CHAPTER I.

[Illustration: DINKA VILLAGE.]

THE

HEART OF AFRICA.

THREE YEARS’ TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES

IN THE UNEXPLORED REGIONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.

FROM 1868 TO 1871.

BY

DR. GEORG SCHWEINFURTH.

TRANSLATED BY ELLEN E. FREWER.

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY WINWOOD READE.

_IN TWO VOLUMES._

VOL. I.

WITH MAPS AND WOODCUT ILLUSTRATIONS.

LONDON:

SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, LOW, AND SEARLE.

CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.

1873.

_All rights reserved._

LONDON:

PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS.

STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

INTRODUCTION.

[Illustration]

Above Assouan, the terminus of tourists is the Nubian Desert, a yellow

arm of the Sahara, thrust between Central Africa and Egypt. When this

desert is crossed, you come to the ancient Ethiopia, which consists of

lowlands watered by the Nile, while a little to the left is Abyssinia,

the Switzerland of Africa. The White Nile, which comes from the

Equator, is hereabouts joined by the Blue Nile, or Black Nile, from

the Abyssinian Wells; and near their confluence is the town, Khartoom.

In the glorious days of the Pharaohs Ethiopia was colonised by Egypt,

and there was a famous city, Meroe by name, possessing pyramids and

temples. In the days of Egyptian decline Ethiopia became independent,

conquered the mother country for a time, and was never entered by the

armies of the Persians. The Ptolemies who afterwards reigned at

Alexandria did conquer Ethiopia, even to its Highlands, carrying their

arms, as they boasted, where the Pharaohs themselves had never been;

but the Romans did not occupy the country; they followed the advice of

Augustus,[1] and the Nubian Desert was made their frontier.

In the same manner the Arabs under the caliphs did not attempt the

conquest of Ethiopia, and it was perhaps owing to Buonaparte that

Turkish Egypt advanced so far to the south.

The French expedition has always been stigmatised as a fruitless

crime. But by the French the power of the Mamelukes was broken; by the

French was displayed on Egyptian soil the superior genius of Europe,

and thence may be derived a movement similar to that which in the days

of the Pharaohs was produced by the Phil-Hellenes, or kings who were

“lovers of the Greeks.” Mehemet Ali organised an army in the European

manner, and crossing the Nubian Desert, conquered the lowlands of

Ethiopia or Soudan. At the same time he commenced the civilisation of

Cairo. These two great projects, culture in the capital, and conquest

in Soudan, have been carried out of late years with marvellous

intelligence and energy by the reigning Khedive. To understand what

has been accomplished, let us compare the Egypt and Ethiopia of the

present with the past.

In the past, a European traveller who visited Egypt incurred contumely

and considerable risk. He was not allowed to ride on a horse; he was

called “dog” by the pious who passed him in the streets, and pelted by

the playful gamin; the dogs barked at him; the women turned their eyes

away as if they had seen an unclean thing. But now Cairo, like Rome

and Florence, lives upon tourists, who, if they are not beloved, are

welcome; the city is lighted by gas: it has public gardens in which a

native military band performs every afternoon; an excellent theatre,

for which Verdi composed Aïda; new houses in the Parisian style are

springing up by streets, and are let out at high rents as soon as they

are finished. No gentleman wears a turban; and few any longer affect to

despise the blessings of a good education.

Let us now pass on to the south. In the olden time the Nubian Desert

was infested by roving bandit-tribes. Since the days of Mehemet Ali

they have earned an honest livelihood by letting out their camels: and

soon they will become navvies, railway porters, &c. Already there is

telegraphic communication between Cairo and Khartoom, and a railway is

about to be commenced. As for the Soudan, it was formerly divided

among a number of barbarous chiefs almost incessantly at war. It is

now conquered and at peace, and trade is seldom disturbed. Civilised

opinion, all-powerful at Cairo, penetrates into the remotest recesses

of this new African empire; the traffic in slaves is abolished, and

those who perpetrated their crimes in the dark depths of the continent

have lately been reached by the arm of the law.

It is my purpose in making these remarks to show what facilities for

geographical research are afforded by the power and good will of

Egypt. In former times the explorer began at the Nubian Desert or the

Red Sea; he might be plundered of all that he possessed before he

entered negro Africa at all. Supposing he arrived safely in Sennaar,

he was at once exposed to those vexatious extortions and delays which

so frequently robbed him of his money and his health before he had

opened new ground. As it is, a firmam from the Viceroy obtains him men

and boats from the governor of Khartoom, and therefore his point of

departure is shifted many degrees to the south. He is now able to

penetrate into the heart of Africa before he encounters an independent

chief. The area of the firmam is immense, but beyond that area the

dangers and difficulties of travel are perhaps increased by the

aggressive policy of Egypt. The princes of Darfoor and Waday have a

constant dread of annexation, and a European traveller, if he entered

those countries, would find it difficult to obtain his congé. The west

forest region which lies south of Darfoor and Waday, and also along

the main stream of the Nile, has always been a slave-hunting ground;

annual raids are made from Darfoor and Waday, the hunters taking out

licences from their kings,[2] and the Egyptian company of bandits,

whom Sir Samuel Baker recently dispersed, hunted the land south of

Grondokoro. These wars unsettled the country and rendered it difficult

for travel. The slave-hunters intrigued against the European, fearing

that he would expose them to the government at Cairo; and the

slave-hunted had learnt to regard all white men as their foes and

oppressors. Thus it has happened that out of a host of men who have

attempted to penetrate Africa from north to south only two have

achieved success. The first and foremost of these is Sir Samuel Baker;

the second is Dr. G. A. Schweinfurth, the author of this work.

He was born at Riga in December 1836, and was the son of a merchant.

He studied at Heidelberg and Berlin, where he took his degree as

Doctor of Philosophy, and devoted himself from his boyhood to the

science of botany. At his first school one of the masters was a son of

a missionary in South Africa; he used often to describe the wonders of

that country, and perhaps it was in this manner that his mind was

turned towards that country which afterwards created his career. But

the proximate cause was a collection of plants placed in his hands to

arrange and describe. In 1860, the young Freiherr von Barnim,

accompanied by Dr. Hartmann, had made a journey in the region of the

Nile, where he had fallen a victim to the climate. His collections

were brought home, and as Schweinfurth day after day studied these dry

corpses, a yearning came upon him to go to the land where he might

behold them in all their bloom and their beauty, and where he might

discover new species—those _golden joys_ for the explorer. In 1863,

he left Berlin for Egypt, and having botanised in the Delta of the

Nile, travelled along the shores of the Red Sea, skirted the Highlands

of Abyssinia, passed on to Khartoom, and finally, his purse being

empty, returned to Europe, after an absence of two years and a half,

with a splendid collection of plants. But soon he languished for

Africa again, and submitted to the Royal Academy of Science a plan for

the botanical exploration of the equatorial districts lying west of

the Nile. His proposals were at once accepted; he received a grant of

money from the Humboldt Institution, and, in 1868, he landed in Egypt.

During three years he was absent in the _heart of Africa_, and, even

before he had returned, his name had already become famous in Europe

and America. Travelling, not in the footsteps of Baker, but in a

westerly direction, he reached the neighbourhood of Baker’s lake,

passing through the country of the Niam-Niam, and visiting the unknown

kingdom of Monbuttoo. As an explorer, he stands in the highest rank,

and merits to be classed with Mungo Park, Denham and Clapperton,

Livingstone, Burton, Speke and Grant, Barth and Rohlfs. He can also

claim two qualifications which no African traveller has hitherto

possessed. He is a scientific botanist, and also an accomplished

draughtsman. Park had some knowledge of botany, and Grant made an

excellent collection, but both must be regarded as merely amateurs. In

other works of African travel the explorer has given rude sketches to

some professional artist, and thus the picture has been made; but

Schweinfurth’s sketches were finished works of art. In a geographical

sense, this work is of importance as a contribution to the problem of

the Nile; and ethnologically it sets at rest a point which has long

been under dispute, viz., the existence of a dwarf race in Central

Africa. These Pygmies are mentioned by the classical writers; much has

been said about them by modern travellers on the Nile; Krapf saw one

on the Eastern Coast; the old voyagers allude to their existence in

the kingdom of the Congo, and Du Chaillu met them in Ashango Land. Yet

still much mystery remained which, thanks to Schweinfurth, is now at

an end. That such a race exists is now placed beyond a doubt; and it

is probable that these dwarfs are no other than the Bushmen of South

Africa, who are not confined, as was formerly supposed, to that corner

of the continent, but also inhabit various remote recesses of Africa,

and were probably the original natives of the country.

WINWOOD READE.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Gibbon, Vol. I. c. i.

[2] Mohammed el Tounsy, Wadai.

[Illustration:

MAP OF DR. SCHWEINFURTH’S DISCOVERIES in CENTRAL AFRICA]

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

My former journey—Inducements to a second—Plan and

object—Custom-house difficulties at Suez—Scenes in

the Governor’s divan—Environs of Suez—Sulphur mine of

Gimsah—Recluse life of the officials—An unenticing coast—The

roadstead of Djidda—The bride of the fish—Voyage across the

Red Sea—Salt works of Roway—Appearance of the shore—Charm of

the moonlight nights—Importance of Suakin—First night-camp

in the mountains—New species of Dracæna—Numerous succulents

among the flora—The valley of Singat —Idyllic abode of the

Governor—Mountains of Erkoweet—The olive-tree wild—Gardens of

the desert—Characteristics of the town Bedouins—Equipment for

the desert—Old fanatic from Kano—Injury and oppression—The

Bedouin camp O-Mareg—Brown coating of the rocks—Goats and

sheep of the Bedouins—Plant with my own name—Contest with

the camel-drivers—Ugliness of the women—A monument of

nature—Arrival at the Nile—Tent in peril—A wedding—The

ninety-nine islands and the Sablook-straits—Pitiable condition

of the country—Arrival at Khartoom Page 1

CHAPTER II.

Kind reception in Khartoom—Dyafer Pasha, the Governor-General—

Contract with Ghattas—Herr W. Duisberg—Ivory trade at

Khartoom—Khartoom possessions in the negro countries—Departure

from Khartoom—Manning of the boat—Construction of the

Khartoom boats—First night on the White Nile—Character of

the landscape—Washing away of the east bank—Fertility of

the country on the west—Acacia forests—Herds of the

Hassanieh—Numerous hippopotamuses—Geese and ducks—Beginning

of the wilderness—The Ambatch-wood—First day of ill-luck—

Running over a wild buffalo—Baggara Arabs—Brethren in the

faith—The mountain Nyemati—Evening gossip about pygmies—

Native Egyptian cultivated plants—Buffalos alarming the

Baggara—Mohammed Kher, the robber chief—Impressions on the

first sight of savages—Boat attacked by bees—Frightful

agony—Gadflies—Giant snails—A man carries three

canoes—Repair of the sail-yard—Fashoda the most southern

military station—Fifteen Shillooks at a shot—Gay

temperament of the people—Gun accidents—African giant

snakes 43

CHAPTER III.

