CHAPTER XX.FROM SHENDY TO KHARTOUM.Arrival at Shendy—Appearance of the Town—Shendy in Former Days—We Touch at El Metemma—The Nile beyond Shendy—Flesh Diet vs. Vegetables—We Escape Shipwreck—A Walk on Shore—The Rapids of Derreira—Djebel Gerri—The Twelfth Cataract—Night in the Mountain Gorge—Crocodiles—A Drink of Mareesa—My Birth-Day—Fair Wind—Approach to Khartoum—The Junction of the Two Niles—Appearance of the City—We Drop Anchor.
Arrival at Shendy—Appearance of the Town—Shendy in Former Days—We Touch at El Metemma—The Nile beyond Shendy—Flesh Diet vs. Vegetables—We Escape Shipwreck—A Walk on Shore—The Rapids of Derreira—Djebel Gerri—The Twelfth Cataract—Night in the Mountain Gorge—Crocodiles—A Drink of Mareesa—My Birth-Day—Fair Wind—Approach to Khartoum—The Junction of the Two Niles—Appearance of the City—We Drop Anchor.
The morning after visiting the ruins of Meroë I reached the old Ethiopian town of Shendy. It lies about half a mile from the river, but the massive fort and palace of the Governor are built on the water’s edge. Several spreading sycamore trees gave a grace to the shore, which would otherwise have been dull and tame. Naked Ethiopians were fishing or washing their clothes in the water, and some of them, as they held their long, scarlet-edged mantles above their heads, to dry in the wind and sun, showed fine, muscular figures. The women had hideous faces, but symmetrical and well developed forms. A group of Egyptian soldiers watched us from the bank before the palace, and several personages on horseback, one of whom appeared to be the Governor himself, were hailing the ferryboat, which was just about putting off with a heavy load of natives.
We ran the boat to the shore, at a landing-place just above the palace. The banks of the river were covered with fields of cucumbers and beans, the latter brilliant with white and purple blossoms and filled with the murmuring sound of bees. Achmet, the raïs and I walked up to the capital—the famous Shendy, once the great mart of trade for the regions between the Red Sea and Dar-Fūr. On the way we met numbers of women with water-jars. They wore no veils, but certainly needed them, for their faces were of a broad, semi-negro character, and repulsively plain. The town is built in a straggling manner, along a low, sandy ridge, and is upwards of a mile in length, though it probably does not contain more than ten thousand inhabitants. The houses are mud, of course, but rough and filthy, and many of them are the same circulartokulsof mats and palm-sticks as I had already noticed in the smaller villages. The only decent dwelling which I saw had been just erected by a Dongolese merchant. There was a mosque, with a low mud minaret, but neither in this nor in any other respect did the place compare with El Mekheyref. The bazaar resembled a stable, having a passage through the centre, shaded with mats, and stalls on either side, some of which contained donkeys and others merchants. The goods displayed were principally blue and white cotton stuffs of coarse quality, beads, trinkets and the like. It was market-day, but the people had not yet assembled. A few screens of matting, erected on sticks, were the only preparations which had been made. The whole appearance of the place was that of poverty and desertion. Beyond the clusters of huts, and a mud wall,which ran along the eastern side of the town, the Desert extended to the horizon—a hot, white plain, dotted with clumps of thorns. On our return to the boat, the raïs pointed out the spot where, in 1822, Ismaïl Pasha and his soldiers were burned to death by Mek Nemr (King Leopard), the last monarch of Shendy. The bloody revenge taken by Mohammed Bey Defterdar (son-in-law of Mohammed Ali), for that act, sealed the fate of the kingdom. The seat of the Egyptian government in Soudân was fixed at Khartoum, which in a few years became also the centre of trade, and now flourishes at the expense of Shendy and El Metemma.
Burckhardt, who visited Shendy during the reign of King Leopard, devotes much space to a description of the trade of the town at that time. It was then in the height of its prosperity, and the resort of merchants from Arabia, Abyssinia, Egypt, and even Syria and Asia Minor. It was also one of the chief slave-marts of Central Africa, in which respect it has since been superseded by Obeid, in Kordofan. The only commerce which has been left to Shendy is that with Djidda and the other Arabian ports, by way of Sowakin, on the Red Sea—a caravan journey of fourteen days, through the country of Takka, infested by the wild tribes of the Hallengas and Hadendoas. Mek Nemr, according to Burckhardt, was of the Djaaleyn tribe, who are descendants of the Beni Koreish, of Yemen, and still retain the pure Arabian features. I was afterwards, during my stay in Khartoum, enabled to verify the declaration of the same traveller, that all the tribes of Ethiopia between the Nile and the Red Sea are of unmixed Arab stock.
