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. Dimindoh, 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.

I spent December and January in a tour of considerable extent through

the adjacent Mittoo country, being desirous of visiting some Seribas

recently established by Aboo Sammat, and by means of which he had

extended his frontiers far onwards towards the east. I obtained ten

bearers for the transport of my baggage, and a Nubian captain of Aboo

Sammat’s company was expressly appointed to act as guide and to

provide for my accommodation all along the route. I was accompanied

likewise by three of my own Khartoom servants.

A short journey to the north-east brought us to Boiko, where, enclosed

by a dense forest, was situated Aboo Sammat’s harem. A lady here, the

first wife, a daughter of the Niam-niam chief Wando, although she did

not permit herself to be seen, was near at hand to do the honours: she

was so far civilized that she entertained me with coffee and several

Khartoom dishes.

Proceeding eastwards we reached the little river Tudyee, which,

flowing past Sabby at a distance of about two leagues to the east,

ultimately joins the Roah (the Nam Dyow of the Dinka); at this time of

year it is about twenty feet deep, and murmurs along a channel from

twenty to thirty feet wide; now and then it forms deep basins, which

never fail to be full of fish. We made our first night-camp near a

fine tamarind, which will probably for years to come be a landmark as

conspicuous as it was at the time of my visit; it was the usual

halting-place of all caravans from east to west, and the traces of

previous encampments, dilapidated straw-hats, vestiges of fires and

fragments of bones bore ample testimony to the fact.

At this season a slight dew was perceptible towards five o’clock in

the morning. The nights were calm and, in comparison with the day,

were considerably cooler than in summer, when in the interior of the

huts there is hardly any difference in temperature to be

distinguished. Throughout the day, however, a strong north wind blew

incessantly, which towards the afternoon increased almost to a

hurricane. There is a peculiar charm in these early morning hours, and

no one can wake from his repose in a night-camp in the wilderness

without a sense of calm enjoyment of the delights of nature. As soon

as the horizon reddens with the dawn the solitude is enlivened by a

chorus of ring-doves, here the most frequent of their kind, and by the

cackling of guinea-fowl. The traveller is aroused daily by their

serenades, and, without much strain upon his imagination, he could

almost persuade himself that he has been long resident in the same

spot, so familiar does the cooing of the doves become.

[Sidenote: CARRIED OFF BY A LION.]

As we were preparing to continue our march, some people came to meet

us with some dismal intelligence from the neighbouring village of

Geegyee. They said that on the previous night a Nubian soldier, who

had laid himself down at the door of his hut, about five paces from

the thorn hedge, had been seized by a lion, and, before he could raise

an alarm had been dragged off no one knew whither. I now learnt, that

this district had for some years been infested with lions, and that

lately the casualties had been so frequent that the greater part of

the inhabitants of Geegyee had migrated in consequence. The entire

village would have been transplanted long ago, but the lions had been

always found to follow every change of position. At seven o’clock in

the morning we reached the ill-omened spot, the poorest of neglected

villages, surrounded by woods. A thorn hedge formed its enclosure but

nowhere could we discover an entrance. Although the sun was now high,

the inhabitants, terrified lest the lions should be near, were still

sitting either on the tops of their roofs or on the piles that

supported their granaries. Speechless and depressed with fear, my

people proceeded on their journey: every one kept his gun in hand, and

the bearers, listening anxiously at every rustle that broke the

stillness, peered carefully after any traces of the dreaded foe.

After a good day’s march we arrived at Aboo Sammat’s Seriba Dokkuttoo,

lying on the extreme east of the frontier of the Bongo; it was about

twenty miles from the chief Seriba Sabby, being somewhat further to

the south. Half a league before we reached Dokkuttoo we had crossed a

considerable, though only periodical stream, called the Mokloio. It

was now five feet deep, meandering over a low flat fifty feet wide to

join the Roah.

The Roah is a river of about the same size as the Tondy, with which it

finally unites itself; it here makes a remarkable bend from south-east

to north-east, but its general direction for some distance in this

district is due north; the stream flowed between banks twenty or

thirty feet in height; its average width was full forty feet, whilst

it was only three feet deep; the velocity of the current was one

hundred and twenty feet a minute. The grass flat covered by the Roah

at the time of its inundation is not so wide as that covered by the

Tondy at Koolongo; it measured barely half a league across, and I

therefore conclude that this river carries northward a volume of water

smaller than the Tondy.

The Bongo were most assiduous in securing the large supplies of fish

offered by the Roah. Across the stream in many places was thrown a

kind of weir like a _chevaux de frise_; this they stopped up with

bunches of grass and so formed a small dam; over the open places were

set creels, and altogether a rich produce rarely failed to be

obtained. Some miles up the river, where the banks are shut in by

impenetrable reeds, is a favourite resort of hippopotamuses, and it

was said that, two years previously, the natives had killed no less

than thirty in a single day. The brutes had been driven by the low

condition of the water to seek the deeper basins of the river-bed,

whence all escape was impossible.

We remained in Dokkuttoo for two days, of which I made the most by

excursions in the neighbourhood. A small slave caravan, containing one

hundred and fifty girls and children, happened to be passing through

the Seriba; it was conducted by traders coming from Ghattas’s and

Agahd’s territory in the east. The whole party huddled together for

the night in a couple of huts, several old female slaves being

entrusted with the supervision of the children. I was a witness of the

arrangements for the evening meal, and, contrary to my expectation,

found that everything was conducted with much system and regularity.

The old Bongo people of the neighbouring villages had brought fifty

bowls of dokhn-groats, and as many more containing sauces prepared

from sesame-oil, Hyptis-pap, and dried and powdered meat or fish, and

other comestibles of gourds and wild Melochia.

[Sidenote: FORCED PROVISIONS.]

My own entertainment was well provided for, and the agent had an extra

bullock slaughtered in order that my little company should not proceed

without the supply of meat necessary for the journey. Every mouthful

of food that I swallowed in this unhappy country was a reproach to the

conscience, but the voice of hunger drowned every higher emotion; even

the bread that we ate had been forced from the very poorest in the

season of their harvest when their joy, such as it was, was at its

height; they probably had neither cow nor goat, and their little

children were in peril of dying of starvation and only dragged out a

miserable existence by scraping up roots. The meat, in the abundance

of which we were revelling, had been stolen from poor savages, who pay

almost a divine homage to their beasts, and who answer with their

blood for the stubbornness with which they defend their cows, which

they hold dearer than wife or child.

Leaving Dokkuttoo, we proceeded for three leagues to the south,

passing through the light bushwood that skirted the left bank of the

Roah. The woods lay close down to the river as it flowed between its

rocky banks. We crossed the stream near some huts, already inhabited

by Mittoo, of which the name of the local chief was Degbe. Further

south our path again and again crossed wide meadow-flats containing

water-basins almost as large as lakes, which, as they had no

perceptible current, had every appearance of being ancient beds of the

Roah. Several larger kinds of antelopes, water-bucks, and hartebeests

appeared, and a herd of thirty leucotis challenged me to a chase. At

night, at our bivouac in the forest, we enjoyed in consequence a fine

feast of the savoury game. Between the Roah and the Rohl the previous

uniformity of the rocks began to be broken by projections of gneiss

and by scattered hills. About ten leagues from Ngahma we passed a

remarkable spot of this kind, where huge blocks of stone rose in

mounds from which colossal obelisks might be hewn. These elevated

places alternated with extensive flats level as a table top.

Ngahma was Aboo Sammat’s most important settlement amongst the Mittoo.

It lies in a S.S.E. direction from Dokkuttoo and derives its name from

the elder of the people, who, with his twenty wives, resides at no

great distance; by the natives it is called Mittoo-mor. From Ngahma I

turned north-east towards Dimindoh, a small settlement of

elephant-hunters belonging to Ghattas’s “Gebel company,” as the people

style his establishments on the Bahr-el-Gebel. The district was the

highest elevation between the Roah and the Rohl, the country being

more diversified by defiles, clefts, and periodic streams than that

which I had previously traversed. Dimindoh lay on the further bank of

a little river called the Wohko, which, during our march, we had

repeatedly to cross. The stream flows over a course of some seventy

miles without any perceptible increase in its dimensions, a

peculiarity that I have again and again observed in many other small

rivers, which seem to flow across wide tracts of country unchanged in

their condition by the affluence of any spring or running brook.

An excellent reception awaited me in Dimindoh. The hunting-village had

been lately built of straw and bamboo at a large outlay, and there

were regular straw palaces, of which the new domes and roofs gleamed

with all the golden glory of Ceres. To say the very least, our rest

was quite undisturbed by rats, and the idyllic abodes still retained

the pleasant aroma of the meadows. I had no cause to complain of the

entertainment in any of the smaller Seribas. I was always supplied

with milk and with all kinds of meal. The traditional spirit-distillery

of Ghattas’s people was here also in full swing, and they brought to

me, in gourd-shells, a concoction which was not so utterly bad as that

at Gurfala.

[Sidenote: TREATMENT OF WOUNDS.]

I was, however, much bewildered by the constant solicitations for my

medical advice. Amongst other cases they brought me a Nubian, who, on

his excursions, had received such cuts from the grass that his feet

had completely rotted away, leaving the tendons still hanging. These

people have no rational way of treating their wounds, but when there

is any inflammation they endeavour to allay it by corn-poultices and

hot water, a proceeding which always aggravates the evil. I saw some

who had lost several toes, and others who had the most revolting sores

on the shins and insteps, and in nearly every case these had arisen

from insignificant cuts which, simply from mismanagement, had

terminated in disease.

