The rain is like that of a German May. On the right shore, a somewhat scanty forest, where we halt, at a quarter to five, on account of want of wood; at five, however, we bear off again, for these little mimosas afford us no wood. From S. to E.S.E.; a large lake again on the right. How much earth must the mountains of Bari and elsewhere supply before these shallow lakes can be elevated into land and fields! Half-past six; from E. by S. to the left in E. and E. by N., where it makes a leap to E.N.E. The wind has become slack: only two miles. Six o’clock; to E. There are many swallows flying over the reeds; they seem to be making a tour of pleasure with our deadly enemies the gnats. These birds may either not anticipate the rainy season, which is close at hand, (unless they are already on the road to our home,) or they remain here entirely, and most of them perish, as we have seen in Taka, where, however, the trees protect them. Half-past seven; E.N.E. On the right a large lake: we anchor in the middle of the river, and it begins to be dark. Thermometer, sunrise, 22°; noon, not above 27°; sunset 27°.
9th March.—We start, though it is raining, at six o’clock, and go E.S.E. and immediately E., and sail with a north-west wind to N.E. Seven o’clock; round the left to N.; immediately, however, to the right, E.N.E. and E. The wind has gone round to south east, and freshened, so that we make six miles. We see from the deck ten villages scattered at some distance on the left side, and a lake on the right. The lakes mentioned yesterday, which were encircled here and there by ambaks on the side turned from the river, and not, as usual, by the Habas, could only beperceived from the deck. We go at eight o’clock to S.E. with oars, after some delay, in consequence of our vessel having come into collision with Selim Capitan’s. The wind has slackened considerably: a large lake on the left.
A good idea unfortunately often strikes us too late. Last night, I was trying to defend myself with a fan against the onslaughts of the gnats, but often let it fall from pure weariness. Continual stings, however, soon waked me to pick the fan up again, till about morning it came into my head to erect a small tabernacle over my face, by means of a linen cloth. Yesterday evening I repeated that contrivance, and was scrupulously careful in forming it, when I found that the little pincers and pests would not let me eat in peace, and poured out of their lurking-holes with bloodthirsty intentions. I drew, therefore, my little conical canopy over my head: I was very hot under it, but yet not a mosquito was able to pierce through it. They buzzed and hummed outside, and the crew cried, “Bauda! bauda!” but I was comparatively jolly, and of good cheer.
A quarter after eight. E.S.E., then E. Some trees before us; two villages seen from the deck, behind the reeds on the left. Nine o’clock. Right round to E.S.E.; here, on the left, a little lake, and three villages near the above-mentioned three or four trees, ten minutes from the shore. The tokuls, which are not so large as those previously seen, and have slightly arched roofs, seem to denote that we have come already to the country of the Shilluks. It does our heart good to see human habitations once again close to us. The Nile has been really very tediousfor a long time: I sit here, a “passer solitarius in tecto.” I always thought that we ought to bring every landscape before the reader’s eye, like a row of pictures on the wall; but there is a continual and tiresome repetition of natural objects here: yet I feel it my duty not to spare the reader. Ten o’clock: continually E.S.E., with very inconsiderable declinations. Several people and villages on the left shore, at five minutes’ distance: they are really Shilluks. From the deck we see immediately ten large and small villages. We wind, still rowing, in a flat arch to the right, S.E.; then to the left, E. by N., at half-past eleven; and again slowly to the right. Four villages, the last a large one, at our left: they lie intermixed on the bare high shore, or rather grass and reed-sea, through which the river winds. Some Shilluks, no doubt a very populous nation, greet us from the shore with “Habàba!” (borrowed from the Arabs: in Taka, also, they say habàba—otherwise, mirhabà). Three mountains project on the right. Eleven o’clock, S.E.; three villages on the left. Half-past eleven. Slowly from E.S.E. to the right, S.E. by E.; then to the left, E., and the river immediately makes again a bend to the right, in E.S.E. The wind freshens and detains us; yet we have gained just this moment, for the river goes further to the right, and the wind has changed to N. The high shores, behind which the whole country is bare, with the exception of a few uschàrs, and seems to lie higher, approach again the river on the left; and two villages shew themselves at some hundred paces, on the gently-ascending downs; below them the old river-bed appears on dry ground.
The Shilluks, armed with lances, and standing on the shore, shout again their “Habàba!” but we sail now, and they do not offer us anything, much as we should like to make use of their cows and wood; and besides there are two many of them. Groups of tokuls stand in a row. A quarter after twelve, continually E.S.E. Half-past twelve, S.E. by E.; to the left, E. The wind has changed, and is contrary; so we go E.S.E. The Shilluks also have sleeping-places, open at the top, wherein warm ashes form their beds, with which also they powder their hair, thereby making it look grey.
A quarter before one. From E. by N. A gohr on the right, and we go, at one o’clock, E.S.E. Half-past one. The river takes a direction before us to E., with some little inlets, so that we cannot see the lower shore. The wind blows strongly against us from E. We have but scanty fare, being without meat. I cannot denykewto myself now, for I really want it.
Half-past two. E. by S. A Haba on the right, before it a lake connected with the river in front; the forest is upon a gentle declivity, and covered with shrubs, thorns, and dwarf-trees, even to the edge of the water. The shore also falls away gently to the river, near which it only rises a little above the narrow green margin of grass. We halt close to the right shore, owing to want of wood.
The shore ascends to about fifteen feet high, where the trees begin, and is composed of nothing but mimosas, although the Nile very certainly does not flow over it; for the river has full play far away to the left.
If we call these lakes, marshes, and reed-morasses,a longitudinal valley, enclosed as they are with the Nile between two high shores, which, however, do not ascend to the due height, the original shores perhaps lying still further by the irregular low line of mountains, or rather hills, it is plain that the same is gradually filled by alluvial deposits from the mountains of Bari, or from above, and an accumulation of vegetables, or the momentary sprouting forth of an corresponding kingdom of plants, must have soon followed the more important vegetable matter. As the sluices of the so-called valley pour into the great Nile, it must have falls on a level with the Nile itself, and has, therefore, dug a bed, and made an even slope to this side, after the stream had removed the first barriers or dikes of the high shores, which are now secure from any inundation. A river-bed, indeed, naturally becomes deeper when there is a proper fall and a regular conduit. The lower Nile has elevated its bed, because it has but few vents. Why could not the White River have a similar retrograde connection of water, which is prevented from flowing off, such as is the case, in the first place, near Khartùm? The Nile here might have been previously in majestic fullness, and flowed rapidly between the present old shores to Khartùm, until it created shallows and islands, where reeds and water-plants of every species sprang forth luxuriantly from the nearly stagnant water, and vehemently opposed the natural course of the river, seized the alluvial deposits from above in their polypi-arms, and rose to what we now see to be meadows and marshes.
The Shilluks are tolerably acquainted withthe good disposition of the Turks: as soon as a vessel approaches a group of them, they get up and go away; this even befell Selim Capitan, in spite of his interpreter. When they see us coming, they drive the cows from the water, even without letting them drink. We on our side are afraid, and with justice, to land on the inhabited spots. I brought back two guinea-fowls, the produce of my shooting excursion with my servants; I had seen Suliman Kashef with one of a similar kind above. They are not at all like those in Taka, and different only from those of Europe by the darker colour of their plumage. We shall remain here to-night; thunder and rain have been satisfied with merely threatening us,—and are happily over. I disembark once more, and see fifty to sixty giraffes in the level shore towards the horizon, but it was too late to get at them. The thermometer was at nine o’clock in the morning 21°, but did not get up afterwards to more than 28°, fortunately for us,—not so much on account of shooting as because the heat might have been insupportable, for we were between these high shores à talus, with an average angle of 25° to 30°, and the wind was entirely still.
