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. Hornblende. 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.
Of the character of the buildings, the arrangements and mode of life
in the settlements of the Khartoomers, I had been able from hearsay to
form a very imperfect idea. My curiosity was therefore very
considerably awakened as our caravan approached the Seriba of Ghattas.
Half a league from the place we came to a halt in order to give the
customary warning by firing a salute, and without farther delay
started afresh. Mounted on a donkey, and surrounded by my attendants,
I went at the head of the _cortége_. All round the settlement for some
distance the land is entirely cultivated, and the view as we proceeded
was only broken by large trees dotted here and there, which in their
summer verdure stood out in charming contrast to the cheerless grey of
the desert steppe. Soon rising from the plain appeared the tops of the
conical huts embracing nearly the whole horizon. I looked in vain for
either fortifications, walls, bastions, or watch-towers, with which I
had imagined that a Khartoomer’s Seriba must be provided. In fact,
there was hardly anything to distinguish it from any of the villages
of the Dinka which are scattered over the cultivated flats.
[Sidenote: RECEPTION AT GHATTAS’S SERIBA.]
A motley crowd, relieved by many a bright bit of colour, presented
itself and formed a lively spectacle such as was scarcely to be
expected to break in upon the monotony of an African landscape. We
were received with a rattling salute from a number of rusty rifles,
and there was every disposition to do the honours of our arrival in a
becoming manner. Elegantly attired in an Oriental costume, Ghattas’s
agent approached with the gestures of welcome, and proceeded to
conduct me to the hut which for some weeks already had been prepared
for my reception. For the first time I now observed that the area in
the centre of the huts was surrounded by a lofty square palisade;
through the narrow gateway of this, with lowered banners and amidst
the sound of gongs and kettle-drums, our cavalcade passed on.
With this chief Seriba are associated five smaller settlements in the
adjoining Bongo country, and four more in remoter spots. It lies on
the border-lines of the three races, the Dinka, the Dyoor, and the
Bongo. From an insignificant beginning it had, in the course of
thirteen years, increased to its present importance. A number of
Gellahba, Nubian, and other merchants, had taken up their abode on
large estates within its precincts; and here it was that they
completed their purchases of slaves in order to carry them on to
Darfur and Kordofan. The garrison was composed almost exclusively of
natives of Dongola; there were, however, a few Sheigeah and men of
Kordofan among them, and these, including the numerous _employés_ of
Ghattas, made the resident armed force not much under 250 men. To
these should be added some hundreds of slaves reserved for the market,
or divided as part of their pay amongst the soldiers, and several
hundreds more, male and female, who are in actual service. The
aggregate population therefore of this establishment almost equals
that of a small town, and amounts to at least 1000 souls.
For two miles round the Seriba the land is partitioned into fields.
Enclosed by dense bush forests, of which the trees rarely exceed forty
feet in height, this wide expanse is industriously tilled by the
natives who have settled in the vicinity, and furnishes the greater
part of the annual supply of sorghum necessary for the garrison.
Numerous little villages belonging to the three adjoining people are
scattered all about, the fertility of the soil, so much above the
average of the district, causing the proximity to the settlement to be
held in high estimation. The surface-soil above the iron ore has a
depth of three to four feet. The extreme productiveness of the
luxuriant tropics is well exemplified in these fields, which for
thirteen years have undergone continual tillage without once lying
fallow and with no other manuring but what is afforded by the uprooted
weeds. A like luxuriance is characteristic of the forests, which year
after year, from the immediate vicinity, continue to supply the
spreading colony with abundance of fuel.
In the rainy season the place is surrounded by pools, which disappear
completely during the winter months; parts of the soil in and about
the fields become for the time quite marshy, and at intervals large
tracts of the lower steppes, for miles together, are little better
than swamps. The Seriba is not elevated more than 100 feet above the
mean level of the Gazelle, but in spite of everything the climate is
far more salubrious and enjoyable than in many districts of the
Egyptian Soudan. This may partly be accounted for by the fact that
very few domestic animals are kept, so that the air is uninfected by
their carcases, whilst the reverse is generally the case in the large
market towns of the Soudan. Camels, as I have said, are never seen;
horses and mules are only used as signs of special luxury on the part
of the Seriba authorities; the ass alone manages to drag out a
precarious existence in the unfavourable climate, and to defy the fate
which has hitherto attended all efforts for its acclimatisation.
Fevers indeed are common, though they rarely carry off new comers.
Hitherto but few white men have come to make experience of the climate
in this portion of Africa; and up to the time of my sojourn the visits
of either Turks or Egyptians had been almost as rare.
[Sidenote: UNREMUNERATIVE IVORY TRAFFIC.]
The district between Ghattas’s six Seribas in the northern Bongo
country and immediately under his authority, extends over an area of
about 200 square miles, of which at least 45 miles are under
cultivation. The total population, to judge by the number of huts and
by the bearers stationed in different parts, can hardly amount to much
less than 12,000. This domain, worth millions of pounds were it
situate in Europe, might, I believe, at any time be bought from its
owner for 20,000 dollars: and this I mention as a proof of how small
is the profit actually yielded by these settlements, which have been
started by so magnificent a spirit of enterprise. I could show by
reliable statistics that in some years the returns from the ivory have
fallen far short of the expenditure. The year of my arrival may
perhaps be considered as an average season, and in this the ivory sent
to Khartoom realised scarcely 10,000 Maria Theresa dollars. The
expenses of keeping up two or three well-manned boats, so as to insure
uninterrupted intercourse with Khartoom, are considerable, while from
any traffic in slaves the owner of the Seriba has little to expect. In
one way, however, slaves do occasionally contribute a secondary profit
to the expeditions. In times when hostilities break out and the proper
stores from Khartoom cannot be obtained, the agents are induced to
part with whatever slaves they have to the Gellahba for a mere
bagatelle; they exchange them for calico or anything else they can
get, and make use of the proceeds to pay the soldiers.
When affairs are prospering, a month’s pay for a soldier is five Maria
Theresa dollars. One of the great points with the agents is to spare
the merchant any outlay of ready money: he therefore, as often as he
can, pays the mercenaries in goods, charging them exorbitant prices
for any articles obtained from his stores; on the other hand, he makes
this up to them in a measure by allowing them a share in the plunder
of slaves or of cattle; the soldiers in their turn can dispose of what
booty they may get, all negotiations being generally conducted by the
regular slave-dealers. It is very seldom that the men are wary enough
to keep independent of the agent in their requirements, or are able,
even in the course of many years, to lay by in Khartoom any
considerable amount of money. The majority are pledged beforehand to
continual service; nevertheless not unfrequently they contrive to
escape and, without any intimation, join the company of some
competitor, who (in the lawless condition of the country) quietly
scorns all efforts to reclaim them. Such cases as these inevitably
give rise to repeated contentions between the various Seribas. The
annual cattle-plunder, moreover, does not nearly suffice either to
attract or adequately to repay the hard services of the Nubian
soldier, nor does it go far to remunerate the native bearers, who
perform all the transport from the Niam-niam countries to the river.
All matters of commerce even in these remote regions are ostensibly
conducted in a legitimate mercantile way. For the opening of the ivory
traffic with the Niam-niam, as well as for the purpose of buying
supplies for the people during expeditions which often last six or
seven months, huge bars of copper and beads of every description have
to be provided. These are dear, on account of the commission which is
paid in Alexandria. The bearers, it is true, are subject with the
submission of serfs to the authorities at the Seriba; but as an
encouragement to them in their work they can claim a stipulated
proportion of the goods, and this in the course of the year
constitutes no unimportant addition to the outlay.
[Sidenote: IVORY TRADE.]