“It is a strange thing,” I said to them, “that the grass is only bad

_here_; it must be something more than that; it is a punishment from

God.”

“But God,” they answered, “does not give us such grass in Dongola;

this is a bad country.”

“Do you mean to say then,” I replied, “that God is kind in Dongola,

and unkind here? No; I tell you, God is Himself punishing you for all

your thievery, because there is here no other ruler to look after your

misdeeds.”

I felt that I was quite justified in talking in this fashion to a

people who, under the cloak of religion, are as unscrupulous rascals

as any in the world, and who, misinterpreting the mottoes on their

banners which incite them to war against the infidel, consider all

plunder perpetrated on defenceless savages as heroic actions bearing

them onwards to the palms of Paradise.

The chief Seriba of this eastern section of Ghattas’s establishments

lies only a league and a half to the north-east of Dimindoh, and was

called Dangadduloo, after a certain Danga, who had been appointed the

head of the Mittoo of the district. In 1863 the brothers Poncet of

Khartoom had ceded to Ghattas their settlements amongst the Agar, on

the Rohl, in order to found fresh establishments in the following year

near the cataracts of that river, among the Lehssy. The Agar, as I

have already mentioned, had managed to obtain possession of a

considerable quantity of firearms and ammunition, and had made

themselves so formidable that the Khartoomers had not ventured to

rebuild the Seriba that had been destroyed: for that reason, the

settlements of Ghattas had receded southwards to the region in which I

now found myself. Our road lay often across wide gneiss flats, which

not unfrequently exhibited the same uniformity for several hundred

yards together. From the surface the stone broke off in smooth laminæ,

often as thin as the cover of a book, and afforded me a convenient

material for pressing my packets of plants. We had crossed the Wohko

for the second time at Dimindoh, where its bed was about fifteen feet

deep: its course is generally due north, but here it bends at a right

angle to the east, as if seeking the shortest route to join the Rohl.

The little river abounds in shells, especially in Anodontæ, which are

turned to many domestic uses by the natives, while the massive

_Etheria Cailliaudii_, not unlike the oyster, forms continuous banks

in all these minor streams.

In Dangadduloo I found two applicants both eager to obtain the

appointment as superintendent of the Seriba. One of these had

accompanied the last caravan of supplies from Khartoom, and now was

not acknowledged in the Seriba by the soldiers, who reproached him for

having acted fraudulently. He was a Copt, and, as far as I know, the

first and last Khartoom Christian who ever ventured amongst this set

of fanatics. The other agent, named Selim, was a negro over six feet

high, and by birth a Dinka; he had the majority of the inhabitants of

the Seriba on his side, and lived in continual contention with his

rival about the surrender of the stores brought from Khartoom. Both of

these men received me with a great show of friendship, and each strove

to outdo the other in politeness; they considered that a great deal

might depend upon the answer that I should give their master on my

return to Khartoom, when he would probably ask my opinion of their

respective merits. Each maligned the other, and almost in the same

terms; they were both, moreover, throughout the two days which I spent

with them more or less in a state of intoxication.

[Sidenote: COLD CUP.]

Wherever I entered a Seriba there was almost invariably brought to my

hut, according to the Soudan fashion of receiving strangers, a cooling

draught, consisting of a kind of _cold cup_ called Abrey. It was made

in the simplest manner from highly-leavened bread, dried and crumbled

into water; its flavour is agreeable, and travellers can hardly say

too much in its favour: it is a preparation, however, that can only be

made of sorghum bread. In addition to this the people are accustomed,

according to patriarchal usage, to bring water to wash the stranger’s

feet. When there preliminaries had been gone through, I had then to

take my seat upon the “angareb” or couch, which was generally covered

with an elegant Persian carpet, and to await the visits that would be

made me.

A succession of unknown personages ordinarily came, who made a

reverent salaam and then silently and with mysterious air placed

before me flasks, calabashes, and gourd-shells containing butter,

milk, honey, spirits, merissa—in short, every delicacy that the

country could offer. My people revelled in this abundance, and ever

rejoiced at the happy thought which had impelled me to this tour, and

that I had brought them from a land threatened with famine into this

region of corn and cattle. The fact of a large number of the herds

having been stolen, and that the territory was adjacent to the

territory that had been plundered, gave rise to the risk of a

nocturnal attack by way of reprisal: on this account numerous watches

were set every night and the environs were patrolled, but no sooner

had the sun gone down than the entire community abandoned themselves

to a general intoxication, so that I should never have been astonished

if the Dinka had ventured on a surprise, which would have had every

likelihood of being crowned with success.

The Mittoo of this district are called Gheree. Southwards and far to

the east of the Rohl the general name of Moro is applied to the

country, and as tribes of distinct people have settled there, it may

no doubt be considered as a true geographical designation of the land

itself; it is, however, the only example which came under my notice

throughout the entire region of the appellation of the people and the

land not being identical.

Favoured by the partial destruction of the high grass by fire, the

natives were diligently setting about their great hunt. Battues, with

nets, pits, and snares, were set on foot in every direction; the

strong bows with curved handles, by means of which a lasso can by

skill be thrown round a buffalo’s legs, being in general use. In the

villages I observed many trophies of the chase in the shape of some

splendid horns of buffaloes and eland-antelopes.

As I went on due east towards the Rohl, I was obliged to be carried,

on account of having a sore foot. This I found a matter of some

difficulty, on account of the want of any suitable litter, and because

the paths are all so narrow that there is no space for two persons to

move abreast, while the difficulty was still further increased by the

negroes refusing to carry the heavy angarebs in any way except upon

their heads. Wherever Islamism has its sway in Africa, it appears

never to be the fashion for any one to allow himself to be carried:

this arises from a religious scruple which might with advantage be

applied by Europeans to nations under their protection. A strict

Mohammedan reckons it an actual sin to employ a man as a vehicle, and

such a sentiment is very remarkable in a people who set no limits to

their spirit of oppression. It is a known fact that a Mohammedan,

though he cannot refuse to recognise a negro, denying the faith, as

being _a man_, has not the faintest idea of his being entitled to any

rights of humanity.

[Sidenote: IDENTIFICATION OF ROUTE.]

The country on the left bank of the Wohko appeared well cultivated,

and we frequently passed through fields from which crops of

Penicillaria had been gathered. Three leagues from Dangadduloo there

was some low meadow land, and, for the first time since leaving the

Dyoor, I saw an extensive range of Borassus palms, their lofty stems,

80 feet in height, crowned with waving plumes of fan-shaped leaves.

Beneath their shade nestled the huts of the Mittoo chief Bai, with

whom we took our noonday rest. In the afternoon we retraced our steps

for a couple of leagues, in order to put up for the night in the

village of another chief, named Gahdy. Towards the north-east some

important heights now showed themselves on the horizon beyond the

Rohl, and after awhile I was able to settle certain angles so as to

determine their relative bearings. By this means, for the first time,

I ascertained that my route must be near the points which had been

reached by former travellers, and I could with certainty identify

Girkeny, relatively about 200 feet high, with the locality marked on

Petherick’s map.

It afforded me much amusement to watch the natives at their ordinary

occupations in their pent-up dwellings, and my portfolio was enriched

by the drawings of many of the household utensils, as well as of the

personal ornaments which the Mittoo women possess in great abundance.

These women are the most frightful that ever yet I had seen, and the

horrible manner in which they mutilate their lips contributes a great

deal to increase their repulsiveness. Elsewhere this practice is

generally confined to the women, but here the men were similarly

disfigured, and in Gahdy’s village I was visited by a man from whose

upper lip there hung a pendant of polished quartz more than two inches

long.

Just behind the village we came once more upon the Wohko, which had

here more perfectly assumed the aspect of a river, being forty feet in

width. It had now entered upon the wide low-lying steppe which extends

to the western shores of the Rohl. We were nearly two hours in

crossing this tract, which was densely covered with grass so high

that, although in my litter I was six feet above the ground, I had to

raise myself to catch sight of the adjacent mountains.

It is worthy of notice how all the rivers that I visited in this

region, such as the Dyoor, the Paongo, the Tondy, the Roah, and the

Rohl, of which the course was almost directly from south to north, in

spite of the slight diminution of the velocity of the earth’s rotation

in these low latitudes of 6° or 8°, follow that law, exemplified in

all rivers flowing northwards, and which is dependent on the rate of

rotation of the earth. The course of all alike was nearly coincident

with the eastern edge of the uniform steppes that covered the

districts subject to their inundations. Along the western shore of the

Dyoor and Paongo the steppes in many places could not be crossed in

much less than an hour, whilst those on the east could be traversed in

little more than ten minutes. In the same way it takes forty minutes

to cross the western flats on the Tondy near Koolongo, but those on

the opposite bank are easily passed in a sixth of the time. Here, too,

upon the Rohl there are no flats at all upon the right-hand shore, but

the river for some distance washes past a steepish bank on which lies

Ghattas’s Seriba Awoory. This bank is formed by the slope of the

Girkeny, only about two leagues away.

[Sidenote: VARIOUS NAMES OF THE ROHL.]