10th March.We remain to-day here for the sake of shooting, conformably to Suliman Kashef’s determination. His halberdiers set off to-night to follow the course of the giraffes, and to find out their abode in the gallas,—unfortunately without success, for they did not like perhaps to trust themselves so far in the territory of their deadly enemies.
I remarked a number of burnt bones of hippopotami in the low forest lying close to the river. I shouldbe inclined to believe that the natives burn the carrion intentionally, in order not to be exposed to the disgusting effluvium. A species of black wasps build hanging-nests here, which however seem from their transparency to contain very little honey. I could not ascertain this more exactly, because I was obliged to be cautious in breaking off a branch with such nests on it. We remark low mountains beyond the softly ascending desert, and perhaps the dry water-courses which issue here from the steppe flow to them, andtheremay be the real abode of the deer. In my shooting excursion I looked carefully among the thorn-bushes, and found that the plants are mostly the same; I had fancied quite otherwise. A blue convolvulus—not, however, belonging to the water—displayed a lighter colour than usual, and had also round and glutinous leaves: I took seeds of some pretty creepers and gathered the fruits of the shrubs, for I was already acquainted with the leaves. Every thing now was withered, and I am curious to know what will become of the various seeds I have collected when they are sown in Europe.
Most of the birds had retreated before the shooting of the other sportsmen commenced, but I stumbled upon several turtle-doves, and instinctively grasped my gun, letting my botanical bundle fall on the ground. I shot some, and got under a tree, where I saw them fluttering around. The thorns stuck to me and pricked me all over, and there I sat bent, like an ostrich caught in a thorn bush, compared with which the bull-rush of Moses was a child. I could not force through it with my coat on and gun in my hand; so I got loose from the sharp barbs of the thorns withtorn clothes, leaving behind the tarbusch, takie, and half my cowl, without even scratching my ears, though they were bleeding enough already. I fetched back my tarbusch by means of my gun, and then examined my malicious enemy a little closer, notwithstanding he was an old acquaintance. I found withered apples on it, and gathered some, for the sake of the seed; when green they are exceedingly similar to oranges or Egyptian lemons. I have not found it confirmed that they are deadly poison to camels.
11th March.—“Bauda mafish, am’d el Allàh!” (the latter properly Hamdl el Allàh,) was the cry on all sides to Allàh, because the gnats had taken their departure, and I hope that those which are still in my cabin will soon follow their companions. Departure at a quarter before ten to S.E. by E., then a little E. by S. Summer or pastoral villages on the left: we perceive also herds, but not a morsel of them is destined for us. On the right an old river-bed or narrow lake, mostly marshy, and connected below with the river. A quarter after ten, E.S.E., on a pretty good course, with the exception of some shallow inlets. We sail, with a south-west wind, four miles. On the left again open reed-huts or sleeping-places, and herds to which the people are collecting,—on account of the Turks. All the Haba here is deposited soil, which lies almost always higher than the other ground. This evidently fading forest once enjoyed better times, when the blessing of rain was afforded it, but the benefit of which it lost directly by its higher situation.
What fables are told of the incredible luxuriance of the tropical kingdom of plants! At all events itcould only be said of aquatic plants which are forced by water, evaporation, and sunshine, as if by steam or chemical preparations; but then only in the rainy season and a few weeks beyond. I saw, indeed, trees shooting forth at this time in Taka, which boiling and cauldron-shaped valley may perhaps contain a tropical growth, or something like it; and plants springing up from the morass with incredible celerity and luxuriance, as if by magic. But trees that have true manly vigour, and strive to shoot out with sound strong muscles, whose pith is still clearly to be seen in the bark, with not a bough injured,—not a branch hanging down withered,—these are sought for in vain in the Tropics, so far as I have seen. We can form a tolerable idea of the momentary life and vigour there by comparing in Europe, acacias, planes, and poplars, on suitable soil; it is the most cheerful awakening after a long repose: but part of the limbs always continues in a sleep-like death, whether it be under the bark of the stem, or a bough that the sun scorches, or a runner become dry, which disfigures the whole tree. A forest requires care, either by the fortuitous kindness of Nature herself; or, when that is not sufficient, by the directing hand of man. The omnipotence of the terrestrial womb of fruits is past,—that which gave previously the magic of lovely green to the coming species, without any visible seeds of themselves. Half-past eleven o’clock, S.E.—It has just rained a little;—what anxiety and fear of rain these half-naked coloured people shew; what care they display in preparing immediately a tent to sit under! I have very often remarked this; rain must therefore make a sensible impression on theirhot skin. Twelve o’clock, E.S.E. We see at the distance on the left towards the horizon, solitary dhellèbs as usual on elevated ground; and also isolated little groups of Shilluks. Narrow tracks of water right and left, which not long ago were flowing cheerfully. The river has also gradually laid aside its terraces in preceding times, until it has limited itself to its present bed; and those parts of the shore, lying higher are only just moistened, even when it is at its highest water-mark. It would be interesting to follow these old river-beds in the ascending line at the side, and to arrive at the dams of the primitive stream, or at the higher circumvallation which surrounded the lake here at one time. A quarter after one o’clock.—On the right a gohr cul-de-sac, low bushes to S.E., called by the very same name as the Haba; on the left solitary trees and straw huts of the herdsmen. At two—on the right, another gohr cul-de-sac,—to E. We sail E.N.E, and wind, for the first time since the morning, to the left: a track of water in the shape of a terrace, just there, from half a foot to a foot higher than our level. A beautiful line of dome-palms before us, but still thicker a little to the left. Half-past three, N.E.—Heaps of simsim-sheaves on the water at the left, and a row of ten villages near the dome-palms. A broad gohr or river comes from W. This may be the river of the Jengähs; but it seems to approach in the background too much to the Nile; perhaps therefore it is that gohr which is said to have its old river-bed on the high shores, below the villages of the Shilluks. A quarter before three, E. We see on the left seven more large and small villages, by or near that row of dome-palms, which on this side is verythin; then a dome-forest to the left at a quarter of an hour’s distance.
An unlimited water-course before us in E. by N., but no huts to be seen on the left. Therefore, the nation of the Nuèhrs might have been dislodged by the Shilluks from that quarter; for the former extend, or are said to extend, up to the Sobàt and its shores. This side, at all events, had been inhabited, as I plainly saw this morning at our landing-place. The Haba, however, continues at a slight distance from the river; on the left also the dome-forest is now reduced to a strip of a wood. The shores are surprisingly low on both sides; and therefore not any tokul-village is to be seen near them. A gohr is on the right, which is scarcely separated from the river, and in connection with it, like the other narrow ones. Three o’clock. On the left three more villages in the dome-forest tract; and on the right and left parrallel gohrs, subordinate Niles, which are now stagnant, and the fish in which are a prey to men and beasts. Four more villages to the left, near the dome-wood retreating from the river; on the right the forest thickens.
Half-past three. Towards S. We have a tolerably high and apparently planted island at our left, and halt at the right near a hill—probably a deserted domicile. But look there! that is really the far-famed Sobàt, the water of which is flowing against us, and which is so much feared by the crew, who are tired of the voyage. I soon disembarked on the shore, sauntered up the hill, and was surprised to find that I could see so far in the distance, and fed my eye and mind with a diorama which extended from W. to N.E.The Nile is conspicuous in the W., and meanders to N.E., where it is lost to the sight. An isolated dhellèb-palm on the right shore indicates this last boundary. The horizon behind this glittering length of the Nile is adorned with a transparent forest of dome-palms, interspersed with slender dhellèb palms, with their small heads. The basin of a lake spreads from W. to N.W., at my feet, and the river Sobàt winding downwards from S.E., and flowing in the depth at my right, unites with the Nile near the lake: both its shores are bare, and only a few melancholy straw tokuls stand on the extreme point of the right shore. All the remaining part of the district extends far and wide in a dead waste, with a little withered grass; and the horizon alone from S.S.W. to S.W., displays afar some palms and other trees, through which the blue sky glistens.
