The country round Soba is level, as everywhere about here, to the foot of the Abyssinian mountains, and the soil, particularly at this season, dried up and black; the thicker vegetation is confined to the river shore, farther on, there are only single trees, now more frequent, now seldom.
I promised the sailors a sheep if we arrived early next morning at Kamlîn; for the wind was violent, and allowed us to make but little way. Our ship, too, does not go very fast, the sailors are not adroit, and, with the present low level of the water, the bark easily sticks in the sand-banks. We went almost the whole night, and arrived early at eight o’clock in Kamlîn.
The ancient place of the same name lies half an hour further up the river, and consists but of a few huts. The houses where we landed belong to a number of factories instituted four years ago, in conjunction with the late Ahmed Pasha, by Nureddin Effendi, a Catholic Koptic Egyptian, who has gone over to Islâm, and which yield a rich profit. A simple,honest, un-Oriental German, named Bauer, has erected a soap and brandy factory, which he himself conducts. A sugar and indigo factory is kept by an Arab. Bauer is the southernmost resident European that we have found in Mohammed Ali’s territories, and we were glad to find so excellent a conclusion to the long, little pleasing chain of Europeans, generally deteriorated in civilization, who preferred the government of Turks to their native country.[72]He has an old German housekeeper named Ursula, & funny, good-natured body, for whom it was a no less festal occasion to see German guests than for him. With joyful hurry she got out what European crockery she had, and the forks that were yet in being, and set baked chicken, vegetables, sausages, and excellent wheaten bread before us; at last, too, a cherry pie of baked European cherries (for our fruits do not grow in Egypt), in short, a native meal, such as we had never expected in thisultima Thule.
Before Bauer’s house we found the most southern Egyptian sculpture that we have seen, on a pedestal, a seated statue of Osiris, somewhat destroyed, done in a late style, in black granite, with the usual attributes, about two and a half feet high, which was discovered in Soba, and is not without interest, as the only monument of Egyptian art from that city.
The European furniture of Bauer’s room made a strange impression upon one here in the south among the black population. A wooden clock, made in theBlack Forest, ticked regularly on the wall; some half-broken European stools were ranged round the strong table, behind which a small book-shelf was put up, with a selection of German classics and histories, by the corner of a Turkish divan, which was also not wanting. Over the great table, and opposite the canopy-bed in the other corner, hung bell-pulls, leading to the kitchen. A curious Nesnas ape sometimes peeped in through the lattice by the door, and on the other side of the little court, one could see the busy Ursula in her purple, red-flowered gown, toddling backward and forward among the little, naked, black slaves, arranging this, that, and the other, with a somewhat scolding voice, and looking into the bubbling pots in the adjoining kitchen. We did not see her the whole morning, not even at the dinner, that she had prepared so well and tastily; after dinner, she first presented herself, with many curtsies, to receive our praises. She complained of the forlorn state of her cooking apparatus, and grumbled sadly at Herr Bauer for not leaving this horrid, dirty, and hot country, although he promised year after year to do it. She had accompanied him hither, had been eleven years in the country, and four at Kamlîn. Bauer intends in a year to go to Germany, and settle in Steiermark or Thüringen, with his savings, and turn farmer, like his father.
After table, the son of Nureddin Effendi sent us a complete Turkish dinner of from twelve to fifteen dishes, which we left, however, to the attendants after our European meal. We had also inspected the factories in the morning, and tasted the fine brandy (calledMarienbad), which Bauer chiefly prepares from the sugar-cane and dates. Business seemed to be in the best order, and the unusual cleanliness of the places, the vessels, and utensils, attest the care with which the establishment, only worked by slaves, is conducted. The pleasant impression that this visit made upon us was heightened by the discovery that Bauer possessed a second piece of the marble inscription already alluded to,[73]which had been found in the ruins of Soba. He presented me with the fragment, which was easily put together with the other piece, although even then the inscription was not perfected. The fragment exhibits on one side traces of twelve lines, on the other of nine. Here, too, the writing is easy to be read, but only the name[Koptic]is comprehensible. It is either a very barbarous Greek, or a peculiar language, spoken in former times at Soba. In fact, we know from Selim that the inhabitants of Soba possessed their sacred books in the Greek language, but also translated them into their own.
After paying the son of Nureddin Effendi a visit, we left with the promise to stay on our return.
From Kamlîn the shores run on at equal elevations. The character of a fluvial valley is lost. The deposited black earth has ceased; the steep high shores are composed of original earth and calcareous conglomerate, which, according to Bauer, is well capable of being burnt to lime.
On the morning of the 21st we came to a considerable bend in the river to the east; the wind became so unfavourable through it, that ourkhawasslanded, to impress the people of the vicinity to draw it. I went along the western shore for several hours to Arbagi, a deserted village, built of black bricks, but standing on the remains of another more ancient one, as I saw from the structures of burnt bricks. This place was once the chief centre of the trade of the Sudan, which has since turned itself to Messelemîeh. Soon after we found the two northernbaobàbtrees, which are here calledhómara. These giant trees of creation (andansonia digitata) are found from here southward more and more frequently, and from Sero they belong to the usual trees of the region. One trunk which I paced round measured more than sixty feet in circumference, and certainly does not belong to the greatest of the kind, as they are here not so frequent.[74]At this season of the year they were leafless, and stretched their bare, death-like boughs far over the surrounding green trees, which look like low bushes beneath it. Their fruit, calledgungulês,[75]I found here and there among the Arabs; they resemble pear-shaped melons, with a hairy surface. If the hard, tough shell be broken, a number of seeds are found inside, which aresurrounded with a dry, acid, but well-tasted mass. The leaves are five-fingered.
On the 22nd of February we arrived on the western shore by a little village, where the inhabitants, mere women and children, fled through the sandy plain to the woods, from fear of our appearance, probably as they expected to be impressed for the purpose of drawing the bark. On the opposite shore lay another village, whence we saw a stately procession of finely-dressed men in Arab and Turkish dresses, and some handsomely caparisoned horses, proceed to the river. It was the Kashef and the most noble sheiks of Abu Háras, to whom we had been announced by Ahmed Pasha, as we had determined to proceed hence with camels and guides into the desert of Mandera. The horses were destined for us, and we therefore rode to the house of the Kashef, to inquire again about the antiquities of Mandera and Qala. As the desert route to the coast of the Red Sea leads hence from those places, we found several persons who had been near them. From all their tales, however, I could but find that at these two places there are only fortress-like mounds, or at most roughly built walls, as a refuge for caravans, without any buildings or hieroglyphical inscriptions. At Qala there may be some camels and horses scratched in the rock by the Arabs, or some other people, like those we had seen in the great desert at the wells of Murhad.
We therefore determine to give up this journey, and instead of it go somewhat farther up the river, in order to learn the nature of the Nile stream, itsshores and inhabitants, as far as time would permit us.
At a short half-hour distance from Abu Háras we came to the mouth of the Rahad, which conveys a great quantity of water into the Nile in the rainy season, but was now almost dry, with only a little stagnant water, which may disappear altogether next month.
