finding the sources even beyond the equator—appeared to me at the
beginning from the constitution and composition of our expedition,
to be doubtful. The vessels were to follow one another in two lines,
one led by Suliman Kashef, the other by Selim-Capitan; but already,
when sailing into the white stream, this order was no longer thought
of. Every one sailed as well as he could, and there was no trace
to be discovered of nautical skill, unity of movement, or of an
energetic direction of the whole. How will it be, when the spirits,
now so fresh, shall relax through the fatigues of the journey?—when
dangers which must infallibly occur shall arrive, and which only
are to be met by a bold will directed to a determined point?
However, these gloomy impressions could not last long; the scene
around was too picturesque, too peculiar, too exciting. On the left,
the flat extended land of Sennaar was gently clothed again with
copsewood and trees; and on its flooded borders rose strong and
vigorous Mimosas (sunt and harasch) out of the water, high above
the low bushes of Nebeck and Kitter. In the same manner the left
shore was wooded, from which we were at a tolerable distance, owing
to the north-east wind. Behind its girdle of copsewood and trees,
reaching just as far as the waves of the majestic stream in their
annual overflow give their fertilizing moisture to the soil, the
bare stony desert extends upwards, as it shews itself at Omdurman,
in profound and silent tranquillity. So much the more animated and
cheerful was it on the river.
The decks of the vessel, with their crowd of manifold figures, faces,
and coloured skins, from the Arabian Reïs who plies the oar, to
the ram which he thinks of eating as the Paschal Lamb; the towering
lateen sails, with the yard-arms, on which the long streamers,
adorned with the crescent and star, wave before the swollen sails;
the large crimson flags at the stern of the vessel, as they flutter
lightly and merrily through the ever-extending waters; the singing,
mutual hails and finding again, the ships cruizing to and from the
limit fixed for to-day;—everything was, at least for the moment,
a picture of cheerful, spiritual life. With a bold consciousness,
strengthened by the thought of many a danger happily overcome,
I looked beyond the inevitable occurrences of a threatening future
to a triumphant re-union with my brothers.
_Nov. 24th._—Our yesterday’s voyage was soon ended. We landed
on the right shore, about two hours’ distant from Khartùm,
near the tomb of Moha-Bey, overshadowed by two luxuriantly-growing
harash-trees. They stood in the water, though the year before, on
the 16th of November, they were far removed from it: thus giving
four feet and a half higher water, and affording me the consolation
of thinking that we shall penetrate further, although I perceive no
great haste in any one, for we might have gone on very comfortably,
and without any danger, the whole night. At sunset yesterday it was
22 degrees Reaumur (at our departure 25 degrees).[4] The appearance
of the scenery had hitherto not changed.
The left shore appears entirely flat, equal in height to the
water-line, to which the distance adds certainly something. Yet,
on the right shore, the river from the Shudder Moha-Bey, has thrown
out or deposited downs, which enter, in an undulating form, into
the deserted lake territory.
The Kalàklas (Arabs) dwell, from these two trees on the right shore,
in two Kabyles, under Sheikhs Bachit and Abugleff. The Hüsseïnudis
(whose Sheikh, Abu Bekr Wollet el Mek, shares with his father the
fame of valour, and of whom the Turks speak with respect,) extend
to the left shore, opposite to the Kalàklas; they pay, however,
Tulba, (tribute) as do all the Arab races of the White River, up to
the Shilluks.
We sailed to-day in the morning at sunrise, but soon halted again on
the right bank of the river, at the Arab tribe of Abdallah Ozerrs,
where we took in wood. Another unnecessary delay! This might have
been done yesterday. From the Abdallah Ozerrs we came to the Gulamabs
and Hussein-Abs (Ab, abbreviation of Arab). At noon we reached, with
a few deviations right and left from our course towards the south,
the rocky hill of Auli, which rises to the height of some two hundred
feet on the right shore, a day’s journey from Khartùm. From the
numerous fragments found in the vicinity, being a conglomeration
of chalk and limestone very much washed and brittle, this hill
evidently belongs to the limestone formation. The name is derived
probably from the Arabic _auel_; because this is the _first_ high
ground met with on the White Stream. It is also called Gare-Nebih,
from a Sheikh buried there, and from whom also, conformably to the
Arabic custom, the tribes dwelling there have taken their names.
Opposite to Gebel Auli, over the left side of the river, is
seen another and more extensive elevation, bearing the name of
Mandera. These rocky hills are of granite formation, and seem not
to exceed a height of three hundred feet above the level of the
stream. The word Mandera has here no more a Greek signification
than Auli, although it still means, in Káhira, the lower part
of the house, where the stables generally are to be found; in
which, certainly, its analogy with sheepfold and a monastery is
very close. But it here signifies a height upon which there is no
water. On the left bank of the river are two tribes, which live in
friendship and cultivate their durra fields in common. Higher up
are the Gemulies, and beyond these the Mohammedies, belonging to the
race of Gare Nebihs, whose Sheikh lies buried on the western plain,
and who here possess both shores.
The Gebel Mussa soon shewed itself on the left, two hours’ journey
from Gebel Mandera, also a hill of rocks (hornstone formation), which
has received its name from the holy Sheikh buried there. Therefore,
here also prevails the tasteless custom which in Europe has displaced
so many radical names of places in history, tradition, and popular
custom. The old name of this mountain is Brame; in which at present
I can see no meaning. Both of these tribes dwell on the right and
left shores; where likewise are found venerated graves of the family
of Sheikh Mussa, to whose progenitor Mount Mandera belongs. Their
present Sheikh is called Mussa Wollet Makbull,—a sensible, brave
man. Rapidity of the stream one sea-mile; depth four to five fathoms
and a half. Yesterday, when we sounded the stream, there was little
or no current, which in fact decreases with the depth. This morning,
at sunrise, it was seventeen degrees Reaumur; at noon thirty; and
in the evening, at sunset, still twenty-seven degrees in the shade,
at the open window.
_Nov. 25th._—We halted, yesterday afternoon, opposite the Hill of
Brame (Gebel Mussa), for it was the eve of the lesser Bairam feast,
and Suliman Kashef wished to shew himself there in all his glory. We
had now arrived at his piratical states, an extensive territory of
several days’ journey; which he, as Kashef of the first rank, has
acquired under the ægis of the Basha Ahmed! who had his peculiar
share therein. If he does not understand how to read or interrogate,
his administration, nevertheless, goes on excellently, according to
the Turkish manner. He knows how to receive a complaint or petition
with much grace, and with the other hand, to let the beads of his
sebha (rosary) glide through his fingers to keep time with his course
of ideas; to glance over the paper in appearance whilst he listens
to the bearer, and then to hand it with stately contempt to a Faki
to read to him. Really generous and social by nature, he loves to
have cheerful people, in pure pleasure and genuine joy, around him;
and appears to be beloved by this tribe whom he helps to oppress,
since he selects, like a Nimrod, the _élite_ for his predatory
expedition; but if the enterprise succeed, does not let them go away
empty-handed. As far as the Shilluka and Dinkus he is a dreaded guest,
full of warlike artifices, Circassian and Ethiopian κρυπτεις,
and of open fierce valour, and known only under the name of “Abu
Daoud,” which means “Chief David,” and seems to be an historical
name of the Ethiopian land; for it cannot be supposed to apply to
the King or Prophet David. The old Sheikh Mussa himself appeared
to pay his respects; and the Circassian was exceedingly glad to see
him continue so fresh and well,—at the same time he winked at me
to draw my attention to the flexible nature of the Arabs, when he
gave the Sheikh to understand, with the most unruffled countenance,
that he must procure an indefinite number of cattle and sheep for
the feast of Bairam. All the Arabs suddenly drew a long face.
I made use of the time to examine the country, to ascertain clearly
the lower formation of the valley of the White Stream. Here, also,
the river is partly dammed up by downs, on which there are single
groups of tokuls in the shade of Mimosas, the inhabitants of which
belong to the races of Arabs dwelling farther back, who form a kind
of line of defence towards the Stream, and amuse themselves with the
chase, especially that of the Nile buffalo. Behind these downs, washed
by the stream, is low ground covered with verdure, which alone would
prove that there had been an inundation, even if standing water were
not visible here and there, left by the river when it broke through
or swept away the deposited and accumulated downs, and spread itself
over the low country until it was sucked up by the sun. The valley,
besides the good grass already dried up, was covered with various
kinds of shrubs, with thorny nebek and kitter, with brandy clover
called loïd, with mimosas, harash, sant, salle, &c. In the midst
of these there are many paths formed in hastening to the water, by
which the deer and the herds, when pursued, immediately divide the
huntsmen, and lead into impenetrable thickets of thorns and creepers,
or to sloughs and swamps where danger threatens on all sides,
without their being able to render assistance to each other. The
humid spaces were covered with luxuriant aquatic plants; amongst
which was a Nymphæa with a reddish calix, like the convolvulus,
and large cordate leaves. This, to my great astonishment, was called
Loss, and reminded me of the old word, lotus, and is as prevalent
here as the white lotus (_Nelumbum speciosum_), at a later period,
the double flowers of which shine at a great distance through
its leaves, taking light and life from the other aquatic plants,
and covering the whole watery region like flat tumblers. The white
lotus, called Zitehb, might here, as it once did with the Egyptians,
serve as an emblem of the material world, from its abundance, like
the potatoes with us; its roots serving equally for food.
The stream had not long returned to its limits, as I soon convinced
myself, when, wandering to its brink, I saw to the south of this
embankment an expanse of water stretching far over the land, out
of which the tops of the taller trees peeped forth like verdant
islands. Beyond the inundation still older downs were visible, which
are no longer disturbed by water. These heights and hills connected
with each other in an extremely arbitrary manner, or lying scattered,
and partly forming a manifold circumvolution of the white stream,
are not perhaps remains of an old deposit from the river, but probably
the product of alluvial soil and earth thrown up. The river acquires
for itself, from its well-known fruitful qualities—the nature of
the place being favourable, by means of the plants floating towards
it—a green border, which mostly consists of bushes, whose roots,
matted together, resist the action of the stream. These bushes retain
the yearly deposited slime of the Nile, and continue to grow with the
ascending ground. So, likewise, the sand driven in when the water is
low, and the portion of earth thrown up by the violent squalls of
wind, remain behind protected by the bushes. When the water is at
its greatest possible height, this accumulation is chiefly covered
with its fertilizing layer of slime; whilst by the pressure of the
water and the particles forcing themselves upwards, it still becomes
higher. The sandy earth deposited by every wind, and the roots of
the bushes penetrating through the moist soil, increase the swell
of this formation of hills, by the fall of their leaves and wood,
as one may plainly see in the spheroid and parallel sites of the
shores of the downs, which have been partly destroyed.
In the interior beyond Mandera dwell the Kabbabish Arabs, a
widely-spread Nomad race, possessing large droves of camels and
horses, which they bring down from time to time to the shore to
drink, and to supply themselves with drinkable water. This is the
point of time at which Suliman Kashef is on the watch to extort
tribute from them.
The Baghara (cow herdsmen, from Bagh’r, a cow), a wide-spread
Arabian tribe, dwell further up the stream and possess the country
as far as Kordofan. Their name is collective for many Kabyles of
this Nomadic nation, who are to be considered as branches from
the very same root, although from necessary local circumstances
(in reference to pasture-ground), or from dispersions brought
about by dissensions, various names of places and chiefs must have
arisen gradually displacing the names of the original race (gios),
and recognizing no longer any patriarch or archezekes, or Great
Sheikh, but only the kindred (Kabyle), of their hereditary leader
or Sheikh. The latter we see in their peculiar origin in every
Arabian camp in the closer union of their relations, and in every
great Arabian village, where they live retired among themselves,
and frequently by means of a a seriba (enclosure) like families,
in the encampment of a people who are of one and the same blood.