The palace of the Governor, which was a building of considerableextent, had heavy circular bastions, which were defended by cannon. Its position, on the bank of the Nile, was much more agreeable than that of the city, and the garrison had settled around it, forming a small village on its eastern side. The white walls and latticed windows of the palace reminded me of Cairo, and I anticipated a pleasant residence within its walls, on my return to Shendy. As I wished to reach Khartoum as soon as possible I did not call upon the Governor, but sent him the letter of recommendation from Yagheshir Bey. From Shendy, one sees the group of palms which serves as a landmark to El Metemma, the capital of a former Ethiopian Kingdom, further up the Nile, on its opposite bank. This is the starting point for caravans to Merawe and Dongola through the Beyooda Desert. We passed its port about noon, and stopped a few minutes to let the raïs pay his compliments to the owner of our vessel, who was on shore. He was a little old man, with a long staff, and dressed like the meanest Arab, although he was shekh of half a dozen villages, and had a servant leading a fine Dongolese horse behind him. The boat of Khalim Bey, agent of the Governor of Berber and Shendy, was at the landing place, and we saw the Bey, a tall, handsome Turk in a rich blue and crimson dress, who sent a servant to ask my name and character.
The scenery of the Nile, southward from Shendy, is again changed. The tropical rains which fall occasionally at Abou-Hammed and scantily at Berber, are here periodical, and there is no longer the same striking contrast between desert and garden land. The plains extending inward from the river are covered with a growth of bushes and coarse grass, which also appears in patches on the sides of the mountains. The inhabitantscultivate but a narrow strip of beans and dourra along the river, but own immense flocks of sheep and goats, which afford their principal sustenance. I noticed many fields of the grain calleddookhn, of which they plant a larger quantity than of dourra. Mutton, however, is the Ethiopian’s greatest delicacy. Notwithstanding this is one of the warmest climates in the world, the people eat meat whenever they can get it, and greatly prefer it to vegetable food. The sailors and camel-drivers, whose principal food is dourra, are, notwithstanding a certain quality of endurance, as weak as children, when compared with an able-bodied European, and they universally attribute this weakness to their diet. This is a fact for the lank vegetarians to explain. My experience coincided with that of the Ethiopians, and I ascribed no small share of my personal health and strength, which the violent alternations of heat and cold during the journey had not shaken in the least, to the fact of my having fared sumptuously every day.
After leaving Shendy, the Nile makes a bend to the west, and we went along slowly all the afternoon, with a side-wind. The shores were not so highly cultivated as those we had passed, and low hills of yellow sand began to show themselves on either hand. The villages were groups of mudtokuls, with high, conical roofs, and the negro type of face appeared much more frequently among the inhabitants—the result of amalgamation with slaves. We saw numbers of young crocodiles which my sailors delighted to frighten by shouting and throwing sticks at them, as they sunned themselves on the sand. Wild geese and ducks were abundant, and the quiet little coves along the shore were filled with their young brood. During the day a large hawk or vulture dashed down to within a yardof the deck in the attempt to snatch a piece of my black ram, which Beshir had just killed.
The next morning we had a narrow escape from shipwreck. The wind blew strong from the north, as we reached a twist in the river, where our course for several miles lay to the north-west, obliging the men to take in sail and tow the vessel. They had reached the turning-point and the sail was blowing loose, while two sailors lay out on the long, limber yard, trying to reef, when a violent gust pulled the rope out of the hands of the man on shore, and we were carried into the stream. The steersman put the helm hard up, and made for the point of an island which lay opposite, but the current was so strong that we could not reach it. It blew a gale, and the Nile was rough with waves. Between the island and the southern shore lay a cluster of sharp, black rocks, and for a few minutes we appeared to be driving directly upon them. The raïs and sailors, with many cries of “O Prophet! O Apostle!” gave themselves up to their fate; but the strength of the current saved us. Our bow just grazed the edge of the last rock, and we were blown across to the opposite shore, where we struck hard upon the sand and were obliged to remain two hours, until the wind abated. I was vexed and impatient at first, but remembering the effect of a pipe upon a similar occasion, I took one, and soon became calm enough to exclaim: “it is the will of Allah!”
