The heart of Africa, Vol. 1 (of 2)

by Georg August Schweinfurth

CHAPTER VIII.

Calamities by fire. Deliverance and escape. Six women-slaves burnt. Barterings. Domestication of wild-cats. Plague of cockroaches. Pillen-wasps. Agamæ and chameleons. Fever. Meteorology. Solar phenomenon. A festal reception with an unfortunate result. Disturbance of rest at night. Murmuring of prayers. Jewish school. Orgies and drum-beating. Casting out devils. Resolve to follow Aboo Sammat. Start towards the south. Passage of the Tondy. Character of the forest. The water-bock. Scenery by night. Shereefee’s attack. Seriba Duggoo. Consequences of the steppe-burning. Seriba Dagguddoo. Burnt human bones and charred huts. Tropics in winter. Two kinds of ant-hills. Arrival in Sabby. Nocturnal festivities of the Bongo. Desolation of the country. Goat-suckers. Abundance of game. The zebra-ichneumon. The spectral mantis. Lions. Wonderful chase after hartebeests. Snake and antelope at a shot.

So satisfactory was the condition of my health that it appeared to me entirely to confute the opinion entertained by Europeans that a prolonged residence in the tropics is destructive alike of physical and moral energy. For those probably who live in indolent repose, and who are surrounded by all the appliances of domestic comfort, who, so far from undertaking the trouble of a journey, have scarcely the activity to take a walk, there may be some ground for the presumption; and more particularly may this be the case in Mohammedan countries where slothfulness and laissez faire are as contagious as gaping is all the world over. But nothing of the kind is to be found for a traveller whose elasticity is kept at all on the stretch, and who is conscious of not having a minute to spare; the exercise of his faculties will keep them in vigour as full as though he were still on his native soil. For my own part, I could not help thinking of the contrast between the rainy season which I spent here and that which, in 1865, I had passed in Gallabat; now all was animated and cheerful; life seemed free from care; my health was unimpaired, and I enjoyed the most intimate converse with Nature; but then, on the contrary, it had been a perpetual struggle between getting well and getting ill, and I had never ceased to be haunted by the depressing influences of a weary spirit.

However happily my time in the Seriba glided on, still it was not altogether free from peril. An incident full of alarm occurred to me on the night of the 22nd of May. The rain was coming down in torrents, and about two hours after midnight a tremendous storm ensued. The thunderclaps rattling through the woods sounded like an avalanche, and coming rapidly one upon another, seemed to keep pace with the lightning which gleamed through the darkness of the night. Suddenly there was a shrieking of women’s voices, and at the same instant the blackness of night was changed to the light of day, as the blaze of a burning hut flared up aloft. The flaming structure was only separated from my own quarters by my single granary. Aroused by the outcry I sprang up; for to be caught asleep in an edifice constructed of straw and bamboo is to be enveloped in fire, and is almost certain death. The hazard was very imminent; in a very few minutes my hut must apparently be in flames; the work of demolition began at once; my powder was conveyed without delay to a place of safety; my chests and my herbarium were then secured; all the smaller articles of my furniture were thrown into great waterproof coverings and dragged out en masse. Perhaps about half of my property had thus been placed out of jeopardy when we observed that the wind bore the flames in a different direction, and fortunately the light framework of the burning roof gave way and it soon fell in; saturated as the straw was with the rain it put a check to the further spreading of the flames. Now was the time to draw our breath and look around; we could now give over our hurry and scurry, and examine the real condition of things. I stood almost petrified at the reflection how narrowly I had escaped coming to utter grief on this unlucky night; I thought how deplorable had been my lot if I had been reduced to a condition of nakedness and want in this inhospitable land; I became alive to the sense of shame with which I should have retraced my way back to Khartoom within a year, and with my task unfinished; I was dispirited; I knew not what might happen, and perhaps this fire was only a prelude to yet more bitter experience.

KILLED BY LIGHTNING.

The tokkul which had been burnt down was hardly five-and-twenty paces from my very bed. There, struck by lightning, six female slaves had met their simultaneous death; a seventh had been untouched by the electric fluid, and had contrived, half dead from burning, to effect an escape from the flaming pile. When a clearance was made on the next morning, after the ashes had been removed, the bodies of the ill-fated women were found completely charred, lying closely packed together just as they had gone to sleep in the hut around its centre support, which had been the conductor of the lightning. They formed a ghastly spectacle, at which even the native negroes could not suppress a shudder, whilst the recently imported Niam-niam slaves made no disguise of the relish with which they scented the odour of the burnt flesh, as they helped to clear away the débris. Scarcely any incident could befall a traveller more disquieting than this; it had haunted me in my dreams all through my sojourn in the Soudan; forebodings of it had stuck to my fancy, and now it appeared to be well-nigh on the very point of literal fulfilment.

One of the Nubian soldiers had, amongst the six victims of the conflagration, to bewail the loss of his sweetheart. To such a degree did this bereavement prey upon him that he entirely lost his reason, and so gave a considerable amount of trouble to the occupants of the Seriba. An instance of affection like this never came to my knowledge elsewhere in these districts.

As far as regards danger from fire, the settlement here was at a disadvantage when compared with various Seribas in which the huts are not crowded so closely together; but in other respects, such as the more complete security of the territory itself, the abundance of provisions, the rareness of mosquitoes, and the small number of white ants, this Seriba had recommendations which put every other in the shade. Very advantageous was the appearance at my door, morning after morning, of the neighbouring Dinka, who brought every variety of their productions for me to purchase. In this way I was kept amply provided not only with yams and earthnuts, the purest of oil and the finest of honey, but I was able readily to obtain all the corn I required for my retinue. Moreover, it happened not unfrequently that I had some natural production offered me of considerable rarity, and thus the edge of my botanical curiosity was kept continually sharpened. In the very depth of the rainy season by getting the eggs of some geese and bustards, and even of some ostriches, I managed to counterbalance the meagre produce of my poultry-breeding.

SPEKE AND BAKER’S TRAVELS.

Of these opportunities of seeing considerable numbers of the natives gathered round me, I made the best use I could to obtain the measurements of their bodies, an achievement on which I had set my mind with some degree of pertinacity. At the end of one year’s residence in the interior I had made a synopsis (under about forty heads) of the measurements of nearly two hundred individuals, but unfortunately very few of my memoranda are now forthcoming. During my intercourse with the natives I very often allowed what pictures I had to be exhibited, in order to satisfy their repeated inquiries. All they saw stirred up their unfeigned delight, and continually prompted them to ask in astonishment why they had not learnt the same things from the “Turks,” and to express their conviction that that must be a wonderful country where tools and guns were made. The indolent Nubians, too, would pay me visits most assiduously till I was absolutely weary of them. They would often make their appearance quite early and I could only disengage myself from them by letting them have my books and pictures about Africa to look through. The illustrations in ‘Le Tour du Monde,’ in Speke’s ‘Travels,’ and in Baker’s ‘Hunting Adventures,’ all alike furnished them with inexhaustible material for question and answer. They shouted their approbation aloud, and crowned their admiring estimate of any picture by crying out “bazyatoo” (the very facsimile), again and again. The name which Speke’s book acquired in the Seriba was ‘The History of King Kamrasi,’ while they called Baker’s work ‘The Book of the Elephant Hunter.’

In the beginning of September I was able to make a despatch to the river of my treasures I had collected, and to forward them by way of Khartoom to Europe. I had upwards of forty packages, and to put them together and make them secure was the business of a good many days. Particularly laborious was it to sew them all upon skins, and still more laborious, I do not doubt, to rip them up again when they reached their destination; for during their transit across the parching desert, the hides are not unfrequently so dried up that they become as hard as tin. For the protection of my packages and to prevent the botanical contents being invaded by insects or gnawed by rats, I had no difficulty in providing the caoutchouc substance of the Carpodinus, the “Mono” of the Bongo. This I obtained in a fresh condition, when it has the appearance of a well-set cream, and washed it lightly over the linen or the paper like a varnish. Not an insect found its way through this coating, and my packages all arrived thoroughly uninjured in spite of their being a twelvemonth on their way. Less adapted for the purpose I found both the milky sap of the fig and of the butter tree, because it is not so uniform in its character and does not admit of being spread so readily.

The produce of Ghattas’s Company was this year four hundred loads, being somewhere about 220 cwt., which would be worth in Khartoom nearly 4000l. In order to reach this amount, certainly not less than three hundred elephants had been destroyed, and probably considerably more.

Although the ants at this spot did not abound in the wholesale way in which they did in many other Seribas, there were nevertheless plenty of inconveniences in my quarters, and like every other traveller I had to get accustomed to them as soon as I could.

My want of space was a great difficulty. I was hardly at all better off in the hut where I ordinarily lived than in an old overcrowded lumber room. I had no cupboards and no small chests, and consequently I was compelled to be ever packing up and unpacking my thousand bits of property. The framework, of my own construction, which reached up into the circular roof did something to increase my accommodation, and I hung bags upon it containing my clothes and my linen, and a whole host of little things besides I stuck into the straw thatch above. Under such circumstances, no wonder that I had perpetual conflict with rats, crickets, and cock-roaches, and that they were a constant source of annoyance.

NOXIOUS VERMIN.

The only method which was really an effectual guarantee for the protection of any articles from being gnawed to bits was to hang them up; but whenever at nightfall I had any packages which could not be suspended there was one device of which I made use, and which was tolerably successful in keeping rats at a distance. One of the commonest animals hereabouts was the wild cat of the steppes (Felis maniculata). Although the natives do not breed them as domestic animals, yet they catch them separately when they are quite young and find no difficulty in reconciling them to a life about their huts and enclosures, where they grow up and wage their natural warfare against the rats. I procured several of these cats, which, after they had been kept tied up for several days, seemed to lose a considerable measure of their ferocity and to adapt themselves to an indoor existence so as to approach in many ways to the habits of the common cat. By night I attached them to my parcels, which were otherwise in jeopardy, and by this means I could go to bed without further fear of any depredations from the rats.

Quite helpless, however, did I appear with regard to the devastations of the crickets, which found their way through my stoutest chests, ate holes into all my bags, and actually fretted my very wearing-apparel and body-linen. Subsequently I received a supply of borax, and this turned out to be an adequate security against their mischief.

The encroachment of the wood-worms in the bamboos which composed my hut developed itself into a nuisance of a fresh sort. To myself it was a matter of great indifference whether the building collapsed sooner or later, but just at present it was a great annoyance to me that all day long there should be an unceasing shower of fine yellow dust, which accumulated on everything till it lay as thick as my finger, and almost exceeded the bounds of endurance.

Another noxious insect which was to be found in every hut was the Pillen-wasp (Eumenes tinctor). This was nearly two inches long, and had a habit of forming its nest in the straw right at the top of the circular roof. Associated with eight or ten others it made a huge cell, and flying in and out through the narrow doorway, which was the only avenue for light, it came into constant collision with my face. Its sting was attended by distracting agony far worse than the sting of any bee. Throughout the entire year I was baffled by these wasps, which were beautiful in colour, having wings of a fine violet blue. I made many attempts to destroy their ingeniously-constructed nest, and only succeeded after catching them in a butterfly-net and killing them one by one.

Throughout the tropics the harmless kinds of lizards may invariably be reckoned amongst the settlers in every house. Prettily marked skinks (Euprepes quinquelineatus and E. pleurostictus) enlivened my abode, whilst the graceful gecko (Hemidactylus verrucalutus) clambered up and down the walls just as frequently as in Egypt and in Nubia. But more numerous than all were the sociable agamæ (Agama colonorum), which kept nodding their heads, in a way that was extremely irritating to the Mohammedans, who fancied that it was the devil making fun of their prayers. I had previously repeatedly seen this species of the lizard in the overhanging rocky crags of the desert valleys on the Egyptian coast of the Red Sea; but here it appeared to lodge itself quite as freely in the huts as in the woods. The head of the male is of an orange-colour, and is easily detected from a considerable distance. Very ridiculous are their movements when any one approaches a tree upon which they are running up and down. They betake themselves to the farther side of the stem, and keep stopping at intervals, peeping out cunningly first from one branch and then from another, their large eyes beaming with a most knowing expression. Their favourite resort, however, in this district was the old woodwork of the palisades, and there they mustered in thousands.

I was very much surprised, at the beginning of the rainy season, at the large number of chameleons which at intervals clustered themselves upon the sprouting foliage. The common African sort grows to a very unusual size, and I saw several which could hardly be less than ten inches long. Scarcely less abundant is the smaller and slimmer species (C. lævigatus), which does not exhibit quite to the same extent the changes of its colour. Rolling its eyes in a very remarkable manner it answered the same purpose as the agama, with its nodding head, of getting up a joke against the Mohammedan fanatics. “What is a chameleon like?” I used to ask them, and not over delighted were they when they were told that the chameleon, with its one eye up and the other eye down, was a faki looking up to God in heaven, but at the same time keeping a sharp look-out upon the dollars of earth.

VALUE OF QUININE.

Thoroughly free, as I have said, from fever, during March and April, I persevered in taking my daily dose of ten grains or more of quinine; but as the heat diminished, and as the rainy season at its height was not so full of miasma, I gradually diminished, and in June and July entirely gave up my uniform administration of the tonic. But quinine still remained my sole medicine, my only resort in every contingency. If ever I got a chill, if ever I was wet through, or was troubled with any symptoms of indigestion, I lost no time in using it, knowing that for any traveller in a region such as this, any indisposition whatever is simply a doorway through which fever insidiously creeps and effects its dangerous lodgment. Any sudden giddiness in the head, or any spasm between the shoulders, or any failure in the functions of the limbs were all, I do not doubt, warnings of the ill-omened visitor, which I accepted in time to avert. Not only, as I have remarked, were fevers here quite common, but my own attendant, who had accompanied me from Alexandria, was prostrated some days by a very serious attack, and his condition of health was so much impaired that he had to be sent back on the next return of the boats. There were others, too, of my own people who had to endure attacks of less severity.

Expecting, as I had been, a much larger fall of rain, I could not be otherwise than much surprised at the meteorological facts which were actually exhibited. Although the rainfall extends over a longer period, the total average fall of water is less here than it is either in Gallabat or in Upper Sennaar, where the rain lasts only from the beginning of May to the beginning of October. There the rain, almost without exception, fell every night, and all night from sunset till daybreak; but here it was the result of experience that the rain ordinarily was to be expected between noon and night. All travelling consequently has to be accomplished before midday, and the journeyings are necessarily shorter than in the dry winter months. It may be taken as a rule that holds good very generally throughout the tropics that if the sun rises clear or becomes clear shortly after rising, there will pretty certainly be no rain for some four or five hours. In Gallabat it was considered rather a feat to walk during the rainy season from one house to another either in slippers or in Turkish shoes, but here, day after day, such protection for the soles of the feet was quite sufficient, even where the ground was not at all rocky.

CLIMATE AND TEMPERATURE.

European vegetables in Gallabat had generally been found to suffer from the excessive wet, and others had either run into weeds or in some way degenerated, but here, from May till August, we cultivated many sorts successfully, and made good use of the intervals which, sometimes for four or six days together, passed without any rain whatever. To confirm what I have said, I adduce the facts that in March 1869, in the centre of Bongoland (lat. 7° 20´ N.), the “Khareef” was opened by four little showers; in April there were seven considerable pourings; in May seven falls of rain, lasting several hours; in June ten, in July eleven, and in August twelve. These must not be reckoned as days of rain, for the truth is, an entire day of uninterrupted rain never once occurred. The rainfall only up to June was attended by tempests or thunderstorms, after which date the violence of them gradually and almost entirely abated. Heuglin in 1863 had made the same observation. At the end of July there ensued an entire change of temperature, and only in exceptionally hot afternoons did the heat ever again reach the extreme point which it had done previously; but even at its maximum it had never exceeded 95° Fahr. in the huts, whilst in the open air it was ordinarily 2° lower. I could now rejoice in a degree of heat scarcely above what is common in our northern zone, and seldom registered a temperature above 77° Fahr. in my own quarters. This fall in the thermometer is very beneficial and refreshing to the European, whose skin, exhausted by repeated perspiration, is very often distressed by a perpetual nettlerash.

The earliest rain which I observed this year fell while I was still at the Meshera on the 2nd of March; and the 16th of that month was the date on which the wind altered its course, and for the first time deviated from its long-prevailing north-easterly direction.

The uniformity of climate in equatorial Africa contributes very much to extend the range of particular species of plants. To this may be added the absence of those mountain systems which elsewhere, as in Asia, traverse the continent in all directions. Without let or hindrance the trade-winds exert their influence over the entire breadth of this region. Any interruption of the rainy season between the two zenith positions of the sun, which in Bongoland are some months apart, has never been authenticated. Although upon the north-west terraces of Abyssinia the rainy season might appear, through the influence of the mountains, to be obliterated or obscure, yet it could always be traced; but nevertheless the whole aggregate of circumstances which contribute to these precedents is not to be estimated during the transitory observations of one short sojourn.

Neither during the continuation of my wanderings towards the south did I find any indication which seemed to evidence that two rainy seasons had anywhere coalesced so as to become one continuous period of rain, which sufficed throughout the year to maintain an uninterrupted renewal of vegetation. Nowhere in the equatorial districts which I visited (not even in the territory of the Monbuttoo, of which the latitude is between 3° and 4° N.) did it appear that there ever failed a uniform period for foliage to develop itself. Apparent exceptions might be found where the condition of the soil is never otherwise than wet throughout the year; but even in this low latitude there is a dry season and a wet season, just as decided as in Nubia, twelve degrees further to the north.

PHENOMENON ON THE 17ᵗʰ OF MAY 1869.,
HALF-PAST FIVE, P.M. LAT 7° 25.´N.

SOLAR PHENOMENON.

Between five and six o’clock on the afternoon of the 18th of May, while I was absorbed in my writing, I was suddenly startled by the outcry of a number of my people calling me to make haste out and witness the singular appearance which was arresting their attention on the south-west horizon. Great masses of clouds were covering the declining sun, whilst all below the heavy cumulus the heavens gleamed with the golden shimmer of a glorious sunset. Like a pile from the mighty Alps, stern and imposing, surrounded by dazzling glaciers and by many an avalanche, the central clouds of this great gathering massed themselves in ponderous layers which rolled majestically to the north. Starting out abruptly from the brilliant glare of the setting sun, these layers on their upper edge distinctly assumed the form of three vast swellings, while around the margin of each of these there gleamed the light of an unearthly glory; colours of the richest hue combined to give an effect as though each of the projecting accumulations were circled by a rainbow. Midway between the vanishing violet of the bow and the sombre ridge of cloud streamed a flood of light which repeated itself upon the superior margin of the wondrous spectrum. In three directions (issuing not directly as from the sun in the centre of the mass, but as though two parhelia besides contributed their power) there rose separately from each of the three tumescent rolls of cloud shadowy beams of light embracing the whole firmament above, whilst in addition to all this, there were secondary groups of beams diverging from the angles where the rainbow arches intersected. An appearance somewhat similar to these shadowed rays or streaks of alternate light and shade, resulting from the unequal masses of the floating clouds, has been recorded by Professor Tyndall as witnessed in Algiers. The colour of the rainbows on their edge nearest to the sun, and in consequence approximate to the clouds, was so remarkable that it could not fail to excite my attention. Altogether it was a spectacle not to be forgotten. The rainbow-like phenomenon had not the appearance of being an ordinary arch repeated thrice, but was one scallopped bow composed of three distinct but successive limbs: it continued for about five minutes, and allowed me ample time to make a sketch of its striking features.[36]

During September I found an opportunity to make a third excursion to the Tondy, and had the good fortune to make some valuable additions to my botanical store, but apart from this my days glided on without variety, and I have no episodes of interest to relate.

Fastened down as I was for the present to one spot, I had to limit my observations to its immediate neighbourhood, and accordingly with considerable perseverance and at the cost of some trouble, and, I may be permitted to add, of a good deal of soap, I went on taking the measurements of many of the natives, who I thought might render me service. There were hundreds of bearers, and after diligently reckoning them up and instituting comparisons based on written estimates and on a variety of portraits, I was able to satisfy myself as to the characteristic features of their nationality which they exhibit. I moreover devoted a considerable time to learn the dialects of the district, and found that the facility with which the different slaves had mastered Arabic in their intercourse with the Nubians was of great assistance to me in my endeavours.

Now and then there would occur incidents that were somewhat ludicrous. One day a visit from the superintendent of a distant Seriba was announced, and Idrees was all on the alert to give his colleague a fitting reception. The arrival was expected of Ali, the Vokil of Biselli, under whose guidance Miss Tinné had passed the most memorable year of her life. In readiness for the entrance of Ali into the Seriba, the whole armed force was drawn up in double line before the gate. Ali was not only Ali (“tall and strong”) by name, but he was in fact a head taller than any of his retinue. Full of state, with majestic mien, with the turban of the believer upon his head and the splendid hezam of Tarablus around his loins, he was just entering the military avenue when the soldiers fired their salute. The discharge was rendered, and they all mutually smothered each other in smoke. But the echoes of the salute were hardly silent, and wreaths of smoke still hovered in the air, when all of a sudden the solemnity was interrupted by the cry of “Russahs! russahs!” (bullets, bullets), and one of the soldiers rushed from the ranks, dashed down his musket, and seemed bereft of his senses. In truth, his vis-à-vis had forgotten to remove the charge from his rusty old gun, and the shots that had been designed for the geese in some neighbouring marsh had terribly punished the legs of his unfortunate comrade. The poor fellow applied to me for assistance, but I could not help him otherwise than by a kind word. I had not in my possession any instruments to extract the shot, and so I did the best I could to pacify by quoting mysterious texts, and by commending him to the mercy of Allah.

Rarely did a week elapse without the repetition of some such mischance as this. Perpetually in peril myself of being shot, I was ever being called upon to exercise my surgical skill either in bandaging fractures, or in extracting balls great or small; but as most frequently the shots found their way into the legs of the sufferers, in the legs most frequently I allowed them to remain.

PRAYERS OF THE PRIESTS.

Although my fatigue by day made repose by night very essential to me, my rest was sadly disturbed by the habits of my people. Quite intolerable at times was the eternal babbling of their prayers, which, beginning in the evening hours, were wearily prolonged, and nothing could accustom me to the clamour which they made. They seemed at times to drive me in my impatience well-nigh to distraction. Some priests had arrived from Darfoor, who surpassed all else in the clamour they raised. With a lot of gibberish utterly incomprehensible, through their antiquated pronunciation, to any of the Nubians, they proceeded to recite the verses of the Koran with the grinding monotony of a mill. My own people, however, devoted Mohammedans as they were, on these occasions took my part, and warned off the disturbers of my rest from the proximity of the hut. I cannot tell whether they were not such enthusiastic believers, or whether their animosity was excited by the bombastic erudition of the Foorians, but they set to work in earnest, and made a clearance as effectual as I had once seen accomplished by the officers of the liberal-tyrannical government of Muntass Bey in Suakin. That ruler, when I had last been residing in his town, had had the unparalleled audacity to send his Khavasses into the neighbouring mosque, and to threaten to make a free use of the kurbatch if the prayers at night were not promptly stopped. He sent a message to the effect that if the priests wanted to pray they need not shriek, for Allah could hear just as well without the outcry. The daring of such an intrusion had never been matched from the day of creation onwards.

Idrees, the superintendent of the Seriba, had eleven sons all nearly of the same age, a circumstance readily explained by his plurality of wives. For these youths, whom the children of other residents were allowed to join, he had instituted something like a regular Jewish school, and no one who has ever had the chance of witnessing the proceedings of such an institution can forget the sensation they left upon his ears. Four times in the course of the four-and-twenty hours, at intervals of four hours apart, does the chorus of voices in these Nubian schools break out in alternate humming, and buzzing, and shouting, occasionally varied by the didactic hammering of the master, by the switch of his rod, and the consequent screams of the youngsters, which were invariably followed by a louder and livelier articulation. There is one school time just before sunset and another very shortly after, so that every attempt at repose is certain to be thwarted. However, I could always endure this disturbance with much more equanimity than the humbug of the prayers; for, however erroneous, according to our ideas, might be the method of instruction in school, yet its object at least was laudable.

Occasions there were when nightly orgies were all the rage, and the idle pretext under which these were maintained was that the plague of flies permitted no rest. The Nubians, when they had made themselves tipsy with their detestable merissa, had the habit of finding an outlet for their hilarity in banging on the kettle-drums which hung at the entrance of the Seriba. To me this abominable noise was a very thorn in the flesh, and as the huge drums were very near my quarters, and had broken my sleep often enough, I took the liberty of sprinkling the parchment with a sufficient quantity of muriatic acid, so that the next time they were drummed they split across. Till some new kettle-drums were provided I could slumber in peace.

AN INCANTATION.

Another interruption to a quiet night occasionally arose from the native wizards, who practised the mystery of casting out devils. I told them that they must be very indifferent charmers if they were unable to expel the devils by day as well as by night; but they did not appear to see matters at all in that light. One occasion there was in which, out of pure compassion, I permitted the proceedings to go on, although the noise was so extreme that it would never have been tolerated in the daytime. The wife of the Dinka interpreter in the Seriba had been long suffering under some chronic disorder, and he had undertaken a long day’s journey to fetch a very celebrated conjuror or “Cogyoor” to treat her case. The incantation began in a strain which would try the very stoutest of nerves: the strength of the wizard’s lungs was astounding, and could have won a wager against a steam-trumpet. The virtue of the proceeding, however, centred upon this, and ventriloquism was called in to assist in producing a dialogue between himself and the devil which possessed the patient. I say the “devil,” because the Biblical expression has accustomed us to the phrase, but I disapprove of the translation, and would rather say the “demon.”

In the most penetrating tone, something like the cackling of frightened hens, only a thousand times louder, the sorcerer began the enchantment, which consisted of several acts. The first act lasted two hours without intermission, and unless it were heard it could never be imagined. I was assured that this introduction was quite indispensable—​as a means of intimidating the devil and compelling him to reply, it could not by any means be omitted from the execution of the charm. The dialogue which followed between the wizard and the devil was carried on by the artifice of ventriloquism. The wizard made all kinds of inquiries as to the devil’s name, the period of his possession of the woman, his proceedings, and his whereabouts, and then went on to ask about his lineage, his kinsfolk, and acquaintances. When for an hour or more the wizard had interrogated him till he had got all the answers he wanted, he set to work to provide the real remedy. Hurrying away into the wood, he got some root or herb, which perchance in many cases contributes to a cure. It all vividly reminded me of the clap-trap which advertisers and quacks are accustomed to employ, and how it may happen that they get hold of some simple and long-known material, which, under some marvellous name, they impose as a novelty upon the public. Puffing is part of their trade, and without a good deal of noise their business will not thrive in Europe any more than in Africa.

JOINING ABOO SAMMAT.

The rainy season in due time came to its end. For seven months and a half I had now been quietly quartered in the Seriba of Ghattas; but a change was now impending, as I had resolved to quit my limited range and to attach my fortunes to the care of Aboo Sammat, whom I have already mentioned. Repeatedly he had invited me, at his own expense, to visit with him the Niam-niam lands, and I had determined to follow the advice of my people, who knew his character, and to accept his offer. I discovered that he had penetrated considerably further to the south than any other, and that he had more than once crossed that problematic stream of the Monbuttoo which was said to flow quite independently of the Nile system towards the west. The prospect of visiting the Niam-niam would be much more restricted if I were to remain attached to the expeditions of Ghattas’s Company, as they had hitherto been confined to those nearest and most northerly districts of that country of which the first knowledge in Europe had been circulated by Piaggia.

I could not be otherwise than aware of the questionableness of giving up my safe quarters, and exchanging my security for the uncertain issues of a wandering life in Central Africa, but irresistible was the inducement to enlarge my acquaintance with the country and to find a wider field for my investigations. The season of the year was, moreover, quite in favour of pushing farther on than I had previously contemplated. Full of expectation, therefore, I turned my hopes towards the south, in an eastern direction, towards that untraversed region between the Tondy and the Rohl, which already is just as truly subject to the Khartoomers as that in which I had been sojourning.

In my immediate neighbourhood I had tolerably well exhausted the treasures of the botanical world; after the rains were over there was a comparative barrenness in the productions of nature. I made, indeed, my daily excursions, but they reached only to places which I had previously inspected. A sense of irksomeness began to predominate, and every tree of any magnitude, every ant-hill had become so familiar that they had entirely lost the charm of novelty.

Aboo Sammat, in the most complimentary way, had made me a variety of presents: by special messengers he had conveyed to me animal and vegetable curiosities of many sorts. He once sent me the munificent offering of a flock of five-and-twenty sheep; and at my own desire, but at his cost, he furnished me with a young interpreter to teach me the dialect of the Niam-niam. In the middle of November, on his return from the Meshera, he would take our Seriba on his way, and I resolved to join him.

The people at Ghattas’s quarters endeavoured, but to no purpose, to dissuade me; they represented in very melancholy colours the misery to which I should inevitably be exposed in the desert life of Aboo Sammat’s district, which was every now and then threatened with starvation. There would be no lack of monuments of antiquity (“antigaht,” as they called them), or of hunting, or of wild beasts, but I must be prepared for perpetual hunger. Against all this, however true it might be, I consoled myself with the reflection that Aboo Sammat would certainly manage to keep me in food, and the difference of one more or less in number could not be very serious.

Another important reason which weighed with me was the saving of expense in the way of travelling. The mere cost of bearers for a journey through the Niam-niam lands would be some thousand dollars, which, according to contract, would go into the pocket of Ghattas: this would entirely be avoided if Aboo Sammat fulfilled his promise, and there was nothing to induce me to suppose that he was otherwise than a man of his word.

Nothing now seemed longer to detain me in the Dyoor or Bongo countries: accordingly, resolved to make a start, I packed up my goods without delay, and made the Governor acquainted with my intention. A regular commotion followed in the Seriba: the clerks and notaries produced the contract which had been signed at Khartoom, and attempted not only to demonstrate that Aboo Sammat had no right to receive me, but that Ghattas had the sole responsibility of my weal and woe, and must answer, at the peril of his head, for any misfortune that might befall me while I was under the tutelage of Aboo Sammat. The distorted character of their logic was manifest as soon as the evidence was shown that Ghattas was under obligations to me and not I to him.

PASSAGE OF THE TONDY.

After I had made all my arrangements to store the collections which had accumulated since my last despatch, I prepared to quit my bountiful quarters and to start by way of Koolongo over the desolation of the wilderness towards the south. The baggage which I found it necessary to take, I limited to thirty-six packages. The Nubian servants, three slaves, and the interpreter, composed my own retinue, but Aboo Sammat’s entire caravan, counting bearers and soldiers, consisted altogether of about 250 men. I myself joined the main body at Kulongo, where preparations had just been completed for the passage of the Tondy, which was then at high flood.

The regular progress began on the 17th of November. A march of an hour brought us to the low plain of the Tondy, where four Bongo bearers were ready for me with a kind of bedstead, on which I reclined at my ease as they conveyed me upon their shoulders above the many places which were marshy or choked with rushes, till they reached the ferry that Aboo Sammat had arranged. This ferry consisted of a great raft of straw upon which the packages were laid in separate lots, and to which most of the bearers clung while it was towed across by a number of swimmers who were accustomed to the stream. The Nubians floundered like fish in the strong current, and had some work to do in saving many a “colli,” which, in the unsteadiness of the passage, was thrown out of its equilibrium. The river, by its right bank, was running at the rate of 120 feet a minute and was about 200 feet across. Nearly exhausted as I was by the violence of the stream, when I approached the further side I was grasped hand and foot by a number of the swimmers, who brought me to land as if I had been a drowning man.

Beyond the river the land was less affected by any inundation, and after a few minutes we came to a steep rocky highland which bounded the way to the south. Rising to an elevation of little more than 200 feet, we had a fine open view of the depressed tract of land through which the Tondy meanders. Its windings were marked by reedy banks; the mid-day sun gleamed upon the mirror of various backwaters, and the distance revealed a series of wooded undulations. Tn a thin dark thread, the caravan wound itself at my feet along the green landscape, as I have endeavoured to depict it in the annexed illustration. The height on which we stood was graced by a beautiful grove, where I observed a fresh characteristic of the region, viz., the alder-like Vatica, a tree of no great size, but which now appeared in detached clumps. In the foreground of the picture are represented some of the most charming types of vegetation in the bushwood; on the left is the large-leaved blue-green Anona senegalensis; on the right, the Grewia mollis, a shrub with long twigs that supplies an abundance of bast and string wherever it grows. The little tree of the pine genus is the willow-leaved Boscia, which is a constant inhabitant of the Upper Nile district.

It was getting late in the day before we had assembled our whole troop upon the plateau. Very short, consequently, was our march before we halted for the night. The spot selected for the purpose had formerly been a small Seriba belonging to Ghattas; but in consequence of the Bongo who had settled there having all deserted, and of the difficulty of maintaining any intercourse with other Seribas during the rainy season, it had been abandoned. It was a district of utter desolation, far away from any other settlements.

THE DEPRESSION OF THE TONDY.

DOGGOROO RIVER.

A brook, which in July and August becomes swollen to a considerable stream, flowed past our quarters for the night, and joined the Tondy at the distance of a few leagues. To this rivulet, which has its source in the Madi country, in lat. 5° 10´ N., the Bongo give the name of the Doggoroo, whilst it is known as the Lehssy in the districts which divide the territories of the Bongo from the Niam-niam. Up the stream we followed its course for two hours, keeping along the edge of a pleasant park-like country, till we arrived at some thickets, which we had to penetrate in order to reach the banks of the stream. Sluggish here was the water’s pace; its breadth was about thirty feet, and it was sufficiently shallow to be waded through, scarcely rising above our hips; on our return in the following year the passage involved us in considerable difficulty. Beyond the Doggoroo the ground made a gradual but decided rise, and for more than forty miles the ascent was continuous. It was the first elevation of the ground of any importance which I had yet seen anywhere south of the Gazelle; for here was a broad offshoot of the southern highlands, which, according to the statements of the natives, serve as a watershed for the coalescing streams of the Tondy and the Dyau (Roah).

After we had proceeded in a south-easterly direction till we had accomplished about a third of our journey to Sabby, the Seriba of Mohammed Aboo Sammat, we had at no great distance the territory of the Dinka upon our left. The adjacent clan is called the Goak, and a large number of the Bongo have taken refuge amongst them to escape the aggressions and stern oppression of the Nubians. The Dinka, for their part, impressed the strange intruders with such awe that, since Malzac (the well-known French adventurer, who for several years took up his quarters on the Rohl), no one has repeated the attempt to establish a settlement in their district. It is simply their wealth in cattle that is a temptation to occasional raids, which are studiously accomplished as far as possible without bloodshed. On the last stage between the Tondy and the Doggoroo we repeatedly came across the traces of elephants; but the trenches which had been designed to catch them had not as yet been a success. Elephants seem to prefer to make their way along the narrow paths which have been already trodden by the foot of man through the high grass, notwithstanding that they are not sufficiently broad to admit a quarter of their huge bodies.

After the rains are over and the steppe-burning accomplished, the landscape reminded me very much of the late autumn-time of our own latitudes. Many trees were entirely destitute of foliage; the ground beneath them being strewn with yellow leaves or covered with pale sere grass as far as the conflagration had spared it. One charming tree, a kind of Humboldtia, was conspicuous amidst the shadowy groves. It has seed-vessels a foot long, the seed itself being as large as a dollar, whilst its magnificent leaf is a beautiful ornament to the wood scenery wherever it abounds. The gay colours of the young shoots, sprouting directly from the root, crimson, purple, brown, or yellow, contribute in a large degree to this effective display. The foliage generally is so light that it was quite easy to penetrate into these woods, which constantly and agreeably relieved the barren aspect of the region.

THE WATERBOCK.

A considerable number of antelopes from various quarters had been killed by the hour in which we encamped for the night in a forest glade. These antelopes belonged to the Waterbocks (A. ellipsiprymna), of which the head is very remarkable, on account of the large excrescences which obtrude from the side of the nostrils, in the same way as in the wild buffalo. It has a fine sweeping pair of horns, which crown its brow. The hair of this species of Waterbock is extremely long and soft, and its skin is a very favourite decoration of the Niam-niam. There is but little difficulty in getting an aim at this animal, as its white haunches soon betray it amid the gloom of the forest, where it is more frequently found either quite solitary or in very small groups. I very much relished the tender flesh of the kids, although it was somewhat deficient in fat.

The Central African Waterbock.
(Antilope ellipsiprymna.)