The Mahass use the expression gebeirù for Kabyle, and this
corresponds with the signification of γένεα. On account of
this original connection by blood, no wars occur between them, the
boundaries of their pasture-grounds having continued undisturbed
among them since ancient times, and been recognized by other tribes,
though lying before them in small separate encampments. The Baghara
of the left shore are here all mounted, which enables them to make
daring incursions into the lands of the Shilluks and Jenugah, who
are not horsemen. The Baghara, on the contrary, of the right side
of the river in Sennaar, settle themselves very submissively with
their whole family to take care of cattle, entrust the charge of the
tents to the women and children, and exhibit to the spectators the
most strange groups when they move from one place to the other,
and kindled fire in the evening to cook by, in front of every
tent. Precisely because of their difficulty in moving, contributions
are levied on them by the Basha, and they are hostilely visited, on
which occasion the Funghs unite themselves to the Turks. The Baghara
are also forced to come to the shore for water and pasture, when
they are frequently waylaid, robbed, and plundered by the Shilluks,
who, however, only requite like for like.
I heard that the Shilluks, who dwell in these parts on the river
islands, and on both shores, but further up on the _left_ only,
display uncommon skill in their marauding expeditions. The Arabs say
they crawl upon all fours as swiftly as a snake; and rarely use force
to effect their robberies, but effect their purpose with incredible
cunning—a circumstance which agrees but ill with our preconceived
idea of the qualifications of a robber. In the East, however (we
will not speak generally of the Southern lands); and, indeed, among
the ancient Greeks, craft was considered equally worthy of a man
as open combat, if it led to the point aimed at. The Shilluks are
said also to be compelled to use artifice in this anterior part of
their territory; which has extended, according to the expression of
the Barabras, up to the _mouth of the White River_, because their
number has become very small by the advance of the Arab tribes,
with their horsemen clad in armour, and they could effect nothing by
open violence. Peculiar washed-up limestone conglomerates and porous
volcanic productions are here found on the shore, as well as a number
of small Conchylia; _Paludina bulimoides_, _Melania fasciolata_,
_Neritijachasa Jordani_, _Cyrene consobrina_, and a new species of
Physa, distinguished by a plait on the spire.
_Nov. 26th._—Before we left Sheikh Mussa, yesterday morning at
eleven o’clock, we had an uncommonly stirring and merry time of
it. The Rhamadan, fasting month, was luckily over, and the little
feast of Bairam, which follows it, was celebrated the more worthily,
because Sheikh Mussa had not remained deaf to the friendly persuasion
of Suliman, and had had oxen and sheep driven down quite early in
such quantities, that the eyes of the whole crew sparkled at seeing
them. In a trice the Kashef allotted their shares to the different
ships, and sent me also two capital wethers for the next day, the beef
here being generally tough and coarse, and even despised by the Turks.
This peculiarity of the meat depends on the nature of the fodder;
for the tender grass and herbs of our marsh-lands and pastures are
wanting here. And the climate exercises a considerable influence in
the hardening of animal texture, which the surgeon himself perceives
when operating on the human body. Our Arabs, who, like the Greeks
and Jews, born butchers and flayers, know no mercy for beasts or
men, fell upon the victims, hamstrung them, to obviate the chance of
any resumption of the gift; and the festive hecatomb fell—a sight
pitiful to behold. Every one tried, during the flaying and quartering,
to cut off a little piece or strip of meat, or stole it from the
back of the bearers. This little booty was stuck on skewers into the
glowing fires, which were still burning, and voraciously devoured,
in order to prepare the stomach for the approaching banquet. Although
they know how to roast the liver excellently, they preferred at this
moment to cut it up into a flat wooden dish (_gadda_), to pour the
gall of the slaughtered beast over it, strew it with salt and pepper,
and so to eat it raw. This tastes not a bit worse than a good raw
beefsteak. The ships were drawn up abreast, in order to lessen the
procession of the general salutation to the Bairam.
I found Selim-Capitan with Suliman Kashef: the former had thought
it well to do homage to the latter as his superior, by offering him
his congratulations. Suliman embraced me tenderly, right and left,
according to the Turkish custom; and so did every one in his turn,
till I began at last to take myself for a Turk, although I did
not even know the formula of salutation. Araki (brandy from Aràk,
perspiration, distillation) was handed round instead of the coffee
(_Kawoë_) usual at other times; and the servants had enough to
do to continue filling the small flagon, in spite of the extreme
narrowness of the spout through which the liquor had to pass into
the glasses. The Frenchmen also soon appeared in Turkish costume,
as we all were; their sabres by their sides, as also is usual at
every visit; and, moreover, with their marks of distinction on
their breasts. But, in spite of all the airs they tried to give
themselves, they were far surpassed by Suliman Kashef in personal
imposing dignity; so that no one, even if he did not know the
different relations in which they stood, could be in doubt who was
of the most importance here. His demeanour is quite simple, but yet
of that character that it restricts every pretension to its proper
limits; although Arnaud tried to speak like Mohammed Ali, as if he
had been his privy-counsellor, and wanted to prove to us that he was
a Marquis; whereupon he acquired there and then the name of “Le
Prince de la Lune,” in honour of his bald pate and his marquisate
in the mountains of the moon.
We set sail, with a faint breeze, at about eleven o’clock, with
twenty-nine degrees Reaumur, towards south. I remained with the
Frenchmen till noon. Thibaut was soon somewhat the worse for liquor,
and uttered all kinds of stale witticisms. Although he has sojourned
many years in these parts, he still remains while on his travels a
genuine Parisian, who, wherever he goes, never divests himself of
the Parisian atmosphere, and interests himself in nothing, properly
speaking, but the doings of that city. To-day his brain was haunted
with the Parisienne, which he was humming incessantly, although he
had not seen the revolution to which it owes its origin.
The two other gentlemen are a perfect contrast: Arnaud affecting
to be continually busy, without however producing anything, and
throwing out continual bitter taunts against his young colleague
Sabatier. The windows are covered with curtains: he does not venture
out of doors to make the necessary inquiries; but merely now and then
looks at the box-compass, although the vessels turn every moment,
and go first to the right, and then to the left shore. The compass,
therefore, affords no indication whatever of the course of the stream,
for the boundaries of its shore generally decrease from the height
of the water, and become undefined; and thus a correction of the
compass might possibly be made on the return voyage. Sabatier, on the
contrary, appears quite negligent and lazy, because he is not well,
and will not endure the arrogance of Arnaud; so that these gentlemen
engineers mutually accuse each other of ignorance. In other respects,
he seems to me a frank and open youth, who might be taken for an
American rather than for a Frenchman, from his having served in Texas.
I found the time hang heavy with these insipid men and the monotonous
scenery, and was not a little glad, when the uniformity of the
latter was broken by the luxuriant clump of trees on the island of
Assal. The island, which is not large, is said to derive its name
from honey (Assal), which is collected in great quantities from
the trees on it, as also on those of the islands succeeding. This
wild honey is blackish, and leaves in the mouth a bitter taste,
derived from the wood, mostly sunt. Honey from trees is generally
not so fine and palatable as that found in rocks; accordingly,
the honey from the Hejaz, nearly white, and almost crystalized, is
even preferable to the Grecian. Tree honey is said generally to have
something narcotic in it, but then it must be eaten by spoonfuls,
for I have not found it so. There is, indeed, a drink prepared from
it, which is certainly intoxicating. The blossoms of the mimosa,
blooming nearly throughout the whole year, afford the principal
resources of the bees, although there is no want of flowers, which,
in conjunction with the tanning-bark of the knot-holes, may contribute
to the narcotic qualities of the honey. Those nests, hanging loosely,
of a species of wasp, which give only a little honey, and are seen
in Taka, do not appear here.
The village of Thebidube is next seen on the right shore; it belongs
to the great race of the Hassaniës. I was surprised to observe, not
far from the village, ruins, clearly the remains of larger buildings
than Arabs huts. The place was called Mandjera or Docks, and I learned
that the former governor, Kurshid Basha, had founded these extremely
convenient docks, owing to the forest being near. They were, however,
abandoned by Ahmed Basha, in accordance with the favourite Turkish
system—because his predecessor was the founder.
Half an hour above, we lay-to at the village of Masgerag el
Tair. Masgerag is said to mean the same as “street;” the whole
word, therefore, is “Bird Street,”—but we did not see many
birds. Here the Sheikh Mohammed of Wadi Shileï came to greet us. The
Arabs of this place also call themselves Shileï, from a Sheikh buried
here, although they belong to the main stem of the Hassaniës. An
Arnaut of Suliman’s shot, in my presence, a hare whilst running;
the ball entered in behind, and passed out in front. The Turks
consider themselves the best shots in the world, as well as the best
riders:—although they can do little when the animal is running
and the bird on the wing, on account of their long and heavy guns.
Believe it or not, you may hear this boast every day, without being
able to convince them to the contrary.
_Nov. 27th._—Here, on the borders of the Arabian dominions,
we waited in vain for a courier from the Basha, fearing lest he
should have changed his intention with respect to the expedition. I
passed a very bad night. In the middle of the most profound sleep,
I was awakened by a fall in the cabin. My good Feïzulla Capitan, the
commander of my vessel, had tumbled on the ground from his tolerably
high place of rest opposite to me. I thought I heard the death-rattle,
and saw by the light of the lantern, that the froth was standing in
his mouth, which was firmly closed. The servant very coolly said
to me, “Mabegaff!” (don’t be afraid). It was the first time
that I had tried to open the hands of a person struck with epilepsy,
but upon my doing so, he soon came to himself, to the astonishment
of the crew; towards morning, however, he had two more fits. I now
learnt, not to my great consolation, that he had from youth upwards
suffered this affliction, and that it frequently returned. But my
night’s rest was disturbed, and I sat myself on my Bamber before
the door, where the sentry very quietly slept. When this fit came
on Feïzulla, I sprang to him, without any one else having troubled
themselves about him, because he was too good and indulgent to the
men. Hard drinking, together with the heat, had contributed perhaps,
chiefly to the violence of this attack.
The air was cool, compared with the heat of the day, and the profound
stillness of the night was very impressive, through the soft uniform
rippling of the water on the stern of our ships; but the snoring
of the crew, who were lying pell-mell, was insufferable. I had a
peculiar feeling of loneliness and abandonment, not lessened by the
reflection that I was on the White Nile,—this stream, the source and
course of which had appeared a riddle for centuries to all cultivated
nations. As a half-forgotten tradition descending to our days from
the infancy of the human race, impels us to explore the Nile, so
our expedition is, in the main, nothing but a continuation of the
endeavours of the Priests of the Nile, the Pharaohs, the Phœnicians,
the Greeks under the Ptolemies, and the Romans under Cæsar and
Nero. It is as if mankind in general, like a single individual, were
ever seeking anew, with unabated desire, the sources with which the
first awakening to intellectual consciousness is connected.
The sun rose to day magnificently behind the old high trees on the
brink of the river, when we sailed further to the south. I remarked
that the trees standing quite in the neighbourhood of the water or
in it, were mostly withered. These, therefore, had had too much of
a good thing, and soon died away through the sudden change, when
the water left them, although they surpassed in size the older trees
behind them. Passing by the village of Damas on the right shore, and
the three luxuriantly wooded islands (the most important of these is
called Tauowàt), where the vessels made, certainly, many windings,
without the course of the shores of the river being ascertained,
except that they had a southerly direction. We came towards noon to
the mountain group of Areskell, which elevates extremely picturesquely
its six or seven rocky peaks on the left shore, although at some
distance from it. At their foot lies the large village of Tura, up to
which the ships from Khartùm and Sennaar come, for from this place
two main roads lead to Kordofan. At two o’clock in the afternoon we
were for the first time, with a faint breeze, opposite the mountain,
and landed at the village of Masgerag Debasa. We sent our Sandal
across to Tura, which, because our fleet and Abu Daoud were dreaded,
brought us back wethers and butter. The village itself was not to
be seen; it lies, like most of the villages (of which, several in
this route are dissimilar, though nothing to signify), as concealed
as possible, and further inland on account of the inundation.
