follow the Pascha’s orders of forming a grain

magazine, as they put no faith in his promises of payment for their

trouble. The greater part has, or will be gathered by the Arabs, who

hang about here in troops, and this is hidden by them in their secret

stores, so as to render the stay of the army here impossible, for want

of this necessary bread stuff. The Arabs (Haddenda) met us often when

some little distance from our camp, and, at last, in large numbers; and

the whole path from these durra fields to El Soffrè was one procession

of people, camels, and asses laden with durra. Among the former were

many crowds of women, but all old and ugly, who sweating under their

loads, trotted behind the beasts, while the men, armed with lance and

shield, rode or walked proudly and burdenless in rear of all. Most of

the burden of labour seems here to fall on the women, and it is plain

they hold no high place, as they are not allowed to anoint their hair.

It was soon evident that large bodies of Arabs were assembled somewhere

near, and that the population of Taka was greater than given out,—a

suspicion much strengthened by such extensive durra fields, and by the

many wells sunk; as also by the extent of ruined huts and enclosures

within our camp, where, ere we came, the Arabs had had their abodes. All

we met were most civil, “Mirhababa” being shouted to us by almost all.

After the first half hour’s ride we came to a wood, but were much

surprised to see only young trees, and not, as we had hoped, old and

venerable timber. But we soon discovered the cause, in fires still

glimmering in different parts around, so placed, that it was evidently

the inhabitants’ intention to burn down the trees to manure the ground,

and also thus to gain clear ground for fresh fields of grain, and better

pasturage for their herds. To a great distance round their camping

places, which, like all Nomadic tribes, they frequently change, these

new copses are found in large quantities.

Incredibly rapidly does all herbage spring up here, called forth by the

great warmth, and the regular tropical rains, from the rich fruitful

earth, and especially where subterraneous water affords moisture, even

to the surface soil. This was here evidenced, by the patches of green

grasses, the trees, and especially the durra, which now, under the

glowing heat, not only sent out from the under joints of the stem

beautifully fresh and vigorous shoots, but, from the tops, where the

heads had been cut off, a verdant crown of graceful sprouts. Most of the

copse, besides some nebbek-trees, mimosas, &c., consisted of a species

of tree that sends out from the root many stems and branches, with

leaves small as needlewood, and much resembling the cypress. The wood is

very weak, excessively light, gives little charcoal, and is very pithy

and brittle. If these trees are deprived of their leaves by fire, or

have got no water for a year, they wither and die away; they give little

shade, and our people called them Aetle. Some quarter of an hour ere we

reached Mohammed Din’s abode, the trees seemed far larger and of

considerable age; the woods also were thicker, as the fires had not,

seemingly, raged so furiously here. But the older trees looked most

mournful; the tops and upper branches were withered, without foliage,

and not seldom were the under ones in the same state.

Much to our vexation, we learned that Mohammed Din had gone with fifty

Schaigies, to a camp of his nephew, Sheik Mussa, some two hours and a

half further distant; and his absence was all the more annoying to us,

as it nullified our purpose of alighting at his tent, partly to gain a

better knowledge of this far-famed man in his own household, and of the

manners and habits of his tribe, and partly to fill our empty and

craving stomachs. His absence, therefore, caused us to dismount at the

entrance to the village, at the hut of Jusbaschi (Captain) Sali Effendi,

where he and the liquor-loving Sheik Ali were making very slow progress

in arranging and collecting the tribute. We had intended remaining with

them till four o’clock P.M., when the worst part of the day’s heat would

have been over; but we soon perceived remaining here was out of the

question, as the small hut afforded no protection from the sun, and was

constantly crowded with Arabs delivering cattle, who never ceased

wrangling and disputing among themselves, as well as with the tribute-

gatherers. We therefore resolved, in spite of the sun, to push on and

reach the village of Mitkenab, two hours and a half distant. Another

reason, too, urged us to move, viz., to regain our liberty; for hardly

had we dismounted at El Soffrè, when my brother was recognised by some

Arabs as a Hakem, and was instantly mobbed by real and fancied sick in

such numbers, that ere long we had half the village round us, demanding

medicines and medical advice, and both gratis. Great patience is

required here by any one acting the part of Doctor, as all directions

must be repeated over and over again, and after all, it is more than

probable, these are neither understood nor followed, and the parties

return again and again to ask questions, and torment the prescriber. The

people here not understanding us, an Arabian interpreter was necessary,

and this made matters worse, as he could not convey medical directions.