Camp of the Mudir—A negro king—Campaigns—Future of the

country—A wise judge—The shrieking priest—Gum-arabic—The

melodious tree—Mohammed Aboo-Sammat—Boats on the

flight—Treachery of the Shillooks—General market—Excuse

for plunder—First papyrus—Cæsar among the pirates—Useless

attempts to proceed—A world of grass—Hippopotamuses in

a fright—The last obstacle—Depreciation of the Gazelle

stream—_Bon-mot_ of the Viceroy—Ghattas’s namesake—The

slipper-shape—Description of the Nueir—Analogy between

man and beast—Cactus-type of Euphorbiæ—The Bahr-el-Arab a

mainstream—Vallisneria meadows—Arrival in Port Rek—True

nature of the Gazelle—Discovery of the Meshera—Deadly climate

and its victims—Le Saint—Features of the scenery—The old

queen and her prince consort—Royal gifts—Fishes and birds 84

CHAPTER IV.

Start for the interior—Flags of the Khartoomers—Comfortable

travelling with bearers—The African elephant—Parting

from Shol and Kurdyook—Disgusting wells in the district

of the Lao—Wide sandflats—Village of Take—Fatal

accident—Arabian protocol—Halt in the village of

Kudy—Description of the Dinka—Peculiarities of the

race—Dyeing of the hair—Nudity—“The Turkish lady”—Iron

age—Weapons of the Dinka—“People of the stick”—Weapons of

defence—Domestic cleanliness—_Cuisine_—Entertainment of the

ladies—Snakes—Tobacco-smoking—Construction of the huts—Dinka

sheep, goats, and dogs—Reverence for cattle—Degeneration

of cows—Intestinal worms—Deficiency of milk—Large

murahs—Capabilities of the Dinka—Warlike spirit—Treatment of

enemies—Instance of parental affection—Forest district of

the Al-Waj—Arrival at Ghattas’s chief Seriba 137

CHAPTER V.

Reception at the

Seriba—Population—Fertility—Salubrity—Management—Poor

prospects of the ivory trade—Failure of European

firms in Khartoom—Idrees, the chief agent—Domestic

arrangements—Beauties of spring—The daughter Seriba Geer—Bit

of primeval forest—Giraffe-hunt—Bamboo jungle—Negro

festival and music—Trip to the Dyoor and to Wow—Desertion

of bearers—Good entertainment—Marquis Antinori and

Vayssière—Old servant of Petherick’s—Hornblend—Height

of the water of the Dyoor—Apostrophe to the river—A

model Seriba—First acquaintance with Niam-niam—Trader

from Tunis—The Wow River—Seriba Agahd in Wow—Edible

fruits of the country—Wild buffaloes—Instability

of dwellings—Caama and Leucotis antelopes—Numerous

butterflies—Bear-baboons—Pharaoh palms—Daily life of the

Dyoor—Their race—Iron-smelting—Formation of huts—Idyll of

village life—Hunting with snares—Women’s work—Graves—Care

of young and old 172

CHAPTER VI.

Laying out a garden _à l’Européenne_—Hunting adventure

with a bastard Gems-bok—Death of Arslan—Physiognomy

of the vegetation—Character of the soil—Geography

of plants—Destruction of a Seriba by natives—Seriba

law—Cattle-raids on the Dinka—Tour round Ghattas’s

Seribas—Geography at Geer—Fish of the Tondy—Fear of

ghosts in Kulongo—Caves of Gubbehee—Central African

jackal—Bamboos in blossom—Triumph of Nature over her

traducers—Joint-stock distillery in Gurfala—Nubian love

of drink—Petherick’s Mundo—Unsuccessful chase in the

long grass—Two bush-antelopes—Cultivated plants of the

district—Cereals—Large growth of sorghum—Leguminous

fruits—Oily fruits—Tubers—Vegetables—Tobacco—Smoking

in Africa 213

CHAPTER VII.

THE BONGO: Area, boundaries, and population of Bongoland—

Subjection of the Bongo to the Khartoomers—Decrease of

population by slave-trading—Red tinge of the skin—Width of

the skull—Small growth of hair—No aridity in climate—Wild

tubers as food—Races of goats and dogs—Hunting-weapons—

Villages and huts—Smelting furnaces—Money of the

Bongo—Weapons for display—Wood-carving— Penates of the

Bongo—Musical instruments—Character of Bongo music—

Corpulence of the women—Hottentot Venus—Mutilation of the

teeth—Disfigurement of the lips—Arrow-poisoning—National

games—Marriage premiums—Natural morality—Disposing of the

dead—Memorial erections—Mistrust of spirits—Loma, good

and ill-luck—Fear of ghosts—Belief in witches—

Peculiarities of language—Unity of the people of Central

Africa—Extermination of the race Page 256

CHAPTER VIII.

Calamities by fire—Deliverance and escape—Six women-slaves

burnt—Barterings—Domestication of wild-cats—Plague of

cockroaches—Pillen wasps—Agamæ and chameleons—Fever—

Meteorology—Solar phenomenon—A festal reception with an

unfortunate result—Disturbance of rest at night—Murmuring

of prayers—Jewish school—Orgies and drum-beating—Casting

out devils—Resolve to follow Aboo-Sammat—Start towards the

south—Passage of the Tondy—Character of the forest—The

water-bock—Scenery by night—Shereefee’s attack—Seriba

Duggoo—Consequences of the steppe-burning—Seriba

Dagguddoo—Burnt human bones and charred huts—Tropics in

winter—Two kinds of ant-hills—Arrival in Sabby—Nocturnal

festivities of the Bongo—Desolation of the country—

Goat-suckers—Abundance of game—The zebra-ichneumon—The

spectral mantis—Lions—Wonderful chase after hartebeests—

Snake and antelope at a shot 315

CHAPTER IX.

Tour through the Mittoo country—Early morning in the wilderness

—Soldier carried away by a lion—Dokkuttoo—Fishing in the

Roah—Feeding a slave caravan—Ngahma—Dimindo, the hunter’s

Seriba—Wounds from the grass—Dangadduloo—Entertainment in the

Seribas—The river Rohl—Reception at Awoory—Footsore—Trial

of patience—People of the district—Poncet’s Seriba Mvolo—

Mercantile prospects for the Egyptian Government—Fantastic

character of landscape—Structure of pile-work—Rock-rabbits—

Rock-rabbits’ feet—Nile cataract in miniature—The _Tinnea

æthiopica_—Seriba Karo on the Wohko—Reggo and its breed of

dogs—Kurraggera—Aboo Sammat’s festivities—A speech of the

Kenoosian—Aboo Sammat and the subjugated chiefs—Deragoh

and its mountains—Kuddoo on the Roah—Fear of lions in the

forest of Geegyee—Return to Sabby—The Mittoo people—

Inferiority of race—Disfiguration of the lips by Mittoo

women—Fetters of fashion—Love of music 365

CHAPTER X.

Preparations for Niam-niam campaign—Generosity of Aboo Sammat—

Organisation of the caravan—Ceremonies at starting—Banner

of Islam—Travelling costume—Terminalia forest—Hartebeest

chase—Ahmed the Liar—Prospect from Mbala Ngeea—Bivouac on

the Lehssy—Camp noises at night—Story of cannibalism—

Ahmed’s fate—The Ibba—First meeting with Niam-niam—Growth

of the popukky-grass—Elephant-hunting among the Niam-niam—

Surprise at the white man—Visit to Nganye—A chieftain’s

household—Entertainment by Nganye—Gumba—Colocasia—A

Niam-niam minstrel—Beauty of the Zowa-trees—Encephalartus

on the hill of Gumango—Cultivated districts on the Rye—

Condition of hamlets and farms—Devastation of Bendo’s

district—Contest with the soldiers—Escape from a bullet—

Identity of the Sway and the Dyoor—The law of drainage—

Passage of the Manzilly—First primeval forest—Frontier

wildernesses—Organisation in the geography of plants—

Importance of guinea-fowl to the traveller—Feeding the

bearers—National diet 415

CHAPTER XI.

Aboo Sammat’s territory—Jungle on the brooks—Discovery of wild

pepper—Giant trees—Modesty of the Niam-niam women—Fresh

danger from a bullet—A Bongo poisoned by manioc—Liberal

treatment of bearers—Nduppo’s disagreement with Wando—Savage

admiration of Europeans—The skin-trade—Wando’s braggings

and threatenings—Formation of columns for war—Natives

as soldiers—Difficulties of river-fording—Difference of

level of soil on the watersheds—Mohammed’s prelude to

drinking beer—Division of forces—Primeval forest on the

Lindukoo—Rikkete’s jealousy—Varieties of genets—Mohammed’s

_réveil_—Morning toilet of the Niam-niam—Waterfall on the

Lindukoo—Magic roots—Watershed of the Nile district—Simple

geological formation of Central Africa—The chimpanzee

and pandanus found only beyond the watershed—Confusion

in crossing the brook—Africa’s revenge on the white

man—Venturesome interview of Mohammed with Wando—Value of

ivory and copper—Definition of a “gallery-wood”—Duality of

vegetation—Wando visits my tent—Wando’s _nonchalance_—A

specimen of native cookery—Six Nubians murdered by

Niam-niam—The leaf-eater and grass-man 465

CHAPTER XII.

Poultry-market—Votive pillars and hunting-trophies—Indirect

evidence of cannibalism—The chimpanzee in Central Africa—

Presents of chimpanzee skulls—New style of huts—The

A-Banga—Cultivation of manioc in Central Africa—The

Treculia—Cam-wood and muscat nuts—Conflict with natives—

Shooting-match and sham fight—Magic lucifers—Mutual

interchange of blood—Botanical excursion interrupted—Gyabir

wounded—Modes of expressing pain—Female slaves captured—Giant

lichens—Tree-termites—Monbuttoo frontier—Reception

by Nembey—Northern limit of the oil-palm—Imaginary

alarm—Unexpected arrival of Khartoomers—Visit of Bongwa

and his wife—Cattle of the Maogoo—Cultivation of the

sugar-cane—Interview with Izingerria—Arrival at the

Welle—Condition of the Welle—Relations of the stream—Crossing

the river—Monbuttoo canoes—New impressions of the heart of

Africa—Arrival at Munza’s residence 515

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

(ENGRAVED BY J. D. COOPER.)

PAGE

Ombet—Dragon trees _to face_ 22

The Lassav (_Capparis galeata_) 23

A Bishareen Sheep 34

Aboo-Odfa 37

Ambatch Canoe 77

View of Fashoda 80

Prickles of _Acacia fistula_ 98

In full flight before the Shillook canoes _to face_ 100

The vessels in the grass-barrier _to face_ 106

Balæniceps Rex 116

The Meshera 128

The old Shol 133

View on the Meshera (Port Rek) _to face_ 136

Profiles of the Dinka 149

A Dinka Dandy 151

Dinka Instruments for parrying club blows 155

Dinka village _to face_ 159

Sectional View, showing construction of Dinka Hut 160

Dinka Bull 161

Dinka Sheep 162

Dinka Goat 163

“Kyatt” Worm 166

Dinka cattle-park _to face_ 166

The chief settlement of Kurshook Ali. A majestic

Khaya-tree _to face_ 188

Central African Hartebeest 195

Leucotis Antelope (male) 196

Leucotis Antelope (female) 197

Brass Ornaments of the Dyoor 202

Portrait of a Dyoor 203

Portrait of a Dyoor 204

Spear Head 205

Dyoor Spade _ib._

Dyoor Smelting-furnace 207

Dyoor village in winter _to face_ 209

Central African Bastard Gemsbok (_Antilope leucophæa_) 217

Kosaria palmata 220

The Kilnoky 231

Young Polypterus 232

The Madoqua 244

The Deloo 245

Central African Yam 251

The Nyitti _ib._

Calyx of the _Hibiscus Sabdarifa_ 253

Bongo Goat 270

Short-bodied Goat of the Bongo 271

Vertical Section of Smelting-oven 278

Iron Money 279

Bongo Lances 280

Pincers used by the Bongo women for plucking out their

eyelashes 281

Knife of the Bongo women _ib._

The Dangabor and a single ring 282

Bongo stool 283

Yanga’s grave 285

Bongo 293

Bongo woman 295

Phenomenon on the 17th of May, 1869 (_coloured plate_)

_to face_ 326

The Depression of the Tondy _to face_ 336

The Central African Waterbock (_Antilope ellipsipryma_) 339

Mushroom-shaped white-ant hills 349

View in the district of Mvolo _to face_ 384

Poncet’s Seriba in Mvolo _to face ib._

Goggo, a Mittoo-Madi Chief 394

Goat of the Bongo, Mittoo, Momvoo, and Babuckur 405

Lory, a Mittoo Woman 407

Wengo, a Mittoo Woman 408

Loobah Woman 409

Cone of quartz worn in the lip _ib._

Apron worn by the Madi 410

Ngahma, a Mittoo Chief 411

Mittoo Lyre 413

Niam-niam in full dress 439

Coiffure of the Niam-niam 440

A Niam-niam Minstrel _to face_ 445

A Niam-niam Girl 472

Niam-niam hamlet on the Diamvonoo _to face_ 517

An A-Banga 524

Platycerium Elephantotis, Schweinf. 538

Bongwa’s Wife 544

Entry to Izingerria’s Mbanga _to face_ 546

* * * * *

Large Map of Dr. Schweinfurth’s Discoveries in Central

Africa _to follow_ viii

ERRATA.