At sunset, the country presented a truly charming landscape. The
stream, which might have been here about an hour broad, glowed like
liquid gold, whilst the sun hid itself behind the Araskòll, and the
slender sickle of the moon shone clearer in the west, with Venus, in
the cloudless sky. The three islands of Genna, Siàl, and Schèbesha,
stood out, with their thick forests, from the tranquil water; and
on the other side the pointed peaks of the mountains grew dim in the
deep blue, over the dusky woody foreground of the left border of the
river, with the charms of an island in the Ægean Sea. Close to me,
the shore is enlivened by the coloured and black forms of the crew;
some play and wrestle, with songs to the sounds of the pot-drum,
(Tarabuka); others lie and squat round the fire, stir and cook by it;
others hunt, while some throw themselves into the stream, pursue each
other in swimming, dive, and run again to the fires, which, in the
increasing darkness, throw magical streaks of light on the water,
and repeat themselves in it, with the strange groups illuminated by
them. So long as the flesh-pots of Egypt, distributed among them by
Suliman Kashef, hold out, they are all of good cheer, and appear to
have no other wish than to spend the time agreeably according to
their own fashion; to play nonsensical pranks, and make jokes for
the amusement of the Turks, and when that is no longer practicable,
to return as quickly as possible. With respect to the real design of
our expedition, I see on _all_ sides, a negligence and indifference
which nearly make me mad. The latitude is 14° 5′.
_Nov. 28th_—The sun has risen an hour since.—At last the drum was
beaten to shew that our Jason, Suliman Kashef, was awake and permitted
Selim Capitan to set sail. We had left the two tree-islands, Genna
and Sial, on the right, and turned to the left shore. I now found
confirmed what I had already remarked—namely, that throughout
the left shore, there are not any heights or downs, as on the
right. Therefore the stream exercises a far greater dominion over
the former, as is plainly seen by the extensive wooded country being
inundated. The wide brink of the shore appears principally to lie
on the right side of the river, and generally above the level of
the left side, which circumstance, perhaps, might be accounted for
from the cutting down of the Ethiopian Highlands. We also remarked,
from the edge of the right shore being torn away, that a more fertile
soil has covered the lower earth, and that the stratum of land is
only upon the surface, whereon the downs lay. We found yesterday,
near the Island of Tauowàt, a shining black, sandy earth, which
Mr. Arnaud called mud: the naturalist, Thibaut, on the contrary,
declared it was ferruginous earth; it was, however, nothing else than
black volcanic sand. It was mixed with clay, and looked like the
laminæ of sifted iron dross; small black crystals formed nearly a
third of the component parts, (pyroxene and horne blende, according
to appearance). It seemed to have been brought here from the eastern
side by a gohr now filled up with mud, or by an old channel of
the river, and formed on the shore a layer of about a foot high,
above which again was the usual earth strongly alloyed with sand. I
had already seen on the right shore volcanic productions. It would
therefore be interesting to follow these traces with the gohr into
the interior, in order to explain these phenomena in Central Africa.
We quitted the before-mentioned Island of Schèbesha, on the left,
and arrived at ten o’clock on the Island of Gùbesha, nearly two
hours’ long. If the right shore has unprotected places where the
water enters deep into the trees, the inundation also extends so
far on the left shore, that the eye may follow over the plain the
glistening of the water through cavities and decayed wood. The Island
of Hassamë, also very woody, comes directly after Gùbesha, and
is soon succeeded by the Duème, which is covered with wood. These
islands, according to the eye, extend in a line from south to
north. About noon, we had the last-named island at our side, and,
for the first time, put into the left shore. Here Mustapha Bey had
established a Saghië (a water-wheel, for the purpose of irrigation);
and many things of the same kind, as well as a settlement, would have
followed, if the good man had not been poisoned. In the neighbourhood
of Khartùm, Ahmed Basha, fearing his influence with the population
would not permit the purchase of land, as the Bey declared to me
himself. He also related his campaigns, in which he reached the
“Gazelle River,” and a large lake, from whence the White River
issues, and which must be that lake the first expedition sailed
through. This is the _last_ place where we shall pass the night
ashore, for it behoves us to be secure from the natives. I did not
examine our landing-place till the sun was going down, because it
did not appear to me advisable to go to the chase with my huntsmen,
and to expose myself to the heat of 29 degrees.
The acclivities here extend far backwards into the country, and afford
a proportionate extensive survey. I ascended the nearest hill, and
was not a little surprised to find, in and upon the black earth,
a number of fragments of earthenware, and pieces of burnt brick,
as likewise decayed and consumed conchylia. I soon perceived also,
new graves, belonging to the small village near at hand, which
convinced me that I was standing in an old churchyard, to which the
new one joins, because the Moslems never bury another person in the
place where once a body has lain. The number of conchylia is easily
explained: it is the custom of the people to secure their graves in
this manner against wild beasts, which would otherwise root them
up; for they always cover them with broken white flints, which do
not exist here. This village is new, and was founded by a Faki, a
native of the country, who lived a long time in Hejàz, and by the
aid of Kurshid Basha, who wanted to make it a strong station. The
people, as well as their village, are called on that account Hejasi,
which I continually heard pronounced Ajazi; and took for a national
name—as the respected Burckhardt did the Ajazi, in Sennar,—until
the corrupted word was explained to me etymologically. Not a soul
came from the village to welcome us, and an embassy was sent just
as little on our side, to fetch a Don gratuit, or Viaticum, since
the pious devotees of this place are called, naas batalin (malignant
people), and therefore I was immediately recalled from my excursion.
Suliman Kashef was vexed at the non-appearance of the Faki, and
was of opinion that he was a devil (Afritt), who must however be
spared. Here, in the vicinity of Pagan nations, these Hejazi form a
kind of missionary establishment, at the head of which is the Faki
as the Sheikh, who, far from imitating the luxurious ostentation of
other missionaries in the East, has arrived at last by mortification
and eloquence at a self-consecration, and has gained a great number
of adherents, even in Darfur, where the Islam has been spread for
some time past. He has known also how to maintain his authority by a
judicious use of fire-arms; for his rabble of pilgrims are fanatical
and insolent. Their slaves, converted _per fas et nefas_, are the
most zealous adherents of the Koran, when they have once breathed
the air of Mecca, and return as free Hajjis, to their country,
though they have generally only learnt the usual prayer “Allah
Akbar,” with the short confession of faith, “La illah ul ullah
wa Mohammed Rassúl Alla” (there is no God but God, and Mohammed
is the prophet of God).
This formula is sung without intermission, in funeral ceremonies,
keeping time to the trot, rather than to the walk of the bearers
of the corpse. It is a formula which every traveller here should
remark; although I, for my part, have never made use of it, except
for a joke with my brother, when he or I lay sick in bed of a fever,
and desponding. As the apothecary Bartoli, in Khartùm, a year ago,
repeated directly before his death this formula, as a piece of wit
which happened to be his last words, the Muslíms, who were present,
wanted to carry him immediately to their churchyard, and to return
thanks to God for having enlightened him with the true belief.
Kurshid Basha ordered Saghiës to be built here, at his own cost,
for the Hejazi; but the scaffolding for them is only to be seen
now. I believe, from the various traces of earlier and extensive
agriculture, to which these heights owe indeed their irriguous
formation, that the fragments of bricks and the potsherds I had
just found, belonged to an earlier city, which had fallen to ruin,
or been destroyed, and which perhaps stood on the site of the old
churchyard. The hill, about thirty feet high, being so close to the
water, must have invited a settlement at a very early time. It is
clearly perceptible that the water by the river-side has carried away
a good deal of the hill. This may have been sufficient cause, for
the inhabitants of the city, to desert it entirely. It is true that
the soil is here also dark in its lower strata; but it is, however,
very strongly alloyed with sand, and has but little resemblance to
the greasy and slimy soil of Lower Egypt, and even to the shore of the
blue Nile. The process of fecundation in the inundations of the Nile,
consists indeed in the vegetable remains of the neighbouring forests,
and abundant marsh-plants, which have been washed away, settling and
depositing themselves afterwards as a humus, when they have been
amalgamated by continual rotation with particles of clay and sand
from the dark yellow Nile water, till they become a liquid pap. On
the shores of the White Stream the woods are too near, and therefore
their fallen leaves are carried away before the vegetable process can
have properly taken place. For this reason I account for the fertility
being so much less in proportion. After all, I believe that the Blue
river is the real parent of Egyptian fertility, and that there was
more; before the Dam, thrown up by it on the right ride, prevented
it from carrying away also the leaves from the eastern forests. The
Atbara and the smaller influxes of the right shore of the blue Nile
above, still remain perfect canals of fecundity; and it is plainly
seen by their darker colour that they separate at high-water.
Our Frenchmen, this afternoon, set about calculations with a great
air of importance, although they did not appear to be well. Sebatier
has had an attack of siriasis, and Arnaud has also lost much of his
pathos. I hear with astonishment that the calculations made hitherto
by these gentlemen, are said to agree to a hair’s breadth with those
made by Selim Capitan in the preceding year. Strange! But I don’t
believe in such an exact coincidence. It is much more probable that
the Turk, being a naval officer, has far more experience than the
all-knowing Frenchmen; and that the latter, being well aware of it,
adopted their predecessors’ calculations without any scruple.
Selim Capitan laughed when he yesterday instructed Arnaud in handling
the instruments. Thibaut remarked this as well as myself; and it
perfectly corresponds with the expressions of Sabatier, who calls his
colleague an ignoramus, because he abandons to him the calculations
he does not know how to make himself.
At a distance of twelve hours’ journey from the before-named
Hill of potsherds, near the village of Hejazi, is seen, towards
the south-west, a considerable mountain. It is called Bihtsh; which
name is found also in the islands of Philæ. I could not find any
such word in the language by which I could judge of the analogy
of the two mountains. The Gebel Bihtsh is said to contain silver;
and at Masgerag Tain it is asserted that silver has been found up
the country, from whence came the present, which the Sheikh of Wadi
Shileï in that country brought to Suliman Kashef. This present was a
stick, curved at the top, some two feet longer than the one in common
use from Korosko hither; and though only of the thickness of a finger,
was called Hassaie,—an expression which is used besides for a heavy
club. This pastoral sceptre was very prettily overlaid with silver,
and the ornaments on it merely engraved with a bad knife; and,
considering such a wretched instrument, they were of marvellous
fineness. In Sennaar, as well as in Kordofan, they know how to
wire-draw gold and silver; to make remarkably beautiful zerfs (the
inlaid stands of coffee cups), and sword-handles from these metals,
displaying good taste; although, particularly in the last-mentioned
articles, where crowns as the head-top, and the form of the cross,
are engraved on the handle, the whole representing a knight’s
sword, called Sefbanbrah; the West and the Crusades have afforded
them models.
CHAPTER IV.
MONOTONOUS SCENERY. — CULTIVATION OF DATE-PALMS. — EL AES. —
BOUNDARY OF THE TURKISH DOMINIONS. — REPUBLIC OF APES. — HUSSEÏN
AGU’S FAVOURITE MONKEY. — CRUELTY OF EMIR BEY. — ADVENTURE
WITH A CROCODILE. — BELIEF OF THE TURKS IN THE TRANSMIGRATION
OF SOULS. — LIEUT. ABD. ELLIAB, THE DEVOTEE. — THE TAILORING
PROPENSITIES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — A “FANTASIE”. —
FEÏZULLA’S INTEMPERANCE. — GUINEA-FOWLS. — ABU SEID. —
DESCRIPTION OF WATER PLANTS, AND GRAPES PECULIAR TO THE WHITE
NILE. — THE AMBUK-TREE. — GEBL DINKU. — ABDURIECKMAN, CHIEF OF
THE SHILLUKS, AND SULIMAN KASHEF’S BARBARITY. — HIPPOPOTAMIA,
AND CURIOUS SUPERSTITION OF THE SAILORS. — THE DINKAS AND
THE SHILLUKS. — THE LOTUS. — MOUNT DEFAFAUNGH. — TAMARIND
TREES. — THE TAILOR-CAPTAIN, AND INSUBORDINATION OF HIS CREW. —
FIRST APPEARANCE OF GNATS.