The lake lying in the angle between the left shore of the Sobàt and the right of the White Stream is connected with the former by a narrow opening, evidently prevented from closing by the hand of man. The mouth, as is the case elsewhere, is merely stopped up by reeds, to keep the fish of the lake in confinement. Our blacks shewed on this occasion what they do to catch fish when the water of these lakes is shallow, and does not reach up to a man’s middle. They disturb it with their feet, put fishing or conical baskets into it, and harpoon the large fish, who come to the top to breathe.
The Sobàt, swelling at high water far higher and stronger, has raised unquestionably a dam against this lake, the former river-bed of the White Stream, and pressed the Nile more towards N.W. into itspresent bed. Notwithstanding such an advantage being at hand, the natives have cut through the dam for the purpose of catching fish. The Sobàt has shortly before its mouth a hundred and thirty mètres in breadth and three fathoms in depth, whilst when we were here before it was four fathoms; and according to Selim Capitan, a few days earlier last year, five fathoms. We can tell but very little generally of the depth of the Nile, because its bed is very uneven, and the stream causes eternal fluctuations.
The name of Sobàt could only have been given to this river by the Funghs, for the Arabs have never possessed it, and usually call it Bach’r el Makàda (river of Habesch.) The Dinkas name the White Stream Kedi, andthisKiti, which mostly denotes water in the dialects on the White Stream up to Bari, where it is called Kirboli: Kir also means water among the tribes down the river. Its name is Tilfi and Tak with the Nuèhrs and Shilluks.
When I view the steep and high slope of the shores of the Sobàt, and the proportionate thin layer of earth on the immovable strata of clay or original soil, which here is twenty to twenty-five feet higher than on the shore or in the bed of the Nile, I return to my former conviction, that the immeasurable particles of stone and plants stream by means of the breach, and flowing away of the lakes of the Ethiopian highlands, to the lake of the basin-shaped valley of the White Stream which flows off with the Nile, as the deepest point; and that all the lower country under the mountain chains of Fàzogl and Habesch, from the Atbara to the land of Bari must be underwater, if it be not a lake connected with the depressed regions of the White Stream. If the lakes, therefore, of that lofty plain were torn by a powerful catastrophe, and deserted their chasms or valleys, as the water-basins of Switzerland did formerly—(even now there are lakes or flat valleys, signs of a deluge, in which the waters might have dashed from the summit of Atlas to the top of the Alps)—there is no question that the lower lakes or valleys must have filled and overflowed. The first rushing-down of the mass of waves, incredibly violent as it must have been, the falling of mountains accompanying it, and their washing-away, overpowered everything below them, as if gods had descended from Olympus, and no longer recognized those limits that would have remained eternal obstacles by an inferior shock. The first deposit was a layer of clay on the side of the Sobat, whilst the White Stream suffered no such sediment when in its primitive strength, and washed away everything that it could seize, as is shewn by the far lower shores. The high shores of the Sobàt and its environs fall away, especially towards the level parts of the left side of the Nile, to which the accumulated slime could still less arrive owing to the stream carrying it off, although several gohrs and rivers from thence pour into it. These afford water certainly, but no slime to increase the height of the shore, as we plainly see by the Gazelle River, and also in the little Kiti of the Jengähs called Njin-Njin. We must assume from the Dinka country and its greater elevation, that the ground towards the Nile was heightened formerly by its gohrs flowing from above, or perhaps constant rivers; whilstKordofàn, which lies over the left shore of the Nile, discharges no rivers, and its oases have run down from the mountains themselves, and formed islands in the sands which still remain, for the sunken ground forms cisterns that nourish the succulent power of the mountains by imbibing the moist element; or it may be, that springs were bored by God’s own hand.
ROYAL CRANES. — SCRUPLES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — COMPOSITION OF THE SHORES. — DESCRIPTION OF THE DHELLÈB—PALM AND ITS FRUIT. — FORM OF EGYPTIAN PILLARS DERIVED FROM THIS TREE. — DIFFERENCE BETWEEN EGYPTIAN AND GREEK ARCHITECTURE. — DESCRIPTION OF THE SUNT-TREE. — DEATH OF AN ARABIAN SOLDIER. — VISIT OF A MEK OR CHIEF. — DANGEROUS RENCONTRE WITH A LION ON SHORE. — PURSUIT OF THIS BEAST BY THE AUTHOR AND SULIMAN KASHEF WITH HIS MEN. — FEAR OF THE NATIVES AT THE TURKS. — PLUNDER OF THEIR TOKULS BY THE CREW. — BREAD-CORN OF THE DINKAS. — ANTELOPE HUNT. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF THESE ANIMALS. — IMMENSE HERDS ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE NILE. — LIONS AGAIN. — BAD CONDITION OF THE VESSELS.
12th March.—We set out at half-past nine o’clock, and sail to S.E. by E. Shrubs on the higher shore to the right. A quarter before ten, from S.E. by E.; further to the left round a corner, to which a bend corresponds on the opposite shore: this is often the case on the Nile. To E.N.E., and immediately again with a short tract to N.E. The river flows with all its force against the left shore, and therefore the latter is higher, more perpendicular, and disrupt, than the right, which soon, however, becomes similar. We go a short tract libàhn, and see a few miserable small straw tokuls withthindoors, on the left, in the little green underwood, which seems to be nourished by the inundation, and is mostly young döbker.
The shores display again iron oxyde. A quarter beforeeleven: from E. by N., to the right, E.S.E., where we sail. The shores on the right and left are higher, according to the current, and the falling of the river is accurately marked out on the shore by little gradations, which are exceedingly regular, and one to two inches high. We crawl on only slowly with the faint south wind, and make now one mile; for the current being stagnant below towards the Nile, told me directly that the floating companion of the mountain dissipates quickly its water, differently from the slow, crawling Nile, which is obliged to work through the plain of a lake-basin.
Eleven o’clock. The wind freshens, and we go S.E. and E.S.E. On the left a solitary dhellèb-palm rises on the shore, with its beautiful and really symmetrical head; its slender base without rings, and its elegant foliage. From hence in the bend, further to the right, in S., where five dhellèb-palms break the uniformity of the high shore on the left. A low ridge of a hill lies near them, on which a village must have once stood. If I could but transplant the tallest dhellèb to Louisa’s island, near Berlin, to make it the common property of all the northern nations! It is hot, for the high shores keep the refreshing breeze from the deep water, and only the sail enjoys a cheerful gust of wind, with the assistance of which we go, at a quarter before twelve, from S.W., where a regular forest before us presents itself to the eye, to the left, in S.W. by S. We make two miles; a quarter of a mile, perhaps, being derived from the current. A quarter after twelve, from S.W., to the left, E. by N. We hardly move from the place till it blows from N.E., and then we go better, havingfour miles’ course. An old sailor runs on shore close by the vessel, to find crocodiles’ eggs; tumbles into holes, falls in the grass, and is using every exertion to find a convenient sand-path instead of the clay. The crew call him to come off, but he wants to shew that he is a nimble fellow—thus every one has his hobby-horse.
The river winds continually in a bend to the left: a wretched stunted forest on the right, and miserable tokuls, without people, here and there on this shore. One o’clock; from E. by N., where the river winds again to the right, S.E. by S. We halt at a quarter before two, at the right shore, yet not to let the men rest; that would be against the Turkish custom, for they think there are no human beings except themselves. At three o’clock we go with libàhn to S.E., and immediately to the left E. Half-past three, in a bend to the right, S.S.E.; and four o’clock, on the left, in the bend, to E.S.E. Five o’clock, from E.N.E., on the right to E., where we stop at the right shore.