The Rohl contains a much larger volume of water than the Tondy, and

near Awoory its bed divides into several branches, which in the winter

are separated by sandbanks of considerable height. In the higher parts

some stagnant pools remain, which, as they evaporate, fill the lowland

with swampy humour. On the 17th of December I found the width of the

river to be seventy feet; its depth was only about two feet and a

half, but it was overhung by sandy banks twenty feet high, which were

covered with reeds; its current moved at the moderate rate of about a

hundred feet a minute. The river must offer an imposing sight in the

height of the rainy season, when the plains are entirely under water;

it must, then, apparently rival the Dyoor, although it does not

contain more than a third of the quantity of water. Marked on existing

maps under the name of Rohl, it is called by the Dinka the Nam-Rohl,

_i. e._, the river of the “Rohl,” which is a tribe of the Dinka

people. The Mittoo, the Madi, and other tribes along its course give

it the name of Yahlo, whilst among the Bongo it is known as the

Dyollebe. This is a fresh instance of what may be found throughout

Africa, where the names of rivers, towns, and chiefs continually

recur, and where Ronga and Mundo are almost as common as Columbus,

Franklin, and Jackson in North America. The term Kaddo or Kodda, which

appears on some maps, seems superfluous, since in both the Mittoo and

Behl dialects the word means only “a river,” or generally “water.”

At Awoory a reception grander than usual was prepared for me. From my

elevated position I could distinguish that the ant-hills were covered

with black heads and that hundreds of inquisitive natives had

collected to gratify their curiosity about me. As I entered the

Seriba, fifty men were drawn up before the gate, under orders to

honour me by firing a salute. Something of a feeling of misgiving

quivered through me, and it was a relief to recollect that I was up in

the air, and so comparatively safe from the shots that were to be

fired on the ground.

The natives around Awoory are called Sohfy, and are the same as the

Rohl, who dwell further east. Their language in some respects

resembles those of the Mittoo and the Bongo, although there are points

in which it differs materially from both. In appearance and habits,

the Sohfy bear a close affinity to the Mittoo. The three mountains to

the north of Awoory are also inhabited by the Sohfy; Girkeny, the

loftiest of these, is about three leagues distant, and consists of a

bright mass of gneiss, which descends abruptly towards the south in

precipices 200 feet apart. Petherick’s route in 1863, between Aweel

and Yirri, lay across this mountain. Nearer the Seriba is a little

hill, with its villages of Nyeddy, Yei, and Madoory, all of which are

tributary to Ghattas.

About a day’s journey to the north-east there rises a lofty

table-land, upon which the name of Khartoom has been conferred by the

natives, in order to denote its importance and impregnability as a

stronghold. Its inhabitants are respected by the people of the Seriba

for their bravery in war, and are particularly renowned for their

skill in archery: although they have been repeatedly attacked, the

aggressors, ever unsuccessful, have been obliged to retreat with a

large number of killed and wounded. A few weeks previously the

population of this Mount Khartoom had attempted to surprise the

Seriba, which most probably would not have escaped entire destruction,

if the garrison of the neighbouring Seriba of the Poncets had not

opportunely come to its relief.

The Nubians apply the general term of Dyoor to all the tribes on the

Rohl to the south of the Dinka territory, although the tribes

themselves, having nothing in common either in language, origin, or

customs with the Dyoor of the west (a Shillook tribe), repudiate the

definition. The designation was adopted from the Dinka, who thus

distinguish all tribes that do not devote themselves to cattle-breeding.

Petherick was in error when he imagined that the Dyoor country known

to him in his earlier travels extended so far as to include the Rohl:

he would have escaped his misapprehension if he had only noted down a

few of the characteristic idioms of their language.

[Sidenote: MY FOOT INFLAMED.]

Whilst I was in Awoory my foot became so much worse that for two days

I was almost entirely incapacitated. Externally there was only a

slight spot on the sole of the foot, but the entire limb had swollen

with inflammation. I had every reason to fear an outbreak of

guinea-worm, and therefore resigned myself to the cheerless prospect

of being invalided for several weeks. Unable to carry out my intended

trip to the attractive mountains of the neighbourhood, I had no

alternative but to submit to my disappointment, and, without

accomplishing my hopes, I was compelled to bid farewell to Awoory. For

six days I had been confined to my litter, and meanwhile all search

for plants, all the enticements of the chase, and all investigation of

the implements peculiar to the villages had to be given up. Enthroned

again on the heads of four sturdy negroes, I proceeded on my way.

Through my position, my range of vision was somewhat enlarged, so that

I had a little compensation for my helplessness in a more extensive

prospect over the pleasant country. Pain, too, was subsiding, and no

longer engrossed my care. The bright sky above, the still solitude of

the steppes around, the mild air of the tropical winter, and the

unwonted ease of my mode of progress, all combined to lull me into

gentle reverie. The slight rustle made by the footsteps of the bearers

among the yielding stalks was the only sound that broke my silent

contemplations, and I could almost imagine that I was in a light boat,

being driven by an invisible power across the waves of a sea of grass.

Until we passed the Rohl the road lay in a S.S.E. direction, close

along its right-hand bank. Inland, the country appeared to ascend in

gently-rising terraces, but the character of the vegetation continued

entirely unaltered, the bush-forest being composed of trees and shrubs

of the same kind that I had observed ever since we had set foot upon

the red soil. At the place of our transit the stream was undivided;

but, although it was 200 feet in breadth, the water was little more

than knee-deep. The numbers of fish were quite surprising, and our

negroes amused themselves by darting with their arrows at the swarms

of little perch, never failing to make good their aim.

On the opposite bank we entered the territory of another small but

distinct tribe called the Lehssy, whose dialect differs from both

Mittoo and Sohfy. Its narrow limits extend for a few leagues to the

east of the river as far as Kirmo, which was one of the places visited

by Petherick. Beyond again are the settlements of the Bohfy, in whose

territory, a day’s journey to the east of Mvolo, Agahd maintains a

Seriba, which is situated on the Ayi, a river which, according to

Petherick, contains less water than the Rohl and joins the Dyamid

before it enters the Bahr-el-Gebel. To the north of the Bohfy dwell

the Behl, who, together with the Agar and Sohfy, possess such wealth

of cattle as to provoke continual raids on the part of the owners of

the Seribas. Behind the Behl again, towards the Bahr-el-Gebel, are the

Atwol, a people much feared for their warlike qualities, rendering the

approaches to the Meshera of that river so unsafe that caravans are

often in considerable danger of attack.

After crossing the Rohl we proceeded a mile or two to the S.E., and

arrived at Poncet’s Seriba in Mvolo. The character of the scenery had

now entirely changed, and large blocks of granite, at one time in

solid cubes, at another in pointed obelisks, started from the ground.

On the north of the Seriba, and a little above the place where we

forded the river in coming from Awoory, these rocky projections caused

the stream to fall into rapids, which, on a reduced scale, bore a

resemblance to a cataract of the Nile. This chain of scattered rocks,

which runs across the country from west to east, has been mentioned by

Petherick (‘Travels in Africa,’ vol. ii.) as extending to the south of

the village of Dugwara.

[Sidenote: THE BANNER OF ISLAM.]

The agent in Mvolo, who had been for many years in the service of the

brothers Poncet, received me most courteously. As I entered within the

palisade of the Seriba, a hundred men saluted me after the fashion of

the country, and even some shots were fired from a small piece of

naval artillery that stood in the gateway. However honoured I might

feel by this polite reception, I could be conscious of nothing but

vexation at the sight of the blood-red banner with its crescent and

extracts from the Koran. I had flattered myself in vain with the hope

that here at least the cheerful waving of the tricolour—often but a

mockery—would proudly assert the authority and independence of the

Frank. My people had repeatedly declared that they would on no account

follow under my flag, and I had no means open to me of convincing them

of their error. The unfurling of the Mohammedan banner over the

possessions of a Frenchman is a practical demonstration of the limited

measure of authority which is really exercised by the Khartoom

merchants over their dependents in the interior. There is not a single

Christian in the settlement, so that the condition of things is not

worse than might reasonably be anticipated. Such, at any rate, is my

opinion, and I do not doubt but that any fellow-countryman of Poncet’s

would either hold his peace or pass a judgment even sterner than mine.

In all these countries the slave-traffic is a fact tacitly

acknowledged quite as much as the transactions of the minor

speculators on our own exchanges, and the brothers Poncet had much

odium to endure from being held responsible for the delinquencies of

their subordinates in this respect. These accusations, combined with

the difficulty of maintaining a proper control over the conduct of

their people, made them hesitate to increase the number of their

settlements; their insignificant profits, moreover, did not allow them

to stand against the competition of the neighbouring companies, who

shrunk from no means, however unlawful, for enriching themselves. At

length the brothers Poncet had become weary of the illegitimate

proceedings that went on covertly in defiance of their authority, so

that a year previously they had disposed of their establishments to

the Egyptian Government, stipulating for a period of three years for a

payment of a percentage on the entire produce of ivory at the current

rate of interest. Such were the circumstances under which the last

European firm withdrew from the ivory trade, which had really been

originated and established in the countries of the Upper Nile by

Europeans alone. The Egyptian Government had looked forward to the

monopoly of the ivory traffic as so likely to be lucrative that they

paid a large sum for its purchase.

Mvolo was practically the nearest point to the region which was most

productive of ivory, and there was a direct route from the Rohl to the

Monbuttoo which avoided the hostile territory of the Niam-niam.

Latterly, the Poncets had sent out two expeditions in the year instead

of one, and had thus doubled their previous annual profits through

having resources which were not available to any other establishment.

But, in spite of everything, the authorities at Khartoom must have

advised the Government very badly, for almost immediately after the

discharge of the grant allowed to the Poncets the settlement passed

into other hands, and Ghattas junior obtained for himself and for his

heirs the whole of the productive territory.

[Sidenote: SLAVE DEALING.]