Nov. 29th.—The fires were still blazing on the shore when the drum
was beat for decampment, and the sleepers lying around them were
partly obliged to be awaked with good blows in the ribs. To-day, for
the first time, we set out before sun-rise. Whether the expression I
uttered in a conversation with the two Turkish commandants,—“We
must make haste and gain honor from the Viceroy and Basha; for if
another expedition should appear necessary, he will certainly place
it under the supreme command of a ‘Frank,”—had any thing to do
with these unusual exertions, I venture not to decide. It is certain,
however, that they dreaded my Journal, for Ahmed Basha declared
that he would have it translated into Turkish. A brisk north wind
got up with the sun, and we sailed E.S.E., making five sea-miles
and a half in the hour, according to the log, which gives, however,
one mile for the current or rapidity of the river.
The channel to-day swarms with islands, so that we sailed by at least
eight before nine o’clock; when we had one on our left side three
hours’ long; others were probably concealed from us. It is really
fortunate that trees always indicate the presence of an island, else
we might have many times splendidly run a-ground, for the shallows are
only slightly covered with water; and the grass, shooting above the
surface, proves the frequent fluctuation of different channels. The
voyage is very monotonous; though the numerous shallow islands
are often grouped very picturesquely, and appear sometimes to bar
the river, and to dam it up into a lake. Added to that, we have
always the sight of a majestic stream, bordered by green osiers;
but the verdure itself offers no variety in the foliage and form of
the trees, no blending of colours, since it presents to the sight
only mimosas, which are here merely sunt-trees. There is no rock,
house, hill, or mountain here whereon the eye, wearied of monotony,
can rest, and which might serve as the halting point of imagination;
moreover, there is not a sound to be heard in nature. The gigantic
American streams can alone produce a similar impression. Although
the river in some places intrudes deeper than usual into the right
shore, yet the limits of the inundation are always sharply cut off,
whereas on the left side the water is seen continually between the
dark shaded trunks of the trees, where even the lowest branches do
not prevent it from running on in parallel gohrs, or deserted beds
of the stream, into other tracks of the river, glittering especially
at noon, when it is usually calm. Many of these, which now appear
to us to be islands, will, perhaps, when all the water returns,
join on uninterruptedly to the mainland. Two shots, the signal of
danger to one of the ships, fall behind us, and are repeated by us
and the other vessels. Thibaut’s vessel draws water; but the Turks
laugh at his anxiety, sail on, and say that he is drunk (sakràn).
Towards eleven o’clock the wood on the right shore opened, and
some tokuls were visible on the shore, at a little distance from the
river, on a line of hills running parallel with it, and standing near
those dome-palms we had hitherto missed, with the exception of the
young copse on the water’s edge. The cultivation of dates, which
might really be a blessing to the country, in Sennaar, as well as in
the extraordinarily fertile Taka, is entirely neglected, although
the gardens near the city of Sennaar, like those numerous gardens
in Khartùm, afford examples of a very advantageous transplanting
in these southern regions. They will doubtless give a refreshing
appearance to the latter melancholy-looking city by their rich
crowns of fruit, when they once rise over the clay walls and
houses surrounding it. But the people, that they may escape the
taxes imposed on every date-tree bearing fruit, will not plant and
take care of them; neither will they cultivate cotton, because they
are obliged to deliver the produce into the Shune at an arbitrary
price. Ahmed Basha had 6000 young date-palms brought up by water
from Sokkot and Mahass. The ground he chose in his caprice to form
a close plantation in, with these trees, lay too low (for he wanted
to save the expense of irrigation), and the Nile overflowing it,
uprooted and choked with its slime the fine young stems. No Turk
thought of washing the slime off and planting them again. The Basha
did not grieve at this abortive work, and was even of opinion that
the Nile had done well, for the lazy people of the island (Sennaar)
would never work again if they once had dates, as is the case in the
country of the Baràbras, who could never be good soldiers (askari).
We approached the place, and found only three people there standing
by their watched boats; and saw, far on the naked plain, men engaged
in driving their cows into the interior to secure them from us. The
miserable village, which may number some fifty decayed tokuls, was
called El Aes, although it is only a summer village for herdsmen
and fishermen belonging to the larger city of El Aes, lying up the
country. This city once gave the name of land of El Aes, or Dar el
Aes to the whole region up to Khartùm, now known under the name of
Wollet Medine, lying above Khartùm, on the Blue Nile. The city of
El Aes is one of the principal colonies of the Hassaniës, and was
at the time of the Funghs one of the three capitals of the kingdom;
the others were Sennaar and the now almost deserted Arbagi on the
Blue river. It is also a kind of emporium between the Shilluks and
Sennaar, wherein the traders of El Aes, by their slaves, barter
Kurbàshes (the whips commonly used here, made from the skin of the
hippopotamus), tamarinds, dried bamies, and Uèka, in exchange for
horned cattle, durra, and woollen stuffs. The Sheikh el Belled had
prudently departed for Khartùm, and could not therefore wait upon
us here with a contribution, to become our guide and interpreter
through the islands, as he did the preceding year, when Suliman
Kashef, without any ceremony, retained him on board ship with his
son. On this account we did not land; besides, we feared that our
men would desert.
Immediately above the village commences again the forest, and we
see by the many dry leaves scattered about that the consumption
of firewood, and consequently the accumulation of human beings,
cannot be very considerable. As there was nothing to be got we
did not remain long. Close to the left shore is an island nearly
three hours’ long, one of those fertile plains so numerous here,
six more of which we passed, though indeed of less size, up to three
o’clock in the afternoon. At this time we landed some two hours’
above the so-called El Aes, near the old and partly withered trees,
for the purpose of taking in wood for fuel. The ancient elevated
river’s edge, up to which the water can no longer rise, being
retained by the downs which are themselves washed up, is plainly
visible on the right shore, through the light places.
Now we are beyond the boundaries of the Turkish dominions;
that is, properly speaking, beyond the intricate and organized
Turco-Egyptian system of plunder. Henceforth, tribute (tulba) is no
longer collected. At my question, what people dwelt here, the Turks
answered regularly, like the Arabs, “Kulo Abit” (all slaves.) I
could not help laughing, and made them understand, to their vexation,
that these people are free, and not so much bondsmen and slaves as
they are themselves: that they must first take them prisoners to
make them slaves, for which they had no particular inclination, and
answered me very naïvely, “the slaves here are very numerous and
brave!” (shatter.) This contemptuous expression, “kulo abit,”
is used by the Ottomans, almost like the classical _barbari_—that
same classical word which the modern Greek has learnt by heart from
foreign schoolbooks with a good-natured orthodoxy.
The vessels not being able to reach the dry land, owing to the shrubs
and trees, I had myself carried through the water to the shore,
in order to take a survey of the country and to make a shooting
excursion. I could not, however, make up my mind to use my gun, the
only animals in the neighbourhood I could shoot being white-grey
long-tailed apes, called Abelènk, similar to the _Cercopithecus
Sabæus_, but more silver-grey and far larger. I had shot such an
one on a former occasion, and the mortally wounded animal had,
by his similarity to a human being and his piteous gestures,
excited my compassion so much, that I determined never to kill
another. Mr. Arnaud, on the contrary, took a peculiar pleasure in
watching the wounded monkeys which fell by his shot, because, in the
agonies of death, the roof of their mouths became white like that of
a dying man. It was affecting to see how the mother apes precipitated
themselves down from the old sunt trees and secured their young,
playing before our feet, behind the high branches, and darted round
the corner until another malignant ball reached them from behind,
whereupon they let their young fall from their arms, but the little
creatures clung firmly to the old one by running, climbing, and
springing under her belly. They live together in families of several
hundreds, and their territory is very limited even in the forest,
as I myself subsequently ascertained. Although they fear the water
very much, and do not swim voluntarily, yet they always fled for
security to the high branches hanging over the stream, and often
fell in, whereupon they, in spite of imminent danger, carefully
wiped their faces, and tried to get the water out of their ears
before they climbed up into the trees. Such a republic of apes is
really a droll sight,—coaxing, caressing, and combing each other,
plundering, fighting, and tugging one another by the ears, and,
during all these important concerns, hastening every moment down to
the river, where, however, they satisfy themselves with a hurried
draught, in order that they may not be devoured by the crocodiles
constantly keeping watch there. The monkeys on board our vessels not
being fastened, turned restless at the sight of the jolly free life,
and at the clamour of their brethren in the trees.
The Milàsim Auel (First Lieutenant), Hüsseïn Aga of Kurdistan,
lay alongside us, and had endless pleasure in his little monkey. He
shouted over to me, “_Shuf! el naùti taïb!_” (Look! the
clever sailor!) meaning his little favourite, who jumped about
the mast and the yard as though he were mad, ran down the ropes,
looked into the water from the side of the ship, and then strayed
from his master, till all of a sudden, he clung to the back of a
sailor who was carrying through the water a package of dirty linen
to the wash, and before the latter could lay hold of him made a bold
spring ashore, to greet his relations, for he also bears the name of
Abelènk, although of a much smaller species. He has been frequently
carried from Sennaar to Kàhira, where he is called Nishnash and
Capuchin. The long Kurd, just as he was, jumped overboard with his
gun to shoot the deserter, in favour of whom, I quickly called out,
“_Amahn_.” The little climbing sailor must however, from being
a Turkish slave, and on account of his diminutive figure, have met
with an unwelcome reception, for no sooner had Hüsseïn Aga stepped
under the trees, than the monkey again jumped on his head. He came
to visit me afterwards, and brought his “Naùti taïb” with him,
who ought to thank himself that I interceded for him. Hüsseïn told
me then, what I had often heard, that monkeys were formerly men,
who were cursed by God. It really is said in the Koran, that God and
the prophet David transformed into _monkeys_ the Jews who did not
keep holy the sabbath-day. On this account a good Moslem will seldom
injure or kill a monkey. Our Turks, however, were an exception to that
rule, when they could, by infringing it, gain a few base piastres;
so likewise was Emir Bey in Fàzogl, on another occasion.
The latter was sitting at table with an Italian, and just putting into
his mouth a piece of roast meat, held between the fingers and thumb,
when a monkey of the cynocephalus (Arabic Khirt) family snatched it
hastily from him. The Bey very quietly ordered the hand of Abu Dom
(so called from his reddish yellow colour, similar to the fruit of
the Doum-palm) to be cut off as that of a robber (Garami), which was
done on the spot. The poor monkey came immediately afterwards to his
cruel master, and shewed him, with the doleful accent peculiar to him,
the bleeding stump of his fore paw, whereupon the Bey ordered him to
be killed. The execution, however, was prevented by the Italian, who
begged him as a gift, for the purpose of healing him. I came, soon
afterwards, into possession of this foolish beast, who contributed
as much to the amusement so necessary to me on the return voyage to
Egypt, as the filial attentions of my freedman Hagar from mount Basa,
whom my brother had received as a present, and bequeathed to me. My
servants would not believe but that the monkey was a transformed Gabir
(caravan guide), because he always preceded us, and on the right road,
even in the desert; and availed himself of every stone and rock to
look about him, whereupon the birds of prey frequently drove him
under the camels to complain to me with his “Oehm, Oehm.” This
complaint he also uttered when he had been beaten, in my absence,
by the people, whose merissa he helped to drink, till he could not
move from the spot, and committed all sorts of misdemeanours.
I found on the shore large snail shells (Ampullaria ovata), and also
some river oysters (Ampulla tubulosa Caill), as well as a number of
fresh foot-prints of hippopotami, though we had not as yet seen any of
these animals. These river buffaloes must be of enormous size here,
to judge from the foot-marks which we made use of to place the large
household pots upon.
We had already, however, seen many crocodiles, which are but seldom
met with when the water is high and turbid, for they then, like the
hippopotami, inhabit sloughs, caused by the swelling of the Nile,
because fish are more plentiful there, whilst the graminivorus
hippopotami find their nourishment in the thriving marsh plants.