Vol. I., page 32, line 10 from bottom, _for_ “prevaence,”

_read_ “prevalence.”

” ” 50, line 16 from top, _for_ “pew,” _read_ “pen.”

” ” 140, line 6 from bottom, _for_ “Kigelia,” _read_ “Kigeliæ.”

” ” 419, line 6 from bottom, _for_ “Shaba,” _read_ “Sheyba.”

THE HEART OF AFRICA.

CHAPTER I.

My former journey. Inducements to a second. Plan and object.

Custom-house difficulties at Suez. Scenes in the Governor’s

divan. Environs of Suez. Sulphur mine of Gimsah. Recluse

life of the officials. An unenticing coast. The roadstead of

Djidda. The bride of the fish. Voyage across the Red Sea.

Salt works of Roway. Appearance of the shore. Charm of the

moonlight nights. Importance of Suakin. First night-camp in

the mountains. New species of Dracæna. Numerous succulents

among the flora. The valley of Singat. Idyllic abode of the

Governor. Mountains of Erkoweet. The olive-tree wild. Gardens

of the desert. Characteristics of the town Bedouins. Equipment

for the desert. Old fanatic from Kano. Injury and oppression.

The Bedouin camp O-Mareg. Brown coating of the rocks. Goats and

sheep of the Bedouins. Plant with my own name. Contest with the

camel-drivers. Ugliness of the women. A monument of nature.

Arrival at the Nile. Tent in peril. A wedding. The ninety-nine

islands and the Sablook-straits. Pitiable condition of the

country. Arrival at Khartoom.

When, in the summer of 1868, I prepared for the great journey, of

which the following pages contain the description, I was already

no novice on African soil. In 1863 I had served an apprenticeship

in the art of travelling in the sunny fields of Egypt and Nubia.

For months together, in my own boat, I had navigated the Red Sea;

and it was while I was exploring the untraversed mountains by its

coasts that I seriously conceived my larger project. My curiosity

was particularly attracted towards the district of the independent

Bishareen. I had then repeatedly crossed the country between the

Nile and the sea, and while sojourning on the lower terraces of the

Abyssinian highlands, I had learnt to appreciate the full enchantment

of the wonders of nature in Africa.

In 1866, passing through Khartoom and Berber, I found my way back again

to Egypt.

Once entertained, the project of the botanical investigation of these

lands resolved itself more and more into the problem of my life. The

splendid herbarium, too, which I had carried home as the reward of my

labours, obtained though it was at the cost of repeated attacks of

fever, contributed to intensify my desire. Altogether the result of my

first attempt was an encouragement and happy omen for my success in

a second. My experience hitherto was likewise advantageous to me so

far as this,—it had afforded opportunity of cultivating the faculty

so necessary to every explorer of unknown districts, of correctly

generalising from details. Observations and impressions require to

be surveyed from a comprehensive point of view, in order that the

characteristic features of a country may be represented in their true

proportions.

Besides this general information which I had practically gained

and which I could no more have learnt from books than I could have

learnt the foreign habits and modes of thought, I had also acquired

that fluency in the Arab vernacular which is indispensable to every

traveller, and which, moreover, appears to suffice for the whole of

the immense district which is commanded by the Nile and its host of

tributaries.

[Sidenote: BOTANICAL ARDOUR.]

Herbarium, topography, and language all seemed to favour me; the chief

drawback was the state of my health. I suffered from a disorganised

condition of the spleen, which gave me some uneasiness and misgiving;

yet, after all, it appeared to be just the key that had unlocked

the secret of the unexampled good fortune of my journey. The

numerous attacks of fever had probably reduced it to such a state of

inactivity, that it ceased to be affected by any miasma; or

perhaps it had assumed the function of a condensator, so as to render

the miasma innocuous. Anyhow, it seemed to perform services which I

could not do otherwise than gratefully accept as a timely gift of

Providence. As a farewell on my landing in Alexandria, I experienced

one slight twinge from my malady, and then it was quiet; it did not

again re-appear even in the noxious swamps of the Upper Nile, which

had been disastrous to so many of my predecessors. No recurrence of

my disorder interrupted my activity or clouded my enjoyment, but

fever-free I remained, an exception among a hundred travellers.

The time which elapsed between the completion of my first, and the

commencement of my second journey, was occupied in studies which were

directed to the scientific classification and analysis of what had been

so abundantly secured.

Whoever knows the blameless avarice of a plant-hunter will understand

how these studies could only arouse in me a craving after fresh booty.

I could not forget that the greater part of the Nile territory, with

the mysterious flora of its most southern affluents, still remained

a fresh field for botanical investigations; and no wonder that it

presented itself as an object irresistibly attractive to my desires.

But one who has himself, on the virgin soil of knowledge in unopened

lands, been captivated by the charm of gathering fresh varieties,

and has surrendered himself to the unreserved enjoyment of Nature’s

freedom, will be prompted to yet keener eagerness; such an one cannot

be daunted by any privation he has undergone, nor deterred by any alarm

for his health: he recalls as a vision of Paradise the land he has

learnt to love; he exaggerates the insalubrity of a northern climate;

he bewails the wretched formality of our civilised life, and so, back

to the distant solitudes flies his recollection like a dove to the

wilderness.

Of this kind were my impressions as these two years passed away.

I was prohibited from any immediate prosecution of my hope by the

inadequacy of my pecuniary means. A welcome opportunity, however, soon

presented itself, and enabled me to resume my investigation of the

district of the Nile.

After the death of Alexander von Humboldt, there had been founded in

Berlin, as a monument of gratitude and recognition of his services,

the “Humboldt Institution of Natural Philosophy and Travels.” The

object of this was, without regard to nationality or creed, to

assist talent in every direction in which Humboldt had displayed his

scientific energies; and it was especially directed that the funds

should be applied to promote travels in the most-remote districts. The

Institute contemplated a supply of means for the prosecution of those

philosophical studies to which Humboldt dedicated himself with such

unceasing ardour. The Royal Academy of Science of Berlin was vested

alike with the power of deciding on the undertakings and of selecting

suitable agents to carry out their designs.

To that eminent scientific corporation I ventured to submit a scheme

for the botanical investigation of those equatorial districts which are

traversed by the western affluents of the Upper Nile. My proposal met

with a ready sanction, and I was rejoiced to receive a grant of the

disposable funds of the Institution, which had been accumulating for

the space of five years.

Thus it happened, that in July 1868 I was once more upon the soil of

Africa.

[Sidenote: GOVERNMENT COUNTENANCE.]

During my first stay at Khartoom, which is the centre of government of

the Egyptian Soudan, I had collected a variety of information about

the ivory expeditions undertaken by the merchants of the place to the

country about the sources of the Nile; I had likewise made certain

alliances with the natives, and by these means I hoped to project a

plan for a scientific progress over the district on a firm basis.

There was no doubt that in the heathen negro districts of the

Upper Nile, the Egyptian Government exercised little influence and no

authority. Under its direction, the Khartoom merchants had indeed done

something—for sixteen years they had traversed the land in well-nigh

every direction, and they had established stations for themselves

in the negro borders; but they had not made good any hold upon the

territory in general. Nevertheless, I had no alternative than to

conclude that without the countenance of the Government, and without

the co-operation and support of the merchants, there was no reasonable

expectation that the objects of a scientific traveller could be

forwarded.

I was quite aware that various travellers had already attempted, at a

large sacrifice of money, to arrange independent expeditions, and to

engage an adequate number of armed men on their own responsibility;

but no sooner had they reached the more remote regions, where the few

channels of the river were all in the hands of the merchants, than they

necessarily became dependent on the merchants for their supplies. There

was, besides, no other quarter on which to rely for obtaining porters,

who are indispensable in a country where all known beasts of burden are

accustomed in a short time to succumb to the climate.

Upon the whole, therefore, I soon came to the determination of

being taken in the train of the merchants of Khartoom, trusting

that the countries opened by them would offer sufficient scope

for all my energies. It was probable that the ivory traders would

never, of their own accord, want to thwart me; yet I would not rely

entirely on this, as I knew that they were themselves subjects of

the Viceroy. As matter of fact, probably, they were entire masters

of the situation in the negro countries, and really irresponsible;

but still their interests made them apparently subservient to

an absolute government, and this was the handle that I desired

to use accordingly. By diplomatic interest, I had secured the

ostensible recognition of the Viceregal Government, but from my own

experience, I was fully convinced that mere letters of recommendation

to the local authorities, as long as their contents are limited to

ordinary formal phrases, are of very questionable advantage. I might

refer particularly to Sir Samuel Baker’s misadventure as affording an

illustration of the insufficiency of such credentials. I considered

myself fortunate, therefore, in obtaining from the Prime Minister of

the Viceroy (although he was himself not in residence) special orders,

which I knew were indispensable, to the Governor-General of Khartoom.

The Governor-General was to superintend any contract which I might

make with the merchants to secure that my journey through the district

of the Gazelle River should be unhindered, and to ensure the due

fulfilment of whatever obligations might be undertaken.

Thus the course appeared to be smooth, by which I might hope to reach

the centre of the mysterious continent; but I was still far from my

object, still far from the point which I could consider as the true

starting-point of my real journey. Between Alexandria and Khartoom was

a route familiar enough, but even Khartoom could hardly be deemed the

beginning. In order to reach the cannibal and the pigmy there faced

me, as perchance there does the reader, many a trial of patience. What

I did in Alexandria and Cairo can afford little or no interest; I was

there fully occupied in preparations and purchases for my equipment, at

times feeling much depressed. Before me lay the uncertain future, and

the perils, which I could not conceal from myself, of this inhospitable

region; and behind me was Europe, in which to dwell was insupportable,

without seeing my cherished designs accomplished.

[Sidenote: AT SUEZ.]