Here, too, a sick man never comes alone, but ever accompanied by six or

eight relations or friends, every one of whom must interfere, and give

his opinion as to the illness, and, as may be easily imagined, all this

severely taxes the medical man’s patience and temper. All Arabs and

Turks long and beg for medicines, and with the dose the illness must at

once vanish, or else both doctor and medicine are held valueless. To

repay the doctor for advice or medicine, never, by any chance, enters

their heads; they hold the furnishing of the one as the other to be only

the doctor’s duty, before both man and Allah.

After we were thus for some time pestered, we again mounted our

dromedaries, and left the Arabs to their own devices, who gazed after us

with no pleased eyes, and showered curses on us, as we would not remain

and serve out medicines to them; although not one of them would, on

being asked, procure us even a little milk, but slunk away behind his

companions on our requesting it, and pointed to his neighbour as better

able to furnish it than he. For more than half-an-hour we rode on

through the far scattered village, nor even then did we see any thing

like the half of it, as most of the huts lay off the main path,

concealed among bushes and trees; and great numbers of the tribe, also,

had no huts at all, but lived under the forest’s shade. All the huts we

saw were composed of palm mats, circular and kiln-shaped, high behind,

but so low in front, that one has to stoop much to enter them. The

interior arrangement is most simple; a raised sleeping-place, called an

angareb; a few stakes driven into the ground, or a low bench covered

with mats, woven of reeds of dried twigs, form the whole furniture. If

the owner is well to do, the sleeping-place is covered or surrounded

with a great coarse grey woollen cloth, to keep off wind and weather. A

murhaka (two stones to grind grain with), and earthen pot are all the

moveables, as these, with a girbe (leathern water-bucket) are all

required for Arab housekeeping; so that, without any great preparation

or loss, they can desert the birsch (huts), and proceed on their

constant wanderings. Some twenty or forty huts, inhabited by families

related to each other, are generally surrounded with an enclosure or

thorn fence, called a seriba; and so a settlement or village is made up

out of a number of these smaller squattings. Each of such family seribas

has the most respected or oldest of its occupiers as its head or Sheik;

and this dignity is often even hereditary, so that the children

frequently have a wokil. In the evenings a fire burns before each tent,

on each of which may be seen, in every position and posture, the earthen

pots, filled with durra; and as every pot is, more or less, cracked and

broken, considerable ingenuity is required so to place them, as to only

expose to the fire such parts of them as remain sound, and capable of

holding in the contents while the cooking is going on. Round these pots

crowd the women, occupied in preparing the food; all of those we saw

were old and ugly; but, by all accounts, there is no want of young and

pretty girls here, and such are also in much request as female household

slaves in Bellad-Sudan. Of these, however, we saw none, as all held

their faces closely muffled up in their dirty and torn ferdas; and all

the young-looking women we came upon ran off sideways into the bushes,

or hid behind trees to avoid our gaze. Almost all the women wore a skin

round the hips, which reached down to the knee, and was lapped over in

front. On the march they let it hang down behind like a tail, and when

they sit down, they draw the part hanging down behind in between the

legs and up in front, fastening it to the girdle. Some of the men were

also thus dressed. Two men from the hill regions we fell in with had a

similar skin round the hips, and, in addition, a sheepskin, wool

inwards, hanging over the shoulders: this was the whole dress; and when

to it were joined their long hair and fierce wild faces, they were

excellent specimens of truly savage life.

In the centre of these family divisions there is always an open space,

on which the children, always numerous, play and amuse themselves, all

naked as when born, under the burning sun. Their activity and rapidity

of motion joined to their dark colour and grinning faces, give them much

resemblance to what we would picture a parcel of young devils to be;

even such small children as with us would be in the cradle or nurse’s

arms, roll and tumble about in the sand, without any one heeding them,

but left to look out for themselves. Nothing is more amusing than to

watch these young imps, only a few days old, as they crawl and roll

about, for in these warm climes development is rapid. Clothes they have

none to dirty or spoil, and mixed up among them may be seen cattle of

all kinds; and the lambs and goats jump over and play among and with the

merry little black creatures.