I myself came into very close contact with a crocodile, larger than
any I had ever yet seen, whilst both barrels of my gun were only
loaded with smallshot. The monkeys had amused me long enough. I
advanced, therefore, further up the shore, turned round a huge tree,
the right side of which, facing the water, was covered with thick
underwood: I soon, however, drew back behind it, for I here nearly
walked into the jaws, literally speaking, of a crocodile, as another
step would have brought me to the creek, which was quite filled
up by the monster, as he lay in front of me. I looked round for
my huntsman Sale, an active, good-tempered, but very inconsiderate
youth, who carried my rifle; but he was not to be seen. Yet I could
not help taking up another position behind the trees, which afforded
me protection, in order to fire a volley of shot at the odious beast,
whereupon it very quietly retreated into the stream.
When I subsequently reproached Sale, he answered me very naively that
I should not hunt so close to the shore, for that he had more than
once, whilst gazing at the birds and monkeys in the trees, on looking
down, seen the head of a crocodile close before him, glaring at him
like a ghost (Sheitàn, Satan); and which he dared not shoot lest he
should kill his own father. Of witches and sorcerers who transform
themselves and others into beasts, especially into crocodiles and
hippopotami, that even in their transformation, still bear the griefs
they received when human beings—how injured wives often wither up
their husbands’ stomachs, and place them on their backs by magic,
&c.—tales such as these we hear related as true, even by those
to whom these occurrences are said to have happened. The traces of
a belief in the transmigration of souls cannot well be mistaken,
although almost entirely obliterated by the Islam; but it is only
applied here to the degradation into beasts—such as serpents
and dogs.
When at a distance from the shore, it is as well to have a barrel
loaded with ball, there being in this region many lions whom we
hear roaring at night. One soon, however, becomes accustomed to
such dangers, nay, I might say that we are not only rash, but quite
foolhardy, in neglecting all precautions and means of preservation,
and, therefore, we have nothing to reproach the Arabs with in their
everlasting “Allah kerim” (God is merciful, the Dio é grande of
the whole of the Levant). To be burdened with guns and shot-pouches
is troublesome, owing to the heat; on this account we often sally
out without weapons, not intending to go far from the camp, when
suddenly, allured from one object to another, we find ourselves at
a long distance from it, and, consequently, helpless against danger.
Towards evening cartridges were served out, and muskets loaded, for
we are now, for the first time, in a hostile country! The powder-room
stood open, and the men with lighted pipes passed continually to and
fro unrestrained, over the open hatchway. Allah kerim! I seek to rouse
my captain from his indolence by drawing comparisons, every moment,
with the English sea-service,—I fall asleep myself whilst the
powder is being distributed, and waking early in the morning, find
the hatchway still open, and the sentinel, whose duty it was to give
an alarm as soon as the water increased in the hold, fast asleep,
with the pipe in his hand, and his musket in his lap. Feïzulla
Capitan begged me not to report the poor devil (el meszkin).
The upper strata of the ground here are sandy and but little fertile,
yet I sometimes sank so deep into water and the livid clay soil that
my red shoes stuck fast. Beyond the gently elevated margin of the
shore, the ground is flat and bare, with short grass and stunted
copsewood, among which the wood usually made for tobacco-pipe
tubes in Sennaar, with its light grey rind, oblong-shaped leaves
and truncated at the top, is particularly abundant, and very much
in request with the crew. The height of the water here was, owing
to the great breadth of the inundation, not near so much as further
downwards. In Khartùm, where the bed of the river on _both_ sides
is contracted by the sides of the shores, it must have been twice
as high at this time. The whole inclination of the ground in the
territory of the White Stream, sinks from E. to W. The Nile is
the best hydrometer for this observation, for I have frequently
remarked that the islands in the neighbourhood of the right shore
are generally less inundated than those on the left; therefore, in
the former, the greater elevation of the eastern bank still continues.
An observation also, which I made on the plains of Meroë, or
rather on the enormous plain between the Atbara and the Blue Stream,
contributes to strengthen this opinion of mine with respect to the
slope of the land from E. to W. It can be plainly remarked there
that the rain-water runs off westward, without paying any attention
to the direction of the current of the Nile, as its boundaries are
now defined by its mountains and high shores.
But now the question is: If my hypothesis of the inclination of these
parts from E. to W. is generally correct, what has induced the Nile
to take a course diverging from it?
I have only to answer to this, that Khartùm already lies considerably
lower than our present course; that further up the country, on
the left shore, considerable mountains rise towards the W.—for
example—those of Kordofàn, which, now at least, do not allow the
river to discharge itself from hence into the Libyan deserts. Indeed,
many contests and physical revolutions must have occurred before
the White Stream crept into its present channel, where it is nearly
stagnant, and which seems scarcely natural in so long a tract.
_Nov. 30th._—Towards morning we set out with a tolerably good
N.E. wind, and soon after sun-rise made four miles[5] an hour; at
six o’clock it was 18, and at noon 28 degrees Reaumur. We sailed
till eight o’clock, S.W., and passed by a small wooded island, the
grassy foreground of which was picturesquely garnished with trees. The
prospect on the stream was shut out from us by four islands, through
which we passed towards the south, and left them right and left at
our side. Among the trees standing in the water were large, white
aquatic flowers, visible even at a distance, which glistened forth
magnificently from a floating world of flowers, in the moist splendour
of the morning. It was the double white Lotus. The sunt-trees stand
in full bloom, and appear, in comparison with the others, to have
been of later growth, as they stand here still deep in the water.
We approached near the largest of the before-named islands, which is
an hour long, and I remarked that it is elevated towards the interior,
in the form of a shield; this is not the case with the others. They
are long and flat islands, pieces separated from the shore, existing
only as long as the wood on their level backs which restrains the
pressure of the waves. They are a proof of a yet uncultivated course
of the stream, in a deserted freshwater basin. The water still
struggles here against the aspiring vegetation. The trees are of
slender growth, but of young and fresh appearance; the moist element
promotes a rich, exuberant growth, and just as speedy a death, with
the usual tropical power of regeneration. In the interior, however,
much stronger trees are found. When we sail towards the south, we
leave this island on the left, and turn again south-west, where the
head (Ras) of a long island ends, and other islands, to the number
of seven, shutting out the back-ground from our view, spread here in
such a manner, that the stream appears like a regular Island-sound,
which can be better seen than described.
The land also to the right of the left shore presents a clearer view,
and beyond the downs, are seen the distant and scarcely elevated old
shores of the stream, which, however, judging from their whitish
colour, do not indicate fertility; and beyond which, indeed, only
isolated copsewood and solitary lank trees could find any subsistence,
as I remarked also yesterday on the right shore. I would much rather
see beech trees and oaks than these eternal mimosas. Oh, thou good
Fatherland! in a distant foreign country we first learn to appreciate
thee truly!
At twelve o’clock, a wooded island with a long green tail, appeared
on our left, and immediately afterwards another on the right, where
the wood stands deep in the water; whilst the islands of the right
shore almost always show lower vegetation. The landscape being
monotonous, I directed my attention more to the scenes on board,
and there surely I found variety enough.
Our lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, from Kurdistan, is a very pious
man—to our good fortune! for piety restrains him from wine and
dram-drinking. This temperance conduces to the tranquillity of
the crew, notwithstanding the predominant inclination of my good
Feizulla Capitan, who will never rest till he has exhausted my
stock of spirituous liquors, so necessary for an European in these
countries. Abd-Elliab says that he has not the Koràn in his head,
but in his heart; and is of opinion that we Christians have only
strayed from the right path, since the prophet Jesus (el Nebi Issa)
was created from God without a father, and that Mohammed understood
better this divine messenger (Ressùl) than we. He plays the part,
also, of a Hakim belèsh (a surgeon who cures gratis) by repeating
pious sentences whilst he ties knots in threads, and binds them round
the neck and hands of the patient; or, praying, and blessing wheat,
he sews it up in little bags as a talisman against fever and the
devil. The Captain, besides his master passion, the incentive to
which, to my great peace of mind, will be soon exhausted, has also
an extremely interesting minor inclination—tailoring and cobbling,
which he pretends to have learnt in England.
Our little black female slaves are right to ornament their noses
with rings, for without them, their flat noses would be lost in
their dark countenance. As usual, the wind almost ceases at noon. We
sailed south with a faint north-east breeze, and make scarcely one
mile. At half-past twelve we passed a long grass island on the left,
the upper part of which was covered with wood; whilst on the right,
another one still extends; and on the left, the high grass of a long
narrow back of an island rises up from the water. After we had passed
five such river meadows, on the right and left, we landed at four
o’clock on the right shore. We found ourselves on the island of
Aba, eight to nine hours’ long, and proportionably broad, although
I had not remarked the commencement of it.
Suliman Kashef was no sooner gone on shore than loud rejoicings,
mixed with the sound of citherns and drums, were heard from thence,
and I was sent for. Every festivity, whether it consists in public
shows, or in singing, dancing, and drinking, is called here also
by the word, usual in Egypt, “fantasie.” The proper expression,
however, is “faragh” (joy, pleasure). The former is also used to
denote a person who is proud and gives himself airs. Therefore the
Turkish “fantasie tshok, paraja jok,” means,—where there is much
conceit and no money. Such a Fantasie of the first description was
taking place on shore, whilst the servants of Suliman Kashef stood
round us, armed and fully equipped. Feïzulla-Capitan was obliged to
be carried by force on board his vessel, and it was fortunate that
he was able, even in this transport, to recognise me. He grasped at
sabre and pistol—I pulled him back: he stamped and cuffed around
him as if he were mad, till I clapped his head and heels together,
threw him on his bed, and held him fast till he had stormed himself
tired, as I would take no notice of his English exclamation—“the
devil!—stop a little!—look!” No one but myself dared to lay
a hand on him. At last he fell asleep, and the sailors called me,
among themselves, “Achù el Bennàht,” and praised my conduct,
being such as they had never witnessed before.
Yesterday, I gave occasion for drawing upon me the hatred of one of
the roughest of the Egyptian sailors, who was sitting with another at
the hand-mill, and repeatedly abusing his companion as a “Nazrani”
(Christian), until at last the whole crew looked and laughed into my
cabin, the captain not being on board at the time. At last I lost
my patience, sprang up, and dealt him a hard blow with my fist on
the nape of his neck. In his fanatical horror at being struck by
a Christian, he attempted to plunge immediately into the water,
and vowed revenge against me, as I heard from my servants.
Now, while Feïzulla Capitan lies senseless, I see from my bed this
long sailor leave the fore-part of the ship, and approach our cabin,
followed by the looks of the rest of the crew. From a fanatic who
might put his own construction on the friendly scene I had just had
with Feïzulla Capitan, and might use it in his own favour, I had
everything to expect. He paused, however, at the door, apologized
and thanked me, for not having reported him to his commander. He then
kissed my right hand, whilst, in my left, I held a pistol concealed
under the covering of the bed.
The Island of Aba does not appear to be entirely inundated, and
therefore, it is covered towards the interior with high grown
wood. It is said, that there are several lions here; I think I saw
one at a distance, but I did not pursue him. We saw large flocks of
guinea-fowls, called here Gedàt el Pharaùn (Pharaoh’s fowls), and
which provided us for some days with roast dainties. “Pharaùn”
is a word of abuse, but it must have been taken rather from the
Koràn than from tradition. I saw many foot-prints of Hippopotami in
the muddy roads, which extend from the East westerly to the river,
and were already dried up. The earth by that means was exceedingly
fertile. Doghen, a kind of corn, commonly used in Kordofan,—bamie,
a vegetable with pods, to be met with from hence up to Greece;—and
Malochië, a species of spinnage, grow wild here. The numerous birds
were very shy, which we attribute to our white dress and red caps.
_1st December._—Half an hour before sun rise, we left the Island
of Aba, and sailed E.S.E., and had a course of 2¼ miles; in the
lapse of an hour this island was on our left. At half past eight
o’clock, we had on our right an island, and on the left the
shore was bare,—a Steppe, with a few trees and copsewood. The
ground beyond and through the trees glimmered, equally bare and
waste, of a yellow colour. This eternal shifting of the islands,
and winding of the vessel, frequently perverts the look and the
prospect of the whole scenery. The Lotus,—the grass extending
itself over the water,—and the high reed grass, filled the space
between the trees. At nine o’clock S.S.W., we pass the Machada Abu
Seïd, before which we have a course of 4½ miles, and immediately
afterwards only 3 miles. At this place, where the stream, owing to
the rocks crossing from E. to W. forms an inconsiderable current,
the water is only 1½ to 2 fathoms deep, and when low, reaches only
up to the knee,—a circumstance which must be taken into account
for our return voyage. Machada Abu Seïd, is equivalent to “Ford
of Abu Seïd,” who, being the patron of navigators, is invoked on
the most trivial occasions, like Abd el Kader, by the Bedouins of
the desert. It is pretended that this same Abu Seïd crossed the
water with his large army, and subdued the people of this place;
many stories are also told of him, how he has assisted navigators
in their need.