I left the bark as often as possible, to know as much of the shore as I could. To proceed farther inland, is impossible, from the almost impassable forests which line both shores. There stand in luxuriant magnificence the shadowy high-domed tamarind, the tower-likehómara(baobàb) the multi-boughed genius (sycamore), and the many species of slender gumrick sont trees. On their branches run in innumerable windings, like giant serpents, the creeping plants; to their highest bough and down to the earth again, where they close every space between the mighty trunk in union with the low bushes. Besides this there is scarcely one thornless tree or bush in ten, by which every attempt to penetrate the thick underwood is dangerous, indeed impossible. Several of the plants—thesitteratree for instance—have the thorns placed in pairs, and in such a manner that one thorn is turned forward, the other back. If any one come too near these boughs, it is certain that his clothes will carry away some inevitable traces, imperfectly to be remedied amidst these wilds. In other places, the thorn trees are most elegant; rising gracefully in the less thronged parts, like slender young birches. We distinguishedtwo sorts of these standing mingled together, and only differing that in one the bark, extending from the trunk to the most distant twiglet, is coloured like a mass of shining red veins, while that of the other is black; on both of them the long shining white thorns and green leaves come out in strong contrast.
Of the birds, fluttering round in great numbers, I recognized not one Egyptian species. I shot many, and had them stuffed by our cook, Sirian. Among them were fine silver-grey falcons (suqr shikl); birds calledgedâd el wadi, with horns on the nose, and blue lappets on each side of the head; black and white unicorn birds (abu tuko), with mighty beaks; black birds, with purple breasts (abu labba); great brown and white eagles (abu tôk), of which one measured six feet with extended wings; smaller brown eagles, calledhedâja; and black ones, calledráchame. The latter, which are more numerous toward Egypt, are the same represented in the hieroglyphics. The plover is principally found on the shore, with black crooked pricks at the joints of the wings, with the white long-leggedabu baqr(Cow-bird), which is accustomed to sit on the backs of buffaloes and cows.
We often see great bats flying about in broad day; their long golden wings glance gleamingly through the foliage, and suddenly they hang to the boughs, head downwards, like great yellow pears, and are easily shot; they have long ears, and a curious trumpet-formed nose.
Chase was also made on the monkeys, but they are difficult to catch from their agility. One daywe found a mighty tree full of monkeys. Some climbed quickly on our approach, and fled to the distant bushes; others hid themselves in the upper boughs; but some to whom both plans seemed hazardous, sprang with incredibly daring leaps from the highest branches of the tree, which was nearly a hundred feet in height, on to the little trees below, the thorny twigs of which bent low beneath their weight, without any of them falling; they gained their point, and escaped my gun.
The more south, the more crocodiles. The promontories of the islands are often covered with these animals. They usually lie in the sun, close to the edge of the water, opening their mouths and appearing to sleep, but they will not allow any one to approach them, but dive under the surface immediately, even if hit by the ball. Thus their capture is very difficult. Ourkhawass, however, struck a young one, only three feet in length, so well that it could not reach the waters. It was brought on board, where, to the horror of our Nesnas monkey, Bachit, it lived several days.
Not less impracticable than the crocodiles are the hippopotami, which we have occasionally seen in great numbers, but only with their heads above water. Once only a young Nile horse stood exposed on a sand islet, and allowed us to approach unusually near. Thekhawassshot and hit, but of course the ball did not penetrate the thick skin; then the fat animal with its shapeless head, large body, and short, elephant-like legs, broke into a highly comic gallop, in order to gain the adjacent water, where it soon disappeared. They usuallyonly land at night, when they make terrible havoc in the durra-field and other plantations by stamping and eating. No one knew here of any hippopotamus ever being taken alive.
We did not see any lions, but their roars were heard sounding through the moonlight nights; there is something solemn in the deep sonorous voice of this royal animal.
On the 24th of February we came to a second tributary of the Nile, the Dender, which is larger than the Rahad. I went some way up it, to see what was impossible to be seen at the embouchure, whether there was yet a stream, and found that above, where the water ran in little channels, there was still a current, but very weak; in the rainy season the Dender swelled to the height of twenty feet, as its bed shows; the shores were covered with cotton-bushes, pumpkins, and other useful plants.
The heat is not inordinate; in the morning, at eight o’clock, usually 23° R.; from noon, till about five o’clock, 29°; and at eleven at night, 22°.
The evenings we spend on board, then I have the geography explained to me by ourkhawass, Hagi Ibrahim, or take some Nubians to my camels, to learn their language. I have already prepared a long vocabulary of the Nubian language. On a comparison with other lists, in Rüppell and Cailliaud, I also found in Koldági one of the languages spoken in the southernmost part of Kordofan, many similar words, which testify a narrow connection between the two languages. The Arabs call the Nubian languagelisân rotâna, which I at first took for its actual name; it signifies, however, only aforeign language, distinct from the Arabic. Therefore if the three Nubian dialects are spoken of, they are not only called Rotâna Kenûs, Mahass, or Donqolaui, but also Rotâna Dinkaui, Shilluk, even Turki and Franki, Turkish and Frank,i. e.European gibberish. The same error is at the bottom of the now received designation of the Nubians as Berbers, and their language as the Berber language; for this is not their national name, or that of the language, as it is generally believed, but means originally the foreign-speaking persons, the Barbaros.[76]
On the 25th of February we landed near Saba Doleb; I sought for ruins, but only found tall, well-built cupolas of burnt brick, in the form of beehives, and erected in quite a similar manner to the Greek Thesauri, in horizontal layers. They are the graves of holy Arab sheikhs of a late era; the villagers did not know what date to assign for their erection. Under the cupola, in the middle of the building of fifteen to eighteen feet in diameter, is the long narrow grave of the saint, surrounded with larger stones and covered with a multitude of little ones, according to the superstition one thousand in number. I found six such domes, most of them half dismantled, some quite ruined, but two tolerably well preserved, and still visited; a seventh, probably the latest, was built of unburnt bricks.
At Wad Negûdi, a village to the west of the Nile, we found the first dilêb-palms,[77]with slender nakedtrunks and little bushy crowns, like date-palms in the distance, and dûm-palms close to it, by reason of the leaves. The fruit is round, like that of the dûm-palm, but larger. These trees are said to be more frequent on the eastern tributaries; here, on the Nile, they are found but in a very small district. The leaves are regularly divided into fan-like folds one under the other, and the stem has strong saw-like notches. With such a stalk the Rais of our vessel sawed off another leaf, which I had brought to the bark, to take with me. It is divided into sixty-nine points, and measures five feet and a quarter from that part of the stem where the fan begins, although it is but young, and therefore keeps its fans quite shut as yet. Another one, still larger, which had already unfolded itself, we put up in the bark as a parasol, in the shade of which we sat. The way to those palms we had to make through the giant grass thickets, shooting up stiffly and closely like corn, and covering great plains. The ends of the stalks were five or six feet above our heads, and even the tall camels, bred in this place, could scarcely see above them.