Last night I awoke up several times, and the wild geese on the neighbouring lake, seemed to call to me in a friendly manner, and scream “Hereweare, for you have not had for a long time either sheep, goats, or fowls.” I was on the wing therefore at day-break, but saw only four royal cranes (grus royal, Arabic gornu, or chornu), one of whom I shot, for they are very delicious when dressed in a ragout. Feïzulla, although he has been seven years in England, drinks drams and wine like a Turk, and scruples to dine with me, because I had not cut the bird’s throat immediately after it was shot, whilst it was yetalive, and made it debièg (koscher, as the Jews say). These beautiful birds, with a tuft of golden hair and shining feathers, appear in flocks on the White River: my Sale killed a brace in a moment, and would have brought us more if he could have followed them. The geese would only surrender at discretion to the “longue carabine,” and I had only my short double-barrel.
I visited once more, on this occasion, the hill above-mentioned, which I found quite adapted for the situation of a village. I had seen already the remains of potters’ ware, and solitary flower-gardens, or plots of ground trodden down, where once tokuls stood, but where now neither grass nor shrubs could grow; and I came to the conclusion that a considerable village must have stood there, which could have belonged only to the Nuèhrs, and was probably destroyed by the Shilluks. Thermometer, sunrise, 21°; half-past nine o’clock, 28°; noon, 29°; no rise beyond that was perceptible afterwards.
13th March.—Departure at seven o’clock, with libàhn to E.S.E. by E.; then to the left, E.N.E., and we sail with a good north-east wind. A quarter before eight: from E., in the bend to S.E,; on the left some straw tokuls. The wind becomes strong, and we make six miles for the present; the mountain stream seems to be here at its lowest pitch, and has only a quarter of a mile rapidity. Eight o’clock; from S.E. by S.; to the left, E. by S., where we are obliged to go libàhn. A quarter after eight, to the left, but we halt before the corner of the bend till noon, owing to the violent east wind. I made a little excursion into the immeasurable plain, which was tree-lessand comfortless; and found two villages, better built than usual, to which I was not able to approach, and likewise a long and dried-up marsh. I could not, unfortunately, discover any guinea-fowls in the durra-stubble.
At twelve o’clock, we proceed with libàhn to N.E., where our Bach’r el Makàda winds again to the right. Half-past twelve. The shores, with few exceptions, attain a height of fifteen to eighteen feet: the upper surface of the soil consists of humus to two or three feet deep (which may be deeper in the low ground, old gohrs, and several tracts), and under it nothing is seen but clay or mud, having a yellowish colour on the shore, from the iron oxyde, with which it is strongly impregnated, and generally more so than on the White Nile, where this is only the case in layers. A fertile country, but requiring human hands, canals, and sakiën. We see from its shores, and in the dried-up pools, which receive very little nourishment here from vegetable matter, particularly on the upper land, that the Sobàt brings down fruitful earth or slime.
From half-past twelve to two, in a bend to the left, S.E., where we go again left in N.E. by N. On the same side there is a tolerably well built little village on the shore. A quarter before three, still further to the left, N. by E. Four o’clock, we wheel to the right in E.N.E., where we get the view of a genuine low forest, and notice on the left a village in the winding to S. by E. Half-past four, also further; a hamlet on the right with straw tokuls, the first on this side. We see here also reed-boats, as among the Nuèhrs and Shilluks on the Nile. At five o’clock toS., where we at first halt at the right shore, before the bend to the left. Two large villages lie from half to three-quarters of an hour distant, and I see an immeasurable bare plain cracked from drought,—a summer shallow lake without any verdure. We go then to the left shore, the soil of which is less mixed with sand than that of the right, and gives us some hope of shooting and fishing. The huntsman Sale returned, however, disconsolate, for he had seen nothing at all.
The left shore is still more precipitous and higher here than the right one, because the stream forces itself into this bend. When we disembark, we find that the land again rises to a gentle acclivity, and we have the prospect of a large lake about three quarters of an hour distant, which overflows perhaps deeper into the Sobàt. Many lakes of this kind must be found in the country of the Dinkas, because springs, as in the Taka country, are not sufficient for the watering of the cattle of this merissa-loving, dancing and singing tribe; and besides, the drawing of the water would cause too much trouble.
The Sobàt is stagnant here in the proper sense of the word, and no log can determine anything else.
14th March.We navigate again on the right side, and go at half-past seven o’clock with libàhn from S. by E., immediately S.E., where the north-east wind remains contrary to us, notwithstanding the narrow water-tract. Some small and still green reed-huts hang on the shore, sheltered from the north wind: these are stations for hunters of hippopotami and crocodiles, or for fishermen, who, however, have gone away, and taken with them their working implements, for theyare frightened of us. The durra seems to thrive famously on the half-sandy shore, and rises cheerfully above the reeds; probably it is sown,—that is, a handful thrown here and there on the vacant spots.
Eight o’clock—E. by N., and N.E. by E. The upper margin of the right shore is planted throughout with durra, and some small fishing-huts shew that men dwell there. Ten o’clock.—Hitherto always N.E. within considerable deviations, and then N. by E.; where we halt at the corner of the right shore on account of the wind, for the river goes still further to the left: level land above, some underwood, and a village at a little distance. A quarter before one.—N. by W., and about one, in a bend to the right. When the crew relieve one another at the rope, they imitate to perfection the Uh-uh-i-ih of the tribes on the upper part of the White Stream, and during the towing itself they sing the song à-à-à-jòk-jòk, which would be difficult for a white man to do. The force of the water is directed here against the right shore, which is without any crust of vegetation, and seems to ascend to the uppermost margin, as is proved by the gradations being washed away, and the thin layer of humus, one foot to one and a half high, decreases perpendicularly, whilst the lower part of the soil displays unmixed clay. It certainly required a powerful pressure of water to wash this primary deposit to such a depth; the left shore, on the contrary, has a coating of slime and vegetation down to the water.
Two o’clock.—E. by N.; twenty-one dhellèb-palms on the left, with a pastoral hamlet of thirty new straw-tokuls. The crew are beginning to shoot down the dhellèb-fruits, and I also disembark on theshore, beyond which the ground, with the beautiful group of trees, is still imperceptibly elevated. We are quite comfortable there, but I gaze far and wide for a point to break the unbounded flat waste that shews not a thorn or a bush; the river winds melancholy between the naked shores. These palms stand in luxuriant growth,—a proof that the soil is capable of other things, and may look for a better future. The very pretty straw-huts present nothing worth having to our rapacious eyes, and near them we remark the sleeping-places, and a large, glimmering heap of dung, serving at night for fire and a bed. The cow-dung is collected in little heaps in the enclosure, surrounded with palings, where the beast is tied, and is still quite fresh: notwithstanding this, it is very certain that we expect in vain the return this evening of these beautifully spotted cattle. Standing on an old trunk of a tree, I remarked a large village on the right shore at a quarter of an hour up the river.
The dhellèb-tree has the same fibrous texture of bark, and of the interior of the trunks, as the dates and dome-palms; but it is far finer, thicker, and stronger. The outside of the bark shews rings from below upwards, and the tree itself shoots forth slenderly from the earth, and swells gradually towards the centre to a spheroid form, when it decreases again to the top, and rises stately, separating the head from the stem. The fruit is as large as a child’s head, and in clusters, as in the palms before named, but on far stronger stalks, from which it hangs down immediately close to the stem. It is smooth outside, and of a golden colour, like its pulp; the latter isfibrous, of a bitter-sweet taste, like chewing soft wood and leaves behind in the mouth an astringent taste, which may arise here from the fruit not being fully ripe. There are from four to six kernels in this gold apple of the size of a child’s hand, or of those of the dome-palms: the stalk has a scaly covering, surrounding about a third part of the fruit. The kernels, or the nuts, have themselves a solid pulp, shining like dark glass, being exactly similar to that of the dome-fruit: at first it is like milk, but on coming to maturity becomes of the consistency of horn. The trunk of palms is surrounded with the same kind of rings as the date-tree, the rind feeling smooth, like planed wood; consequently it was impossible to climb these trees to gather any fruit, owing principally to the swelling in the centre, and therefore it was shot down. After several attempts, we drove large nails in the stem, to hold the rope by, and then we ascended gradually.