In Suez the dejection of despondency yielded to feelings of a more

lively nature, partly from vexation, partly from amusement. The

custom-house afforded me vexation, whilst the Governor’s divan was an

unfailing source of amusement. I arrived in Suez on the 16th of

August, proposing to continue my journey to Djidda by the next

steamer. Much gratified by the intelligence that a steamer belonging

to the Sulphur Company would start in four days, I was proceeding to

embark at once, when I was stopped by the custom-house authorities,

who desired a strict investigation of the luggage, and insisted upon

payment of the tariff duties for every article of my huge accumulation

of baggage. Perhaps everything might have been arranged, but when my

additional waggon appeared, although I explained that it had been

furnished me by the Government, and notwithstanding that I was the

bearer of letters directed to the Egyptian revenue officers, the

director required an extra special order, and referred me to the

Governor, who telegraphed back to Alexandria. In the meantime, for the

next two days, I was compelled to take turns with my factotum, the

Nubian servant, to sit in the sun on my baggage in order to protect my

boxes which contained my money bags full of Maria Theresa dollars. As

a refuge for the night I betook myself to a hotel, not much larger

than a hut, in which I had already some years previously found the

accommodation just suited to give me a foretaste of the privations of

the desert.

My consternation may be imagined, when at last there arrived from the

capital an order that I must pay precisely as any ordinary traveller.

Hardly had I recovered my first surprise, when accidentally one of

the Governor’s clerks called attention to some contradictions in the

despatch. Further inquiries were instituted, and the discovery was made

that an important word had been overlooked, and that the tenor of the

message was that I was “_not_” to pay.

Whilst this was going on, and I was kept in my suspense, I stayed

chiefly in the Governor’s divan. This officer, untroubled at the

revolutions which were taking place around him, untouched by any

development of the spirit of the age so perceptible here, where

three-quarters of the world join hands, ruled his people in simplicity

and in the fear of the Lord. During the time which I passed sitting in

his divan awaiting the issue of events, I was a witness of several

incidents exhibiting this simplicity, and which struck me as being

somewhat ludicrous. First stepped in a swarthy-looking fellow, with a

knavish countenance, such as one meets but seldom even in the streets

of Alexandria. He wanted to legitimatise himself in his character of a

British subject, or “_protégé_” as he styled himself. To the

Governor’s inquiry where he came from, he said from Tarablus.

“Tarablus! then how can you be English?” said the Governor. “Why,

surely, because Tarablus is in the west,” replied the rogue. It was

objected that he was forging a lie, and that Tarablus was not in the

west, and thence there ensued a tedious geographical discussion about

Eastern and Western Tripoli. The rascal went on to assert that his

father was a native of Malta, that after his death he had married,

settled in Tripoli, and had become a Mohammedan; and then he cunningly

added, “Allah be with you, and give you grace! I should hope I could

be an Englishman and yet be a good Mussulman.” Quite satisfied, the

Governor gave a contented look, and let him pass. The order was given

for the next applicant to be heard. With hesitating steps there now

approached a little man, black and repulsive, bringing with him a

veiled girl to the front. It was a scene which suggested the thought

that he must be a slave-dealer, and it reminded me of one of Horace

Vernet’s famous pictures; but the circumstances were different. He

proceeded to unroll mysteriously and display a splendid caftan of

yellow silk. He was, it seemed, a tailor of the suburbs, and the

veiled beauty was a slave-girl from Enarea, who had formerly been sold

for filthy lucre, and was now bartering her honesty under the same

inducement. The caftan was a gorgeous vestment lined with imitation

ermine, and not unlike the night-dress of Ivan the Terrible, which is

preserved in the Troitsky convent near Moscow. The girl had ordered

the dress, and now would not pay for it, and accordingly the tailor

had brought her with him to the Governor, and so enforced his demand.

[Sidenote: SCENE IN THE DIVAN.]

The next scene had a wonderful climax. It might almost remind one of

the tedious campaign ending with the sudden collapse of Magdala. What

the beginning of the contention was, I cannot tell. The Governor had

apparently been trying to mediate between two Arnauts; but as the

prolonged discourse was carried on in Turkish, I did not understand

it. A quantity of apples were produced, and some of them laid for

an evidently conciliatory purpose beside the Governor. All at once,

however, some misunderstanding occurred, and there arose a furious

storm of apples: they were hurled in every direction, the Bey himself

being the originator of the bombardment; and the scene closed as

effectively as though there had been a display of fireworks. For

myself, I was happily protected by my situation; but I could see

all, and am ready, if need be, to vouch for my representation in the

presence of the great Sultan himself. If any one is inclined to suspect

that such a sight is incompatible with the dignity or indolence of

Turks, I can only remind him that their enlarged intercourse with

temperaments less sluggish than their own has broken down much of their

composure; and that now just as little patience can be expected from an

African Bey when he is irritated, as from an excited Bavarian corporal.

Although these details may appear to have no direct connection with

what concerns Central Africa, yet they are significant as exhibiting

how completely, for all purposes of administration, every institution

which is Turkish or Mohammedan remains fixed on its ancient basis.

Though Suez were to become a second San Francisco, or however much

it might concentrate upon itself the traffic of the world, scenes of

judicial practice such as these would be sure to recur until the last

Pasha or Bey had taken farewell of this mortal state.

Since my first visit five years ago, in January 1864, the population of

Suez had increased threefold. The Abyssinian campaign alone had been

the means of almost doubling the number of its inhabitants. A portion

of the camp formed for the marching troops, and an immense depôt for

trusses of hay, seeming well nigh like a large village in itself, were

now the sole relics of that successful enterprise.

The fresh-water canal, which had now been completed for five years,

had not effected any marked improvement upon the melancholy environs

of the town, where desolation still reigned as ever; no gardens, no

plantations, no verdure relieved the eye, which sought its refreshment

from the blue sky and the azure sea. The hopeful expectations which

were entertained from that canal seem by no means to have been

realised. The deposit of any fertilising soil proceeded very slowly,

and hitherto had made no change in the condition of vegetation at Suez,

except just at the foot of the Mokkatan mountains, where the boulder

flats, unimpregnated with salt, are traversed by a separate side branch

of the main canal. Large fields of vegetables are cultivated here, and,

without the aid of man, many varieties of desert plants contribute

to the verdure. The tourist who loves to inscribe fresh acquisitions

in his diary, may here without trouble find the far-famed “rose of

Jericho,” which he would seek in vain around the suburbs of Cairo.

In order to reach Khartoom, I had chosen the sea-route by Suakin, so

as to avoid the heat and fatigue of a journey through the great Nubian

desert. This sea-route, by Suakin and Berber, is quicker and altogether

less expensive than that by Assouan and Korosko; but it is not

advisable for merchants who are travelling with any quantity of goods,

on account of the heavy duties which are levied both at starting from

Suez and at landing at Suakin.

[Sidenote: ON THE RED SEA.]

To save trouble and time I thought it would be best to proceed

to Djidda, and there hire a sailing vessel to convey our

party across to Suakin. To reach Djidda, I made choice of a little

French packet which was going thither in preference to one of the

Egyptian Azizieh steamers which ply between Suez and Massowa. These

larger vessels do indeed touch both at Djidda and Suakin, but they are

not suited for general travellers. The name of our little steamer was

‘Prince Mohammed Tawfik,’ (the heir-apparent to the throne of Egypt):

it belonged to the “Compagnie Soufrière,” and was commissioned to

supply the sulphur mines of Gimsah on the Egyptian coast with fresh

water every fourteen days. Although it was in no way adapted for

the conveyance of passengers, I was nevertheless quite comfortable

on board. It was a vessel of only 300 tons burden, but by dividing

the receptacle for conveying the Nile water into seven separate

compartments, a great economy of space was effected, and a good hold

reserved. The fact of the captain being a Dane, was a still farther

recommendation.

It was a memorable morning, that 18th of August, on which the sailing

vessel was prepared to leave the roadstead. Many a curious eye, in

those early hours, was strained to witness the sun, as its disk

rose darkened by the shadow of an eclipse. Above the flood of the

Erythræan Sea appeared a golden sickle, its crescent light bearing

resemblance to the moon. We were detained for yet two days in the

roadstead; but at last we weighed anchor, and the little craft soon

vanished from the midst of its more imposing neighbours, the great

mail ships and men-of-war, which gave such a bright animation to

the anchorage. A refreshing breeze from the north-east carried us

across the gulf. Ever deepening violet shadows covered the shore,

until the obscurity of night had completely hidden Mount St.

Catherine and the Mount of Moses from our gaze. At dawn we were

facing the grim shore of the sulphur mountain. Here we were greeted

by the waving of the French tricolour, which, in the monotonous

grey that mantled the whole land, afforded a bright resting-place for

the weary eye.

According to a treaty made with the Egyptian Government, the Company

are enabled to carry on their operations over 160 miles of coast,

south from Cape Seit, where the Egyptian territory forms a promontory

opposite the peninsula of Sinai. The coast line is similar in outline

to the adjacent Gimsah, whilst, with the group of islands which lie

off it, it forms the entrance of the Gulf of Suez. We now passed

down the narrow channel which divides the group of islands from the

mainland, and there lay before us the bluff of Gimsah, a steep mass

of pure gypsum, white as chalk. This peak is about 200 feet above

the level of the sea: it faces nearly south, its aspect is bare,

and like all the mountains contiguous to the sea on these dreary

and uninhabited coasts, it presents hardly the faintest trace of

vegetation. Since July, 1867, the mines have been worked by a gang of

labourers, of which twenty-six were Europeans and 300 were brought

from Upper Egypt. For a time they were yielding a rich produce,

which afforded the best hopes for the future; but now, like so much

else in the country, have fallen into decay. The mutual intrigues

and corruption of the contractors have yielded a fresh testimony on

the one hand, to the continual ill-luck of the Government, which

seems fated never to be able to improve the bounty of its natural

resources; and on the other, to the ruthless avarice of foreigners,

which is ever stopping the progress of the country. A tedious lawsuit

has laid bare a whole series of scandals, discreditable alike to the

directors and to the administrators of the Viceregal Government. The

state of affairs, even in 1868, was melancholy enough. The Egyptian

Government had contracted to supply work in the mines at a stipulated

daily rate of payment. For the protection of the colony, as well

as for the maintenance of discipline among the workmen, a guard of

twenty-five soldiers was kept at Gimsah; this was rather a

superfluity, since the Egyptian workmen, once taken into service,

could not easily escape. They were hemmed in on one side by wide

deserts, which could not be traversed in a day; and as for danger on

the other from the Bedouins, none could be apprehended. A report about

the Bedouins, which was current at Suez, could not fail to awaken my

interest. The passengers of a mail steamer, which had lately foundered

at the entrance of the Gulf, maintained that they had seen on the

opposite mainland a body of wild men 200 strong, looking out for booty

and for plunder. Assuredly by no exertions could the Bedouins collect

such a force in the course of a few hours. Poor sons of the desert, I

knew them better! An exhausted stomach, shrivelled up on their long

wanderings till it is like an empty water-bottle, is the only voice in

their naturally harmless character which could excite to violence. Give

them a couple of handfuls of durra-corn, and you have made them the

best of friends. Their desire for plunder is limited to the robbing of

turtles’ nests, and the taking of eggs from the neighbouring islands.

[Sidenote: SULPHUR WORKS AT GIMSAH.]