On the 26th of February, we arrived at the villageAbu el Abás, on the eastern shore. This is the principal place of the neighbourhood, and the Kashef living here, has authority over 112 villages. I there purchased, for a few piasters, of a Turkishkhawassa dog-ape. This is the holy ape of the ancient Egyptians,kynokephalos, dedicated to Thoth and the Moon, and appearing as the second of the four gods of the lower world.[78]It interests me to have this animal, which I have seen so innumerably represented on the monuments, about me for a time, and to observe the faithfully caught representations of its striking and usual characteristics in old Egyptian art. It is remarkable that this ape, so peculiar to Egypt in ancient times, is now only found in the south, and even there not very frequently. How many species of animals and plants, indeed manners and customs of men, with which the monuments of Egypt make us acquainted, are only to be found here in the farthest south of old Ethiopia, so that many representations,i. e.those of the graves of Benihassan, seem rather to picture scenes of this country than of Egypt. Thekynokephaloshas here no particular name, but only the general termgird(great ape). His head, hair, and colour, are not unlike those of a dog, whence hisGreek appellation. Occasionally, too, he barks and growls just like a dog. He is yet young, and very good-natured, but immeasurably cleverer than Abeken’s little dog and Nesnas monkey. He is very funny when he wants something good to eat, that he may see held in the hand. Then he lays his ears back, and knows how to express the greatest joy, but sits still, like a good child, and only smacks his lips like an old wine-taster. On seeing the crocodile, however, his hair ruffled up on his whole body, he cried out lamentably, and was scarcely to be held in his terror.
We arrived at the famous old metropolis of the Sudan, Sennâr, on the 27th of February, the king of which, before the conquering of the country by Ismaël Pasha, ruled as far as Wadi Halfa, and was supreme over a number of lesser tribute-paying kings. The place does not look now as if it had been so lately a royal city. Six or seven hundred pointed straw huts, (tukele) surround the ruins of red brick, where the palace formerly stood. The bricks are now used for the erection of a building for Soliman Pasha, who is to reside in Sennâr. It was so far finished, that the Vakil of the absent Pasha could hold his divan in it. We found him there, sitting in judgment. Many other people, Sheikhs and Turks were present; among them the Sheikh Sandalôba, the chief of the Arab merchants, and a relation of Sultana Nasr, with whom we afterwards became acquainted in her capital village Sorîba. We paid this distinguished man a visit in his house, at which honour he seemed much delighted. His chief chamber was a dark though lofty saloon, with a roof resting on two pillars and four half pillars, onto which we mounted, in order to get a view of the city.
In the meantime, an anqarêb was prepared for us in the court; mead (honey and water) was brought, and from the stable an hyæna, here called Morafil, and two young lions, of which the larger, actually the property of Soliman Pasha, was led to our bark, together with a couple of sheep, as a present from the Vakil. I had the animal tied up in the hold, and received a tear in the hand from his sharp claws, as a welcome. His body is already more than two feet long, and his voice is a most powerful tenor. Every morning now there is a tremendous row on board our not over large vessel, when we are drinking tea before the cabin early; the monkeys jumping merrily about, and the lion is let out from the hold on deck, which is given him during the day, and we are bringing the cups and pans into safety, which he tries to reach with his already strong and inquisitive claws.
On the 29th of February we arrived at nine o’clock in Abdîn. The wind was unfavourable on the 1st of March, and we proceeded but little, so that I had plenty of time for shooting birds. Toward evening I came to a village, lying very romantically in a creek of the river, which is here broader. Many huts built of straw poked their pointed roofs into the branches of thickly-leaved trees. Narrow tortuous paths, forming a real labyrinth, led among thorns and trunks from one hut to another, in and before which the black families were lying and the children playing by a sparing light. I asked for milk, but was referred to an adjoiningArab village, whither a man conducted me, armed with a lance, the general weapon of the country. By light brushwood and high grass we came to the great herds of cattle of the Arabs, who had pitched their mat huts about the grazing place. The Fellahs of this region are much browner than the wandering Arabs, although far from being negroes, and they seem to coincide with the Nubians in race.
On the 2nd of March we anchored by an island, near the eastern shore. At a little distance from the landing-place, the Rais perceived a broken crocodile egg at a spot newly dug. He dug away with his hands, and found forty-four eggs three feet down in the sand. They were still covered with a slimy substance, as they had only been laid the day before or in the past night. The crocodiles like to leave the river in a windy night, make a hole for the eggs, cover them up again, and the wind soon blows away every trace. In a few months the young ones creep out. The eggs are like great goose-eggs, but rounded off at both ends, as the latter are only at the large end. I had some boiled; they are eaten, but have an unpleasant taste, so I willingly yielded them up to the sailors, who ate them with a great appetite.
We landed near the deserted village of Dáhela, on the eastern shore, whence I proceeded alone inland for three-quarters of an hour. The character of the vegetation remains the same. The earth is dry and level; the inconsiderable hills and dales that occur are not original, but seem to have been formed by the rain. My goal was a great tamarind tree, which rose mightily amidst the low trees andbushes, and was encircled by a number of fluttering green and red birds, the species of which is yet unknown to me.
I came on my way, first to a colony, by Kumr betá Dáhela, where the inhabitants of that village hold theirvilleggiatura; for they stay here during the dry months, and return to their village on the river bank, at the beginning of the rainy season. The last village whither I came is called Româli, a little above that given in the map as Sero, which lies under the 13° N. latitude. On the hot and tiring way back I attended a burial. Silently and solemnly, without sound or sob, two corpses, wrapt in white cloths, were borne along onanqarêbsby several men, and laid in a grave of some feet deep in the forest near the road. Perhaps they had perished of the cholera-like complaint, which has now broken out with great violence in the southern regions.
We should have much liked to proceed to Fasoql, in the last province of Mohammed Ali, to see the change in the character of the country beginning at Rosêres, where so many novel forms of tropical vegetation and animal life present themselves; but our time was expended.
The Rais received the command to take down the masts and sails, by which the bark at once lost its stately appearance, and drove down the river with the current like a wreck. Soon the pleasant quiet of the vessel, that had seemed to fly along of itself, was interrupted by the yelling, ill-sounding songs of the rowers contending with the wind.
By the 4th, we were again at Sennâr, and onthe 8th, at an early hour, we reached Wed Médineh. This place is almost as important as Sennâr. A regiment of soldiers lies in barracks here, with the only band in the Sudan, and two cannons. We were immediately visited by upper military scribe Seïd Hashim, one of the most important persons of the place, whom we had already known in Chartûm.
We determined to visit Sultana Nasr (Victoria) at Sorîba, an hour and a half inland, partly to learn the character of the country further from the river, and partly to get some idea of the court of an Ethiopian princess. Seïd Hashim offered us his dromedaries and donkeys for this trip, and also his own society; so we rode away that afternoon into the hot, black, but scantily treed plain, and soon accomplished the uninteresting way on the sturdy animals.