When morning dawned the only remnant of our supper was a pile of crushed bones; for neither skin nor gristle had been spared by the greedy negroes. The beast of prey disdains what a voracious man will devour; the beast rejects what is tough, and gnaws only about the soft and supple joints, whilst man in his gluttony roasts the very skin, splits the bones, and swallows the marrow. Splintered bones, therefore, here in the lines of traffic, just as they do in the caverns of antiquity, afford a distinctive evidence of the existence of men, whilst bones that have been gnawed only attest the presence of lions, hyænas, jackals, and the like.

Few there are who have not read of the glory of the southern heavens; rare is the traveller in the tropics who has not revelled in the splendid aspect of the great arch above when illumined by the shining of the moon. After a long hot march it may indeed happen that the traveller is far too weary and worn-out to be capable of appreciating the charm of any such beauties; in passive indifference, stretched upon his back, he turns a listless eye unconcerned upwards to the sky, till sleep overpowers him; and thus unconsciously he loses the highest of poetic ecstacies. Soon the heaven bedecks itself with countless numbers of fleecy clouds, which separate as flakes of melting ice, and stand apart: the deep black firmament fills up the intervals, and gives a richer lustre to the stars; then, circled by a rosy halo, rises the gentle moon, and casts her silver beams upon the latest straggler.

Meanwhile, far in the lonely wood, there has arisen, as it were, the tumult of a market; the gossip of the chatterers is interrupted now and then by the authoritative word of command of some superior officer, while many a camp-fire is kindled and illuminates the distant scene. To protect himself against the chilly air of night, each separate bearer takes what pains he can, using what ashes he can get for his covering. Wreaths of smoke hover over the encampment, a sense of burning oppresses the eyes and makes sleep all but impossible, and thus the attention is ever and again arrested by the moving orbs in the heavens above. To the traveller it well might seem as if the curtain of a theatre had been raised, and revealed a picture of the infernal world where hundreds of black devils were roasting at as many flames. Such were my nightly experiences as often as I journeyed with a large number of bearers.

SHEREEFEE.

About noon on the third day, after marching about sixteen leagues from Kulongo, we arrived at Duggoo, the chief Seriba of Shereefee, who maintained some small settlements in this remote wilderness. Notwithstanding the almost unlimited scope with regard to space, he was on the bitterest terms of hostility with Aboo Sammat, his neighbour in the south. A regular mediæval feud had broken out between them, the nominal cause of the quarrel being that one of Shereefee’s female slaves had been maltreated, and, having taken refuge with Aboo Sammat, had not been restored; but the interchange of cuffs and blows had been the actual ground of the discord. When two months previously Aboo Sammat was despatching his ivory-produce of the year, consisting of about 300 packages, to the Meshera, it was seized by the negroes as it was being conveyed across Shereefee’s district. These negroes attacked the defenceless bearers and massacred several of them; others they wounded with arrows and lances, till the whole caravan was overpowered, and every one throwing down his valuable burden made a precipitate flight. The Khartoom soldiers belonging to Aboo Sammat looked quietly on throughout the fray, for no attachment to their master would have induced them to fire a shot against any of their brethren.

Aboo Sammat, with all his property, was now in the desert, 150 miles away from the boats. To enter into action against Shereefee he hastened to the west, and induced a number of the controllers of Seribas to repair to the scene of violence, and to insist upon judgment being passed at Khartoom. But to accomplish this purpose he had to travel hundreds of miles in a few weeks, during the rains, and before his task was completed the proper time for shipment had elapsed, the high waters had abated, and all his goods had to remain at the Meshera to await another season, exposed all along to the too probable attacks of the hostile Dinka. Aboo Sammat, so far from taking the law into his own hands, had proceeded in the most legitimate way to demand compensation; but Shereefee, not satisfied with the wrong he had already perpetrated, spurred on his negroes to make repeated incursions upon his rival’s territory. Sometimes he endeavoured to entice Aboo Sammat’s Bongo people to desert, and sometimes sent his own to commit all manner of outrage and depredation. Many of the poor natives, the shuttlecocks of the fray, lost their lives in the contention; and I enriched my collection of skulls by some splendid specimens which I picked up on my way. “This was the spot,” said Aboo to me, “where the thieves made their attack. You have seen for yourself, and should speak up for me.”

Approaching the neighbourhood of the hostile Seriba we made a halt in the open country, about half a league away. To put a good face on the matter, and to make an impression upon Shereefee’s people, everybody put on their best clothes, and Aboo Sammat’s soldiers came out in all the gay colours of the fresh chintz which had just been acquired from the stores of the Meshera. The Turkish cut of these garments contributed in no small degree to the self-confidence of the men, and the Kenoosian could fairly pride himself upon having a troop who, not merely in externals, but in general discipline, were far superior to the disorderly bands which, in dirty rags, were quartered at the other Seribas. Every precaution was taken to guard against a sudden attack, and patrols were sent out to protect the flanks of our extended line. Ambushed in the thickets some armed Bongo were actually seen, but these outlying sentinels as soon as they observed there was a white man in the caravan, having heard of my presence in the country, abstained from any exhibition of hostility. Thus unmolested we drew close up to the Seriba, and Mohammed’s party bivouacked out in the open country. Meanwhile I was received in the most friendly manner by Shereefee’s brother, who was here in charge, and there was no disposition to act towards a Frank in any way that might involve difficulty at Khartoom. But I could not help thinking how narrowly all my baggage might be escaping attack, and what a hopeless attempt it might be to recover it.

DUGGOO.

The whole district, as I have mentioned, had been gradually rising in terraces all the way from the Tondy; and only just before we reached the Seriba, which was named Duggoo, after the superintendent of the place, had we marched continuously up-hill for half a league; no flowing water had hitherto been observed. On the south-west and south-east were visible the highlands in the distance, whilst in front of them were elevations of from 100 to 200 feet above the level of the adjacent vale. One of these elevations was very close to Duggoo in the north-east, whence from a bamboo jungle there streamed in the rainy season a brook which fell into the Dyan. The recesses and caverns in the red iron-stone reminded me of the great grotto at Kulongo, with its swarms of fluttering bats (Phyllorhinus caffra) and vast accumulation of guano.

The wide stretch of country between the Tondy and the Dyoor, extending some seventy miles, had but three years since been a populous district with many huts; now, however, it had only a few scattered habitations of the Bongo, which were grouped in the vicinity of either Aboo Sammat’s or Shereefee’s Seribas. Since the Bongo have been expelled by the Dinka, nothing but elephants and antelopes have found their pasture in those wild plains, which have once been cultivated. Occasionally the ruins of the burnt villages were still extant, rising above the rank grass. Nothing survived as direct evidence of the habitation of men; what scanty remnants of dwelling-places the first conflagration of the steppes had spared, either the ants or natural decay had soon destroyed. The only remaining vestiges of the occupation of the land are due to the richness of vegetation, and this has left its characteristic traces. I could specify some fifty or sixty plants which correspond so accurately with the weeds of other cultivated countries that they are significant tokens of a former presence of men. The preponderating Indian origin of all these plants is very observable, and a better acquaintance with the geographical facts connected with them would probably be as trustworthy an indication of the various migrations of an uncivilized people who have no history as either their dialect or their physical development.

Five leagues away from Duggoo we arrived at Dogguddoo, the second Seriba of Shereefee, where he was then resident. Many a slough and many a marsh had we to traverse on our progress, the result of the rain which had been falling for months. Midway we paused for a rest beside the relics of a great Bongo village, where stood the ruins of a large fence of the same description as is seen around the present Seribas. In the very centre of the village had stood, as is commonly found, an exceedingly fine fig-tree (F. lutea), and there were besides, a large number of tombs constructed of blocks of stone and ornamented with strangely-carved posts; at some little distance was a number of handmills that had been left behind, destined for some years to come to be a memorial of the past. The spot, named after the previous governor, was called Pogao. Shortly afterwards we arrived at a charming little brook, known as the Mattyoo, which, under the shadow of a pleasant copse-wood, went babbling over its red rocky bed, making little cascades and rapids as it streamed along.

In consequence of the repeated burnings of the steppes, well-nigh all vegetation was now blighted and impoverished: in particular the higher districts presented an appearance of wretched desolation. Repeatedly, in the winter landscape of the tropics, there are seen trees standing in full foliage in the very midst of their dismantled neighbours; and the loss of leaf would seem to be hardly so much an unconditional consequence of the time of year as a collateral effect of locality or condition of the soil.

After having for months together explored every thicket, and day after day penetrated into the high grass on the river-banks, I could not suppress my astonishmant at the absence of every description of snakes. The Khartoomers suggest an explanation of this circumstance which I am not disinclined to accept; they conjecture that in this stony region there is a deficiency of that rich black soil which splits like a glacier in the dry season, and makes riding in the North-Eastern Soudan a very dangerous proceeding; and, consequently, that there is neither a way for snakes to escape from the fires of the blazing steppes, nor any of those lurking-places which are indispensable for their resort.

STEPPE-BURNING.

Incalculable in its effect upon the vegetation of Central Africa must be the influence of the annual steppe-burning, which is favoured by the dryness of the seasons. The ordinary soil becomes replaced by charcoal and ashes, which the rain, when it returns, as well as the wind, sweeps right away into the valleys. The rock is, for the most part, a very friable and weather-worn ironstone, and upon this alone has everything that grows to make good its footing. The distinction, therefore, as might be imagined, is very marked between vegetation under such conditions, and vegetation as it displays itself by the banks of rivers, where the abundant grass resists the progress of the fire, and where, moreover, a rich mould is formed by the decay of withered leaves. But even more than the impregnation of the soil with alkalies, does the violence of flames act upon the configuration of plants in general. Trees with immense stems, taking fire at the parts where they are lifeless through age, will die entirely; and, where the grass is exceptionally heavy, the fresh after-growth will perish at the roots, or in other places will be either crippled or stunted. Hence arises the want of those richly-foliaged and erect-stemmed specimens which are the pride of our own forests; hence the scarcity of trees, which are either old or well developed; and hence, too, the abnormal irregularity of form which is witnessed at the base of so many a stem and at the projection of so many a shoot.

Flowing without intermission, all through the year, close by Dugguddoo, there is a brook which the Bongo have named the Tomburoo. Its water hurries on at the rate of 170 feet per minute, its depth hardly ever exceeds three feet, while its breadth varies from 20 feet to 50. Its banks, about four feet high, were bounded by land subject to inundations corresponding to the measurement of the stream. At a league’s distance to the east, the general elevation of the soil began afresh. The environs of the Seriba of Shereefee were only scantily cultivated, as the Nubians and the Bongo lived by preference on the produce of the plundering forages which they were accustomed to make amongst the adjacent Dinka tribes, the Ayell and the Faryahl, towards the north.

Exposing itself far and wide, there was the naked rock, the barrenness of which was only interrupted at intervals by a scanty covering of human bones! Carried off in groups, the captured slaves here succumbed to the overwrought exertions of their march. At times they died literally of starvation, as often there was no corn to be had in the barren land. The overland dealers in slaves make their purchases here at the most advantageous prices. In these eastern Seribas, as the result of the perpetual raids upon the Dinka, there is always a superabundance of the living black merchandise on hand, but very rarely is there an adequate supply of food for their maintenance. The traders proceed from Seriba to Seriba with their gangs, which they maintain on whatever provisions they can get on the way. Where destitution is an ordinary phase of things, it is self-evident that the traffickers, having no resources to support a lengthened journey, must, day after day, suffer considerable loss, and it is no unwonted thing for their gangs to melt away by a dozen at a time. Burnt bones of men and charred palisades of huts are too true an evidence of the halting-places of Mohammedanism, and, day by day, more and more was my imagination shocked by these horrid spectacles. In the very Seriba there was even awaiting me afresh the miserable sight, to which no force of habit could accustom me, of a number of helpless children, perfect little pictures of distress and wretchedness, either orphans or deserted by their mothers, and who dragged on a pitiable existence, half-starved, burnt by falling into the fire in their sleep, or covered with loathsome sores.

LAND-SNAILS.

Turning short off, almost at a right angle to our previous direction, our way beyond Duggoroo, after seven leagues, over a country well-wooded and rich in game, led us to the borders of Aboo Sammat’s territory. Once again the land began to rise, and appeared to be all but barren in water-courses of any kind. As we went along I picked up, in a state of perfect preservation, several of the bleached skulls of some of Aboo Sammat’s bearers, who, wounded in the murderous attack by Shereefee’s people, had never been able to regain their homes. In a bag, which one of my attendants constantly carried, I had a collection made of a number of the great land-snails which, after the termination of the rains, abounded in this region. The two kinds which appeared most common were Limnicolaria nilotica and L. flammea; of these, the former is rather more than four inches in length, the latter rather more than three. They invade the bushes and shrubs, and have a great partiality for the tender leaves of the numerous varieties of wild vine. They serve as food for a number of birds, the Centropus monachus, the cuckoo of the climate, in particular having a keen relish for them. Their shells are as thin as paper, a circumstance which, like the brittleness in the egg-shells of hens, testifies to the deficiency of chalk in the soil. I was in need of soap, and the chief object which I had in taking the trouble to collect these shells was to obtain what cretaceous matter I could, to enable me to make a supply, no other method of getting it occurring to my mind. At night we rested at a poor Seriba called Matwoly, where we were received in some dilapidated huts, as the place, together with all its Bongo adjuncts, for greater security against the attacks of Shereefee, was about to be abandoned.

The wearisome monotony of the woods, now generally stripped of their foliage, was enlivened by the fresh green of the Combretum, which here long anticipates every other tree in putting forth its tender buds. Gaily it stands apart from the uniform grey and brown of the surrounding forest, thrown into yet higher relief by the yellow of the mass of withered grass below, and showing itself brightly from the half-shaded gloom of the wood beyond.

Although I had now advanced an entire degree nearer to the Equator, being now in a latitude of 6° 20´ N., I still found that the landscape around had charms to offer which were not inferior to the winter beauties of the distant north. In the early morning I delighted to see the rimy dew that had fallen on the sprouting grass, and which frequently remained as late as nine o’clock; over the feathery Pennisetum and the Agrostideæ it fell like a white veil, and the bright drops sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine. The slender gossamer, moreover, which stretched itself over the deeps and shallows of the soil, and even over the footprints in the ground, appeared to operate as a conductor of the dew, which congealed till it was like a film of ice which crackles beneath the tread of a traveller in the autumn.

GREAT ANT-HILLS.

Distant four and a half leagues to the south lay Aboo Sammat’s head Seriba, known as Sabby, the name of its Bongo chief. Half-way upon our march we crossed a considerable stream, which was called the Koddy. As we forded its breadth of twenty feet, we found the water rising above our hips. Here again the candelabra-euphorbia seemed to be abundant, after having never been seen since I left the eastern bank of the river Dyoor. An essential feature of the district between the Dyoor and the Kohl is contributed by the small mushroom-shaped ant-hills which, found as they are in many a part of Tropical Africa, here cover the stony surface with their peculiar shapes. Formed exactly like the common mushroom, the separate erections of the Termes mordax are grouped in little colonies. The main difference between the tenements of these ants and those which construct conical domes as tall as a man, consists in this, that they have a definite altitude, which rarely exceeds thirty inches, and immediately that there is no further space they raise new turrets and form fresh colonies. The materials, too, of which this species of Termes constructs its edifice is neither grey nor of a ferruginous red, but is simply the alluvial clay of the place: it is so closely cemented together, that it defies the most violent kicking to displace it, and is hardly less solid than brickwork. The natives are very glad to employ it for the construction of their huts; they break it into fragments with their clubs, and moisten it till its substance yields. By the Bongo it is called Kiddillikoo.

Mushroom-shaped white-ant hills.

The red ferruginous clay is the only material out of which the great ants (Termes bellicosus) construct their buildings. These are seldom found elsewhere than in a wood, where the pointed shapes are never seen. The neighbourhood of Sabby especially abounded in these monuments of animal labour, and not a few of them were fifteen feet in height. In altitude greater than in breadth, they reared themselves like a large cupola surrounded by countless pillars and projecting towers. At the first commencement of the building it embraces only some isolated domes, which gradually are combined into one single cluster, whilst the ramifications of the interior have entirely to be reconstructed. When we reflect that the dimensions of the bodies of these toiling ants (the female neuters) are not one thousandth part so great as the structure that they upheave, we cannot refrain from comparing their edifices with the most extensive cities which human hands have reared. During my previous journey, I had found several opportunities of investigating the secret habits of these wondrous creatures. The life of the traveller in Africa is one continual conflict against their aggressions. Once at the missionary station in Gallabat, for seven days did the people work away with crowbars to remove one of these erections, which had been accumulated in the middle of the courtyard, and which was not only an impediment in the way, but was a nuisance to the adjacent huts. At length they penetrated to the royal chamber, and dragged forth the queen to the daylight, from which she had carefully excluded her subjects.

All the ant-hills of which I was able to make a survey were constructed upon the double-chamber system, the maze of cells being divided apparently into two separate storeys. Adequately to describe the marvellous interior of one of these haunts of the community would require a volume of itself. No labyrinth of coral could be more intricate; its walls are curiously cemented together, its chambers are most carefully arranged and most amply stored with vegetable produce, and there are magazines which teem with cakes and loaves. A regular series of bridges conducts from place to place, and many a crossway traverses the pile. To detail the wonders of these erections would tax the patience of the reader, and the study of a life-time would not exhaust the marvellous perfection of the organization which they present.

ABOO SAMMAT’S HEAD SERIBA.

As might be conjectured, there is no want amongst these woods of ant-hills such as these, which have ceased to be occupied, and which consequently have been adopted as lurking-places by various kinds of animals that shun the light and lead a troglodite existence. Here skulks the aardvark or earth-pig (Orycteropus); here gropes the African armadillo (Manis); hither resort wild boars of many a breed; here may be tracked the porcupines, the honey-weasel, or ratel; here go the zebra-ichneumons and the rank civet-cats; whilst here, perchance, may be found what in this land is rare, an occasional hyæna.

Thus, after seven days’ journeying over a country all but uninhabited, on the 23rd of November I found myself at the head Seriba of my friend and protector, who received me with true Oriental hospitality. First of all, he had newly-erected for my use three pleasant huts, enclosed in their own fence; his thoughtfulness had gone so far that he had provided me with several chairs and tables; he had sent to a Seriba, eight days’ journey distant, to obtain some cows, that I might enjoy new milk every day; and, in short, he had taken the utmost pains to insure me the best and amplest provisions that the locality could supply. My attendants, too, who, together with their slaves, made up a party of thirteen, were entertained as freely as myself: everything contributed to keep them in good mood, and they were delighted jointly and severally to throw in their lot with mine.

The natives, when they saw not only their own superior, but the governors of other Seribas, treat me with such consideration, providing me with a palanquin for every brook, came to the conclusion that I was a magnate, and said to each other, “This white man is a lord over all the Turks”—​Turks being the name by which the Nubians here wish to be known, although before a genuine Osmanli they would not have ventured to take such a title. As Aboo Sammat used jocosely to remark, they were accustomed at home to carry mud, but here they carried a gun instead. It was a matter of congratulation to myself that the people already had arrived at some apprehension of the superiority of an European. It set me at my ease to observe that I had nothing to fear as to being mistaken by the natives for one of the same stock as the Nubian menials. Equally advantageous to me was it that the same impression prevailed amongst the Niam-niam and the distant Monbuttoo, to whose territories I was approaching, and accordingly I entered upon my wanderings under what must be considered favourable auspices.

Situated in a depression between undulating hills which stretch from south-west to north-east, the settlement of Aboo Sammat was surrounded by numerous Bongo villages and fields. Here he centred an authority over his Bongo and Mittoo territories which stretched away for no less than sixty miles. The residence of Aboo himself was about a league away, where he kept his harem in retirement, his elder brother having the charge of the principal Seriba. After I had settled myself as conveniently as I could, I began afresh my accustomed rambles, so that, in the same way as I had done in Ghatta’s Seriba, I might familiarise myself with all the environs.

At this period, when vegetation was at a stand-still, the flora presented little novelty, and whatever I found corresponded very much with what I had already seen in the district between the Tondy and the Dyoor. The woody places around Sabby were generally somewhat thicker; there was neither the same expanse of low steppe-country, nor the same frequent interruption of woods by grassy plains. Corresponding to this density of growth of the forests there was a greater variety in the fauna.

ARRIVAL IN SABBY.

Meanwhile, amidst my investigations, I did not lose sight of my projected journey to the Niam-niam, and continually made what preparation I could. I criticised very diligently the muscles and measurements of the people, and very materially enlarged my vocabulary. Although I was only half-way towards the country of the Niam-niam, I found myself brought into connection with a considerably large number of them, and subsequently I was enabled in a degree to master their dialect. The report of the feud between Mohammed Aboo Sammat and Shereefee had extended to Mohammed’s outlying Seriba in the Niam-niam country, and had grown into a rumour that all his people had been exterminated by Shereefee’s agents. For the purpose of obtaining more reliable information the manager of the Seriba, ninety miles away, had sent ten young men to Sabby, and their strange appearance very much surprised me. Everything which I had hitherto seen of the people served to strengthen my conviction that they were marked off from the other population of Africa by a distinct nationality of their own. Even the Bongo seemed here to arouse my interest more than at Ghattas’s Seriba, where, on account of their longer period of subjection, they had gradually lost very many habits and peculiarities of their race. I spent accordingly a good deal of my leisure in making sketches of their dwellings and their furniture, and in my numerous excursions round the villages, I persisted in investigating everything, however immaterial it might seem, as though I were examining the vestiges of the prehistoric life of a palisaded colony.

The three slaves who accompanied me were now indispensable as interpreters. Apart from them I could have prevailed very little in overcoming the shyness and mistrust towards strangers which the natives continually exhibited: an exterior survey did not satisfy me, and I persevered till I gained admittance to the inside of several of the huts, so that I could institute a regular domestic investigation. Every corner was explored, and by this means many a strange implement was brought to light, and many an unexpected discovery revealed.

The granaries of the Bongo were now quite full, as the harvest was just over: all was consequently mirth and riot in the district, and many a night’s rest did I find disturbed by the noisy orgies which re-echoed from the shadowy woods. At full blast for hours together were the long wooden trumpets, the loud signal-horns, the huge trombones, and those immense drums for the construction of which the strongest timber has been selected from the forests. The powers of shrieking were put forth to the uttermost. Like the rolling of the breakers of an angry sea, the noise rose and fell: alternate screechings and howlings reached my ears, and hundreds of men and women seemed to be trying which could scream the loudest. Incapable of closing an eye for sleep while such infernal outcry was around, I went several times to inspect the frantic scene of merriment. Nights when the moon was bright were those most frequently selected for the boisterous revelry; the excuse alleged being that the mosquitoes would not let them rest, and therefore it was necessary to dance; but in truth, there was no nuisance of flies here worth consideration: I was not annoyed to anything like the same extent as upon my backward journey on the White Nile.

ORGIES OF THE NIGHT.

The following may be submitted as something like an ordinary programme of these soirées musicales. Slowly and mournfully some decrepit old man, or toothless old woman, begins with broken voice to babble out a doleful recitative; ere long first one and then another will put in an appearance from the surrounding huts, and point with the forefinger at the original performer, as if to say that this is all his fault, when suddenly, all together, they burst forth in universal chorus, taking up the measure, which they work into a wondrous fugue. At a given signal the voices rise in a piercing shriek, and then ensues a series of incredible contortions; they jump, they dance, and roll themselves about as though they had bodies of indian-rubber; they swing themselves as if they were propelled with the regularity of machines; it would almost seem as if their energy were inexhaustible, and as if they would blow their trumpets till their lungs gave way, and hammer at their drums till their fists were paralyzed. All at once everything is hushed; simultaneously they make a pause; but it is only to fetch their breath and recover their strength, and once more the tumult breaks out intense as ever. The license of their revelry is of so gross a character that the representation of one of my interpreters must needs be suppressed. It made a common market-woman droop her eyes and called up a blush even to a poor sapper’s cheek. Many of the people had iron rings about their ankles with balls attached, and these they rattled with such violence that their feet were bathed with blood.

Go where I might, I found nothing but lamentation over the impoverishment and desolation of the land, yet those who complained were themselves responsible for its comfortless aspect. Whilst, through the migration of the people, the country towards the north during the last three years had been changed into a wilderness, the Bongo, who clung to their homes and remained on their settlements, had not only lost their former wealth in sheep, goats, and poultry, but had even been too much driven to extremities to continue their cultivation of corn, and were sufferers from what was little short of famine. The Bongo asserted that in the first year that the Khartoomers committed their depredations amongst them, they were so terrified lest all their sheep, and goats, and poultry should be carried off, that, without delay, they had them all killed, cooked, and eaten. Eye-witnesses were not wanting who told me what had been the astonishing quantities of poultry that once had teamed in every village; but when there ceased to be any security for any one to retain what he had, of course there ceased to be any interest in making a store. If the harvest were prolific so that the granaries were full, the settlers would revel in indulgence as long as their resources held out; but for the greater portion of the year they had to depend upon the produce of the woods and upon the proceeds of the chase, which had often no better game to yield than cats, lizards, and field-rats. Not that there was any actual fear of starvation, because the supply of edible tubers and of wild fruits from the extensive woods was inexhaustible and not ill-adapted to a negro’s digestion, and because there was an abundance of the seed of wild grasses to be collected, which replaced the scarcity of corn.

In productiveness the land around Sabby was not inferior to the environs of Ghattas’s Seriba. The ears of sorghum here, as frequently as there, reached to a weight of six pounds; but at the same time the level tracts under cultivation were far less extensive, and in all the rocky places could only produce a smaller yield. The natives, however, never ventured to bring any of their grain to market, as I had been accustomed to see them: whatever anyone possessed, he cautiously kept out of the sight of the stranger. From all regular and systematic agriculture, the natives were as a rule debarred, because in the course of the year nearly every able-bodied man was compelled to go and do duty as a bearer, and consequently for months together was a stranger to his homestead, whilst he either plodded backwards and forwards to the Meshera, or was engaged upon the Niam-niam expeditions. Of copper, beads, and knick-knacks of every sort they managed to increase their store, but in agriculture they decidedly were retrograding. It was with them precisely as with their oppressors from afar: just as in Nubia, there was a destiny of evil being fulfilled upon the land, so here was the spectacle of a region degenerating from prosperity into neglect and woe.

GOAT-SUCKERS.

Repeatedly in the evening hours I watched the ghost-like fluttering of a long feathered goat-sucker of the species Cosmetornis Spekii Sclater, observed by Speke[37] in Uganda, and which was to be recognized by the astonishing elongation of the seventh and eighth wing-quills, the latter of which reaches over twenty inches in length. There was a second species of this genus, of which the male had the same kind of prolonged shaft-feathers expanded at the end and fluttering in the air like a peacock’s tail. This was the Macrodypterix longipennis, a remarkable bird which the Arabs call the “father of four wings,” because, as it chases the mice, it looks as though it had a couple of satellites in attendance. Both these make their earliest appearance about a quarter of an hour after sunset and as the twilight passes rapidly into thorough night; I had, therefore, only scanty opportunities of sending what were at best only stray shots to bring them down. For the purpose of catching insects they generally wheeled in circles at no great distance from the ground, but as the range of their flight was very circumscribed and its rapidity extremely great, it was somewhat difficult to get a good aim. However, as the practice was repeated daily, I succeeded in securing a considerable number of Speke’s interesting Cosmetornis. I should mention that while I had been in Ghattas’s Seriba, sport of this kind had very frequently been an evening recreation. The antipathy of this aëronaut of the dusky evening to the clear light of day, seemed very remarkable: it kept itself to the seclusion of the low bushwoods, and when roused up would disappear again at the first ray of light; often it would settle itself on the ground in a pile of leaves to which its own hue corresponded, and it might then almost be trodden upon before it could be stirred into flight.

During the incessant excursions which I kept making round Sabby I was able to discriminate not less than twelve distinct species of antelopes, of which I was successful in shooting several. Frequently met with here is the antelope (A. oreas) which is known as the Elend. During the rainy months it gathers in little groups of about half-a-dozen in the drier districts on the heights, but through the winter it is, like all its kindred, confined to the levels by the river-sides. Upon the steppes through which flow the brooklets in the proximity of Sabby the leucotis antelope is the most common of all game, and many is the herd I saw which might be reckoned at a hundred heads. Perhaps nowhere in the whole of North-east Africa would any one have the chance of seeing such numerous herds of antelopes collected together as travellers in the south are accustomed to depict. Assisted by a whole clan of Kaffirs, the Boers on the 24th of August, 1860, had a battue in Honour of the Duke of Edinburgh, of which the result was that between 20,000 and 30,000 antelopes are said to have been enclosed. Of the more circumscribed district of the Nile the parts that are most prolific in game are on the north-west declivity of the Abyssinian highlands, on the Tacazze or Seteet, in the province of Taka: there it is not an unknown circumstance for herds to be found which exceed a total of 400 head, but they do not correspond in the remotest degree with those which are depicted in the published engravings of the South African hunt. Still poorer in numbers of individuals are the antelopes in Central Africa proper, where the uniform diffusion of men encloses smaller wastes than those which can alone provide large lairs for game.

ZEBRA-ICHNEUMON: MUCUNA URENS.

Amongst the numerous smaller beasts of prey to which the regions that I visited gave harbourage, the zebra-ichneumon was to me one of the most interesting. I was very successful in securing living specimens of this widely-scattered species, and could not suppress my astonishment at the facility with which they were domesticated in my dwelling; if ever they get established in a house there is no getting rid of them. It is a saucy creature, and has neither fear to show nor submission to yield to the authority of man. It resembles the wild cat of the steppes in the ease with which it can be accustomed to a home life. I found it exceedingly troublesome on account of the pertinacious curiosity with which it peeped into all my cases and boxes, upset my pots, broke my bottles, with no apparent object but to investigate the contents. To accomplish its aim it made incessant use of its long, taper, snuffling snout as a lever. But the most vexatious art of which the animal was master was the skill it had in scenting out the spots where my hens were accustomed to lay their eggs, and of which it learnt the flavour before I had an opportunity of removing them to a place of safety. It is moreover a tricky little animal; by whisking and wagging its tail it assumes the appearance of fawning and wheedling, but as soon as anyone touches it, he gets a good bite on his finger. When hunted out and followed by dogs, it throws itself down on its back, kicks its legs about, and grins and gnashes with its teeth. To keep clear of being bitten the best way is to pounce upon it by its tail and to let it hang dangling in the air.

One morning there arrived at the Seriba from the far distant boundaries of the Bongo several wild-looking men, armed with bows and arrows. In order to satisfy myself of the effectiveness of their weapons, I set up a mark at a short distance, consisting of an earthen vessel, in front of which I placed a good thick pad of straw, and over all I threw a stout serge coat. Defying all the coverings, the arrow penetrated the coat, made its way through the straw and knocked a hole in the earthenware, which was nearly half-an-inch thick.

A plant there is here which is not very likely to be forgotten by anyone who has made many excursions into the woods: I mean the Mucuna urens. It is a sort of bean, of which the pods are enclosed in a thick rind and the leaves are covered with pungent bristles. These bristles are as brittle as fibres of glass and, broken off by the wind, are dispersed in all directions over the foliage in the forests. No one who explores the thickets can escape being punished by these tiny prickles. The natives, who are naked, go amongst them with the extremest caution. The stinging sensation they cause lasts about ten minutes, but it may be alleviated by washing.

There is a kind of Christ’s Thorn (Zizyphus Baclei) which every December yields an abundance of fruit, consisting of dry mealy berries, which have a very bitter taste. The colour of these is not unlike a chestnut; they are quite unfit for eating, but the Bongo prepare a powder from them which they throw upon the surface of their waters, and it has the effect of stupefying the fish.

In the parched steppe I repeatedly found a huge chafer belonging to the family of the Elateridæ, but unfortunately the specimens which I secured, together with my other collection of insect curiosities, were all destroyed by fire; and I have now no other reminiscences of them beyond the notes I took that they were of a bright brown colour and were but little short of two inches and a half in length.

Of the few larger shrubs which blow in the winter, an Echinops, with splendid purple blossoms as large as one’s hand, left a deep impression on my recollection. They start out of the grass in situations where the woods are not over-dense, and rise to the height of a man. For the sake of the security of what has been styled a “protective resemblance,” the mantis takes up its quarters amidst its boughs. Just as the leaf-frog secretes itself on the young and light green foliage, or the white ptarmigan resorts to the snowy downs of the frozen north, so does the mantis here take up its abode on the tree as purple as itself, and there endeavour to find a world in which it may conceal its singular shape. This part of Africa seemed to produce many species of this remarkable genus. Whenever I saw them I derived fresh confirmation for my belief that they try to adapt their places of resort to the specific colours of their bodies: the result of this is, that they often startle the plant-collector as if they were ghosts, and their strange shape is indeed somewhat suggestive of a harpy. At first sight the heads of the Echinops, on which they settle, look like malformations of the shrub itself, for the insect uncoils its arms, and like a suppliant lifts them to the sky. Every variety in colour seems to belong to the mantis; I have seen them red, yellow, green, and brown; the most remarkable of all was one of the colour of grass, which I found upon the peak of my hut in the Meshera, and which was of the surprising length of ten inches.

LIONS.

Around Sabby the general security was so complete that, quite at my ease and entirely unarmed, I might have ranged the woods if there had been a certain immunity from being attacked by lions; and against this I was compelled to be on my guard as I penetrated the depths of the wilderness to secure the novelties of vegetation, which could not fail to excite my curiosity. Although my vocation constrained me day after day to explore the recesses of the woods more thoroughly, and to make my way through places hitherto inaccessible, yet I never met with any untoward accident. At home I am quite aware that there are some who entertain the idea that every traveller in Central Africa is engaged in perpetual lion-fights, whilst, on the other hand, there are some who make the insinuating inquiry as to whether lions are ever really seen. In a degree both are right—​both are in the avenue of truth. Lions are, in fact, universal, and may be met with anywhere; but their numbers are not absolutely large, but only proportioned to the princely rank they hold in the scale of animal creation. Their appearance is always a proof of the proximity of the larger kinds of game. Corresponding to the line in history, which tells that forty generations of Mamelooks tyrannized over the people of Egypt, might be registered the line in the records of the animal kingdom, which might run that forty lions found subsistence in the land.

It is not to be presumed that every hunting excursion in Africa is associated with adventure. Such is far from the fact, and it would be utterly wearisome for me to recount every frivolous incident of my ordinary hunt in quest of game for the table. Even in Africa a chase may be as insipid as coursing a hare in the environs of Paris. Shooting and hitting are two different things, as are also hitting and killing on the spot. So great is found to be the nervous resistance of the larger and stronger kinds of game in Africa that the sportsman must be prepared to lose at least 70 per cent. of all that he is able to wound; this will arise not merely from his being destitute of dogs to follow the scent, but from his continually finding himself baffled in pursuit by the world of grass and of marshes, through which he is obliged to make his way. When on the march, another obstacle to securing what is shot often arises from the fear of being left behind by the caravan, and the possibility of losing one’s way necessitates a despatch which is unfavourable to success.

WILD BOAR SHOT.

One afternoon the chase after a considerable troop of hartebeests led me deep into the wood. The cunning animals watched my movements very anxiously; by stopping repeatedly they enticed me continually further on into the gloom, and still eluded the chance of giving me a shot. Already had I penetrated so far into the forest that the rays of the sun were totally lost, and everything was wrapped in the obscurity of twilight; I was about to make my way over a depression in the ground, to get nearer to an elevation from which the antelopes were calmly surveying me, when I suddenly stumbled over some huge shapeless object, which seemed to me to be moving. Owing to the obscurity of the place I could not distinguish anything, but I found there was an ant-hill close by, of which I endeavoured to make some use; under the protection of this I made an attempt to get a few steps nearer to the enigmatical creature that lay before me; from behind the mound I cautiously made an investigation, and just at that instant the animal made a lurch, and revealed to me the snout of a huge wild boar, which seemed to cover the whole face like a mask, while a great pair of tusks projected from the bushy bristles of the enormous jaws; the stolid gaze of the brute made it clear that it was not conscious of my being near, but it seemed ready to take a spring upon the first intruder that should disturb it; I approached within the shortest possible distance, and then took aim, and lodged my bullet in the body of the beast. The spectacle that ensued was very singular. The unwieldy creature, contracted like an impaled fly, turned over on to its side, and then, with another contortion, on to its back, where it writhed about and jerked its legs in every direction. Whilst I was patiently abiding my time till the beast should expire, I was taken by surprise as I observed that the hartebeests were within pistol-shot of where I stood, as if they had been spell-bound by the incident which had interposed to rescue them from their pursuer. I was ready anew to take my aim at them. I had, however, only a single-barrelled gun, and no one in attendance to hand me a second. I was just on the point of loading, when, by one of those unlucky chances that will occur, I discovered that in my precipitation I had used all my bullets, and should only waste my labour in following up the pursuit. The wild boar, however, was mine, and I had it brought to my quarters the same evening. I went to bed without partaking of a supper from it, for whenever there is anything to do with the detestable flesh of a wart-hog, I am a regular Mohammedan. Accordingly, I had the greatest satisfaction in handing it over to the hungry negroes.