Above this ford or reef, on which entire masses of the _Etheria
tubifera_ (Caill) have settled, we passed over the Machada el Ans,
which means “Goat’s Ford;” because, in the dry season of the
year, even goats can walk through here, when they are thrown by the
herdsmen into the water, from one rock to the other.
The lead gives four and a half fathoms between these two Machadas,
the log four miles and a half, and the river has one mile in
rapidity. Small grassy island tracts extend to the left side of the
Nile; and many more islands might, in this manner, continually rise
through the gradual alluvial deposits. The trees are generally of
the dwarf species; and there are only solitary higher ones, which
overtop the others, and have withstood the winds, by reason of the
soil being moistened continually by water. A number of scattered
water-plants form floating islands of large and small dimensions,
frequently presenting quite a surprizing appearance. At noon we
came so close to such an island, which had been held together by a
kind of water couch-grass, and was joined on to the shore, that we
tore off one entire portion of it, and set it moving like a little
aquatic world of the most diversified description of plants. The
base of this floating vegetable world was formed by the pale green
velvet-plant everywhere met with, and which spreads itself like the
auricula, has fibrous roots, and is intermixed with green reeds, but
appears to have no flowers. The stalk-like moss, spreading under the
water, with slender white suckers, like polypi, on the long streaks
beneath, was another principal ingredient in the formation of this
island. Then comes a kind of convolvulus, with lilac-coloured flowers,
with its seeds, like those of the convolvulus, in capsule-like knobs,
and leaves like those of buttercups.
The character of the whole of this island world acquires such a
blooming appearance here, that one believes oneself transported to a
gigantic park situated under water. Entire tracts are covered with
the blooming lotus. The trees, shrubs, and creepers, with their
manifold flowers, enjoy a freedom unknown in Europe, where every
plant is restricted to its fixed season. The life, buds, and bursting
into development of the different plants appear to be arbitrary, for
rain, water, and the height, depth, and quality of the soil have such
effect, that the very same species often display entirely different
stages of progression. From the tall dark mimosas, and other trees,
down to the waving reeds, and the spikes of the high grass shooting
out of the water, a vegetable life spreads with a freshness and
fulness bordering on the marvellous. The splendid leaf-like webs of
lianias form hills of flowers with garlands, and wave and shine afar
in various colours, like magnificent hanging tapestry.
[Illustration: MOUNT N’JEMATI, APRIL 13, 1841.]
It is a strangely beautiful sight to see these exuberant plants,
sparkling in various colours, keeping down the more sturdy
ones. However, on our voyage back, the scene had so altered, that
it was with difficulty we could persuade ourselves that here it was
so wonderfully beautiful before. Together with the various species
of convolvulus, the blooming ambak-tree contributed to enhance the
variety of flowers. The Arabs call it ambak, although they are only
acquainted with its dry light wood, which floats down to them. The
tree grows only in the river itself, or in a swamp, and when the water
recedes, dies away to the root. The rapidity of its growth surpasses
that of the rising of the Nile, and shoots up from ten to fifteen feet
above its highest water-mark. It rises in a conical form out of the
water, but decreases again towards the root, and is, in the middle,
as thick as a strong man’s arm. The wood is throughout of a spongy
nature, and can be called only fibrous pith: it is overlaid with a
dark green rind, which is also furnished with a rough brownish hue
and small imperceptible arcuated thorns. The branches fix themselves
on luxuriant soil, like the acacias with us, and towards the ends
are quite green and rough; the leaves are twinned like those of the
acacia; the foliage is full of sap and green like reeds. The yellow
bean-flower grows single, but in great profusion; it is an inch and
a half long and broad, and has ten stamina round the pistil.
The top of a mountain, of which, at the moment, I could learn no other
name than that of Geb’l Dinka, rose, about nine o’clock, to the
S.S.W. This was a welcome sight to me, as it seemed to promise, from
the distance, something more magnificent than the hills, or would-be
mountains, that had hitherto appeared in the horizon. We make four
miles and a half, and the rapidity of the stream still remains one
mile, although the water before this Machada seems to have no fall,
and only to be set in motion by the pressure from above. At two
o’clock we had on the left, towards the east, Geb’l Dinka, so
termed by navigators, but more correctly called Geb’l N’jemati,
which is said to denote a group of mountain tops. Two rocky ridges
especially project, and seem to belong to the granite formation.
The thermometer was, at sunrise, 18°, at noon, 26°, and from three
to five o’clock 28°, Reaumur. The flower island continues on the
right and left, and we have four miles course. The grass and reed
tract of islands appears on the left shore like pasture-ground, closed
by shady trees in the distant background. At six o’clock, sunrise,
we sailed past the mountain of the Dinkas, which I was glad I had
delineated before, for it presented here nothing picturesque. The
people of the Dinkas (sing. Dinkauï) were not to be seen, because
they had betaken themselves to the interior, to sow their fields
with durra and dòghen. These fields are said to lie in the Chaba;
and it seems probable to me that this forest is situated in a basin,
as in Taka, wherein the rain and effusion of mountain-streams must
be long retained, because otherwise the land would be too dry for
sowing; or the inundation of the Nile seizes those partially, on
old beds of the river, which have been dammed up on the lower side,
and would therefore be dried up if there were no effusion of water.
At some distance from us I was shewn tops of trees, which were
scarcely perceptible, marking the island of the late great Sheikh,
or Mek Abdurachman (Abd el Rahman), who was a chief of the Shilluks
(sing. Shilkaui), and a sworn enemy to the Arabian intruders. On the
former expedition, Suliman Kashef, who had made the acquaintance
of this dreaded chief, and had lost many men by his predatory
expeditions, wanted to convince himself whether he was really dead;
and, in the savageness of his heart, ordered the body to be dug up,
in order that he might convince himself of the fact. They were all
not a little rejoiced at finding the truth confirmed.
Darkness prevented us from distinguishing the complication of islands
which were still continuing. We lay to about eleven o’clock at
Ambak, an island towards the left shore; and the sails being clewed,
we make only two miles and a half in the hour, in order to wait for
the Sandal, which was behind-hand. Immediately close to or down by
these trees, we had four fathoms in depth; and yet they stood some
fifteen feet above the water, which extraordinary height they are
said to attain in one year, for they fall down and wither away when
the water recedes.
Towards evening, a hippopotamus bellowed from the reeds quite close
to us. An old sailor, partaking of the superstition which I have
already mentioned, bid him immediately “Salam aleikum” (peace
be with thee), but he answered not a word; whereupon a peculiar
silence reigned among the crew, who believe in a possible voluntary
or involuntary transformation into beasts by sorcery.
_2nd December._—We set sail before sunrise, towards S.S.W. The rocks
of N’jemati lie to the N.N.E. of us, and on the left a mountain
elevates itself to the S.S.E. at about six hours’ distance. We soon
made three miles and a quarter, and from eight o’clock four and a
quarter, and the breadth of the river was generally estimated at two
miles. Near the reed or marshy islands, a kind of meadow cat’s-tail
grass is prevalent, having a broad flat blade of bright green, in
the middle of which runs a white streak lengthways. This grass has
thick connecting tubes, from which the fibrous roots depend. The
stalk, which is the thickness of a thumb, rises, with knots, to
the height of four to five feet, and is surrounded with numerous
brown leaves, completely inclosing it. It has ears like wheat,
growing in a bunch to the number of five or six, containing grain,
which is eaten by the people. It might be called the low-reed, from
which the high-reed is distinguished by rising to a height of ten
to twelve feet, and having straight knotty stalks, the thickness of
a finger, narrow leaves, and on the top a cluster of leaves, from
which large bulrush ears project, the seeds of which are scarcely
perceptible. Close to this grows the luxuriant water couch-grass,
with drooping blades the breadth of a finger, having a delicate blue
hue; and a dark green aquatic grass, with narrow horizontal blades,
from which branches a rush-like crown of seeds.
Feïzulla Capitan has, at last, entirely exhausted, not only his own,
but also my stock of spirituous liquors, which he used to partake
of in his debauch, as if they had been his own property. His days
of atonement have therefore commenced; he takes the Koràn with a
long face, and puts on the airs of a great Faki, on account of which
Suliman Kashef calls him Hodshà. The great Paradise-Stormer, from
Kurdistan, listens to him with profound devotion, and corrects him
very zealously, for he really seems to know the whole Koran by heart.
After eight o’clock, a large reed island appeared on our
left. Floating couch-grass islands, covered with the pale green
aquatic plants so frequently seen, meet us, and often draw a ship
round with them. The current of the water may separate these islands
from the shore, and disconnect them from the lake; or storms,
and the mighty inhabitants of the stream, when they are forcing
roads with their corporeal masses, may cut them off and set them in
motion. At ten o’clock, for the first time, on the right shore,
Sunt appears on an island with all kinds of shrubs and grasses, and
the aquatic acacia Ambak. The country on the banks of the Nile consist
of, at the same time, a broad pasture-land, with young high grass,
whilst the breadth of the river here is an hour. Towards the South
an endless channel disclosed itself, in which the water vanished by
degrees with the horizon,—a sight which we had not yet seen on the
white stream, and which was very much desired to define the latitude
and longitude. On the left, also, approached an island with the
before-named characteristics. I conclude, however, from the height
of some Sunt-trees, that it had firmer ground towards the interior,
although its beautiful flowering margin displays, as it were,
floating hills of flowers over the copsewood, with their tendrils
and grasses. At eleven o’clock, the log gave four miles and a half,
and at twelve o’clock we were obliged, from want of wind, to lay-to
at an Ambak-island. The wind returned, however, after a short time,
and we sailed through a sea of green grass or reeds, where we saw
over the extensive gently rising right shore a large city of the
Dinkas, though we were not able to approach, owing to the reeds.
The Dinkas were seen at a distance, jumping in the air whilst they
raised one arm, and struck their shields with their spears. This
appeared to me rather a challenge than an expression of joy, as
I concluded from the war-dances, the representation of which I had
before witnessed. Their city is said to stretch far beyond this ridge,
which the trees prevented us from remarking. Long swampy islands, with
reeds and other plants, entwined one with the other, extend from their
country to the middle of the stream. This is the case also, though on
a reduced scale, on the left side. The distance of the shores from
one to another is more than an hour. The reeds form in this manner
a protection, which even when the water is at the highest is not to
be overcome; just as at low water the Machadas form such a defensive
barrier. In the same manner the Shilluks on the left shore have a
marsh of reeds, under water, for protection. The Turks have managed,
however, to come at these two nations by land. Suliman Kashef himself
has twice defeated the Shilluks on the boundary of his district. These
sudden and crafty attacks of a Chasua cannot, however, be called
wars or battles. The animosity of these people to the Arabian hordes
and marauding system goes so far, for example, that when they take
a Bakhàra prisoner, they beat him to death with cudgels, death by
the Harba (spear) being considered too honourable. On the contrary,
they do not kill the Dinkas whom they may take captive, because they
consider them as aborigines and old neighbours. The Arabs, however,
do not slay the Shilluks taken prisoners by them, not so much out of
respect to the Koràn, as from their inherent selfishness. When the
Bakhàras come to the river to graze the cattle in the grass, which,
after the reeds have been burnt away, contains nourishing fodder,
there are continual petty wars between the Shilluks and Bakhàras,
in which the latter display considerable bravery, as Suliman Kashef
himself admits.