Nasr is the sister of the mightiest and richest king (melek) in the Sudan, Idris wed (i.e.Welled, son or successor of) Adlân, who is certainly under Mohammed Ali’s supremacy now, but yet commands several hundred villages in the province El Fungi; his title is Mak el Qulle, King of the Qulle mountains. Adlân was one of his ancestors, after whom the whole family now calls itself; his father was the same Mohammed (wed) Adlân, who, at the time of Ismael Pasha’s conquering campaign had taken most of the power of the legitimate but weak king of Sennâr, Bâdi, but who was then murdered at the instigation of Reg’eb, another pretender to the throne. When Ismael had arrived, and Reg’eb and his company had fled to the Abyssinian mountains,King Bâdi united himself with the children and party of Mohammed Adlân, and submitted to the conqueror, who made him Sheikh of the country, had the murderers of Mohammed Adlân impaled, and gave his children, Reg’eb and Idris Adlân, great power and wealth. Nasr, their sister, also gained much consideration, which was, however, much increased, as she was allied to the legitimate royal family by her mother’s side. Therefore is she called Sultâna, Queen. Her first husband was named Mohammed Sandalôba, brother of Hassan Sandalôba, whom we had visited at Sennâr. He has now been dead for a long time, but she has a daughter by him, named Dauer (Light), who married a great Sheikh, Abd-el Qader, but then parted from him, and now lives with her mother, in Sorîba. The second son of Nasr is Mohammed Defalla, the son of one of her father’s viziers. He was then with Ahmed Pasha Menekle on the war march (ghazua, of which the French have maderazzia) in Saka. But even when he is at home, she remains the principal person in the house, by reason of her noble birth.
Since very ancient times, a great estimation of the female sex appears to be a very general custom. It must not be forgotten how often we find reigning queens of Ethiopia mentioned. From the campaign of Petronius, Kandake is well known, a name which, according to Pliny, was bestowed on all the Ethiopian queens; according to others, always on the mother of the king. In the sculptures of Meroë, too, we occasionally find very warlike, and doubtless reigning, queens represented. According to Makrizi, the genealogies of the Beg’a, whom I consider the directdescendants of the Meroetic Ethiopians, and for the ancestors of the Bishari of the present day, were not counted by the males, but by the females, and the inheritance did not devolve upon the son of the deceased, but upon the sister or the daughter. In the same way, according to Abu Selah, the sister’s son took precedence of the son among the Nubians, and Ibn Batuta reports the same custom to be existing among the Messofites, a western negro race. Even now, the court and upper minister of some southern princes are all women. Noble ladies allow their nails to grow an inch long, as a sign that they are there to command, and not to work, a custom which is found in the sculptures among the shapeless queens of Meroë.
When we arrived at Sorîba, we entered the square court-yard by a particular door, running round the principal building, and thence into an open, lofty hall, the roof of which rested on four pillars, and four half pillars. The narrow beams of the roof jut out several feet beyond the simple architrave, and form the foundation of the flat roofs; the whole entrance reminded one much of the open façades of the graves of Benihassan. In the hall there was fine ebony furniture, of Indian manufacture, broadanqarêbs, with frames for the mosquito nets. Fine cushions were immediately brought, sherbet, coffee, and pipes handed round. The vessels were made of gold and silver. Black female slaves, in light white garments, which, fastened at the hips, are drawn up over the bosom and shoulders,—handed round the refreshments, and looked very peculiar with their plaited hair. The Queen, however, did not come;perhaps she was ashamed of showing herself to Christians; only a half-opened door, which soon closed again, allowed us to perceive several women behind, to whom we ourselves might be objects of curiosity. I therefore let the sultana know, through Saïd Hashim, that we were there to pay our visits, and now hoped that we might have the pleasure of seeing her. Upon this, the doors of strong wood cased with metal, opened wide, and Nasr entered with a free, dignified step. She was wrapped in long fine-woven cloths, with coloured borders, under which she wore wide gay trowsers of a somewhat darker shade. Behind her came the court, eight or nine girls in white clothes with red borders, and elegant sandals. Nasr sat down before us, in a friendly and unconstrained manner; only now and then she drew her dress over her mouth and the lower part of the face, a custom of Oriental modesty, very general with women in Egypt, but much rarer in this country. She replied to the greetings I offered her through the Dragoman with a pleasant voice, but stayed only a short time, withdrawing through the same door.
We examined the inner parts of the house, with the exception of her private rooms, which were in a small building close, and mounted the roof to have a view of the village. Then we took a walk through the place, saw the well, in depth more than sixty feet, and lined throughout with brick, whence Nasr always has her water fetched, though it is warm, and less nice than that of the Nile. Then we returned, and were about to depart, when Nasr sent us an invitation to remain the night in Sorîba, as it wastoo late to get back to Wed Médineh by day. We accepted the offer, and a banquet of boiled dishes was immediately brought, only intended, however, as preparatory to supper. The sultana, however, did not show herself again the whole evening. We remained in the hall, and slept on the same cool pillows, which had served as a divan during the day. But the next morning we were invited by her to visit her in her own rooms. She was more communicative to-day than yesterday, had European chairs brought for us, while her servants and slaves squatted on the ground about us. We told her of her namesake, the Sultana Nasr of England, and showed her her portrait on an English sovereign, which she looked at with curiosity. But she manifested little desire to see that far-off world beyond the northern water with her own eyes.
About eight o’clock we rode back to Wed Médineh. Soon after our return, Saïd Hashim received a letter from Nasr, in which she asked him confidentially whether he thought I would receive a little female slave as a guest-present. I had expressed to her, in return, that this was against the custom of our country, but that the gift would be accepted if she would choose a male slave instead, and after some little hesitation, she really sent a young slave to me, who was brought to me in the ship.
He had been the playmate of the little grandson of Nasr, the son of her daughter Dauer, and was presented to me under the name of Rehân, the Arabic name for the sweet-smelling basil. It was added, that he was from the district of Makâdi, on the Abyssinian frontier, whence the most intelligentand faithful slaves generally came. This district is under Christian dominion, and is inhabited by Christians and Mahommedans, in separate villages. The former call themselves Nazâra (Nazarenes) or Amhâra (Amharic Christians), the latter Giberta. Of these Giberta children are often stolen from their own race and from among their neighbours, and sold to Arabic slave-dealers; for, in the interior of Abyssinia, the slave trade is strictly prohibited. This account of the lad, however, was soon found to be untrue, and was only invented to preclude the blame of offering me a Christian slave; while, on the contrary, it would seem much more wrong to deliver me a Mahommedan. The boy first told our Christian cook, and then me, that he was of Christian parentage, had received the name Rehân here, and that his real name was Gabre Mariam,i. e.in Abyssinian, “Slave of Maria.” His birth-place is near Gondar, the metropolis of Amhâra. He seems to belong to a distinguished family, for the place Bamba, which is denoted by Bruce in the vicinity of Lake Tzana, according to his story, belonged to his grandfather, and his father, who is now dead, had many flocks, which he himself had often driven to the pasturage. When he was somewhat far off his dwelling with them one day, about three or four years ago, he was stolen by mounted Bedouins, carried to the village of Waldakarel, and, afterwards sold to King Idris Adlân, who had given him to his sister Nasr. He is a handsome, but very dark-coloured boy, about eight or nine years of age, but much more advanced than a child of that age would be with us. The girls marry hereat the age of eight. He wears his hair in innumerable little plaits, which must be redone and anointed at least once a month, by a woman understanding it; his body, too, is rubbed with fat from time to time. His whole clothing consists of a great white cloth that he fastens round the hips, and throws over his shoulders. I now call him by his Christian name, and shall bring him to Europe with me.