An incident still more peculiar had occurred to me on a previous occasion when I had gone out to hunt, attended by one of my Nubians, who rode a donkey, of which the supposed office was to carry home whatever might be the produce of my sport. I left my servant and the donkey carefully out of sight in a spot where two rifts in the soil represented what, during the rains, was the course of two connected brooks. Proceeding to the tall grass, I was not long in sighting a small bush-antelope. I took a shot, and could entertain no doubt but that the animal was struck. I saw it scamper across the grass, and was every moment expecting to see it fall, when I heard a sudden bleat of anguish, and it was gone. Forcing my way through the rank grass, I made the closest scrutiny all around the place where, but a few minutes since, I had seen the wounded antelope, but my search was all in vain. I was encumbered in my movements by having to carry a couple of guns; but, knowing that the area of the ground was bounded by the two rifts that enclosed it, I felt certain that my search would not be without success. At length I discovered the antelope almost at my feet, but it was fixed immovably; it was fastened to the ground by what seemed to me at first the filthy skirt of one of the negroes. Looking more closely, however, I soon saw that the creature had been seized by an immense serpent, that had wound itself three times round its body, leaving its head projecting and drawn down so as well nigh to touch the tail I retreated far enough to take an effectual aim, and fired. The huge python immediately reared itself bolt upright, and made a dash in my direction, but it was able only to erect its head; the hinder parts lay trailing on the ground, because the vertebral connection was destroyed. Seeing the state of things, I loaded and fired repeatedly, taking my aim almost at random, for the evolutions of a snake are as difficult to follow as the flight of the goat-sucker. I had on other occasions proved that a snake may be killed by one ordinary load of shot, if this at once breaks the vertebral column. I now completed my capture; the return to my quarters was made in triumph; the double booty formed a double burden, the snake on one side of the donkey and the antelope on the other, balancing each other admirably.

FOOTNOTES:

[36] The phenomenon here depicted is closely allied to those tinted halos which are seen in so much diversity and under so many modifications around both sun and moon. In Schumacher’s ‘Astronomische Jahrbücher’ (Altona, 1823) Fraunhofer has detailed the theory of these halos, and has proved his assertions by many examples that had fallen under his own observation. Whenever the sun or the moon is surrounded by a halo, the sky is ordinarily veiled in light vapours. If the phenomenon is perfect, the rings of this halo are seen to be of the colours of the rainbow. Fraunhofer divides these halos into two classes: viz., halos of a small and halos of a large diameter. If the red tint is outside and away from the luminous body, as in the present case, he calls it a halo of the smaller kind; but if the red is inside and next to the luminous body, it is a halo of the larger kind. This latter case is closely allied to the phenomenon of parhelia. The cause of these tinted halos is to be found in a diffraction of light through globules of vapour, and Fraunhofer has given proof that the light, in passing across the edges of these globules, would assume an appearance of diffraction similar to that which would be caused by its passing through minute apertures. For the formation of a tinted circle it is necessary that the globules should be equally diffused and of an equal magnitude. If the globules were very irregular, there would be only a bright glare, because the eye would receive rays of various colours from one and the same spot in the atmosphere; then the result would be that the light would be white, as in the case under our notice it appeared directly round the outline of the cloud, and also beyond the outside ring of red, so that the coloured circle was bounded on each side by a rim of white light. The smaller the globules of vapour, the larger are the tinted rings, for according to the theory the diameters of the rings are in inverse ratio to those of the globules. According to another theory represented by Galle (Poggendorf’s ‘Annalen,’ vol. xlix.), one cause of these tinted halos is the presence in the atmosphere of ice-crystals of microscopic minuteness; but this hypothesis seems confuted by the fact that similar phenomena have frequently been witnessed within the tropics (Alex. von Humboldt, Voyage II., p. 309). This phenomena of the 18th of May, 1869, was remarkable for the form of the tinted circle, which corresponded exactly with the accidental outline of the clouds, which presented a threefold curve, thus

. Thus the entire rim of the cloud became a series of luminous sunlight points formed of globules of vapour, making a halo of the smaller class, and sending forth their own shadows.

[37] Vide Speke’s Journal, p. 462.

CHAPTER IX.

Tour through the Mittoo country. Early morning in the wilderness. Soldier carried away by a lion. Dokkuttoo. Fishing in the Roah. Feeding a slave caravan. Ngahma. Dimindoh, the hunter’s Seriba. Wounds from the grass. Dangadduloo. Entertainment in the Seribas. The river Rohl. Reception at Awoory. Footsore. Trial of patience. People of the district. Poncet’s Seriba Mvolo. Mercantile prospects for the Egyptian Government. Fantastic character of landscape. Structure of pile-work. Rock-rabbits. Rock-rabbits’ feet. Nile cataract in miniature. The Tinnea æthiopica. Seriba Karo on the Wohko. Reggo and its breed of dogs. Kurraggera. Aboo Sammat’s festivities. A speech of the Kenoosian. Aboo Sammat and the subjugated chiefs. Deragoh and its mountains. Kuddoo on the Roah. Fear of lions in the forest of Geegyee. Return to Sabby. The Mittoo people. Inferiority of race. Disfiguration of the lips by Mittoo women. Fetters of fashion. Love of music.

I spent December and January in a tour of considerable extent through the adjacent Mittoo country, being desirous of visiting some Seribas recently established by Aboo Sammat, and by means of which he had extended his frontiers far onwards towards the east. I obtained ten bearers for the transport of my baggage, and a Nubian captain of Aboo Sammat’s company was expressly appointed to act as guide and to provide for my accommodation all along the route. I was accompanied likewise by three of my own Khartoom servants.

A short journey to the north-east brought us to Boiko, where, enclosed by a dense forest, was situated Aboo Sammat’s harem. A lady here, the first wife, a daughter of the Niam-niam chief Wando, although she did not permit herself to be seen, was near at hand to do the honours: she was so far civilized that she entertained me with coffee and several Khartoom dishes.

Proceeding eastwards we reached the little river Tudyee, which, flowing past Sabby at a distance of about two leagues to the east, ultimately joins the Roah (the Nam Dyow of the Dinka); at this time of year it is about twenty feet deep, and murmurs along a channel from twenty to thirty feet wide; now and then it forms deep basins, which never fail to be full of fish. We made our first night-camp near a fine tamarind, which will probably for years to come be a landmark as conspicuous as it was at the time of my visit; it was the usual halting-place of all caravans from east to west, and the traces of previous encampments, dilapidated straw-hats, vestiges of fires and fragments of bones bore ample testimony to the fact.

At this season a slight dew was perceptible towards five o’clock in the morning. The nights were calm and, in comparison with the day, were considerably cooler than in summer, when in the interior of the huts there is hardly any difference in temperature to be distinguished. Throughout the day, however, a strong north wind blew incessantly, which towards the afternoon increased almost to a hurricane. There is a peculiar charm in these early morning hours, and no one can wake from his repose in a night-camp in the wilderness without a sense of calm enjoyment of the delights of nature. As soon as the horizon reddens with the dawn the solitude is enlivened by a chorus of ring-doves, here the most frequent of their kind, and by the cackling of guinea-fowl. The traveller is aroused daily by their serenades, and, without much strain upon his imagination, he could almost persuade himself that he has been long resident in the same spot, so familiar does the cooing of the doves become.

CARRIED OFF BY A LION.

As we were preparing to continue our march, some people came to meet us with some dismal intelligence from the neighbouring village of Geegyee. They said that on the previous night a Nubian soldier, who had laid himself down at the door of his hut, about five paces from the thorn hedge, had been seized by a lion, and, before he could raise an alarm had been dragged off no one knew whither. I now learnt, that this district had for some years been infested with lions, and that lately the casualties had been so frequent that the greater part of the inhabitants of Geegyee had migrated in consequence. The entire village would have been transplanted long ago, but the lions had been always found to follow every change of position. At seven o’clock in the morning we reached the ill-omened spot, the poorest of neglected villages, surrounded by woods. A thorn hedge formed its enclosure but nowhere could we discover an entrance. Although the sun was now high, the inhabitants, terrified lest the lions should be near, were still sitting either on the tops of their roofs or on the piles that supported their granaries. Speechless and depressed with fear, my people proceeded on their journey: every one kept his gun in hand, and the bearers, listening anxiously at every rustle that broke the stillness, peered carefully after any traces of the dreaded foe.

After a good day’s march we arrived at Aboo Sammat’s Seriba Dokkuttoo, lying on the extreme east of the frontier of the Bongo; it was about twenty miles from the chief Seriba Sabby, being somewhat further to the south. Half a league before we reached Dokkuttoo we had crossed a considerable, though only periodical stream, called the Mokloio. It was now five feet deep, meandering over a low flat fifty feet wide to join the Roah.

The Roah is a river of about the same size as the Tondy, with which it finally unites itself; it here makes a remarkable bend from south-east to north-east, but its general direction for some distance in this district is due north; the stream flowed between banks twenty or thirty feet in height; its average width was full forty feet, whilst it was only three feet deep; the velocity of the current was one hundred and twenty feet a minute. The grass flat covered by the Roah at the time of its inundation is not so wide as that covered by the Tondy at Koolongo; it measured barely half a league across, and I therefore conclude that this river carries northward a volume of water smaller than the Tondy.

The Bongo were most assiduous in securing the large supplies of fish offered by the Roah. Across the stream in many places was thrown a kind of weir like a chevaux de frise; this they stopped up with bunches of grass and so formed a small dam; over the open places were set creels, and altogether a rich produce rarely failed to be obtained. Some miles up the river, where the banks are shut in by impenetrable reeds, is a favourite resort of hippopotamuses, and it was said that, two years previously, the natives had killed no less than thirty in a single day. The brutes had been driven by the low condition of the water to seek the deeper basins of the river-bed, whence all escape was impossible.

We remained in Dokkuttoo for two days, of which I made the most by excursions in the neighbourhood. A small slave caravan, containing one hundred and fifty girls and children, happened to be passing through the Seriba; it was conducted by traders coming from Ghattas’s and Agahd’s territory in the east. The whole party huddled together for the night in a couple of huts, several old female slaves being entrusted with the supervision of the children. I was a witness of the arrangements for the evening meal, and, contrary to my expectation, found that everything was conducted with much system and regularity. The old Bongo people of the neighbouring villages had brought fifty bowls of dokhn-groats, and as many more containing sauces prepared from sesame-oil, Hyptis-pap, and dried and powdered meat or fish, and other comestibles of gourds and wild Melochia.

FORCED PROVISIONS.

My own entertainment was well provided for, and the agent had an extra bullock slaughtered in order that my little company should not proceed without the supply of meat necessary for the journey. Every mouthful of food that I swallowed in this unhappy country was a reproach to the conscience, but the voice of hunger drowned every higher emotion; even the bread that we ate had been forced from the very poorest in the season of their harvest when their joy, such as it was, was at its height; they probably had neither cow nor goat, and their little children were in peril of dying of starvation and only dragged out a miserable existence by scraping up roots. The meat, in the abundance of which we were revelling, had been stolen from poor savages, who pay almost a divine homage to their beasts, and who answer with their blood for the stubbornness with which they defend their cows, which they hold dearer than wife or child.

Leaving Dokkuttoo, we proceeded for three leagues to the south, passing through the light bushwood that skirted the left bank of the Roah. The woods lay close down to the river as it flowed between its rocky banks. We crossed the stream near some huts, already inhabited by Mittoo, of which the name of the local chief was Degbe. Further south our path again and again crossed wide meadow-flats containing water-basins almost as large as lakes, which, as they had no perceptible current, had every appearance of being ancient beds of the Roah. Several larger kinds of antelopes, water-bucks, and hartebeests appeared, and a herd of thirty leucotis challenged me to a chase. At night, at our bivouac in the forest, we enjoyed in consequence a fine feast of the savoury game. Between the Roah and the Rohl the previous uniformity of the rocks began to be broken by projections of gneiss and by scattered hills. About ten leagues from Ngahma we passed a remarkable spot of this kind, where huge blocks of stone rose in mounds from which colossal obelisks might be hewn. These elevated places alternated with extensive flats level as a table top.

Ngahma was Aboo Sammat’s most important settlement amongst the Mittoo. It lies in a S.S.E. direction from Dokkuttoo and derives its name from the elder of the people, who, with his twenty wives, resides at no great distance; by the natives it is called Mittoo-mor. From Ngahma I turned north-east towards Dimindoh, a small settlement of elephant-hunters belonging to Ghattas’s “Gebel company,” as the people style his establishments on the Bahr-el-Gebel. The district was the highest elevation between the Roah and the Rohl, the country being more diversified by defiles, clefts, and periodic streams than that which I had previously traversed. Dimindoh lay on the further bank of a little river called the Wohko, which, during our march, we had repeatedly to cross. The stream flows over a course of some seventy miles without any perceptible increase in its dimensions, a peculiarity that I have again and again observed in many other small rivers, which seem to flow across wide tracts of country unchanged in their condition by the affluence of any spring or running brook.

An excellent reception awaited me in Dimindoh. The hunting-village had been lately built of straw and bamboo at a large outlay, and there were regular straw palaces, of which the new domes and roofs gleamed with all the golden glory of Ceres. To say the very least, our rest was quite undisturbed by rats, and the idyllic abodes still retained the pleasant aroma of the meadows. I had no cause to complain of the entertainment in any of the smaller Seribas. I was always supplied with milk and with all kinds of meal. The traditional spirit-distillery of Ghattas’s people was here also in full swing, and they brought to me, in gourd-shells, a concoction which was not so utterly bad as that at Gurfala.

TREATMENT OF WOUNDS.

I was, however, much bewildered by the constant solicitations for my medical advice. Amongst other cases they brought me a Nubian, who, on his excursions, had received such cuts from the grass that his feet had completely rotted away, leaving the tendons still hanging. These people have no rational way of treating their wounds, but when there is any inflammation they endeavour to allay it by corn-poultices and hot water, a proceeding which always aggravates the evil. I saw some who had lost several toes, and others who had the most revolting sores on the shins and insteps, and in nearly every case these had arisen from insignificant cuts which, simply from mismanagement, had terminated in disease.

“It is a strange thing,” I said to them, “that the grass is only bad here; it must be something more than that; it is a punishment from God.”

“But God,” they answered, “does not give us such grass in Dongola; this is a bad country.”

“Do you mean to say then,” I replied, “that God is kind in Dongola, and unkind here? No; I tell you, God is Himself punishing you for all your thievery, because there is here no other ruler to look after your misdeeds.”

I felt that I was quite justified in talking in this fashion to a people who, under the cloak of religion, are as unscrupulous rascals as any in the world, and who, misinterpreting the mottoes on their banners which incite them to war against the infidel, consider all plunder perpetrated on defenceless savages as heroic actions bearing them onwards to the palms of Paradise.

The chief Seriba of this eastern section of Ghattas’s establishments lies only a league and a half to the north-east of Dimindoh, and was called Dangadduloo, after a certain Danga, who had been appointed the head of the Mittoo of the district. In 1863 the brothers Poncet of Khartoom had ceded to Ghattas their settlements amongst the Agar, on the Rohl, in order to found fresh establishments in the following year near the cataracts of that river, among the Lehssy. The Agar, as I have already mentioned, had managed to obtain possession of a considerable quantity of firearms and ammunition, and had made themselves so formidable that the Khartoomers had not ventured to rebuild the Seriba that had been destroyed: for that reason, the settlements of Ghattas had receded southwards to the region in which I now found myself. Our road lay often across wide gneiss flats, which not unfrequently exhibited the same uniformity for several hundred yards together. From the surface the stone broke off in smooth laminæ, often as thin as the cover of a book, and afforded me a convenient material for pressing my packets of plants. We had crossed the Wohko for the second time at Dimindoh, where its bed was about fifteen feet deep: its course is generally due north, but here it bends at a right angle to the east, as if seeking the shortest route to join the Rohl. The little river abounds in shells, especially in Anodontæ, which are turned to many domestic uses by the natives, while the massive Etheria Cailliaudii, not unlike the oyster, forms continuous banks in all these minor streams.

In Dangadduloo I found two applicants both eager to obtain the appointment as superintendent of the Seriba. One of these had accompanied the last caravan of supplies from Khartoom, and now was not acknowledged in the Seriba by the soldiers, who reproached him for having acted fraudulently. He was a Copt, and, as far as I know, the first and last Khartoom Christian who ever ventured amongst this set of fanatics. The other agent, named Selim, was a negro over six feet high, and by birth a Dinka; he had the majority of the inhabitants of the Seriba on his side, and lived in continual contention with his rival about the surrender of the stores brought from Khartoom. Both of these men received me with a great show of friendship, and each strove to outdo the other in politeness; they considered that a great deal might depend upon the answer that I should give their master on my return to Khartoom, when he would probably ask my opinion of their respective merits. Each maligned the other, and almost in the same terms; they were both, moreover, throughout the two days which I spent with them more or less in a state of intoxication.

COLD CUP.

Wherever I entered a Seriba there was almost invariably brought to my hut, according to the Soudan fashion of receiving strangers, a cooling draught, consisting of a kind of cold cup called Abrey. It was made in the simplest manner from highly-leavened bread, dried and crumbled into water; its flavour is agreeable, and travellers can hardly say too much in its favour: it is a preparation, however, that can only be made of sorghum bread. In addition to this the people are accustomed, according to patriarchal usage, to bring water to wash the stranger’s feet. When there preliminaries had been gone through, I had then to take my seat upon the “angareb” or couch, which was generally covered with an elegant Persian carpet, and to await the visits that would be made me.

A succession of unknown personages ordinarily came, who made a reverent salaam and then silently and with mysterious air placed before me flasks, calabashes, and gourd-shells containing butter, milk, honey, spirits, merissa—​in short, every delicacy that the country could offer. My people revelled in this abundance, and ever rejoiced at the happy thought which had impelled me to this tour, and that I had brought them from a land threatened with famine into this region of corn and cattle. The fact of a large number of the herds having been stolen, and that the territory was adjacent to the territory that had been plundered, gave rise to the risk of a nocturnal attack by way of reprisal: on this account numerous watches were set every night and the environs were patrolled, but no sooner had the sun gone down than the entire community abandoned themselves to a general intoxication, so that I should never have been astonished if the Dinka had ventured on a surprise, which would have had every likelihood of being crowned with success.

The Mittoo of this district are called Gheree. Southwards and far to the east of the Rohl the general name of Moro is applied to the country, and as tribes of distinct people have settled there, it may no doubt be considered as a true geographical designation of the land itself; it is, however, the only example which came under my notice throughout the entire region of the appellation of the people and the land not being identical.

Favoured by the partial destruction of the high grass by fire, the natives were diligently setting about their great hunt. Battues, with nets, pits, and snares, were set on foot in every direction; the strong bows with curved handles, by means of which a lasso can by skill be thrown round a buffalo’s legs, being in general use. In the villages I observed many trophies of the chase in the shape of some splendid horns of buffaloes and eland-antelopes.

As I went on due east towards the Rohl, I was obliged to be carried, on account of having a sore foot. This I found a matter of some difficulty, on account of the want of any suitable litter, and because the paths are all so narrow that there is no space for two persons to move abreast, while the difficulty was still further increased by the negroes refusing to carry the heavy angarebs in any way except upon their heads. Wherever Islamism has its sway in Africa, it appears never to be the fashion for any one to allow himself to be carried: this arises from a religious scruple which might with advantage be applied by Europeans to nations under their protection. A strict Mohammedan reckons it an actual sin to employ a man as a vehicle, and such a sentiment is very remarkable in a people who set no limits to their spirit of oppression. It is a known fact that a Mohammedan, though he cannot refuse to recognise a negro, denying the faith, as being a man, has not the faintest idea of his being entitled to any rights of humanity.

IDENTIFICATION OF ROUTE.

The country on the left bank of the Wohko appeared well cultivated, and we frequently passed through fields from which crops of Penicillaria had been gathered. Three leagues from Dangadduloo there was some low meadow land, and, for the first time since leaving the Dyoor, I saw an extensive range of Borassus palms, their lofty stems, 80 feet in height, crowned with waving plumes of fan-shaped leaves. Beneath their shade nestled the huts of the Mittoo chief Bai, with whom we took our noonday rest. In the afternoon we retraced our steps for a couple of leagues, in order to put up for the night in the village of another chief, named Gahdy. Towards the north-east some important heights now showed themselves on the horizon beyond the Rohl, and after awhile I was able to settle certain angles so as to determine their relative bearings. By this means, for the first time, I ascertained that my route must be near the points which had been reached by former travellers, and I could with certainty identify Girkeny, relatively about 200 feet high, with the locality marked on Petherick’s map.

It afforded me much amusement to watch the natives at their ordinary occupations in their pent-up dwellings, and my portfolio was enriched by the drawings of many of the household utensils, as well as of the personal ornaments which the Mittoo women possess in great abundance. These women are the most frightful that ever yet I had seen, and the horrible manner in which they mutilate their lips contributes a great deal to increase their repulsiveness. Elsewhere this practice is generally confined to the women, but here the men were similarly disfigured, and in Gahdy’s village I was visited by a man from whose upper lip there hung a pendant of polished quartz more than two inches long.

Just behind the village we came once more upon the Wohko, which had here more perfectly assumed the aspect of a river, being forty feet in width. It had now entered upon the wide low-lying steppe which extends to the western shores of the Rohl. We were nearly two hours in crossing this tract, which was densely covered with grass so high that, although in my litter I was six feet above the ground, I had to raise myself to catch sight of the adjacent mountains.

It is worthy of notice how all the rivers that I visited in this region, such as the Dyoor, the Paongo, the Tondy, the Roah, and the Rohl, of which the course was almost directly from south to north, in spite of the slight diminution of the velocity of the earth’s rotation in these low latitudes of 6° or 8°, follow that law, exemplified in all rivers flowing northwards, and which is dependent on the rate of rotation of the earth. The course of all alike was nearly coincident with the eastern edge of the uniform steppes that covered the districts subject to their inundations. Along the western shore of the Dyoor and Paongo the steppes in many places could not be crossed in much less than an hour, whilst those on the east could be traversed in little more than ten minutes. In the same way it takes forty minutes to cross the western flats on the Tondy near Koolongo, but those on the opposite bank are easily passed in a sixth of the time. Here, too, upon the Rohl there are no flats at all upon the right-hand shore, but the river for some distance washes past a steepish bank on which lies Ghattas’s Seriba Awoory. This bank is formed by the slope of the Girkeny, only about two leagues away.

VARIOUS NAMES OF THE ROHL.

The Rohl contains a much larger volume of water than the Tondy, and near Awoory its bed divides into several branches, which in the winter are separated by sandbanks of considerable height. In the higher parts some stagnant pools remain, which, as they evaporate, fill the lowland with swampy humour. On the 17th of December I found the width of the river to be seventy feet; its depth was only about two feet and a half, but it was overhung by sandy banks twenty feet high, which were covered with reeds; its current moved at the moderate rate of about a hundred feet a minute. The river must offer an imposing sight in the height of the rainy season, when the plains are entirely under water; it must, then, apparently rival the Dyoor, although it does not contain more than a third of the quantity of water. Marked on existing maps under the name of Rohl, it is called by the Dinka the Nam-Rohl, i. e., the river of the “Rohl,” which is a tribe of the Dinka people. The Mittoo, the Madi, and other tribes along its course give it the name of Yahlo, whilst among the Bongo it is known as the Dyollebe. This is a fresh instance of what may be found throughout Africa, where the names of rivers, towns, and chiefs continually recur, and where Ronga and Mundo are almost as common as Columbus, Franklin, and Jackson in North America. The term Kaddo or Kodda, which appears on some maps, seems superfluous, since in both the Mittoo and Behl dialects the word means only “a river,” or generally “water.”

At Awoory a reception grander than usual was prepared for me. From my elevated position I could distinguish that the ant-hills were covered with black heads and that hundreds of inquisitive natives had collected to gratify their curiosity about me. As I entered the Seriba, fifty men were drawn up before the gate, under orders to honour me by firing a salute. Something of a feeling of misgiving quivered through me, and it was a relief to recollect that I was up in the air, and so comparatively safe from the shots that were to be fired on the ground.

The natives around Awoory are called Sohfy, and are the same as the Rohl, who dwell further east. Their language in some respects resembles those of the Mittoo and the Bongo, although there are points in which it differs materially from both. In appearance and habits, the Sohfy bear a close affinity to the Mittoo. The three mountains to the north of Awoory are also inhabited by the Sohfy; Girkeny, the loftiest of these, is about three leagues distant, and consists of a bright mass of gneiss, which descends abruptly towards the south in precipices 200 feet apart. Petherick’s route in 1863, between Aweel and Yirri, lay across this mountain. Nearer the Seriba is a little hill, with its villages of Nyeddy, Yei, and Madoory, all of which are tributary to Ghattas.

About a day’s journey to the north-east there rises a lofty table-land, upon which the name of Khartoom has been conferred by the natives, in order to denote its importance and impregnability as a stronghold. Its inhabitants are respected by the people of the Seriba for their bravery in war, and are particularly renowned for their skill in archery: although they have been repeatedly attacked, the aggressors, ever unsuccessful, have been obliged to retreat with a large number of killed and wounded. A few weeks previously the population of this Mount Khartoom had attempted to surprise the Seriba, which most probably would not have escaped entire destruction, if the garrison of the neighbouring Seriba of the Poncets had not opportunely come to its relief.

The Nubians apply the general term of Dyoor to all the tribes on the Rohl to the south of the Dinka territory, although the tribes themselves, having nothing in common either in language, origin, or customs with the Dyoor of the west (a Shillook tribe), repudiate the definition. The designation was adopted from the Dinka, who thus distinguish all tribes that do not devote themselves to cattle-breeding. Petherick was in error when he imagined that the Dyoor country known to him in his earlier travels extended so far as to include the Rohl: he would have escaped his misapprehension if he had only noted down a few of the characteristic idioms of their language.

MY FOOT INFLAMED.

Whilst I was in Awoory my foot became so much worse that for two days I was almost entirely incapacitated. Externally there was only a slight spot on the sole of the foot, but the entire limb had swollen with inflammation. I had every reason to fear an outbreak of guinea-worm, and therefore resigned myself to the cheerless prospect of being invalided for several weeks. Unable to carry out my intended trip to the attractive mountains of the neighbourhood, I had no alternative but to submit to my disappointment, and, without accomplishing my hopes, I was compelled to bid farewell to Awoory. For six days I had been confined to my litter, and meanwhile all search for plants, all the enticements of the chase, and all investigation of the implements peculiar to the villages had to be given up. Enthroned again on the heads of four sturdy negroes, I proceeded on my way. Through my position, my range of vision was somewhat enlarged, so that I had a little compensation for my helplessness in a more extensive prospect over the pleasant country. Pain, too, was subsiding, and no longer engrossed my care. The bright sky above, the still solitude of the steppes around, the mild air of the tropical winter, and the unwonted ease of my mode of progress, all combined to lull me into gentle reverie. The slight rustle made by the footsteps of the bearers among the yielding stalks was the only sound that broke my silent contemplations, and I could almost imagine that I was in a light boat, being driven by an invisible power across the waves of a sea of grass.

Until we passed the Rohl the road lay in a S.S.E. direction, close along its right-hand bank. Inland, the country appeared to ascend in gently-rising terraces, but the character of the vegetation continued entirely unaltered, the bush-forest being composed of trees and shrubs of the same kind that I had observed ever since we had set foot upon the red soil. At the place of our transit the stream was undivided; but, although it was 200 feet in breadth, the water was little more than knee-deep. The numbers of fish were quite surprising, and our negroes amused themselves by darting with their arrows at the swarms of little perch, never failing to make good their aim.

On the opposite bank we entered the territory of another small but distinct tribe called the Lehssy, whose dialect differs from both Mittoo and Sohfy. Its narrow limits extend for a few leagues to the east of the river as far as Kirmo, which was one of the places visited by Petherick. Beyond again are the settlements of the Bohfy, in whose territory, a day’s journey to the east of Mvolo, Agahd maintains a Seriba, which is situated on the Ayi, a river which, according to Petherick, contains less water than the Rohl and joins the Dyamid before it enters the Bahr-el-Gebel. To the north of the Bohfy dwell the Behl, who, together with the Agar and Sohfy, possess such wealth of cattle as to provoke continual raids on the part of the owners of the Seribas. Behind the Behl again, towards the Bahr-el-Gebel, are the Atwol, a people much feared for their warlike qualities, rendering the approaches to the Meshera of that river so unsafe that caravans are often in considerable danger of attack.

After crossing the Rohl we proceeded a mile or two to the S.E., and arrived at Poncet’s Seriba in Mvolo. The character of the scenery had now entirely changed, and large blocks of granite, at one time in solid cubes, at another in pointed obelisks, started from the ground. On the north of the Seriba, and a little above the place where we forded the river in coming from Awoory, these rocky projections caused the stream to fall into rapids, which, on a reduced scale, bore a resemblance to a cataract of the Nile. This chain of scattered rocks, which runs across the country from west to east, has been mentioned by Petherick (‘Travels in Africa,’ vol. ii.) as extending to the south of the village of Dugwara.

THE BANNER OF ISLAM.

The agent in Mvolo, who had been for many years in the service of the brothers Poncet, received me most courteously. As I entered within the palisade of the Seriba, a hundred men saluted me after the fashion of the country, and even some shots were fired from a small piece of naval artillery that stood in the gateway. However honoured I might feel by this polite reception, I could be conscious of nothing but vexation at the sight of the blood-red banner with its crescent and extracts from the Koran. I had flattered myself in vain with the hope that here at least the cheerful waving of the tricolour—​often but a mockery—​would proudly assert the authority and independence of the Frank. My people had repeatedly declared that they would on no account follow under my flag, and I had no means open to me of convincing them of their error. The unfurling of the Mohammedan banner over the possessions of a Frenchman is a practical demonstration of the limited measure of authority which is really exercised by the Khartoom merchants over their dependents in the interior. There is not a single Christian in the settlement, so that the condition of things is not worse than might reasonably be anticipated. Such, at any rate, is my opinion, and I do not doubt but that any fellow-countryman of Poncet’s would either hold his peace or pass a judgment even sterner than mine.

In all these countries the slave-traffic is a fact tacitly acknowledged quite as much as the transactions of the minor speculators on our own exchanges, and the brothers Poncet had much odium to endure from being held responsible for the delinquencies of their subordinates in this respect. These accusations, combined with the difficulty of maintaining a proper control over the conduct of their people, made them hesitate to increase the number of their settlements; their insignificant profits, moreover, did not allow them to stand against the competition of the neighbouring companies, who shrunk from no means, however unlawful, for enriching themselves. At length the brothers Poncet had become weary of the illegitimate proceedings that went on covertly in defiance of their authority, so that a year previously they had disposed of their establishments to the Egyptian Government, stipulating for a period of three years for a payment of a percentage on the entire produce of ivory at the current rate of interest. Such were the circumstances under which the last European firm withdrew from the ivory trade, which had really been originated and established in the countries of the Upper Nile by Europeans alone. The Egyptian Government had looked forward to the monopoly of the ivory traffic as so likely to be lucrative that they paid a large sum for its purchase.

Mvolo was practically the nearest point to the region which was most productive of ivory, and there was a direct route from the Rohl to the Monbuttoo which avoided the hostile territory of the Niam-niam. Latterly, the Poncets had sent out two expeditions in the year instead of one, and had thus doubled their previous annual profits through having resources which were not available to any other establishment. But, in spite of everything, the authorities at Khartoom must have advised the Government very badly, for almost immediately after the discharge of the grant allowed to the Poncets the settlement passed into other hands, and Ghattas junior obtained for himself and for his heirs the whole of the productive territory.

SLAVE DEALING.

Many may think that a resolution of the Government to monopolise the ivory trade in this district would augur well for the future, and that the results would inevitably tend towards a reform of the existing club-law, but it is really very doubtful whether such a change would benefit the poor oppressed natives. It is true that by a larger outlay of capital than the Khartoom merchants can afford the profits might be considerably increased, and many sources of produce yet undiscovered might be brought to light; but, as I have said before, there can never be ensured a proper representative effectually to secure the interests of the Viceroy. All these enterprises are more or less involved in the slave trade, and a military occupation could not be thought of, because only Nubians can endure the climate, and Nubians would never submit to a regular discipline. Of the ineradicable propensity to slave-dealing which has always shown itself in every Government official, be he Turk or Egyptian, I will say nothing; but I may venture to observe that neither a regular system of taxation nor the suppression of the slave trade in the Upper Nile countries is possible until Egypt shall have made good its footing in Darfoor, that great nucleus of the Central African slave traffic, which has hitherto been a place of refuge for all the criminals in the Egyptian Soudan, and which affords a continual loophole of retreat for every outlaw of Khartoom. The threat so often heard in the quarrels of the people, “I will murder you, and escape to Darfoor,” is a striking illustration of the estimate in which the district is held.

The inhabitants of Mvolo call themselves Lehssy, and in many particulars of their habits they resemble the Mittoo and Bongo. In the huts I frequently observed some singular wooden figures, the Penates of the establishment, which had been erected to the memory of a departed wife. Petherick describes the graves near Kirmo as adorned with forked boughs, and bits of wood carved into the shape of horns, exactly as I noticed them on the graves of the Bongo.

The district produces plenty of corn, and with its ample opportunities for hunting and fishing supports a tolerably large population, which has every appearance of being well fed. The Lehssy generally are of a medium height, but I came across individuals of a strength of build such as I saw nowhere else except among the Niam-niam. I was also struck by the frequent occurrence of feet and hands disproportionately large. Dongolo, the native overseer of Mvolo, was, on account of his stoutness, called “bermeel,” a barrel; and another of the inhabitants was nicknamed “elephant-foot.”

Distinct, in some respects, from what I had already seen was this district of Mvolo. Far as the eye could reach, there extended a wide grassy plain, broken by huge stones of fantastic outline and by thickets or single trees. Graceful fan-palms waved above the groves, and the autumn tints gave a rich colouring to the scenery, every rock, with its covering of creepers, being a picture in itself. In the north could be seen the three mountains near Awoory, like purple peaks in the pale azure of the horizon. In the far distance the country had the deep blue of an Italian sky, mellowed as it came nearer into peculiar tints of grey and golden brown; whilst close to the foreground all was bright with the varied hues of foliage, red, yellow, and olive-green alternating with the freshness of the sprouting shrubs, the Indian red of the ant-hills, and the silvery grey of the jutting rocks.

VIEW IN THE DISTRICT OF MVOLO.

PONCET’S SERIBA IN MVOLO.

The Seriba, like its environs, was unique of its kind. The formidable appearance of the confused pile-work would have spoilt the night’s rest of any one who had a very sensitive imagination. Something like a picture I remember of the Antiquary’s dream, only without the sea, did the complication of huts stand out against the tall blocks of granite from which the fan-palms started like proud columns. The huts themselves, on their platform of clay, were like paper cones on a flat table. In front was the great farmyard, with its hundreds of cattle under the charge of Dinka servants. These neatherds erect for themselves crooked awnings on equally crooked piles, and sit huddled up on a soft bed of ashes round the ever-glowing dungheaps, inhaling with delight their favourite fumes. These pile-works undergo many modifications in design, and have been imitated from the strongholds made by the natives when they were still masters of the land. The principal use of these structures is to afford places of refuge from hostile attack.

ROCK-RABBITS.