At three o’clock in the afternoon, we continue to sail towards
the South in this immeasurable tract of water. On the right and left
are partly grass islands, and partly reedy marshes, which join on to
the shore, and must, when the water is higher, before the overflowed
vegetation has yet made its way to the surface, form a regular long
lake or gigantic stream. After four o’clock we landed on the right
shore, where the white lotus was distinguished in the pools amongst
the trees, with far larger flowers than is the case where neither
shrub nor tree shelters it from the sun. The blue lotus (_Nymphæa
cærulea_) called Loss by the Nubas and Baràbras, appears no longer
here. On the left shore the smoke of signal-fires, certainly the most
ancient kind of telegraph, ascended on all sides. At six o’clock
we sailed again, and halted at a quarter past ten, just as the moon
went down. A soldier plunged into the water and sank as he was about
to touch land, probably seized by a crocodile. At sun-rise 18°, noon
26°, evening 24°, and after midnight, in the open air, 17° Reaumur.
_3rd December._—Half an hour before sun-rise we proceeded,
with a due North wind, towards the South. It was sensibly cold,
though we had 16 degrees of Reaumur. Low and marshy land again at
the side,—partly islands before the shores, properly speaking,
the elevation of which was scarcely perceptible on the left side of
the river. We had seen yesterday and the day before a few solitary
tamarinds. Now they were very abundant, and the various shades of
light and dark green of these beautiful trees, with their luxuriant
foliage, cause a delightful sensation. Their fruit, so grateful in
these parts, with its agreeable tartness, the first and last means of
support of the Ethiopians, is called in the land of Sudàn, Aradepp;
but in Egypt, Tammer-el Hendi (fruit of India); which seems to
indicate no very great commercial intercourse between the Egyptians
and Ethiopians. So also the rich gum-trees of these parts, from
which the ancients derived equally little towards their immeasurable
consumption of gum and resin, have first been used for the purposes
of commerce in more modern times. From nine to ten we advanced four
or five miles. The right shore a magnificent low country. Tamarinds,
creepers of a large species, and the lotus shining in great numbers,
like double white lilies. This stellated flower opens with the rising
of the sun, and closes when it sets. I noticed, however, afterwards,
that where they are not protected in some way from the ardent heat,
they likewise close when the sun approaches the zenith. Some of their
stalks were six feet long, and very porous; from which latter quality
these stems, as well as the flower and the larger leaves—dark green
above, and red-brown beneath, with a flat serrated border,—have
a magnificent transparent vein; but become so shrivelled, even
during the damp night, that in the morning I scarcely recognised
those which I had over night laid close to my bed on the shore. The
ancient Egyptians must, therefore, have been quick in offering up the
lotus. The flower peeps out, however, only a little above the water,
and the fruit sinks downwards, either from natural inclination, or
from the weakness of the stalk, because the water, by the formation
of it, has already fallen. The flower has above twenty tapering
white leaves, arranged around a calix of a yellow gold colour, which
is similar to that of the _Nymphæa_ in our millponds. The fillet,
from one and a half to three inches in diameter, is like a compressed
poppy-head, and ring-like incisions extend from its imperceptible
corolla to the stalk. The extraordinarily small white seed lies in a
brownish, wool-like envelope, and fills the whole capsule. Not only
are the bulbs, as large as one’s fist, of the lotus eaten, but also
the seed just mentioned; they mix it with sesame, and other grain,
amongst the bread-corn, which circumstance I ascertained afterwards,
as we found a number of these lotus-heads strung in lines to dry. To
our taste, the best way to dress the bulbs, and to free them from
the marshy flavour they leave behind in the mouth, is to drain the
water off several times in cooking them; they then taste nearly
like boiled celery, and may be very nourishing; but I would not be a
Lotophagus here, for I had much rather eat potatoes with their jackets
on. Although there are a number of bulbous plants in these parts,
serving for food to the natives, (specimens of which I collected,
but they were spoiled for want of earthen vessels to keep them in,)
yet potatoes might not thrive here any more than in Egypt, which is
far colder, as they would become watery, by the continual irrigation,
this being the case even with the grasses.
We sail S.S.W., make four to five miles, and have on the right
hand grass marsh-islands. The expanse of water before us is limited
only by a tree; to the left also of the right shore, a small ridge
of heights displays itself, which may be considered as isolated
alluvial deposits of downs. Nevertheless, it is sufficiently clear
to me, that it is almost impossible to make an accurate map from
a single voyage; this seems to have struck also the very learned
Arnaud, for he is always consulting Selim-Capitan. Sabatier is ill,
and the task therefore devolved on Arnaud, not only of observing the
course of the river, but also the direction, beginning and end of the
islands, &c., and all this with the windows hung with curtains! He
may find out that the vessel is continually changing its course,
but he could scarcely in this manner make a map of the stream,
even if an air-balloon were placed at his disposal.
Twelve o’clock, five miles, 22°, and at three o’clock, 26°
Reaumur. On the left shore, close to us, is the hill of Giràb el Esh,
(sack of corn), which name has also been given to a Sheikh of the
Shilluks living there, to denote his corpulence, a very rare thing in
that country. We were pretty close to the right shore, the extreme
edge of which rises some three feet above the still high water. The
earth is dark, and here occurs the first precipitous shore we have
seen on the white stream. The marshy world springing luxuriantly on
the left shore, checking the stream, appears to press the current to
the right side of the river, and by that means the water is always
deeper next to the latter side. Marshes, with the usual phenomena,
soon shew themselves again in the primitive bed, properly speaking,
of the stream, so that we were forced again into serpentine windings.
On the right shore, close to the mountain which we had seen on the
2nd of December, at sunrise, and which is the Defafaungh so much
spoken of in Sudàn, high dome-palms, with small heads, rise over
the tamarind-trees. The mountain itself is bare and rocky, and,
except one precipice, descends towards the river without any steep
declivity. So likewise the mountains we had hitherto seen had always
a gentle descent towards the stream, a proof that the waters have not
here undermined or compressed the ribs of the mountains towards the
river, as is the case in Nubia and on the Rhine. Defafaungh stands
there alone, like the mountains Taka, an island, as it were, in an
extensive and dry basin.
At noon we sailed past the rocky hill, four or five hundred feet
high, and went W.S.W. without my having seen through the telescope
the ruins and pyramids (Taralib) of brick (Top ahmer), supposed to be
there. At all events, I shall take care to lie to here on our return
voyage. Soon after appeared, on the left shore, a hamlet consisting
of about twenty huts, shaped of bee-hives. The people did not shew
themselves, because the good name of the Turks has spread even thus
far. The mountain is seen, from the raised deck of the cabin, rising
in the landscape; and we perceive a grassy marsh-island extending
from the right shore, in the form of an arch, into the river, and
forcing it into a direction W.S.W. In this inlet lies the village
I have mentioned, and immediately afterwards a second one. Suliman
Kashef had spied out something with his eagle eyes: he went ashore
to seize some sheep, whilst shots were fired in the air to frighten
the owners. We all followed his good example.
At five o’clock we sailed from hence W., and then W.N.W.; made
three miles, and followed the course of the river to S.W. As the
sun sets, we seem to sail through a blooming park. On the right
shore are isolated dark tamarinds, shining like gold, magnificent
masses of creepers, and bowers of flowers on a green, grass ground,
the blooming lotus shining through them. We extend our gaze across
this island over the country, on the right shore, and perceive only a
few tamarinds. The sun having already set, we turn to W.N.W. The sky,
somewhat clouded, throws splendid masses of shadow, completing the
charming landscape, upon the island, round which the ships moved in
a line, grazing its cheerful verdure. On the right shore the interior
country is somewhat elevated, a circumstance which we noticed at the
abovenamed rocks. Whilst our vessel sails N.W., the others before
us double the bend of the left shore; towards the S.
Night appears; the river turns again N.W., and the north wind, though
scarcely blowing, drives us towards the left, against a vessel,
strenuous rowing being unable to prevent this misfortune. Contention
between soldiers and sailors: no subordination, no nautical skill. The
ships strike every moment one against the other; then follows an
intolerable running here and there of the crew—pushing, throwing
down, hoisting, and bawling; in short, a frightful hurly-burly,
because one wants to sail before the other; and my indifferent
tailor-captain remains quietly at his labour, and sews so much the
more industriously! The Kurd Abdu Elliàb gives himself airs in vain;
although he had told me shortly before this, that no officer in the
whole regiment was so feared as himself, yet the soldiers will not
listen to him, but fight with the sailors. I, for my part, can do
nothing since Feizulla Capitan, who had nominated me, in his absence,
as his Wakil (deputy), was on board. At last we proceeded again till
twelve o’clock at night.
_4th December._—An hour before sunrise, we advanced, with a
N.E. wind, S.S.W., without sails; halted here and there to wait
for two ships tarrying behind, which had run upon the very shallow
ground on the right side of the river, and were obliged to put back
in order to get into the course of the stream; it was 15° Reaumur:
from nine to towards eleven o’clock S.W. On the right two villages,
with huts like beehives, at which we saw three Sürtuks (periaguas)
raised on a tree. In the forest we perceive many Shilluks, who seem
to look upon us as neither enemies nor as friends. Immediately above
this we lay-to at the left shore, to wait for the two ships which we
now saw at a distance. There are no sunt-trees here; on the contrary,
several luxurious tamarinds, which thrive in a damp soil. The Nile
is at this place more than two hours’ broad, including the Grass
Islands. At twelve o’clock, again towards the W., then W.N.W.,
and at 1 o’clock S.W., which direction we followed till sunset at
six o’clock in the evening, and with a very faint breeze.
On the right shore the more elevated land was planted with isolated
dark green tamarinds, a lively contrast to the blue sky; the left
displayed at a distance a bare high shore, on the margin of which
stood a few trees, and before them a grassy sea extended, so that
the river has, with this, a breadth of an hour and a half. The
rapidity of the stream was so inconsiderable here, that the log
gave no result. A shining, white, water-road lay before us; yet,
from a calm having set in, we could only advance but slightly with
rowing. The venomous gnats which, as well as large camel-flies and
small wasps, have made their appearance these three days, become more
abundant, and are said to be found in such quantities further south,
that we shall neither be able to eat, drink, nor sleep.
CHAPTER V.
A STORM. — TOKULS OR HUTS OF THE SHILLUKS. — THE TALLE, A
SPECIES OF MIMOSA. — THE GEÏLID. — THE BAMIE. — UEKA. —
WILD RICE. — OMMOS. — THE SHILLUKS A LARGER NATION THAN THE
FRENCH! — IMMENSE POPULATION ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE ARM OF THE
NILE. — THE HABAS OR FORESTS. — A TURKISH JEST! — LEECHES. —
DISEMBARKATION ON THE LAND OF THE SHILLUKS. — DESCRIPTION OF
THE TOKULS. — CONDUCT OF THE BEDOUINS TOWARDS THE PILGRIMS TO
MECCA. — THE MURHAKA. — MANNER OF CATCHING GAZELLES. — SÜRTUKS
OR CANOES OF THE SHILLUKS. — REFUSAL OF THE KING OF THIS NATION TO
VISIT THE VESSELS. — TREATMENT OF HIS AMBASSADORS AT KHARTUM. —
THE BAOBAB TREE. — DHELLEB PALMS. — WINDINGS OF THE RIVER. —
OSTRICHES. — HILLS OF ASHES OF THE DINKAS. — RIVER SOBAB.
5th December.—We had cast anchor yesterday evening in the middle
of the river, partly to prevent our being surprised by the natives,
and partly because landing was impossible, for the shores were a
mere swamp far and wide. The calm continued during night; but, before
daybreak, such a storm suddenly set in, that the ships, dragging after
them the anchors, were slung round, and ran one against the other,
when abuse and blustering on the side of the captain as well as of the
crew vied even with the tempest. It was fortunate that the morning
broke, and that the Habùb changed into a good N.E. wind, enabling
us, for the first time, to make six miles in the hour. The depth of
water was in the night five fathoms and a half, and the rapidity of
the river half a mile. The ships presented a beautiful sight on the
smooth water territory, which, being of a dazzling purple colour,
from the reflection of the clouds driving from the north, drew them
along like two mighty serpents through a green sea of floating grass.