Many may think that a resolution of the Government to monopolise the

ivory trade in this district would augur well for the future, and that

the results would inevitably tend towards a reform of the existing

club-law, but it is really very doubtful whether such a change would

benefit the poor oppressed natives. It is true that by a larger outlay

of capital than the Khartoom merchants can afford the profits might be

considerably increased, and many sources of produce yet undiscovered

might be brought to light; but, as I have said before, there can never

be ensured a proper representative effectually to secure the interests

of the Viceroy. All these enterprises are more or less involved in the

slave trade, and a military occupation could not be thought of,

because only Nubians can endure the climate, and Nubians would never

submit to a regular discipline. Of the ineradicable propensity to

slave-dealing which has always shown itself in every Government

official, be he Turk or Egyptian, I will say nothing; but I may

venture to observe that neither a regular system of taxation nor the

suppression of the slave trade in the Upper Nile countries is possible

until Egypt shall have made good its footing in Darfoor, that great

nucleus of the Central African slave traffic, which has hitherto been

a place of refuge for all the criminals in the Egyptian Soudan, and

which affords a continual loophole of retreat for every outlaw of

Khartoom. The threat so often heard in the quarrels of the people, “I

will murder you, and escape to Darfoor,” is a striking illustration of

the estimate in which the district is held.

The inhabitants of Mvolo call themselves Lehssy, and in many

particulars of their habits they resemble the Mittoo and Bongo. In the

huts I frequently observed some singular wooden figures, the Penates

of the establishment, which had been erected to the memory of a

departed wife. Petherick describes the graves near Kirmo as adorned

with forked boughs, and bits of wood carved into the shape of horns,

exactly as I noticed them on the graves of the Bongo.

The district produces plenty of corn, and with its ample opportunities

for hunting and fishing supports a tolerably large population, which

has every appearance of being well fed. The Lehssy generally are of a

medium height, but I came across individuals of a strength of build

such as I saw nowhere else except among the Niam-niam. I was also

struck by the frequent occurrence of feet and hands disproportionately

large. Dongolo, the native overseer of Mvolo, was, on account of his

stoutness, called “bermeel,” a barrel; and another of the inhabitants

was nicknamed “elephant-foot.”

Distinct, in some respects, from what I had already seen was this

district of Mvolo. Far as the eye could reach, there extended a wide

grassy plain, broken by huge stones of fantastic outline and by

thickets or single trees. Graceful fan-palms waved above the groves,

and the autumn tints gave a rich colouring to the scenery, every rock,

with its covering of creepers, being a picture in itself. In the north

could be seen the three mountains near Awoory, like purple peaks in

the pale azure of the horizon. In the far distance the country had the

deep blue of an Italian sky, mellowed as it came nearer into peculiar

tints of grey and golden brown; whilst close to the foreground all was

bright with the varied hues of foliage, red, yellow, and olive-green

alternating with the freshness of the sprouting shrubs, the Indian red

of the ant-hills, and the silvery grey of the jutting rocks.

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE DISTRICT OF MVOLO.]

[Illustration: PONCET’S SERIBA IN MVOLO.]

The Seriba, like its environs, was unique of its kind. The formidable

appearance of the confused pile-work would have spoilt the night’s

rest of any one who had a very sensitive imagination. Something like a

picture I remember of the Antiquary’s dream, only without the sea, did

the complication of huts stand out against the tall blocks of granite

from which the fan-palms started like proud columns. The huts

themselves, on their platform of clay, were like paper cones on a flat

table. In front was the great farmyard, with its hundreds of cattle

under the charge of Dinka servants. These neatherds erect for

themselves crooked awnings on equally crooked piles, and sit huddled

up on a soft bed of ashes round the ever-glowing dungheaps, inhaling

with delight their favourite fumes. These pile-works undergo many

modifications in design, and have been imitated from the strongholds

made by the natives when they were still masters of the land. The

principal use of these structures is to afford places of refuge from

hostile attack.

[Sidenote: ROCK-RABBITS.]

Quite in keeping with the fantastic scenery and eccentric architecture

is the peculiarity of the rock-rabbits that dwell among the crevices

of the gneiss. Immediately after sunset, or before sunrise, they can

be seen everywhere, squatting like marmots at the entrance to their

holes, into which, at the approach of danger, they dart with wonderful

snorts and grunts. The noise they make has caused the Nubians to

bestow upon them the general name of “kako.” There is, however, a

great variety of species, hardly distinguishable from each other,

scattered throughout the Nile countries, every district seeming to

present its own special representative of the race. Not only are they

found in the mountains of Abyssinia and of Upper Sennaar, but they

inhabit those isolated mounds and hills which give its peculiar

character to the landscape in Southern Kordofan and the province of

Taka. Again, they appear in the mountains of the Bayooda steppes, and

play a prominent part in Southern Africa; whilst other species are

found in Arabia, in the Sinai peninsula, and in the Syrian mountains.

Those that I saw in Mvolo nearly correspond with the Abyssinian

species depicted by Bruce. They appear to feed chiefly on the bark of

trees, although they occasionally devour young shoots and grass.

Abdoo, the controller of Mvolo, was half a naturalist: as a huntsman

he had done service under many Europeans, and had acquired a

reputation for being a skilful stuffer of birds. He drew my particular

attention to the good sport afforded by the rock-rabbits, as they

crept about in tempting proximity to the gate of the Seriba. At the

same time, he asked if I could account for the wonderful way in which

the animals managed to clamber up and down smooth rocks that were

almost perpendicular.

“I can’t tell,” he said, “how it is, but when you have shot one of the

creatures, and catch hold of it, it sticks to the rock with its feet,

in its death struggles, as though it had grown there.”

The under part of the foot is dark and elastic as india-rubber, and

has several deeply-indented cushions.[38] This arrangement, which no

other mammalia or warm-blooded animals seem to possess, enables the

creature, by opening and closing the centre cleft, to throw off part

of its weight and to gain a firm hold upon the smooth surface of the

stone. The toes are nothing but pads of horny skin, without regular

nails, the hind foot alone being furnished, on the inner toe, with one

claw, which is sharply compressed. For some time I could not at all

comprehend how, with such a plump foot, the rock-rabbit could climb so

safely over precipitous walls of granite, or even along the polished

branches of the little trees in the ravines; but the mystery was

solved when I tried to pick up an animal which I myself had wounded.

The granite was as smooth as pavement, and yet, when I seized the

creature by the neck, it clung like birdlime to the ground, and

required some force before it could be removed.

Although many other species of rock-rabbits or rock-badgers have been

observed by scientific travellers, and although the animals take a

conspicuous place in the fauna of Southern Africa, yet I have never

come across any mention of this interesting circumstance. My

observations may be discredited, but I have endeavoured to render them

as accurately as possible, in the hope that future travellers will

give further attention to the subject.

The largest specimens that I killed were females with young, and they

measured about ten inches in length. They were remarkably like wild

rabbits, of a grey tint; the males being much lighter, and having a

sharply-defined white stripe running about two inches along the middle

of the back. The females of this species produce two perfectly-developed

offspring at one birth. The flesh is like that of a common rabbit, and

quite as much requires an artificial dressing to make it palatable.

[Sidenote: ANIMALS AROUND MVOLO.]

Other interesting animals find their habitats among the rocks of

Mvolo. The pretty little tan-coloured squirrels (_Sciurus

leucumbrinus_), with two white stripes on either side, of a kind which

is often seen on the steppes of Nubia, are here very abundant. There

are also swarms of agamas, nodding their orange-coloured heads; the

movements of these creatures are anxiously watched by the

rock-rabbits, which first utter a note of alarm, and then retreat as

nimbly as marmots to their holes, from which they never venture far

away. Not unfrequently have I waited half-an-hour before their heads

have appeared again.

The inevitable Guinea-fowl, of course, was to be found running through

the grass, also a kind of francolin, the cocks with tails erect, like

little bantams. As my good entertainment in the Seriba made me

independent of the chase for my sustenance, I only killed a few

specimens of this pretty bird. Francolins, which abound in other parts

of Africa, are very rare throughout the district of the Gazelle. On

the third day after my arrival in Mvolo, I was once more on my feet

and able to take an excursion to some rapids about half a league to

the north-east. The river divides into three branches, and rushes

impetuously over a bed chequered with blocks of granite. Two of the

larger islands were covered with dense bush-woods, and a charming

hedge of borassus-palm lined the banks. The main stream passes in

equal parts through the northern and southern arms. The first of these

forms a precipitous fall of fifty feet, and, wildly foaming, dashes

into the hollow among the rocks—the entire descent of the river at

these rapids being at least a hundred feet. The river makes a bend

round the Seriba, and a quarter of a league to the east, above the

falls, it is once more flowing in its ordinary bed, which is a hundred

feet wide. The smooth blocks of stone were as clean as marble, and the

water between was as clear as crystal; the fan-palms and luxuriant

bushes spread a cooling shade over the pools, and everything conspired

to form a spot that might be consecrated to the wood-nymphs and to the

deities of the streams. It was a place most tempting for a bath—a

pleasure from which I had been long debarred. The noxious properties

of the waters which I had hitherto visited, as well as the dread of

fever, had obliged me to forego all such pastimes; but now I thought I

might indulge without fear of evil consequences. Fish are here so

abundant, that whoever bathes is liable to find himself molested by

their bites.

I rambled about the woods on the slopes of the opposite valley, and

made many an interesting discovery. In great luxuriance grew a

remarkable cucumber (_Cucumis Tinneanus_), which is covered by curious

and long appendages. Throughout the district of Mvolo a shrub, which

has already been naturalised in our conservatories under the name of

_Tinnea æthiopica_, is particularly plentiful; its wood is used by the

Nubians for pipe-stems. Its boughs, like those of the weeping-willow,

trail to the ground. I gazed with silent emotion on a plant which

seemed to mourn the fate of the brave traveller by whom, with her

tender appreciation of the beauties of nature, it had formerly been

delineated.