Altogether the Upper Nile traffic was carried on at great pecuniary
risk, and its prospects were far from favourable. As I saw it, it was
dependent for any amount of success upon the plunder which was made
alike upon cattle and upon men, and upon the levies of corn and
provisions which were exacted from the natives. Without the aid of the
Nubian soldiers the expeditions could not be secure. These soldiers
only come to escape the rigorousness of the Egyptian Government in
their own land; they participate in the profits, and yet without them
the monopoly could not be maintained. The Government could avail
nothing to protect a legal business; neither could any European
enterprise hope, for many successive years, to be able to work a
profitable trade.
The few Europeans who ever really opened transactions in these
countries did indeed pay their people in hard cash, and refused to
have anything to do either with the slave trade or cattle-stealing,
limiting their operations exclusively to the purchase of ivory and to
elephant-hunting in the districts adjacent to their settlements. Just
as might be expected, however, they were soon compelled to withdraw
from their undertaking—either because, on the one hand, the stock of
ivory in their immediate vicinity was exhausted, or, on the other,
because they found that they could not compete with the native firms,
who were backed by the illegal means I have mentioned. Since their
withdrawal, no new speculator has attempted to follow in their steps;
and as year by year the Khartoom trade loses its European
representatives, it appears as though, in course of time, the export
business will pass out of European hands. Nothing will prevent this,
unless some important modifications should occur in the southern
provinces of Egypt. Sanguine of success, Ismail Pasha has projected
the formation of a railway to Khartoom; and, considering the general
aspect of affairs as I have related them, this great undertaking
deserves the unqualified support of all who do not despair of the
ultimate victory of right.
A mere slave when at home, Ghattas’s plenipotentiary, Idrees, was here
an important personage, invested with absolute power, and swaggered
about like an autocrat. By birth a negro, he had not on that account
less influence over the Nubians than any other official—for it is not
according to the law of Islam to allow national enmity to be
antagonistic to personal rank. I was received with all the courtesy
due to my credentials, and for the first few days found myself
literally loaded with presents. Provisions of every sort were placed
at my disposal, whilst my people had free board for a month in
Idrees’s quarters. Two neatly-built huts of moderate size, within the
palisade, were prepared for me, but these were not nearly sufficient
to accommodate me with all my baggage. The actual Seriba, about 200
paces square, was so crammed with huts, that not a spot could be
discovered where it was possible to erect a more spacious residence.
Outside the enclosure, where the buildings were more scattered over
the fields, I was not permitted to lodge. I was told how it had
happened, and was likely to happen again, that the natives skulked
about at night and murdered people in their sleep. This statement I
was forced, whether I would or not, to accept, and temporarily, at all
events, to content myself with my cramped abode, eighteen feet across.
[Sidenote: ACCOMMODATION IN THE SERIBA.]
The huts are built of bamboo and straw; the conical roof rests on a
kind of basket-work of bamboo, which is daubed inside with clay, in a
way that is imitated from the almost petrified erections of the white
ants. The pagan negroes lavish far more care upon their huts than the
Mohammedan inhabitants of the Soudan, who, although the bamboo grows
so abundantly among them, do not succeed in giving their “tokkuls”
nearly so much symmetry. Here they possess the art of erecting roofs
which are perfectly water-tight, and which are so light that they do
not require heavy posts to hold them together on the walls. The
covering for the roof is formed, in the first place upon the ground,
with handfuls of stalks laid side by side and knotted together. These
are afterwards plaited into long strips, which are then laid one above
the other, like the flounces of a lady’s dress—a comparison which is
further the more appropriate, because the structure of the frame-work
is exactly like a hooped petticoat.
I would not allow the walls of the tokkul, in which I generally passed
my time, to be cemented with clay, partly because I liked the airiness
of the basket-work, and partly because light was necessary for my
daily occupations. There seemed to me two other advantages—first, on
dry days, my goods would more rapidly recover the effect of the wet to
which they had been exposed; and, secondly, I should be less plagued
with rats than those who occupied the plastered huts. In stormy
weather, it is true, I had to suffer a certain amount of discomfort.
To increase my storage-room I contrived some shelves and stands out of
bamboo-canes; I had also brought from Khartoom some deal planks,
expressly for the manufacture of the tables which were necessary for
my botanical pursuits. A traveller who is in possession of bamboos,
cow-hide, bladder, and clay, will find himself not very inadequately
supplied with representatives of nearly all the building materials of
Europe.
My excursions about the neighbourhood soon began, and these, with the
arrangement of my daily collections, occupied the greater part of my
time. In unfailing good health, I passed the first few weeks in a
transport of joy, literally enraptured by the unrivalled loveliness of
nature. The early rains had commenced, and were clothing all the
park-like scenery, meadows, trees, and shrubs, with the verdure of
spring. Emulating the tulips and hyacinths of our own gardens, sprang
up everywhere splendid bulbous plants; whilst amongst the fresh
foliage gleamed blossoms of the gayest hue. The April rains are not
continuous, but nevertheless, trees and underwood were all in bloom,
and the grass was like a lawn for smoothness. In Tropical Africa,
after long continuance of rain, the grass may be considered more as a
defect than an ornament in the landscape: the obstructions which it
interposes to the view of the traveller considerably mar his enjoyment
of the scenery; but throughout the period of the early rains its
growth is remarkably slow, and it takes some months to attain a height
sufficient to conceal the numerous flowering weeds and bulbs which
display their blossoms at the same season.
The territory of the Dinka includes nearly the whole low ground,
extending right away to the Gazelle. It is a vast plain of dark
alluvial clay, of which the uniformity is not broken by a single hill
or mass of rock, any tracts of forest being of very limited extent. As
they approach the districts of the Bongo and the Dyoor, the Dinka
steppes lose much of that park-like aspect which they here present.
Indeed, very marked is the contrast in the character of the scenery
which appears on entering those districts; for to the very borders of
the Dinka reaches that enormous table-land of ferruginous soil which,
unbroken except by gentle undulations or by isolated mounds of gneiss,
gradually ascends to the Equator. This plain appears to cover the
greater part of the centre of the continent, even if it does not
extend as far as Benguela and the shores of the Niger. From my own
experience, I can certify that the general geological features of the
soil, as exhibited as far south as the latitude of 4°, are identical
with those which were conspicuous here, where the latitude was between
7° and 8° N.
[Sidenote: THE RIVER TONDY.]
At the end of a fortnight I made a trip to the south-east, the first
of a series of excursions to Ghattas’s different Seribas, which lay
four or five leagues apart. On this tour I learnt something of the
river Tondy, on which is established the Seriba known as Addai. The
river was now at its lowest level, and was flowing north-east in a
tolerably rapid current, between precipitous banks fifteen feet in
height. In depth it varied from four to seven feet, and it was about
thirty feet in breadth; in the rainy season, however, for three miles,
the adjacent steppes are covered with its floods, which are always
very prolific in fish. Before the Tondy joins the Gazelle, as it does
in the district of the Nueir, it spreads irregularly over the
low-lying country and leaves its shores quite undefined. In this way
it forms a number of swamps, all but inaccessible, to which the Dinka,
whenever they are threatened by plundering excursions from the
Seribas, lose no time in driving their herds.
Although the Tondy is nearly as long as the Dyoor, it is very inferior
in its volume of water. Like several of the less important rivers of
this region, it flows for a long distance without any appreciable
increase either in size or speed. These streams intersect the country
and cut it up into narrow sections, which are rarely designated on the
maps.
The second of the Seribas which I visited was called Geer, and was
just four leagues to the south of the chief settlement. It was
surrounded by bamboo-jungles, and was situated in a prolific
corn-valley, watered by a tributary of the Tondy. It contained about
800 huts, occupied by Bongo, who had settled there.