Protected by numberless coral-reefs, the coasts of the Red Sea

everywhere afford to small vessels the most comfortable harbours and

anchorage. Here a short stone quay sufficed as a mole for moorage, and

close behind was a grotto-like cistern in the rock, into which the

water could be pumped by means of pipes connected with the reservoirs

in the ship. On the narrow border of land between the foot of the

rock and the sea, were erected huts of planks for the workmen, and

barracks of stone for the officials of the Company. Such was the

little piece of land on which the colony, composed of representatives

of many a nation, prolonged its deplorable existence. Bounded in

front by the dreary expanse of sea, which was rarely enlivened by a

solitary sail, shut in behind by the sun-scorched gypsum, they were

thus exposed to a double share of direct and reflected rays. The

atmosphere in which they toiled was burdened with the stifling fumes

of sulphur, and oppressed with the perpetual odour of burning

petroleum; not alone the welfare, but the very existence of the

colony, was dependent on the safe return of the steamer which provided

them with food and drink. Whoever has lingered here can form some

conception of the endurances of the poor beasts in our zoological

gardens, which have been brought together from every zone, and caged

in hopeless imprisonment. So monotonously and void of joy did the days

of these wretched miners pass away; they led a life more gloomy than

monastic, which might almost recall the first century of Christendom.

Perhaps such a life belongs to the air, for it may be remembered that

the renowned convents of St. Paul and St. Antony are distant but a few

miles to the north-west; they are remnants of the oldest convents that

are known, and to them, as often as a patriarch is required, does

Egypt, according to ancient rule, ever turn to supply the vacancy.

[Sidenote: TROPICAL HEAT.]

In reality the colony of Gimsah, when approached from the sea, did

present quite the appearance of a monastic settlement in the heart

of a desert. Caverns were hewn in all directions, in order to work

the veins of gypseous spar containing the sulphur, and amongst them

lay a row of twelve hexagonal little houses, which were the kilns,

built after the Sicilian fashion, and which might at first be mistaken

for the cells of pious monks. To crown the denial and privation

of this existence, the Company, under the pretext of maintaining

discipline, order, and morality among the miners, had peremptorily

banished all women from the sulphur coasts. This restriction was

especially irritating to the French, and as a refinement of cruelty

was as intolerable as those poisonous fumes of pitch and sulphur

which were here set free from the bowels of the earth. Nevertheless

it would seem to have answered well, for young and old, Arab and

European, went through their work with a diligence such as is rarely

to be observed in other tropical regions. Only when the sun’s heat

after midday was most insupportable, was there a cessation of labour.

At 12 o’clock, when the _employé_ of the Suez Canal, in his period of

repose, sauntered into the coffee-house to take an ice or to enjoy a

game at billiards, the untiring director began his daily circuit of

inspection; and seldom has a quotation seemed to me more apt than that

in which he said that the hour was come in which he must surrender

himself to the sulphurous and torturing flames.

After staying twenty-four hours in the harbour at Gimsah, the ‘Prince

Mohammed Tawfik’ continued its voyage to Djidda, where it arrived on

the fourth day. At that season, when no pilgrims were coming or going,

we found the harbour all but deserted; only one French and two Egyptian

men-of-war were in the security of the roadstead. I easily obtained an

open Arab boat, which I hoped, under favourable gales, should convey me

to Suakin.

On account of the prevalence of north-winds through the greater part

of the year, navigation in the Red Sea is nearly always as easy in

this direction as it is difficult in the contrary. This accounts for

European sailing vessels so rarely reaching Suez; they proceed only as

far as Djidda, and that only when coming from India or at the time of

the pilgrimage.

I had to spend two hot days on board while my baggage was disembarked.

Whoever has been to India knows well enough what is the furnace

temperature of the Red Sea, and how, south of the tropic of Cancer, it

becomes insufferable. The thermometer stood at midday at about 95°

Fahrenheit, and the air was like a vapour-bath. The sea water, a few

degrees cooler, afforded us, nevertheless, some refreshment, and we

did our utmost to enjoy it at all hours of the day. Still there was

something very enervating and depressing about this amphibious life.

Had the heat and sun-glare been less overpowering, we might have truly

enjoyed the splashing and sport in the bright green floods which

spread over the shallows where coral banks ranged themselves below,

and where the eye could detect a thousand marvels. Like terraces

filled with the choicest plants, the sloping beds of coral descended

with variegated festoons into the purple shades of the deep; strange

forms were witnessed in these living groves, and conspicuous among

others was the “bride of the fish,” which is celebrated in the Arabian

fishing-song, “O bride, lovely bride of the fish, come to me.” Ever

and anon on my voyage, which was to me as an Odyssey, did I delight to

catch fragments of this song, as it was dreamily hummed by the man at

the stern during the hot midday hour when the crew had sunk into

slumber, and while, noiselessly and spirit-like, our vessel glided

through the emerald floods. The enchantment, as of a fairy tale, of

these waters with their myriad living forms of every tint and shape,

defies all power of description.

Without entering the town, I lost no time in putting off to sea in my

little Arab craft. At first we made little headway, but after noon a

fresh breeze came from the north-east, which continued all night, so

that by the following morning, after a voyage of nearly 100 miles in

twenty hours, we slackened sail under the mountains which I had

previously visited, in lat. 21° N. The Nubian coast was almost close

in front of us. A very primitive kind of compass enabled us to steer

to this goal. I was glad to find that no water had reached my baggage,

for in the heavy sea the boat had rolled and pitched considerably. We

ran along the coast, and each familiar scene revived in me pleasant

memories of my former journey, which had been unmarred by a single

trouble. Close in view was Cape Roway, where the formation of a lagoon

had developed natural salt-works, from which is obtained the salt for

the consumption at Djidda, and for export to India. The salt, however,

is only secured during the eight hottest months of the year, when the

Red Sea is reduced to its lowest level, two or three feet below its

altitude in the winter. The only explanation of this phenomenon seems

to be the prevalent direction of the wind taken in connection with the

position of the water. The bearings of the sea are such that the wind

drives the waves with full force towards the Straits of Mandeb, the

narrowness of which retards the outflow of the water and produces an

immense evaporation.

[Sidenote: SUBMARINE MEADOW.]

The flat shore between the mountains and the sea with its coral reefs

was hidden from our view. A green carpet of samphire covered the coast

for miles along the land. This botanically may be represented as

coming under the genus Suæda, the name of which is imitated from the

Arab “sued,” the original of our “soda.” This plant has long been

turned to a profitable account, and to this day Arab boats may be seen

about the coast, engaged in the procuring and preserving of it.

Rising directly out of the water close to the shore grow in patches

great clusters of Avicennia, so abundant in tropical seas, the

beautiful laurel-leaf of which forms a dazzling contrast to the bare

brown of the mainland.

Over considerable tracts at the depth of thirty feet the sea bottom

resembles a submarine meadow, rich with every species of sea-grass: in

these, turtles and dujongs, which are so numerous in this part of the

Red Sea, find their pasture land. It must be a very protracted

business for these cumbrous creatures to get their sustenance, bit by

bit, from these tender leaflets; but they have time enough and nothing

else to do.

The little islets in the height of summer are the resort of flocks of

water-birds who go there to breed undisturbed. On one of these, in

July 1864, we collected over 2000 eggs of the tern, although the dry

area above the strand consisted of scarcely so many square feet. At

the approach of night the wind failed us, and with fluttering sails we

drifted into sight of a place called Durroor. Two antique Turkish

guard-houses of small dimensions gleamed with their white walls far

across the sea. They are not unlike the rough-walled watch-towers of

our fortresses, and are said to have been built by Selim II. when

Yemen was subdued; they are the scanty remains of a past which

continues to the present, isolated memorials of a barren, inhospitable

coast, where all is changeless as the rolling waves.

I shall not easily forget the nights which I passed becalmed upon that

sea. Sleep there could be none. Drenched in perspiration, one could

only sit by his lamp and indulge the hope that the breeze at daybreak

might be somewhat cooler. Air and sea combined to form an interminable

mass of vapour through which the moon could only penetrate with a

lurid silvery gleam. One bright strip alone cleaves itself a way over

the silent waves; it stretches towards an aperture in the horizon,

which would seem to be the origin of all the brightness: but all is

full of strange illusion, for the moon is here above our heads. The

boat floats as though it were an aërial vessel in a globe of vapour;

the depth of the sea, illumined by the vertical beams of the moon, is

like another sky beneath us, and hosts of mysterious beings,

diversified in colour and confused in form, are moving underneath our

feet. The calmness of the air and the unbroken stillness of this

spectral nature increased the magic of these moonlight nights.

Late in the evening of the third day we ran into the harbour of

Suakin. This town, formerly held directly subject to the Turkish

power, had three years since, together with Massowa and the adjacent

coast, been surrendered to the Viceroy of Egypt. In that short time it

had remarkably improved. Formed by nature to serve as a harbour for

the Egyptian Soudan, and even for Abyssinia, the place, as long as its

administration came from Arabia and Constantinople, could inevitably

never rise, and even now its prosperity is only comparative. The

Egyptian Government still obstructs all traffic by the heavy duties

which it levies even on the natural intercourse with Suez; it is

desirous of transferring its interests as a centre to Massowa,

watching continually with attentive eyes the ungoverned condition of

Abyssinia. Since the traffic on the Nile by way of Berber ever

continues in uninterrupted activity, and this place lies but 200 miles

from Suakin, whilst the distance between Massowa and Khartoom is twice

as far, why any preference should be given to Massowa is altogether

incomprehensible.

[Sidenote: SUAKIN.]

I was now visiting Suakin for the fourth time, and the Governor

received me very graciously as an old acquaintance. He sent

immediately for some camels, which I required for the continuation of

my journey. He himself had to leave the town on the following day to

visit his summer abode in the neighbouring mountains. There still

remained to me four months before commencing my real journey from

Khartoom, as the voyage up the White Nile could not begin until

December or January; I resolved to fill up the interval by a tour

through the mountains of South Nubia, for the purpose of accustoming

myself to the heat and fatigue of a harmless climate, before exposing

myself to the fever atmosphere of Khartoom and the Upper Nile

districts. Just at this time of year, too, the valleys between the Red

Sea and the Nile promised me a rich booty, and I hoped to obtain a

remuneration for any toil on my part by the botanical varieties which

were to be looked for on the elevated ridges. I could not do otherwise

than rejoice in the prospect of escape from the glowing oven of Suakin

towards the western horizon, where the mountain-chains, veiled in grey

vapour, betrayed the refreshing rains which favoured the district and

rendered it so preferable for my sojourn. At night was heard the roll

of distant thunder, and the darkness was broken at intervals by

flashes of lightning.

On the 10th of September at daybreak all was ready. After the lapse of

two years passed in the domestic comforts of Europe, it is not

altogether easy to remount the “ship of the desert.” Our first day’s

march was through a trying country. The plain indeed was uniformly

level, but for twelve miles it was covered with such huge black

boulders glowing with the heat, that progress was very difficult.

After we had proceeded about nine miles from the town, we made a short

midday halt under the miserable shade of some dry acacias, which were

like the uncovered skeletons of parasols. As if in despair they

stretched their leafless branches towards the sky, and seemed to

implore for water. Exposed here in a leathern pipe to the wind, our

drinking water soon cooled down to a temperature about 18° below the

surrounding atmosphere.

The coast plains, although practically level, evidently slope very

gradually down to the sea, for after a few hours’ march the town is

seen like a white spot far below. Beyond is the expanse of sea, which

melts into the horizon. The coast-ridges are on an average from 3000

to 4000 feet high, but occasionally single peaks may rise to an

altitude of 5000 feet. At one time they appear like a lofty wall,

rising abruptly from the slanting plane; at another like separate

piles of rock picturesquely grouped behind and over one another. Our

route awhile across the narrow promontory now lay along the enclosure

of a valley bounded by sloping walls of granite. After twelve hours’

perseverance, on the afternoon of the following day we reached the

first mountain pass, about 3000 feet above the level of the sea.