The bark falls off on the ground, as is the case with the other palms, for the tree throws out foliage like grass from the interior: the thick rootlets spread themselves in all directions through the ground, like polypi, with a thousand veins of life.
There seems to me to be no doubt that the Egyptian pillars, protruding in the middle, derived their origin from the dhellèb-palms, which might have been transplanted in the Thebaïs; for it was impossible that the Egyptians should not take notice of the unusual shape of this tree—they who borrowed all their forms and embellishments, even to those of their spoons and salve-boxes, from the kingdom of nature.
Lifeless figures having no meaning are never represented by them; flowers, foliage, leaves, sacred animals, or parts of them properly introduced, are intermixed with hieroglyphics, like a garland, without beginning or end. The Greeks quickly seized what was beautiful in this, discarded what was heavy and confused, and pleased themselves and succeeding ages by lighter and more elegant forms. They placed the acanthus and horns, or volutes on the capitals of their pillars, and the Germans planted a stone-forest as the holiest of holy.
A large village of the Nuèhrs (judging from several potsherds) stood on our hill: this nation dwells up the river from hence and in the direction of the White Stream, where we had seen them last. I had found also on the last landing-place fragments and the foundations of a village, and heard from our blacks that the Shilluks, several years ago, had a great war with the Nuèhrs, drove them from these parts, and took possession of the lake abounding in fish, which I have previously mentioned. We have not remarked any sunt among the mimosas from the country of Bari up to the Sobàt, and even on this river, but we see talle. The latter tree has a reddish bark; the long white prickles grow by couples; the flowers are whitish and without any particular scent; the bark, however, is used for pastilles, and, when rubbed, sprinkled on the merissa. It affords the best gum (gamme, semmag), which is white like that from sunt, while that from the sejal (or sayal) is blackish. Thermometer yesterday morning 22°, and did not rise beyond 27°, and this morning 18°; noon 26° to 29°.
15th March.We leave our beautiful palms at half-past nine o’clock, and go from E. by N., and notwithstanding the strong north-east wind, slowly in the bend to the right. A quarter after ten, S.E. by E., then a very short tract S.S.E.: some grass huts of fishermen, and crocodile and hippopotami hunters at the lower declivity of the shore on the left. Half-past ten, to the left S.E., and further to the left, S.E. by E., where we halt at eleven o’clock, because an Arabian soldier has just cried himself to death before our cabin! He wept at having to die in a foreign land and not seeing his mother any more. Nearly all these people lose their courage directly they are attacked by any illness, the nature of which they cannot visibly perceive as they can a wound, &c. He died with a piece of bread in his mouth, because the Arabs believe, and with justice, that so long as you can chew bread you will not die. It is shameful that we dare not take even medicine from the fine black physician we have on board, and much less can we expect assistance or salvation from him. Ten minutes have flown; the deceased is carried to the upper part of the shore, and yet the worthy disciple of Clot-Bey has never even looked at him! We leave at half-past two the place where the soldier was buried in dead silence, after having received five more cows, upon whom the crew fell like wolves, and navigate to the left, E.S.E.; then again slowly to the right. Three o’clock, to S.E. We sail about five minutes, and stop again at the right shore, by the corner where it turns to the left, and then again, “Jo hàmmet, Ja mohammed!” is chaunted at the rope. In the winding below the left shore we saw a water-hunting establishmentof seven straw tokuls. A quarter before three, from E.S.E. to E. by S. A quarter after four, E.S.E. Half-past four, E. Some few trees on the right entirely or partly withered, and soon afterwards a few green ones, of which those standing lower shew that the water has poured into the shores, even to the margin. Five o’clock, E. by N., then slowly right to E., where we halt at a quarter of an hour later. The river makes a strong bend to the right, and we hope to sail to-morrow.
This afternoon, when the cows were brought us, I procured a ring, with much difficulty, for sug-sug, and though badly manufactured, it is at least peculiar to the country. I saw several such rings among them, but not one of them had a circular form, and by this we may measure the standard of their skill. Those which are better worked, are found among the Nuèhrs. The five cows came from the Mek, who presented himself in person to Suliman Kashef, with whom Selim Capitan also happened to be: he was clothed in a ferda, which he had received from the Shilluks. He wore a very thick copper ring on his hand, and was of opinion that dress is the privilege of sheikhs. An old woman and a man preceded him; the former attired like an ancient Queen of the Witches. We dressed the mek in a red caftan, put a gay-coloured red handkerchief round his head, and hung glass beads on him. Another cow was brought to us, but they wanted an enormous quantity of sug-sug for it, (these trinkets are generally held in little value here, because the Gelabis frequent these regions,) and still more for goats and sheep. Thermometer, sunrise, 18°; noon and subsequently, 28° to 30°.
16th March.—Man is not appalled in the midst of danger itself,—if it were so, he would be lost; but the frail human heart throbs afterwards. Yesterday evening I left the vessel, in company with Thibaut, to get at a swarm of finches, which birds are said to give a delicious flavour to a pillau, of which we wanted to be joint partakers. We were soon obliged to separate, in order to salute the birds on both sides of their settlement. In my excursion, however, on the shore, I came all of a sudden within a few steps of a lion, without having the least distant idea that this fearful enemy could be in the neighbourhood of all our vessels, and I had only my double-barrel, which was loaded merely with small shot; whilst my huntsman Sale, was pursuing a gazelle, at a long distance off. Possibly our firing had awakened this supreme chief from his sleep, for otherwise I must have seen him before, although my eye was directed to a brace of birds at the left; because the underwood could not have concealed an object of such size, as it only reached up to the knee, and was merely interspersed here and there with a higher bush. I was just taking aim slowly and almost irresolutely at the two beautiful birds, who were looking at me with surprise and confidence, contrary to the custom of the cunning finches, when the lion stood before me on the right, as if he had sprung from the earth. He was so close to me that he appeared to stand as high as up to my breast, but yet I stood, my poor weak weapon in my hand, holding it close to my side, with perfect presence of mind, so as to keep my face free, and to wait for the attack; I was firm, and he seemed also to be resolute.
At first we stared at each other mutually; he measured me from top to toe, but disregarded the Turkish accoutrements and sun-burnt countenance, for my red cap which he seemed not to despise. I, on my side, recognized in him the dreaded king of beasts, although he wore no mane, according to his usual custom, but I did not appeal to his magnanimity. At last he turned his face from me, and went away slowly with a dreadfully pliable movement of his hinder parts, and his tail hanging down, but could not restrain himself from turning round to look at me once more, while I was trusting to the effect of one or two shots in the eyes or jaws, if it came to a contest of life or death; and really I remained standing immovable, with too much of thelionin me to tremble, and to bring certain destruction on my head by untimely flight. However, away he went, looking round several times, but not stopping, as if he feared pursuit, and I turned my back to him equally slowly, without even calling out a farewell; but I cast a searching look over my shoulders every now and then, right and left, expecting that he might make a spring like a cat, and I kept him in sight before me, when I was about to jump down from the shore on to the sand where the vessels and crew were. I confess openly that I now felt an evident throbbing of the heart, and that my nose seemed to have turned white. Taken unawares as I had been by the lion, the distance of five paces, according to the measurement I made, was nearly too close for me: on his side it was only necessary for him to have smelt me, which probably I should not have allowed. I stood a moment on the margin of the shore, in order that I might tranquillysummon Suliman Kashef to the pursuit of the beast, without betraying any pallor of countenance, and then I jumped down on the sand. When I swore by the prophets to Suliman Kashef that my account was true, he was ready immediately with his sharpshooters. At my advice we formed a line of riflemen above, though I could not obtain a couple of bullets for my gun; but the Turks soon crawled together again, except a tall black slave of Suliman’s, who was at the right wing. When the latter soon afterwards pointed and made signs that the lion was near at hand, his master motioned with his hand and gun that he would shoot him if he did not join us, for he held himself as lost, being left quite alone. We set off at a slight trot, because the lion continued his walk, until at last Suliman, as it began to get dark, ordered three of his boldest warriors to go in advance. Three shots were fired, but the men came back, and described the lion as a real monster. I was actually glad that the magnanimous beast, according to all probability, was not even wounded. They called me again an “Agù el bennaht,” because I accompanied the expedition to see my lion a second time, and they expressed themselves rejoiced that God had preserved me, and wished me happiness, with pious phrases from the Koràn.