At a short distance to the north was pointed out to me the village of

Dugwara, where the natives, as we could hear, were performing on their

nogara.

[Sidenote: DUGWARA.]

I had now reached a point at which my route, for the first time since

I left the Meshera of the Bahr-el-Ghazal, came in contact with

localities whose position is pretty well determined. Mvolo itself had

never been actually visited by its former owners, but in 1859 Jules

Poncet, during the course of his extensive elephant hunts, had crossed

the Rohl somewhere below this spot.[39] The route of the British

Consul, J. Petherick, in 1863, lay along the opposite bank of the

Rohl, and through Dugwara. My own surveys, corresponding as they did

with other routes which had preceded my own, offered very satisfactory

results; they agreed very accurately in establishing the position

which had been assigned to the Meshera on Arrowsmith’s map[40] of

Petherick’s travels between 1858 and 1863, so that I had occasion

hardly at all to shift the geographical position of Dugwara. On all

earlier maps the Meshera was invariably marked too, far to the west,

and the Gazelle was carried half a degree beyond its actual length.

The time I occupied, both on my outward and homeward journey, in the

navigation of the river, allowed me ample opportunity to verify the

correctness of these calculations of my own. I do not know what

materials Arrowsmith had at command to authorize him in making the

fortunate amendment; Petherick certainly did not agree with the

alterations, and, according to his computation, the longitude of this

section of his route on the Rohl would have been twenty miles farther

eastwards than on Arrowsmith’s map—a position which, for various

reasons, must be improbable.

I had to undergo many little discomforts before leaving this

interesting region. The black soldiers and slaves belonging to the

Seriba thought that, because I was a white man, I must be the actual

brother of the owner, and accordingly they came to me with all kinds

of grievances. Contrary to the Controller’s orders, a number of

Niam-niam soldiers insisted on following me everywhere, and I was

obliged to remonstrate with them rather sharply, to make them

understand that I could not permit them to join my people, and that my

retinue was large enough already. The female slaves betook themselves

for refuge to my hut, bringing their complaints of the rough usage

they received from their angry owners, but which it was only too

probable they deserved for their faithlessness. The Nubians, on their

part, were loud in demanding judgment from me as to their claims on

some or other of these runaway women. I can only say that I was very

glad to make my escape, and to find myself afresh upon my journey to

the west. I was accompanied by a small herd of cows, calves, and

sheep—a present from the controller, who, moreover, forced an

excellent donkey upon my acceptance.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER WOHKO.]

After a stiff march of seven leagues and a-half, through a district

with few watering-places, and little interest beyond occasional clumps

of the lofty kobbo-tree,[41] we were once more in the territory of the

Mittoo, and had reached one of Poncet’s smaller Seribas, called Legby.

There was a second Seriba, named Nyoli, about three leagues to the

south-east, which I did not visit, as its inhabitants were all busied

with a grand _battue_ for elands. These Seribas in the Mittoo country

had only been founded in the previous year—they were on the direct

road to the Monbuttoo, and had been intentionally pushed forward

towards the territory of the Madi, in order to ensure advantageous

quarters for elephant-hunting. The greater part of this region, which

previously had been a sort of No-man’s-land, had been recently

appropriated to himself by a successful _coup_ of the enterprising

Aboo Sammat. From Legby to Ngahma was another five and one-third

leagues. The road descended, in a W.N.W. direction, straight down to

the Wohko, which we now crossed for the fourth time. We had also to

ford two other of the rivulets that traverse the country, which is a

good deal broken by hills and eminences. The ground had been quite

cleared by the burning of the steppe, and although there had been no

rain, a number of perennial plants were sprouting up and covering the

bare surface of the soil with their variegated bloom. Many of the

trees, such as the _Combreta_ and _Butyrosperma_, of which the flowers

appear before the foliage, were in full blossom. Two especially

attracted my attention, because they entirely fail in more northern

regions—these were the _Xeropetalum_, with its beautiful bright-red

flowers, not unlike mallows, and the _Stereospermum_, which bore

grotesque bunches of bloom, resembling red thimbles. They were both in

their full beauty, and to some extent reminded me of the floral

luxuriance of the Abyssinian highlands.

While in Ngahma, I heard that Aboo Sammat, with his entire fighting

force, had withdrawn from Sabby, for the purpose of inspecting his

numerous Seribas in the south. It was his first year of possession,

and he had gone to feel his way, preparatory to the taxation of the

country. Meanwhile, all provisions had been exhausted in Sabby, and if

I had ventured to return thither, it would have been at the risk of

being starved. I therefore myself resolved to pursue my course in a

southerly direction, in order to cast in my lot with Aboo Sammat,

until the time drew near for our expedition to the Niam-niam country.

The first halting-place at which we arrived, after a march of seven

leagues, was the little Seriba Karo, in the Madi district. The road

passed to the S.S.E. by a small mound of granite, of which the sterile

flats were inhabited by rock-rabbits; we then advanced over granite

flats until we reached a spot where an extensive table-land lay open

to the south. Once again we crossed the Wohko, and proceeded along its

right bank. The river here has all the characteristics of a periodical

stream, and was now standing in lagoon-like basins. The width of the

stony bed, and the deep holes washed in the huge blocks of granite,

which are covered to a considerable height with the mossy

_Podostemmonea_, are proofs of the abundance and violence of the water

in the height of the rainy season. Looking W.S.W., I was greatly

surprised by the unexpected sight of some elevated rocky peaks.

Amongst them, and about four leagues distant, was the point called

Wohba, near Deraggo, which I afterwards visited. This isolated range

extends as far as the Wohko, and there terminates in a ridge 80 to 100

feet in height. Near Karo the stream forms a defile 40 to 50 feet

deep, enclosed by regular hills. The banks, which were very steep,

were concealed by the impenetrable shade of magnificent trees

(_Hexalobus_), reminding me very much of the true chestnut.

The Mittoo display a remarkable talent for music, and construct a

great variety of instruments. The most important of these is a lyre

with a sounding-board, not unlike the robaba used by the people of

Nubia. The soldiers in all the Seribas manifest their African origin

by the zeal with which in their leisure they practise the musical art.

I noticed one of the Madi with a bamboo flute of quite an European

pattern, and at my request he played what was really a very pretty

air, which must have cost him considerable time and trouble to learn,

so perfect were the separate modulations: when the Nubians heard him

they paid him the compliment of saying that he played as well as any

Frank musician in Alexandria.

From Karo I went on still southwards for three leagues to Reggo,

another small Seriba belonging to Poncet’s company, and where the

elephant-hunters were quartered. The road thither led chiefly through

cultivated fields that had been planted with Penicillaria. I also for

the first time observed the culture of the sweet potato (_Batatas_), a

favourite food of the Niam-niam. This had a singularly sweet taste,

and a purplish rind, which occasionally deviated into white; the

largest tubers of this in the Madi country never exceed the thickness

of a finger.

[Sidenote: RECENT SCARCITY OF ELEPHANTS.]

The Poncets had founded settlements in this part of the country in

order to hold their own against the wide incursions which Aboo Sammat

was making from his territory in the same direction. The company laid

claim to the sole right of ranging the district, a demand which was

only consistent with their original interest in the ivory produce. The

hunters are called “Sayadeen,” because they are armed with huge

rifles, which have been gradually introduced into the country from

Khartoom. Only a few days previously they had killed two elephants,

which represented a whole year’s success. In former years the Poncets

had commanded the expeditions in person, and then a corps of these

hunters would in a single year secure as much ivory as would equal the

largest quantity now gathered from the aggregate of the Niam-niam

lands. Although the period of which I speak was not more than fourteen

years ago, these large collections have become completely things of

the past. In the present Seriba district, it is now expected to make a

journey of some days before there is any likelihood of catching sight

of an elephant at all; the wary beasts, too, appear instinctively to

know the regions in which they can be safe. They live to a great age,

and I do not doubt but that all the oldest representatives of the

elephant community have been at some time or other attacked by man,

and that many have been actually under fire. In the Dinka country

there are places such as I have already mentioned, in the woods of the

Alwady tribe, where elephants may be seen during the rainy season.

When I asked the Khartoomers why they did not go and get the ivory

themselves, they always replied that such hunting would be a sorry

failure, and that while they were shooting the elephants the natives

would be shooting _them_.

In Reggo the soldiers were fond of breeding dogs, and the Seriba

literally swarmed with the fat pups of the Niam-niam breed. I found,

moreover, that the people managed to do a little quiet business for

themselves by bartering dogs for slaves to the Mittoo. Dog’s flesh,

too, they enjoyed as much as the Niam-niam, and the price given for an

animal affords a proof of the relish they have for the dainty; the

teeth form a favourite ornament for necklaces and stomachers.

The first of January, 1870, appeared, beginning a new link in the

unbroken chain of time. It was the second New Year that I had

commenced in Central Africa, and although for me the day passed

quietly and with no rejoicing, yet I was filled with thoughts of

gratitude that I had been spared so long. Although one cloud and

another might appear to loom in the uncertain future, yet the

confidence I felt in my acclimatisation enabled me with good courage

to proceed upon my wanderings.

[Illustration: Goggo, a Mittoo-Madi Chief.]