Quite in keeping with the fantastic scenery and eccentric architecture is the peculiarity of the rock-rabbits that dwell among the crevices of the gneiss. Immediately after sunset, or before sunrise, they can be seen everywhere, squatting like marmots at the entrance to their holes, into which, at the approach of danger, they dart with wonderful snorts and grunts. The noise they make has caused the Nubians to bestow upon them the general name of “kako.” There is, however, a great variety of species, hardly distinguishable from each other, scattered throughout the Nile countries, every district seeming to present its own special representative of the race. Not only are they found in the mountains of Abyssinia and of Upper Sennaar, but they inhabit those isolated mounds and hills which give its peculiar character to the landscape in Southern Kordofan and the province of Taka. Again, they appear in the mountains of the Bayooda steppes, and play a prominent part in Southern Africa; whilst other species are found in Arabia, in the Sinai peninsula, and in the Syrian mountains. Those that I saw in Mvolo nearly correspond with the Abyssinian species depicted by Bruce. They appear to feed chiefly on the bark of trees, although they occasionally devour young shoots and grass.

Abdoo, the controller of Mvolo, was half a naturalist: as a huntsman he had done service under many Europeans, and had acquired a reputation for being a skilful stuffer of birds. He drew my particular attention to the good sport afforded by the rock-rabbits, as they crept about in tempting proximity to the gate of the Seriba. At the same time, he asked if I could account for the wonderful way in which the animals managed to clamber up and down smooth rocks that were almost perpendicular.

“I can’t tell,” he said, “how it is, but when you have shot one of the creatures, and catch hold of it, it sticks to the rock with its feet, in its death struggles, as though it had grown there.”

The under part of the foot is dark and elastic as india-rubber, and has several deeply-indented cushions.[38] This arrangement, which no other mammalia or warm-blooded animals seem to possess, enables the creature, by opening and closing the centre cleft, to throw off part of its weight and to gain a firm hold upon the smooth surface of the stone. The toes are nothing but pads of horny skin, without regular nails, the hind foot alone being furnished, on the inner toe, with one claw, which is sharply compressed. For some time I could not at all comprehend how, with such a plump foot, the rock-rabbit could climb so safely over precipitous walls of granite, or even along the polished branches of the little trees in the ravines; but the mystery was solved when I tried to pick up an animal which I myself had wounded. The granite was as smooth as pavement, and yet, when I seized the creature by the neck, it clung like birdlime to the ground, and required some force before it could be removed.

Although many other species of rock-rabbits or rock-badgers have been observed by scientific travellers, and although the animals take a conspicuous place in the fauna of Southern Africa, yet I have never come across any mention of this interesting circumstance. My observations may be discredited, but I have endeavoured to render them as accurately as possible, in the hope that future travellers will give further attention to the subject.

The largest specimens that I killed were females with young, and they measured about ten inches in length. They were remarkably like wild rabbits, of a grey tint; the males being much lighter, and having a sharply-defined white stripe running about two inches along the middle of the back. The females of this species produce two perfectly-developed offspring at one birth. The flesh is like that of a common rabbit, and quite as much requires an artificial dressing to make it palatable.

ANIMALS AROUND MVOLO.

Other interesting animals find their habitats among the rocks of Mvolo. The pretty little tan-coloured squirrels (Sciurus leucumbrinus), with two white stripes on either side, of a kind which is often seen on the steppes of Nubia, are here very abundant. There are also swarms of agamas, nodding their orange-coloured heads; the movements of these creatures are anxiously watched by the rock-rabbits, which first utter a note of alarm, and then retreat as nimbly as marmots to their holes, from which they never venture far away. Not unfrequently have I waited half-an-hour before their heads have appeared again.

The inevitable Guinea-fowl, of course, was to be found running through the grass, also a kind of francolin, the cocks with tails erect, like little bantams. As my good entertainment in the Seriba made me independent of the chase for my sustenance, I only killed a few specimens of this pretty bird. Francolins, which abound in other parts of Africa, are very rare throughout the district of the Gazelle. On the third day after my arrival in Mvolo, I was once more on my feet and able to take an excursion to some rapids about half a league to the north-east. The river divides into three branches, and rushes impetuously over a bed chequered with blocks of granite. Two of the larger islands were covered with dense bush-woods, and a charming hedge of borassus-palm lined the banks. The main stream passes in equal parts through the northern and southern arms. The first of these forms a precipitous fall of fifty feet, and, wildly foaming, dashes into the hollow among the rocks—​the entire descent of the river at these rapids being at least a hundred feet. The river makes a bend round the Seriba, and a quarter of a league to the east, above the falls, it is once more flowing in its ordinary bed, which is a hundred feet wide. The smooth blocks of stone were as clean as marble, and the water between was as clear as crystal; the fan-palms and luxuriant bushes spread a cooling shade over the pools, and everything conspired to form a spot that might be consecrated to the wood-nymphs and to the deities of the streams. It was a place most tempting for a bath—​a pleasure from which I had been long debarred. The noxious properties of the waters which I had hitherto visited, as well as the dread of fever, had obliged me to forego all such pastimes; but now I thought I might indulge without fear of evil consequences. Fish are here so abundant, that whoever bathes is liable to find himself molested by their bites.

I rambled about the woods on the slopes of the opposite valley, and made many an interesting discovery. In great luxuriance grew a remarkable cucumber (Cucumis Tinneanus), which is covered by curious and long appendages. Throughout the district of Mvolo a shrub, which has already been naturalised in our conservatories under the name of Tinnea æthiopica, is particularly plentiful; its wood is used by the Nubians for pipe-stems. Its boughs, like those of the weeping-willow, trail to the ground. I gazed with silent emotion on a plant which seemed to mourn the fate of the brave traveller by whom, with her tender appreciation of the beauties of nature, it had formerly been delineated.

At a short distance to the north was pointed out to me the village of Dugwara, where the natives, as we could hear, were performing on their nogara.

DUGWARA.

I had now reached a point at which my route, for the first time since I left the Meshera of the Bahr-el-Ghazal, came in contact with localities whose position is pretty well determined. Mvolo itself had never been actually visited by its former owners, but in 1859 Jules Poncet, during the course of his extensive elephant hunts, had crossed the Rohl somewhere below this spot.[39] The route of the British Consul, J. Petherick, in 1863, lay along the opposite bank of the Rohl, and through Dugwara. My own surveys, corresponding as they did with other routes which had preceded my own, offered very satisfactory results; they agreed very accurately in establishing the position which had been assigned to the Meshera on Arrowsmith’s map[40] of Petherick’s travels between 1858 and 1863, so that I had occasion hardly at all to shift the geographical position of Dugwara. On all earlier maps the Meshera was invariably marked too, far to the west, and the Gazelle was carried half a degree beyond its actual length. The time I occupied, both on my outward and homeward journey, in the navigation of the river, allowed me ample opportunity to verify the correctness of these calculations of my own. I do not know what materials Arrowsmith had at command to authorize him in making the fortunate amendment; Petherick certainly did not agree with the alterations, and, according to his computation, the longitude of this section of his route on the Rohl would have been twenty miles farther eastwards than on Arrowsmith’s map—​a position which, for various reasons, must be improbable.

I had to undergo many little discomforts before leaving this interesting region. The black soldiers and slaves belonging to the Seriba thought that, because I was a white man, I must be the actual brother of the owner, and accordingly they came to me with all kinds of grievances. Contrary to the Controller’s orders, a number of Niam-niam soldiers insisted on following me everywhere, and I was obliged to remonstrate with them rather sharply, to make them understand that I could not permit them to join my people, and that my retinue was large enough already. The female slaves betook themselves for refuge to my hut, bringing their complaints of the rough usage they received from their angry owners, but which it was only too probable they deserved for their faithlessness. The Nubians, on their part, were loud in demanding judgment from me as to their claims on some or other of these runaway women. I can only say that I was very glad to make my escape, and to find myself afresh upon my journey to the west. I was accompanied by a small herd of cows, calves, and sheep—​a present from the controller, who, moreover, forced an excellent donkey upon my acceptance.

THE RIVER WOHKO.

After a stiff march of seven leagues and a-half, through a district with few watering-places, and little interest beyond occasional clumps of the lofty kobbo-tree,[41] we were once more in the territory of the Mittoo, and had reached one of Poncet’s smaller Seribas, called Legby. There was a second Seriba, named Nyoli, about three leagues to the south-east, which I did not visit, as its inhabitants were all busied with a grand battue for elands. These Seribas in the Mittoo country had only been founded in the previous year—​they were on the direct road to the Monbuttoo, and had been intentionally pushed forward towards the territory of the Madi, in order to ensure advantageous quarters for elephant-hunting. The greater part of this region, which previously had been a sort of No-man’s-land, had been recently appropriated to himself by a successful coup of the enterprising Aboo Sammat. From Legby to Ngahma was another five and one-third leagues. The road descended, in a W.N.W. direction, straight down to the Wohko, which we now crossed for the fourth time. We had also to ford two other of the rivulets that traverse the country, which is a good deal broken by hills and eminences. The ground had been quite cleared by the burning of the steppe, and although there had been no rain, a number of perennial plants were sprouting up and covering the bare surface of the soil with their variegated bloom. Many of the trees, such as the Combreta and Butyrosperma, of which the flowers appear before the foliage, were in full blossom. Two especially attracted my attention, because they entirely fail in more northern regions—​these were the Xeropetalum, with its beautiful bright-red flowers, not unlike mallows, and the Stereospermum, which bore grotesque bunches of bloom, resembling red thimbles. They were both in their full beauty, and to some extent reminded me of the floral luxuriance of the Abyssinian highlands.

While in Ngahma, I heard that Aboo Sammat, with his entire fighting force, had withdrawn from Sabby, for the purpose of inspecting his numerous Seribas in the south. It was his first year of possession, and he had gone to feel his way, preparatory to the taxation of the country. Meanwhile, all provisions had been exhausted in Sabby, and if I had ventured to return thither, it would have been at the risk of being starved. I therefore myself resolved to pursue my course in a southerly direction, in order to cast in my lot with Aboo Sammat, until the time drew near for our expedition to the Niam-niam country. The first halting-place at which we arrived, after a march of seven leagues, was the little Seriba Karo, in the Madi district. The road passed to the S.S.E. by a small mound of granite, of which the sterile flats were inhabited by rock-rabbits; we then advanced over granite flats until we reached a spot where an extensive table-land lay open to the south. Once again we crossed the Wohko, and proceeded along its right bank. The river here has all the characteristics of a periodical stream, and was now standing in lagoon-like basins. The width of the stony bed, and the deep holes washed in the huge blocks of granite, which are covered to a considerable height with the mossy Podostemmonea, are proofs of the abundance and violence of the water in the height of the rainy season. Looking W.S.W., I was greatly surprised by the unexpected sight of some elevated rocky peaks. Amongst them, and about four leagues distant, was the point called Wohba, near Deraggo, which I afterwards visited. This isolated range extends as far as the Wohko, and there terminates in a ridge 80 to 100 feet in height. Near Karo the stream forms a defile 40 to 50 feet deep, enclosed by regular hills. The banks, which were very steep, were concealed by the impenetrable shade of magnificent trees (Hexalobus), reminding me very much of the true chestnut.

The Mittoo display a remarkable talent for music, and construct a great variety of instruments. The most important of these is a lyre with a sounding-board, not unlike the robaba used by the people of Nubia. The soldiers in all the Seribas manifest their African origin by the zeal with which in their leisure they practise the musical art. I noticed one of the Madi with a bamboo flute of quite an European pattern, and at my request he played what was really a very pretty air, which must have cost him considerable time and trouble to learn, so perfect were the separate modulations: when the Nubians heard him they paid him the compliment of saying that he played as well as any Frank musician in Alexandria.

From Karo I went on still southwards for three leagues to Reggo, another small Seriba belonging to Poncet’s company, and where the elephant-hunters were quartered. The road thither led chiefly through cultivated fields that had been planted with Penicillaria. I also for the first time observed the culture of the sweet potato (Batatas), a favourite food of the Niam-niam. This had a singularly sweet taste, and a purplish rind, which occasionally deviated into white; the largest tubers of this in the Madi country never exceed the thickness of a finger.

RECENT SCARCITY OF ELEPHANTS.

The Poncets had founded settlements in this part of the country in order to hold their own against the wide incursions which Aboo Sammat was making from his territory in the same direction. The company laid claim to the sole right of ranging the district, a demand which was only consistent with their original interest in the ivory produce. The hunters are called “Sayadeen,” because they are armed with huge rifles, which have been gradually introduced into the country from Khartoom. Only a few days previously they had killed two elephants, which represented a whole year’s success. In former years the Poncets had commanded the expeditions in person, and then a corps of these hunters would in a single year secure as much ivory as would equal the largest quantity now gathered from the aggregate of the Niam-niam lands. Although the period of which I speak was not more than fourteen years ago, these large collections have become completely things of the past. In the present Seriba district, it is now expected to make a journey of some days before there is any likelihood of catching sight of an elephant at all; the wary beasts, too, appear instinctively to know the regions in which they can be safe. They live to a great age, and I do not doubt but that all the oldest representatives of the elephant community have been at some time or other attacked by man, and that many have been actually under fire. In the Dinka country there are places such as I have already mentioned, in the woods of the Alwady tribe, where elephants may be seen during the rainy season. When I asked the Khartoomers why they did not go and get the ivory themselves, they always replied that such hunting would be a sorry failure, and that while they were shooting the elephants the natives would be shooting them.

In Reggo the soldiers were fond of breeding dogs, and the Seriba literally swarmed with the fat pups of the Niam-niam breed. I found, moreover, that the people managed to do a little quiet business for themselves by bartering dogs for slaves to the Mittoo. Dog’s flesh, too, they enjoyed as much as the Niam-niam, and the price given for an animal affords a proof of the relish they have for the dainty; the teeth form a favourite ornament for necklaces and stomachers.

The first of January, 1870, appeared, beginning a new link in the unbroken chain of time. It was the second New Year that I had commenced in Central Africa, and although for me the day passed quietly and with no rejoicing, yet I was filled with thoughts of gratitude that I had been spared so long. Although one cloud and another might appear to loom in the uncertain future, yet the confidence I felt in my acclimatisation enabled me with good courage to proceed upon my wanderings.

Goggo, a Mittoo-Madi Chief.

The next place that we reached was Kurragera, the most southern point of Aboo Sammat’s newly-acquired territory. The march had occupied about five hours, and on our way we had for the sixth time crossed the Wohko. Previously we had halted in the village of one of the Madi elders, who bore the melodious name of Kaffulukkoo; I had also the honour of an introduction to another chief, called Goggo, of whom I was able to secure a portrait. His imposing peruke was not of his own hair, nor indeed was it hair at all, but consisted of an artificial tissue of woven threads, which were soaked with yellow ochre and reeking with grease.

KURRAGERA.

Kurragera’s Seriba, like Aboo Sammat’s other settlements, had been entirely cleared of its soldiers, and only the local overseer of the Madi remained to look after the corn-stores. Inside the palisade were piled thousands of the bearers’ loads, each neatly packed into a circular bundle, and protected by the simple and effectual coverings made by the natives from leaves and straw. These packages contained a preliminary portion of the corn-stores. Almost every product of the soil that I have described in Chapter VI. was here to be seen, and in addition were the sweet potatoes cultivated by the Madi.

Aboo Sammat at this time, with his whole available fighting force, was encamped on the Wohko about three leagues to the south. With the help of 250 soldiers, and more than 300 Bongo and Mittoo bearers, he had put the entire country in the south and south-east, from beyond the Rohl nearly as far as the frontiers of the so-called Makkarakkah, under contribution. The tribes in the more immediate neighbourhood were the Madi-Kaya, the Abbakah, and Loobah, which manifestly occupied the same district to which, in 1863, Petherick’s agent Awat made an expedition. Many chiefs submitted voluntarily to the taxation; others remained hostile for a period, but afterwards surrendered all their stores to the enemy à discrétion. The region was so productive that the number of bearers did not nearly suffice to carry away the goods that had been seized. The enterprise was accomplished without any loss of blood.

I was compelled to stay for some days in Kurragera to await Aboo Sammat’s return, and began to get somewhat weary, as amongst the flora I could find little that was suitable for my collection; I had besides used up all the pencils I had brought with me, and was obliged to write with hen’s blood. Meanwhile, as in Awoory and Ngahma, I continued my study of the Mittoo language, and took a great deal of pains to unravel the intricacies of the Madi method of counting, to which I shall have another occasion to refer hereafter.

The butter-trees were now in full bloom. The milky juice that exudes from the stems of these trees reminds one of gutta-percha, which is a secretion of a species of the same order of plants (Sapotaceæ). I often saw the children making balls with the lumps of caoutchouc, which served as universal playthings. In 1861, Franz Binder, the Transylvanian, formerly a merchant in Khartoom, brought a hundredweight of this india-rubber to Vienna, but although the material turned out very well in a technical point of view, the cost of its transport was too great for it ever to become an important article in the commerce of these lands.

On the 7th of January, Aboo Sammat, with the greater number of his soldiers and bearers, returned to the Seriba. He wished to display his authority in a way that should make an impression upon me, and therefore set apart an entire day for festivities on a large scale. His people were divided according to their tribes into groups of 500, and each of these had to execute war-dances worthy of their commander. Aboo Sammat himself seemed ubiquitous; in a way that no other Nubian would have done without fancying himself degraded, he arrayed himself like a savage, and at one time with lance and shield, at another with bow and arrow, danced indefatigably at intervals from morning till night at the head of the several groups; he was a veritable Nyare-Goio, i.e., master of the ceremonies; here he was dancing as a Bongo, there as a Mittoo; then he appeared in the coloured skin apron of the Niam-niam, and next in the costume of a Monbuttoo: he was at home everywhere, and had no difficulty in obtaining all the necessary changes of apparel. Several of the Bongo of Sabby exhibited a talent for theatrical representations, and to the great delight of the Nubians they enacted the scene of how Aboo Sammat surprised and thrashed the Mukhtar Shereefee; they improvised a recitative accompanied by corresponding action, the purport of which was to tell how Mukhtar was hit with a stick, and tumbled into the straw hedge crying like a Deloo-buck, “ba mi oah!” (alas! alas!). Then followed the refrain, “Madrislalla, illalla, illalla.” Between the parts there was an incessant firing; the guns were loaded with whole handfuls of powder, so that it was several minutes before the clouds of smoke rolled away from the groups of dancers. The continual noise and dust tired me far more than the longest day’s march I had ever undertaken.

SPEECH OF THE KENOOSIAN.

On the following day the Kenoosian convoked an assembly of the newly-subjugated chiefs of the Madi, and in a long speech impressed upon them their obligations. I was a witness of the characteristic scene, and as the interpreter freely translated sentence by sentence to the negroes, I did not lose a word of Mohammed’s oration. With terrible threats and imprecations he began by depicting in the blackest colours the frightful punishments that awaited them if they should disobey his orders, while at the same time he plumed himself upon his magnanimity.

“Look you!” he said; “I don’t want your wives and children, nor do I intend to take your corn, but you must attend to the transport of my provisions; and I insist that there shall be no delay, or else the people in the Seriba will starve. You, Kuraggera, must go to your villages, and gather together old and young, men and women: get all the boys who can carry anything, and all the girls who bring water from the brook, and you must order them one and all to be here early to-morrow; every one of them will have to convey the corn to Deraggo; the bales are of all sizes, and each may carry in proportion to his strength. But mark you this: if one of the bearers runs away, or if he throws down his load, I will tear out your eyes; or if a package is stolen, I will have your head.” And here Mohammed lifted a huge weapon like the sword of an ancient German knight, and brandished it rapidly over the head of the Madi chieftain. Then turning to another, he proceeded: “And I have something to say to you, Kaffulukkoo; I know that Poncet’s people have been here lately, and have carried off two elephants; now how did they contrive to find them? Bribed you were, bribed so that you sent messengers to inform them where the elephants might be found. And you, Goggo, why do you permit such proceedings in your district? Now listen: if Poncet’s people come back, you must shoot them; this must not happen again, or you shall pay for it with your life; and if any one of you takes ivory to a strange Seriba, I will have him burnt alive. Now, I think you understand pretty well what you ought to do. But I have something else to say, just to caution you in case you may have any intention of injuring my people. Perhaps, as a Turk may be walking alone, the negroes may creep into the grass, and shoot him with their arrows: what of that? Rats may bury themselves in the ground, and frogs and crabs may hide in their holes, but there is a way, you know, to find them out; snakes may creep about in the straw, but to that we can set fire. Or, perhaps, you will try to burn the steppes over our heads: never mind, I can light a fire too, and you shall pay dearly for your treachery. Do as you did before, and run away to the caves at Deraggo, and I will shoot you there with shitata (cayenne pepper) from my elephant rifle, and you will soon be glad enough, half choked and stupefied, to come out again and beg for mercy. Or, supposing the negroes try and poison the shallow khor, and any Turks drink that water and die—​don’t be expecting to fly away like birds, or to escape my vengeance!” And much more there was in the same strain.

I had sent my cattle from Ngahma direct to Sabby, and, after laying in a sufficient stock of provisions, I prepared to return as soon as I could to my head-quarters, in order to have time to complete the necessary arrangements for the campaign in the Niam-niam countries. Before leaving Kurragera, I witnessed another amusing scene in Aboo Sammat’s endeavours to make the chiefs understand the number of bearers he required. Like most other people of Africa, the Madi can only count up to ten, everything above that number having to be denominated by gestures. At last some bundles of reeds were tied together in tens, and then the negro, although he could not express the number, comprehended perfectly what was required of him. Kurragera was obliged to furnish 1530 bearers, and being asked whether he understood, made an affirmative gesture, took the immense bundle of reeds under his arm, and walked off gravely to his village. We moved on through the day in company with an enormous train of 2000 bearers of both sexes and of every age. Keeping on continually in a northerly direction, after a march of eight leagues we reached the Seriba Deraggo. The Deraggo mountains were visible several leagues distant to the north, and afforded some desirable stations for verifying my route. By the side of one of the Roah tributaries, called Gooloo, which, however, we did not cross, we halted for a while, and I employed the interval in shooting guinea-fowl, ordinary poultry in this district being somewhat scarce.

DERAGGO.

For the first time since I had quitted Egypt, I spent the night in Deraggo without my bedding: the servant who had the charge of it had left it behind in Kurragera. On all my tours, I never failed in being extremely careful not to omit anything that without material expense could contribute to my health and comfort. I had learnt enough to know that the more the traveller contrives to spare himself exhaustion from fatigue, the more he will be able ultimately to perform, and the greater will be his security against the baneful influences of the climate. A perfect, or even reliable, acclimatisation is not to be thought of until after some years’ experience, and any attempt to hasten it by rash exposure, or by unnecessary hardship, is quite unavailing.

I spent one day in a visit to the neighbouring mountains, which, lying about a league to the east of the Seriba, extended for about three leagues to the north-east. The loftiest and most southerly peak is called Wohba, and is about 500 feet high: it contains some remarkable caves, which I had not time to visit; they were the same referred to by Aboo Sammat when he threatened to drive out the Madi with pepper-dust, a hint which might be taken by any future general who may desire to smoke out the unhappy Bedouins from the caves of Algeria. I contented myself with mounting an eminence about 300 feet high, called Yongah. The western horizon and the mountains of Awoory were unfortunately obscured by a dense smoke from the burning of the steppe; but the little hills between Ngahma and Karo were distinctly visible. I also noticed in the W.S.W. a mountain known as Gere, which I afterwards saw again when returning from the Niam-niam countries, as I was passing along the basin of the Lehssy. The chain of Deraggo is formed of a bright-coloured gneiss. A valley broke in near the spot which I explored, and along the entrance the Madi had dug a row of pits forty feet deep for the purpose of catching elephants. Hither, from a wide circuit, they hunt the animals, which, hastily rushing into the valley, fall headlong into the trenches which have been artfully concealed.

The Seriba Deraggo was situated in the eastern part of a valley gently sloping towards the mountains. From the depth of this depression there issued an important brook, whose bed at this season contained a series of huge pools. We now again turned westwards towards the Roah, in order that I might visit Kuddoo, the last of Aboo Sammat’s Seribas, which lies exactly south of Dokkuttoo, and thirty miles higher up the river. We were obliged to make a wide détour to avoid the mountains, and, after a stiff march for five leagues in a W.N.W. direction, we at length reached our destination.

THE RIVER ROAH.

The Roah flows close by Kuddoo in a deep basin enclosed with forest, and describes a semicircle about the Seriba. The river was now from thirty to fifty feet wide; in the rainy season it is as much as fifteen feet deep, whilst in the winter its depth rarely exceeds four or five feet. The channel of the river was here entirely overarched with verdure; in some places the lofty trees starting from the dense woods met across the water, and formed bowers of foliage, whilst the fallen stems below made natural bridges. Very feeble were the rays of light that penetrated to the surface of the water, and the long creepers trailed from the overhanging branches. The force of the current caught the pendants, and made the tree-tops bend and the leaves all rustle as though moved by the hands of spirits. Large monkeys found congenial habitation in the branches, the river vegetation offering many of the fruits on which they can subsist. At times the beauty and abundance of the blossoms surpassed anything that I had seen. Pre-eminent in splendour were the brilliant Combreta: the masses of bloom gleamed like torches amid the dark green of the thickets, whilst the golden sheen of the fruit intensified the marked contrast of the tints. Any attempt to give a detailed account of the beauties of Africa is entirely unavailing, and once again I refrain from wearying the reader with any further repetition of my admiration.

Leaving Kuddoo, we marched for eight leagues near the left bank of the Roah, and across the numerous little water-courses that intersect the region, and flow down to the river on the right. At Degbe we re-entered the road along which we had travelled on our outward trip, and, passing through Dokkuttoo, we did not again quit our previous route all the way to Sabby. As we approached Geegyee, the spot notorious for the rapacity of the lion, my people betrayed an anxiety still greater than upon their journey thither, for in Dokkuttoo the intelligence had reached us that some lions had been again seen on the previous day, and that several travellers who had come across them in their march had only escaped by climbing up into the trees. This was a circumstance that painted itself upon my fancy in such entertaining details, that I could not resist the desire to see it acted out for my own amusement. Accordingly, when we had reached the densest part of the formidable forest, at a spot where the pathways were most crooked and intricate, I bellowed out in the most despairing accents I could command, the cry of “A lion! a lion!” In an instant the bearers had flung down their burdens, and my brave Nubians scampered off to the nearest tree. Nimbly as sailors up the rigging of a foundering ship, did they clamber high into the boughs. I enjoyed my laugh as I made them see what brave fellows they were.

We here saw in all directions the recent traces of numbers of elephants, which must have crossed our path in many places during the previous night. Our last bivouac was made on the banks of the Tudyee, where we feasted on the flesh of two hartebeests, brought down from among a number that had been feeding on the tender foliage of the underwood. On the last day but one of the march, I had more exertion than on any other of the twenty-four through which the excursion had lasted; without once sitting down, I passed the entire day in hunting and walking.

On the 15th of January I once more re-entered the hospitable huts of Sabby, and was welcomed by the servants I had left behind, and almost overpowered by the joyful caresses of my dogs. This tour to the east had altogether extended over 210 miles, and I had thoroughly explored the territory of a people who had hitherto been almost unknown, even by name. I will now take a retrospect of the country I had just left, and give a brief summary of my observations on its political condition.

THE MITTOO.

In default of a national designation for a group of tribes speaking almost the same dialect, and whose distinctive qualities appear mainly in their slight differences of apparel, I should prefer to follow the example of the Khartoomers, and call these people simply Mittoo; this name, however, only really belongs to the most northerly of the group, who call themselves Mittoo, or Mattoo, and there are four other tribes who consider themselves equally distinct and independent, viz., the Madi,[42] the Madi-Kaya, the Abbakah, and the Loobah. Their collective country lies between the rivers Roah and Rohl, and for the most part is situated between lat. 5° and 6° N. Towards the north it stretches far as the territories of the Dinka tribes of the Rohl and Agar; on the south it is bounded by the eastern extremity of the Niam-niam, where the name of Makkarakkah has already been adopted in our maps. But Makkarakkah and Kakkarakkah is a designation which the Mittoo use for the Niam-niam taken in the gross, and not the name of any single tribe. Out of their own mouth, whenever I referred to the soil upon which I was standing, I had every proof that the Mittoo call their land “Moro,” a name which Petherick on his map has attributed to the entire district between lat. 4° 30´ and 6° N., which extends eastwards from the Rohl to the Ayi.

All the Mittoo tribes are able to converse with each other, as their languages present only such minor differences of dialect as might be supposed would arise from their independent political position; the Niam-niam, on the other hand, with just the same plurality of tribes, preserve a uniformity of language which admits of scarcely any variety. The Mittoo dialects in some of their sounds resemble that of the Bongo, but taken as a whole, like all the distinctive languages of the larger nations of the Gazelle, the Mittoo and the Bongo have very little in common. As far as regards customs, dress, and household appliances, it must be admitted that the Mittoo tribes most nearly resemble the Bongo, and it almost might seem as if, in the history of their development, they formed a transition between them and the Niam-niam.

The subjection of the Mittoo to the Khartoomers must not be dated earlier than the year preceding my visit. Although the country in a limited sense had to a certain extent been partitioned amongst the arbitrary and advancing companies of the Upper Nile, and notwithstanding that its inhabitants had been in places reduced to a condition of vassalage similar to that under which the Dyoor and Bongo had been smarting for the last ten years, yet the entire subjugation of the southern tribes, the Loobah and Abbakah in particular, might still be described as incomplete. The Abbakah hitherto have been only occasionally subject to the incursions of slave-catchers and corn-stealers, and therefore they have neither the advantages nor the disadvantages, whatever they may be, of actual vassals.

In the scale of humanity all the Mittoo tribes are decidedly inferior to the Bongo: they are distinguished from them by a darker complexion, and by a bodily frame less adapted to sustain exertion or fatigue. During my visit to the Niam-niam countries, I had many opportunities of seeing large bodies of bearers of both races, side by side, and was then able to institute comparisons between the two. The Bongo vied with each other in their powers of endurance, and would subsist for a length of time upon mere roots without any perceptible change in their appearance, whilst the Mittoo under the same ordeal would waste almost to skeletons, and in a very short time would abandon all attempt at work. Even in their own homes I hardly ever saw them with the strongly-built frames of the sturdy Bongo. Nearly all the Mittoo who were employed as bearers were afflicted with the guinea-worm. An undesirable prerogative is this that the race have gained, that they should nurture such a thorn in the flesh; for the guinea-worm is far from universal, and makes selections as to what diversities of human nature it shall choose to patronise.

FERTILITY OF MITTOO COUNTRY.

I failed to obtain any satisfactory explanation of this debility of the Mittoo; their land is very productive, they are diligent agriculturists, and they cultivate many a variety of cereals and tuberous plants, as well as of oily and leguminous fruits. On account of its fertility the land requires but little labour in its culture, and throughout its extent displays a productiveness which is only found for any continuance at rare intervals in the other countries that I visited. It is especially noticeable between lat. 5° and 5° 30´ N., in the districts on the upper Roah and Wohko, which are liberal stores for the sterile Nubian settlements on either hand. The district of the Mbomo, which is adjacent to that of the Nganye of the Niam-niam, between the rivers Lehssy and Roah, is also pre-eminent among its neighbours for its extensive growth of maize.

Goat of the Bongo, Mittoo, Momwu, and Babuckur.

The Mittoo breed the same domestic animals as the Bongo, viz., goats, dogs, and poultry; they possess no cattle, and are on that account ranked by the Dinka under the contemptuous designation of “Dyoor,” which is intended to be synonymous with savages. They estimate the dog, however, in a very different way from the Bongo, and by their fondness for its flesh show that they are not many grades above the cannibal. Bernardin de S. Pierre, in his ‘Études de la Nature,’ gives it as his opinion that to eat dog’s flesh is the first step towards cannibalism; and certainly, when I enumerate to myself the peoples whom I visited who actually, more or less, devoured human flesh, and find that among them dogs were invariably considered a delicacy, I cannot but believe that there is some truth in the hypothesis.

MUTILATION OF LIPS.

The whole group of the Mittoo exhibits peculiarities by which it may be distinguished from its neighbours. The external adornment of the body, the costume, the ornaments, the mutilations which individuals undergo—​in short, the general fashions—​have all a distinctive character of their own. The most remarkable of their habits is the revolting, because unnatural, manner in which the women pierce and distort their lips; they seem to vie with each other in their mutilations, and their vanity in this respect I believe surpasses anything that may be found throughout Africa. Not satisfied with piercing the lower lip, they drag out the upper lip as well for the sake of symmetry.[43] To the observations I have made before about all African tribes that in their attire they endeavour to imitate some part of the animal creation, I may add that they seem to show a special preference for copying any individual species for which they have a particular reverence. In this way it frequently happens that their superstition indirectly influences the habits of their daily life, and that their animal-worship finds expression in their dress. It is, however, difficult to find anything in nature collateral with the adornment of the Mittoo women; and it surpasses all effort to understand what ideal they can have in their imagination when they extend their lips into broad bills. If our supposition be correct, the Mittoo fashion perhaps only indicates a partiality for the spoonbills and the shovellers with which these ladies may have some spiritual affinity. The projections of the iron-clad lips are of service to give effect to an outbreak of anger, for by means of them the women can snap like an owl or a stork, or almost as well as the Balæniceps Rex.

Lory, a Mittoo Woman.

Circular plates nearly as large as a crown piece, made variously of quartz, of ivory, or of horn, are inserted into the lips that have been stretched by the growth of years, and these often rest in a position that is all but horizontal; and when the women want to drink they have to elevate the upper lip with their fingers, and to pour the draught into their mouths.

Wengo, a Mittoo Woman.

Similar in shape is the decoration which is worn by the women of Maganya; but though it is round, it is a ring and not a flat plate; it is called a “pelele,” and has no other object than to expand the upper lip. Some of the Mittoo women, especially the Loobah, not content with the circle or the ring, force a cone of polished quartz through the lips as though they had borrowed an idea from the rhinoceros. This fashion of using quartz belemnites of more than two inches long is in some instances adopted by the men.

MITTOO GARMENTS.

The women of the Madi correspond in their outward garb with the Mittoo in general; they make use of a short garment of mixed leaves and grass like the Bongo. The men adopt the same kind of skin covering for their loins as the Bongo, but they have one decoration which seems peculiar to themselves; they wear in front something after the style of the “rahad” of the Soudan or the “isimene” of the Kaffirs—​a short appendage made of straps of leather, ornamented by rings and scraps of iron; but it is so narrow that it has almost the look of a cat-o’-nine-tails. There are others who buckle on to their loins a triangular skin which has every variety of rings and iron knick-knacks fastened round its edge.

Loobah Woman.

Cone of quartz worn
in the lip (actual
size).

Occasionally there were to be seen some broad girdles covered with a profusion of cowries, such as the Niam-niam were said to wear; but hitherto the Madi were the only people I had met with who retained any value for cowries, which for some time had ceased to be held in much repute in the Gazelle district. The mode of wearing these conchylia was to split off their convex backs and to fasten them on so as to display only the white orifices.

Apron worn by the Madi.

Like the northern Bongo the Mittoo disdain devoting their attention to the decoration of their hair: men and women alike wear it quite short. The portrait of Goggo has already furnished a representation of one of their elaborate perukes.

The plucking out of the eyelashes and the eyebrows is quite an ordinary proceeding among the women. The men have coverings for their head the same as the Niam-niam. The accompanying portrait of Ngahma shows such an article of headgear, suggesting the comparison either of a Russian coachman’s hat, or of the cap of a mandarin. They are very fond likewise of fixing a number of iron spikes to a plate which they fasten behind the head, and to these they attach strings of beads and tufts of hair. The Madi make also a sort of cap rather prettily ornamented with coloured beads and which fits the head tight like a skull-cap.

It is only among the men that tattooing is practised on a large scale, the lines usually radiating from the belly in the direction of the shoulders like the buttons on certain uniforms; the women merely have a couple of parallel rows of dotted lines upon the forehead. The variety is very great of the ornaments which they construct out of iron and copper, consisting of bells, drops, small axes and anchors, diminutive rings, and platters, and trinkets of every sort. All the women wear a host of rings in their ears.

MITTOO ORNAMENTS.

These tribes have the same liking for iron chains as the Niam-niam and the Monbuttoo. Whatever they attach to their bodies they attach by chains; and they are very inventive in their designs for armlets and rings for the ankles. The armlets very often have a projecting rim, which is provided with a number of spikes or teeth, which apparently have no other object than to make a single combat as effective as possible.

Ngahma, a Mittoo Chief.