To-day we sailed at half-past six o’clock from the place to S.E. and S.E. by S.; at seven o’clock; E. by S., a village on the high shore at the right.
We saw yesterday, from our landing-place, four villages, lying together on the right and left shore, which the Dinkas have taken into their possession. At half-past seven o’clock, after we had sailed only slowly (two miles), owing to the wind being partlyadverse, we proceeded to E.S.E. and S.E. by E. The strong breeze caught the sails, and we make seven miles clear of deduction: unfortunately, the tract will not be long. A quarter before eight we stop before the corner, where a winding to the left commences, in order to go libàhn, because the vessels ahead do it. Some huntsmen’s huts, with their inhabitants, stand on the right shore, and I procure, on this occasion, a horn of the Tete species of antelope. We proceed, sailing, to S.E. by E., and E.S.E., and halt a quarter after eight. Again at S.E. by E., to go libàhn round the left. Unfortunately, the wind has torn the sail, which I had feared for a long time would be the case; for it was ripped up in several places, and the Tailor Capitan did not trouble himself about it. “Allàh kerim!” A large village at some distance above. At a quarter before one, we go libàhn to S.E. by E.; then E.S.E. and E. by S. On the right shore a village with Dinka tokuls and sleeping-places. It is not yet, however, decided whether the Dinkas dwell there, although the style of architecture of the tokuls, their grooved and arched roofs, without eaves, seem rather to denote that they belong to this tribe than to that of the Nuèhrs. The wind is very strong, and the crew are obliged to tow with all their might; but the river winds now to the right, and we can, perhaps, sail. A quarter before two. From E. by N., slowly in the bend to the right: a village on the right shore, in the bend to the left, exactly like that on the left side. Half-past two, E. by S. We cannot see anything of the village here, owing to the high shore; and the blacks, who stood shortly before in large numbers onthe shore, have fled because they saw the Turkish countenances of Suliman Kashef’s halberdiers. The Turk is pleased at such fear, which is associated with hatred and contempt on the part of the negroes. A quarter before three; S. by W. The wind makes the men at the rope run; but we are not able to sail, because the river winds immediately to the left. We have a low sand-island at our right. Our men will let nothing lie by the huntsmen’s huts: tortoise-shells (water-tortoises), vessels,—such as gadda, burma, gara—everything is carried off; for the blacks have imbibed the Turkish notion of “Abit,” and are now askari (soldiers), who pretend to know nothing of their countrymen.
Three o’clock. To the left in S. and S.S.E.; then again to the right. Half-past three. We sail a little S. by W. and S. by E.; a village on the left. The Dinkas appear to mix everything called corn to make bread; such as durra, lubiën of different species, gourd or melon stones, &c., of which I have a specimen; and also lotus seeds, found here in great quantities, and therefore denoting that there are several lakes in the interior, and the small rice I have mentioned previously. A large hippopotamus shewed himself on the flat left shore: he was afraid of the vessels and the shouting of the crew, and trotted in a semicircle, like an immense wild boar, in order to plunge into the water with a greater roar. Four o’clock. To the left E.S.E. Five o’clock. From E. further to the left.
The crawling along these cheerless shores, notwithstanding the shouting, jokes, teasing, and stumbling on board the vessels from side to side, and sometimesinto the water, and the huzzaing when that takes place—notwithstanding all the various kinds of occupation and non-occupation which may amuse us for a short time—is exceedingly wearisome; and it is well for me if I retain my senses to sketch here and there an idea, which may be followed out or rejected by those whose attainments are higher, and who have the advantage of an enlightened circle, where opinions and views can be expressed and discussed. Such a circle, however, cannot be found in Bellet Sudan, or on board my vessel. We halt a little after six o’clock in E.N.E., at the right shore. Thermometer, sunrise, 18°; noon, 27° and 28°; sunset, 27°.
11th March.—We had a great antelope-hunt yesterday evening. Amongst others, there was an Ariel with twenty-five rings on its horns, and a Tete, and three female Tilli. The latter, also a species of antelopes, are of lighter colour than the Ariels, and almost white, whilst the Tete has a dark-brown coat with white breast and belly. The female Tilli are distinguished by having long tails, but the males are said to be bare behind. I was not able to leave the vessel sufficiently early to see a herd of more than a thousand antelopes that were going to the watering-place. My huntsman, also, who had struck into another road, saw some hundred together; all the others agreed that there were these thousand which I have mentioned. But they soon dexterously divided to the right and the left on the immeasurable level of this land, where there was merely low grass, wild bamie and a quantity of basil, which latter was also met with on all sides in the countries further up; andSuliman Kashef only shot four, and my Sale not a single one. I myself could only see some antelopes on the horizon, because it was already getting dusk, and I stopped with Sabatier close to the vessels, in case some beast should be scattered from the herd, but in vain. On this occasion, also, I saw two lions at a distance.
At night the wind blew in coldly at the door and windows, and even this morning the north-east wind was cool. At half-past six we proceed E.N.E., and in a bend further to the right E. and E. by S., where we make a stronger evolution to the right. Eight o’clock. Libàhn from S.E. by S. to S. We glide over shallows apparently consisting of rubble-stone; the wind becomes strong and tosses the waves. A quarter before nine, S.E. by S. to S., then still more to the left, where we are soon thrown by the wind on the left shore, and stop in E.S.E. Thibaut is with me, and they are calling for him; his ship is full of water, and all the crew are summoned there: it is fortunate that we are near land. Selim Capitan neglected to have the vessels caulked at Khartùm, or to order at least gotrahm (instead of tar) to be applied to the parts which we had stopped up with some oakum.
At five minutes’ distance above, a large village deserted by people; we are magnanimous enough on our side to keep the crew from plundering it. It is slightly elevated: the same is also the case with the shore, so that shallow lakes are formed right and left, at present dry, and having vents to the water, which apparently are kept open by human hands for the sustentation of the soil,—on which, however, nothingis seen. A number of snail-shells are lying together on the surface just as I have seen in other places, and it seems that snails are eaten. We remain here on account of the accident to Thibaut’s vessel, but the shores,à talus, do not allow us to bring it on the dry land. Thermometer 17° and 24°.
VARIOUS SPECIES OF GRASSES. — FORMATION OF THE SHORES. — WATERFOWLS. — AN ANTELOPE OF THE TETE SPECIES, NOW AT BERLIN. — STRATA OF THE SHORE. — THE SOBÀT RIVER. THE MAIN ROAD FOR THE NATIVES FROM THE HIGHLANDS TO THE PLAINS. — OBSERVATIONS ON THE COURSE OF THE NILE AND SOBÀT. — A THOUSAND ANTELOPES SEEN MOVING TOGETHER! — WILD BUFFALOES, LIONS, AND HYÆNAS. — AFRICA, THE CRADLE OF THE NEGRO RACE. — THE SHUDDER-EL-FAS: DESCRIPTION OF THIS SHRUB. — ARNAUD’S CHARLATANRY. — OUR AUTHOR FEARED BY THE FRENCHMEN. — ARNAUD AND SABATIER’S JOURNALS: THE MARVELLOUS STORIES OF THE FORMER. — THIBAUT’S JEALOUSY. — VISIT OF A SHEIKH OF THE SHILLUKS. — FEAR OF THE TURKS AT THESE PEOPLE. — SULIMAN KASHEF PURSUED BY A LION.
