THE HASSANIYEH ARABS.
We leave the Islands of the Shillooks—Tropical Jungles—A Whim
and its Consequences—Lairs of Wild Beasts—Arrival among the
Hassaniyehs—A Village—The Woman and the Sultan—A Dance of
Salutation—My Arab Sailor—A Swarthy Cleopatra—Salutation of the
Saint—Miraculous Fishing—Night View of a Hassaniyeh Village—Wad
Shèllayeh—A Shekh’s Residence—An Ebony Cherub—The Cook Attempts
Suicide—Evening Landscape—The Natives and their Cattle—A Boyish
Governor—We reach Khartoum at Midnight.
After we parted from the Shillooks the men rowed lustily, and, taking
to the western side of the river, soon put an island between us and
the village. It was about two o’clock when we left, and the wind fell
sufficiently before night to allow them to make considerable progress. We
swept along, under the lee of the islands, brushing the starry showers
of yellow blossoms that trailed in the water, and frightening the ibises
and herons from their coverts among the reeds. The hippopotami snorted
all around us, and we had always a convoy of them following in our wake.
The sun sank, and a moon, four days old, lighted the solitude of the
islands, but the men still rowed vigorously, until we had passed the
spot where the Shillooks buried their canoes in the morning. They then
deemed it safe to come to anchor in the middle of the stream, though the
watch-fires of the savages were still blazing brightly in the distance.
During the night the wind blew violently, and the river was rough and
agitated. We all went to sleep, therefore, feeling certain that no
predatory canoes would venture to follow us.
In the morning there was a strong head-wind, and the temperature was
so cold that I was obliged to wear my thick capote of camel’s hair
while I sat on deck, looking regretfully at the beautiful islands I was
leaving behind me. Achmet heated and strained the honey given me by the
Shillooks, which yielded between three and four quarts of rich liquid.
While the men made fast to the bank for breakfast, I went on shore to get
a glimpse of the country behind the forests. Paths trodden by wild beasts
led through the walls of tangled vines that elsewhere were impenetrable,
and I crept along them, under the boughs of strange trees and through
thickets of luxuriant shrubs. At length I reached an open patch of grass
four or five feet in height, and so dry and yellow that it snapped like
glass under my feet. It was dotted with clumps of high shrubs, knotted
all over with wild, flowering vines, which formed admirable lairs for the
lions and leopards. There was a strong smell of lions about the place,
and I deemed it prudent not to venture far, since the rank animal odor
peculiar to that beast grew more marked the further I went. The jungle
in which I stood covered a tongue of land inclosed between two coves of
the river, and through the openings in the thickets I saw that it led to
other open tracts further inland. The wind was blowing towards the river,
and as I stood in the midst, contemplating the wild, lawless grouping of
the different trees and shrubs some imp of darkness whispered in my ear
“What a magnificent conflagration this would make! and then, perhaps, you
might have the satisfaction of burning out a brace of lions!” Without
more ado, I whipped out a box of matches, and struck fire in one of the
thickest tufts.
The effect was instantaneous, and so was my repentance. There was a
crack and a crash, like the explosion of powder, and a sheet of red
flame leaped into the air. In a few seconds it had spread to a broad
swath of fire, rolling rapidly before the wind, and leaving the earth
behind it as bare as the palm of my hand. The rank grass roared and
snapped as the terrible power I had so thoughtlessly awakened, licked
it away; and not the grass alone. It seized on the vines and tore them
down, swung itself by them into the boughs of the trees, and found richer
aliment in their gums and juices. It spread on both sides and against
the wind, and soon the long spires of scarlet flame, twisting in the
air, rose high and hot above the dome-like tops of the mimosa forests.
Before we left the place, the volumes of smoke reached nearly to the
other side of the Nile. As I heard its relentless feet trampling down
the thickets, I tormented myself with pictures of the evil which I had
perhaps originated. I fancied it spreading from day to day, lapping the
woods in coils of flame and flinging their burning boughs from island to
island, till of all the glory of vegetation which had filled me with such
rapture, there was nothing but a few charred trunks standing in beds of
ashes. I saw the natives with their flocks and herds flying before it,
the wild beasts leaping into the flood for refuge from its red fangs, and
all that glorious region given up to terror and desolation. As we moved
slowly away, against the wind, I watched its progress with a troubled
conscience and an anxious heart. Now it paused and I flattered myself
that there was the end, but the next moment the black clouds rolled up
denser than ever. Thus it wavered for some time, but at last, thank God!
it seemed to fade gradually away, and I gave myself the hope that it had
not extended beyond the jut of land whereon it was kindled.