[Sidenote: NIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS.]

Infinitely refreshing was it to ascend at every step higher into the

mountain atmosphere, and to be raised above the vapourous heat of the

suffocating shore. There seemed a requickening energy in every breath

of air, as gratefully it circulated on the heights. The real charm of

such a change could not be appreciated more than on the first night of

camping-out. Comfortably stretched upon the clean smooth stones which

form the valley, the weary limbs could find repose; through the silent

night the stars shed a bright and kind encouragement; there was an

aromatic odour floating refreshingly around, for, impregnated with

camphor, mint, and thyme, the air was laden with scents which the

stores of the perfumer could not rival, and such as no quarter of the

globe could surpass. The plants which exhale the welcome aroma are

little obscure mountain weeds, amongst which a “pulicaria” plays an

essential part. Noiselessly and like spectres glided the camels on

their soft feet through the valley, rejoicing in the pasture, sweet

and luscious after the scanty herbage of the shore, where for them all

was dearth and salt and bitterness.

Solemnity reigned throughout nature; no discordant cry of mountain

bird, no howling beast of prey, disturbed the traveller: there was

only the delicate song of the desert cricket to lull him into peaceful

slumber.

The mountains between Suakin and Singat afford a habitat for such

numbers of remarkable plants that they appear for their variety alone

well worth a visit. The most striking forms which arrest the attention

of the uninitiated are the Dracænæ and Euphorbiæ, remarkable as both

are for their fantastic shapes. They flourish on the loftiest heights,

but are found 2000 feet below, towards the valleys. The first belong

to those types of vegetation which (as though they had been carried in

the air and dropped from another world) are limited to extremely

narrow sections of the earth. The first dragon-trees (_dracænæ_) which

were observed in the African continent, are those which are to be

found on these mountains alone, and even here only over an area of a

few square miles.[3] The Nubian dracænæ, being only from 15 to 20 feet

in height, are dwarfish in comparison with their famous sister of

Orotava in Teneriffe, but in other respects there are only minute and

subtle distinctions between them and those which are found in the

Canary Isles. In the language of the native nomad tribes of the

Hadendoa and Bishareen, the dracæna is known as “To-Omba” or

“T’Ombet.” The leaves afford bast for cords, the long flower stalks

serve in June as excellent food for camels, whilst for goats they are

almost poison.[4]

Another remarkable feature of this mountain-district is the large

number of succulent plants, the fantastic forms of which here

appropriately adorn the craggy walls of the valley, and supply a

needed decoration to the more barren rocks of Southern Nubia.

In Abyssinia itself neither euphorbiæ nor aloes are ever found at an

altitude of less than 4000 feet. Here, beside the giant Kolkwal, they

are found much lower towards the valley. Four smaller kinds of the

same species, as well as some remarkable Stapeliæ (which resemble the

cactus type of the euphorbiæ), flourish to the very summit of the

mountains. Found in company with them is a wild unearthly-looking

plant called the Caraïb (_Bucerosia_), of which the branches are like

wings, prickly and jagged round the edges like a dragon’s back. They

produce clusters of brown flowers as large as one’s fist, which exhale

a noxious and revolting smell, the plants themselves being swollen

with a white and slimy poisonous juice.

[Illustration: OMBET—DRAGON-TREES.]

[Sidenote: THE LASSAV.]

No space may be found to enumerate all the varieties, but I must

mention the Seyleb (_Sanseviera_), whose fleshy tender leaves provided

the Nubian nomad with the ordinary material for the cords with which

he binds their burdens on his camels. These leaves in shape are not

unlike the Nile whips, and on that account may readily recall and stir

up painful memories to the poor Nubian of the kurbatch of the Turks,

whenever he may chance to see them. So richly burdened are the hanging

rocks with the varieties of rarest plants; so large and multiform is

the exhibition of scarce and novel succulents—that the greatest

enthusiast could hardly fail to be bewildered. As a most interesting

development of structural peculiarity, the Lassav, one of the

Capparids, demands some notice. It produces flowers which take a form

quite unique. A drawing taken from nature shows the strange deformity

of the petals, a double cluster of which is attached to the one broad

sepal, so as to produce the effect of two handkerchiefs in one pocket.

[Illustration: The Lassav (_Capparis galeata_). (Illustration

two-thirds of natural size.)]

This rich covering of vegetation is, however, confined to the side of

the mountains towards the sea; on the other side, as soon as the

second pass is left behind, the rocks are bare, and only the lowest

part of the valley is covered with anything of luxuriant verdure.

Acacias, growing so closely as almost to form a hedge, and gigantic

clumps of the grass-green Salvadora, shoot up like great dishes of

green salad from the cheerless space around. The moistening vapour of

the sea does not reach here to clothe the parched and naked rock. Such

were the valleys through which on the morning of the third day we

passed on to complete the first stage of our wanderings. Towards

midday, after marching for nineteen hours, we had reached Singat, the

summer retreat of the town Bedouins of Suakin.

The valley of Singat is about a league in breadth. It is enclosed by

two lofty mountain chains running parallel to the coast, apparently

joined by a number of projecting spurs. On the broad sandy bed of the

valley were erected scarcely less than 500 of those Bedouin tents, of

which the shape, in their drooping folds, may be compared to what we

see in the breast of a roasted fowl. Here, at least a quarter of the

population of the town, which reckons 3000 souls, passes the season of

refreshing rains. Later, when the mountain valleys are again dry and

destitute of pasture, these transient habitations are carried back

again; and the camels and goats must find their pasturage on the

slopes in the vicinity of the town, which are exposed to the action of

the damp sea air.

Here, at his usual resort, I met Muntass Bey, the Governor of Suakin.

His residence consisted of a Sammor-acacia, with foliage

wide-spreading like a parasol. Under the shadow of this commodious and

airy roof, common to all, was served the midday meal. Some tents in

the immediate proximity were provided as places of refuge from the

rain. A storm of unusual violence broke over us in the course of the

day, and changed the centre of the valley into a foaming torrent, 200

paces wide, for three hours; the flood rushed onwards with unabated

strength and sought the sea. I found shelter in a guard-room built of

blocks of stone and clay, the quarters of the garrison of 200

Bazibozuks. After the rain the temperature was lowered to a refreshing

coolness, and on the following morning I rejoiced to register a

temperature of 68° F.

[Sidenote: SUMMER RETREATS.]

Whilst I stayed in Singat, I always at dinner-time found an open table

beneath the Governor’s great tree. This was rendered enjoyable not

more by the skill of the cook than by the harmony of the Egyptian

singers, whom the Bey had in his suite. The camels, which I had hired

in Suakin, were meanwhile sent away to the pastures in the

neighbouring valleys, to be recruited against their approaching

fatigues. The camel drivers were by no means in a hurry to start, as

time was not of the smallest value to them. A trip of five days in the

lofty mountains of Erkoweet, eight or ten leagues to the south-east of

Singat, unclosed to my researches the vegetable treasures of this most

northerly spur of the Abyssinian highland, hitherto unexplored; and

was full of enjoyment, equally beneficial both to mind and body.

Erkoweet is another summer retreat for the people of Suakin. The

valley in which the tents are pitched is called Harrasa, and discloses

the whole flora of the Abyssinian highland in wonderful and complete

luxuriance. Euphorbiæ and dracænæ deck the mountains in masses which

might almost be reckoned by millions, so that the slopes in the

distance have the appearance of being covered with huge black patches.

From amongst innumerable projections of granite, mostly dome-shaped

and adorned with charming foliage, there juts forth one huge slanting

mass of mountain, which is probably the highest elevation of the

district of Suakin, if not of the entire chain which runs along the

coast. I ascended this peak nearly 6000 feet in altitude, and was

amply repaid for the exertion by the magnificent prospect before me.

There was extreme enjoyment in the freshness of the air. The whole

contour of the coast lay stretched in clear and perfect outline. The

whole confused system of the mountains of the coast lay like a map

below my feet. In a circumference of seventy miles I plainly

recognised single masses, so that the peaks known to me in my earlier

visits served as landmarks to inform me of my true position.

As the result of several favourable meteorological combinations, there

exists in these loftier elevations a more luxuriant development of

vegetation than in any of the neighbouring mountain districts of South

Nubia, which have a lower altitude. This is illustrated very plainly

by the clusters of beard-moss (_Usnea_) which hang on every twig and

branch, by the abundance of sulphur-coloured lichens on every mass of

rock, and likewise by the formation of numerous luxuriant beds of

moss. Mosses are generally deficient alike in Egypt proper and in

Nubia, and are scarcely seen in the trenches and clefts of the Nile

valley; their existence is dependent on a minimum of moisture

throughout the year, which is there but rarely reached.

At Erkoweet I found again the wild olive tree, which I had already

discovered some years previously on the mountains by the Elbe. I

noticed that it assumes the same low bushy shape here, and bears the

same box-like foliage, as it does on the coast ridges of the

Mediterranean; when the two are compared they exhibit a general

identity, so that I conclude the African and European are of the same

family. The olive tree, it is well known, is reckoned, like the fig

tree, as originally a product of the frontiers of Asia; in remote

antiquity, it was reverenced by Semitic nations, and cultivated until

it bore a rich produce. This type of vegetation fails completely in

the interior of the continent. In the time of Homer the olive grew

wild on the islands of the Grecian Archipelago, and it is still to be

met with, though in an altered condition, on the coasts of Syria; but

here on the Red Sea it has remained unchanged for thousands of years,

and the famous classical tree of myth and song is still undisturbed in

the dreams of its youth.

[Sidenote: WATER-COURSES.]

A bare boulder-flat of black hornblende stones, extending several

miles, divides the mountains of Erkoweet from those which bound the

valley of Singat on the east. The broad water-courses which run

between, show what must be the prodigious volume and violence of the

currents which occasionally rush downwards to the sea. These deep

water-courses are, however, only periodically filled, and then only

for a few hours, in the course of the year, so that for some months

they are adapted for the cultivation of corn. Notwithstanding, there

was here but a very limited cultivation of sorghum, the Arabian durra,

since there is a difficulty in securing labour. The idle nomads have

no disposition for agricultural employment, although famine in dry

seasons, when the flocks can nowhere find sufficient pasture, brings

back its recurring calamity. In the year before my last visit, in the

valleys about Singat alone, seventy men had died literally of hunger,

after vainly endeavouring for weeks to subsist upon wild purslane.

All water-courses, with a supply of moist soil upon the ground just

sufficient for a few months, although they are not enclosed by heights

like valleys, are comprehended within the Arab designation “el wady.”

Cheerless through the dry season, after the first rain their level

sand flats are clothed with the most luxuriant flora; fresh springing

grasses put forth their little cushion points, and give the sward the

appearance of being dotted with a myriad spikes; then quickly come the

sprouting blades, and all is like a waving field of corn. Halfway

between Singat and Erkoweet we halted in a wady of this character,

which bore the name of Sarroweet. What a prospect! how gay with its

variety of hue, green and red and yellow! Nothing could be more

pleasant than the shade of the acacia, nothing more striking than the

abundance of bloom of the Abyssinian aloe, transforming the dreary

sand-beds into smiling gardens. Green were the tabbes-grass and the

acacias, yellow and red were the aloes, and in such crowded masses,

that I was involuntarily reminded of the splendour of the tulip beds

of the Netherlands; but here gardens lay in the midst of a waste of

gloomy black stone. One special charm of a desert journey is that it

is full of contrasts, that it brings close together dearth and plenty,

death and life; it opens the eyes of the traveller to the minutest

benefits of nature, and demonstrates how every enjoyment is allied to

a corresponding deprivation. Richly laden with treasures I returned to

Singat, where I remained until the 21st of September, and during my

stay I had once again repeated opportunities of studying my old

friends the people of Suakin in their domestic relations.