The next place that we reached was Kurragera, the most southern point

of Aboo Sammat’s newly-acquired territory. The march had occupied

about five hours, and on our way we had for the sixth time crossed the

Wohko. Previously we had halted in the village of one of the Madi

elders, who bore the melodious name of Kaffulukkoo; I had also the

honour of an introduction to another chief, called Goggo, of whom I

was able to secure a portrait. His imposing peruke was not of his own

hair, nor indeed was it hair at all, but consisted of an artificial

tissue of woven threads, which were soaked with yellow ochre and

reeking with grease.

[Sidenote: KURRAGERA.]

Kurragera’s Seriba, like Aboo Sammat’s other settlements, had been

entirely cleared of its soldiers, and only the local overseer of the

Madi remained to look after the corn-stores. Inside the palisade were

piled thousands of the bearers’ loads, each neatly packed into a

circular bundle, and protected by the simple and effectual coverings

made by the natives from leaves and straw. These packages contained a

preliminary portion of the corn-stores. Almost every product of the

soil that I have described in Chapter VI. was here to be seen, and in

addition were the sweet potatoes cultivated by the Madi.

Aboo Sammat at this time, with his whole available fighting force, was

encamped on the Wohko about three leagues to the south. With the help

of 250 soldiers, and more than 300 Bongo and Mittoo bearers, he had

put the entire country in the south and south-east, from beyond the

Rohl nearly as far as the frontiers of the so-called Makkarakkah,

under contribution. The tribes in the more immediate neighbourhood

were the Madi-Kaya, the Abbakah, and Loobah, which manifestly occupied

the same district to which, in 1863, Petherick’s agent Awat made an

expedition. Many chiefs submitted voluntarily to the taxation; others

remained hostile for a period, but afterwards surrendered all their

stores to the enemy _à discrétion_. The region was so productive that

the number of bearers did not nearly suffice to carry away the goods

that had been seized. The enterprise was accomplished without any loss

of blood.

I was compelled to stay for some days in Kurragera to await Aboo

Sammat’s return, and began to get somewhat weary, as amongst the flora

I could find little that was suitable for my collection; I had besides

used up all the pencils I had brought with me, and was obliged to

write with hen’s blood. Meanwhile, as in Awoory and Ngahma, I

continued my study of the Mittoo language, and took a great deal of

pains to unravel the intricacies of the Madi method of counting, to

which I shall have another occasion to refer hereafter.

The butter-trees were now in full bloom. The milky juice that exudes

from the stems of these trees reminds one of gutta-percha, which is a

secretion of a species of the same order of plants (_Sapotaceæ_). I

often saw the children making balls with the lumps of caoutchouc,

which served as universal playthings. In 1861, Franz Binder, the

Transylvanian, formerly a merchant in Khartoom, brought a

hundredweight of this india-rubber to Vienna, but although the

material turned out very well in a technical point of view, the cost

of its transport was too great for it ever to become an important

article in the commerce of these lands.

On the 7th of January, Aboo Sammat, with the greater number of his

soldiers and bearers, returned to the Seriba. He wished to display his

authority in a way that should make an impression upon me, and

therefore set apart an entire day for festivities on a large scale.

His people were divided according to their tribes into groups of 500,

and each of these had to execute war-dances worthy of their commander.

Aboo Sammat himself seemed ubiquitous; in a way that no other Nubian

would have done without fancying himself degraded, he arrayed himself

like a savage, and at one time with lance and shield, at another with

bow and arrow, danced indefatigably at intervals from morning till

night at the head of the several groups; he was a veritable

Nyare-Goio, _i.e._, master of the ceremonies; here he was dancing as a

Bongo, there as a Mittoo; then he appeared in the coloured skin apron

of the Niam-niam, and next in the costume of a Monbuttoo: he was at

home everywhere, and had no difficulty in obtaining all the necessary

changes of apparel. Several of the Bongo of Sabby exhibited a talent

for theatrical representations, and to the great delight of the

Nubians they enacted the scene of how Aboo Sammat surprised and

thrashed the Mukhtar Shereefee; they improvised a recitative

accompanied by corresponding action, the purport of which was to tell

how Mukhtar was hit with a stick, and tumbled into the straw hedge

crying like a Deloo-buck, “ba mi oah!” (alas! alas!). Then followed

the refrain, “Madrislalla, illalla, illalla.” Between the parts there

was an incessant firing; the guns were loaded with whole handfuls of

powder, so that it was several minutes before the clouds of smoke

rolled away from the groups of dancers. The continual noise and dust

tired me far more than the longest day’s march I had ever undertaken.

[Sidenote: SPEECH OF THE KENOOSIAN.]

On the following day the Kenoosian convoked an assembly of the

newly-subjugated chiefs of the Madi, and in a long speech impressed

upon them their obligations. I was a witness of the characteristic

scene, and as the interpreter freely translated sentence by sentence

to the negroes, I did not lose a word of Mohammed’s oration. With

terrible threats and imprecations he began by depicting in the

blackest colours the frightful punishments that awaited them if they

should disobey his orders, while at the same time he plumed himself

upon his magnanimity.

“Look you!” he said; “I don’t want your wives and children, nor do I

intend to take your corn, but you must attend to the transport of my

provisions; and I insist that there shall be no delay, or else the

people in the Seriba will starve. You, Kuraggera, must go to your

villages, and gather together old and young, men and women: get all

the boys who can carry anything, and all the girls who bring water

from the brook, and you must order them one and all to be here early

to-morrow; every one of them will have to convey the corn to Deraggo;

the bales are of all sizes, and each may carry in proportion to his

strength. But mark you this: if one of the bearers runs away, or if he

throws down his load, I will tear out your eyes; or if a package is

stolen, I will have your head.” And here Mohammed lifted a huge weapon

like the sword of an ancient German knight, and brandished it rapidly

over the head of the Madi chieftain. Then turning to another, he

proceeded: “And I have something to say to you, Kaffulukkoo; I know

that Poncet’s people have been here lately, and have carried off two

elephants; now how did they contrive to find them? Bribed you were,

bribed so that you sent messengers to inform them where the elephants

might be found. And you, Goggo, why do you permit such proceedings in

your district? Now listen: if Poncet’s people come back, you must

shoot them; this must not happen again, or you shall pay for it with

your life; and if any one of you takes ivory to a strange Seriba, I

will have him burnt alive. Now, I think you understand pretty well

what you ought to do. But I have something else to say, just to

caution you in case you may have any intention of injuring my people.

Perhaps, as a Turk may be walking alone, the negroes may creep into

the grass, and shoot him with their arrows: what of that? Rats may

bury themselves in the ground, and frogs and crabs may hide in their

holes, but there is a way, you know, to find them out; snakes may

creep about in the straw, but to that we can set fire. Or, perhaps,

you will try to burn the steppes over our heads: never mind, I can

light a fire too, and you shall pay dearly for your treachery. Do as

you did before, and run away to the caves at Deraggo, and I will shoot

you there with shitata (cayenne pepper) from my elephant rifle, and

you will soon be glad enough, half choked and stupefied, to come out

again and beg for mercy. Or, supposing the negroes try and poison the

shallow khor, and any Turks drink that water and die—don’t be

expecting to fly away like birds, or to escape my vengeance!” And much

more there was in the same strain.

I had sent my cattle from Ngahma direct to Sabby, and, after laying in

a sufficient stock of provisions, I prepared to return as soon as I

could to my head-quarters, in order to have time to complete the

necessary arrangements for the campaign in the Niam-niam countries.

Before leaving Kurragera, I witnessed another amusing scene in Aboo

Sammat’s endeavours to make the chiefs understand the number of

bearers he required. Like most other people of Africa, the Madi can

only count up to ten, everything above that number having to be

denominated by gestures. At last some bundles of reeds were tied

together in tens, and then the negro, although he could not express

the number, comprehended perfectly what was required of him. Kurragera

was obliged to furnish 1530 bearers, and being asked whether he

understood, made an affirmative gesture, took the immense bundle of

reeds under his arm, and walked off gravely to his village. We moved

on through the day in company with an enormous train of 2000 bearers

of both sexes and of every age. Keeping on continually in a northerly

direction, after a march of eight leagues we reached the Seriba

Deraggo. The Deraggo mountains were visible several leagues distant to

the north, and afforded some desirable stations for verifying my

route. By the side of one of the Roah tributaries, called Gooloo,

which, however, we did not cross, we halted for a while, and I

employed the interval in shooting guinea-fowl, ordinary poultry in

this district being somewhat scarce.

[Sidenote: DERAGGO.]

For the first time since I had quitted Egypt, I spent the night in

Deraggo without my bedding: the servant who had the charge of it had

left it behind in Kurragera. On all my tours, I never failed in being

extremely careful not to omit anything that without material expense

could contribute to my health and comfort. I had learnt enough to know

that the more the traveller contrives to spare himself exhaustion from

fatigue, the more he will be able ultimately to perform, and the

greater will be his security against the baneful influences of the

climate. A perfect, or even reliable, acclimatisation is not to be

thought of until after some years’ experience, and any attempt to

hasten it by rash exposure, or by unnecessary hardship, is quite

unavailing.

I spent one day in a visit to the neighbouring mountains, which, lying

about a league to the east of the Seriba, extended for about three

leagues to the north-east. The loftiest and most southerly peak is

called Wohba, and is about 500 feet high: it contains some remarkable

caves, which I had not time to visit; they were the same referred to

by Aboo Sammat when he threatened to drive out the Madi with

pepper-dust, a hint which might be taken by any future general who may

desire to smoke out the unhappy Bedouins from the caves of Algeria. I

contented myself with mounting an eminence about 300 feet high, called

Yongah. The western horizon and the mountains of Awoory were

unfortunately obscured by a dense smoke from the burning of the

steppe; but the little hills between Ngahma and Karo were distinctly

visible. I also noticed in the W.S.W. a mountain known as Gere, which

I afterwards saw again when returning from the Niam-niam countries, as

I was passing along the basin of the Lehssy. The chain of Deraggo is

formed of a bright-coloured gneiss. A valley broke in near the spot

which I explored, and along the entrance the Madi had dug a row of

pits forty feet deep for the purpose of catching elephants. Hither,

from a wide circuit, they hunt the animals, which, hastily rushing

into the valley, fall headlong into the trenches which have been

artfully concealed.