At noon we passed the locality marked on D’Arnaud’s map as El-Ais, but
there was no sign of habitation. The raïs said there had been a town some
distance inland, but it is now deserted. The river here makes a curve to
the west, and our small stern-sail was bound to the foremast, in order
to use the side-wind. My sailors were unremitting in their labors, and
rowed, poled and tracked the whole day. I sat in the sun all the while,
looking on the incomparable shores. We saw multitudes of gazelles along
the water’s edge, on both sides. They were in companies of forty or
fifty, and so little shy, that they often allowed us to approach within
fifty yards. Wild fowl were as abundant as ever, and I greatly regretted
having brought no rifle and fowling-piece. When we reached the northern
extremity of Hassaniyeh, at sunset, I went ashore on the eastern bank,
hoping to find a gazelle. The thickets were almost impenetrable, and
I made my way with difficulty into a more open space, where the trees
grew in clumps and the lion-paths had broken a way between them. Each of
these clumps was woven into a single mass with vines, forming coverts
of deepest shade, wherein a beast might crouch unobserved, even at
mid-day. The ground was covered with dry bur-grass, whose heads pierced
through my clothes. One of the sailors accompanied me with a club, but
was in such deadly fear of lions that he obliged me to return to the
shore. Certainly, this is the paradise of wild beasts. Such convenient
lairs they can find in no other part of the world, and the thousands of
gazelles and antelopes that range through the wilderness furnish them
with a choice bill of fare. The trees and vines were nearly all new to
me. I noticed in particular, a succulent vine, resembling the cactus and
cereus families, but with square, fluted joints. It grew so thickly as
frequently to conceal entirely the tree that supported it. I also saw a
shrub with leaves like the ivy, but a large, purple, bell-shaped flower,
and another with delicate, fern-like leaves of a dark-green color, and
white, fragrant blossoms. There was a greater variety in the vegetable
world than I had yet seen. What must be the splendor of the land during
the rainy season! I found a peculiar fascination in tracing the wild
paths through the thickets. It was a labyrinth to which there was no
end, and the sense of danger gave a spice to its richness and novelty.
Occasionally, I saw large holes in the ground, which my attendant said
were those of serpents. No gazelle was to be seen, and when I reached the
shore again, the wild geese had left. The wind fell at sunset, and the
sailors rowed cheerily down stream, singing the while a barbaric chorus,
which they had learned from the slaves brought from Fazogl.
The sun, next morning, showed us a very different landscape from that
of the previous two days. The river was broader, but the shores were
clothed with a more scanty vegetation, and the few islands in the stream
were but beds of sand. When the men stopped for breakfast we were in
the neighborhood of a village of Hassaniyehs, as I had previously
conjectured, from the camels and donkeys grazing among the thorns.
Leaving the sailors to kill one of our sheep, I took Achmet and the raïs,
and followed the paths inland through a wood of scattering mimosas. After
a walk of ten minutes we came to the village, or rather encampment, since
the dwellings were mere tents of sticks and reeds. They were barely
large enough to cover the two or three angarebs, which served as a bed
for the whole family. Although the sun was an hour high, not more than
half the inhabitants were stirring. The others, men and women, thrust
their heads from under their dirty cotton mantles and looked at us with
astonishment not unmixed with fear. The women who had already risen sat
on the ground kindling the fires, or spinning with a rude distaff the raw
cotton which these people cultivate. We found two or three men, whom we
saluted with the usual “Peace be with you!” and the raïs informed them
that the Sultan’s son, returning from a visit to the Shillooks, with
whom he had made a treaty of peace, had come to see them. Thereupon one
of them brought an angareb and set it in the shade for me, while another
caught a she-goat that was browsing among the bushes, and soon returned
with a gourd half full of warm milk, which he gave me. As sour milk is
considered a great delicacy among these people, a gourd of it was also
procured for me. The woman who brought it knelt and placed it at my
feet, but as I could not drink it and did not wish to refuse their gift,
I asked one of the men to take it to the boat. He hesitated, evidently
afraid to trust himself with us, whereupon the woman said: “I am not
afraid to go with the Sultan; I will take it.” As we started to return,
the man, whose sense of bravery, and perhaps his jealousy also, was
touched by this remark, came likewise and accompanied us to the river.
When we reached the vessel I sent the milk on board for the sailors use,
and gave the woman two piastres in copper money and a handful of tobacco.
She immediately put her hand to her mouth and uttered a piercing,
prolonged cry, which the raïs said was intended as an expression of great
joy. After repeating this two or three times she dropped on her knees,
and before I could divine her intention, kissed my red slipper.