As we all alone rode on through the village, the men gazed most savagely

and angrily at us, and as they certainly took us for Turks, did not

bestow the kindest or most friendly wishes on us. All the natives of

these lands have a wild and defiant physiognomy, and, with their long

black hair and fiery eyes, are by no means unlike their companions the

beasts of blood and rapine of the shaaba. At home here, among their own

settlements, no man moves unarmed, their round shields and lances are

never for a moment out of reach. He who has no iron-headed lance or

javelin, is sure to have a long slender staff, of some hard wood,

pointed at the end, which, against a naked foe, is little inferior to a

more finished lance; the higher orders wear swords in no way differing

from those in common use in Bellad-Sudan. Their build is generally tall

and slender, but powerful, and a proud feeling of self-reliance and

self-esteem is plainly displayed in all their movements and gestures. In

colour most are dark brown or brown-black, but many, especially the

women we saw, are brown-yellow, or even yellow itself. Some few Negro

slaves we saw were perfectly black. Their manner of dressing their hair

is similar to that of the Bischari. They have on the crown a toupé, on

the sides and behind the long hair is laid in small round twists or

curls, first plaited and intertwisted and then frizzed out, so that a

strong head of hair makes the head itself seem more than double the

usual size, and when beheld from behind, gives the wearer the appearance

of having no head, but an immense pyramid of hair rising direct from the

shoulders. Thick beards they cannot boast of, and as little of thick

calves. Water and wells were in plenty; the latter, holes of twenty or

thirty feet deep, going down into a clay subsoil; from these the water

is drawn by the women and poured into great circular flat troughs, made

by a low small surrounding wall of clay or mud, for the cattle to drink

from. The keeping these troughs full, as well as fetching all water for

household purposes, falls on the women; these, as we passed, were

standing in crowds round the wells, drawing water or filling the skins

which were enclosed in a kind of cord net-work. Some bore off these to

the huts, some loaded the many asses with them, while the men sat

looking calmly on, nor did one of them stir to aid or assist the women

in any way. The asses here, as well as the camels, are all trained to

lie down, so as to be more easily loaded. Herds of cattle we saw every

where, and often remarked how these were being driven off by their

owners into concealment in the forest.

The number of huts and tents we beheld were some 1500 or 2000, but far

the greater number we did not see, and many, very many of the natives

have no fixed dwelling. At all events, from the numbers of men, women,

and children we met, double the number of huts we saw would have been

necessary to house them. In the present critical times, doubtless many

natives from other places (such as the settlements of Issi and Teschum,

nearer our camp) have joined Mohammed Din, but it is equally certain

that a greater number (30,000 or 40,000, according to Sali Effendi)

have, from terror of the Pascha, or to conceal their herds and other

goods, fled to the chaaba, to which wilds Mohammed Din himself has sent

off 6000 camels, that they might be out of the way of the Turks. On

reaching the centre of the village, our path led up a gohr some twelve

or fourteen feet wide, which must at times contain a large body of

water, and which runs from east to west. In it, and on both sides along

its course, were the greater number of the wells. It seems as if here,

either a subterraneous stream ran, or that some sunken supply of water

filtered up to the surface through the clay subsoil, as at all seasons

of the year, water is to be had here in plenty. In the country of the

Haddenda is one spring, which supplies nearly the half of it; there one

can plainly observe how the water runs strongly below the surface, and

the land of Taka is also full of such underground watercourses. But,

perhaps, after all it is a mere gathering of water caused by the soil

some twenty or thirty feet down being a stiff clay through which water

cannot penetrate. However, in the gohr of the hills, even where the

ground slopes, and a constant dropping of water must be going on, this

element can every where be found. From this under stratum of clay, the

inhabitants procure the material from which they form the burnt red

earthenware water jugs, which they use in their washings before prayer

and at other times.

In this gohr we came upon a great mass of men and beasts, and much

surprised the former seemed at our appearance. We now understood our

guide’s anxious hurry to get us on to where Mohammed Din was. He

believed us not to be in safety among these people, and he was in the

right, for as Mohammed Din was not at hand, who alone could answer for

our lives, it were better we hastened to him; though it was highly

improbable he would neglect to provide for our security, as his only son

Mussa was a hostage in our camp. We kept up this gohr some half hour,

having all the time many wells and springs on our right and left, and

meeting many Arabs. Our way lay north-east, and all through bush that

often compelled us to lie flat along our dromedary’s back, not to be

left suspended on some tree, although no old or high trees were to be

seen among it, from the constant devastations of the burnings. Ere long

the wood became thinner, the trunks of numbers of trees, withered and

uprooted by the heavy mass of the flood, lay scattered on the ground far

and wide, in many places blocking up the path, and every where annoying

to the rider and dangerous to the legs of his animal. In many places the

water had dug out large hollows in the soil, and here the ground had

fallen in, as if the under soil had been carried away by the waters.