The road to Geer, nearly all the way, was over a firm, rocky soil,
through bush forests, swarming with wart-hogs (_Phacochærus_). About
three-quarters of a league on the way, stood a dense mass of lofty
trees, not unlike an alder grove. It was traversed by rain-courses,
and surrounded by low swampy steppes, which in the rainy season are
entirely under water. The wood consisted mainly of tall uncariæ and
eugeniæ, 80 feet in height, of which the long, straight stems were
crowned by spreading foliage: it was the first bit of the primæval
forests which fill up the valleys through which flow the rivers of the
Niam-niam. I paid many visits to this interesting spot; by the people
in the Seriba it was termed Genana, the Arabic word for a garden. In
its grateful shade grew dense thickets of red-blossomed melastomaceæ,
intermingled with giant aroideæ (_Amorphophallus_), and bowers of
creepers. The character of the vegetation was in striking contrast to
the other forests of the district, and for the first time reminded me
of the splendour of our northern woods—it was like an enclave of the
luxuriant flora of West Africa, transported to this region of bushes
and steppes.
On the adjacent plains herds of giraffes were very frequently seen. To
bring down one of these giraffes was a matter of but little
difficulty. They pace unconcernedly from bush to bush, taking their
choice amidst the varieties of herbage, and I was surprised to find
that it required half-a-dozen shots before a herd of nearly twenty
could be started into flight; but, once off, there was no gaining upon
them, and, like the fleetest of sailing-vessels, they disappeared on
the horizon. I was on this day treated to the rare delicacy of a
giraffe’s tongue; there was some trouble in finding a dish on which it
could be served, and I suppose that the longest fish-platter would
hardly suffice for the display of this dainty. I had formerly tasted
the flesh in Gallabat, and as I had abundance of beef in the Seriba,
the carcase was distributed between my bearers. Roast giraffe may be
reckoned amongst the better class of game, and is not unlike veal.
Geer provides the whole neighbourhood with bamboos. The African
species (_Bambusa abyssinica_) seems to possess a character superior
to what ordinarily belongs elsewhere to that useful product of the
tropics. It is common on the lower terraces of Abyssinia and in all
the rocky parts of the Upper Nile district, where the climate is
sufficiently moist; it is found generally on river banks, though but
rarely on the open steppes.
[Sidenote: FESTIVAL AT SEED-TIME.]
The canes grow to a height of thirty or forty feet, and the stoutest
specimens that came under my notice were between two and three inches
in diameter. They are not so swollen at the joints as the Chinese and
Indian sorts; but this is an advantage, since they are more easily
split. Even after repeated boiling, the young shoots were never
eatable.
For two nights and a day whilst I was in Geer, the natives were
abandoning themselves to their wild orgies, which now for the first
time I saw in their full unbridled swing. The festival was held to
celebrate the sowing of the crops; and confident in the hope that the
coming season would bring abundant rains, these light-hearted Bongo
anticipated their harvest. For the preparation of their beer they
encroached very lavishly on their present corn stores, quite
indifferent to the fact that for the next two months they would be
reduced to the necessity of grubbing after roots and devouring any
chance bird or even any creeping thing that might come in their way.
Incredible quantities of “legyee” were consumed, so as to raise the
party to the degree of excitement necessary for so prolonged a revel.
In honour of the occasion there was produced a large array of musical
instruments, a detailed account of which shall be given hereafter, but
the confusion of sound beggared the raging of all the elements and
made me marvel as to what music might come to. They danced till their
bodies reeked again with the oil of the butter tree. Had they been
made of india-rubber, their movements could scarcely have been more
elastic; indeed, their skins had all the appearance of gutta-percha.
The whole scene was more like a fantoccini than any diversion of
living beings.
By the end of April the vegetation was so far developed that I might
fairly reckon on a larger botanical collection on a longer excursion.
Accordingly, accompanied by my servants and a few bearers, I set out
towards the west, designing to visit the Seribas belonging to Kurshook
Ali and Agahd, and to explore the River Dyoor. I was everywhere
received most hospitably, and thus had every encouragement to make
similar trips amongst the various Seribas. As a rule I did not produce
my letters of introduction to the agents until the second day, that I
might prove whether my welcome was a mere official service, or was
accorded freely and by good-will. I had never cause to complain: the
agents, one and all, showed me the greatest attention, entertained me
handsomely, and placed at my disposal all that I could desire. Their
courtesy went so far that, although the country was perfectly safe,
they insisted on providing me with a guard of soldiers. In addition to
this, the local governors of the negro villages always escorted my
little caravan from stage to stage. I found that the whole country was
occupied, at intervals of five or six leagues, with settlements of the
Khartoomers, in their palisaded Seribas. The inhabitants interchange
their visits as freely as any gentlemen in Europe.
On the third day after my start all my bearers, who had contracted to
serve me for a sum which would be represented by half-a-crown a day,
deserted; they were afraid, perhaps not without cause, that their
burdens of pickings and pullings would daily increase. This little
incident, for which I was quite prepared, had its effect on the
remainder of my journey. I for my part was perfectly agreeable to
their desertion, for I could obtain gratis as many bearers as I
required. Of course, I had nothing to pay the runaways, and was free
from all charges to bearers for the future. In this I had no
compunction, knowing that I had every right to claim the same
assistance and courtesy that is accorded to any ordinary traveller
amongst the Khartoomers’ Seribas, and to have my baggage conveyed from
one place to another.
My people had glorious times in the Seribas. There was mutton without
stint; and whole animals were slaughtered even for my dogs: to my
hungry Khartoomers it was literally a land flowing with milk and
honey. Reserved for me were all that they considered the greatest
delicacies that Central Africa could produce, and in the way of fruit
and vegetables I could not catalogue the variety that was served, from
the sour Pishamin (_Carpodinus acidus_) to the horse-bean
(_Canavalia_).
[Sidenote: ABOO GUROON.]
This excursion lasted from the 27th of April to the 13th of May. After
leaving the chief Seriba we proceeded for about three leagues to the
north-west, and arrived, first, at the Seriba owned by Abderahman Aboo
Guroon. In 1860 this spot was visited by the Marquis Antinori, who, in
spite of many privations, remained there throughout an entire rainy
season. At that time a French hunter, Alexandra Vayssière, under the
protection of the Dyoor chief, Alwal, with whose sons I made
acquaintance, had founded a small settlement. Vayssière himself, to
whose clever pen the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ is indebted for some
valuable articles on Central Africa, died the same year on the Gazelle
River, falling a victim to a virulent fever. Aboo Guroon was formerly
a servant of Petherick’s, and had faithfully accompanied that
praiseworthy traveller in his earliest endeavours to penetrate the
Bongo country. He had obtained his name, Aboo Guroon (father of
horned-cattle), from his noted courage and love of enterprise, and he
was renowned amongst the traders as the first traveller to the
Niam-niam.
The governors of the Seribas and the leaders of the Nubian expeditions
may be divided into two classes: of these the one are hypocritical
cowards, always saying their prayers, and yet always tyrannical to
their subordinates; the others are avowed robbers. Far preferable,
beyond a doubt, are the latter; they treat those weaker than
themselves with a certain amount of generosity, not to say chivalry;
to this class belonged Aboo Guroon. Close to his Seriba we had to
cross the Molmull stream, which was for a long period represented on
maps as an arm of the Dyoor, but I have proved that it is a collateral
stream, which rises in southern Bongoland. In the rainy season it is
70 feet wide, and is only passable by swimming, but it was now nothing
more than a series of pools, the intervals of which were marked by
patches of gneiss.
Ten leagues further west flows the Dyoor. Our route in that direction
was in every way tiresome. For four leagues and a half we traversed a
barren steppe, without being able to obtain so much as a draught of
water, and the rough clods of clay were a continual impediment. We
halted for the night in a small Seriba of Agahd’s, called Dyoor-Awet.
It lies on the summit of the watershed between the Molmull and the
Dyoor, and from the hill towards the west an extensive view of the
latter river is obtained. Being still somewhat of a novice in Central
African travelling, I resolved, in order to avoid the heat of the day,
to take advantage of the moonlight nights for proceeding on our march.