In a short time I received word that the women of the village would come
to perform a dance of welcome and salutation, if I would allow them. As
the wind was blowing strongly against us and the sailors had not finished
skinning the sheep, I had my carpet spread on the sand in the shade of
a group of mimosas, and awaited their arrival. Presently we heard a
sound of shrill singing and the clapping of hands in measured beat, and
discerned the procession advancing slowly through the trees. They came
two by two, nearly thirty in all, singing a shrill, piercing chorus,
which sounded more like lamentation than greeting. When they had arrived
in front of me, they ranged themselves into a semicircle with their faces
towards me, and, still clapping their hands to mark the rhythm of the
song, she who stood in the centre stepped forth, with her breast heaved
almost to a level with her face, which was thrown back, and advanced with
a slow, undulating motion till she had reached the edge of my carpet.
Then, with a quick jerk, she reversed the curve of her body, throwing her
head forward and downward, so that the multitude of her long twists of
black hair, shining with butter, brushed my cap. This was intended as a
salutation and sign of welcome. I bowed my head at the same time, and she
went back to her place in the ranks. After a pause the chorus was resumed
and another advanced, and so in succession, till all had saluted me, a
ceremony which occupied an hour. They were nearly all young, between the
ages of fourteen and twenty, and some were strikingly beautiful. They had
the dark-olive Arab complexion, with regular features, teeth of pearly
whiteness, and black, brilliant eyes. The coarse cotton robe thrown over
one shoulder left free the arms, neck and breasts, which were exquisitely
moulded. Their bare feet and ankles were as slender as those of the Venus
of Cleomenes. Owing to the skirts worn by the American women I have no
recollection of ever having seen an entire foot belonging to them, and
therefore can make no comparison; but I doubt if one in a thousand stands
on so light and beautiful a pedestal as those wild African girls. There
were two or three old women in the company, but they contented themselves
with singing and did not venture into the lists with the younger ones.
Several of the men, who had followed in the rear of the women, came
and sat near us, on the sand. They were all evidently delighted with
the occasion, and encouraged the more timid of the dancers by their
words. One of them was an old man, with a long gray moustache and beard,
carrying in his hand a spear, pointed with iron. My raïs and sailors were
on the ground, and one of the latter, a splendid fellow, whose form was
almost perfect in its manly strength, took his station among the women
and acted as master of the ceremonies. He drew a line in the sand down
the centre of the ring, and another along the edge of my carpet, and she
who did not dance down the line until the final toss of her head threw
her hair over the Sultan’s cap, was obliged to perform her part over
again. My sailor clapped his hands, joined in the song, and moved with
such entire and absolute grace in the dance, that he almost drew away my
attention from the women. He was of the Djaaleyn tribe, and therefore of
pure Arabian blood. As the ceremony was prolonged, they accompanied the
dance with a hard, guttural breathing, in time with the music, and some
of the old women, in their anxiety to encourage the younger and more
timid dancers, leaned forward with eager eyes, uttering short, quick
screams at intervals. It was a most remarkable scene; the figures and
the dancers were unlike any thing I ever witnessed. For the first time,
in fact—perhaps because I had hitherto seen few women unveiled—I found
undoubted beauty in the Arab female countenance.
The last dancer was the wife of the Shekh, who came towards the close,
with two negro slaves behind her. She was a woman of twenty, and the
most beautiful of the group. Making allowance for the difference in
complexion, she had a strong resemblance to the Cleopatra of Guido. Her
eyes were large, black and lustrous; her face the full, ripe oval of the
South, with a broad, round forehead, perfect lips and a most queenly
neck and chin. She wore a diadem of white beads, under which her thick
hair—unfortunately plastered with butter—hung to her shoulders in at
least fifty slender braids. She went through the monotonous movement of
the dance with the stately ease of a swan gliding down a stream, and so
delighted my sailors and the men who had come down from the village, that
she was obliged to repeat her salutation several times. I bowed lower to
her than to the others, but took care to keep her unctuous braids from
touching my face. When all was concluded, I directed Achmet to distribute
a few handfuls of copper money among them, whereupon they returned to
the village, uttering sharp yells of joy as they went. After they had
left, I asked the men whether what I had heard in Khartoum, concerning
the peculiar conjugal customs of the tribe, was true, and they replied
that it was.
As we were about leaving, one of the shekhs, or holy men of the tribe,
came down to greet me. He was an old man in a blue cotton mantle, and had
with him two attendants. After touching my hand twice and asking many
times for my health, he commenced singing passages of the Koran, in a
loud, resonant, and not unmusical tone, somewhat resembling the sunset
cry of the muezzin from his minaret. The two others responded, and thus
this religious entertainment was kept up for some time. But the raïs was
at his post and the wind had fallen, so I acted my despotic character of
Sultan, by leaving the holy man in the midst of his chanting and going on
board. When we left he was still standing under the mimosas, singing of
Mohammed, the Prophet of God.