Saïd Hashim tried his utmost to induce us to remain a few more days in Wed Médineh. On the first evening he invited us to his house with a number of the most considerable Turks, and had a number of female dancers to show us the national dances of the country, which consist chiefly in movements of the upper part of the body and the arms, as they are found on the Egyptian monuments, yet differing from the present Egyptian dances, which are made up of very ungraceful and lascivious movements and motions of the hips and legs.
An old good humoured and very comic man led the dances, singing Arabic songs having reference to persons in the room or those known to them, such as Nasr, Idris Adlân, Mak (i. e.Melek) Bâdi, and others, with a piercing but not unpleasant voice, and at the same time struck a five-stringed lyre with his left hand, beating time with the plectrum in his right. His instrument only extended to six tones of the octave. The first string to the right had the highest tone C, struck with the thumb; the next had the deepest E, then came the third with F, the fourth with A, the fifth with B. The instrument is called rabâba, the player rebâbi. This man had been instructed by an old famous rebâbi at Shendi,had made his instrument just like that of his master, also learning all his art of versification, and thus had become the black favourite bard of Wed Médineh. All his songs were composed by himself, sometimes improvised, and whoever offended himself or his patron became the target of a pasquinading song.
I sent for him the next day, and had four of his songs written down by Jussuf, one on Mohammed, son of the Mak Mesâ’d, who lives at Metammeh, one on King Nimr, who burnt Ismael Pasha, and is now living in Egypt, a third on Nasr; and, lastly, a song in praise of pretty girls.[79]It is impossible to give these melodies in notes. A little only, approaching our kind of music in somewise, have I written down. They are generally half recited, half sung, with wavering tones from the highest notes to the deepest tone long sustained. These are the most peculiar, but are utterly incapable of being expressed. Every verse contains four rhymes, on each of which it is easy to keep the voice, on the second more than on the first and third; but the longest on the final line, and to this always comes one of the same deep tones, giving the song a kind of dignified progression. A certain recurrence of the melody is first observable, but is not retainable for an European ear. I bought the friendly old man’s instrument, which he gave unwillingly, although I allowed him to fix the price himself, and several times a shade of sorrow passed over his expressivecountenance when he had taken the money and laid the instrument in its place. Next day I sent for him again. He was cast down, and told me that his wife had beaten him thoroughly for parting with the instrument. It is no shame for a man to be beaten by his wife, butvice versá. A beaten wife goes at once to the Kadi to complain, she generally obtains justice, and the husband is punished.
At Wed Médineh we witnessed a funeral, which seemed odd enough to us. A woman had died three days before; the first day after her decease, then the third, the seventh and later days have particular ceremonies. An hour before sunset above a hundred women and children had assembled before the house, and many more kept continually coming and cowering down beside them. Two daughters of the deceased were there, who had already strewn their highly-ornamented heads, powdered with fat in the Arab manner, with ashes, and rubbed the whole upper part of the body white with them,[80]so that only the eyes and mouth gleam freshly and as if inlaid from the white mask. The women wore long cloths round their hips, the young girls and children therahât, a girdle of close hanging straps of leather, generally bound about the loins, with a string prettily adorned with shells and pearls, and falling halfway down the thigh. A great wooden bowl of ashes was placed there, and continually replenished. Close to the door, on both sides, crouched female musicians, who partly clapped theirhands in time, with yelling, ear-piercing screams, partly beat the noisydarabúka(a kind of hand-drum, called here in the Sudandalúka), and partly struck hollow calabashes, swimming in tubs of water, with sticks. The two daughters, from eighteen to twenty years of age, and the nearest relations, began to move slowly towards the door in pairs, by a narrow lane formed in the midst of the ever-increasing mob. Then suddenly they all began to scream, to clap their hands, and to bellow forth unearthly cries, upon which the others turned round and began their horrible dance of violent jerks. With convulsively strained windings and turnings of the upper part of the body, they pushed their feet on, quite slowly and measuredly, threw their bosoms up with a sudden motion, and turned the head back over the shoulders, which they racked in every direction, and thus wound themselves forward with almost closed eyes. In this way they went down a little hill, for fifteen or sixteen paces, when they threw themselves on the ground, buried themselves in dust and ashes, and then returned to begin the same dance anew. The younger of the two daughters had a pretty slender figure, with an incredibly elastic body, and resembled an antique when standing quietly upright or lying on the ground with the head down, with her regular and soft, but immovable features and classical form, quite peaceably even during the dance. This dancing procession went on over and over again. Each of the mourners must at least have gone through it once, and the nearer the relationship the oftener it is repeated. Whoever cannot get up to the ash-tub takes ashesfrom the head of a neighbour to strew it on their own head. First, in this squatting assembly, some women crouch, who understand how to sob and to shed tears in quantities, which leave long black streaks on their whitened cheeks. The most prominent and disgusting feature of this scene is, however, that unrestrained passion has nothing to do with it, and that everything is done slowly, pathetically, and with evidently practised motions; children down to the ages of four or five years are put into the procession, and if they make the difficult and unnatural movements well, the mothers, cowering behind, call outtaib, taib, to them. “Bravo, well done!” The second act of this deafening ceremony, by the continual clapping, cries, and screams, is that the whole company of dancers throw themselves upon the ground and roll down the hill; but even this is done slowly and premeditatedly, while they draw their knees up to keep hold of their dress, poke their arms in also, and then roll away on their backs and knees. This ceremony begins an hour before sunset and continues into the middle of the night.
The whole of it causes, by its unnaturality surpassing everything else, an indescribable impression, which is rendered the more disagreeable, as one perceives throughout the empty play, the inherited and spoilt custom, and can recognize no trace of individual truth and natural feeling in the persons taking part in it. And yet the comparison with certain descriptions and representations of similar ceremonies among the ancients, teaches us to understand many things, of which, in our own life, weshall never form a proper estimate, until we have seen with our own eyes such caricatures of uncivilisation, occasionally shown to us by the Orient.
Next day we visited the hospital, which we found very clean, and in good order; it contains one hundred patients, but there are only twenty-eight at the present time. Then we proceeded to the barracks, in the large court of which the exercises are gone through. The commanding officer assembled the band, and had several pieces of music played. The first was theParisienne, which made a strange impression upon me amidst these scenes, as also the following pieces, which were mostly French, and known to me; they are tolerably performed. The musicians had scarcely any but European instruments, and have incorporated in their Arabic musical vocabulary our word trumpet, applying it, however, to the drum which they calltrumbêta, while they have for the trumpet a native name,nafir; the great flute they callsumára, the little onesufára, and the great drumtabli. There were only 1,200 men of the regiment (which consists of 4,000) present, almost all negroes, who poked out their black faces, hands, and feet, from their white linen clothes, and red caps like dressed-up monkeys, only looking much more miserable and oppressed than those animals. Yet we did not suspect that in two days, these people would rebel, and go off to their mountains.
Emin Pasha was hourly expected. On the 13th, however, I received a letter from him at Messelemîeh, four or five hours hence, in which he stated that he should first come to Wed Médineh the next day, and hoped to find us still there. At the same timehe informed me that the war in Taka was at an end, and that all had submitted. Some hundred natives were killed in the skirmishes; on the morning before the decisive battle, all the Sheikhs of the Taka tribes came to the Pasha to beg for mercy, which was granted them on the condition, that no fugitive should remain in the forest, which had been their chief resort. Next day he had the forest searched, and as there was nobody found, it was set on fire, and burnt down altogether. He is going on his way back through the eastern districts to Katârif, on the Abyssinian frontier, and thence to the Blue River. Scarcely had we read these news from Taka, ere the cannons at the barracks thundered forth the news of victory to the population.