The coast lands on both sides of the Red Sea offer a striking likeness

to each other, which does not consist in physical resemblances alone.

The people are the same in feeling and in manners, however much the

true Ethiopians, such as the Bishareen, Hadendoa, and Beni-Ammer, may

differ in language and descent from the true Arabs; I say from the

_true_ Arabs, because the term Arab has been at times too

indiscriminately applied, and ought to be limited to the nomads in

Arabia, as distinguished from the settlers. On both coasts the

inhabitants follow the same character of life. They are people of the

deserts, wandering shepherds, and procure whatever corn they may

require from external sources. Even the town life of the Arabs is

essentially half a camp life. As a collateral illustration of this I

may remark that to this day in Malta, where an Arab colony has reached

as high a degree of civilisation as ever yet it has attained, the

small towns, which are inhabited by this active little community, are

called by the very same designations as elsewhere belong to the nomad

encampments in the desert. Half Suakin is like a desert camp, and for

this reason I have called its inhabitants town Bedouins.

[Sidenote: TOWN BEDOUINS.]

These town Bedouins are people whose only distinction from the

Bedouins of the mountains is that their dress almost always is of a

spotless white; the true sons of the desert, in consequence of their

continual camp life, have long toned down the colour of their single

garment, never washed, to a brownish-grey, quite in harmony with the

general hue of the surrounding country. Many very beautiful faces,

perfectly regular in feature, are to be found amongst these swarthy

Bedouins, whilst a wonderful dignity and elegance mark their

movements. Like the inhabitants of Hedjas and Yemen they chew tobacco,

and find recreation in various amusements which are unknown to the

mountain Bedouins. All alike, however, have in common the same single

aim of existence: to do as little as possible, to sleep much, to drink

goats’ milk, to eat sheep’s flesh, and finally to scrape together all

the Maria Theresa dollars that they can; the latter is a matter of

some difficulty, on account of their natural idleness. Black female

slaves instead of asses, which in Suakin would cost too much to feed,

are indispensable to them for carrying water from the well to the

town. Whoever possesses fifty dollars in his bag and has one slave

besides his water-bearer, is quite a magnate, and spends much labour

in the profuse adornment of his hair. When he is not sleeping, that is

to say, in the cool hours of the morning and evening, he takes his

walk, always bareheaded and with high-towering locks, here and there

on the road joining in a conversation or conferring the favours of his

weighty counsel. When it becomes too hot in Suakin, and the goats give

no more milk, after the last weed has been devoured, and the last

tundup (sodada) eaten to the roots by the camels, they leave the

cob-webbed thorn hedges of their farms, pack together the acacia-rods

and date-mats, the materials of the tent, and withdraw to the mountain

pastures, which they retain by ancestral right. After them follow the

Turkish soldiers, who roam through the valleys, switching their

kurbatch, and proceed to collect the taxes levied in proportion to the

number of cattle. The services of these officials in return are

enlisted to re-capture any camel stealers who may be seeking to escape

to the remote solitudes of the mountains.

On the 21st of September I resumed my journey towards the Nile, a

further distance of 175 miles. On the way my little party, which,

besides the camel drivers, consisted of only a native of Berber and a

dog which I had brought from Europe, was increased by falling in with

two young pilgrims on their way from Mecca. I was unable to complete

my proper retinue until I should reach Khartoom, since the men who had

offered me their services in Egypt appeared so weakly that I

considered them unfit for undertaking any journey into Central Africa.

The addition therefore of these two blacks for the approaching march

of sixteen days through mountain solitudes was very welcome. Their

armour consisted of a Turkish sabre, and this, together with my gun,

seemed completely sufficient protection against the natives, whom Sir

Samuel Baker a few years before had so successfully mastered with the

help of an umbrella, that a considerable number of them voluntarily

laid down their arms. The vigilance of the dog was a security against

any nocturnal attack, and indeed, at two different times he had given

warning to my little caravan just at the right time.

[Sidenote: RIVAL WIVES.]

Less welcome to me was the company of a disagreeable old fanatic, who,

followed by two wives, was on his return journey from the Holy City of

the East to his home in the far west. He was a priest from Kano in

Haussa, and when he told of the wonders of the world which he had seen

on his long journeys, I could always set him right, having really seen

infinitely more than he had. I completely non-plussed him by my

geographical knowledge of the Western Soudan, and after the details

which I gave of that country, he was, however reluctantly, at last

obliged to believe that I had actually been there. But any friendship

between us was rendered impossible by the constant noise and

contention caused by his wives. All amicable relations came utterly to

an end when I found myself driven as I did to come forward as the

champion of the oppressed. Of the priest’s two wives, one had

faithfully followed her husband from his home, and now saw herself

supplanted by the other, whom the priest had married at the tomb of

the Prophet. The fellow had begun to impose on his first wife in the

most shameful manner by the withdrawal of every choice morsel and of

every harmless indulgence; consequently the two women were continually

quarrelling, and literally laid on to each other by the hair. The man

himself always took the part of the new wife, and cruelly maltreated

the old. At last it became too much for me to be the daily witness of

such revolting scenes, and I took the old sinner to task, and tried to

inculcate in him due ideas of woman’s rights and dignity, so that he

could tell his countrymen in Haussa what we thought on such matters.

The indifferent camel drivers and the still more indifferent camels,

both alike as unmoved as the black rocks in their solemn stateliness,

alone surveyed this little tragedy. Whoever has to travel through

deserts should endeavour to be free from such rabble and useless

retinue. A large company is troublesome on account of the scarcity of

shade, since there is not always time at the halting-places to pitch a

tent, and one must avail himself of the few larger trees which exist

in the valleys.

A stiff ascent of the road at a short distance from Singat led

westwards to the water-shed between the Nile and the Red Sea. The

elevated pass is rather to the rear of the defiles on the Suakin side.

We then descended to a very broad wady full of pasture, called

O-Mareg, which was a third summer retreat for the natives of Suakin.

In the middle of a green valley; two miles broad, some fifty tents

were erected, all under the surveillance of a Turkish captain with

some soldiers to look after the interests of the Government. Great

herds of camels, cows, sheep, and goats, and amongst them several

hundreds of asses, were grazing in every direction. The Wady O-Mareg

does not form, as might be expected, a tributary of the great

mountain-river Langeb, which at its recurring period joins the Barka,

but takes its course direct to the Atbara, as do all the larger

water-courses of the ensuing road.

In consequence of the repeated storms of rain, at the time of my

journey there was water in nearly all the valleys, and everywhere

there was abundance of pasture for the camels. The drivers accordingly

chose a more direct road running to the south of the ordinary route of

the caravans. This enabled me to fill up my map with many new details.

As a general rule the drivers followed the rule of never, if possible,

encountering the native shepherds on the road. Although they were of

the same race, they feared the conflicts which were frequently

unavoidable in the neighbourhood of any wells. I was not surprised at

their timidity, as I had myself experienced some difficulty in my

former tour.

Having crossed the third chain, we reached the great wady Amet, which

is bounded on the north by Mount O-Kurr, a colossal mass visible as a

landmark in the west for a whole day’s journey. The predominating

rocks are greenstone in several varieties, although beautiful

serpentine is far from infrequent. In one part of the valley rises a

homogeneous mass of splendid porphyry nearly 1000 feet in height,

brilliantly marked on its surface with veins of Indian red. From the

prevaence in these mountains of greenstone, which no doubt often

contains a grass-green stratum, the conclusion must not be drawn that

green is at all a prevailing colour of the walls of rock. This is by

no means the case; indeed, nearly all kinds of rock, however diverse

they may appear when broken, are covered externally with an uniform

dark brown, which obliterates all distinctive shades. In its interior

the greenstone is unpolished and of bright colour. A superficial

accretion, the cause of which remains hitherto unexplained, forms

itself on every fragment and gives a coating about a millimeter thick,

in colour not unlike a bright brown cake of chocolate.

[Sidenote: BISHAREEN GOATS AND SHEEP.]

In Wady Amet we lighted upon some sorghum-fields, which seem to have

been planted out, like those at O-Mareg and Erkoweet, by way of

experiment; but in reality they here represented the whole exertions

of the idle inhabitants of the desert. Some primitive huts, heaped up

in Cyclopean rudeness, bore witness to the stability of this

rendezvous of native shepherds. We were here amply provided with milk

and meat, goats and sheep being alike abundant in the neighbouring

valleys. Camel-breeding is not carried on here so much as in the

northern parts of Etbai, as the whole district of the Bishareen

between the Nile and the sea is called; the breeders avoiding the

proximity of the great roads through fear of the foraging and

reprisals of the military.

The goats of the country form a small race of their own and belong to

the comprehensive variety which is called the Ethiopian. Differing

from those of the Nile valley, they are again found among all the

nomad people in the interior; the goats of the Dinka being a larger

kind of the same character. The Ethiopian goat may be reckoned among

the most agile and elegant of the race, and it might be called the

climbing goat, since it prefers to feed on the young shoots of the

acacia, and for that purpose often climbs up the slanting stems or

low-growing branches. A large flock occasionally groups itself round a

tree with pendant branches: in that case, the animals are rarely seen

in any other position than standing upright on their hind legs, and

give at a distance an impression that they must be a crowd of men.

Others may be observed in grotesque attitudes, with legs straddling,

hanging in mid-air, and weighing down the boughs of an acacia.

[Illustration: A Bishareen Sheep.]

The Bishareen keep larger flocks of sheep than of goats; the breed is

very peculiar, marked by distinctions which might almost constitute a

nationality. The Etbai race is closely allied to the thick-tailed

species in all general characteristics, but distinguished by the

lissome condition of its long and bushy tail. The fleece is hardly

worthy of being called wool at all, for it simply consists of rather

long straight hair. Almost all are perfectly white, except (and this

is the chief mark of distinction in the species) on the ancles and

mouth, which are covered with black hair. The usual price in the

country for such sheep never exceeds a Maria Theresa dollar (four

shillings), whilst young lambs cost but half this sum. Cattle are

found only in the environs of Suakin and on the road to Taka, lying

further south than the one on which we travelled. On the route which

we took, in consequence of the smaller rainfall, the pasture necessary

for their maintenance is not permanent throughout the year, like it is

in the lands adjacent to the Barka basin. In the next district we

crossed a high level, intersected by numerous water-courses deeply

worn amidst the stones and rubble. The most considerable of all these

water-courses periodically flowing to the south-west, was the Wady

Arab. The dry bed of this was bounded by shelving banks from 40 to 50

feet in height, and the ascent was steep enough to demand no small

exertion from our laden camels.

[Sidenote: SCHWEINFURTHIA.]

Here grew in great abundance the plant, a species of Scrophulariaceæ,

to which my own name had been assigned (_Schweinfurthia pterosperma_).

It met me as a greeting from my distant home. In itself it is but an

insignificant little weed, but upon its discovery, Alexander Braun,

the celebrated professor of the University of Berlin, had named it in

my honour—a little token of remembrance, which, according to the

tribute of Linnæus, may be more lasting than any memorial in brass or

marble.