We made but little headway during the afternoon, although the men worked
faithfully. Djebel Deyoos, whose loose cluster of peaks is seen for a
great distance over the plains of Kordofan, still kept us company, and
did not pass out of our horizon until the next evening. The men towed for
several hours, and as the shore was flat and the river very shallow they
were obliged to walk in the water. While Achmet was preparing dinner, a
fish about the size of a herring vaulted upon deck and fell at his feet.
He immediately clapped it into the frying-pan and presented me with an
acceptable dish. To his unbounded astonishment and my great satisfaction,
the same thing happened three days in succession, at precisely the same
hour. “Wallah, master!” he exclaimed: “it is wonderful! I never knew
such a thing to happen in Egypt, and it must certainly be a sign of
good fortune. If you were not a lucky man, the fish would never offer
themselves for your dinner in this way.”
By night the men could make no headway against the wind, which continued
unabated nearly all the next day. They worked hard, stimulated by the
promise of an abundant supply of mareesa at the next Hassaniyeh village.
In the afternoon we passed Tura, which I recognized by the herds of
camels on shore and the ferry-boats passing back and forth across the
broad stream. I walked an hour or two while the men were towing, but was
obliged to keep to the shore, on account of the burr-grass which covered
all the country inland. This part of the river is thickly settled by the
Hassaniyehs, whose principal wealth appears to consist in their sheep,
goats and camels. They complained very much of the Shillooks, who come
down the river on predatory incursions, carry off their sheep and dourra,
and frequently kill the children who tend the herds.
By dint of unremitting exertions, we reached a small village which the
raïs called Wad Shèllayeh, about two hours after sunset. The men carried
me ashore through the shallows, and I went with them to the village to
perform my promise regarding the mareesa. We extinguished the lantern
for fear of alarming the inhabitants, and walked slowly through the
wilderness of thorns. The village lay half a mile inland, between two
low hills of sand. The dwellings were mere tokuls, like those of the
Shillooks, and made of the long grass of the Desert. Each house was
surrounded with a fence of thorns. The inhabitants were sitting at the
doors in the moonlight, calling out to each other and exchanging jokes,
while herds of the slender yellow dogs of Soudân barked on all sides.
While the raïs and sailors were procuring their mareesa I entered one
of the tokuls, which was superior to those I had already seen, inasmuch
as it contained an inner chamber or tent, made of fine yellow grass,
and serving as a canopy to the family angareb. The people had kindled a
fire on the ground, and the dry mimosa branches were blazing in close
proximity to the straw walls of their dwelling. They were greatly
inferior to the Hassaniyehs of the first village, both in appearance and
courtesy of manners. The mareesa, which the raïs at last brought, was
weak, insipid stuff, and I returned to the boat, leaving the men to drain
the jars.
In the morning we reached another large Hassaniyeh village, which was
also called Wad Shèllayeh. It was the only village on the river worthy
of notice, as it had four vessels moored to the shore, and boasted a few
mud houses in addition to its array of tokuls. Several of the latter
were built in tent form and covered with a striped cloth made of camel’s
hair. I entered the residence of the shekh, who, however, was absent with
his wife to attend the funeral of a relative. The tent was thirty feet
long, with an arched top, and contained two inner chambers. The sides
were ornamented with gourds, skins and other articles, grouped with some
taste, and large quantities of the _cowries_, or small white shells,
which are used as currency in some parts of Central Africa, were sewed
upon the cloth cover, in the form of crosses and stars. I looked into the
principal chamber, which inclosed a broad and handsome angareb, made of
plaited palm-leaves. The walls were entirely concealed by the articles
hung upon them, and every thing exhibited a taste and neatness which is
rare among the Arab tribes. The tent was in charge of the shekh’s niece,
a handsome girl of about eighteen, and an old woman with three children,
the youngest of which was suckled by a black slave. He was an ebony Cupid
of a year old, rejoicing in the bunches of white shells that hung from
his neck, wrists and ankles. He exhibited a curiosity to touch me, and I
took him in my arms and addressed him in Christian nursery tongue. The
sound of my voice, however, was more horrible than the color of my skin.
He set up a yell and kicked out his little black, satin-skinned legs till
I was obliged to hand him over to the slave nurse.
From the bank on which the village is built, I could see beyond the
trees of the opposite shore, a wide stretch of the plains of Kordofan—a
level savanna of yellow grass, extending without a break to the horizon.