In another letter, which Emin Pasha had received for me, Herr von Wagner gave me the pleasant news that our new comrade, the painter Georgi, had arrived from Italy, and had already left for Dongola, where he would await farther instructions. I shall write him to meet us at Barkal.
As we were certain by the letter to find the Pasha still in Messelemîeh, we departed thither at noon; we went by land, as the city is an hour and a half distant from the Nile.
The bark was meanwhile to follow us to the port of Messelemîeh,i. e.to the landing place nearest to this principal trading place of the whole Sudan. Besides Jussuf we took thekhawassand Gabre Máriam with us, who placed himself behind me on the dromedary, where there is always a little place left for an attendant, like the dickey of a coach; herides on the narrow back part of the animal, and holds on with his hands. The day was very hot and the ground burnt. The few birds which I saw were different from those inhabiting the banks of the river.
At about half way we came to a village called Tâiba, which is only inhabited byFukara, (pl. ofFakir). These are the literati, the holy men of the nation, a kind of priests, without exercising sacerdotal functions; they can read and write, allow no music, no dancing, no feasting, and therefore stand in great odour of sanctity. The Sheikh of this village is the supreme Fakir of the district. Everybody believes in him as a prophet; what he has prophesied, happens. The deceased Ahmed Pasha had him locked up a month before his death; “God will punish thee,” he returned in answer to the decree, and a month afterward the Pasha died. This is a very rich man, and owns several villages. We looked him up and found him in his house at dinner; about twenty persons were seated round a colossal wooden bowl, filled with boiled durra broth and milk. The bowl was pushed before us, but it was impossible for us to partake of this meal. We conversed with the old Fakir, who replied with free, friendly, and obliging dignity, and then asked our names, and our object in travelling. Every person who entered, even our servants, approached him reverently, and touched his hand with the lips and forehead. The office of Sheikh is hereditary in his family; his son, therefore, obtains almost as much honour as himself, and thus it is explicable how, when the Sheikh is a Fakir, the whole place maybecome a holy village. E’Damer, on the island of Meroe, was formerly such a Fakir place. The inhabitants of Tâiba, probably of Arabic race, call themselves Arakin. There are in this neighbourhood a number of such local names, the origin of which is difficult to be assigned.
When we had smoked out our pipes, we left this assembly of holy men, and rode off. Half an hour from Messelemîeh, we came to a second village called Hellet e’ Solimân. We dismounted at a house built by the deceased Mak or Melek Kambal of Halfâi, when he married the daughter of the Defalla, to whom the village belonged; now it is the property of his brother’s son Mahmûd Welled Shanîsh, who is also called Melek, but is only guardian of Kambal’s little son, Melek Beshîr. Thus we may see how it has fared here with the ancient honourable title of Melek (king). Mahmûd was not at home, as he had accompanied Ahmed Pasha in his campaign. However, we were entertained in his house according to the hospitable custom of the country. Carpets were spread, milk and durra bread (which does not taste ill) in thin cakes brought; besides another simple but refreshing drink,abreq, fermented sour durra water. Soon after Asser we arrived in Messelemîeh. Emin received us very kindly, and informed us Mohammed Ali’s prime minister, Boghos Bey, whom I had visited in Alexandria, was dead, and Artim Bey, a fine diplomatist of much culture, had been appointed to his place.
We refused the Pasha’s invitation to supper and night’s lodging, and soon rode off to the river, wherewe hoped to find our bark. As it had not arrived, we passed the night in the open air upon anqarebs. The next morning, the 15th of March, we pushed off for Kamlîn, and arrived there toward evening. The following day we passed with our countryman, Herr Bauer. After we had visited Nureddin Effendi at Wad Eraue, some hours from Kamlîn, we arrived the next day at Soba, where I immediately sent for a vessel found in the ruins of the ancient city, and preserved by the brother of the Sheikh. After waiting a long time it was brought. It proved to be an incense urn of bronze in open work; the sides of the rounded vessel, about three-quarters of a foot in height and breadth, were worked in arabesques; on the upper edge the chains had been attached to three little hooks, of which one is broken away, so that the most interesting part of the whole—an inscription in tolerably large letters running round the top, and workedàjour, like arabesques—is imperfect. This is of the more importance, as the writing is again Greek, or rather Koptic, as on the stone tablet, but the language neither, but without doubt the ancient language of Soba, the metropolis of the mighty kingdom of Aloa. Notwithstanding its shortness, it is of more importance than the tablet, that it also contains the Koptic letters[Koptic](sh) and[Koptic](ti), which are not to be found in the other. I bought the vessel for a few piasters. This is now the third monument of Soba that we bring with us, for I must add that we saw at Saïd Hashim’s, in Wed Médineh, a little Venus, of Greek workmanship, about a foot high, which had also been found in Soba, and was presented to me by the owner. On the 19th of March, we at length entered again the house of M. Hermanowitch at Chartûm, at a later date, however, than our former reckoning had settled, therefore I had already announced our being later in a letter to Erbkam from Wed Médineh.
Chartum.March 21, 1844.
Herewe first obtained more particulars concerning the military revolt at Wed Médineh, which was of the most serious nature, and we should have incurred great danger had we stopped two days longer in that city. The whole of the black soldiers have rebelled, owing to the stay of Emin Pasha. The drill-master and seven white soldiers were immediately killed, the Pasha besieged in his own house and shot at, his overtures disdained, the powder magazine seized. All the guns and ammunition fell into the hands of the negroes, who then chose six leaders, and went off on the road to Fazoql in six bodies to gain their mountain. The regiment here, in which there are at present about 1,500 blacks, was immediately disarmed, and confined to the barracks. The most serious apprehensions are entertained for the future, as Ahmed Pasha Menekle was so imprudent as to take almost all the white troops with him to Taka. For the rest, I might be glad of the flight of the blacks, as they were frightfully ill used by their Turkish masters. Still the revolt can easily put the country into disorder, and then re-act on our expedition. The blacks will, no doubt, endeavour to draw all their countrymen who meet them to their side, particularly the troops of Soliman Pasha, in Sennâr,and of Selim Pasha, in Fazoql; the whites are far too few in number to offer any prolonged resistance. The news have just arrived that five or six hundred slaves of the deceased Ahmed Pasha at the indigo factory at Tamaniât, a little to the north of this place, have fled to the Sudan with their wives and children, and intend to join with the soldiers. The same is said to have occurred at the factory at Kamlîn, so that we are in fear for our friend Bauer, who, though not cruel like the Turks, is strict.
March 26. A report is spreading that the troops at Sennâr, and the people of Melek Idris Adlân, had overcome the negroes. The Tamaniât slaves are also said to have been pursued by the Arnauts, and killed or dragged back, while the rebellion in Kamlîn has been suppressed. Little confidence can yet be placed in these reports, as the news came to me by ourkhawassfrom the people of the Pasha, and a wish was particularly expressed to me, that I should spread it further, and write it in my letters to Cairo.