In the dark, however, my guides and bearers, inexperienced in their
work, lost themselves in such a labyrinth of paths that we were
obliged to halt in an open meadow and make inquiries on all sides for
the proper route. At length we arrived at some little enclosures of
Deemo, a Dyoor chief. The huts were built on the slope of a small
eminence of hornblende, a formation that I never noticed elsewhere to
the south of the Gazelle; it extended as far as the right bank of the
Dyoor, which, now at its lowest condition, was flowing sluggishly
towards the north through steppes about a league in width.
The sandy river-bed was bounded by clay banks, from 20 to 25 feet in
height, the entire thickness of the alluvium of the valley. The
breadth of the bed at this spot was rather more than 400 feet, but at
this season the running water was reduced to 80 feet wide and 4 feet
deep. I was told that a few days previously the water had been up to a
man’s shoulder, and that the stream would not now fall any lower. Ten
days later, on my return, I crossed the river about three-quarters of
a league to the south, and although I found that the whole bed was
covered, yet its depth was not above three or four feet. Heuglin had
crossed the Dyoor at a spot about 20 miles north of where I was, and
on the 8th of April 1863 he found the stream about 300 paces in width,
with a depth varying from one foot to three.
Among the Bongo and Dyoor alike, the river goes by the name of
“Gueddy,” whilst the Niam-niam, in whose territory lies the whole of
its upper course, call it “Sway.” It is ascertained to be one of the
more important tributaries of the system of the White Nile. I found
its source in Mount Baginze, in the eastern portion of the Niam-niam
country, in lat. 5° 35´ N., and in almost the same longitude as that
in which it joins the Gazelle; its main course, omitting the smaller
windings, extends over 350 miles.
[Sidenote: AN APOSTROPHE.]
As we were wading across its clear waters, my servant, Mohammed Ameen,
was suddenly attacked by a sentimental fit of home-sickness. He has
been mentioned before as distinguished by the nickname of “the
swimmer,” and as a former Reis he was always more interested than
anybody else in river-systems and hydrographical questions. Stopping
midway in the channel, as though lost in contemplation, he suddenly
apostrophised the waters: “Yonder lies Khartoom; yonder flows the
Nile. Pass on, O stream, pass on in peace! and bear my greeting to the
dear old Bahr-el-Nil!” An Egyptian would have been too stolid to be
moved like this son of Nubia.
The bush-ranges on the opposite shore were enlivened by numerous herds
of hartebeests and leucotis antelopes. I hurried on in advance of my
caravan, hoping to enjoy a good chase, but my attempt only resulted in
a circuitous ramble and in extreme fatigue. It was not until the
middle of the day that I rejoined my people in a little village of the
Dyoor, and by that time, inexperienced as I was, the heat, the
running, and the fear of losing my way had conspired almost to deprive
me of the use of my senses. The numberless herds that, without making
a stand, continually scampered across my path, still further increased
my bewilderment. I was far onwards on my way back when a flock of
domestic goats, startled by the apparition of a stranger came running
athwart my way. They were of a reddish colour, and, had they been in
the midst of a wilderness, might easily be mistaken for the little
bush antelope (_A. madoqua_), so common in these parts. I was just
about to send a last despairing shot amongst the harmless creatures,
but discovered my mistake betimes. When I afterwards related my
adventure for the entertainment of my people, one of them told a
similar anecdote of a previous traveller, who, however, had actually
shot a goat, and when the enraged owner insisted upon compensation,
could not be induced, even in the face of the _corpus delicti_, to
acknowledge his error. The man who told this had been an eye-witness
of the affair, and described in the liveliest manner the contest that
had raged over the zoological character of the hapless goat.
Rather more than a league from the Dyoor, in an irregular valley
sloping towards the river and surrounded by wooded hills, was
situated, but newly built, the chief settlement of Kurshook Ali.
Khalil, the aged governor, received me most kindly. After the entire
destruction of the former establishment by fire, he had erected in its
place quite a model Seriba. This is depicted in the background of the
accompanying drawing. In front is a majestic khaya-tree, which in
years to come will probably be the sole surviving relic in the
landscape. Several of the most important types of vegetation are also
represented: on the left are the large candelabra-euphorbia and
borassus palms, and on the right appear the little gardenia trees, of
which the fruit resembles the wild pear or the crab-apple; by the side
of these are two deserted white ant-hills.
[Illustration: THE CHIEF SETTLEMENT OF KURSHOOK ALI. A MAJESTIC
KHAYA-TREE.]
Some of my most pleasant reminiscences of African life are connected
with this spot. Here it was that, two years later, after experiencing
the calamity of a fire, I was hospitably received, and passed several
months in hunting over the well-stocked environs. In no other Seriba
did I ever see the same order and cleanliness. The store-houses and
the governor’s dwelling stood alone on an open space within the
palisade; around the exterior, at a considerable distance, were ranged
the huts assigned to the soldiers and other dependants. The
unhealthiness of having a crowd of wretched dwellings huddled
together, the contingent danger of fire amongst so many straw huts,
and the disadvantageous lack of space in case of an attack, all had
their effect in inducing Khalil to make these innovations.
[Sidenote: FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH NIAM-NIAM.]
On my arrival I was surrounded by a bevy of real Niam-niam,[19] who
had been conveyed hither by an expedition lately returned from their
country. They stood and gaped at me and my belongings with far more
curiosity than had been evinced by the stolid natives of the country.
Whilst I was supposed to be listening to the performances of the
resident Bongo on the guitar, it seemed as though these Niam-niam
would never tire of examining my paraphernalia. My watch,
breech-loader, revolver, my clothes, and even my lucifer matches had
to be scrutinised separately. Nothing of equal wonder had crossed
their experience; and what with my white skin and my appearance
altogether, I looked to them like some being from another world.
Amongst the acquaintances that I made here I must not forget to
mention a speculative slave-trader from Tunis, who was now making a
second journey over Darfoor. He could speak a little French, and, to
the astonishment of every one, he could read the names upon my maps.
He was the most refined of his calibre that I had ever met, and to me
was a sort of _deus ex machinâ_. Whenever I saw him I had always a
vague feeling that he must be some distinguished explorator in
disguise—perhaps a Burton or a Rohlfs. Our complexions were alike,
our education had been alike, and so in these distant regions we met
like fellow-countrymen. In an unguarded moment I grasped his hand,
drew him aside, and begged him privately to tell me who he was and
where he came from. His loud laugh of surprise at my inquiry was quite
enough, and in an instant completely dispelled any illusion on my
part.
The fact of meeting a slave-trader from Tunis in this spot so
completely remote corroborates the imputation of an unexpected extent
of the slave trade in Africa. This polished Tunisian was, to say the
least, in many respects superior to the adventurers who ordinarily
come from Darfoor and Kordofan. Of them nothing can be said too bad.
They pursue their revolting craft under every pretext; coming as fakis
or priests, they make their iniquitous exchanges for that living ebony
which consists of flesh and blood, and, altogether, they are as
coarse, unprincipled, and villanous a set as imagination can conceive.
It is pleasant to turn from these incarnations of human depravity to
the calm undesecrated quiet of the wilderness around. Two leagues to
the west brought us to the Wow, a river of inferior magnitude, but
which was very charming. Meandering between rocky slopes, overhung
with a rich and luxuriant foliage, and shadowed at intervals by
stately trees, after a few miles it joins the Dyoor. Its bed, at its
full measure, is 150 feet wide; but when I saw it, on the 1st of May,
it exhibited merely two little rills trickling merrily over a rough
sandy bottom. In proportion to its size it seemed to retain in the dry
season less water than the Dyoor. It rises in the heart of the
Niam-niam country, where it is called the Nomatilla; as it passes
through the Bongo it is termed the Harey; whilst just above its
confluence with the Dyoor, to which it contributes about a third of
its volume, it goes by the name of the Nyanahm. It divides the people
of the Dyoor into the two tribes of the Gony and the Wow.
[Sidenote: THE WOW SERIBA.]