A hollow, as of a saddle-seat, between the mountains led us over the

chain, unbroken by a pass, of the fourth of the parallel mountain

ridges which, with many branches, traverse this part of Africa. To the

right on the north we left Mount Wowinte and the peak of Badab in

which it culminates at an altitude of 5000 feet. The road then

descended into the wide plain spreading to the west of this height,

where a magnificent panorama opened to the view. Next we reached the

Wady Habohb, a watercourse of which the breadth was about 400 feet.

Proceeding across Wady Kokreb, two miles wide, we arrived at length at

the equally wide Wady Yumga. By this time we were on the next line of

the mountain range, in which is situated the much frequented well of

Koway, a rendezvous for all the nomads who wander in the neighbouring

localities. Here, by order of the great Sheikh of the Hadendoa, a

tribute, sanctioned by the Egyptian Government, is levied on every

caravan that passes.

My lazy camel drivers used every available opportunity to prolong the

duration of the journey. For my part I was indifferent to this, as I

had time at my disposal, and my enjoyment of the flora fully occupied

me; my companions, however, were not so patient. They longed for their

cherished Nile to put an end to this camp-life in dreary deserts. At

length even my own forbearance was exhausted; the excuses became

intolerable: at one time the camels had run away, at another they

wanted food, so that it grew up to a regular fight between us four and

the dozen Bedouins who were conducting us. Some sticks, the single

Turkish sabre, and an indestructible pipe tube, which I swung in my

hand, were our only weapons, but they sufficed to turn the victory to

our side. My tube smashed a number of patriarchal shepherd staves, and

thus an end was put to the eternal halts and feeds, and we went on

towards the west at a better pace. I thought of the proverb that the

European in India either learns patience or loses it.

As we followed the Wady Laemeb with the water of its channel now

replaced by verdure, we come to O-Fik, the last mountain on the route,

beyond which a desert, unrefreshed by a single spring, extends as far

as the Nile valley. The last well was that of O-Baek. We lighted here

upon some Bishareen families, who were staying temporarily with their

flocks in the neighbourhood of the well, and were accustomed after the

first rain to sow a considerable piece of ground with sorghum. Amongst

the men may be observed expressive features, well developed, unlike

ours, yet less unlike them than the other inhabitants of the Nile

valley. But more frightful creatures than the women of these nomads

there surely cannot be on earth. Of course I speak only of those who

have passed the spring-time of their life. They are lean beyond all

conception, and as haggard as their goats would be if shorn of their

hair, which alone gives any roundness to their gaunt frames. There is

nothing about them even of that natural delicacy of many savages which

makes the children of the desert appear like the gazelle, which is

clean, though it never bathes. Physically and morally they are

loathsome; toothless, mangy, inquisitive, and chattering; in a word,

they are the very incorporation of the infirmities of senility.

From this place it required an energetic march of twenty leagues to

reach the first well on the confines of the Nile-valley. The road, now

formed by numerous pathways running closely side by side like

cattle-ruts, crossed a great boulder flat in a W.S.W. direction. The

pack-camels proceeded side by side in phalanx, as upon the open lands

they rarely march in single file. There were sandy water-courses ever

and again intersecting our way, and groups of hills meeting the eye in

the horizon.

[Illustration: Aboo-Odfa.]

[Sidenote: MONUMENT OF NATURE.]

On leaving O-Baek we had next to traverse the plains extending to the

west of the wells; formed of the finest quicksand, blown up into hills

often as high as a house, these sands were a considerable impediment

to the camels. From the dreary waste of the plain with its loose black

rocks, jutted up a solitary block of granite, to which the Bedouins

give the suggestive name of “Eremit.” An hour’s journey further on

there appeared, above the plain by the right of the road, another

isolated mass of granite, one of those landmarks visible from afar,

which, after the weariness of the desert journey, is ever greeted

gratefully by the eye of the long-tried traveller. It is a natural

stone obelisk, 35 feet high, in its singular shape resembling an

inverted pear or fig. The block is narrow at the base, and evidently

in the course of time has been worn away by the action of the sand as

it has been driven by the wind.[5] This monument, the unhewn

production of nature itself, is called by the natives Aboo-Odfa, Odfa

being the name of a saddle covered with a canopy which is used for

women on the camel. Smaller blocks of similar conformation are not

unfrequently met with at other parts of the road.

On the grassy bottom of Aboo-Kolod, where, in consequence of the late

rain, great pools had formed themselves, we made our last night camp

but one. The slopes had all the characteristics of being on the level

of the Nile at Berber, whilst the remainder of the road again ascends.

The last wady is Aboo-Selem; it was at that time one unbroken

sorghum-field, its fruitful soil was already cultivated by the

industrious inhabitants of the Nile valley, although the recurrence of

the rain would permit the culture only at intervals. At length on the

7th of October we entered the town of Berber. Without loss of time I

found a boat on which to continue my journey to Khartoom.

Whilst I encamped at Berber, pending my embarkation on the Nile, I had

been unconsciously put into a position of some jeopardy. The native of

Dongola who accompanied me as my servant, in order to find the safest

place he could to secure the prohibited wares of a Greek merchant from

the eyes of the police, had, without my knowledge, concealed under my

tent a considerable quantity of gunpowder and other explosive

materials. Whilst the fellow was away on a visit to town, I had

unsuspiciously kindled a fire on the loose sandy soil, in order to

perform my cooking operations, little dreaming of the peril which

happily I escaped.

[Sidenote: HOSPITALITY.]

My old acquaintance, M. Lafargue, who was settled in Berber as a

merchant and presided over the French Vice-consulate, himself an

experienced traveller on the Upper Nile, received me with that hearty

hospitality which many other desert wanderers have proved besides

myself. Sir Samuel Baker aptly compares such receptions to the oasis

in the desert. No necessity of letters of introduction here as with us

in Europe; no hollow forms of speech, exchanging courtesies which

perchance mean the very reverse; no empty compliment of at best a

tedious dinner; but here in Egypt the people receive us with free and

genial amiability, all Europeans are fellow citizens and everything is

true and hearty. “What pleases me the most is the ease with which you

travel in this country; you come, you go, you return again, as though

it were a walk.” Such were M. Lafargue’s cordial words to me. We

parted well pleased with one another: I shall not see him again.

About the last part of the journey to Khartoom, which embraces the

passage up the Nile, and which is sufficiently well known by the

descriptions of other travellers, I have nothing new to relate. By the

complete failure of wind, much of this portion of my journey was so

exceptionally prolonged, that it took sixteen days to accomplish the

whole. For the first part of the voyage, as far as Shendy and Matamma,

the only considerable towns in this district, the shore offered

nothing attractive. It reminded me of the Egyptian valley of the Nile

only in two places; the mouth of the Atbara, and one spot where the

renowned pyramids of Meroe formed a noble background.

Matamma is a populous town, but extremely slow and dull. The

buildings, constructed of Nile earth, are insignificant in themselves,

and irregularly crowded together in a mass like huge ant-hills; not a

single tree affords its shade to the dreary streets, which are filthy

with dirt.

The _ennui_ and the calm which obliged us to lay to here, suggested

all sorts of unprofitable vagaries to my servant Arbab. He received

from me part of his wages, and took a wife on the spot from amongst

the circle of his kinsfolk. The bride, two days afterwards, was given

back to herself and her relations, to await indefinitely, for a year

and a day, the expected return of her husband. Arbab had already been

several times married in Khartoom; and at every return he repeated the

same usual, one may almost say, the becoming custom.

The second half of the Nile voyage was, however, rich in the charms of

scenery. This is especially applicable to the views afforded by the

river islands. These islands are so many throughout the whole extent

of the sixth cataract, between the island of Marnad and the lofty

mountain-island of Rowyan, that no one pretends to know their precise

number, and the sailors call them, in consequence, the ninety-nine

islands. This excursion offers to the traveller a most attractive

prospect, and the landscapes on shore afford a treat which no other

river voyage could surpass. Splendid groups of acacias, in three

varieties, with groves of the holy-thorn, overgrown by the hanging

foliage of graceful climbers, made the profusion of islands set in the

surface of the water appear like bright-green luxuriant and gay

tangles. Wildly romantic, on the contrary, reminding one of the

Binger-loch, are the valley-straits of Sablook, where the Nile,

narrowed to a small mountain stream, flows between high bare granite

walls which rise some hundred feet.

So much the more surprising appeared the breadth which the Nile

exhibits above this cataract, where it displays itself in a majesty

which it has long lost in Egypt. Below their confluence, the waters of

the Blue and the White Nile are distinctly visible many miles apart.

It is highly probable that at certain times the level of the streams

might show a difference of several feet; the proposed establishment of

a Nilometer should therefore take place below the confluence, in order

that with the help of the telegraph accurate intelligence of its

condition might be remitted to Cairo.

[Sidenote: PITIABLE CONDITION OF NUBIANS.]

In the Nubian Nile-valley all charm is gone. Extremely wretched is the

aspect of the country, and equally pitiable are its present social

conditions. In the course of the last ten years, as a consequence,

first, of the increased taxation, and secondly, of the diminished

production, matters have continually become worse and worse. To the

cursory glance of a traveller only a small proportion of this

deep-rooted misery may be disclosed; he may perceive the consequences,

without being able to assign the reasons; and from the contradictory

statements of the inhabitants, he can hardly form a clear idea of the

real condition of the country. On the other hand, the complaints of

the people give him an incomplete representation of the circumstances,

unless he at the same time takes notice of the objections which the

Government appears justified in raising against them. Only a thorough

knowledge of the country combined with local study would put him in a

position to form an opinion. In spite of everything, the fact remains

that the culture of the soil is declining, that scarcity is everywhere

on the increase, and that distress is consequently more frequent. In

the last two months of this year’s harvest, the market price of a

rup[6] of sorghum-corn had risen to a Maria Theresa dollar. Three

years before, large villages had been pointed out to me, lying

completely deserted on account of the emigration of the inhabitants,

and now again similar evidence of distress was forced upon my notice.

In the district between Damer and Shendy, the population seemed

utterly scared at the increasing emigrations. The unmarried men go to

Khartoom in order to be enlisted as so-called soldiers by the

merchants on the Upper Nile. The elder people, on the other hand,

leave their culture, and with a few sheep or goats endeavour to lead a

meagre nomad life as shepherds in the steppes and deserts.

On the 1st of November, at midday, we at last reached Khartoom, and

landed on the bank, which was all alive with hundreds of boats. The

German Vice-consul, Herr Duisberg, who had shown me so much kindness

at the time of my former visit, again received me most hospitably. In

his elegant and commodious house, I had every opportunity for rest and

refreshment in anticipation of my coming labours.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] These appear to belong to the same species which

Wellsted (‘Travels to the City of the Caliphs,’ vol. ii.

p. 286) observed on the island of Socotra and (‘Travels in

Arabia,’ vol. ii. p. 449) on the south coast of Arabia.

[4] The accompanying plate gives a faithful representation

of the stiff forms of the dracænæ, surrounded by the still

more rigid complications of rocks in the height of the

pass. In the illustration, besides the dracæna, may be seen

the Kolkwal-euphorbiæ, and in the right hand corner the

Caraïb.

[5] The sketch on the preceding page is taken carefully

from nature.

[6] The rup is a measure equal in weight to seven and a

half litres, or about five oka, and containing under two

English gallons.