The Seriba Deraggo was situated in the eastern part of a valley gently

sloping towards the mountains. From the depth of this depression there

issued an important brook, whose bed at this season contained a series

of huge pools. We now again turned westwards towards the Roah, in

order that I might visit Kuddoo, the last of Aboo Sammat’s Seribas,

which lies exactly south of Dokkuttoo, and thirty miles higher up the

river. We were obliged to make a wide _détour_ to avoid the mountains,

and, after a stiff march for five leagues in a W.N.W. direction, we at

length reached our destination.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER ROAH.]

The Roah flows close by Kuddoo in a deep basin enclosed with forest,

and describes a semicircle about the Seriba. The river was now from

thirty to fifty feet wide; in the rainy season it is as much as

fifteen feet deep, whilst in the winter its depth rarely exceeds four

or five feet. The channel of the river was here entirely overarched

with verdure; in some places the lofty trees starting from the dense

woods met across the water, and formed bowers of foliage, whilst the

fallen stems below made natural bridges. Very feeble were the rays of

light that penetrated to the surface of the water, and the long

creepers trailed from the overhanging branches. The force of the

current caught the pendants, and made the tree-tops bend and the

leaves all rustle as though moved by the hands of spirits. Large

monkeys found congenial habitation in the branches, the river

vegetation offering many of the fruits on which they can subsist. At

times the beauty and abundance of the blossoms surpassed anything that

I had seen. Pre-eminent in splendour were the brilliant _Combreta_:

the masses of bloom gleamed like torches amid the dark green of the

thickets, whilst the golden sheen of the fruit intensified the marked

contrast of the tints. Any attempt to give a detailed account of the

beauties of Africa is entirely unavailing, and once again I refrain

from wearying the reader with any further repetition of my admiration.

Leaving Kuddoo, we marched for eight leagues near the left bank of the

Roah, and across the numerous little water-courses that intersect the

region, and flow down to the river on the right. At Degbe we

re-entered the road along which we had travelled on our outward trip,

and, passing through Dokkuttoo, we did not again quit our previous

route all the way to Sabby. As we approached Geegyee, the spot

notorious for the rapacity of the lion, my people betrayed an anxiety

still greater than upon their journey thither, for in Dokkuttoo the

intelligence had reached us that some lions had been again seen on the

previous day, and that several travellers who had come across them in

their march had only escaped by climbing up into the trees. This was a

circumstance that painted itself upon my fancy in such entertaining

details, that I could not resist the desire to see it acted out for my

own amusement. Accordingly, when we had reached the densest part of

the formidable forest, at a spot where the pathways were most crooked

and intricate, I bellowed out in the most despairing accents I could

command, the cry of “A lion! a lion!” In an instant the bearers had

flung down their burdens, and my brave Nubians scampered off to the

nearest tree. Nimbly as sailors up the rigging of a foundering ship,

did they clamber high into the boughs. I enjoyed my laugh as I made

them see what brave fellows they were.

We here saw in all directions the recent traces of numbers of

elephants, which must have crossed our path in many places during the

previous night. Our last bivouac was made on the banks of the Tudyee,

where we feasted on the flesh of two hartebeests, brought down from

among a number that had been feeding on the tender foliage of the

underwood. On the last day but one of the march, I had more exertion

than on any other of the twenty-four through which the excursion had

lasted; without once sitting down, I passed the entire day in hunting

and walking.

On the 15th of January I once more re-entered the hospitable huts of

Sabby, and was welcomed by the servants I had left behind, and almost

overpowered by the joyful caresses of my dogs. This tour to the east

had altogether extended over 210 miles, and I had thoroughly explored

the territory of a people who had hitherto been almost unknown, even

by name. I will now take a retrospect of the country I had just left,

and give a brief summary of my observations on its political

condition.

[Sidenote: THE MITTOO.]

In default of a national designation for a group of tribes speaking

almost the same dialect, and whose distinctive qualities appear mainly

in their slight differences of apparel, I should prefer to follow the

example of the Khartoomers, and call these people simply Mittoo; this

name, however, only really belongs to the most northerly of the group,

who call themselves Mittoo, or Mattoo, and there are four other tribes

who consider themselves equally distinct and independent, viz., the

Madi,[42] the Madi-Kaya, the Abbakah, and the Loobah. Their collective

country lies between the rivers Roah and Rohl, and for the most part

is situated between lat. 5° and 6° N. Towards the north it stretches

far as the territories of the Dinka tribes of the Rohl and Agar; on

the south it is bounded by the eastern extremity of the Niam-niam,

where the name of Makkarakkah has already been adopted in our maps.

But Makkarakkah and Kakkarakkah is a designation which the Mittoo use

for the Niam-niam taken in the gross, and not the name of any single

tribe. Out of their own mouth, whenever I referred to the soil upon

which I was standing, I had every proof that the Mittoo call their

land “Moro,” a name which Petherick on his map has attributed to the

entire district between lat. 4° 30´ and 6° N., which extends eastwards

from the Rohl to the Ayi.

All the Mittoo tribes are able to converse with each other, as their

languages present only such minor differences of dialect as might be

supposed would arise from their independent political position; the

Niam-niam, on the other hand, with just the same plurality of tribes,

preserve a uniformity of language which admits of scarcely any

variety. The Mittoo dialects in some of their sounds resemble that of

the Bongo, but taken as a whole, like all the distinctive languages of

the larger nations of the Gazelle, the Mittoo and the Bongo have very

little in common. As far as regards customs, dress, and household

appliances, it must be admitted that the Mittoo tribes most nearly

resemble the Bongo, and it almost might seem as if, in the history of

their development, they formed a transition between them and the

Niam-niam.

The subjection of the Mittoo to the Khartoomers must not be dated

earlier than the year preceding my visit. Although the country in a

limited sense had to a certain extent been partitioned amongst the

arbitrary and advancing companies of the Upper Nile, and

notwithstanding that its inhabitants had been in places reduced to a

condition of vassalage similar to that under which the Dyoor and Bongo

had been smarting for the last ten years, yet the entire subjugation

of the southern tribes, the Loobah and Abbakah in particular, might

still be described as incomplete. The Abbakah hitherto have been only

occasionally subject to the incursions of slave-catchers and

corn-stealers, and therefore they have neither the advantages nor the

disadvantages, whatever they may be, of actual vassals.

In the scale of humanity all the Mittoo tribes are decidedly inferior

to the Bongo: they are distinguished from them by a darker complexion,

and by a bodily frame less adapted to sustain exertion or fatigue.

During my visit to the Niam-niam countries, I had many opportunities

of seeing large bodies of bearers of both races, side by side, and was

then able to institute comparisons between the two. The Bongo vied

with each other in their powers of endurance, and would subsist for a

length of time upon mere roots without any perceptible change in their

appearance, whilst the Mittoo under the same ordeal would waste almost

to skeletons, and in a very short time would abandon all attempt at

work. Even in their own homes I hardly ever saw them with the

strongly-built frames of the sturdy Bongo. Nearly all the Mittoo who

were employed as bearers were afflicted with the guinea-worm. An

undesirable prerogative is this that the race have gained, that they

should nurture such a thorn in the flesh; for the guinea-worm is far

from universal, and makes selections as to what diversities of human

nature it shall choose to patronise.

[Sidenote: FERTILITY OF MITTOO COUNTRY.]

I failed to obtain any satisfactory explanation of this debility of

the Mittoo; their land is very productive, they are diligent

agriculturists, and they cultivate many a variety of cereals and

tuberous plants, as well as of oily and leguminous fruits. On account

of its fertility the land requires but little labour in its culture,

and throughout its extent displays a productiveness which is only

found for any continuance at rare intervals in the other countries

that I visited. It is especially noticeable between lat. 5° and 5° 30´

N., in the districts on the upper Roah and Wohko, which are liberal

stores for the sterile Nubian settlements on either hand. The district

of the Mbomo, which is adjacent to that of the Nganye of the

Niam-niam, between the rivers Lehssy and Roah, is also pre-eminent

among its neighbours for its extensive growth of maize.

[Illustration: Goat of the Bongo, Mittoo, Momwu, and Babuckur.]

The Mittoo breed the same domestic animals as the Bongo, viz., goats,

dogs, and poultry; they possess no cattle, and are on that account

ranked by the Dinka under the contemptuous designation of “Dyoor,”

which is intended to be synonymous with savages. They estimate the

dog, however, in a very different way from the Bongo, and by their

fondness for its flesh show that they are not many grades above the

cannibal. Bernardin de S. Pierre, in his ‘Études de la Nature,’ gives

it as his opinion that to eat dog’s flesh is the first step towards

cannibalism; and certainly, when I enumerate to myself the peoples

whom I visited who actually, more or less, devoured human flesh, and

find that among them dogs were invariably considered a delicacy, I

cannot but believe that there is some truth in the hypothesis.

[Sidenote: MUTILATION OF LIPS.]