As we were yesterday evening walking in the large and beautiful garden of Ibrahim Chêr, in whose airy well situated house, I write this letter, we saw lofty dark sand clouds rising up like a wall on the horizon. And in the night a violent east wind has arisen and is still blowing, and folds all the trees and buildings in a disagreeable atmosphere of sand, which almost impedes respiration. I fastened the windows and stopped the door with stones, for a sort of shelter from the first break of the storm; nevertheless, it is necessary to keepwiping away the covering of sand which continually settles on the paper.
I have come back so torn and tattered from my Sennâr hunting parties, that I have been obliged at length to determine on adopting the Turkish costume, which I shall not be able to change very soon. It has its advantages for the customs of this country, particularly in sitting on carpets or low cushions; but the flattarbooshis immensely unpractical under these sunny skies, and the innumerable buttons and hooks are a daily and very troublesome trial of patience.
March 30. We are about to leave Chartûm, as soon as this post of the Pasha is transmitted. The revolution is now definitely suppressed everywhere. It would, no doubt, have had a far worse ending, if it had not broken out some days too early in Wed Médineh. It had already been long planned and consulted on in secret, and was to have commenced simultaneously in Sennâr, Wed Médineh, Kamlîn, Chartûm, and Tamaniât, on the 19th of this month. The precipitation at Wed Médineh, had, however, brought the whole conspiracy into confusion, and had given Emin Pasha time to send a courier to Chartûm, by which the imprisonment and disarming of the negro soldiers here, was possible, ere the news of the insurrection had come to them. Emin Pasha, however, seems to have been quite incapable. The victory is to be ascribed to the courage and presence of mind of a certain Rustan Effendi, who pursued the six hundred negroes with one hundred and fifty determined soldiers, mostly white, reached them near Sennâr,and beat them down, after three attacks and heavy loss. More than a hundred of the fugitives surrendered, and have been led off in chains to Sennâr; the rest were killed in the fight or drowned in the river.
But at the same time the news has arrived, that an insurrection has broken out in Lower Nubia, at Kalabshe, and another village, on account of the imposts; and that therefore, both villages have been immediately razed by Hassan Pasha, who is coming to Chartûm in the place of Emin Pasha, and the inhabitants killed or hunted away.
Pyramids of Merοë.April 22, 1844.
Weleft Chartûm en the 30th of March, toward evening, and sailed half the night by moonshine.
On the next day we reached Tamaniât. Almost the whole village had disappeared, and only a single wide stretching ruin was to be seen. The slaves had laid everything in ashes on their revolt; only the walls of the factory are yet standing. As I had left the bark on foot, I was quite unprepared to come in the neighbourhood of the still smoking ruins, upon a frightful scene, in an open meadow quite covered with black mangled corpses. The greater part of the slaves, who had been recaptured, had here been shot in masses.
With sundown, we stopped near Suriê Abu Ramle, at a cataract, which we could pass by night.
On the first of April we went off long before dawn, and expected to get on a good distance. With the day broke, however, a heavy storm of wind, and as the ship could not be drawn near on account of the rocky shore, we were obliged to stop after a few hours, and lie still in the annoying thick sand air. Before us lay the single mountain chain of Qirre, whence, like sentinels, rose the Ashtân (the Thirsty) to the left, the Rauiân (the Satisfied) to the right, from the plain, the former being, however, more distant from the river.
The Rauian only lay about three quarters of an hour away from our bark; I went out with my gun, crossed the unfertile stony plain, and climbed the mountain, which is almost surrounded with water during the inundation, so that we were always told that the mount was on an island. The rock texture is a mixture of coarse and fine granite, with much quartz. On the way back we came by the village of Meláh, the huts of which lie concealed behind great mounds, formed by the excavations of the inhabitants for salt (malh), of which much is found in the neighbourhood. (Meláh is, therefore, the Arabic translation of Sulza.) Towards evening went farther into the mountains, and moored in a little creek. The succeeding day we also got on slowly. On the tops of the crags to the eastward, we perceived some black slaves, straying about like goats, who had probably escaped from Tamaniât, and will not long preserve their poor lives. They disappeared immediately on ourkhawassmaking the rude jest of firing into the air in their direction. I and Abeken climbed the western hills, which rose steeply from the shore to the height of two or three hundred feet. It is plainly to be seen on the rocks how high the river rises at high water, and deposits its earth. I measured thence to the present water-mirror, about eightmètres, and the river will yet sink a couple of feet.
From the mountain top we could see behind the last heights the wide desert which we should soon have to traverse towards Méraui. Reluctantly we quitted the picturesque mountains which had interrupted the generally even aspect of the country in so pleasant a manner.
On the morning of the 4th of April we at last reached our palm group at Ben Naga, and proceeded at once to the ruins in Wadi el Kirbegân, where we found part of a pillar and several altars in the south-western temple, newly excavated by Erbkam, upon which the same royal cartouches appeared as on those principal temples of Naga, in the wilderness. Of the three altars the middle one, hewn in very hard sandstone, was excellently preserved. On the west side the King, on the east side the Queen, were represented, with their names; on the two other sides two goddesses. There was also, on the north side, the hieroglyphic of the north engraven; and on the south side, that of the south. The two other altars showed the same representations. All three were seen in their places, and let into a smooth pavement, formed of square slabs of stone, with plaster poured over them. The means were unfortunately wanting at present for the transportation of the best of these altars, which weighed at least fifty hundred weight; I was, therefore, obliged to leave it for a particular expedition from Meroë.
On Good Friday, the 5th of April, we arrived at Shendi. We went into the spacious but very depopulated city; saw the ruins of the residence of King Nimr, in which, after a banquet he had prepared for Ismael Pasha, he had burnt him. Many houses yet bear the traces of the shots of Defterdar Bey, whom Mohammed Ali sent to avenge the death of his son. In the middle of the city stoodon an artificial height the private dwelling of King Nimr, now also in ruins. Somewhat up the river, distinct from the town, lies the suburb built expressly for the military garrison. We then returned to the bark, which had moored close by the fortress-like house of Churshid Pasha, where the Commandant now resides.
The same day we reached Beg’erauîe, shortly before sundown, and immediately rode to the pyramids, where we found Erbkam and the rest all well. At Naga and Wadi Sofra they were very industrious, and the rich costume of the Kings and Gods, and the generally styleless, but ornamented representations of this Ethiopian temple look very well in the drawing, and will form a shining part of our picture-book. Here, too, much had been done, and on the cleaning out of the earth-filled ante-chambers several new things were discovered. Abeken thought he had discovered the name of Queen Kentaki (Kandake) on our first visit. It now appears that the cartouche is not written
which would be read Kentahebi;[81]it seems to me,however, that the famous name is nevertheless meant, and the questionable sign has been interchanged by the ignorant scribes. The determinative signs[symbols]prove, in any case, that it is the name of a queen. Kandake was already known as a private name. The name Ergamenes is also found, and this, too, now properly written, sometimes with a misunderstood variant.
On the following holidays, we lighted our Easter fire in the evening. Our tents lie between two groups of pyramids in a little valley, which is everywhere overgrown with dry tufts of woody grass. These were set on fire, flamed up, and threw the whirling flames up into the dark star night. It was a pretty sight to see fifty or sixty such fires burning at once, and throwing a spectral light on the surrounding ruined pyramids of the ancient kings, and on our airy tent-pyramids rising in the foreground.