While the boat was making such slow headway, I went ashore and walked an hour or two among the fields of beans and dourra. The plains for several miles inland were covered with dry grass and thorn-trees, and only needed irrigation to bloom as a garden. The sun was warm, the bean-fields alive with bees, and the wind took a rich summer fragrance from thewhite and purple blossoms. Near one of the huts, I accosted a woman who was weeding among the dourra. She told me that her husband had deserted her and taken another wife, leaving her the charge of their two children. He had also taken her three cows and given them to his new wife, so that her only means of support was to gather the dry grass and sell it in the villages. I gave her a few piastres, which she received gratefully. In the afternoon we passed the main bend of the river, and were able to make use of the wind, which by this time was light. The sailor who had been left ashore during the gale overtook us, by walking a distance of eight or ten miles and swimming one of the smaller arms of the river. The western bank of the river now became broken and hilly, occasionally overhung by bluffs of gravelly soil, of a dark red color. On the top of one of the hills there was a wall, which the raïs pointed out to me askadeem(ancient), but it appeared too dilapidated to repay the trouble of a visit.
On the following day, the scenery became remarkably wild and picturesque. After passing the village of Derreira, on the right bank, the Nile was studded with islands of various sizes, rising like hillocks from the water, and all covered with the most luxuriant vegetation. The mimosa, the acacia, the palm, the sycamore and thenebbukflourished together in rank growth, with a profusion of smaller shrubs, and all were matted together with wild green creepers, which dropped their long streamers of pink and purple blossoms into the water. Reefs of black rock, over which the waves foamed impetuously, made the navigation intricate and dangerous. The banks of the river were high and steep, and covered with bushes and rank grass, above which the rustling blades of the dourra glitteredin the sun. The country was thickly populated, and the inhabitants were mostly of the Shygheean tribe—from Dar Shygheea, the region between Dongola and Berber. The sakias were tended by Dinka slaves, as black as ebony, and with coarse, brutish faces. At one point on the eastern shore, opposite the island of Bendi, the natives had collected all their live stock, but for what purpose I could not learn. The shore was covered with hundreds of camels, donkeys, sheep, cows and goats, carefully kept in separate herds.
After threading ten miles of those island bowers, we approached Djebel Gerri, which we had seen all day, ahead of us. The Nile, instead of turning westward around the flank of the mountain, as I had anticipated from the features of the landscape, made a sudden bend to the south, between a thick cluster of islands, and entered the hills. At this point there was a rapid, extending half-way across the river. The natives call it ashellàl(cataract), although it deserves the name no more than the cataracts of Assouan and Wadi-Halfa. Adopting the term, however, which has been sanctioned by long usage, this is the Twelfth Cataract of the Nile, and the last one which the traveller meets before reaching the mountains of Abyssinia. The stream is very narrow, compressed between high hills of naked red sandstone rock. At sunset we were completely shut in the savage solitude, and there we seemed likely to remain, for the wind came from all quarters by turns, and jammed the vessel against the rocks more than once.
The narrow terraces of soil on the sides of the mountains were covered with dense beds of long, dry grass, and as we lay moored to the rocks, I climbed up to one of these, in spite of the raïs’s warnings that I should fall in with lions and serpents.I lay down in the warm grass, and watched the shadows deepen in the black gorge, as the twilight died away. Thezikzakor crocodile-bird twittered along the shore, and, after it became quite dark, the stillness was occasionally broken by the snort of a hippopotamus, as he thrust his huge head above water, or by the yell of a hyena prowling among the hills. Talk of the pleasure ofreadinga traveller’s adventures in strange lands! There is no pleasure equal to that oflivingthem: neither the anticipation nor the memory of such a scene as I witnessed that evening, can approach the fascination of the reality. I was awakened after midnight by the motion of the vessel, and looking out of my shelter as I lay, could see that we were slowly gliding through the foldings of the stony mountains. The moon rode high and bright, over the top of a peak in front, and the sound of my prow, as it occasionally grated against the rocks, alone disturbed the stillness of the wild pass. Once the wind fell, and the men were obliged to make fast to a rock, but before morning we had emerged from the mountains and were moored to the bank, to await daylight for the passage of the last rapid.