At six o’clock this morning, several villages were seen on the
left shore in the land of the Shilluks. I counted twelve or fifteen
close to one another; and in half an hour afterwards again eighteen
or twenty, the last of which we passed about nine o’clock. We have
still six miles to make, and go W.S.W. for a short time; then again
in the main direction of S.W., where groups of Tokuls, joined to
one another, continue on the left shore, and lie on the old bank of
the river. The Arabs say that this is the capital of the Shilluks,
and is called Dennap. The latter word means, however, the tail of an
animal, and is therefore applied by them to the length of the row of
Tokuls, as being analogous, although the name, properly speaking, is
Kak. The structure of the huts is the same as that of the Tokuls in
Beled-Sudán, with this difference, that the roofs are not conical,
but arched.
Now, at ten o’clock, whilst the river is winding towards the south,
I remark, on the left shore, at about an hour and a half distant, a
large village, connected probably with the others, which are concealed
only by trees. Before it lies an extensive marshy meadow-land. On
the right shore is displayed a yellow line of the dry high grass,
because, owing to its height, the shore here is less exposed to
inundations. The channel of the river receives through this course
of the genuine shore an enlargement scarcely to be defined, whilst
the trees of the old left bank extend in a narrow close line, which,
at this moment, (half-past six o’clock,) is certainly two hours
long. The right shore continues flat, and forms, like the left, an
immeasurable grassy sea, the limits of which cannot be distinguished
even from the highest point of the vessel; for the isolated yellow
tracks, though almost imperceptible, may be likewise little fertile
elevations in the marsh land, tamarinds being scattered right
and left. The stream covering all these grasses, which are but of
young growth, must have formed here, therefore, a short time ago,
a regular lake.
In the low ground lying close to the river, which the tamarinds I
saw yesterday shew to be dark marsh ground, I, for the first time,
examined closely, a kind of mimosa, called talle, distinguished by
its reddish rind from the whitish rind of the tamarind, the boughs
of which are twisted nearly like those of oaks. The rind of the
talle-tree is used like that of the geïlid, to be burnt as a perfume:
a little also, grated, and strewn on the merissa, gives it a piquant
flavour. The geïlid is in its whole form like the pear-tree, only
its leaves are smaller, and the esculent fruit is similar to an olive.
Towards eleven o’clock we sailed S.E. On the left hand a regular
lotus-sea extended to the right shore. The lotus must, no doubt,
have once existed in Egypt in similar exuberance amongst analogous
circumstances of marshy soil, before it could have been reckoned among
the means of subsistence. The yellow colour which I at first took for
dry reeds, proceeded from the dry stalks of the bamie (called Uèka),
which cover the land, elevated about four feet on the right shore,
to an immeasurable distance, and suffer no other plants to rise
among them, as they grow quite close. The fruit, here very small
and rough, had, without being gathered, burst altogether from the
husks. At noon we proceeded Eastward, and the N.E. wind drove some
of the vessels into the stream towards the shore on the other side,
so that we were obliged to have recourse to towing; then arose the
usual contention about precedence.
At one o’clock we lay-to at the Bamien shore. The soil is tolerably
good, and black, though strongly mixed with sand; and the few
geïlid trees upon it have acquired an unwonted strength. Numerous
nests of sparrows and finches were perched on the dry stalks of the
bamie, and feed on its seeds. This uèka is plucked whilst green,
cut through, and dried, ground fine in the hand-mill (Murhàka),
and serves throughout the country for broth to the farinaceous
food. There were four villages in our neighbourhood, and we observed
palms at about an hour distant.
At two o’clock we left this place, and had recourse again to
Libàhn, however unwillingly the crew betook themselves to this
towing. Further on we descried villages, and as far as the eye could
reach, the land was all covered with uèka, fields of which sloped
with a gentle descent to the river, though the young plants had been
invisible, till the present time, upon the parts already dry. It does
not appear to me probable that these fields have been sown by the
hand of man, for otherwise the old stalks would have been removed,
unless they are left to protect the young plants from the heat of the
sun, till they are able to cover the ground with their own foliage;
for artificial irrigation is not to be thought of here. The Dinkas,
who inhabit these regions, as well as the Shilluks, on the left shore,
besides living on corn (Durra and Doghen), feed on the fruit of the
geïlid, frequently met with here, and on the seeds of the various
species of high grass, denominated, so significantly, “Children
of Grass” (Genna el Gesh), to which also a kind of wild rice (Rus
Suhillkai) belongs. They also feed on cattle, sheep, and goats,
and do not despise the flesh of the crocodile, or the hippopotamus.
In the afternoon our course was generally S.E. From the deck two
rivers are seen, which join and separate, whilst meandering through
the indefinitely extended green grass lake. At five o’clock we
directed our course W.S.W., and the lingering north wind setting in,
allowed us to make use of our sails. The wild bamies still continue,
intermixed here and there with Ommòs (Italian Ceci), a sweet fruit,
with a pod, much liked in Egypt. On the right shore, otherwise bare,
we see here and there a tree, and an arm of the stream stretches
far into the land.
Towards sunset the sky was somewhat clouded, but so much the more
magnificent appeared the broad tranquil river, expanding before us,
and in which our ships were reflected, as in a mirror, whilst solitary
small islands floated around us in all the lustre of green and
gold. The left shore is covered with trees, and the horizon bounded
by solitary huts. We halt when it becomes calm; but at my persuasion,
take to our oars till we come up to Suliman Kashef’s vessel. About
nine o’clock we sail S.W. with the N.E. wind blowing up, and make,
up to half-past one o’clock, three miles in the hour. Southwards
till the evening. Depth of the stream, in the middle of which we
anchored, four fathoms.
_6th December._—At day-break S.W. by S., five miles. At some
distance from the left shore villages, said to continue in an unbroken
line, on account of which the Kurd thinks that the Shilluks are a
larger nation than the French. An enormous meadow land lies in the
water before the river’s edge, upon which tokuls are observed,
at not quite an hour’s distance, called Biut (from Beit-House),
because these huts, as it is said, are somewhat different in form from
those commonly met with in the land of Sudàn. The right shore joins
the horizon in a wide creek, and approaches us again at half-past
eight o’clock, when we are sailing S.W., whilst the villages on
the deserted ancient shores, extend from west to south. The large
villages of the Dinkas appear now on the right bank, with a marshy
foreground of three quarters of an hour in breadth, having a very
monotonous appearance, and being almost without a tree. Opposite lie
two large villages, honoured with the name of Helle (City), upon
gently elevated downs, in an elliptical arch. The larger city may
contain about one hundred tokuls, and is said, according to Selim
Capitan, to be called Minianàk. Immediately afterwards four other
villages appeared; the projecting wood did not permit us to discover
any others that there might have been. The bare shore of the Dinkas
is enlivened by six large villages, and a seventh appeared on the
horizon S.S.W.: they lie an hour and a half distant from the water,
and certainly the enormous Bamian field, by its slightly undulating
form, concealed from our sight yesterday many villages. Here also,
as among the Shilluks, it is said that Helles join one to the other in
a line, for the space of several days’ journey. Four miles course,
and half a mile the rapidity of the current. The villages on the
right shore lie generally higher than those on the left.
There is certainly no river in the world the shores of which are,
for so great a distance, so uninterruptedly covered with habitations
of human beings. We cannot conceive whence so many people derive their
nourishment. There are some negroes on the left shore, lying without
any clothing on them, in the grass; therefore the ground cannot be
covered to any height with water. They made gestures, and greeted us
with uplifted arms; but our people thought that we could not trust
such a friendly welcoming, for they might have concealed their spears
in the grass, in which, perhaps, a whole troop of men were hidden.
Neither these Shilluks nor the Jengähs, up the river, possess horses
or camels, but merely sheep and cows. When they take a horse or camel
from the Turks, they do not kill it—probably not eating the flesh
of these animals,—but put out its eyes as a punishment for having
brought the enemy into their country. Those animals, being introduced
from Asia, may indeed, with difficulty, withstand the marshy nature of
this land, as may be inferred from what usually takes place in Taka,
where, on account of their great mortality during the damp season,
they are driven to the more elevated parts (Gallas). Whether a kind
of animal worship lies under their not killing these beasts, I do
not venture to determine. Towards the south the shores contract,
and the villages also approach nearer to the river.
At half-past nine o’clock the left bank, close at hand, presented
a real forest of tamarinds, which also traverses the lower covered
pasture-land, or follows, in an irregular form, the newer line
of the shore, caused by the descent of the stream. An incredible
number of birds appear on all sides; these airy attendants of
the marshes devour terrestrial animals, which perish through the
overflow of water, and would otherwise entirely poison the air,
as in Egypt. The trees, standing singly, are, for the most part,
quite white, from the excrement of the birds, and naturally die
away. On the old undulating left shore are as many as eight villages;
to the left hand, two long rows of the peaks of tokuls, distant,
perhaps, about two hours’ journey; those on the right hand being
half an hour from our course. The old banks, however, do not come
close to the river, as we at first thought, but appear to have their
main direction towards S.W. The stream winds in two arms through the
grass, marshy meadow-land, which is at least two hours’ in breadth,
and seems once to have formed the bed of the primitive stream. The
right shore is bare, without trees, and possibly, from its higher
situation, prevents the Nile from producing any green land. On the
contrary, we see in the hollow on the right hand, five or six heads
of palms, appearing to be dome-palms.
About twelve o’clock, we remark in the bare horizon, on the left
hand, nine villages of the Dinkas; and on the right, immediately
behind the trees of the low country, generally on a level with the
river, only raised here and there, seven villages of the Shilluks,
on the borders of the green vegetation lying in front of them. The
meadows before these villages are skirted indeed by trees, but
between them, and in the background, no vegetation, except copsewood
on parched grass-land, is discerned; whereas on the right shore,
where the villages may be from two to two hours’ and a half from
us, not a tree is to be seen on the enormous grass plain,—not even
near the huts themselves. We sail S.W., half-past twelve o’clock,
where to the right of the left shore, some groups of huts extend
in a bamien field, which is already parched, and bounded in the
back-ground by trees in full verdure. When the inundation takes place,
it is impossible that these huts can be inhabited, from their low
situation. An island, with two hills, extends to the right side of
the shore.
Whilst Suliman Kashef’s vessel was making a bend before us, in
order to sail on the other side, Feïzulla Capitan, who was standing
aloft, on the cabin, determined to keep on his course. Suliman
Kashef no sooner remarks this, than he sends two shots at Feïzulla
Capitan, so close that I myself, who was standing before the door
of the cabin, heard the balls whistle. The latter remained quietly
standing, although, according to his own assertion, as well as that
of the sailors who were aloft repairing the sails, the balls flew by
within a hand’s breadth of his head: he merely said, “Malesh—hue
billàb” (it is nothing—he is jesting). Feïzulla also shot twice;
pointing, however, the gun in an opposite direction, that so Suliman
Kashef might see that he took the friendly greeting as a Turkish joke,
and being a bad shot did not dare to aim at him.
On the left side of the river, six small villages, of from twenty
to fifty huts, between groves of sunt-wood; at the right side,
in the distant horizon, ten villages, some of them long and large,
and having treeless, immeasurable, Nile-meadows before them. We see
also now on the left shore, behind the trees, habitations as far as
which the water appears to reach. Therefore the river, including the
marshes under water, which are its limits, must be at least three
hours’ broad. The villages denoting best the direction of the
old shore, and between which the present stream arbitrarily winds,
extend now (about two o’clock) from east to west. We counted in
the space of an hour, seventeen large and small villages.
We sail S.S.E. into an arm of the Nile, which continues to become
narrower, and where we at last stick fast on the grass, for it
contracted itself to the length of our bark. Happily the river here
is not so deep but that we could make use of our long poles, whilst
the wind helped us, in some measure, to break through this short
passage. We did this in order to gain a wider arm in W.S.W. and S.W.,
wherein the principal stream seems to flow, the water, shortly before,
being entirely stagnant. The sailors, who had jumped into the water
on this little error in our course, came again on board with leeches
sticking to their bodies, the first and only ones I have seen in
the land of Sudàn.