On the banks of this, stretched beneath a noble tree, of which the age
far exceeded any tradition of the natives, I enjoyed a noonday lounge.
My dogs were never weary of awakening the echoes of the forest, which
would give repeated answers to their cries. I was constrained to move
on by the people who had come out to welcome me from the neighbouring
Seriba of Agahd, known simply as Wow, at a distance of a league and a
half to the west. The possessions of Agahd’s company in this district
are much scattered, and are interspersed amidst the territories
belonging to other merchants. Their subordinate settlements extend far
west into the lands of the Kredy, their expeditions reaching even to
the western frontiers of the Niam-niam.
The further the advance towards the west from the Dyoor, the more
rapid is the increase in the level of the country. The ascent
indicates the progress from the basin of the Gazelle to the central
highland. The Wow Seriba occupied the centre of a gentle valley
sloping towards the west. The bottom of this valley, at the time of my
visit, was traversed by a marshy strip of meadow, which, in the rainy
season, forms a running brook that flows into the river. A steep
descent of a hundred feet bounds the valley on the south-west. I was
struck by the richness and diversity of the foliage—a peculiarity in
this part of Africa, where vegetation seems very much to run to wood,
and develops itself in bushes and in trees.
Of the trees which adorn the hanging rocks I may mention a few which
are remarkable on account of their fruit. The Göll of the Bongo bears
pods which, in appearance and in flavour, resemble those of the St.
John’s Bread, and on that account the Nubians, who use the skins as
tan, call it the Caroob. Its wood, like palisander, is carved by the
natives into pretty stools and benches. Then there was the Oncoba,
from which are made the little round tobacco-boxes, known in the
Arabian trade on the Red Sea; and there was the _Strychnos edulis_, of
which the fruit is not unlike a pomegranate, containing an edible pulp
inclosed in a brittle woody shell. Together with these grew the
Ximenia, a shrub common to the tropics of both hemispheres. The
blossoms of this emit a soft fragrance as of orange flowers, and it
bears a round yellow fruit about the size of a cherry, which is about
as sour as anything in nature. The flavour is like a citron, and the
soft nut-like kernel is eaten with the juicy pulp. Several kinds of
sycamore, apparently of the Egyptian species, bear edible figs, but
they are poor and insipid. A beverage refreshing as lemonade is
prepared from the great creeper carpodinus. This plant is well known
in the Guinea trade for its produce of caoutchouc. Its globular fruit
(the sour pishamin of the colonists) contains a large number of
kernels embedded in a fibrous pulp; its sourness exceeds that of the
citron. The sarcocephalus, the wild original of the species that is
cultivated in Guinea, does not here grow larger than a peach; in shape
and colour it may be compared to a strawberry, though in flavour it
resembles an apple: eaten to excess it acts as an emetic. The white
flowers of this Rubiacea smell like orange-blossoms. The pericarp of
the cordyla contains a green honey-pulp, and that of the detarium a
sweetish yellow powder. Many species of vitex bear an olive-like fruit
with a sweet aromatic flavour; and spondias offer great tempting plums
of a bright yellow, which, however, leave a harshness in the throat.
The ripe berries of the widely diffused vangueria taste like
gingerbread, and this peculiarity, in a certain sense, belongs to
nearly all the edible fruits of Central Africa: whatever is not sour
and astringent, like unripe gooseberries, is somewhat sweet and dry to
the tongue. With the exception of the plantain (_Musa sapientium_),
which has every claim to be considered a native of Equatorial Africa,
all other fruits are either sour and grating on the palate, or they
are sweet with an after sensation of dryness. The most perfect
examples of each of these are the pishamin and the date; intermediate
to them both is the tamarind.
[Sidenote: BUFFALO-HUNTING.]
On account of the numerous gnats and gadflies on the west of the
Dyoor, cattle-breeding suddenly ceases, and even in the Seribas there
are found only a few sheep and goats. On the other hand, wild
buffaloes, after being entirely missing for a long way to the east of
the river, now re-appear. We had not come across any since we entered
the region of the Gazelle, and the first that we now saw were on the
southern frontier of the Bongo territory. Only one kind of buffalo is
known in this part of Africa, but the difference in the formation of
their horns is so remarkable that cows and bulls appear quite like two
distinct animals. In the bulls the roots of the horns meet at the top
of the head, and cover the whole of the forehead, whilst in the cows
they are separated by nearly the entire width of the brow. The habit
of this animal is different from what is ordinarily found elsewhere;
for in these regions buffalo-hunting is considered by no means a
dangerous sport. After my recent experience on the White Nile I was
surprised to find so many ready, without hesitation, to accompany me
to the chase. For myself I had rather a dread of the animal, as my
predecessor, Herr von Harnier, had fallen a victim to a wild buffalo,
which had mutilated his body to such a degree that it could not be
recognised.
On the morning after my arrival I had the luck to surprise a small
herd in a swamp. They immediately took to flight, with the exception
of two, a cow and her calf, which looked about, astonished, after
their disturber. I and my companion fired simultaneously, and we
should have secured the sucking calf, if the swamp had not been in our
way.
In flavour, the best parts of the buffalo-meat almost rival that of a
fattened ox: it is tougher and more stringy, but, in spite of
everything, it is juicy and palatable. The flesh of the tame species
of southern Europe is, on the contrary, worse than camel’s flesh, and
may indeed be pronounced uneatable.
Gladly I should have extended my tour westward, to the Kosanga
mountain, and as far as the Seribas of Zebehr, Bizelli, and some
others. The agents were always courteous, and, unencumbered, I could
easily have accomplished my desire; but my botanical collection had
largely increased, and my supply of paper was exhausted, so that I was
constrained to give up my project, and to return. The rapid
development of vegetation, moreover, warned me that I ought to be back
at my quarters in Ghattas’s Seriba before the beginning of the rains,
so that for the whole of the season, after they had decidedly set in,
I might concentrate my energies on the investigations which were the
proper purpose of my journey. Accordingly, after exploring the
immediate neighbourhood of Wow, I returned at once to Kurshook Ali’s
Seriba, where I spent a few more days in some brief excursions.
Dense still were the woods around the settlement, although Khalil, in
order to obtain arable land, was daily thinning them by fire. The
small depth of soil in these parts, often barely a foot, is one of the
causes of the instability of the dwellings which are run up on it, and
which are also liable to destruction from worms above and from white
ants below. When the inhabitants are compelled to rebuild, they prefer
to settle on fresh territory—they choose virgin soil, and hence it
arises that not only the villages of the natives, but even whole
settlements of the Nubians, are continually changing their sites.
Every place bears the name of the native chief; when he dies,
therefore, the former name falls into oblivion. In consequence of
this, it becomes very difficult to fix on the maps names and
localities, which can rarely be permanent beyond a period of at most
ten years. The only enduring landmarks are afforded by the
water-courses: ages pass on, and these change but little as they
fulfil their function in the economy of nature.
[Sidenote: THE HARTEBEEST.]
The environs of Kurshook Ali’s Seriba abound in every variety of game.
Genets, civets, zebra-ichneumons, warthogs (Phacochœrus), wild pigs,
cats, lynxes, servals, caracals, and the large family of the
antelopes, all find here their home.
[Illustration: Central African Hartebeest.]
In this neighbourhood I killed my first hartebeest and a leucotis
antelope. The hartebeest (_Antilope caama_) is common throughout the
greater part of the continent, and varies in its form, its colour, and
the shape of its horns, according to sex, age, and adventitious
circumstances. In zoological collections two specimens are rarely seen
exactly like one another.[20] Called “karia” by the Bongo and
“songoro” by the Niam-niam, the hartebeest is the most frequent of all
the larger game. It is generally found in small herds, varying in
number from five to ten, its haunts being chiefly uninhabited tracts
of wilderness. In the cultivated districts it prefers the light bush
forests in the vicinity of rivers, though it is never seen actually in
the river valleys. It takes its midday rest by standing motionless
against the trunks of trees; and by its similarity in hue to the
background which it chooses, it often eludes all observation.