On the eighth of April, we were surprised by a stately cavalcade on horses and camels, which entered our camp. It was Osman Bey, who is now leading the army of 5,000 men back from Taka. In his company were the French military physician Peney, and the High Sheikh Ahmed Welled ’Auad. The troops had encamped near Gabushîe, at an hour’s distance up the river, and would pass through Begerauîe in the evening. The visit to our camphad, however, another end; which came to light in the course of conversation. Osman Bey was desirous of making his pioneers into treasure finders, and sent some companies hither to tear down the pyramids. The discovery of Ferlini is in everybody’s head still, and had brought many a pyramid to ruin. In Chartûm everybody was full of it; and more than one European, and the Pasha also, thought still to find treasures there. I endeavoured to convince them all anew that the discovery of Ferlini was the result of pure chance, that he did not find the gold rings in the tombs, the only place where such a search could be made with any reason, but in the rock, where they had been placed by the caprice of the owner. I tried to convince Osman Bey by the same arguments, who offered me his men for the purpose of commencing operations under my superintendence. Of course I refused, but should perhaps have taken advantage of the opportunity to open the tomb-chambers, the entrance of which would bebeforethe pyramids in the natural rock, had I not been afraid that I should arrive at no particularly shining result, and only disappoint the expectations of the credulous general, though not our own. I succeeded in diverting him from the idea; and for the present at least, the yet existing pyramids are saved. The soldiers have left us without making war against the pyramids.
I invited the three gentlemen to dinner with us, at which the old Sheikh got into a mess, as he always wanted to cut the meat with the back of his knife, until I myself laid aside the European instrument, and began to eat in good old Turkishstyle, when all soon followed me willingly, particularly my brave dark-skinned guest, who well saw my civility. After dinner, they mounted their stately horses again, and hurried to the river.
On the 9th of April, I sent Franke and Ibrahim Aga to Ben Naga, with stone-saws, hammers, and ropes, to bring the great altar hither. I myself rode with Jussuf to Gabushié, partly to return the visit of Osman Bey—whose intention had been to give a day of rest in our neighbourhood—partly to take advantage of the presence of the respected Sheikh Ahmed, through whom I hoped to obtain barks for the transportation of our things across the river, and camels for our desert journey. The army had, however, already proceeded, and had passed the next places. I therefore rode sharply on with Jussuf, and soon came up with the 400 Arnauts, forming the rear guard. They could not, however, inform us how far Osman Bey was in advance. The Arnauts are the most feared of all the military; as the rudest and most cruel of all, who are at the same time the best used by their leaders, as they are the only volunteers and foreign mercenaries. Some months ago, they were sent by Mahommed Ali, under a peculiarly dreaded officer, to the deceased Ahmed Pasha, with the command, as it was worded, to bring the Pasha alive or dead to Cairo. His sudden death, however, naturally put a period to their errand. That officer is named Omar Aga, but is well-known throughout the country under the less flatteringsobriquetof Tomas Aga (commandant cochon), once bestowed on him by Ibrahim Pasha, and which he has since considered it an honour to bear! His own servants so calledhim, when we came up with his horses and baggage, and asked for their owner.
After a sharp ride of five or six hours, under a most oppressive sun, we at length reached the camp near the village of Bêida.
We had gradually gone more than half-way to Shendi, and were rejoiced to find a prospect of refreshment after the hot exhausting ride, as we prepared ourselves to remain fasting until our return in the evening, for there was nothing to be got in the intermediate villages, not even milk.
Osman Bey and Hakîm Peney were as astonished as delighted at my visit; there were immediately handed round some goblets of Suri, a drink of difficult and slow preparation from half-fermented durra, having a pleasant acid taste, and a particularly refreshing restoring flavour with sugar. After breakfast I went through the camp with Peney, the tents of which were pitched in the most various and picturesque manner on a great place, partly overgrown and wholly surrounded with trees and bushes. An Egyptian army, half black, half white, torn and tattered, returning from a thieving incursion against the poor natives, is rather a different sight to anything that comes under our notice at home. Although the terrified inhabitants of Taka, mostly innocent of the partial revolt, had already sent ambassadors to the Pasha, in order to obviate his vengeance, and did not make the slightest resistance on the nearer approach of the troops, yet several hundred defenceless men and women who would not, or could not fly, were murdered by that notorious crew of ruffians, the Arnauts; an additional number of persons, supposed to have been concerned in the rebellion, Ahmed Pasha had beheaded in front of his tent, as they were brought in. After all the conditions had been fulfilled, after the heaviest mulcts demanded of them, under every possible name, had been punctually paid, the Pasha had all the Sheikhs assembled as if for a new trial, and together with 120 more, led away in chains as prisoners. The young powerful men were condemned to the army, the women were given up to the soldiers as slaves. The Sheikhs had yet to await their punishment.
This was the glorious history of the Turkish campaign against Taka, as it was related to me by European witnesses. Twelve of the forty-one Sheikhs, who seemed as if they would not survive the fatigue of the forced march, have already been shot. The rest were shown to me. Each wore before him a club or bludgeon five or six feet in length, which ended in a fork, into which his neck was fastened. The ends of the fork were connected by a cross piece fastened by thongs. Some of them, too, had their hands tied to the handle of the fork. In this condition they continue day and night. During the march, the soldier under whose care the prisoner is placed, carries the club, and at night the greater part of them have their feet bound together. Their raven tresses were all cut off, and only the Sheikhs still retained their great plaited headdress. Most of them looked very depressed and pitiful; they had been the most respected of their tribe, and accustomed to the greatest reverence from their inferiors. Almost all of them spoke Arabicbesides their own language, and told me the tribes to which they belonged. The most respected, however, of them all, was a Fakir, of holy repute, whose word was considered that of a prophet throughout the whole country. He had, by his words and demands, brought on the whole revolution. He was called Sheikh Musa el Fakir, and was of the race of Mitkenâb, and his personal appearance was that of an aged, blind, broken elder, with a few snow-white hairs; his body is now more like a skeleton, he had to be raised up by others, and was scarcely able to comprehend and answer the questions addressed to him. His little shrivelled countenance could not, under any circumstances, assume a new expression. He stared before him, fixedly and carelessly, and I wondered how such a scarecrow could have so much power over his countrymen as to cause the revolution. But it is to be remarked, that here, as in Egypt, all blind people stand in peculiar odour of sanctity, and in great repute as prophets.
After breakfast I had one of the Sheikhs, Mohammed Welled Hammed, brought into Osman’s tent, in order to ask him about his language, of which I knew nothing. He was a sensible eloquent man, who also employed the opportunity, which I readily granted him, to tell his history to Osman Bey and Sheikh Ahmed, and to declare his innocence with respect to the revolutionary movements. He was of the tribe of Halenka, of the village Kassala. I had the list of the forty-one Sheikhs and their tribes given me and copied. Six tribes had taken part in the revolt, the Mitkenâb, Halenka,Kelûli Mohammedîn, Sobeh, Sikulâb, and Hadenduwa (plural of Henduwa).