Even amongst these uncultured children of nature, human pride crops up amongst the fetters of fashion, which indeed are fetters in the worst sense of the word; for fashion in the distant wilds of Africa tortures and harasses poor humanity as much as in the great prison of civilisation. As a mark of their wealth, and for the purpose of asserting their station in life, both sexes of the Mittoo wear chains of iron as thick as their fingers, and of these very often four at a time are to be noticed on the neck of the same individual. Necklaces of leather are not unfrequently worn strong enough to bind a lion; these impart to the head that rigidity of attitude given by the high cravats at which we wonder so much when we look at the portraits of a past generation. When the magnates of the people, arrayed in this massive style, and reeking with oily fat, swagger about with sovereign contempt amongst their fellow mortals, they are only as grand as the slimy diplomatists, solemn and stiff, who strut along without vouchsafing to unlock one secret from their wary lips. These necklaces are fixtures; they are fastened so permanently in their place that only death, decay, or decapitation can remove them. I was never fortunate enough to see the mysterious operation by which these circles were welded on, but I know that when the rings are soldered to the arms and ankles, fillets of wood are inserted below the metal to protect the flesh from injury.

MITTOO MUSIC.

Amongst the many particulars in which the Mittoo are inferior to the Bongo, it may be noticed that their huts are not only smaller, but that they are very indifferently built. Many of them could be covered by a crinoline of lavish proportions. In their musical instruments, however, and in their capabilities for instrumental performances, they are far superior to any of their neighbours. Instead of the great “manyinyee,” or wooden trumpet of the Bongo, they make use of long gourd flasks with holes in the side. They have also a stringed instrument which may be described as something between a lyre and a mandolin; five strings are stretched across a bridge which is formed from the large shell of the Anodont mussel; the sounding board is quadrangular, covered with skin, with a circular sound-hole at each corner. The instrument altogether is extremely like the “robaba” of the Nubians, and constitutes one of many evidences which might be adduced that the present inhabitants of the Nile Valley have some real affinity with the tribes of the most central parts of Africa. The flute is made quite on the European principle, and is most expertly handled by the Madi, who bestow much attention on mastering particular pieces. Small signal-horns made with three apertures are in general use amongst the tribes of the district; but the slim trumpet called “dongorah” is peculiar to the Mittoo; it is about eighteen inches long, and resembles the “mburah” of the Bongo. Music is in high estimation amongst the tribes which compose this group, and it may be said of them that they alone have any genuine appreciation of melody, negro music in general being mere recitative and alliteration. I once heard a chorus of a hundred Mittoo singing together; there were men and women, old and young, and they kept admirable time, succeeding in gradual cadence to procure some very effective variations of a well-sustained air.

Mittoo Lyre.

Mittoo air.

The implements in general differed very little from the industrial contrivances of the Bongo. Their iron-work is rougher and clumsier; but they take a great deal of pains in forming their arrow-tips, having scores of devices for shaping the barbs. One of their ordinary utensils is a crescent-cut ladle with a long handle for stirring their soup.

Graves, for the most part are seen like those of the Bongo; they consist of a heap of stones supported by stakes, on which is placed the flask from which the deceased was accustomed to drink; both Mittoo and Bongo too, as might be conjectured, have the same method of disposing of their dead, and erect the carved wood penates which have been already mentioned.

The use of the bow and arrow gives the Mittoo a certain warlike superiority over the Dinka, and among their neighbours they are considered to surpass the Bongo in their dexterity in archery. Their bows are four feet long, and of an ordinary form. Like the Monbuttoo, who have shorter bows, they use wooden arrows which are about three feet in length. The heads of these arrows reach to the middle of the length. The Mittoo despise the cumbrous protection of a shield, but they are careful to keep a liberal supply of spears.

FOOTNOTES:

[38] Bruce (vol. v., description of plate 24) expressly mentions the circumstance of the soft flesh standing up high on both sides of the indentation.

[39] ‘Le Fleuve Blanc: Notes géographiques de Jules Poncet,’ is the best publication on the White Nile that I know. It gives reliable details of J. Poncet’s interesting journey, and specifies many characteristics, founded on some years’ experience, of the different people of the district.

[40] Journal R. G. S., vol. xxxv.

[41] A new species of Humboldtia which unites the characteristics of the Berlinia with those of the Crudya.

[42] These Madi, whose name is of frequent occurrence in Africa, have no connexion with the Madi of the upper part of the Bahr-el-Gebel.

[43] The mutilation of both lips was also observed by Rohlfs among the women of Kadje, in Segseg, between Lake Tsad and the Benwe.

CHAPTER X.

Preparations for Niam-niam campaign. Generosity of Aboo Sammat. Organisation of the caravan. Ceremonies at starting. Banner of Islam. Travelling costume. Terminalia forest. Hartebeest chase. Ahmed the Liar. Prospect from Mbala Ngeea. Bivouac on the Lehssy. Camp noises at night. Story of cannibalism. Ahmed’s fate. The Ibba. First meeting with Niam-niam. Growth of the popukky-grass. Elephant-hunting among the Niam-niam. Surprise at the white man. Visit to Nganye. A chieftain’s household. Entertainment by Nganye. Gumba. Colocasia. A Niam-niam minstrel. Beauty of the Zawa-trees. Encephalartus on the hill of Gumango. Cultivated districts on the Rye. Condition of hamlets and farms. Devastation of Bendo’s district. Contest with the soldiers. Escape from a bullet. Identity of the Sway and the Dyoor. The law of drainage. Passage of the Manzilly. First primeval forest. Frontier wildernesses. Organisation in the geography of plants. Importance of guinea-fowl to the traveller. Feeding the bearers. National diet.

Three months had thus elapsed in almost uninterrupted wanderings, but I found on my return to Sabby that I could spare only a short reprieve for recruiting. Previous to starting on the laborious expedition to the Niam-niam, to which under the guidance of my protector I had pledged myself, there remained only a fortnight. A score of packages had to be fastened up, many a trunk had to be arranged, clothes had to be provided, implements of many sorts to be secured, ammunition and arms to be put in readiness for the projected excursion into a hostile territory, where we proposed to pursue our way for six months to come. In addition to this provision for the future, I had to make good the arrears in my diary, to get through all my correspondence for the current year, and to provide for the remittance of my valuables to distant Europe. All this had to be accomplished in the space of fourteen days.

Nor could domestic demands afford to be overlooked. My household required a vigilant supervision. The mere labour of washing our clothes was considerable, although the accumulation of two months’ wear was by no means extensive. In order to perform the laundry work, it was necessary to send to the river, a league and a half distant, where the things could be rinsed out, dried, and bleached. On the evening before our departure for what we called “the world’s end,” my four-legged body-guard was suddenly enlarged by eight charming little pups of the splendid Shillook breed. Of my Nubian servants, Hussein was the oldest and the most experienced, and to him I entrusted the responsibility of conveying in safety the newly-born animals, together with my correspondence and all my collections, back to Ghattas’s Seriba in Dyoor-land, which I still deemed my head-quarters. The worthy fellow thus had the advantage of exchanging the prospect of a roving life among the Niam-nian for the friendly life of the Seriba, where, in the society of his countrymen, he might pass his time in playing upon the robaba, in mastering the intricacies of the game of mungala, or, while the gourd-shells of merissa went merrily round, in joining in the chorus, rendered with a fine nasal twang, of “Derderoah, derderoah el yum, derderoah, derdereh, ginyatohm.”

By the 29th of January, 1870, every preparation had been so far advanced that the bulk of the caravan was set in motion. Mohammed Aboo Sammat himself proposed to join the party in about a fortnight, as he was compelled to go into the Mittoo district to secure some additional bearers. My own retinue consisted of four Nubian servants, and three negroes who were engaged as interpreters, one of them being a Bongo, the other two genuine Niam-niam; besides these, there was a number of Bongo bearers, which at first was about thirty, but in the course of our progress was increased to forty. The whole of these were supplied to me at the sole expense of Mohammed, whose hospitality I had now been receiving for three months, and continued to enjoy to the end of our excursion; not only throughout the period of eight months did he entertain me and all my party whilst we were in his settlements, but he entered most readily into all my wishes, and whenever I desired to explore any outlying parts he would always lend me the protection of a portion of his armed force.

MOHAMMED ABOO SAMMAT.

Never before had any European traveller in Central Africa such advantageous conditions for pursuing his investigations; never hitherto in the heart of an unknown land had there been anything like the same number of bearers at his disposal, and that, too, in a region where the sole means of transport is on the heads of the natives. All the museums—​particularly those which are appropriated to botany—​which have been enriched in any way by my journeyings are indebted to Aboo Sammat for not a few of their novelties. Solely because I was supported by him did I succeed in pushing my way to the Upper Shary, more than 800 miles from Khartoom, thus opening fresh districts to geographical knowledge and establishing the existence of some enigmatical people.

Everything, moreover, that Mohammed did was suggested by his own free-will. No compulsion of government was put upon him, no inducements on my part were held out, and, what is more, no thought of compensation for his outlay on myself or my party ever entered his mind. The purest benevolence manifestly prompted him—​the high virtue of hospitality in its noblest sense. Whoever is actuated by the spirit of adventure to penetrate into the heart of Africa, so as to make good his footing amongst four different peoples, is undoubtedly a man of energy; although he may not be spurred on by any scientific purpose, and may simply be gratifying a desire to visit lands that are strange and to enjoy sights that are rare, yet he must have succeeded in vanquishing the thoughts which suggest that there is no place like home, and which represent it as the merest folly to sacrifice domestic ease for the fatigues, troubles, and privations which are inseparable from the life of a wanderer.

Our caravan was joined on its way by a company of Ghattas’s from Dangadduloo, conducted by a stout Dinka, whose acquaintance I had already made at the Seriba where he resided. His party consisted of 500 bearers and 120 soldiers, and they contemplated, in conjunction with a part of Aboo Sammat’s people, undertaking an expedition into the ivory district of Keefa. That district was shut out from Ghattas’s by the fact of the road towards it being the property of Aboo Sammat: according to a convention entered into by the Nubians, a caravan of one company was not to traverse a region appropriated by another, unless an alliance for that purpose was made between the two. As the result of this compact, it had come to pass that no less than fifteen different roads, corresponding to the same number of different merchant houses in Khartoom, branched out towards the south and west from the localities of the Seribas into the remotest lands of the Niam-niam.

Wherever two of these roadways intersect, a serious collision between the parties concerned is almost certain to ensue. Any conductor of an expedition is sure to endeavour to get the monopoly of all the ivory into his own hands. The various native chieftains are prohibited from disposing of their produce to any other agent than himself—​a demand which is enforced by violence—​and rival companies are intimidated by threats of action for trespass; in fact, no pains are spared to assert a right as vigorously as possible.

MITTOO BEARERS.

An agreement had now been made according to which the leader of Ghattas’s caravan was to accompany Aboo Sammat’s expedition as far as his establishments in the Niam-niam lands, and afterwards was to be allowed the protection of a military detachment to proceed towards the west, Aboo Sammat himself having resolved to carry on his own main body in the direction of the south. The bearers of the Ghattas party from the east were all Mittoo, a tribe that is of much weaker frame and less capable of sustaining fatigue than the Bongo, so that by the time that they had reached Sabby, although it was only about four days’ march, they had already a considerable number of invalids. Aboo Sammat’s intention this year was to make his first experiment with the Mittoo from the territories he had recently gained, and to try to employ them as bearers in this enterprise among the Niam-niam. To be a bearer is a service which demands a kind of apprenticeship, and no one without practice is fitted for the continual strain and endurance which it requires. The representations, moreover, which had been made to these inexperienced Mittoo, both about the nature of the country they would have to traverse and the cannibal propensities of the people with whom they would be brought in contact, acted so powerfully upon them that it was only under compulsion that they could be made to enter upon the service at all. While, therefore, the Bongo bearers were to be relied upon, and looked forward blithely to any fatigues that might be before them, the Mittoo had to be scrupulously watched, and by night to be carefully secured within the bounds of the palisade to prevent their effecting an escape. On the very evening before we started from Sabby a number of them ventured upon a combination to revolt, and, in fact, got free into the open country. By the assistance of the Bongo they were captured after an hour’s hard chase, brought back into the Seriba, placed under closer guardianship, and for a punishment were made to wear all night the yoke of the “shaba,” which is ordinarily placed on the necks of slaves.

Swelling the numbers of our caravans there was a whole troop of women and female slaves, and a crowd of negro lads who followed the soldiers to carry their equipments. There was in addition a large herd of cattle which the Ghattas party had plundered from the Dinka, and which they drove with them to maintain themselves when they came to enter upon the desolation of the desert. Aboo Sammat, never rich in cattle, because he did not, in the same way as his neighbours, indulge in plundering the Dinka, had certainly made no superfluous provision for the needs of his people; but for myself there was an abundant supply of calves, sheep, and goats still remaining from the liberal presents that had been made me in Mvolo during my excursion to the Rohl. Whenever an animal was killed, I invariably shared the meat with the Nubians, and they were always ready to return the favour as often as they slaughtered any of their own. My people’s necessities were thus supplied, whilst personally I was continually provided by Aboo Sammat with the choicest morsels as long as there was any choice to be made. But where property fails, even Cæsar must forego his rights; and days of scarcity did arrive, when for my servants there was nothing, and for myself there was next to nothing, to be had.

It will readily be imagined that for a colony of nearly 800 people a start in single file was not effected in a moment: it was quite midday before I commenced any movement at all. Several days had to elapse, and no little patience had to be tried, before things fell into anything like regularity. Of all men in the world, perhaps the Nubians are the most disorderly. Method is altogether alien to their nature; they loathe it after the unshackled freedom they are accustomed to indulge; they have no idea of any advantages arising from mutual co-operation, and accordingly they look upon any approach to order only as a token of individual bondage.

MANAGING THE NUBIANS.

Amongst a body of men actuated by such sentiments, any thought of discipline, according to our ideas, is entirely out of the question. Only that master can at all hope to succeed in exercising any authority who understands how to get upon the weak side of their character. By this means he may perchance attain what he wants in a way which a Turk, even by the extremest severity, could never accomplish. He may prevail, for instance, by slipping in at the right time an allusion to brotherhood, or by an appeal to honour and to the value of one’s word; or he may invoke the religious sentiment by reminding the Nubian of his being a Mohammedan, “Thou art a Moslem;” or again, by holding out a bribe, such as a fresh slave or a good payment, he may reduce a cantankerous spirit to subjection; but whatever is done has to be effected craftily and with a good deal of insinuation and gentle coaxing. No one understood all these artifices better than Aboo Sammat, who was utterly regardless of all consequences and could behave like a perfect tyrant as soon as ever he had established a control. On account of my own position amongst the Nubians I had to renounce most of these little artifices, but, nevertheless, I had my own special resources. A piece of wit, brought to bear at the right place and at the right time, very seldom failed to be of essential service. Although a capacity for appreciating wit must in a way be considered local and limited in its compass, yet it hardly admits of dispute that there is no nation of the world entirely without its sense of humour. The botanist Fortune, who made his laborious investigations in China, has left it upon record that he only succeeded by mother-wit in gaining access to a people which had previously resisted every effort towards the least familiar intercourse with them. A faculty of bantering a little may be of considerable service to assist the progress of a traveller; and I may, perhaps, be allowed to relate what follows as an instance of the mode in which I attempted to proceed, and the example, perchance, may give a trifling hint to those who may be disposed to follow in my wake.

I will assume that there was going to be some contention or other between me and my people, as, for instance, that I had determined to go to some particular mountain, and they held it as utterly useless to go and camp in a desert while they had the chance of staying and enjoying their merissa among their friends. Very rarely in Egypt do people exchange a few words with one another without introducing the term “ya Sheikh” as a mode of allocution. Even a father talking to his son of a few years old will address him as “ya Sheikh.” In Nubia the habit is not quite so general, but is common enough to be familiar and to be entirely understood. Now, one of my people had once taken umbrage at the word being addressed to him, and in ill-tempered pique he had repudiated the term, saying “Don’t sheikh me; I am no sheikh.” I thought to myself that he should hear of this again; and hear of it again he did.

Some weeks elapsed, and by chance an occasion arose when we were discussing about a certain mountain, whether it were too far off or too high for us to ascend. One of my party was arguing and trying to satisfy the other, who was our cantankerous friend of old, and happened to begin one of his appeals to him by saying “ya Sheikh.” This was my chance; so I cried out, “O don’t sheikh him. Twice he has himself told me that he is no sheikh; he is a lout. If he were a sheikh, he would go with us to the mountain; but, because he is a lout, he likes to stay behind and sip his beer.” A general laugh of applause followed my little sally, and the joke was hailed with a round of derision against the captious booby. This trifling circumstance, perhaps, may illustrate the mode of dealing which appeared to answer best, and I hope needs no excuse for the length at which it is related.

Delay upon delay prevented our making a start, and Nubian-like we consumed the day in getting ready. When the caravan did issue from the Seriba, it proceeded, according to the usage of the country, under the conduct of a banner carried ahead. The armed force was portioned out in three divisions, each of which had its own flag. Aboo Sammat’s banner was like the Turks’; it had the crescent and the star upon a red ground: Ghattas, although he was a Christian, displayed the same symbol of Islam, only red upon a white ground. At the start, two captains, Ahmed and Badry, were put in charge. Of these I had already made the acquaintance of the latter, during my excursion to the Rohl. Aboo Sammat himself, as I have mentioned, had arranged, with the third corps, to join the caravan somewhat later.

BANNER OF ISLAM.

At the outset of any expedition, whether it be a movement to the river, a raid upon the cattle of the Dinka, or an excursion to the Niam-niam, it is deemed an indispensable preliminary that a sheep should be offered in sacrifice at the entrance of the Seriba. When this has been accomplished, the procession is prepared to start, and the standard-bearer lowers his flag over the victim, so that the border of it may just touch the blood, and afterwards there is the usual muttering of prayers. In truth, the banner of Islam is a banner of blood. Bloodthirsty are the verses which are inscribed upon its white texture; a very garland of cruel fanaticism and stern intolerance is woven in the sentences from the Koran which, in the name of the merciful God, declare war against all who deny the faith that there is one God and that Mohammed is his prophet, and which assert that his enemies shall perish from the face of the earth.

The sun was already in the zenith when we found our way to the arid steppes; the heat was scorching, but I enjoyed having my dogs about me, barking for joy at their liberation from the confinement of the Seriba. Very memorable to me is still that day on which I took this first decisive step towards the attainment of my cherished hopes. I thought of that moonlight night as I left Khartoom, when upon the glassy mirror of the White Nile I had kept my vigil of excited interest, and now here I was making a still more decisive movement and entering upon a still more important section of my enterprise. Now, there was nothing to obstruct me from penetrating to the heart of Africa far as my feet could carry me; now, as Mohammed said, I could advance to the “world’s end,” and he would convey me on till even I should acknowledge that we had gone far enough. But unfortunately my vision of hope was doomed to be dispelled. Just at the moment when curiosity was strained to its highest expectation, at the very time when scientific ardour was kindled to go on into the very depths of the mysterious interior, we were compelled to return. Had we only been enabled to prosecute our journey as far again towards the south, I do not entertain a doubt but that I should have been in a condition to solve the problem of the sources of those three great rivers of the west, the Benwe, the Ogowai, and the Congo.

Upon the first day’s march we only proceeded a few miles and camped out beside the little stream Tudyee, of which the deeply-hollowed bed was divided into two separate arms. In one of these arms a languid current was passing on, but in the other, which was perfectly dry, I took my repose for the remainder of the day, under the shade of a grateful shrubbery which overhung its recesses. The revelry of a camp life was not wanting; meat in abundance was boiled, roasted, and broiled, and the festivity extended far into the night. As is ever the case on the first encampment, the proximity to the settlements with their ample provisions enables it to assume the aspect of a picnic.

The most valuable portion of my luggage was conveyed in twelve small portmanteaus, carefully covered with hides: the remnant was carried in chests and baskets. The rolls of paper were wrapped in sheets of calico, which I had well soaked in fresh caoutchouc. I continued to experience the great comfort of having my baggage conveyed by hand, so that I had access at any stage of our progress to whatever I required. It was hardly necessary to keep anything under lock and key, for nothing could be stolen that would not at once betray the thief. Everything was therefore open, and consequently very little time comparatively was lost in preparing for the daily start. There was only one thing to be guarded against, and that was the propensity of the bearers to turn the packages upside down. It was necessary in this particular to be always jogging the memory of the Bongo, who would reply “mawah,” (I hear) and so everything would go safely along, over sloughs and brooks and marshes, and across the steppes reeking with dew, wherever the leader might desire.

TRAVELLING COSTUME.

Anxious to reach the village of the Bongo sheikh Ngoly, we made a prolonged march on the next day. Proceeding through the most southerly of the districts occupied by the Bongo, we kept still in the region that belonged to Aboo Sammat. An hour or more before sunrise, as is usual with these caravans, a general réveil was sounded by drums and trumpets, and a meal was made on the remains of the previous night’s feast, as no halt was to be allowed for breakfast. A collection of plants, however, has to be carefully handled, and while my people were strapping up the packages, and the bearers and soldiers were forming their line, I found a quiet half-hour to prepare myself a cup of tea, and to arrange all my little matters for travelling. For the European traveller no article of apparel is better adapted than an old-fashioned waistcoat, with as many pockets as possible, into which a watch, a compass, a note-book, a tinder-box with some matches, and other articles of continual use may be stowed. A coat of any sort, however light, becomes a burden upon a walking expedition; about the arms it always uncomfortably obstructs the perspiration. A strong felt hat with a broad brim is the best protection for the head; it is preferable to the Turkish cap, but on account of the intense power of the rays of the sun it cannot be worn immediately next the head. It cannot have anything below it better than the red fez, which never requires to be taken off; when rest is taken under the shade of some spreading tree, it is quite sufficient to remove merely the felt hat.

The march was through a pleasant park-like country, and after crossing a considerable number of fordable rivulets, we arrived about midday at the huts of Ngoly. At Ngoly, over a surface of about eight square miles, we found various groves of the Terminalia macroptera, having very much the look of a wood of European oaks. In these regions any continuance of a single species of tree or plant is very rare, and the bush-forests are generally remarkable for the great diversity of species which is found on a limited area. The Terminalia is to be classed amongst that small number of trees of which regular groves, in what we call forests, rise to the view. It grows, as may readily be observed, upon the gentle depressions of a soil sufficiently rich, but which is yet too dry for the formation of the tall grass of the steppes, being watered only by currents which are formed during the rains, and of which we crossed the remnants during the dry months of winter. Between lat. 5° and 3° N., in the longitude under which we were travelling, the equatorial zone of the continual rainfall decidedly suffers an interruption, and the zenith altitudes of the sun cannot be said to bear a due proportion to the largest annual fall of rain.

The forests of the Terminalia are remarkable for the general deficiency of undergrowth or bushwood which they exhibit, a circumstance that arises from the general inability of woody plants to endure so moist a soil. The large proportion of the trees and shrubs of the country thrive much better in the rocky regions of the ironstone, and if ever a grove establishes itself where the ground is wet, it soon gets as clear of undergrowth as though all had been taken away by the hand of man, and ere long it assumes quite a northern aspect.

VOLUNTEER HUNTSMEN.

The landscape in Africa presents to a large extent examples of trees which only cast off their foliage fitfully. In contrast to these, the Terminalia annually throws off all its leaves as soon as the rains are over, and throughout our winter months it is perfectly bare. It grows to a height of about thirty or forty feet, and by its deeply-scored black bark and the general character of its ramifications, it may be said to be not unlike the glutinous alder of the north.

I passed the afternoon in a charming wood chasing the hartebeests (Antilope caama) which were abundant everywhere over this attractive hunting-ground. Their leather-coloured coats stood out in glaring contrast to the dark tree-stems; but the lack of underwood left our extensive encampment so thoroughly exposed, that the animals took alarm betimes, and were difficult to reach. Accordingly after an hour’s fatigue, I had to content myself (as would happen again and again) with a number of guinea-fowl, which were a never-failing and never-palling contribution to our cuisine. On all my hunting excursions I invariably found myself accompanied by a regular troop of people who made the chase a matter of great difficulty, but who nevertheless considered their services indispensable. My own three negroes carried the portfolios for the plants, and my rifles; but from the bearers there was always a swarm of volunteers who came to act as pointers, prompted to their extra exertions, partly from a desire to get the lion’s share of what might fall, and partly from that irrepressible love of hunting which seemed indigenous to their very nature.

As a matter of botanical interest I observed the frequency with which the wild Phœnix occurs in the low district all around Ngoly. Most probably this is the parent-stock of the date-palm; the time in which its fruit is here ripe is the month of July.

Up betimes on the morning of our third day’s march, I took my place at the front of our caravan, close behind the standard-bearer, in the hope of getting near enough to secure a shot at some hartebeest that might be taken by surprise. In the woods the animals could be seen in numbers as great as on the previous evening; they skulked behind the black stems of the trees, keeping a vigilant look-out, but as soon as anyone attempted to leave the procession and approach them, off they were with a bound, and scampering away in a zigzag career, regained the wilderness.

For a full hour the way proceeded through the wood, and then we entered a low-lying steppe which brought us to the running water of the little river Teh or Tee. As we approached we saw a herd of buffaloes betake themselves to flight, and, snorting and brandishing their tails, dash into the stream; these brutes, however, are here as elsewhere quite easily surprised by an adept. Flowing rather rapidly, the Teh is between twenty and thirty feet in breadth, and passes along wooded banks which gave me my first introduction to the flora of the Niam-niam. The botanical treasures of this district, I may venture perhaps to call the “bank or gallery flora,” in contradistinction to that extensive class of vegetation which predominates over the wide steppes around. Large Scitamineæ contribute an essential feature, and there is an Oncoba which bears upon its leafless wood blossoms that are conspicuous for their numerous stamens. This Oncoba is here found in its most northerly abode, but its growth is wide-spread as far as Benguela.

Unfortunately there was little leisure for me to enjoy this attractive entrée to the flora of the land. We had to hurry on, and passed quickly into a region where the tall unburnt grass made the route indistinguishable to all but an expert, and where it was impossible to see more than a few paces in advance.

VALLEY OF THE MONGOLONGBOH.

By perseverance we reached a bare and extensive rocky plain developing itself into the depression of a valley along which the stream of the Mongolongboh cuts its winding path. The rock is all composed of red ironstone, very frequently of that coarse and large-grained quality which is technically known as roe-stone. These flats of red rock are common all through the districts south of the great alluvial territory of the Dinka which is watered by the Gazelle and its various tributaries. They are often, for leagues together, level as the surface of a table, scarcely ever revealing a rift, and very rarely worn away into hollows. When, however, any of these depressions are found, they are always sure to be full of most interesting specimens of a periodic vegetation.

Our next halting-place was elope by the water-side under the shade of some noble trees, in which a merry troop of monkeys were frisking. As we arrived before midday, I had an opportunity of taking a ramble in the neighbourhood. For some miles round, the region was entirely uninhabited, and the utmost desolation prevailed. None of the traces of any previous occupation could be seen—​none, I mean, of the peculiar weeds which will survive where there has been any cultivation; everywhere there was only bushwood and steppe, except just in the spots where the stone flats were on the surface or where the ground rose into hills, enclosing the valley along which the Mongolongboh wound its course. There was a fine panorama of the vale from the top of the hills, and many a group of antelopes enlivened the general stillness of the scene. My attention was arrested by a plant which was new to me and characteristic of the region; this was the little Protea, which occasionally formed complete hedges, bearing a resemblance to the class of vegetation which is found in the south of Africa, but which is very rarely met with in any northern portion of the continent.

Ahmed, the temporary leader of our caravan, had made arrangements to start again immediately after noon, at the same time announcing that we could not expect to be able to reach any place supplied with water at which we could pass the next night. This statement was quite contrary to the declaration of those who knew the way, and on the following day was refuted. Ahmed, however, persisted in his opinion, and, in his own Nubian fashion, said that he was ready to be pronounced a liar by any one who could disprove the truth of what he said. Wranglings of this sort went on day after day, and occasioned me some disquietude and misgiving.

A gathering storm compelled us to put forth all our energies, by way of precaution, to protect the baggage. The dark clouds rolled towards us, and the encampment was all bustle and alarm. By good chance, however, the storm passed on over our heads, and we had only a few heavy drops of rain. Since the end of last November this was the first day on which any rain at all had fallen. As often as we were threatened with wet, and time did not permit us to erect our tent, I made my baggage as secure as I could, by piling wood and layers of stone upon it, and covering the whole with great sheets of waterproof twill.

Long before sunrise on the 1st of February we had quitted our encampment, hastening our movements through a fear, which was altogether groundless, of there being a deficiency of water. Encompassed by hills, we marched along rising ground, and by the time that the morning light had dawned, we found ourselves at an elevation of about 500 feet above the valley of the Mongolongboh, and with a prospect open before us towards the south, much more extensive than we had hitherto enjoyed. The ridges of hills ran from east to west, and the peaks right and left of the path by which we were proceeding were called by our leaders Mbala Ngeea. Looking to the south we could see a thickly-wooded vale several miles across, and beyond this were two terraces diverging towards the west, which were made conspicuous by the contrast in their colour. The dark blue ridges which were more remote in the S.S.W. were pointed out as the district of Nganye, and the residence of the first Niam-niam chief whom we should have to visit. Before us in the valley there was visible the low ground of the Lehssy, which, in the lower part of its course, is called Doggoroo by the Bongo; whilst only separated from the Lehssy by a range of little hills, there was still beyond the broad and fertile valley watered by the Upper Tondy, which here receives the name of the Ibba. Among the Bongo its name is simply Bah, i.e. the river, just as the local population of Baghirmi call the Shary, a further evidence of the relationship which exists between the people.

FOLIAGE OF KOBBO-TREES.

We now descended from the heights and arrived at the Mah, of which the flat bed caused a number of broad pools of water to obstruct our way. This was the water that gave the lie to Ahmed’s statement. Along undulating terraces we next reached a wood, which consisted for the most part of wide stretches of kobbo-trees (Humboldtia), which gave a light but welcome shadiness to our path. The height attained by these Cæsalpineæ is generally about forty feet. They are to be admired for their fine feathery foliage, and for the size of the seed-vessels which hang from the boughs. During the drought of the winter season, when the herbage was short, or had altogether perished through the burning of the steppes, they sent out young sprouts graceful as the main stem itself, which were a charming ornament to the woods. The colour of the tender leaves sported from a bright moss-green to the richest purple, each leaflet being not less than two feet long. The magnitude of the leaves gives a peculiar feature to the woods, which flourish freely on the upper terraces of the district, the steppes in the depressed vale around being marshy and quite destitute of trees.

Making a fresh ascent, we passed upon our left one of those insulated elevations of gneiss which are so frequent in these regions, and which, as they lie scattered and weather-beaten over the plain, have all the indication of being the remains of some upheaving of the hills above the general level of the ferruginous swamp-ore around. The shape which these islands of gneiss most generally assume is that of a spherically-arched mound, here about 200 feet in height; and of this I saw some thirty examples in different parts during the course of my wanderings. A group of stately hartebeests was parading upon the summit, and surveyed from the distance of half a league the progress of our caravan as it wound its way along the bushy paths. By midday we had reached the Lehssy, and camped upon a flat of gneiss which the waters at their height had washed. At the present season of the year the stream pursued its course beneath the soil, but it had left a considerable number of water-pools, some of them a hundred paces long, and from forty to fifty feet wide, which, overhung as they were by shading bushwood, abounded in fish, especially barbel. By means of small shot I was able to secure a good many of these; and in a country like this where an agricultural life necessitates a residence remote from the river-plains, and where fresh fish is with difficulty preserved on account of the heat, such a catch is invaluable; it is welcomed as a dainty, and makes a most desirable change in the wearisome routine of the daily diet.

The splendid Afzelia-trees which overshadowed the Lehssy gave an additional charm to this halting-place, which was abundantly supplied with water that was as bright as it was refreshing. The level surface of the gneiss answered the double purpose of couches on which to sleep and tables on which to eat. Upon the shadowy banks one of the Anonaceæ, the Hexalobus, grows extensively, exhibiting its long tufted flowers, and breathing forth its pungent vanilla-like aroma; the petals, in colour and appearance, resemble little fragments of tape-worm, and are quite unlike any other known plant.

Continually was the repose of night again broken by the incessant chattering or singing of the Nubians, who ever chose the night-time for their hilarity, and in consequence were all day long as sleepy and lazy as they could be. All at once, when everyone was asleep, they would start up, and as a freak fire a feu de joie, startling the nocturnal silence by the whistling of their balls. Even the negroes did not sleep around their fires undisturbed. Under cover of the night every one took care to look after his own individual needs, and to enjoy the morsels that he had contrived to gather in the day-time; and many a tit-bit carefully concealed from the eyes of others all the day, was secretly consumed by the hungry fellows in the dead of night.

AN EXHAUSTED BEARER.

On the following morning I was one of the hindmost of the caravan, and proceeded in the company of Ahmed, our guide, and a few stragglers. We had passed two or three watercourses, overhung with copse wood and now quite dry, when we came upon a Mittoo bearer, exhausted by his journey, lying by the wayside. He was a poor withered, consumptive creature, and seemed as if he were pretty near his last gasp. The other bearers had taken his burden from him, and, conscious that he could not carry it farther, had spoken a few cheering words and left him to his fate. By a fair day’s walking it was just possible he might regain his home, provided he could keep clear of the prowling lions on his way; but lions, it is known, have a remarkable scent for a poor lone and helpless man. Let a poor fellow be sick or wounded, and he incurs a double danger. Meanwhile, the people who were with me were all discussing the matter in their own way; they could not agree whether the poor wretch were really ill, or whether he was making pretence, and not a few of them declared that no sooner would he have the chance than he would be off homewards as nimbly as a hare. Ahmed at this point put in his word, and observed that a day’s journey farther in advance, the man would never have ventured upon being left behind by his company, for fear of finding his way to the caldrons of the Niam-niam. This observation of his immediately turned the conversation to the subject of the cannibalism of that people, of which I was far from being convinced.

I mentioned that Piaggia had resided a whole year among the Niam-niam without witnessing a single instance of the practice. Ahmed replied that Piaggia had only visited the district of Tombo, where the people were nothing like so bad as they were here in the east, and he asserted that I should only have to wait for a few days before proof strong enough would be opened to my eyes. He went so far as to declare, nay, he swore hard and fast, that he knew a case in which some bearers, who had died from fatigue on the way, had been buried, and that in the interval of his going and returning, their graves had been reopened. Naturally I objected to this statement, that only the day before he had branded himself as a liar, and that consequently his word deserved no confidence; he persisted, however, in his affirmation, and went on to argue that it was not possible that it was any beast that had disturbed the graves; stones had been removed to get at the corpses that they wanted. “Yes,” he added, “and I have myself seen them eat foul flesh,—​vile, stinking, putrid flesh;” and as he spoke he made grimaces so horrid, that they had every sign of being the expression of a sincere abhorrence. Poor Ahmed! I can think I see him still upon those rocks, expressing his emotion by the gestures of his hands. I can even now hear the vehemence of his oaths. Poor Ahmed I as though he were to be the very first of victims to his own belief, within a few weeks he fell in a mêlée, his body could not be found on the scene of conflict, and where should it by any possibility have gone, except into the stomachs of the Niam-niam?

Farther onwards our progress was very much impeded by the high masses of dry grass which had escaped destruction when the steppes were burned. In the path, which is a mere narrow rift in the steppes, made by those in front forcing themselves through, grass-stems abound so hard and firm, that they are as unyielding as the stubble of a sorghum-field, and make a most disagreeable obstruction in the way. The chain of hills over which we had crossed the day before constitutes the present boundary between the hunting-grounds of the Bongo and the Niam-niam. Indications, however, are not wanting that until a few years ago, the country quite up to the base of the hills had been occupied by the Niam-niam; at present the first district of this people is reached at the farther bank of the Ibba. As we continued our march, we observed a number of half-burnt posts belonging to their huts, and every here and there amidst the grass, there were the remnants of the great wooden drums, which never fail in any village of this people.

A BATH IN THE IBBA.

At noon we arrived at the Ibba, as I have said the Upper Tondy here is named. About a hundred feet in breadth, but only three feet deep, it offers no difficulty in the way of being forded. The water was running from east to west at the rate of sixty feet a minute, and many blocks of gneiss were lying in the river-bed, which was bounded by gradually ascending banks. I found some deep water beneath a line of overhanging trees, and thoroughly enjoyed a refreshing bath; it was my mishap, however, to experience an inconvenience which occurred to me again more than once in the course of my travels. Half-an-hour I had to wait for my clothes, which had been carried off by the mistake of one of my servants, and taken to the caravan. In my position it was impossible to avoid the heat of the sun, and the skin of an European is too sensitive to endure without mischief a temperature which at the very least was 80° Fahr. in the shade, the ordinary heat of the district in a locality well shaded, but quite open to the influence of the wind.