In the mouth of the pass lies an island, which rises into a remarkable conical peak, about seven hundred feet in height. It is called theRowyàn(thirst assuaged), while a lofty summit of the range of Gerri bears the name ofDjebel Attshàn(the Mountain of Thirst). The latter stands on a basis of arid sand, whence its name, but the Rowyàn is encircled by the arms of the Nile. In the Wady Beit-Naga, some three or four hours’ journey eastward from the river, are the ruined temples of Naga and Mesowuràt, described by Hoskins. The date of their erection has been ascertained by Lepsius to be coevalwith that of Meroë. We here saw many crocodiles, basking on the warm sand-banks. One group of five were enormous monsters, three of them being at least fifteen, and the other two twenty feet in length. They lazily dragged their long bodies into the water as we approached, but returned after we had passed. The zikzaks were hopping familiarly about them, on the sand, and I have no doubt that they do service to the crocodiles in the manner related by the Arabs.
The river was still studded with islands—some mere fragments of rock covered with bushes, and some large level tracts, flourishing with rich fields of cotton and dourra. About noon, we passed a village on the eastern bank, and I sent Ali and Beshir ashore to procure supplies, for my ram was finished. Ali found only one fowl, which the people did not wish to sell, but, Turk-like, he took it forcibly and gave them the usual price. Beshir found somemareesa, a fermented drink made of dourra, and for two piastres procured two jars of it, holding two gallons each, which were brought down to the boat by a pair of sturdy Dinka women, whose beauty was almost a match for Bakhita. The mareesa had an agreeable flavor and very little intoxicating property. I noticed, however, that after Beshir had drunk nearly a gallon, he sang and danced rather more than usual, and had much to say of a sweetheart of his, who lived in El-Metemma, and who bore the charming name of Gammerò-Betahadjerò. Bakhita, after drinking an equal portion, complained to me bitterly of my white sheep, which had nibbed off the ends of the woolly twists adorning her head, but I comforted her by the present of half a piastre, for the purpose of buying mutton-fat.
As the wind fell, at sunset, we reached a long slope ofsnowy sand, on the island of Aūssee. Achmet went to the huts of the inhabitants, where he was kindly received and furnished with milk. I walked for an hour up and down the beautiful beach, breathing the mild, cool evening air, heavy with delicious odors. The glassy Nile beside me reflected the last orange-red hues of sunset, and the evening star, burning with a white, sparry lustre, made a long track of light across his breast. I remembered that it was my birth-day—the fourth time I had spent my natal anniversary in a foreign land. The first had been in Germany, the second in Italy, the third in Mexico, and now the last, in the wild heart of Africa. They were all pleasant, but this was the best of all.
When I returned to the vessel, I found my carpet and cushions spread on the sand, and Ali waiting with my pipe. The evening entertainment commenced: I was listening to an Arabian tale, and watching the figures of the boatmen, grouped around a fire they had kindled in a field of dookhn, when the wind came up with a sudden gust and blew out the folds of my idle flag. Instantly the sand was kicked over the brands, the carpet taken up, all hands called on board, and we dashed away on the dark river with light hearts. I rose before sunrise the next morning, and found the wind unchanged. We were sailing between low shores covered with grain-fields, and a sandy island lay in front. The raïs no sooner saw me than he called my attention to the tops of some palm-trees that appeared on the horizon, probably six or eight miles distant. They grew in the gardens of Khartoum! We reached the point of the broad, level island that divides the waters of the two Niles, and could soon distinguish the single minaret and buildings of the city. A boat, coming down from the White Nile, passedus on the right, and another, bound for Khartoum, led us up the Blue Nile. The proper division between the two rivers is the point of land upon which Khartoum is built, but the channel separating it from the island opposite is very narrow, and the streams do not fully meet and mingle their waters till the island is passed.
The city presented a picturesque—and to my eyes, accustomed to the mud huts of the Ethiopian villages—a really stately appearance, as we drew near. The line of buildings extended for more than a mile along the river, and many of the houses were embowered in gardens of palm, acacia, orange and tamarind trees. The Palace of the Pasha had a certain appearance of dignity, though its walls were only unburnt brick, and hishareem, a white, two-story building, looked cool and elegant amid the palms that shaded it. Egyptian soldiers, in their awkward, half-Frank costume, were lounging on the bank before the Palace, and slaves of inky blackness, resplendent in white and red livery, were departing on donkeys on their various errands. The slope of the bank was broken at short intervals by water-mills, and files of men with skins, and women with huge earthen jars on their heads, passed up and down between the water’s edge and the openings of the narrow lanes leading between the gardens into the city. The boat of the Governor of Berber, rowed by twelve black slaves, put off from shore, and moved slowly down stream, against the north wind, as we drew up and moored the America below the garden of the Catholic Mission. It was the twelfth of January; I had made the journey from Assouan to Khartoum in twenty-six days, and from Cairo in fifty-seven.