18th March.—We sail at a quarter before seven o’clock with a cold north-east wind S.E., and then S. by E. and S. The wind, however, becomes too powerful; twice are we driven on oyster-beds—that is, on those thorn muscles, as if over stones, and have reefed sails to prevent the ships from going to pieces, their condition being so bad. A quarter after seven. From S. by E. to the left. Visible sand-banks in the curve seem to block up our road, but we managed to pass by them on the right, with the assistance of the sails, close to the left shore towards S.E., and away in the bend to E. by S. Half-past seven. S.E. by E., and then a quarter before eight right round; six huntsmen’s tokuls being near a sand-bank on the lower shore of the projection of the left side of the river.We halt on the left by a shallow island clothed with low verdure towards S.S.W., and intend to stop here to-day and to-morrow to make observations, and the most needful repairs to the vessels and sails.
Suliman Kashef shot yesterday evening, at a gazelle-hunt, a large antelope, called by the Arabs Tete, in the foreleg, shattering it to pieces; the animal fell twice, but made off at last on three legs. Sabatier and I had chosen the left wing, and concealed ourselves with one of my servants in the high grass: the former fired and missed. The cracked earth displayed a magnificent soil: the grass, standing thickly in tufts, reached up to our breast, and was a great obstacle at the beginning of our rapid march. It was still green at the bottom, and the present desiccation of the ground, on which we remarked everywhere the traces of footsteps of wild beasts, and their dung, might therefore have only taken place a short time. This grass, narrow and three-edged, with cylindrical spikes, formed the principal produce of the soil. Less common was the grass similar to our species with flat two-edged leaves; it had knotty stalks like the three-edged, but a couple of spikes grew together on each blade (I have remarked this previously), which unfortunately were not yet at maturity, and therefore very small. The third species of grass consisted of slender reeds, cropped and sprouting anew, or trod on the ground. I perceived, also, some bamie growing wild, and birds’ nests of grass hanging on it.
I had lost sight of my comrade; and although at the commencement of my excursion I had seen the vessels sailing up the river at my side, it soon became dark. Suliman Kashef, however, had the sagacityon his return to the vessels, to order the reeds to be set on fire as signals, so that luckily I found my way back, though sinking every now and then up to the knees into the deep foot-prints of hippopotami close to the river,—a further proof that the shores, being only slightly elevated, form shallow lakes here at the rainy season, which are not dried up so soon.
I had taken a short walk previously on the left shore. The very same appearances of water remaining behind were visible, and I found muscles on the dry ground, amongst which were the Erethria ovata. Long traces of little deposits of earth, which, on closer examination, I discovered to be dams against the high water on the shore itself; and the alluvial reeds in conjunction with the muscles, make me conjecture that the Sobàt ascends over its shores here, as in many other places. Behind these low deposits lay an unlimited stubble-field on the other side of the village which lies on a gently ascending hill, elevated perhaps by the remains of clay walls, and stretching far beyond the horizon. The better kind of tokuls have frequently a roof, but the eaves only project inconsiderably: the smaller ones have a round form of roof, low sleeping places and reed-hedges being between them. Dinkas are said to dwell there; but not a person, not a living creature, is to be seen. Thermometer, sunrise, 17°; noon, 28°; sunset, 26°.
19th March.—We all dine together in the open air, after an antelope-hunt. The island on which we are, is, properly speaking, a large broad sand-bank, about a quarter of an hour long: its somewhat elevated back is covered with verdure, and is connected with the shore on the right at low water-mark.Purslane (Arabic Rigli) is found very commonly upon it; we see also numerous birds fishing in the many tongue-shaped segments of the upper part, and, in fact, sharing among themselves the narrow lake on the high right shore, close to which is a village, from whence the people have likewise fled. These feathered occupants seem to remove very seldom from this happy place. The antelopes presented themselves in great numbers; but Suliman Kashef’s body-guard, though generally good shots, did not know the huntsman’s custom of dividing and forming a chain, so as to catch the herd in the middle. I had no inclination, either, to join in such a surrounding of the game; for these Turks fire as if they were shooting in files, and their guns carry far, and are always recommended to the care of the supreme Allàh.
20th March.—Departure at a quarter after nine o’clock, with a favourable north-east wind, without sails, S.S.W. and S.W. by W., where, on the right, behind the high shore, a village lies in the bend to the left, and below it a broad sand-bank, on which some long-legged water-fowls are wandering about. We leave at the right side another sand-bank exactly similar to the former, throwing its shallows far beyond the middle of the river, and halt, S.S.E. at the right shore at half-past ten o’clock. Suliman Kashef’s halberdiers bring eight antelopes, one of which I procure, being the largest of the Tete species. This specimen is now in the Zoological Museum at Berlin as anova species.
The shores have widened here, and fall off in an angle of 45° to 50°: though they appear on this account lower, yet it is plainly visible by the steeperplaces, that they always become higher. It is only below in the places where the river beats against, that the bluish clay is seen: the remaining part of the shores has, apparently, merely constituents of the same, as is the case in most places where the high water has not washed away the crust of humus crumbling from above and covering the base of the surface; for the original soil discloses itself immediately under the covering of earth, as is seen in precipices, and clefts in rocks caused by water. The river has also thrown or deposited thick layers on the shores. We must not be deceived here by observing various strata of earth mixed above and below with sand; this is a later alluvial deposit.
A pure layer of clay is never to be seen, however, in these tracts of strata, so far as I have remarked here and on the Nile. If it does appear, it lies either as the foundation of the whole, below on the banks of the water, as on the Nile; for all the ground there is alluvial and earthy deposits, gained when the high water is drawn off; or it rises, as in the Sobàt, with the talus of the shores to the surface, which is covered with a crust of humus. The Sobàt dug a bed for itself in firm clay-ground that resisted the water, and remained tolerably constant in the trench opened by it, without having altered its course, for no gohrs are seen on dry ground; but perhaps, in some places, it has flowed over its bed, and formed channels. On the contrary, the White Stream wallowed for a long time in the deep slime of an emptied lake, before it threw up solid dams, on which there are marshy forests, as on the old shores. This long valley-basin lies also on a layer of clay.
The Sobàt may be considered as a further boundary of the peninsula of Sennaar, and have given to the latter the name of Gesira. Certainly it has been, like the Blue Nile, a main-road for the tribes of the highlands of Ethiopia to the valleys of these countries; and this must have been especially the case because it has no accompanying marsh-lakes. Such nations could not have wound down from the mountains of Bari and the highlands there, by reason of the many marshes; for we are not to suppose that nomadic tribes can provide themselves and families with a stock of provisions for a long journey, or stow entire herds in their hewn-out trunks of trees (canoes); and it is impossible that the cattle could have been driven along the shore for their use.
The further I ascend the Sobàt, the plainer I perceive why the right shore just behind Khartùm appears higher than the left, and why I could not get rid of the idea that this oblique inclination of the land was in opposition to the course and the mouth of the Nile, but still might be explained. The deposit of particles of earth and sand can only come from above, and will always try to level and equalise the tracts of land which the Nile covers with showers of rain, brooks, and rivulets. It is clear that the surface is elevated by that means, and that, where these washed-away and liquid particles of earth reach a stream like the White Nile, they are carried down by it, without the other shore (the left side of the Nile here) deriving naturally any advantages therefrom.