Throughout the rainy season its colour is bright—a sort of
yellow-brown, with a belly nearly white; but in the winter it tones
down to a dullish grey. With the exception of the leucotis, its flesh
is the best eating of any game in the country.
[Illustration: Leucotis Antelope (male).]
The leucotis antelope[21] is the species that congregates in the
largest number in any of the districts that have been hitherto
explored. In the dry season they are often seen in the wadys in large
herds, varying from 100 to 300 head; during the rains they resort to
the more elevated forests. That is their pairing time, and they divide
into smaller groups. These graceful animals have the same habit as the
South African spring-bok; running at full speed, with outspanned legs,
they often bound four and five feet high, and jump clean over one
another. The female, which has no horns, in colour and size very much
resembles the yalo (_A. arundinacea_), but it can be easily
distinguished by the hair on the metatarsus being black, while in the
yalo it is grey.
[Sidenote: WATERPOOLS IN THE RED ROCK.]
Throughout the whole of this neighbourhood are numerous plains of
ferruginous swamp-ore; only in the rainy seasons, when the rainfall is
at its height, are these covered at all with grass, which at its best,
compared to the luxuriant vegetation around, is a meagre down, hardly
equal to our poorest pasture lands. On this plateau the rains of March
and April begin to fill the numerous clefts and chasms; the pools thus
formed contain a variety of interesting water-plants, which disappear
completely when the waters again subside. Whereever the red rock is
exposed, its surface is adorned by the rosy blossoms of the dianthera,
a species of capparis, which here supplies the place of our viscous
catch-fly and cuckoo-flower. Nowhere in the exuberant tropics are we
more vividly reminded of our own scenery than in such spots as these,
where, on the edge of woody precipices and surrounded by the smiling
green of the sward, gleam these gay patches of dianthera. The naked
stone covered by a low detached overgrowth, in picturesque grouping,
rivalled all that I had ever seen. The gardenia trees fill the air
with the fragrance as of a bower of orange blossoms and jasmine.
[Illustration: Leucotis Antelope (female).]
The month of May here, as in Europe, is a month of flowers, amongst
which the world of butterflies pass their ephemeral existence. As a
rule, these lepidoptera were not larger nor more diversified in form
and colour than the European, but, in their aggregate, they were full
of beauty. The dews of night were not sufficient for their thirst, and
in motley masses they assembled round every puddle to enjoy the
precious moisture. By a skilful swing of the butterfly-net I could
catch a hundred at a time. They continue to swarm in this way till the
beginning of July. At times I saw them thronging all amongst the
foliage, and giving to many a plant the appearance of being covered
with the most variegated blossoms; the bare rock, though destitute of
vegetation, became as charming as a blooming meadow. The quantities of
butterflies in this district are very large in comparison to what are
found in the northern regions of Africa at this season.
Two leagues to the south of the new Seriba was the site of the one
which had been burnt. But few vestiges remained, for nature here soon
effaces what fire may have spared. The only surviving evidence of its
ever having been the resort of men was a thriving grove of plantains
(_Musa sapientum_). The shoots had been introduced from the Niam-niam
lands. In the meagre households of the Nubians, fruits and vegetables
are hardly considered necessaries; indolence and distaste for work
cause the gardens to be much neglected. By my own experience, I have
found that all garden produce of the southern regions can be
cultivated here at the outlay of very little attention. The plantain
bears fruit within eighteen months of its first sprouting.
Copious is the river as it flows by the place, shaded by magnificent
afzelia, filæa, and syzygium. The impenetrable jungles of bamboo,
which extend on either side, are the abode of a large number of
bear-baboons. It was in vain that for some hours I pursued one after
another of these bellowing brutes: immediately they became aware of my
approach, they were knowing enough to quit their exposed positions on
the trees and conceal themselves amidst the waving grass. The jungle
swarmed, too, with great warthogs (_Phacochærus_), which appear as
ineradicable as the wild boars of Europe. The chase of these had small
attraction for me, aware as I was of the extreme unsavouriness of
their flesh.
[Sidenote: THE RAPHIA VINIFERA.]
On my way back to the Seriba I made a slight detour, in order to visit
the village of the Dyoor chief Okale. This lies to the east, upon a
small stream, the banks of which are shadowed by some splendid woods
that display the glories of the Niam-niam wilderness. It was like an
enclave of the south transported to the bushwoods of the north. I
looked here that I might discover the palm-tree, which the Khartoomers
call the Nakhl-el-Faraoon (or Pharaoh’s date-palm), and of which they
had given a wonderful description that roused my curiosity. I soon
satisfied myself that they really meant the _Raphia vinifera_, which
grows far and wide throughout tropical Africa, although probably, in
this direction, this may be its limit. A considerable number of the
trees and plants characteristic of the Niam-niam lands occurred to me
in my rambles, and amongst them the blippo (_Gardenia malleifera_),
with the inky sap of which the Niam-niam and the Monbuttoo delight to
dye themselves.
Whether we advanced through villages or hamlets, we always found the
overseers in their full state. Their official costume was everywhere a
long chintz shirt. From their sparkling eyes beamed forth the delight
with which they regarded my appearance, doubtless to them singular
enough. Most readily they admitted me to every corner of their
households, whence I procured one curiosity after another, and what I
could not carry away I copied into my sketch-book.
Although I could not manage, in the course of an excursion not
occupying three weeks, to traverse the entire district of the Dyoor, I
nevertheless very much increased my familiarity with their habits, of
which I will conclude this chapter with a concise account.
Dyoor is a name assigned by the Dinka, and is synonymous with men of
the woods, or wild men. This designation is a name of contempt, and is
intended to imply the condition of poverty, in which, according to
Dinka ideas, the Dyoor spend their existence. Of course, it refers to
their giving their sole attention to agriculture, to their few goats
and poultry, and to their disregard of property in cattle. They speak
of themselves as Lwoh. They use the Shillook dialect unaltered except
in a few expressions which they have adopted, and are anxious to claim
a northern origin, specifying their progenitors as O-Shwolo, or
Shillooks. The area of their territory is quite small, and their
number cannot exceed 20,000 souls.
On the north they are bounded by the numerically large tribe of the
Dembo and some smaller kindred clans. Eighty miles to the south of
them, but separated by the entire width of the Bongo country, reside
the Belanda, a tribe of which the customs are modified by their
intercourse with the Bongo, but which still make use, with very minor
differences, of the Shillook dialect. These Belanda are partly under
the surveillance of the Niam-niam king Solongho, and partly tributary
to the intruders from Khartoom.
The chequered map of Africa suggests to every reflective mind many
considerations as to how any advance in civilisation can be possible.
There is an utter want of wholesome intercourse between race and race.
For any member of a tribe which speaks one dialect to cross the
borders of a tribe that speaks another is to make a venture at the
hazard of his life. Districts there are, otherwise prosperous in every
way, which become over-populated, and from these there are
emigrations, which entail a change of pursuits, so that cattle-breeders
become agriculturists and agriculturists become hunters living on the
chase; districts again there are which shelter the remnant of a people
who are resisting oppression to the very verge of despair; and there
are districts, moreover, which have been actually reduced to a
condition of vassalage and servitude; but the case is here altogether
without example of a district which, whatever be its other
fluctuations, has ever submitted to a change of race or of tongue.
[Sidenote: DYOOR DECORATIONS.]
Former travellers, although they have found their way to the Dyoor
without concerning themselves with the origin of the people, appear to
have made the observation that their complexion is a shade lighter
than that of the Dinka. For my part I am convinced that this is so;
not that I should feel justified in insisting upon this token as
showing a difference between Dinka and Shillooks. Probably, the colour
of the skin of the Dyoor loses something of its darker hue from their
living in the shadows of their woodlands; but this is a question which
involves meteorological and geographical considerations which are
beyond our grasp.