The whole group of the Mittoo exhibits peculiarities by which it may

be distinguished from its neighbours. The external adornment of the

body, the costume, the ornaments, the mutilations which individuals

undergo—in short, the general fashions—have all a distinctive

character of their own. The most remarkable of their habits is the

revolting, because unnatural, manner in which the women pierce and

distort their lips; they seem to vie with each other in their

mutilations, and their vanity in this respect I believe surpasses

anything that may be found throughout Africa. Not satisfied with

piercing the lower lip, they drag out the upper lip as well for the

sake of symmetry.[43] To the observations I have made before about all

African tribes that in their attire they endeavour to imitate some

part of the animal creation, I may add that they seem to show a

special preference for copying any individual species for which they

have a particular reverence. In this way it frequently happens that

their superstition indirectly influences the habits of their daily

life, and that their animal-worship finds expression in their dress.

It is, however, difficult to find anything in nature collateral with

the adornment of the Mittoo women; and it surpasses all effort to

understand what ideal they can have in their imagination when they

extend their lips into broad bills. If our supposition be correct, the

Mittoo fashion perhaps only indicates a partiality for the spoonbills

and the shovellers with which these ladies may have some spiritual

affinity. The projections of the iron-clad lips are of service to give

effect to an outbreak of anger, for by means of them the women can

snap like an owl or a stork, or almost as well as the _Balæniceps

Rex_.

[Illustration: Lory, a Mittoo Woman.]

Circular plates nearly as large as a crown piece, made variously of

quartz, of ivory, or of horn, are inserted into the lips that have

been stretched by the growth of years, and these often rest in a

position that is all but horizontal; and when the women want to drink

they have to elevate the upper lip with their fingers, and to pour the

draught into their mouths.

[Illustration: Wengo, a Mittoo Woman.]

Similar in shape is the decoration which is worn by the women of

Maganya; but though it is round, it is a ring and not a flat plate; it

is called a “pelele,” and has no other object than to expand the upper

lip. Some of the Mittoo women, especially the Loobah, not content with

the circle or the ring, force a cone of polished quartz through the

lips as though they had borrowed an idea from the rhinoceros. This

fashion of using quartz belemnites of more than two inches long is in

some instances adopted by the men.

[Sidenote: MITTOO GARMENTS.]

The women of the Madi correspond in their outward garb with the Mittoo

in general; they make use of a short garment of mixed leaves and grass

like the Bongo. The men adopt the same kind of skin covering for their

loins as the Bongo, but they have one decoration which seems peculiar

to themselves; they wear in front something after the style of the

“rahad” of the Soudan or the “isimene” of the Kaffirs—a short

appendage made of straps of leather, ornamented by rings and scraps of

iron; but it is so narrow that it has almost the look of a

cat-o’-nine-tails. There are others who buckle on to their loins a

triangular skin which has every variety of rings and iron knick-knacks

fastened round its edge.

[Illustration: Loobah Woman.]

[Illustration: Cone of quartz worn in the lip (actual size).]

Occasionally there were to be seen some broad girdles covered with a

profusion of cowries, such as the Niam-niam were said to wear; but

hitherto the Madi were the only people I had met with who retained any

value for cowries, which for some time had ceased to be held in much

repute in the Gazelle district. The mode of wearing these conchylia

was to split off their convex backs and to fasten them on so as to

display only the white orifices.

[Illustration: Apron worn by the Madi.]

Like the northern Bongo the Mittoo disdain devoting their attention to

the decoration of their hair: men and women alike wear it quite short.

The portrait of Goggo has already furnished a representation of one of

their elaborate perukes.

The plucking out of the eyelashes and the eyebrows is quite an

ordinary proceeding among the women. The men have coverings for their

head the same as the Niam-niam. The accompanying portrait of Ngahma

shows such an article of headgear, suggesting the comparison either of

a Russian coachman’s hat, or of the cap of a mandarin. They are very

fond likewise of fixing a number of iron spikes to a plate which they

fasten behind the head, and to these they attach strings of beads and

tufts of hair. The Madi make also a sort of cap rather prettily

ornamented with coloured beads and which fits the head tight like a

skull-cap.

It is only among the men that tattooing is practised on a large scale,

the lines usually radiating from the belly in the direction of the

shoulders like the buttons on certain uniforms; the women merely have

a couple of parallel rows of dotted lines upon the forehead. The

variety is very great of the ornaments which they construct out of

iron and copper, consisting of bells, drops, small axes and anchors,

diminutive rings, and platters, and trinkets of every sort. All the

women wear a host of rings in their ears.

[Sidenote: MITTOO ORNAMENTS.]

These tribes have the same liking for iron chains as the Niam-niam and

the Monbuttoo. Whatever they attach to their bodies they attach by

chains; and they are very inventive in their designs for armlets and

rings for the ankles. The armlets very often have a projecting rim,

which is provided with a number of spikes or teeth, which apparently

have no other object than to make a single combat as effective as

possible.

[Illustration: Ngahma, a Mittoo Chief.]

Even amongst these uncultured children of nature, human pride crops up

amongst the fetters of fashion, which indeed are fetters in the worst

sense of the word; for fashion in the distant wilds of Africa tortures

and harasses poor humanity as much as in the great prison of

civilisation. As a mark of their wealth, and for the purpose of

asserting their station in life, both sexes of the Mittoo wear chains

of iron as thick as their fingers, and of these very often four at a

time are to be noticed on the neck of the same individual. Necklaces

of leather are not unfrequently worn strong enough to bind a lion;

these impart to the head that rigidity of attitude given by the high

cravats at which we wonder so much when we look at the portraits of a

past generation. When the magnates of the people, arrayed in this

massive style, and reeking with oily fat, swagger about with sovereign

contempt amongst their fellow mortals, they are only as grand as the

slimy diplomatists, solemn and stiff, who strut along without

vouchsafing to unlock one secret from their wary lips. These necklaces

are fixtures; they are fastened so permanently in their place that

only death, decay, or decapitation can remove them. I was never

fortunate enough to see the mysterious operation by which these

circles were welded on, but I know that when the rings are soldered to

the arms and ankles, fillets of wood are inserted below the metal to

protect the flesh from injury.

[Sidenote: MITTOO MUSIC.]

Amongst the many particulars in which the Mittoo are inferior to the

Bongo, it may be noticed that their huts are not only smaller, but

that they are very indifferently built. Many of them could be covered

by a crinoline of lavish proportions. In their musical instruments,

however, and in their capabilities for instrumental performances, they

are far superior to any of their neighbours. Instead of the great

“manyinyee,” or wooden trumpet of the Bongo, they make use of long

gourd flasks with holes in the side. They have also a stringed

instrument which may be described as something between a lyre and a

mandolin; five strings are stretched across a bridge which is formed

from the large shell of the Anodont mussel; the sounding board is

quadrangular, covered with skin, with a circular sound-hole at each

corner. The instrument altogether is extremely like the “robaba” of

the Nubians, and constitutes one of many evidences which might be

adduced that the present inhabitants of the Nile Valley have some real

affinity with the tribes of the most central parts of Africa. The

flute is made quite on the European principle, and is most expertly

handled by the Madi, who bestow much attention on mastering particular

pieces. Small signal-horns made with three apertures are in general

use amongst the tribes of the district; but the slim trumpet called

“dongorah” is peculiar to the Mittoo; it is about eighteen inches

long, and resembles the “mburah” of the Bongo. Music is in high

estimation amongst the tribes which compose this group, and it may be

said of them that they alone have any genuine appreciation of melody,

negro music in general being mere recitative and alliteration. I once

heard a chorus of a hundred Mittoo singing together; there were men

and women, old and young, and they kept admirable time, succeeding in

gradual cadence to procure some very effective variations of a

well-sustained air.

[Illustration: Mittoo Lyre.]

[Illustration: Mittoo air.]

The implements in general differed very little from the industrial

contrivances of the Bongo. Their iron-work is rougher and clumsier;

but they take a great deal of pains in forming their arrow-tips,

having scores of devices for shaping the barbs. One of their ordinary

utensils is a crescent-cut ladle with a long handle for stirring their

soup.

Graves, for the most part are seen like those of the Bongo; they

consist of a heap of stones supported by stakes, on which is placed

the flask from which the deceased was accustomed to drink; both Mittoo

and Bongo too, as might be conjectured, have the same method of

disposing of their dead, and erect the carved wood penates which have

been already mentioned.

The use of the bow and arrow gives the Mittoo a certain warlike

superiority over the Dinka, and among their neighbours they are

considered to surpass the Bongo in their dexterity in archery. Their

bows are four feet long, and of an ordinary form. Like the Monbuttoo,

who have shorter bows, they use wooden arrows which are about three

feet in length. The heads of these arrows reach to the middle of the

length. The Mittoo despise the cumbrous protection of a shield, but

they are careful to keep a liberal supply of spears.

FOOTNOTES:

[38] Bruce (vol. v., description of plate 24) expressly

mentions the circumstance of the soft flesh standing up

high on both sides of the indentation.

[39] ‘Le Fleuve Blanc: Notes géographiques de Jules

Poncet,’ is the best publication on the White Nile that I

know. It gives reliable details of J. Poncet’s interesting

journey, and specifies many characteristics, founded on

some years’ experience, of the different people of the

district.

[40] Journal R. G. S., vol. xxxv.

[41] A new species of _Humboldtia_ which unites the

characteristics of the _Berlinia_ with those of the

_Crudya_.

[42] These Madi, whose name is of frequent occurrence in

Africa, have no connexion with the Madi of the upper part

of the Bahr-el-Gebel.

[43] The mutilation of both lips was also observed by

Rohlfs among the women of Kadje, in Segseg, between Lake

Tsad and the Benwe.