Upon the southern side of the river were the first cultivated lands of the Niam-niam that we had yet seen, and which at that time were lying fallow. Shortly afterwards the ground suddenly rose for some hundred feet. The universal Sorghum is here the prevailing crop, but farther on it is in a very large degree replaced by Eleusine.

We next found ourselves upon the territory of a tolerably rich chieftain, named Nganye, who was on very friendly terms with Aboo Sammat. Meanwhile, for the first mile or two after we left the river, we observed that all the inhabitants vacated their abodes. The name of the superintendent of the district was Peneeo. In all regions like this, where the greater fear happened to be on the side of the natives, the same behaviour was repeated, and very often was accommodating to both parties. In these cases the people with their wives and children, their dogs and poultry, their guitars, their baskets, their pots and pans, and all their household articles, make off to the thickest parts of the steppes, which have been spared from the fire and reserved for elephant hunting; there they hide themselves in an obscurity which only the eye of a bird could penetrate. It will not rarely happen that they are betrayed simply by the cackling of their fowls.

Some of Mohammed’s soldiers, who had been sent on in front, returned and brought us tidings of welcome from Nganye, whose residence we hoped to reach on the following day. We found ourselves, however, already very comfortable, as Peneeo, the chief of the district, or Behnky,[44] had likewise, as Nganye’s representative, paid us his compliments; he had brought a supply of corn for the bearers, and a lot of poultry as a present to myself. In his retinue were a number of men, who, although they were not unlike the score of Niam-niam that I had seen at Sabby, yet here in their own home had an appearance singularly wild and warlike.

POPUKKY-GRASS.

With their black poodle crops of hair, and the eccentric tufts and pigtails on their heads, they afforded a spectacle which to me was infinitely novel and surprising. Amongst the hundreds of Bongo and Mittoo, with whom the Dinka were associated as drovers, these creatures stood out like beings of another world; here were genuine, unmistakeable Niam-niam, neither circumcised nor crop-headed, such as other travellers have seen either in Khartoom or in the Seribas; here they were, presenting all the features of wildness which the most vivid Oriental imagination could conceive; a people of a marked and most distinct nationality, and that in Africa and amongst Africans is saying much.

Pursuing our route on the following day, we passed along a country that was very undulated, and led through many deeply cut defiles which ran down to the river. For three leagues we kept making a stiff ascent over fallow land, until we arrived at the settlement of Nganye. In consequence of the early rains and that which had fallen in the previous night, the ground had become quite soft, and a multitude of those plants which put forth their blossoms before their leaves had sprouted up. Grass so strong and so thick I have never elsewhere seen, as what I saw in this region. Subsequently I penetrated much farther on, and saw the high grass of the southern districts in the height of the rainy season, but on returning in the month of June, I could not suppress my astonishment at the enormous growth which here the grass attained. The dry stalks, in their height and thickness like reeds on a river-bank, are intentionally protected by the natives from destruction when the steppes are burned: and whenever there seems a chance of driving up a herd of elephants, the steppe-burning is only partial, and done in patches. The strongest of these permanent grasses is a species of panicum which the Niam-niam call “popukky.” The haulm of this attains a height of fifteen feet, and becomes almost as hard as wood, and as thick as a man’s finger. Cut crosswise its section is not circular, but a compressed oval, its colour being a bright golden yellow. At its lower end it is not hollow like a reed, but quite compact in substance, and if I wanted to make pipe-stems of it, I was obliged first of all to bore right through its length. Of this popukky the Niam-niam construct some very serviceable doors for their huts, and some mats, which they lay upon the ground and use for beds.

Whenever masses of grass of this nature are set on fire, the elephants have no possible escape from certain death. The destruction is carried on by wholesale. Thousands of huntsmen and drivers are gathered together from far and wide by means of signals sounded on the huge wooden drums. Everyone who is capable of bearing arms at all is converted into a huntsman, just as everyone becomes a soldier when the national need demands. No resource for escape is left to the poor brutes. Driven by the flames into masses, they huddle together young and old, they cover their bodies with grass, on which they pump water from their trunks as long as they can, but all in vain. They are ultimately either suffocated by the clouds of smoke, or overpowered by the heat, or are so miserably burnt that at last and ere long they succumb to the cruel fate that has been designed for them by ungrateful man. The coup de grâce may now and then be given them by the blow of some ready lance, but too often, as may be seen from the tusks that are bought, the miserable beasts must have perished in the agonies of a death by fire. A war of annihilation is this, in which neither young nor old, neither the female nor the male, is spared, and in its indiscriminate slaughter it compels us sorrowfully to ask and answer the question “Cui bono?” No other reply seems possible but what is given by the handles of our walking-sticks, our billiard balls, our pianoforte keys, our combs and our fans, and other unimportant articles of this kind. No wonder, therefore, if this noble creature, whose services might be so invaluable to man, should even, perhaps some time during our own generation, be permitted to rank in the category of the things that have been, and to be as extinct as the ure-ox, the sea-cow, or the dodo.

Niam-niam in full dress.

ARRIVAL AT A MBANGA.

Fatiguing enough we found our progress through the towering grass. The path was narrow, and it was very necessary to plant one’s foot firmly upon the stalks to avoid stumbling on the way. At length towards noon we arrived at the head-quarters of the chieftain, a residence which, in the language of the country, is called his “mbanga.”

I found myself at once encircled by the natives, who came streaming in to see for themselves the white man of whom already they had heard so much. It was my own first opportunity of seeing the Niam-niam in the reality of their natural life. As became a people with whom hunting is a prominent feature in their pursuits, they were girded with skins. High upon their extensively-dressed hair they wore straw-hats covered with feathers and cowries, and fastened on by means of long bodkins of iron or copper. Their chocolate-coloured skin was painted in stripes, like those of the tiger, with the juice of the Blippo (Gardenia malleifera).

Coiffure of the Niam-niam.

COURT OF A NIAM-NIAM POTENTATE.

Whilst I was reposing beneath an awning that had been put up as a shelter from the sun, the natives bestowed upon me such a prolonged and decided stare that I had ample opportunity for transferring a few of their portraits to my sketch-book.[45] In the early evening I paid my respects to Nganye, the resident prince. His abode consisted of a collection of huts, some larger than others, which he had assigned to his body-guard, and to the wives and children of his closest associates. The mbanga of a prince may be known at once by the numerous shields that are hung upon the trees and posts in its vicinity, and by the troop of picked men, fully equipped, who act as sentinels, and are at hand night and day to perform any requisite service. Military expeditions, surprises, conspiracies for murder, are here the order of the day, but frequently other and better employments will arise to engage them—​as, for instance, when the discovery is announced that a herd of elephants is in the neighbourhood. Then the signals must be sounded, and everyone without delay must be summoned, the occurrence being recognised as of national importance, for there is the chance of securing many hundredweights of ivory, and perchance ten times the weight of meat.

The shields are woven in pretty patterns of intermingled black and white, and are lined with royal leopard-skins. They are fastened by means of an iron knob on the inner side to the “trumbash” (an iron missile with three large projections), and altogether form really a striking sight.

Very modest in its pretensions was the court of this negro prince, and it had little to distinguish it from the huts of the ordinary mortals who had their homes around. The huts were circular, and had conical roofs which were unusually high and pointed, and were probably constructed to throw off the rain outside, as well as to allow for the dispersion of the smoke which was caused by the fire below. Surrounded by a dozen women, who with some household slaves superintended the tillage of the royal domain, Nganye had every appearance of enjoying a peaceful—​nay, it may be said, an idyllic—​existence.

I found him perfectly naked except for a little apron that he wore. He was sitting on a Monbuttoo stool, quite unarmed, and with no insignia whatever of his rank. There were, indeed, some twenty or thirty natives who were armed and kept guard in the outer court, but apart from this any pretension to state was entirely wanting. By means of my two interpreters I contrived to keep up a long conversation which I found interesting enough. I was made acquainted without reserve with all the details of Nganye’s family, and with all the particulars of his home administration. It was much that I came to him as a friend of Aboo Sammat’s. Aboo Sammat was to him a friendly neighbour, who brought to him as his chief an annual contribution of copper, beads, and stuffs; and the prince in return stored up for Aboo Sammat’s purchase all the ivory which the year’s exertions had secured. As regarded my own native land he did not exhibit the remotest curiosity; concerning the design and object of my journey no particle of interest betrayed itself in anything that he said nor in any question that he asked; and a similar remark may be made with respect to all the chieftains with whom I happened to be brought in contact. As everywhere else in Africa, a welcome is here given by reaching out the right hand; the middle fingers are joined and jerked together until they snap and crack again.

Whilst the cannibal magnate and myself were thus in solemn conference, and were ever regarding one another with that reverence which befits the representatives of noble communities, my retinue was being entertained with roast buffalo meat served up in pretty carved dishes. There was nothing palatable that could have been placed before me, and although Nganye, as subsequently Wando and Munza, accepted food from me, I never did from them. It is extremely unusual for Nubians and natives to take any meals in common, not so much from any religious scruple, but simply because it has never been the custom. In front of me, however, was placed a great clay vessel with four necks full of Niam-niam beer brewed from eleusine, which my Nubians enjoyed thoroughly as being stronger than anything they can get in their own country.

I presented Nganye with a great many necklaces of garnet-beads of the kind which had been prepared for the East Indian market. My own collection included no sorts except those which were quite novel in this country, having been provided not at all for the purpose of merchandise, but with the express object of making presents. Out of compliment to me, Nganye always wore my gifts as long as we remained in his locality, but, in the same way as other chieftains, he at other times systematically abstained from adorning himself with any foreign trinkets.

EFFECT OF RAIN.

On the night of the 3rd of February some rain again fell, but it was not heavy enough to penetrate the grass coverings that we had improvised for our baggage. This was the third occasion on which we had now had rain, and although the fall had been very insignificant, in fact scarcely a quarter of an inch, yet the effect was so great as to be almost magical. Its influence alike upon the thirsty earth and withered steppes was very wondrous, and the sprouting stalks of grass bore ample witness to the invigoration that it brought.

A broad valley, alternately steppe and cultivated land, spread itself out around the residence of Nganye, and through its midst there wound a watercourse which now was dry. Over this we made our way; and mounting the opposite acclivity, proceeded one league onwards to the west, thus for the time reversing our previous progress. Black and barren were the burnt steppes at this season, when the elephant-hunting was all over, and they were unrelieved as yet by any vegetation. Literally our feet trod upon the embers of the burnt grass, very much to the detriment of my own white costume, and involving a large consumption of my soap that had been so laboriously procured from oil of sesame, burnt wood, and oyster-shells. Around the base of the charred bushes there were little lines of green where the young sprouting herbage broke through the earth, and now and then some opening blossom would give an unexpected beauty to the scene. It almost seemed as if these early-blooming children of Flora had been waiting for a few drops of the rain that they might escape from the womb with the remnant of the sap which it had yet to give. Upon the general gloomy aspect of the landscape these rare scattered blooms of course could make no impression; it was needful to seek for them, and bend low to find them; they were modest as the violet which seems to hide itself by the wayside, and yet has charm enough to detain the passer-by.

A charming walk of two leagues and a half brought us to a subsidiary holding of Nganye’s, named after its superintendent Gumba. The villages of the district were abundant in corn, and afforded too welcome a chance for the hungry bearers to resist making there their halting-place; the prospect, moreover, of brimming beer-flasks had its wonted attraction with the Nubians. The goal was full in view; a little ridge of hills beckoned hospitably from afar, and immediately beyond were the broad acres of cultivated land which belonged, to Gumba.

A region was this which rarely failed to supply charming halting-places, and we could take our noontide rest in shady yet breezy positions beneath the spreading trees. The tamarind, however, which hitherto had thrown over us its pleasant canopy during our way along the lonely desert, now failed entirely, and I saw it again no further to the south; so also Mungo Park’s butter-tree, which had been so prominent a feature upon the red soil of the Bongo and the Dyoor, now disappeared completely from the scene; but on the other hand there were here displayed as much as in the northern latitudes the Parkia, the Afzelia, the Vitex, the fig, and the Khaya, whilst with these there were intermingled many new and striking forms of incomparable beauty.

A NIAM-NIAM MINSTREL.

COLOCASIÆ.

The country hereabout was tolerably secure, the Niam-niam being desirous to secure Aboo Sammat’s friendship in order to ward off any mischief that might arise from the dangerous neighbourhood of Sabby. I considered it sufficiently safe to venture upon a little tour, attended only by my two Niam-niam servants. Directing my steps to the hill, I found that it was only like a hundred others, a pile of brown roe-stone, and apart from the open panorama it afforded, it possessed no interest at all. All along I gathered weeds and plants in ever-fresh variety.

Making at length our halt at a hamlet, my two companions drew my attention to a valuable production of their land. Underneath one of the granaries, which was supported in the usual way upon posts, was a great pile of firmly-pressed clay. On this an old woman was hammering with the pestle belonging to her mortar, and having knocked a hole, she drew out some tubers of a kind that I did not recognise. I afterwards found that it was the Colocasia, which is cultivated very freely throughout the Niam-niam country, and which when boiled makes a very excellent vegetable. The thick covering of clay is put over them not only to keep them moist in the dry season, but also to defend them from the ravages of rats, worms, and white ants. Whenever any of the tubers are required it is only needful to knock a hole through the clay, which can be plastered up again with a few handfuls of fresh mud. The same plan is also adopted in the rainy season to protect the crops from damp and rot; thus clay, everywhere abundant, is an universal antidote to the violence of nature.

As the darkness came on, our camp was enlivened by the appearance of the grotesque figure of a singer, who came with a huge bunch of feathers in his hat, and these, as he wagged his head to the time of his music, became all entangled with the braids of his hair. Altogether the head was like the head of Medusa. These “minne-singers” among the Niam-niam are known as “nzangah.” They are as sparing of their voices as a worn-out prima donna; except for those close by, it is impossible to hear what they are singing. Their instrument is the local guitar, the thin jingling of which accords perfectly well with the nasal humming of the minstrel’s recitative. The occupation of these nzangah, however, notwithstanding the general love of the people for music, would not appear to be held in very high esteem, as the same designation is applied to those unfortunate women, friendless and fallen, who are never absent from any community. Quite contrary to the practice of the neighbouring tribes, they have nothing to do with boisterous music, and only use their drums and horns for the purpose of signals. The minstrelsy of the Niam-niam may be said to have the character of a lover’s whisper.

Starting again and proceeding to the south, after an agreeable walk of about three hours, we arrived at the quarters of Bendo, a brother of Nganye, who had set him in charge of one of his best and most populous districts. The homesteads were all scattered over a wide and well-cultivated area, which extended with a northerly aspect along the declivity of an elevation of gneiss that rose to an altitude of about 200 feet. This hill was named Gumango; before we reached it we had to cross a considerable stream called the Rye, which throughout the year is always flowing. Uninfluenced hitherto by the rain, its breadth was now about forty feet, and its depth was sufficient to allow us to enjoy a pleasant bath at a spot where it ran beneath the shelter of some thick Psychotriæ. Tall popukky grass covered the banks, amidst which the splendid Nathalia, with its blossoms fine as those of a horse-chestnut, rose in all its beauty. The whole region, on either side the stream, was well cultivated, and look whichever way we would, we saw groups of farmsteads, although villages, in our sense of the term, did not exist.

Each family resides close to, if not actually upon, the land it cultivates. The insecurity of property is everywhere so great, that rather than relinquish their incessant watch over their crops, the people submit to many inconveniences and live far away from watercourses, put up with short supply of firewood, and brave the ravages of the white ants. Hostility, in this land, does not simply mean plunder and escape; the enemy is vengeful, and if he can carry nothing off, will damage all he finds, and destroy the rising crops.

The Rye empties itself into the river Sway, as the Dyoor is termed by the Niam-niam, although by the Bongo and Dyoor it is called the Geddy. Close to the rising eminence of Gumango, the Rye upon its left shore receives a considerable stream flowing from the marshy plains, along the banks of which are scattered numerous farmsteads surrounded by plantains. This was the first time I had seen the Musa sapientium in any quantities; just beyond the Nile district in the Monbuttoo country it becomes the very staple of the people’s food. The cultivation of the plantain seems to be a speciality of all the equatorial regions of Africa, from Uganda on Lake Ukerewe right away to the western lands on the Gaboon and Ogowai.

GROVE OF ZAWA-TREES.

Our encampment had been made to the north-east of Gumango in a great grove of Zawa trees (Lophira alata). Of this tree very few detached specimens are met with. It belongs to a class which flourishes beyond the range of the woods of the river banks, and will grow on a tolerably dry soil. Very noble is it in its growth, and so fine, that Colonel Grant has pronounced it to be the fairest memorial of his famous tour. Its bark is jet black, and it has a cylindrical crown of narrow quivering leaves, which vary in length from a foot to a foot and a half, whilst their breadth is rarely a couple of inches. Whilst it is young the colour of the foliage is purple, which subsequently changes to a deep sap-green. Every leaf is of a leathery texture, deeply wrinkled, and its surface smooth as if it were varnished. The blossoms repose in thick masses upon the extremities of the boughs; in colour they resemble those of the tea-tree, and emit a fragrant odour sweet as roses. It is one of the most serviceable productions of the country, as its fruit, which is about as large as a hazel-nut, yields a prolific supply of oil, of which the quality is singularly pure, while it is neither rank in smell nor coarse in taste. For my own part I much prefer the oil that is thus obtained to either that of the oil-palm, or of the butter-tree.

All the morning I pursued my botanising on the river Rye, and all the afternoon upon the sides and summits of Gumango. The arched surface of the rising mound of gneiss, stretching out without a rift, was the habitat of several very interesting ferns. Here I found the first specimen of Encephalartus which had ever been discovered in the northern latitudes of Africa. The joy of this surprise was no transient thing; but as often as the eye of the collector glances over the treasures he has brought from afar, it surveys a permanent memorial of his successful tour. The Ensete or wild Musa of Africa, which the Niam-niam call the “Boggumboly” (or little plantain) grows likewise in great abundance upon this interesting hill.

As surveyed from the summit of Gumango, the country, with the variegated colours of its cultivated enclosures, exhibited a thoroughly European aspect. Ploughed fields are nowhere to be seen, but the labour is limited to clearing out the weeds, and loosening the surface of the mould to receive the fine-grained eleusine, which no doubt requires more care than sorghum, which latter is sown broadcast.

All the farmsteads at this time had been deserted by their occupants, who had gone away and abandoned their well-stored granaries. Compared to the number of residences the store of provisions was very great, especially when the advanced season of the year is taken into account, for April was the month in which the new seeds should be planted out. One with another the huts had three granaries each, two of which were full of eleusine in its original condition, the remaining one being devoted to the same grain after it had been malted.

Everything testified to the fruitfulness of the soil. Sweet-potatoes, yams, and colocasiæ were piled up in heaps, and our hungry Bongo and Mittoo fell upon them as though they had entered a hostile country. The receptacles for corn, being circular erections of clay, supported on posts, and furnished with a covering which lifted up and down like a lid, were soon emptied, and the immediate neighbourhood of our quarters was like a scene of rapine and plunder.

NIAM-NIAM HUTS.

The arrangements of the Niam-niam huts are much the same throughout the land. Two, or at most three, families reside close together. Generally from eight to twelve huts are clustered round one common open space, which is kept perfectly clean, and in the centre of which is reared a post upon which the trophies of the chase are hung. Skulls of the rarest kind, splendid horns of antelopes and buffaloes, are attached to this standard, and, it must be added, skulls of men and withered hands and feet! Close in the rear of the huts, upon the level ground, were the magazines for corn; behind these would be seen a circle of Rokko fig-trees, which are only found in cultivated spots, and the bark of which is prized, far more than the handsomest of skins, as a material to make into clothing. Further in the background might be noticed a perfect enclosure of paradise figs; then in wider circumference the plantations of manioc and maize; and, lastly, the outlying fields of eleusine extending to the compound next beyond. I sketched several of the huts, which are embellished externally with black and white decorations. Several of the dwellings had roofs which rose upwards in two points; long poles projected from the peaks alike of huts and of granaries, and on these were strung rows of great land-snails (Achatina).

After some time we found Bendo himself arrayed in an apron of red flannel which had been given him by Mohammed. He looked very much disconcerted at seeing his property laid under such heavy contribution, but he was utterly helpless to arrest the havoc. The promise was given that Mohammed, when he arrived, would compensate him for all his loss by ample presents of copper rings and other gifts; and, as matter of fact, we found Bendo, at the time of our return, perfectly satisfied in his old quarters, and ready to show many proofs of the friendly interest with which he regarded me.

Besides Bendo and Gumba, Nganye had four brothers,—​Imma, Mango, Nyongalia, and Mbeli,—​who acted as his deputies, and had the charge of various districts. Intimidated by his alliance with Aboo Sammat, they were subservient to him with the obedience of vassals. There was, however, a seventh brother, Mbagahli, known by his Arabic name of Surroor, who was the direct subordinate of Aboo Sammat, and had been established in command of the wide country vanquished by him, which was bounded by the territories of Nganye, Wando, and Mbeeoh. Nganye had only two sons recognised as legitimate, Imbolutiddoo and Mattindoo, the former of which was destined to be the heir of his dignity. Nganye’s father was Moonuba, one of the six sons of Yapahti, who must not be confused with another prince of the same name whose territories lay to the south of Dar Ferteet.

On the 6th of February our march was maintained for a distance of six leagues until we arrived at the Sway. Whilst marching in single file it was very difficult to hold any communication with those who were before me or behind. Thus for a great part of the way I kept up no conversation at all, and had to obtain all my information about the country at the places where we halted, and where from the examination of several people I could learn the truth; going always upon the principle that in Africa what two witnesses state has some degree of probability, but when three agree, there is a moral certainty. As we proceeded, my attention was sufficiently occupied by observing the plants on both sides of our road, and every now and then I counted our steps in order to ascertain our rate of marching, the people, meanwhile, giving me the credit for muttering my prayers.

NEUTRALITY.

For the first and last time during our whole journey, I had a sharp contention with Aboo Sammat’s soldiers. Their conduct to the natives excited my indignation more and more every day, and an incident now occurred that thoroughly passed my powers of endurance. I could not without remonstrance allow one of the Nubians to maltreat the bearer that had been consigned to him by Bendo, and to strike him till his face was covered with blood, merely because he had broken a common calabash. But however much my sympathy with the negroes might make me a favourite with them, it could only be exhibited at the cost of a sacrifice of friendship with the Nubians, who were so indispensable for my comfort and necessities. I got the reputation of being a partisan and defender of the blacks, and more than once I was bitterly reproached because, as it was said, I reckoned the word of one negro of more account than that of ten Mussulmans. Under all similar circumstances, I learnt as far as I could to keep myself neutral, and thus happily I avoided much friction with either party. But it should be mentioned that I was never a witness of that abandoned cruelty and systematic inhumanity which the accounts of previous travellers in the lands of the Upper Nile might lead us to expect. A traveller to be just will take into consideration all the circumstances of the case and all the ameliorating particulars which may be alleged; but in the majority of these narratives, which make the hair almost stand on end, the judgment that is passed is not unfrequently warped and exaggerated. There is no justification for the pride with which we civilised people boast of our humanity. We have only to reflect upon the horrors that follow in the train of our wars, and if we could enfranchise ourselves from prejudice we should be compelled to allow that we are worse barbarians than all the Nubians—​nay, that we are murderers by deliberate intention, and destroyers of the happiness of the homes of thousands.

As ill-luck would have it, on this same day a bullet came whistling by close to my ear. Once before, during my stay at Fashoda, on the White Nile, as the reader may recollect, I had been in peril of my life through the excessive carelessness of the Nubian soldiers in handling their arms; and not only was the danger renewed now, but a few days later it was repeated for the third time. On this occasion a group had camped out on the side of the road as I was defiling past in the caravan. One of the men had his comrade’s gun in his hand, and was apparently examining it, when, as I was within a few paces of him, it went off. All that I heard was the cry of alarm on the part of the man that he wished he had known the gun was loaded; my own people flocked around me in consternation, but I passed on without turning my head, as though I had heard nothing. After the events of the day my mode of proceeding was designed to make an impression on the people, and succeeded in winning the hearts of all, especially as I never passed a single remark upon the whole transaction. The result was that everyone looked upon me as protected by a good star, and that every attempt upon my life would be utterly unavailing.

Our further progress led us, for two leagues from the residence of Bendo, along cultivated lands which were covered with farmsteads. On either hand, and apparently united with Gumango, stretched out ranges of granite hills to the south and south-east. One hill in particular lay to the left of our way, which was very long, but not higher than Gumango. The three succeeding leagues were all down-hill across a desert, and we had to pass some marshy courses, and several of what for want of a better name may be called “meadow-waters,” which at this season of the year were quite dry. These localities in Kanori, the dialect of Bornoo, are called “nyalyam.” Barth mentions them as one of the most characteristic features of Central Africa, between the Shary and the Benwe.[46] The prevailing character of the landscape was that of a steppe lowland, broken now and then by park-like woods.

THE SWAY.

The southern limit of Nganye’s territory is reached at the river Sway, which flows through the desert land which bounds alike his territories and Aboo Sammat’s. Just one league before we arrived at the river we passed the hamlets of Marra, who was a “behnky” of Nganye’s. The Sway is the upper Dyoor, and according to the uniform representations of the Niam-niam, it is considered as the main stream. I came across its source at the mountain of Baginze, where, although it is but a little brook, it is called by the same name. The proofs that I can adduce for the identity of the Dyoor and Sway are conclusive enough to establish it for a certainty, and they appear worthy of some special notice here, since they may serve to throw some light upon the question of the independence of the Welle, as a system distinct from that of the Nile basin.

1. There is no doubt that the length of the river’s course between the two points where I crossed it, the one in Marra’s district and the other in Bongo-land, near Manganya, amounts to 145 miles; but the positions, which I accurately determined, of the south Bongo Seribas, belonging to Ghattas and Kurshook Ali, and the assertion of these two men that the Dyoor flows due north from a distance of at least 70 miles above the fording-place near Manganya, virtually reduce the portion of the course that I did not explore to one-half.

2. At Marra, the Sway was already a stream with a volume of water sufficient to have an important share in the formation of the Dyoor.

3. All the Niam-niam that were questioned by me in Kurkur and Dangah, and who came from parts of their native land adjacent to these places, plainly and uniformly called the Dyoor by the name of the Sway; and without ever having been to Marra they were quite aware that the river came from the parts intermediate between the lands of Nganye and Wando.

4. Upon the road which the roving ivory companies of Mundo take over what was formerly Tombo’s territory, the Sway is crossed near Fomboa, at a place that corresponds to the curve which the river describes in my map.

5. The most important river flowing towards the north and east that must be crossed by expeditions proceeding southwards from Dem Bekeer in Dar Ferteet, is the Nomatilla or Nomatina, which according to all accounts is identical with the upper course of the Wow or Nyenahm, and is at all events the largest tributary of the Dyoor. From Solongoh’s residence, past which it flows, the Nubians have followed the course of the Nomatilla right down into the lands of the Bongo and Dyoor. There are no other important tributaries that the Dyoor can possibly receive upon the left; the Sway must, therefore, necessarily be the whole and entire upper course of the Dyoor.

To myself it was a great satisfaction thus to have placed beyond a doubt the origin of at least one of the principal source streams of the region of the upper Nile; and thus definitely to have assigned its geographical position to Mount Baginze.

HYDROGRAPHY OF THE SWAY.

The Sway flows past Marra along a level steppe, which on account of the rapid flow and deep channel of the river can only rarely, and that at the time of the rainfall, be under water. At this time the banks were perpendicular, rising to a height of some 18 or 20 feet, and being cut through layers of alluvial soil very much reminded one of the Nile “guefs.” The distance between bank and bank was 40 feet, but the actual river was now about 25 feet wide. Its depth was about 4 feet, and it was flowing at the rate of 120 feet a minute. The volume of water which passed was thus 200 cubic feet in a second, whilst the Dyoor, before its union with the Wow, at the dry season in the end of December, did not roll onward a volume of more than 1176 cubic feet. In the middle of June again the Sway had a volume of 1650 cubic feet to the second; whilst the Dyoor in the rainy season, at the point I have just mentioned, exhibited a volume of 8800 to 14,800 cubic feet.

This apparent discrepancy between the proportions of water of the two rivers at the opposite seasons of the year, is nevertheless quite in accordance with physical laws, and is consequently adapted to the purposes of demonstration. The drainage of the land outwards from its springs takes place in definite channels. These channels are represented by the great rivers which take their rise in the highest districts. The rain, uniformly spread throughout the country, makes its escape to its destination by the courses which are periodically opened in the smaller streams which become tributary to the larger. Compared, therefore, to what they are in the winter, the great rivers are not during the rainy season proportionately increased to the same extent as the smaller.

All the tributaries of the Dyoor (even to the great Wow, to which the Dyoor owes at least one-third of its volume), as far as they are known to me, have in winter the most trifling significance. Upon the right are the Rye, the Lako, and the Lengbe; on the left the Hoo, the Yubbo, and the Bikky. Any small addition which the little affluents might be able to yield in the winter is all lost by infiltration and by evaporation, so that their entire and united efficiency is so unimportant as to be of no account whatever.

The sun had not risen on the 7th of February when we started on our passage over the river. A bath, no doubt, after the heat and fatigue of the previous day was very refreshing, but on this occasion it was involuntary; and as we waded up to our necks in water I was conscious of sacrificing the cosy warmth which a preparatory cup of tea had given my stomach to the cause of science.

Through a charming bush forest, which, though destitute of large trees, was most imposing in the luxuriance and size of its foliage, our long column continued its march. These bush woods, remarkable for the large dimensions of their leaves, predominate everywhere throughout the countries of the Bongo and of the Niam-niam; they contain little of the nature of the steppes, except in parts where there is space left for the grass to spring up in abundance. Districts destitute of trees could not anywhere be found except upon the rocky flats or amidst the damp and marshy lowlands. The outspread of green was so universal, that, camp where we would, we were like the eggs in a bowl of salad. Let arable land lie but a couple of years in fallow, and it will break out into a young but dense plantation; the roots of the shrubs that have been cut down send up new shoots, and the whole is soon again a mass of verdure. It should nevertheless be mentioned that every tree that is either fine in itself or useful in its product is always spared and allowed to stand. The charm of the landscape at this early season of the year is very fascinating, and beyond a question April and May are months full of delight in Africa.

Before noon we had reached the little river Hoo, which after flowing as far as the eye could reach through continued steppes, at a spot a few leagues further down unites itself to the Sway. At this period it was a mere brook rather than a river, with a level sandy bed varying from 35 to 20 feet in breadth; it had but a languid flow and seldom was above 2 feet in depth. The banks are very low, and the rainfall consequently soon makes it overflow its limits and swamp the adjacent steppes as far as the very limits of the woods. The plants which flourish on its borders, trees and shrubs alike, clearly reveal that for months together they have been under water.

BUFFALOES AND ELEPHANTS.

We took an hour’s rest, which was spent in making a cup of tea and in disposing of a kala-bok (Antilope leucotis) which I had shot upon our way as a herd had crossed our path. A fine landscape was open before us to the east, and upon the outspread plain were herds of buffaloes of which the movements afforded us some entertainment. They went to and fro in groups of several hundreds along the ground that was furrowed by their tracks, and over land which in the dry season alone was rugged and uneven. Whenever we crossed any extensive river-plains we always fell in with herds of buffaloes; but we observed that vestiges of elephants were comparatively very rare, although the indications were not wanting that even quite recently some had been upon the scene. But to these sagacious creatures a trodden path is a thing to be eschewed, and they prefer to pursue their long marches under the obscurity of night. If any one would prosecute elephant-hunting to advantage, he must, as a matter of course, renounce every other aim whatever.

From the flats where the Hoo lay low, we proceeded through an undulating rocky bush-wood to an adjacent brook called the Atoborroo. Sunk in a deep chasm 80 feet deep it was hardly perceptible from above, and streamed on over-massed by the densest marsh foliage. The vegetation of the woods offered me a fresh feast of plants that I had never before seen, and I enjoyed an especial pleasure in the discovery of thickets of a species of ginger-plant, which filled the valley all around with the most delicious aromatic perfume, and grew quite down to the edge of the water.

Damp and foggy was the following morning as our caravan moved on its way. We had proceeded but a short distance when our advanced party came to a standstill. This was a symptom that a brook or river of some sort had obstructed further progress. These continual delays and interruptions contributed somewhat to the difficulty of keeping a systematic record of my wayfaring experiences. Through the tall grass and high bushes I endeavoured to push my way to the head of the line, but I could only succeed in arriving in time to see the first company follow their banner over the Manzilly. Along a ravine deeply overhung by the broad branching foliage of the fig-trees, the stream rushed on to the north-east, a direction precisely the reverse of what was followed by the Hoo, which ultimately received the waters of all the minor streams which came from the western heights. At every time of the year these water-courses are all very rapid, and generally speaking they run over gravel beds in distinction from the marshy mould of the more sluggish streams. In these cases the tedious process of undressing is limited to merely taking off one’s socks and boots, and this is a considerable saving of time.

Shortly after this we came to a small, albeit a very small piece of primeval forest, containing giant fig-trees, commonly called gum-trees, and indeed of a species not unlike the Ficus elastica. As a forerunner of greater surprises still to come, there rose before my view the first thicket of the calamus (the rotang or Spanish reed), which deserves a foremost place in every description of the woods that line the river-banks in the Niam-niam lands. It was a “gallery” or avenue in miniature, such as I should find on a larger scale along the side of nearly all the smaller streams to the south. This conception, so necessary to an adequate topographical representation of the land, will be discussed in a somewhat later page.

After a while we reached a second brook beside the farmsteads of Kulenjo, which are the first settlements of the Niam-niam subject to the immediate control of Aboo Sammat. The possessions of each separate Niam-niam are parted from each other, just in the same way as the territories of the different tribes, by desolate intervals void of any residents whatever, nominally for the purpose of security, so that the inhabitants may by placing out a watch easily guard against any sudden attack. When there is mutual distrust, or in times of open war, watches are of little service in signalling danger, for then every Niam-niam, as a true hunter, passes his whole time in watching and lying in wait.

TROPICAL FOREST.

During the entire day I occupied myself among the magnificent thickets on the stream near Kulenjo, the vegetation, so different from what I had seen in other parts of the Nile district, and of which I had had only a foretaste on the Atazilly, being here revealed in its full splendour. The flora embraces the majority of the plants of the western coasts of tropical Africa that are known on the Gaboon, the Niger, and the Gambia, and overstepping the watershed dividing the Nile districts from the basin of the Tsad, opens to the traveller from the north the unexpected glory of the wildernesses of Central Africa. Though all was but a faint reflection of the rich luxuriance of the primeval forests of Brazil, yet, in contrast to what had gone before, it could not fail to be very charming. Throughout the twenty-six degrees of latitude over which I travelled, the progress of vegetation, according to the geographical zone and the meteorological condition of the successive lands, was organised with wonderful simplicity. For the first 800 miles stretched the dreary desert, giving place to wide steppes, void of trees, but ever covered with grass; next came the delightful region of the bush forests, where the vegetation, divested of the obnoxious thorns of the desert, recalled the soft foliage of his native land to the mind of the traveller, who lastly entered upon what he might correctly call the true primeval forest, which carried him back to the memories of his youth when he yielded his fancy to the fascinations of ‘Robinson Crusoe’ or of ‘Paul and Virginia.’ An identical change gradually supervening in the character of vegetation is perceptible in a contrary direction in the southern half of the continent; and travellers proceeding from the Cape northwards to the Equator have rarely failed to draw attention to the fact.

Nature everywhere proceeds upon the principle of levelling what is opposite and balancing what is extreme: she would seem to abhor the sharply-defined boundaries in which man delights so much, and in accordance with this law she here presents to the eye of the inquirer a transition that is very gradual, so that the limits of her districts overlap one another like the fingers of folded hands. Even in lat. 7° N. small isolated tracts of bank-forest, bearing, however, the characteristic types of the “gallery” flora, are scattered like enclaves among the bush-forests of the distant north. The forests at Okale, at Yagla, and the locality called “Genana,” are examples which I have already mentioned.

Nowhere did the guinea-fowl afford better sport than along the stream at Kulenjo; about noon their grey plumage could be seen in the shade of the foliage as they perched aloft in the trees at the edge of the wood, where they could be brought down one after another with the greatest ease. The keen vision of the Niam-niam did me good service in spying out the birds from a distance, for the waving green around me made me almost blind. The early morning likewise is not an unfavourable time for getting at guinea-fowl; they begin their flight very shortly after sunrise, but even then they are too much occupied in securing their food to heed the approach of any tolerably cautious sportsman.