In spite of their intercourse for many years, and their partial
dependence upon the Dinka, the Dyoor have not departed from the
Shillook mode of decorating themselves. Just on the extreme borders a
few may every now and then be found imitating the radial stripes upon
the foreheads; but it is quite uncommon for either sex to tattoo
themselves. Neither does their daily familiarity with the Nubians
induce them to adopt a modest dress. They only wear round the back of
their loins a short covering of leather, something like the skirts of
an ordinary frock coat; a calfskin answers this purpose best, of which
they make two tails to hang down behind. Anything like the decorations
of the hair which have excited our wonder amongst the Shillook and the
Dinka is here totally rejected, and the Dyoor, men and women alike,
have their hair close cropped.
The favourite ornaments of the men very much resemble those of the
Dinka, consisting of a collection of iron rings below the elbow and a
huge ivory ring above the elbow. One decoration peculiar to themselves
consists of some heavy circlets of molten brass, which are very
elaborately engraved. Brass, as known amongst the people, is called
“damara,” and is about thrice the value of copper; it had been
introduced into their traffic long before the arrival of any
Khartoomers, having been brought as an article of commerce by the
Dembo, who, as neighbours of the Baggara, were led into business
relations alike with Kordofan and Darfoor on the one hand, and with
the northern negroes on the other. Our fine metals, one and all, were
quite unknown amongst them.
[Illustration: Brass Ornaments of the Dyoor.]
Their women, too, in hardly any respect differ from the Dinka women;
like them burdening the wrists and ankles with a cluster of rings.
Very frequently one great iron ring is thrust through the nose, the
hole to admit it being bored indifferently through the base, the
bridge, or the nostrils. The rims of the ears also are pierced to
carry an indefinite number of rings. These deformities are especially
characteristic of the Bellanda, who sometimes attach to their nose a
dozen rings at once.
[Illustration: Portrait of a Dyoor.]
[Sidenote: GLASS BEADS.]
One of the iron decorations which is most admired, and which is found
far away right into the heart of Africa, I first saw here amongst the
Dyoor; I mean the iron beads or perforated little cylinders of iron,
strung together. These have some historical interest attached to them
in connection with the development of trade in Africa, arising from
the fact that they were earlier in use than glass beads, to which they
must be compared. Glass beads, obviously, were only brought into the
market after it had been proved that the natives would be willing to
wear ornaments like in form but of a lighter material than the hard
metal which they were wont to forge into shape piece by piece. The
Japanese and other inhabitants of Eastern Asia are known to trick
themselves out in steel beads, thus evidencing their long exclusion
from all intercourse with Europe. In the Soudan these strings of beads
were principally made at Wandala, and Barth has specially noticed them
at Marghi. Every tribe which I visited in proceeding inland from the
Gazelle I found to retain the preference for beads made of iron.
The derivation of the stock from a negro race of the nobler kind, and
one which has a small development of jaw, such as the Shillook, may be
fairly understood from the accompanying portrait. The sitting figure
is a likeness which I took at my leisure of one of my bearers. I
thought it would illustrate the graceful slimness of the limbs, which
nevertheless are all in due proportion. It may serve, too, in a degree
to exemplify the appropriateness of the expression “swamp-man,” which
I have several times employed, and moreover may help to justify the
comparison which has likened them to a bird.
[Illustration: Portrait of a Dyoor.]
In recent times they have lost some of their ancient habits. For
instance, the practice of mutual spitting, which was long the ordinary
mode of salutation, has fallen into desuetude. Throughout the entire
period of my residence in Africa I was never a witness of it more than
three times: and in all these cases the spitting betokened the most
affectionate goodwill; it was a pledge of attachment, an oath of
fidelity; it was to their mind the proper way of giving solemnity to a
league of friendship.
The spot which the Dyoor inhabit is the inferior terrace of the
ferruginous formation in the district. The consequence is that they
are quite at home with all iron work. The Dinka, although they do not
settle down close to them, because of the hostility of the Bongo, yet
are glad to welcome the Dyoor, in order to avail themselves of their
aid in getting at the iron, which would otherwise be unsecured. It
might almost be said that every Dyoor is a smith by profession. The
result of their toil, however, does not so much find its way to the
underground stores of the Dinka as to the magazines of the Khartoom
merchants.
[Illustration: Spear Head.]
[Illustration: Dyoor Spade.]
[Sidenote: SPEAR-HEADS AND SPADES.]
The accustomed shape in which the raw material is used as a medium of
exchange is in spear heads[22] or in spades. Throughout the whole
district of the Upper Nile these answer all the purpose of our current
coin. Although the superficial veins of iron ore, for hundreds of
miles, do not differ much in their appearance, there are only certain
localities which produce an ore that, under the primitive mode of
smelting, yields a remunerative supply of genuine metal. One of these
prolific veins is found in the proximity of Kurshook Ali’s Seriba.
With a perseverance for which I could not have given them credit, the
natives have dug out trenches some ten feet deep, from which they have
obtained a material very like our roe-stone. Considerable quantities
of red ochre are discovered, but they are not turned to any account,
through ignorance of a proper way of manipulation.
Just before the commencement of seed-time, in March, the Dyoor make a
general move away from their huts, partly for the purpose of dragging
the rivers for fish, and partly to busy themselves with iron-smelting
in the woods. In the shaded centre of a very wooded spot they
construct their furnaces of common clay, making them in groups,
sometimes as many as a dozen, according to the number of the party.
Their wives and children accompany them, and carry all their movables.
In the midst of the wilderness, otherwise so desolate, they form a
singular picture. The stems of the trees gleam again with their lances
and harpoons; on the branches hang the stout bows ready for the
buffalo hunt; everywhere are seen the draw-nets, hand-nets, snares and
creels, and other fishing-tackle. There is a mingled collection of
household effects, consisting of gourd-shells, baskets, dried fish and
crocodile, game, horns, and hides. On the ground lie piles of coals,
of ore, of cinders, and of dross. Petherick, the first explorer of
this Dyoor district, has given a very accurate account of their
primitive method of smelting iron, so that I may be repeating in a
degree what has been related before: many things, however, there are
which appeared to me under a somewhat different aspect.
[Sidenote: DYOOR SMELTING FURNACE.]
[Illustration: Dyoor Smelting-furnace.]
The smelting-furnace is a cone, not more than four feet high, widening
at the top into a great goblet shape. So little deviation was there in
the form of any that I saw that all seemed to me to be erected on
precisely the same model. One obstacle to the construction of larger
furnaces is the extreme difficulty of preventing the mass of clay from
cracking in the process of drying. The cup-shaped aperture at the top
communicates by a very small throat with the cavity below, which is
entirely filled with carbons. Into the upper receiver are thrown
fragments of ore, of about a solid inch, till it is full. The hollow
tunnel extends lower than the level of the ground; and the melted mass
of iron, finding its way through the red-hot fuel, collects below in a
pile of slag. At the base there are four openings: one of these is
much larger than the others, and is used for the removal of the
scoriæ; the other three are to admit the long tewel-irons, which reach
to the middle of the bottom, and keep the apertures free for the
admission of air. Without stoking, the openings would very soon become
blocked up with slag. In reply to my inquiry I was told that bellows
are never employed; it was said that too fierce a fire was injurious,
and caused a loss of metal. A period of a day and a half, or about
forty hours, is requisite to secure the product of one kindling. When
the flames have penetrated right through the mass of ore until they
rise above it, the burning is presumed to be satisfactory.
Amongst the Bongo the furnaces are different, being generally
constructed in three compartments, and fitted with bellows. They also
place layers of ore and fuel alternately.