During the afternoon, while the men were resting from their rowing,
Bahr, the Dinka cook, got into a dispute with one of them, and finally
worked herself into such a rage that she jumped overboard with the
intention of drowning herself, and would have done so, had not one of the
sailors plunged after her and hauled her ashore, in spite of her violent
struggles and endeavors to thrust her head under water. When she found
she could not indulge in this recreation, she sat down on the ground,
burst into a paroxysm of angry tears, and in a quarter of an hour went
back to grind her dourra, in the best possible humor. Her name, Bahr,
signifies “the sea,” but she was an Undine of the Black Sea, and the
White Nile refused to receive her.
We went gloriously down stream that evening, with a light west wind
filling the little sail and the men at their oars, singing shrill
choruses in the Dongolese and Djaaleyn dialects. The White Nile, which
is here three miles broad, was as smooth as glass, and glimmered far and
bright under the moon. The shores were still, in all their dead level
expanse, and had it not been for the uneven line which their belts of
thorn-trees drew along the horizon, I could have imagined that we were
floating in mid-ocean. While the men halted for breakfast the next
morning, I landed and walked ahead, hoping to shoot a wild duck with my
pistol. Notwithstanding there were hundreds along the shore, I found
it impossible to get within shooting distance, as they invariably made
into the river on my approach. An attempt to gain something by running
suddenly towards them, terminated in my sticking fast in the mud and
losing my red slippers. I then crept through the scattering wood of
mimosas to get a chance at a pigeon, but some spirit of mistrust had
taken possession of the birds, and as long as I had a shot left there
were none within reach. When my two barrels were spent they sat on every
side in the most familiar proximity.
Notwithstanding there were very few villages on the river’s bank,
the country was thickly inhabited. The people prefer building their
dwellings a mile inland, and going to the river for water. This custom
probably originated in their fear of the Shillooks, which led them to
place their dwellings in situations most easy of defence. At one of
the fording-places I found a number of women and children filling the
water-skins and lifting them upon the backs of donkeys. Many hundreds
of the hump-backed cattle, peculiar to the country, were collected
along the shore. They have straight backs behind the hump, (which is a
projection above the shoulders, four to six inches high) clean flanks,
large, powerful necks, and short, straight horns. They eyed me with
an expression of great curiosity, and some of the bulls evidently
deliberated whether they should attack me. The people in this region were
Hassaniyehs, and the men resembled those of the first village I visited.
They were tall, with straight features and a feminine expression of
countenance, which was probably caused by their wearing their hair parted
in the middle, plaited into long braids and fastened at the back of the
head.
About noon we came in sight of Djebel Tinneh, which stands over against
the village of Shekh Moussa, and serves as a landmark to the place. At
sunset we saw the boat of Reschid Kashif, the Governor of the tributary
territories of the White Nile, anchored near the western bank. Two of
my sailors had previously been employed by him, and as they had not
received all their wages, they asked permission to cross the river and
apply for the money. This Reschid Kashif was a boy of twelve or thirteen
years of age, son of the former Governor, Suleyman Kashif, who was so
much esteemed by the tribes on the river that after his death the Pasha
invested his young child with the office. The latter was also quite
popular with the natives, who attributed to him a sagacity marvellous
for his years. He paid the men the money due them, sent his compliments
to me, and inquired why I did not visit him. It was dusk by this time,
and I did not wish to delay the boat; besides, as I was a stranger and a
Sultan, courtesy required that he should pay the first visit.
We made the remainder of the voyage without further incident than that of
slaughtering one of our sheep, near Djebel Aūllee. The wind was so light
that our progress down the stream was rapid, and at sunset on Friday,
January thirtieth, I recognized the spot where Dr. Reitz took leave of
me, on the upward voyage. The evening on the broad river was glorious;
the half-moon, being just overhead, was unseen, yet filled the air with
light, and my natal planet burned white and clear in the west. At ten
o’clock we reached the island of Omdurman, and wheeled into the Blue
Nile. The camp-fires of Kordofan merchants were gleaming on the western
bank. The barking of the dogs in Khartoum and the creaking wheels of
the sakias were welcome sounds to our ears, as we slowly glided past
the gardens. Ere long, the minaret of the city glimmered faintly in the
moonlight and we recognized the buildings of the Catholic Mission. “God
is great!” said Achmet, devoutly; “since we have been so near the end of
the world, Khartoum appears to me as beautiful as Cairo.” It was nearly
midnight when we came to anchor, having made a voyage of about five
hundred miles in nine days. My friends were all abed, and I lay down for
the night in the little cabin of my boat, exclaiming, like Achmet: “God
is great!”