FEEDING THE BEARERS.

The reader may perchance wonder at my frequent mention of these guinea-fowl, and I would therefore be allowed to explain that the traveller in Africa would be quite at a loss without them, as, with rare exceptions, they form the main commodity of his daily cuisine. In the course of five years I daresay I brought down as many as a thousand of these birds, generally two at a time. By using the lightest shot that can be obtained, and aiming high, failure is quite exceptional, as the smallest grain that hits the long neck is sure to bring down the game. With dogs, even when untrained, securing the birds is a still more easy matter. The guinea-fowl cannot fly far at a time, and therefore when they perceive the dogs in the long grass, they seem to realise their inability to escape, and take refuge on the nearest bough. Often while my dogs have surrounded a tree, I have brought down from a distance of thirty or forty feet one guinea-fowl after another, without a single bird having ventured to leave its hiding-place.

In marching for three days across an open wilderness, the caravan had to be provided by Kulenjo with their ordinary meals, and it was no easy matter in a region so scantily populated to find the necessary food for a thousand hungry mouths. The feeding took place in the evening, and before sunrise in the morning. The whole party of bearers were divided into groups, to which the food was distributed by the different “nyare,” or local Bongo overseers, who generally accompany the leaders of these longer expeditions. Handfuls of corn, measured out just as though they were portions for camels or asses, and lumps of bread composed of coarsely-ground impure Teleboon-corn (eleusine), boiled to a pulp, formed the wretched allotment and composed the substance of a meal such as we should hesitate at giving even to our cattle. Frequently in the wilderness they are reduced to the necessity of cooking and eating their corn unground. In comparison with this vile and wretched provision, linseed-cake and bran would be accepted by the Bongo and Mittoo bearers as choice delicacies. The natives bring them their pulpy bread in baskets, and by counting the great lumps of dough, which were packed in green leaves, it was possible, with some approximation to truth, to estimate the number of families appointed to take their share in providing the supplies.

Dainties more tempting and recherché were brought in gourd-shells. The natives who brought these alone formed a goodly company, consisting chiefly of boys and children; the women, being shy, and also jealously guarded by their husbands, remained behind at home.

I must not omit to mention the vegetables, which, when circumstances permitted, were also brought for the bearers. These vegetables, served with sauces, were arranged in hundreds of gourd-shells, pots, and bowls, round the immense pile of the so-called bread. The sauces, which were greatly relished by the Bongo, consisted of a compound of animal and vegetable grease, water, soda, and aromatic herbs. The chief ingredients in the finer sorts were grains of sesame and hyptis, pounded to a pulp, whilst the inferior kinds were mainly composed of the Zawa-oil of the Lophira alata and oil of termites. Those with the most piquant flavour are made of dried fish, which is pounded and rolled into balls like cheese; in consequence of the heat of the climate these very soon acquire a haut goût. Neither Bongo nor Niam-niam will touch pimento, as they consider its very pungency to be an evidence of its poisonous properties; consequently they seek a substitute in stinking fermented matter.

Common salt is absolutely unknown in this part of Africa; the only salt to be procured being extracted from the ashes of the wood of the Grewia; consequently the greasy soups when boiled coagulate almost into a kind of soap, and their flavour may be more easily imagined than described. To make specially attractive sauces there is added the flesh of elephants and buffaloes, which has been previously dried and pounded. Any fat from meat is all but unknown: Nature appears to have quite denied any supply to animals that are wild, and the Niam-niam have no domestic animals like their neighbours; whilst the fat of dogs and men, even if it were not loathsome to the Bongo, would be far too rare and costly to be used for such a purpose. Such is the usual food supplied to the native bearers, and according to their notion it is probable that no more grateful diet could be prescribed.

VEGETABLES.

At some seasons other products of the soil, such as the larger kinds of gourds, are added to the catalogue of supplies. Gourd-leaves, too, which can be gathered throughout the year, together with various herbs, which are found neither to be unwholesome nor to have the flavour of pimento, are pounded and mixed with the soups. Vegetables proper are rarely grown, but whatever weeds may spring up on all cultivated soils are employed as a substitute, and play as important a part in the economy of the food as many articles that are used on our own tables; they serve partly as material to thicken the soups, and partly as nourishment to satisfy hunger. As I proceeded further on my journey, I found that manioc, sweet-potatoes, and green plantains took the place of the corn-pap and Bongo sauces, whilst it should be observed that in the more northerly regions cereals formed the basis of the food.

On the twelfth morning of our march I rose with the welcome prospect of that day reaching Aboo Sammat’s Seriba. Attending to my toilet, and taking my time over my breakfast, I did not quit the camp at Kulenjo until long after the last of the bearers had left. The day brought me along a charming walk, and yielded a fine harvest of botanical treasures; we crossed four streams, passed several isolated hamlets, and finally entered a dense forest of lofty trees. This was no park with its alternations of meadows and thickets, trees and groves: it was a veritable forest in our northern sense, but infinitely more lovely and varied, and not marked by the solemn monotony of our native woods. In contrast to the surrounding country, the forest land extended over an area of many miles to the north and south of the Seriba, and nowhere did it show an exclusive predominance of any single species. Trees there were most striking and stately, but the most remarkable circumstance about them was the diversity they displayed; a fact that may be comprehended, when it is stated that amongst thirty adjacent trees were found representatives of no less than twenty different classes.

FOOTNOTES:

[44] Behnky has the French pronunciation of “bainqui.”

[45] The portraits here presented are those of two dandies, named Wennepai and Sehngba.

[46] They correspond to what in the Mark of Brandenburg are called “Luche” (from the Slavonian, “Luga,” a pond), being meadow-like depressions from which the water passes by subterranean channels.

CHAPTER XI.

Aboo Sammat’s territory. Jungle on the brooks. Discovery of wild pepper. Giant trees. Modesty of the Niam-niam women. Fresh danger from a bullet. A Bongo poisoned by manioc. Liberal treatment of bearers. Nduppo’s disagreement with Wando. Savage admiration of Europeans. The skin-trade. Wando’s braggings and threatenings. Formation of columns for war. Natives as soldiers. Difficulties of river-fording. Difference of level of soil on the watersheds. Mohammed’s prelude to drinking beer. Division of forces. Primeval forest on the Lindukoo. Rikkete’s jealousy. Varieties of genets. Mohammed’s réveille. Morning toilet of the Niam-niam. Waterfall on the Lindukoo. Magic roots. Watershed of the Nile district. Simple geological formation of Central Africa. The chimpanzee and pandanus found only beyond the watershed. Confusion in crossing the brook. Africa’s revenge on the white man. Venturesome interview of Mohammed with Wando. Value of ivory and copper. Definition of a “gallery-wood.” Duality of vegetation. Wando visits my tent. Wando’s nonchalance. A specimen of native cookery. Six Nubians murdered by Niam-niam. The leaf-eater and grass-man.

One of the native chieftains, as I have already mentioned, had exhibited so much hostility, and had been so great an obstacle to Mohammed Aboo Sammat’s ivory trade in Wando’s district, that Mohammed had proceeded to violence and had wrested away his territory. This chieftain was now dead, and Mohammed in his place had appointed a native spearman of royal blood. Mohammed had a considerable number of these spearmen, natives of the Niam-niam country, who were brought into his Seribas, and having been initiated into the use of fire-arms, formed one of the main supports of his authority. Backed by the continual presence of some forty or fifty armed Nubians, Surroor (for such was the name of the new vicegerent) held sway over a populous area of 700 square miles. According to the joint estimate made by Mohammed and Surroor, the number of men in the territory capable of bearing arms was not less than 40,000. I believe, however, that half this number would be nearer the mark; for when I test my impressions by comparing them with the results of my careful investigations in Bongo-land, I cannot but think that the entire population of the Niam-niam country, with its wide tracts of wilderness utterly uninhabited, hardly averages 65 to the square mile.

Since here amongst the bearers there is no institution of statute labour, and the number of villages and huts could only be arrived at by careful scrutiny of an entire district, the only means open to me for estimating the amount of population was by taking what reckoning I could of the people who assembled on either side of our route as we passed along. These may be divided into three classes: first, those who had come from mere curiosity; secondly, those who had been ordered to settle in a district to contribute towards the general means of subsistence; and, thirdly, the fighting-force that was displayed in various places during time of war, and which most probably represented the large majority of the men who were capable of bearing arms.

The strongholds in this district consist of one large Seriba and three smaller palisaded enclosures. In these subsidiary settlements discipline is maintained by native overseers with a small detachment of armed men.

The personal relation of the Niam-niam towards their rulers was far less servile than what I had observed among the Bongo and Mittoo. The duties imposed were mainly the same. They were bound to assemble promptly at any signal either for war or for hunting, to provide an adequate support for whatever soldiers and bearers might be brought into the country; to furnish wood and straw for building purposes, and to perform various incidental labours. The Niam-niam, however, are not employed as bearers upon the expeditions, and upon the whole are less oppressed and are treated with more consideration than the Bongo. At present they can hardly comprehend their state of subjection, and this indefinite feeling is fostered at first by leniency on the part of the oppressors, that they may smooth the way for severer measures in the future.

The power of any native chiefs among such a people of unsettled habits and unpliant temper as the Niam-niam—​a people delighting in the chase—​is necessarily at present very limited; it cannot extend any further at all than to accomplish the disposal of whatever men may be capable of bearing arms either for the purpose of warfare or of hunting. The official emoluments of these chiefs are derived partly from an allowance made upon all the ivory that is secured, which is always paid without being contested, and partly from their having a right to half of all the elephant meat; but for their ordinary subsistence they have to turn their attention to the cultivation of the fields; and for this purpose they endeavour to increase their home establishments by the acquisition of as many wives and women-slaves as their resources will allow.

ABOO SAMMAT’S SERIBA.

I remained at this place from the 10th to the 26th of February. The Seriba was in lat. 4° 50´ N., and was 87 miles south—​almost due south—​of Sabby. It was situated in the angle formed by the confluence of two streams, the Nabambisso and the Boddo, which were overhung by lofty trees, and in some places were enclosed by dense thickets. Close at hand was the “mbanga” of Surroor.

I spent the daytime in an assiduous investigation of the neighbouring woods. My collection increased considerably, and the paper packets prepared for the reception of my treasures were rapidly filled up. The crowds of natives who came from far and near to gaze upon me afforded me an acceptable opportunity of filling up some pages in my album. My two Niam-niam interpreters (called in Arabic Gyabir and Amber) felt at home upon their native soil, and accompanied me everywhere, making my intercourse with the natives perfectly easy. I was able to roam about at will in the adjacent jungles, as the environs were as safe as those of Ghattas’ Seriba in the Dyoor; and, altogether, I was soon as comfortable as I could desire in this remote land.

The scenery was lovely; the two streams never failed throughout the year to be well supplied with water, and flowed through deep glades where the lofty trees were wreathed and festooned with creepers in clustered grace that would have been an ornament to any palm-house. In the part where the supply of water was diverted to the residences the woods had been considerably thinned. The wild date-palm (Phœnix spinosa), which may be considered as the original of the species cultivated throughout the desert region from Senegambia to the Indus, grows here as a low shrub, and together with the calamus forms an impenetrable hedge along the banks of the stream. The double barbs of the calamus cling tenaciously to the skin and clothes, reminding one of the prickly acacia to which the Boers, or Dutch colonists in South Africa, have given the name of “wag-a-bitjen,” i. e. wait-a-bit.

A new characteristic of the flora appears here in the Amomum, which I found in tall masses on the damp soil near the bed of the stream, and even in the water itself. I saw five different species, with white, yellow, and crimson flowers. The fruit of all the kinds is bright red, and contains a soft pulp which has a flavour like citron, and which envelopes the aromatic seeds known as grains of paradise. The water of the streams runs clear as crystal, and the traveller may at any time allay his thirst by a cooling draught. Here and there the sun’s rays force their way through the interlacing creepers which hang in festoons between stem and stem, and in the twilight the foliage gleams almost like burnished metal. The Ashantee pepper (Cubeba Clusii) clothes the trunks with a close network which is thickly covered with bright red berries that grow in clusters as long as one’s finger. After the fruit has been dried it makes a very good substitute for black pepper, which it very much resembles in flavour. I was the first to draw the attention of the Nubians to the plant, for, although they had travelled much in the Niam-niam lands, they had no idea that these berries had the properties of pepper, and seemed highly gratified at the discovery. The Niam-niam take the pepper only as a medicine; for seasoning their dishes they are accustomed to use the Malaghetta pepper (Habzelia), of which we shall have to speak on a later page. The Ashantee-pepper is one of the most common and yet at the same time one of the most striking of the characteristics of the primeval forests of the district; it forms the finest adornment of the giant trees, and covers the venerable stems of these princes of the vegetable kingdom with a vesture of royal purple.

KOKKOROKOO.

One amongst the most imposing forms of vegetation is found in a Sterculia of the Cola tribe, called “kokkorokoo.” This tree grows to a height of 80 or 90 feet; the stem gradually tapers upwards to a point, whilst at the base it is suddenly expanded to so great a bulk that it would require eight or ten men to encircle it; thence it rises in a mass of narrow arms, corresponding to the direction of the roots, shooting upwards for many feet, like a series of planks joined together edge to edge. The leaves are heart-shaped and form a light and airy foliage, but this commences at such a height above the ground that I was for some time in doubt about the true form of the tree. At length I discovered a shoot bursting from a root that enabled me to realise a proper idea of the plant. It is no uncommon thing in these primeval forests for the botanist thus to see the object of his desire at a height so far above his head that he is unable to attain so much as a single leaf.

It was upon the Boddo that I found the first specimens of Anthocleista. The flora of the Niam-niam countries contains several species of this genus of the Loganiaceæ, which is remarkable for the immense size and small number of its leaves that grow all together at the crown of a single stem running up without a branch. Let any one imagine a tobacco plant magnified to ten times its natural size and placed upon the top of a stem some twenty feet high, and he will then have some idea of this plant with its circling labyrinth of leaves. In any drawing of a landscape the Anthocleista defies every rule of perspective. The equatorial zone alone can boast of plants so unique in character as these, which may be considered as samples of the unexplored splendour of the primeval forests of Brazil.

After every ramble I turned my steps to Surroor’s mbanga, and my visits there were always enjoyable, because I ever found something fresh that sensibly enlarged my knowledge of the country. There was invariably a large assemblage of natives about the vicegerent’s court, and among them a considerable number of women; for Surroor, besides his thronging harem, kept a great many female slaves in attendance upon himself and his wives. As a guest of Mohammed’s I was always treated here with the utmost respect. The most elaborate benches and stools were brought out for me to sit on, and Surroor’s store of these exemplars of native art was inexhaustible. The choicest delicacies of the country were outspread before me, but these were to me as prohibited as shewbread. I always made a rule of eating alone, and consequently felt constrained to leave the dainties to my interpreters and Nubian servants.

Yes; I took my meals alone. A solitary European, as he proceeds farther and farther from his home, may see his old associations shrink to a minimum; but so much the more, with pertinacious conservatism, will he cling to the surviving remnants of his own superiority. Nothing can ever divest him of the thought as to how he may maintain the prerogative, which he takes for granted, that he is a being of some higher order. Many a misanthrope, in his disgust at the shady side of our modern culture, may imagine that to a traveller, in his intercourse with the children of Nature, the thousand necessities of daily life must seem but trifles vain and empty, to be dispensed with without a sigh. Such an one may fancy that the bonds which fasten him to the world of civilisation are weak and all waiting to be rent asunder as soon as Nature is left to assert her unfettered rights; but from experience I can assure him that the truth is very different. With the fear of degenerating ever before his eyes, the wanderer from the realms of civilisation will surely fix his gaze almost with devotion on the few objects of our Western culture that remain to him, which (however trivial they are in themselves) become to him symbols little less than sacred. Tables and chairs, knives and forks, bedding, and even pocket-handkerchiefs, will assume an importance that could never have been anticipated, and it is hardly too much to aver that they will rise to a share in his affections.

NIAM-NIAM WOMEN.

The social position of the Niam-niam women differs materially from what is found amongst other heathen negroes in Africa. The Bongo and Mittoo women are on the same familiar terms with the foreigner as the men, and the Monbuttoo ladies are as forward, inquisitive and prying as can be imagined; but the women of the Niam-niam treat every stranger with marked reserve. Whenever I met any women coming along a narrow pathway in the woods or on the steppes, I noticed that they always made a wide circuit to avoid me, and returned into the path further on; and many a time I saw them waiting at a distance with averted face, until I had passed by. This reserve may have originated from one of two opposite reasons. It may on the one hand have sprung from the more servile position of the Niam-niam women themselves; or, on the other, it may have been necessitated by the jealous temperament of their husbands. It is one of the fine traits in the Niam-niam that they display an affection for their wives which is unparalleled among natives of so low a grade, and of whom it might be expected that they would have been brutalised by their hunting and warlike pursuits. A husband will spare no sacrifice to redeem an imprisoned wife, and the Nubians, being acquainted with this, turn it to profitable account in the ivory trade. They are quite aware that whoever possesses a female hostage can obtain almost any compensation from a Niam-niam.

A Niam-niam Girl.

SURROOR.

My exceptional position made it easy for me to procure an order from Surroor that some of his wives should sit for their portraits. This was an unusually favourable opportunity, and the ladies with their plaited tresses, allowed me to make many additions to my portfolio and to my list of measurements. In this place I measured about fifty different people, taking no less than forty measurements of each. This of course was the work of time, but my trouble was all in vain, for all my notes, with many others, were destroyed in the fire, of which the record will have to be made, on the 2nd of December. Altogether I had carefully registered the measurements of more than 200 individuals belonging to various nations.

During the time that Surroor had acted in the capacity of Mohammed’s spearman, he had learnt to speak Arabic fluently, and was therefore able to give me considerable information on many points. I asked many local questions, since the unravelling of the confused hydrographical network in this part of the country was an object which I could never permit to be absent from my thoughts. I was not long however, in discovering that these Zandey (Niam-niam), although possessing such uniformity in speech and customs, had no more knowledge of the remote parts of their country than the majority of the other natives of Central Africa. I may mention, as an instance of this, that no one in this district knew so much as the name of Mofio, whose territory indeed was 300 miles distant, but whose reputation, as one of the chief Niam-niam princes, might have been presumed to be widespread.

Another occasion very shortly afterwards had the effect of impressing the people about me with a very lofty notion of the good genius which presided over my fortune, and protected me from injury. A traveller who has learnt experience will understand the desirableness of turning the progress of events to the advantage of his personal reputation. As I was about to take my seat of honour at Surroor’s side on a Monbuttoo bench, my life for the third time was imperilled by a bullet fired from the neighbouring Seriba. The descending ball passed close to my left, and within a few inches of my forehead; glancing off the palm-sticks which were attached to my seat, it dashed through the roof of an adjacent hut. However much I may have been alarmed, I succeeded entirely in disguising my terror. The Nubians do not possess any wad-hooks for extracting either cartridges or bullets; their guns consequently have to be discharged in order to keep them clean and in proper condition. It may therefore be imagined that in the vicinity of a Nubian camp there is a perpetual whirring and whizzing in the air from the incidental firing of these stray shots.

Hunting in this place, as far as we were concerned, was not to be thought of, as the region was far too thickly populated, and the Niam-niam themselves are such devoted huntsmen that they leave nothing for the stranger beyond the few francolins and guinea-fowl which may escape their snares.

During our sojourn, Mohammed Aboo Sammat, with his faithful black body-guard of true Zandey, had arrived from the Mittoo country. The entire united forces then prepared to advance to the south, Ghattas’s agent and plenipotentiary not considering that a division could be ventured upon until we had gained sufficient assurance of the peaceful intentions of Wando, whose territory we should have to cross upon our route. Any apprehensions of hostility, however, were soon allayed, and for a time all went well.

By the 25th of February all the preparations for marching were complete, and, reckoning all Aboo Sammat’s and Ghattas’s people, we were a body of little short of 1000 strong. Our marching column was not much less than four miles in length, so that it happened more than once, after a short day’s march, that those in front were erecting their huts with leaves and grass before those in the rear had lost sight of the smoke of the encampment of the previous night.

Just before starting Mohammed had sent some of his dependents back to Sabby, and I took the opportunity of remitting by them the botanical collection which I had made. Amongst other plants were two specimens of the remarkable Cycadea, which after all the vicissitudes of travel arrived in Europe in a state of vitality.

Only a small portion of my reserve of cattle was now remaining, and the maintenance of the men in the Seriba had quite exhausted the stores; to Mohammed’s great annoyance, even the sorghum-seed, which was to have been conveyed to Munza, king of the Monbuttoo, as a curiosity, had been consumed as material of diet, and thus the heart of Africa had been deprived of one advance in culture.

We proceeded, first of all, two leagues in a westerly direction, and after crossing the Nabambisso and two smaller streams, we made our necessary halt. It was on the western boundary of the cultivated district subject to Aboo Sammat, and before we could venture to quit it, an adequate relay of provisions had to be procured from the neighbourhood.

FEEDING THE BEARERS.

The feeding of the bearers was an animated scene, enlivened as it was by the concourse of some hundreds of the Niam-niam people. The provision for the most part consisted of great lumps of pappy dough piled upon broad leaves, and served with strong-smelling sauces which were brought in pots, bowls, calabashes, and vessels of every variety. Drawn up on one side, in groups arranged according to the order of their arrival, stood the bearers, whilst the Niam-niam in throngs took their position on the other, and many an eager glance was thrown upon the preparations for the general repast. I took my sketch-book in my hand, and wandering through the ranks preserved my observations of the diversified tattooing which everywhere arrested the eye.

To judge from the representations which have been given us by Du Chaillu, Griffon, and other travellers, I should say that in external appearance the Niam-niam very much resemble the people of the Fan on the Gaboon. The two races adopt a similar fashion of dressing their hair; both alike have the reputation of being cannibals; and from all accounts their domestic arrangements are not very different.

Almost immediately after starting on the following morning we crossed the Nabambisso, and our course subsequently lay across a group of low mounds of gneiss covered with an interesting vegetation. Here grew in great abundance the Selaginella rupestris, clothing the bare rock with a graceful carpet of verdure; and here, too, for the first time since leaving the Red Sea, I was greeted with the sight of the Abyssinian aloe with its fiery barb. This plant belongs to the flora of the loftiest mountains; but although the elevation of the country was scarcely more than 2500 feet, yet it was sufficiently high to permit the plant to thrive; in Nubia, too, it flourishes at an altitude hardly higher than that in which it is conspicuous here. After surmounting the gneiss rocks we crossed the Nabambisso for the second time, and marching onwards in a southerly direction we reached a wide depression, called Yabongo, enclosed by dense bushes like the “Luche” in the Mark of Brandenburg, or perhaps still more like a meadow-pool in the sense of the “nyalnyam” of Bornoo. On the edge of the water many wild Phœnix of both sexes were flourishing with greater magnificence than any I had yet seen, their stems running to the height of some twenty feet. For a distance now there were no watercourses above ground to be seen, and shortly afterwards we entered upon another valley which was distinguished by the name of Yabo. The interval between the two hollows was filled by woodlands, graceful as parks, and adorned by many a large-leaved fig-tree bearing a multitude of figs much larger than those we ever grow.

CONSIDERATION FOR BEARERS.

While we were here, one of the Bongo bearers died from the effects of eating manioc before it had been prepared and divested of its poisonous parts. For twenty-four hours before his death he had lain in a state of coma, and a strong emetic had been entirely without effect. In the Niam-niam countries the manioc roots are of the same uncertain quality as those of South America, and the Bongo being unfamiliar with the differences, often do themselves serious injury on their expeditions by partaking of them indiscrimately.

Not long afterwards another of the Bongo people was carried off by a lion from the side of a bivouac fire; and these two were the only deaths that occurred in the course of the two months that Mohammed’s caravan was on its outward way. Probably much was due to the salubrity of the air, which contributed to make the men superior to the drawback of unwholesome food, and to all the exertions, fatigues, and deprivations to which they had to submit; but beyond a doubt the fact spoke volumes for the considerate treatment that the bearers received from Mohammed. He spared his people most studiously, and often rated the soldiers very severely whenever they were impatient or harsh with the bearers; he personally superintended the distribution of all the corn, and in his anger I have heard him revile the troops, telling them that they were good-for-nothing rascals who only knew how to go to sleep, and how to bully the bearers.

Towards noon on the 27th of March we reached the Uzze, a small river running almost parallel with the Sway, and of about the same dimensions as the Hoo, only having a much slower current. The river-bed was twenty-five feet wide, but at this period there was not more than a two-foot depth of water. The stream flowed along an open plain, unrelieved by trees, but animated by many herds of buffaloes, which we did not now stay to chase, but which afforded us excellent sport upon our way back. About two miles to the south of the Uzze we crossed the Yubbo, the two rivers here being quite close together, although they diverge again to a distance of several leagues towards the west before they ultimately unite and join the Sway.

The Yubbo at this time was fifty feet wide, and like the Uzze was only two feet deep; it meandered along a low steppe which was obviously subjected to inundation, a fact that testified to the importance of the river in the rainy season. Estimated merely with reference to the length of its course, the Yubbo might compete with the Sway for the honour of being chief among the original stream-sources which make up the Dyoor, but the comparison of the volume of water which the separate rivers contain demonstrates that it really performs a very subsidiary part. Another argument that very pointedly tends to prove that the Sway is really the main source rests upon the fact that the natives distinguish it, at its earliest risings, in the defiles of the Baginze, by the same name that the Dyoor itself bears among the Niam-niam in what were formerly the states of Tombo. The development of the Sway, from the aggregated confluence of a number of smaller streams, is as characteristic an example of “river-sources” as the records of geographical science can furnish.

After crossing the deep hollow of the bed of the Yubbo, we met some messengers who had been despatched by Nduppo, Wando’s brother, to bid us welcome. Nduppo was chief of a district subject to his brother, with whom, however, he was by no means on good terms. From Nduppo himself, of course, we had no hostilities to fear, as nothing could be of more importance to him than to preserve his friendly relations with Mohammed. As we arrived at his mbanga some hours before night, I had time to make a short visit to a deep ravine at no great distance, that was watered by a streamlet called the Nakofoh, which was almost hidden by the dense groves upon its bank.

Our camp had meanwhile been improvised, a number of grass huts having been speedily erected because of the threatening aspect of the sky; towards evening for some days past there had been the appearance as if a storm were rising, but rain had only fallen twice since the beginning of the month, and even now the clouds were broken. On reaching the encampment I found Nduppo himself in company with Mohammed. I joined them, at once, being as anxious as anyone to get what intelligence I could about Wando and his intentions. It transpired that the feud between Nduppo and his brother had become so violent in rancour that Nduppo avowed that he lived in constant terror of being attacked and murdered by Wando’s soldiers, and this cruel destiny which he foreboded did actually befall him a very few days after our departure. For ourselves, the following day would decide whether we were to have peace or war.

Our next move was to the quarters of Rikkete, another brother of Wando’s, and who, holding the office of behnky, had remained faithful in his allegiance, and was consequently in avowed hostility to Nduppo. The three brothers were part of the numerous family of Bazimbey, whose extensive dominions, a few years previously, had been divided into six small principalities, a heritage which was a perpetual apple of discord amongst his sons. Bazimbey was one of the six sons of Yapahti, who still retain their rule over nearly all the eastern countries of the Niam-niam.

ADMIRING THE WHITE MAN.

My personal appearance aroused the most vivid interest on the part of Nduppo and his suite. Their curiosity seemed insatiable, and they never wearied in their inquiries as to my origin. Theirs were the first exclamations of a kind which more or less frequently continued to be made throughout the rest of my journey. To their mind the mystery was as to where I could have come from; my hair was the greatest of enigmas to them; it gave me a supernatural look, and accordingly they asked whether I had been dropped from the clouds or was a visitor from the moon, and could not believe that anything like me had been seen before.

And with regard to this appearance of mine, I may mention that amongst these people of the far interior it hardly seemed to be the colour of my skin that principally excited their astonishment, for even in the remotest regions of Central Africa, tribes that have no conception of an ocean are aware of the existence of white men; but it was invariably my long straight hair that caused their chief surprise, my own purpose in letting my hair grow to an unusual length being that I might be identified at once amid all the countless shades of complexion that were found amongst the Nubians. I enquired whether they had not seen the traveller Piaggia, that white man who but a few years ago had been staying in their parts with king Tombo; but they replied that although they had heard about him, they had never seen him. In my way, therefore, I was quite unique, and truly a desideratum in their ethnographical experience.

Nduppo communicated to us many particulars about his brothers, and about the warfare that was carried on between them, and informed us likewise of the death of Bazimbey’s brother Tombo, who had entertained Piaggia with so much hospitality. Tombo’s kingdom, it appeared, had likewise been cut up into a number of smaller states which still retained all their national hostility to the intruders from Khartoom. The residence at which Bazimbey had lived, during his sovereignty, was pointed out to me, at a distance which, I should presume, was about 25 miles. It was explained to me that a messenger, if he were strong and could walk well, could accomplish the journey in a day, but, it was added that he must not halt on the way, and that he would have to get on apace like a Niam-niam, and not to dawdle like a Bongo bearer carrying his load.

ABUNDANCE OF SKINS.

Throughout the whole of the territory that was subject to Wando, the clothing of all the people consisted of skins, as the fig-tree, of which the bark is so generally used in the south, does not thrive here at all well. For all those who require it, the bark has to be imported from the country of the Monbuttoo, and is consequently an article of luxury. Skins can ordinarily be obtained at a price which seemed to me ridiculously small. For the purpose of getting a few trifling additions which were necessary for my cuisine I was in the habit of breaking up some of my larger copper rings into little bits, and I was very pleased to find how far these copper fragments would go in making purchases of skins of various kinds. In this way I bought a fine otter skin (probably Lutra inunguis, Cuv.) for about threepence, genet skins for about a penny apiece, and those of the Colobus quereza for a very little more. Very plentiful and consequently equally cheap were the skins of civets, Herpestes fasciatus, Felis maniculata, F. caracal and F. serval. The skins of the smaller kinds of antelopes, too, were very frequently offered for sale, especially those of the beautiful Antilope scripta (the harness bush-bock of South Africa) and of A. grimmia, A. madoqua, and the long-haired water-bock (A. difassa). It is very strange how, notwithstanding this extraordinary abundance and cheapness of skins, traffic in them, as an article of commerce, is entirely unknown in Khartoom, where the dealers seem to have no suspicion of the large demand there undoubtedly would be. Leopard skins, it may be added, were comparatively rare, and were only used by royal personages to line their shields, or according to their own special prerogative, to encircle their heads. Nduppo wore a serval-skin, of which the ends drooped in graceful folds over his neck and shoulders, whilst great pins, headed with pieces cut from the tail of the Sciurus leucumbrinus, held it firmly fastened to his luxuriant hair.

Aboo Sammat was known amongst the Niam-niam by the name of “Mbahly” or “the little one,” a designation given him long ago by the people, on account of the youthful age at which he had entered their country. Nduppo informed us that Wando had declared, with what was tantamount to an oath, that Mbahly should not this time escape, but that he and all his crew should be annihilated: he, moreover told us that the threats had extended to myself. Wando, he said, avowed that he did not want any presents, and that all the beads in the world were nothing to him; if any offerings were sent he would trample them in the grass; if any stuffs were given him he would rip them into shreds; plenty of copper he had already, and for that matter, plenty of ivory too, but he did not intend to part with any of it.

For a long time it perplexed me to discover the reason of Wando’s animosity. Only two years previously he and Mohammed had been on the most friendly terms. Mohammed had visited him at his home, and the two had entered into the closest alliance, which had been sealed by Mohammed marrying his daughter, who as I have already mentioned, was now one of the first ladies in the harem of Boiko. But, meanwhile, Mohammed had been in Khartoom, and during his absence he had entrusted the charge of his expeditions to his brother, who had fallen out with Wando. Mutual recriminations led to mutual plunder, and Wando was now in a rage that could not easily be suppressed.

Nduppo led us to understand that in the course of our next march we should receive definite tidings of Wando’s intentions. If an attack were resolved upon, his whole force would be assembled and we should be prevented from going on to Rikkete; but if, on the other hand, we were permitted to reach Rikkete unmolested we might then be sure that there would be a temporary peace. And this in reality we found to be the case. As we were approaching Rikkete we were met by Wando’s envoys bringing the accustomed conciliatory flasks of beer. Various circumstances might have weighed with the chieftain to induce him to postpone his outbreak. It is possible that he considered that while Aboo Sammat’s and Ghattas’s companies were united and could muster 300 guns, the time was not arrived for an attack; he also reckoned, with true African craftiness, that it would be more advantageous to himself to fall upon us on our way back from the Monbuttoo. He imagined, moreover, that all our valuables which he now so contemptuously rejected would fall into his hands without the necessity of any ivory traffic at all, and that our stores (as being an unnecessary burden to be carried to the Monbuttoo and back) would be deposited in his charge until our return; and in addition to all this, it is not unlikely that he counted with some certainty upon receiving plenty of presents from the liberal Kenoosian.

PRECAUTIONS.

In order to be ready in a moment for any emergency, our caravan for the first time, on the 28th of February, set out on its journey with its disposition arranged according to the rules of Nubian warfare. The entire body being drawn out in columns, the whole of the armed force was divided into three companies, each headed by its own banner. In front of all marched the first division of the troops, followed by the bearers with the linen goods, the bars of copper, and the store of beads; in the middle of the train was the second division, which had charge of the bulk of the ammunition, chests of cartridges and boxes of powder and caps; then followed the women and female slaves, whilst the third division brought up the rear. For the general security it was ordered that no straggler should be permitted to lag behind or to go farther back than the standard-bearer at the head of the third division. From the nature of the path all were obliged to march in single file, and thus our train, although as compact as possible, swelled out to an enormous length. Independently of the main body, a troop of native soldiers, composed of Bongo and Niam-niam slaves, that had been armed and well trained by Aboo Sammat, was now detached to reconnoitre the thickets in front and on either hand, and to make sure that the advance was safe. As a general rule, these blacks made much more effective soldiers than the Nubians, and upon them fell the heaviest of all the work of war. Their employment of hunting, which is a pursuit much too laborious for their oppressors, makes them far more expert and practised shots, and besides this, they are heartier in their work and fear neither wind nor weather.

Whilst all the Nubians who carry guns are dignified by the high-sounding title of “Assaker” (soldiers), the natives who may be enlisted are called in the common jargon of the Soudan Arabic, either “Narakeek,” “Farookh” or “Bazingir.” The precise etymology of these various designations I could never ascertain. There are, however, some words which occur so frequently in the conversation of the Khartoomers that they become indispensable for fully describing the details of service in the countries of the Upper Nile. The “Narakeek,” for instance, would appear to be the only men who are trusted with the heavier guns, of which a considerable number, originally intended, no doubt, for elephant-hunting, are now found in the companies of the Khartoomers, and form what might be called their artillery. Mohammed Aboo Sammat had twenty of these guns, of which I ascertained that the majority were manufactured by Roos of Stuttgard. They are not loaded either with conical shot or with explosive bullets, but merely with a handful of heavy deer-shot; their action is very effective, and their first discharge amongst a party of savages rarely fails to send them scampering off at full speed.

It was in crossing the beds of the brooks and in getting through the thickets that bounded them that the greatest precautions were requisite. All our long experience had made us quite aware how easily a caravan may be thrown out of marching order and put into the greatest confusion by the mere irregularity of the soil, and under such circumstances every attempt at defence must be unavailing: bullets might do some service when deliberately aimed at an open foe, but would be utterly useless when fired at random from amidst a labyrinth of trees or in the obscurity of a thicket.

CAMP-LIFE.

Between three and four hours were occupied in reaching Rikkete’s mbanga. Half-way on our road, after crossing three smaller streams, we came to a larger one, which, like the others flowing to the south and to the east, passed near the hamlets which lay contiguous to Nduppo’s frontier. Here we halted for our morning meal. The bearers ransacked acre after acre for the sweet-potatoes which were in cultivation in this district, where also, for the first time in our descent from the north, we found manioc plantations of any magnitude. Only in deference to an express order that the poultry which was running about the forsaken huts should be respected as the property of others, did the people abstain from catching the hens and chickens that were within their reach, but it was an act of self-denial, and they were compelled to content themselves with plantains cooked in ashes. Altogether it was a motley picture of African camp-life: the ravaged lands, the chattels of the fugitives scattered all around, the variety of platters, the corn-bins, the wooden mortars, the stools, the mats, and the baskets, all tumbled about at the pleasure of the intruders, conspired to make a spectacle of confusion so utter and so hopeless that, the only relief was in resignation.