The deposit of metal and fuel is heated a second time, and the heavy
portion, which is detached in little leaflets and granules, is once
more subjected to fire in crucibles of clay. The particles, red-hot,
are beaten together by a great stone into one compact mass, and, by
repeated hammering, are made to throw off their final dross. Nearly
half of the true metal is scattered about during the progress of the
smelting, and would be entirely lost if it were not secured by the
natives. In regard to its homogeneousness and its malleability, the
iron procured in this way is quite equal to the best forged iron of
our country.
The Dyoor and the Bongo appear almost equally ignorant about
charcoal-burning. They understand very little about the exclusion of
air from the furnaces, or of burning their wood in piles: their
science seems limited to the combustion of small fragments heaped up
over one another till the fire below them is choked, or subdued by
pouring water upon the top. I am not aware whether the other negroes
have mastered the secret of charcoal-making; but if what has been said
about the Dyoor holds good about Africa in general, it accounts at
once for the remarkable fact that in spite of the abundance of the
crude material, iron is so little employed. There is a universal
absence of lime, so that stone erections are quite unknown.
If a comparison might be instituted, I should say that in Africa iron
might be estimated to have a value about equivalent to copper with us,
whilst the worth of copper would correspond to that of silver.
[Illustration: DYOOR VILLAGE IN WINTER.]
[Sidenote: DYOOR HUTS.]
For fifteen years have the Nubians now been brought into contact with
this region, but they have never taught the natives either the way of
making bricks or any intelligent conception of the use of charcoal.
Themselves too lazy to improve the treasures which a bountiful Nature
has flung amongst them, they are too idle and too indifferent to
stimulate even the people they have subjugated to put forth any energy
at all. And this is but one proof out of many of the demoralising
tendency of Islamism, which would ever give a retrograde movement to
all civilisation.
Throughout Africa I have never come across a tribe that has not
adopted a mode of building huts which, alike with respect to exterior
and interior, is not peculiar to itself. The huts of the Dyoor do not
resemble the mushroom shapes of the Shillooks, nor are they like the
substantial huts of the Dinka, massive and distinguished by small
outbuildings and porches. Again, they could not for a moment be
mistaken to be dwellings of the Bongo, because they have no straw
projections about the top of the roof. In a general way they are a yet
more simple and unadorned construction—not that they are destitute of
that neat symmetry which seems to belong to all negro dwellings. The
roof is a simple pyramid of straw, of which the section is an
equilateral triangle, the substructure being all of wickerwork, either
of wood or bamboo, and cemented with clay.
Inside every hut there is a large receptacle for storing whatever corn
or other provision is necessary for the household. These are made of
wickerwork, and have a shape like great bottles. To protect them
against the rats, which never fail to carry on their depredations,
they are most carefully overdaubed with thick clay. They occupy a very
large proportion of the open space in the interior; very often they
are six or seven feet in height, and sometimes are made from a
compound of chopped stubble and mud. After the huts have been
abandoned, and all else has fallen into decay, these very frequently
survive, and present the appearance of a bake-oven gone to ruin. In
the Arabic of the Soudan this erection is called a “googah.” It is
derived from the Dinka; the huts of the Bongo and the Niam-niam having
nothing of the sort, because they build detached granaries for their
corn.
The picture which is here introduced is a representation of the rural
pursuits of this peaceful tribe. It is presumed to be winter time,
when, for some months to come, no rain is to be expected. It may be
taken as illustrating what might be witnessed at any time between
October and April. The tall erections adjacent to the huts contain the
various grain requisite for the next seed time, and may be supposed to
be full of the sorghum, the maize, and the gourd.[23] It is better to
let these be exposed to the sun rather than to run the risk of having
them devoured by rats or vermin in the huts. Underneath these
structures the goats are hid; besides these, dogs and some poultry are
the only domestic animals they keep.
The open space in front of the huts consists of a plain, most
carefully levelled by treading it down. Upon this floor, which is
perfectly hard, the corn is winnowed; and it serves as a common area
for all domestic purposes. In front of the huts, too, sunk to some
depth below the ground, there is a great wooden mortar, in which the
corn, after it has been first pounded by the primitive African method
of stones, is reduced to a fine meal by rubbing with the hands. The
Dinka also use these sunken mortars, which are hewn out of some hard
wood; but the Bongo and Niam-niam carry with them movable mortars of a
smaller size.
[Sidenote: DYOOR PURSUITS.]
To the right may be observed a man, who is collecting iron ore, and
one of the wicker baskets which belong to the reserve of corn. Great
gongs hang upon the posts towards the left, and some of the massive
bows, of which the strings are ready stretched by a billet to serve as
snares. This artifice is employed by several of the people of this
district to facilitate their chase of the wild buffaloes. Very strong
straps of hide are strained across the tall grass of the lowlands,
where the buffaloes congregate. One end is fastened either to a tree
or to a peg driven into the ground, the other end attached to the bow.
This forms a kind of noose which, through the rebound of the billet,
tightens itself about the legs of the buffalo when it strains it. The
startled beast makes a bound, and is immediately fettered. The
hunters, who had been lying in wait, seize this moment and, with their
lances, strike at the prey, which, if not utterly entangled, is sure
by the bow to be obstructed in its running. In a similar way all the
larger antelopes are captured, especially the powerful eland, at which
it is hard to get, even after it has been driven to the marshy levels.
Good large families have the Dyoor; and were it not that the Nubians
come upon the land, and every year carry off at least half the corn
that is grown, there would long ago have been, as with their kindred
on the White Nile, a dense Dyoor population. They partake also of the
skilfulness of the Shillooks in obtaining resources for livelihood in
various ways: they pursue the chase, they practise fishing when they
have the chance; they are industrious in tillage; they thoroughly
appreciate the value of cattle, and would like to possess it, although
in their new settlement they can boast little more than a few kids and
goats. To have a well-stocked poultry-yard, and to possess that friend
of man, a good dog, is essential to the satisfaction of a Dyoor
household. Upon these the attention of the men is centred, and on
these they make their largest outlay. If they escape servitude to the
Nubians, and are not obliged to turn porters to convey their burdens,
or builders to erect their dwellings, they employ themselves with
their fishing and hunting, or in practising the art of Tubal Cain.
Labour in the fields is all done by the women, upon whom also falls
the entire domestic superintendence as well as the actual work of the
house; they make all the wickerwork and do all the manipulation of the
clay; they trample down the level floor and mould the vessels of every
size. It is remarkable how they manage with the mere hand to turn out
immense vessels which, even to a critical eye, have all the appearance
of being made on a wheel. In order to render a clay floor perfectly
level and free from cracks they work in a very original way. They
procure from the woods a piece of tough bark, about three feet long;
they then kneel down upon the clay, and persevere in patting it with
their pieces of bark till they make the surface of the soil as smooth
as though it had been rolled. In a very similar way they prepare the
graves for their dead, which they arrange very close to their huts. A
circular mound, some three or four feet high, indicates the situation
of the last resting-place of a Dyoor so long as the violence of the
rain allows it to retain its shape; but a very few years suffice to
obliterate the final vestiges of these transient memorials.
Affection for parents and for children is developed amongst the Dyoor
much more decidedly than in any other Central African tribe which I
have known. In a way that I have not observed among other pagan
negroes, they place their infants in long baskets that answer the
purpose of cradles. There is a kind of affection which even brutes can
display to their offspring as well as human beings. In the very lowest
grades of human society there is ever a kind of bond which lasts for
life between mother and child, although the father may be a stranger
to it. Such, to say the least, is the measure of affection which the
Dyoor show to their little ones. Nor is this all; they have a
reverence for age; and in every hamlet there are grey heads amongst
them.
FOOTNOTES:
[19] The word Niam-niam has the Italian pronunciation of
“Gnamgnam.”
[20] It may not be superfluous to give a picture of an old
buck, nor to remark that the females also have horns.
[21] Separate illustrations are given of the male and
female.
[22] The spear-heads, as represented in the engraving, are
about three-quarters of a yard in length.
[23] The Dyoor cultivate very nearly the same crops as the
Bongo, and these will be described with reference to that
people.