The high mountain chain of Fàzogl and Habesh mixed, as I conjecture, its collective waters, owing to a breach in its partition-walls, and their slime andmorasses, and perhaps entire hills of decayed and corrupted matter connected therewith, filled depths in the lower valley on the side of the Nile up to the Delta—its most famous memorial,—and levelled the mountains of the neighbourhood, when Bertat, Dinka, and the country between the Sobàt and Bari rivers might have shot up in indomitable strength like artesian wells. Such catastrophes roll mountains and masses like a brook does its little pebbles, and throw up the water released from confinement in the cavities of heights which attract and collect it. A flood of liquid earth rolled then far and wide from the mountains without order and with numerous arms, but conformably to nature, the heavy particles sank. The water itself washed away, smoothed and levelled the ground. Therefore now we perceive those immeasurable plains on the Sobàt, whereon beasts cannot hide themselves, and which would be without shelter in the rainy season, if there were not mountains and forests in the neighbourhood.
Though it be mathematically proved that the great Nile runs in a channel as upon an ass’s back, yet we find just the contrary in the White Nile; but the Sobàt even displays that phenomenon, although not at this moment, for its shores are emptied, except in the lowermost grade. They lie and stretch higher than the adjacent land, being heaped up by the waves of the river; they are, however, generally narrow dams, only appearing wide in the places where there are shallow lakes behind in distant connection, or overgrown gohrs, the grass border of which more easily withstands that deep washing away than these immeasurable plains, which might be called beautiful from theirsplendid soil, if Ceres waved her golden ears, and Pomona offered shade and fruit. They shew, indeed, but little declination to the Nile, for which the Sobàt itself affords the best standard, being stagnant, and its shores only increasing in height here and there. The shores become higher, as on the great Nile itself; the less precipitous ones (although this is only local) are deceptive, as I have remarked several feet difference on the disrupt shore, and still more on the return voyage. I cannot divest myself of the idea that a lake has stood here also, or it may be that the surface of the earth from the region above to this, has been laid flat by the inundation, similar to the level fields of Egypt.
There is an incredible number of deer on the shores of the Sobàt, for I can add from my own conviction, so far as my eyes and ears do not deceive me, that I saw herds of antelopes at least a thousand strong—the Turks say from three to four thousand. About evening they shew themselves in immense lines on the bare horizon of the steppe, stand still, and approach—their tread sounds, in truth, like the evolutions of distant cavalry; at last, as soon as it is dark, they separate in the little bushes on the margin of the shore, to descend to the water. Hitherto I have not been able to seize this opportunity, because no one would remain with me on account of the lions and other savage beasts prowling about here, and it did not seem to me exactly safe, by reason of my close acquaintance with the lion and his just revenge, to lie alone behind a bush, and shoot some of the animals at a few paces off. My cook, however, has promised to accompany me on such sport, when we come again to a suitable place.
We proceeded this afternoon at two o’clock with sails in a south-easterly direction, and halted for the sake of antelope-hunting at three o’clock, at the right shore, E.S.E., before the curve to the right. Four o’clock: we sail to S.S.E., then a bend to the left, S.E. by E., where we stop again to hunt and also to remain. An antelope-herd of about sixty head was standing shortly before at a little distance on the shore, like a flock of goats, in harmless innocence and anticipating nothing evil. Wild buffaloes, lions, and hyænas were seen by several of our men: where are the holes and corners in which these beasts lurk? there must be mountains. Thermometer, sunrise, 15°; noon, 26°, 27°; from four to five o’clock, 28°; sunset 26½°.
21st March.—We sail from our place at half-past six o’clock, quite quietly, without a drum being beat, and go E.S.E., with a cold north-east wind. Half-past seven.—From E. Libàhn: again to the left, E.S.E.; eight o’clock: and then again to the left at nine, N.N.E., where we stop at the left shore for sport, pretending that it is owing to the contrary winds.—Oh you Turks!
M. Arnaud now pays himself in skins, which he demands very freely for “son Altesse,” but which he intends to sell in France at 500 francs the head. Eleven o’clock: we go with libàhn round a corner, and come to N., whence the river winds again slowly to the right, N.E. by N. and to E., where we are driven forward and indeed without sails. I remark here that the lower border of the river is rocky, with a layer of soft stone under the clay, from which it may originate, and appearing to be limestone formation,until we break off the deceitful exterior, and the apparent corrosion by the action of the atmosphere turns out to be alluvial deposit,—the clay, however, remaining sticking to the hands like sand. One o’clock: E.N.E. All the vessels bear up! Four o’clock: three reïs had been sent forward with the sandàl to sound the water, and the men were honourable enough to express their conviction that there was still a watercourse: we shall get now regularly fixed upon every sand-bank. I, for my part, would like to make yet a good way, for I may stumble perhaps upon a firmer foundation of stone or something else new. We proceed, therefore, further,—against Mohammed Ali’s will, and certainly against Ahmed Basha’s, who may be very much in want of vessels and men at this moment, without any invasion on the part of England or France. E. by N., and we squat again. A quarter before five o’clock: S.E. by E. Water is on the right, but we cannot get there because the bed of the river is elevated in the middle, and these banks are magnificently larded with the spiry Conchylia, which would deprive the vessels instantaneously of their beautiful caulking. The reïs are sent out again in the sandàl; everyone is in doubt what is to be done. Suliman Kashef and Selim Capitan want to return. An island lies in view above. I should like to be there to make observations, but that cannot be. Thermometer, 17°, 28° to 30°, 27°.
22nd March.—Suliman Kashef sails back for the sake of the chase; two other vessels follow: obedience seems renounced. I go to the island and shoot two antelopes, dark as it was. No artifice, such as I have already related, was necessary in this neighbourhood.
23rd March.—We set out indeed at seven o’clock in the morning for the return voyage, but stop soon again, notwithstanding the favourable wind at the right shore, because deer are seen close to it. The Sobàt and the Blue river might be conduits for the high land, like the Tigris and Euphrates, Indus and Ganges were for the valley-land, made subsequently fit for the nourishment of nations. Tradition and history up to our time, teach us that Nature was not powerful enough, and perhaps did not wish it, to form everlasting barriers between nations, whether seas, rivers, or mountains; for the destination of man is perfectability, which can only be attained by mutual commercial intercourse.
Was Africa, therefore, although in the same latitude as other countries,—for example, Arabia,—exclusively created for the black species, who, so far as I have had experience of them, will never leave the low grade of intelligence in which they have been for so long a time, until they come into a closer and more continuous association with whites? Anthropophagy, indeed, makes the Nile the partition-wall between Asia and Africa, instead of the Isthmus of Suez and the Red Sea. Our Sobàt (as also perhaps the White river, unless the black people from below ascended here after the drying up of that part assumed by me to have been a lake, which may be almost taken for granted if we consider the affinity of languages from the Dinka country to Bari,) drew down probably only a black race,—a younger stem, I conjecture, than that of Caucasus,—between which and the nations of the Nile there is a total difference in colour and manners.
Habesh, like a second Cashmere, might be the cradle of white men; no less than Arabia, lying opposite, which has nourished perhaps the same species, but burnt by the sun;—and if a black race shot up here instead of the white, the rivers of High Asia that disembogue on this side were large enough to import white people. The Red Sea and the Persian Gulf must, indeed, at the very earliest time, have formed nearly insurmountable obstacles, if antediluvian shipbuilding, even without Noah’s ark, had not brought about cultivation, and caused the necessity of exertion and the desire of emigration; and who will answer for it that the Red Sea was not at one time a Tempe, so that an excursion to Africa might have been made under the shade of rose and orange trees? The divulsed coasts, the washed-away sharp rocks of the dangerous shallows, and the submarine mountains, might easily indicate that there was once a small irruption.