These continued for an hour of our way, and the grey soil uncovered by a

single green stem, with its holes thus excavated, and small gohrs,

devastations, leafless dead trees standing erect or thrown to the earth,

and covered with slime and mud, with no bird or beast visible on or near

it, showed out most mournfully and disheartening. But these holes,

sinkings, lifeless and uprooted trees, bore strong testimony to the

great gatherings and deep floods of waters, the more so as the ground is

level, and so no great stream can be looked for. From all appearance,

the mountains of Abyssinia must shed down much water on to these lands.

One hour before we reached Mitkenab, the country altered. The trees

again showed green leaves, and were enlivened by some long tailed birds,

which we did not venture to pursue, but remained sitting quietly on our

beasts, as the glowing sun shone directly down on our skulls, and no

refreshing breeze made its way in among the trees. We caught sight also

of some antelopes, vanishing like lightning in the distance. The whole

way now showed one uninterrupted stream of people and beasts, and great

numbers of persons on camels, horses, and asses. Some few women and

girls we got a peep at might be called pretty; they much resembled those

of the island, and had, as all women in Bellad-Sudan, large black though

not fiery eyes, round faces, small rather stumpy noses, and thick though

not blubber lips. Their greatest beauty was small very white teeth. All

gazed with angry and hostile eyes on us, taking us for Turks, as we were

the only Franks that had as yet found their way into these lands.

Again, ere we reached Mitkenab, the country altered, and for the better,

becoming almost beautiful, at least beautiful as far as any scenery can

be without hill or water. All was now bright green; older and finer

trees were in numbers on the edge of the chaaba (bruch, thick jungle or

bush). We were most particularly pleased by the great nebbek-trees,

forming bowers and halls, which were overgrown, and joined together by a

bright green creeper till complete roofs were formed, affording perfect

shelter from the hottest sun. The under branches of many of these trees

were cut half through, and their ends being trained down to the ground,

thus formed an enclosure for cattle, the entrances to which were stopped

up with thorny bushes. In all these lands the trees in general afford

but a poor shade, and one can easily conceive how gladly we availed

ourselves of such perfect camping places as these bowery trees offered.

In their branches cooed thousands of doves. We met hereabouts a large

number of camels loaded with salt, which is procured in masses by

evaporation of the waters of the Red Sea (Bachr male); and brought from

thence by Sauakin, and sent even to India; packed up in pear-shaped

basket-work cases.

Mitkenab at last came into sight through the trees, offering us an

asylum from the burning midday sun. On our halting outside the village

under some shady trees, numbers of Arabs as usual gathered round us,

curiously inquiring who we were, but it never occurred to any one of

them to offer us, thirsting as they must have seen us to be, either milk

or water. Ere long the two Sheiks of the village appeared, but evidently

regarded us as very suspicious characters; they did certainly give us

their hands in sign of welcome, but did not invite us to enter the

village. Soon after one of them sent us a present of a fat sheep, but we

declined accepting it, as we expected food would be provided us, and we

saw no means of carrying the animal away with us. In its stead we begged

some milk, though in vain. It was joyful news to us, to learn that some

Schaigies had arrived at the wells near, belonging to the village of

Sheik Mussa, Mohammed Din’s nephew, under the command of their Melek

Mammud, and in company with Mohammed Din himself; and immediately, in

spite of sun and heat, we were on our way to their camping place, some

300 yards from us. This settlement of Mitkenab is in every way perfectly

alike to El Soffrè, both as to huts and inhabitants; the latter are also

numerous, and their lands lie towards the S.E. The village is large, the

huts many and running along the edges of the forest, but it seemed

smaller than El Soffrè. Of its political importance nothing can be said,

for here, as in all Taka, as well as neighbouring, nay, even distant

lands, there is but one Mohammed Din, who is lord of all, and his word

an oracle for and to all. It is true, the Haddenda, like all the tribes,

have Sheiks of their own, but all are subordinate to this great Sheik

Mohammed Din. In Mitkenab were many Sheiks, having equal authority to

each other: among the Hallenga, the head Sheik is Mohammed Ele, who

bears the character of a bold warrior and honest man.

African wanderings · 第 8 / 25 段