Beyond the stream our path turned directly to the south; hitherto its direction, though winding, had been mainly west. The continual fluctuations in the level of the land made me suspect that we were really approaching that watershed of the Nile for which I had been looking with such eager and impatient expectation. The ground, that had been sloping down towards the west all the way to Nduppo’s mbanga, we now found sloping down towards the east, so that the streams that proceeded from this district to meet the Yubbo for a while flowed in a direction exactly opposite to that of the stream they were about to join. A comparatively important stream, the Lindukoo, at a little distance received all these other streams into its channel and was the last water connected with the system of the Nile that we had to cross. Over steepish hills, along defiles of slippery clay and through clefts and ravines which the rain-torrents had capriciously hollowed out, our road led us onward to Rikkete. Contrary to our expectations we were received amidst the mingled noise of drum and trumpet, whilst a deputy from the chieftain stood in front of his huts to bid us welcome.

We encamped upon some ground that was still fallow, for the few showers that had fallen were only the forerunners of the settled rain which lasts from May till October, and had had little effect upon the soil, so that the sowing of the crops had not yet commenced. Our camp was close to some groups of huts that were inhabited by Rikkete’s wives and retinue; and behind it, under the shadow of imposing banks, flowed a brook called the Atazilly.

Mohammed entered into very amicable relations with Rikkete, and not only obtained some valuable tusks from him by way of traffic, but secured an ample supply of provisions for the immediate use of the caravan. Towards evening some messengers arrived from Wando, confirming his friendly intentions and bringing, as peaceful pledges, an offering of flasks of eleusine-beer. At night we were in company with Rikkete, and Riharn my cook, who had but few opportunities of displaying that skill in the culinary art which he prided himself upon learning in the large hotel at Cairo, prepared some farinaceous dish in the European style with which I entertained the Niam-niam magnate. The article that seemed to puzzle the people most was our sugar; they could not comprehend how it should have all the appearance of stone and yet melted in the mouth, tasting like the juice of their native sugar-cane, which was cultivated among them, although not to any great extent.

Before tasting the proffered beer, Mohammed insisted upon Wando’s emissaries emptying one gourd-shell after another for their own enjoyment, a proceeding which had the effect of considerably elevating the spirits of the party. The Nubian soldiers, pleased at the pacific turn that matters had taken, passed the night in chanting their carols, accompanied by the strains of the tarabuka; and the Bongo and Mittoo revelled and danced for many hours in their own fashion to the sound of their kettle-drums and horns.

DIVISION OF THE FORCE.

There seemed now to remain no further obstacle in the way of the separation of the two companies; and, in order to complete the preliminary arrangements for the division, it was decided that we must remain for a whole day with Rikkete, a determination which was hailed by myself with much satisfaction. Ghattas’s corps was to be accompanied by a detachment of one hundred of Aboo Sammat’s soldiers, and to take its departure for what formerly had been Keefa’s territories in the west and south-west, where they hoped to transact a remunerative business, because, in consequence of the absconding of the natives, the main company of Ghattas had been left destitute of any bearers. After the reduction, an armed force of 175 was left for our protection as we proceeded on the remainder of our way to the Monbuttoo.

Early on the following morning I paid Rikkete a visit at his residence in the village, and made him what I considered a handsome present of beads of a pattern superior to what had ever before been seen in this part of Africa. I, however, received no present in return, but on the contrary had to pay for the simplest things with which I was supplied, whether they were sweet-potatoes, colocasiæ, or poultry. The Niam-niam are an acquisitive people, and never lose an opportunity to increase their store of copper, attaching comparatively little importance to any other wealth. Once when I was complaining that in spite of my liberality I could not obtain the most trifling articles for cooking without giving a full price for them, I was met by the true African answer that if they took the trouble to bring me their commodities I must expect to pay for them.

My visit to Rikkete over, I could not resist spending the day of our halt in an excursion. Accordingly, having enlisted the services of some natives as guides, I started off with all my people, who had to carry my heterogeneous appliances, which consisted of guns, portfolios, boxes large and small, cases, ropes, trowels, stock-shears and hoes. Crossing the Atazilly, and wading by the side of the stream through the swamps which were crowded with jungles of amomum as high as myself, and adorned with the rosy blossoms of the Melastomaceæ, I proceeded for three-quarters of a league across the steppe until I reached the stream to which I have referred already, called the Lindukoo or the Undukoo.

Here there opened to my view one of the most magnificent prospects that forest scenery could afford; the gigantic measure of some of the trees was altogether surprising, but yet, on account their various heights, their foliage lay as it were in strata, and the denseness of the ramification wove the branches into a chaos as picturesque as it was inextricable. A merry world of apes was gambolling on the topmost boughs; two of the larger species of monkeys (Cercopithecus) were also represented, as well as members of the Galago family, which are half-blinded by the glare of daylight. The Colobi, too, with their long silvery hair, were conspicuous as they flitted across the dark gaps that were left in the lower branches, or as they scampered along the more horizontal arms of the trees above. Numerous, however, as they were, I had no chance of securing a single specimen, as my shot, when aimed to an altitude of seventy or eighty feet, was spent in vain. The guinea-fowl, as ever, afforded prolific sport, their large grey bodies standing out distinctly against the fresh verdure; but we lost a great many that were hit, in consequence of their falling into the midst of impenetrable masses of shrubs. Accompanied as I was by only a small number of armed men, I could not be otherwise than sensible how completely, if they chose, I was in the power of the natives. I was encouraged, however, to believe that the engagement made was perfectly reliable, as, except under that conviction, consent would never have been given for the armed forces to divide.

My Niam-niam guides rendered me the greatest service; not only did they enter very heartily into my pursuits, climbing up the lofty trees without hesitation to reach the produce of the topmost boughs, but they made me acquainted with the native names of all the plants, and brought me specimens for my close inspection of what otherwise I could merely see at a distance, and in the confusion of promiscuous foliage.

Though the hollow gorge of the river sank for some eighty feet, there were trees at the bottom whose crests were level with the land above. The protruding roots amid the landslips, just as in our own mountain hollows, served as steps; and all along, abundant as in Alpine clefts, there sprung up many a variety of graceful ferns.

RIKKETE’S WIVES.

I proceeded north-west for a considerable distance up the stream, and having laboriously crossed and recrossed the swampy bed of the valley, I returned in the evening to my quarters with my portfolios enriched beyond my most sanguine expectations. Before night, I repeated my visit to Rikkete’s residence, and found his wives sitting on the open area before the huts, and employed in their several domestic ways. My intrusion appeared to give the ladies great uneasiness, and the interpreters themselves put on a grave look of concern and were ominously silent. I was just about to transfer the scene to my sketch-book when Rikkete suddenly appeared. He reproached me vigorously, insisted upon knowing what business I had amongst his wives, and demanded how I presumed to go to his huts without his knowledge or permission. These Niam-niam wives for their part were very passive, and as quiet and reserved as though they had been brought up amidst the refinements of a Turkish harem. Rikkete, too, was soon appeased. He was a true son of the desert; but his general demeanour, the reserve of his bearing, and the moderation of his tone, were worthy of him as a man of royal blood who, conscious of his superiority, could, when he pleased, converse with the most perfect self-possession.

In my subsequent transactions with the natives, I was again offered a great number of skins; this time skins of genets, which were represented in several varieties. I discriminated them into three sorts, according to the number of the stripes made by the spots that ran along the body. The general colour appeared to change with the creatures’ age. The ground colour varied from a light ash-grey to a deep yellowish brown, while the spots ranged from the colour of coffee to a perfect black. In consequence of these diversities zoologists have very probably been misled, and have been all in error when they have described the Viverra genetta as being of several species.

In the glimmer of dawn we were aroused by the accustomed signals. Two of the Bongo in Mohammed’s service had learnt at Khartoom how to blow their trumpets and beat their drums for this important function, and they sounded the Turkish réveil admirably, giving it the full roll and proper compass. In particular, Inglery the trumpeter was superb in his execution, and the astonished woods could not too often re-echo back his clanging notes. The Niam-niam were quite delighted with the strain, and frequently could be detected humming the melody to themselves. Wando and Munza alike were never weary of urging the request that Aboo Sammat would either make them a present of his trumpeter, or allow them to purchase him at any price he might elect to name; but Inglery was the joy and pride of Mohammed, and in his way was quite unique throughout the district of the Upper Nile as far as the banner of Islam had been borne.

NIAM-NIAM DIGNITY.

Our caravan was accompanied by a large number of guides and natives who were eager to show the way, as a stiff day’s march was before us, and a passage over several difficult water-courses had to be accomplished. The morning toilette of the Niam-niam guides was singular enough. In order to protect themselves against the chilly damp of the early dew as they marched along the narrow pathways of the steppes, they covered the entire front of their body with some large skins, which made them look as if they wore coopers’ aprons. For this purpose there is no skin that looks more picturesque than that of the bush-bock, with its rows of white spots and stripes upon a yellow ochre ground. The bearing of the Niam-niam is always chivalrous as becomes a people devoted to war and to the chase, exhibiting a very strong contrast to the unpolished nonchalance of the Bongo, the Mittoo, and even of the finicking Arabians. The Niam-niam might be introduced straight upon the stage, and would be faultless in the symmetry with which they would go through their poses.

Our way took a turn beyond the Atazilly across the same steppe over which we had passed yesterday. After an hour we arrived again at the Lindukoo, which here forms a considerable cataract of some thirty feet deep, falling over the worn and polished gneiss. A thick bank-wood shaded the rocks, which were charmingly adorned with the rarest ferns, and a regular jungle of tangled foliage canopied the depth beneath which the rosy blooming ginger-bushes grew as tall as a man and scented the air with their fine aroma. Just for half-an-hour we halted upon the high and dry levels that we found, and regaled ourselves with refreshment from our store of provisions.

An early rest like this was quite common with us, for in the confusion of our starting at the dawn of day there was seldom any leisure at all to think of breakfast. Our leader, neither proud nor upstart, but like all Nubians, whose finest quality is their sense of equity and brotherhood, munched away amidst a circle of his more intimate associates, to which my Khartoom attendants were admitted, at some cold fowl seasoned with pimento, which was the choicest morsel that the country could supply. With the flowery yams, the sweet-potatoes, and the colocasiæ, which appeared such an invaluable boon to the country, the Nubians could do nothing, so unaccustomed were they in their native place to vegetables of any sort: what they missed most was plenty of their flat cake of kissere; quite voluntarily they renounced all meat. They carried with them a supply of the capsules of the Hibiscus esculentus, dried before they were ripe, and by the aid of the indispensable red pepper and some fat or oily substance, they manufactured a slimy sauce in which they soused their kissere. They were epicures enough to carry with them in a horn their own “duggoo,” which is a kind of pot-pourri composed of every condiment they can procure, being a combination of salt, pimento, fœnum græcum, basilicum, coriander, mustard, dill, and a variety of other ingredients of the kind.

But now for a time the days of kissere and sorghum-pap were over. Now for awhile they had to put up with eleusine, that tiny, scaly, black and bitter grain of which Speke declares that it is sown, because the spades, which do such an amount of mischief to other seeds, leave this uninjured—​the same Eleusine coracana (called teleboon in Arabic and raggi in the West Indies) which on account of its extreme bitterness was condemned by Baker as being putrid and unfit to eat. Leaving it for the people who seemed to enjoy it well enough, he made the remark that “the lion dies of hunger where the ass grows fat.”

There was a general belief in magic. One day, my servant, Mohammed Ameen, would get it into his head that I had found a plant from which I could extract gold; on the next day it would be some wonderful skull that I had found, and from which I knew how to extract the subtlest poison; the day after and I had the luck to kill an antelope because I was in possession of some marvellous root. With plain matter-of-fact these good people cannot get on at all: that every herb must have some medicinal properties and use would appear never to have entered the minds of any but Europeans. “Knowest thou the herb that gives perpetual youth?” is the question that the Oriental asks; and mysterious secrets are yet to be unfolded to the African.

FATALISM.

No one clings more than a Niam-niam to the superstition that the possession of certain charmed roots contributes to the success of the chase, so that the best shots, when they have killed an unusual number either of antelopes or buffaloes are usually credited with having such roots in their keeping. The fatalism, which is exhibited just as decidedly by Mohammedans as by heathens, is such that it does not attach the least importance to the skill with which an arrow or bullet is aimed. This is a reason why the Khartoomers are never practised in the art of shooting; they do not doubt but that whatever is designed for the unbeliever is sure to hit its mark.

The direction which the river Lindukoo was taking appeared to me to be exactly the reverse of that in which flowed the current of the Yubbo; and, in spite of the positiveness on the part of the guides, all their statements left my mind unconvinced, and in a state of considerable perplexity. But two months later when I had again to cross the river some distance further to the East, my presentiment was thoroughly confirmed. The formation of the land just here is very uneven and irregular; quite in contrast to what it was observed to be both previously and subsequently upon our progress. With the Lindukoo, then, I was bidding farewell to the district of the Nile. Many as there had been before who had undertaken to explore the mighty river to its fountain-head, here was I, the first European coming from the north who yet had ever traversed.

The Watershed of the Nile.

Upon this memorable day in my life, I confess I had no real knowledge of the significance of the soil upon which my steps were tarrying, for as yet I could know nothing of the configuration of the country before us. The revelation of the truth about this watershed only became apparent to me after I had gathered and weighed the testimony of the Niam-niam, which sufficiently demonstrated that the next river, the Mbrwole, belongs to the system of the Welle. This river now was an enigma to me, and to unravel the hydrographical perplexities which surrounded it, continued throughout my journey to puzzle my brain; certainly I was satisfied it could never be brought into unison with any of the tributaries of the Sway. A little patience, and the problem was solved.

With the exception of the high ridge on the north of the River Lehssy which the Niam-niam call Mbala Ngeea, there was nowhere, along the entire line from the Gazelle to the Welle, any wide difference observable in the conformation of the land. But southwards from the Lindukoo, it was all uphill and downhill, and through defiles, hill-caps rising and falling on either side, high enough to be prominent over the undulations that were around them. These undulations were everywhere of that red hue which rendered it all but certain that they were only elevations of that crust of recent swamp-ore which is so widely diffused in Central Africa. The higher eminences that rose above were of a far earlier formation, being projections of gneiss, the weather-worn remnants of some primeval mountain ranges, gnawed by the tooth of time, and crumbled down from jagged peaks to smooth and rounded caps. Subsequently, on my return at the end of April, I pushed my way beyond these elevations of the gneiss, and penetrated farther east, into the narrower limits of the watershed.

MUTABILITY OF RIVER CHANNELS.

This uniformity in geological formation of a district so immense, as far as it is known, is certainly very remarkable. The source of the Dyoor is the only exception, and presents some variety in stratification. Everything points to the fact that since the era of the formation of the swamp-ore (spreading as it does from the banks of the Dyoor to the Coanza, and from Mozambique to the Niger) there has been no alteration in the surface condition of the land except what has occurred by reason of the water-courses finding new directions for themselves along the loose and yielding deposit. And even when the elevations are taken into account which have caused whole chains of hills to arise, such for instance as those which encircle the basin of the Tondy, still I am inclined to believe that there too the existence of the valleys and depressions is to be explained by no other hypothesis than the perpetual mutability of the channels by which the streams have forced their way.

Followed in our course from the Lindukoo by a side stream which discharged itself by a waterfall, we arrived at the regular watershed, which, judging by my aneroid, which had not varied for four years, I should estimate at 3000 feet high. Passing onwards we came to a brook called the Naporruporroo which rippled through a gorge some seventy feet deep. The stem of a great tree had been thrown across the chasm, and by means of this we were enabled to pass over without being under the necessity of making a descent. As we proceeded, the peaks of the trees which grew beneath were some way below the level of our feet. After a while, we had first to cross another, and then another of these streams which at no great distance united themselves in one common channel.

The stream I have just mentioned was at the bottom of a valley some eighty feet deep, and as its banks were almost perpendicular the bearers had to make the most strenuous exertions to ascend. They had to help each other up, and the baggage therefore had to be passed on from one to another of the men, and then to be laid down awhile that they might have their hands at liberty to help them as they climbed. To accomplish this difficult passage at all with four-footed beasts of burden it would have been requisite to make a very long and arduous détour. The detention, however, to which the difficulty subjected the caravan was not in any way a loss to me; it gave me time to stay and gather up what I would of the botanical treasures of the place, which in luxuriance seemed to me to surpass all that as yet I had seen. The valley was so deep that no ray of sunshine by any possibility could enter it. The pathway was barely a foot wide and wound itself through a mass of waving foliage. There was a kind of Brillantaisia with large violet blossoms that I found close by the way; and I stayed to arrange in my portfolio, for future investigation, some of its leaves, waiting while our lengthy procession passed along. Squeezed up in a labyrinth of boughs and creepers, and wreathed about with leaves, I sat as though I were in a nest. These opportunities were several times repeated, in which I found I could get half an hour at my disposal, and could botanize without disturbance; then as soon as the caravan had defiled past I took advantage of the first open ground to regain my position near the front.

So numerous were the hindrances and so great the obstacles which arose from the ground conformation of the watershed that our progress was necessarily slow.

About four miles from Lindukoo we reached the Mbrwole, which the Nubians without further description simply call “Wando’s River.” It was here bordered by wood, and had a breadth of about eighty feet, though its depth did not exceed two feet, the flow of the stream being what might be described as torpid. Aboo Sammat’s people gave us all the particulars of the year’s luck in hunting, and dwelt much upon the circumstance of a chimpanzee having been killed, an event which was evidently very unusual. The woods that composed the “galleries” were dense and manifestly adapted to be a resort of these creatures. The fact was of considerable interest as relating to the watershed, because in none of the more northerly woods had I ever been able to acquire any evidence at all that the chimpanzee had been known to exist. It was remarkable that the first trace I found of this race of animals was upon my reaching the first river that was unattached to the system of the Nile. It may be said of the district of Wando, where bank vegetation is most luxuriant and where the drainage is like a complication of veins squeezed from an overcharged sponge, that it is the region which, more than any other, is conspicuous for the abundance of the chimpanzee, which here represents the breed of the West African Troglodytes niger.

ANONACEÆ.

Countless in diversity as were the trees and shrubs, the Anonaceæ, by mere reason of their numbers, must take a very prominent place in the catalogue. A family of plants is this of which, so long as the flora of tropical Africa was unexplored, it was presumed that America was the chief, if not the exclusive habitat. But since our knowledge has been enlarged, and especially since my own investigations in the Niam-niam lands, it has become clear almost beyond a question that Africa is at least as prodigal in the Anonaceæ that it yields as all the tropical districts of America.

Again for two hours we made a pause. The Nubians enjoyed a bright cool bath, the long column of bearers still toiling onwards with their loads. The opportunity to myself was as acceptable as ever, and I continued to secure a new abundance of botanical treasure. By way of variety, intelligence was brought us that a gun had gone off through negligence, and that the ball had rent a hole in the apron of one of the soldiers. Of course there was a great outcry and no end of gesticulating. The culprit took with the most passive resignation the lashing that was assigned him, and then all was forgotten, and something fresh had to be awaited to stir up a new excitement. The people are fatalists of the purest water, and no amount of experience can make them prudent.

Farther on, a march through a flat and open steppe led us after a few miles to a deep glen so thick with wood that it occupied us at least half an hour in crossing. Its bottom was a wide marshy streak over which there was no movement of the water, that seemed to be entirely stagnant. A new type of vegetation revealed itself, one never observed in the Nile lands by any previous traveller. This consisted of the thickets of Pandanus, which were to my mind an evidence of our having entered upon a new river-district altogether, the plant being an undoubted representative of the flora of the western coast.

And now we had to make our first experience of the various artifices by which the transit over these marshes has to be accomplished; not only would it be impossible for a carriage of any description or for any one on horseback to go over, but even when the baggage was conveyed by hand there was the serious risk of anyone seeing all that he most cared for, his clothes and his journals, tumbling from the bearers’ heads and sinking in the filthy slime. Mouldering trunks of trees there might be, but to place the foot upon these was to find them roll like a wave in the waters; others would be too smooth and slippery to allow a step to be trusted to their treacherous support; and then the deep continual holes would either be filled by water or covered with a floating vegetation which betrayed the unwary footsteps into trouble, so that there was no alternative for the bearers but to jump from mound to mound and keep their balance as best they might: to no purpose would they try to grasp at some support; the prickly leaves of the Pandanus, notched and jagged on the edges as a saw, made them glad to withdraw their tortured hand.

CROSSING THE MARSHES.

For miles far away the deserts re-echoed back the shouts of the bearers as they splashed through the waters; and the air around reverberated with the outcry, with the mingled laughing and swearing of the Nubians, and with the fluster of the women slaves as they jostled each other in carrying their dishes, gourd-flasks, and calabashes, through the prickly hedges. Every now and then would arise a general shriek, half in merriment, half in fright, from a hundred lungs, betokening that some unlucky slave had plumped down into a muddy hole, and that all her cooking utensils had come tumbling after. I could not help being on continual tenterhooks as to the fate which would befal my own baggage, particularly my herbarium, which although it was packed up most cautiously in india-rubber, yet required to be handled very gently. My Bongo bearers, however, were picked men, and did their work well. They waded on and never once had any misadventure, so that it resulted that everything, without exception, that I had gathered in these remote districts of Central Africa, was spared alike from loss or damage.

Dressing and undressing on these occasions was tiresome enough, but it was not the whole of the inconvenience. When the task of getting across had been accomplished, there still remained the business of purification; and no easy matter was it to get free from the black mud and slime that adhered tenaciously to the skin. It almost seemed as if Africa herself had been roused to spitefulness, and was exhibiting her wrath against the intruder who presumed to meddle with her secrets. With a malicious glee she appeared to be exulting that she was able to render the white man, at least for the time, as black as any of her own children; nor was she content till she had sent a plague of mud-leeches to add to his discomfort. Naked and shivering she let him stand even in the mist and rain of a chilly dawn; and no help for him till some friendly hand should guide him to a pool where the water still was undefiled, and he could get a wash. And then what a scraping! How ruefully too would his eye fall upon the ugly blood-suckers which clung about his legs! To make these relax their hold, recourse must be had to the powder-flask; and, after all, the clothes would be saturated with the blood that had been shed in vain. As for the things that had been splashed and wetted in the turmoil of the passage, they were laid out either upon a cluster of trampled fern-leaves or upon any little spot that seemed to give them a chance of drying.

The sun was already declining, and we had still three of these bogs to pass over, each with its running stream that would delay us for half an hour or more. Of these three, the second was the largest, and was known by the name of Mbangoh. Notwithstanding the vexation and harassment, to which I was unaccustomed, I found many an opportunity of gathering shrubs and plants of interest from the promiscuous vegetation amidst which we made our way.

The shades of night had gathered, when, after passing the last of the rivulets, we arrived at some farms in a cultivated spot. There was indication of rain, and a great deal of commotion ensued in taking precaution against it; luckily, however, we escaped with only a few heavy drops, and having been relieved from anxiety by a general clearing of the weather, we enjoyed the good night’s rest which our hard day’s toil had earned.

In order that we might arrive at Wando’s residence in good time on the following day, we made our start punctually at sunrise. After we had marched for half a league over open steppe, and had effected our passage over the Dyagbe, the signal was sounded for the morning halt.

ABOO SAMMAT’S INTERVIEW WITH WANDO.

Mohammed here expressed his intention of having a preliminary conference with Wando before we definitively pitched our camp, and borrowing my revolver, as he had done before, he set out with the utmost composure, attended solely by his black body-guard, the Farookh. At the head of these he hurried away at a pace so fast that the lads who carried his arms could scarcely keep up with him. It is characteristic of the Nubians that whenever they have important transactions on hand they always move with extreme rapidity.

Within an hour Mohammed returned, perfectly content with his interview, and proceeded at once to conduct the caravan to the station allotted to it, close to the banks of the Dyagbe, and just about the distance of an arrowshot from the wall of foliage which formed the confine of the primeval forest. Taking their hatchets, the bearers entered the thickets and hewed down long stakes, with which they set to work to construct some huts, my own people meanwhile busying themselves by providing some posts and props which I required equally for the protection of my baggage from the dampness of the ground and for placing it out of the reach of white ants. I had brought some deal boards with me from Khartoom, and by putting these upon the props a convenient arrangement was made for storing in the narrowest compass a good deal of baggage. Space in my tent was necessarily very limited.

Every hand was set to work, and in a very short time a number of pretty little huts were erected with no other material than the fresh grass; and when the baggage had all been properly secured there commenced a brisk and very amicable commerce with the natives. Fine elephant-tusks were brought for sale, and found no lack of ready purchasers. Presents of cloth and beads were freely distributed, for the double purpose of putting the people into a good mood and of inducing them to disclose new resources for procuring ivory. Wando himself appeared arrayed in a large shirt of figured calico, made with long sleeves, which he wore (in the same way as all the other native chieftains) solely out of compliment to the donor. As soon as the visitors withdrew he deemed it an attire below his dignity, and could not condescend to trick himself out in a dress which ordinarily was reserved as a kind of curiosity for his wardrobe.

The cannibal prince, of whom for some days we had been in such dread, looked a harmless mortal enough as he strolled through the camp arm-in-arm with Mohammed’s officers; no doubt they had enjoyed a mutual drink to each other’s health.

The kind of beads which the Niam-niam prefer wearing, when they can procure them, is that which is known in Khartoom commerce as “mandyoor,” consisting of a long polyhedral prism, about as large as a bean and blue as lapis lazuli. Hardly any other kind retains any value at all. Cowries are still used as a decoration on the national costume, but the demand for them is not great, and for ten years past they have not formed at all an important item in the Khartoom traffic. Fashion extends its sway even as far as these remote wildernesses, which have their own special demand for “novelties.”

As medium of exchange, nothing here was of any value except copper and iron, which never failed to be accepted in payment. English copper, which the Khartoomers take with them in long bars about three-quarters of an inch thick, is most in repute; but not unfrequently they make use of the lumps of copper which they obtain from the mines to the south of Darfoor. With any other resources for obtaining copper the inhabitants of the country through which I travelled appear to be hardly acquainted, though possibly the Congo region might, in former times, have found an outlet for its store in this direction. To provide suitable small change for their minor purchases, the expeditions to the Niam-niam always include among their bearers a certain number of smiths, who from the larger bars and ingots fabricate rings of all sizes, from the circlet to go round the arm down to the ring just large enough to fit the finger. These rings are made from quadrangular bars, the ends of which are subsequently reduced to taper points. It may be added, by way of example, that for a finger ring a Niam-niam would give a chicken, although the copper material itself was not worth three farthings.

COST OF IVORY.

Here, at its fountain-head, ivory, as might naturally be expected, may be obtained in barter at a very trifling cost. On the coast of Guinea it is necessary to part with a whole host of commodities, guns, cloth, knives, looking-glasses, and what not, for a single tusk of an elephant; but a Niam-niam is contented if he can get half a bar of copper, which would not be worth more than four or five dollars. Not only, however, would there be some additional presents of cloth or beads, but the weight and transport would have to be taken into account. The prime cost here would probably be scarcely five per cent. of the value of the ivory, which fluctuating, of course, according to quality, generally, on an average, in Europe realises two or three dollars a pound; whilst on the other hand, the same purchase could not be made at the harbours upon the western coasts for much less than 80 per cent. of the gross value. Through the immense outlay which is entailed upon the Khartoom merchants by the support of so many soldiers, and, in fact, from the precarious results of the expeditions, the ultimate profit is really so moderate and it is gained at so much risk, that the ivory trade on the whole is not flourishing. But how matters could practically be mended, or how the expenses of proceeding in the lands of the Upper Nile could be diminished, I confess I have no scheme to propose. The lands are not only so remote from the coast, but they are so far away even from the navigable rivers, that they can never play an important part in the traffic of the world; nor can the railway which it is in contemplation to construct between Khartoom and Egypt introduce any material change into the existing condition of things.

So full of bustle was our camp life that it was not till nightfall that I had an opportunity of inquiring from Mohammed what had transpired during his interview with Wando. I now learnt that the revolver he had borrowed had done him a good turn. He had hurried on in front of his escort, and had gone boldly to the chieftain to reprimand him for his equivocal behaviour; but he had no sooner entered the hut than he was encircled by a troop of Wando’s satellites, who levelled their lances at him in a most threatening attitude. He felt himself a prisoner, but, undismayed, he cried out that his life should cost them a thousand lives, and, snapping the revolver, he dared them to touch him at their peril. The intimidated Niam-niam at once assumed a milder tone, and, thanks, as Mohammed said, to his temerity, everything turned out well.

We remained in Wando’s camp from the 2nd to the 6th of March. The wood at Dyagbe was most luxuriant, and every day it unlocked to me new and untold treasures, which were a permanent delight. Here, too, was unfolded before my gaze the full glory of what we shall in future understand as “a gallery.”

My predecessor, the Italian Piaggia, whose meagre description of the Niam-niam lands betrays, in spite of all, an acute power of observation, has designated these tracts of bank vegetation as “galleries.” The expression seems to me so appropriate and significant that I cannot help wishing it might be generally adopted. I will endeavour briefly to state in what the peculiarities of these “galleries” consist.

In a way that answers precisely to the description which Dr. Livingstone in his last accounts has given of the country to the west of Lake Tanganyika, and which is not adequately accounted for either by the geological aspect of the region or by any presumed excess of rain, there is sometimes found a numerical aggregate of springs which is beyond precedent. These springs result in a perpetual waterflow, which in the north would all be swallowed up by the thirsty soil of low and open plains, but which here in the Niam-niam country is all restrained within deep-cut channels that form, as it were, walls to confine the rippling stream. The whole country, which is nowhere less than 2000 feet above the level of the sea, is like an over-full sponge. The consequence of this is, that many plants which in the north disappear as soon as the fall of the waters deprives them of their moisture, are here found flourishing all the year round; so that all the vales and chinks through which the water makes its way are permanently adorned with a tropical luxuriance. The variety of trees and the manifold developments of the undergrowth conspire to present a spectacle charming as any that could be seen upon the coast of Guinea or in the countries which are watered by the lower Niger. But, notwithstanding all this, the vegetation altogether retains its own specific character up in the higher tracts between stream and stream, and corresponds to what we have been familiar with ever since we put our foot upon the red soil of Bongoland, being a park-like wood, of which the most conspicuous feature is the magnitude of the leaves.

DUALISM OF VEGETATION.

I have previously had occasion to mention how a dualism of the same kind marked the vegetation of the whole country south of the Hoo, where the formation of the land first changed from the monotonous alternations between low grass flats and undulated wood-terraces. It would almost seem as if the reason for the altered law which presides over the water-courses is to be sought in the increasing elevation of the soil, and in the opening of the lower plain of the swamp-ore, which, being furrowed up with a multitude of channels, allows the unfailing supply of all the numerous springs to flow away.

Trees with immense stems, and of a height surpassing all that we had elsewhere seen (not even excepting the palms of Egypt), here stood in masses which seemed unbounded except where at intervals some less towering forms rose gradually higher and higher beneath their shade. In the innermost recesses of these woods one would come upon an avenue like the colonnade of an Egyptian temple, veiled in the leafy shade of a triple roof above. Seen from without, they had all the appearance of impenetrable forests, but, traversed within, they opened into aisles and corridors which were musical with many a murmuring fount.

Hardly anywhere was the height of these woods less than 70 feet, and on an average it was much nearer 100; yet, viewed from without, they very often failed to present anything of that imposing sight which was always so captivating when taken from the brinks of the brooks within. In some places the sinking of the ground along which the gallery-tunnels ran would be so great that not half the wood revealed itself at all to the contiguous steppes, while in that wood (out of sight as it was) many a “gallery” might still exist.

Most of those gigantic trees, the size of the stems of which exceed any of our own venerable monarchs of the woods, belong to the class either of the Sterculiæ or the Boswelliæ, to which perhaps may be added that of the Cæsalpiniæ; the numerous Fig-trees, the Artocarpeæ, the Euphorbiaceæ, and the endless varieties of the Rubiaceæ, must be entirely excluded from that category, and few representatives of this grade belong to the region of the underwood. Amongst the plants of second and third rank there were many of the large-leaved varieties, and the figs again, as well as the Papilionaceæ and especially the Rubiaceæ had an important place to fill. There was no lack of thorny shrubberies; and the Oncoba, the Phyllanthus, the Celastrus, and the Acacia ataxacantha, cluster after cluster, were met with in abundance. Thick creepers climbed from bough to bough, the Modecca being the most prominent of all; but the Cissus with its purple leaf, the Coccinea, the prickly Smilax, the Helmiæ, and the Dioscoreæ all had their part to play. Made up of these, the whole underwood spread out its ample ramifications, its green twilight made more complete by the thickness of the substance of the leaves themselves.

FERNS.

Down upon the very ground, again, there were masses, all but impenetrable, of plants of many and many a variety which contributed to fill up every gap that was left in this mazy labyrinth of foliage. First of all there were the extensive jungles of the Amoma and the Costus rising full fifteen feet high, and of which the rigid stems (like the haulms of the towering grass) either bar out the progress of a traveller altogether or admit him, if he venture to force his way among them, only to fall into the sloughs of muddy slime from which they grow. And then there was the marvellous world of ferns destitute indeed of stems, but running in their foliage to some twelve feet high. Boundless in the variety of the feathery articulations of their fronds, some of them seemed to perform the graceful part of throwing a veil over the treasures of the wood; and others lent a charming contrast to the general uniformity of the leafy scene. High above these there worked themselves the large slim-stemmed Rubiaceæ (Coffeæ), which by regularity of growth and symmetry of leaf appeared to imitate, and in a measure to supply the absence of, the arboraceous ferns. Of all other ferns the most singular that I observed was that which I call the elephant’s ear. This I found up in trees at a height of more than 50 feet, in association with the Angræca and the long grey barb of the hanging Usneæ.

Whenever the stems of the trees failed to be thickly overgrown by some of these different ferns, they were rarely wanting in garlands of the crimson-berried pepper which twined themselves around. Far as the eye could reach it rested solely upon green which did not admit a gap. The narrow paths that wound themselves partly through and partly around the growing thickets were formed by steps consisting of bare and protruding roots which retained the light loose soil together. Mouldering stems, thickly clad with moss, obstructed the passage at well-nigh every turn. The air was no longer that of the sunny steppe, nor that of the shady grove; it was stifling as the atmosphere of a palm-house; its temperature might vary from 70° to 80° Fahr., but it was so overloaded with an oppressive moisture exhaled by the rank foliage that the traveller could not feel otherwise than relieved to escape.

To the European lover of his garden everything at first might seem to be as artistic in its grouping as it was abundant in its luxuriance; but the screaming outcry of the birds in the branches above, the annoying activity of the insect world, and beyond all, the amazing swarms of minute ants which come showering down from every twig upon anyone who intrudes upon their haunts, detract very considerably from the enjoyment of this prodigality of nature. Yet for those who could persevere there was much to compensate in the general solemnity of the scene, for the sound of the rustling of the foliage above could scarcely penetrate the weird shades below. Butterflies gay and busy in countless swarms, with their gleaming yellow wings, gave animation to the repose of the eternal green, and made up for any deficiency of radiant bloom.

Our encampment was but comparatively a few steps away from this unbounded storehouse of creative wealth, so that with the greatest convenience I could prepare within my tent for all my explorations. That dual character of the vegetation to which I have referred offers a great advantage to the botanist in this teeming district. In the damp atmosphere of the western coasts the drying of plants is hardly ever capable of being accomplished without exposing them for a time before a fire, an operation which has generally the effect of inducing a blackness over the specimens which necessarily very materially increases the difficulty of their being scientifically examined when they reach their destination in Europe; but here, except upon a thoroughly wet day, the plants will all dry just as readily as they would in a country where water is the reverse of abundant. When plants have been gathered and dried in the hot steamy atmosphere of Guinea, and corresponding plants have been gathered and dried as they are found in Nubia, the comparison of the two may assist in establishing what relations exist between the bank wood and the steppes of the different countries.

WANDO.

I had already made the acquaintance of Wando’s sons, but hardly expected the honour that Wando himself paid me by visiting me in my tent. A troop of armed men composed his retinue and arranged themselves in a circle round the tent, whilst, with all deference, I made my illustrious guest the offer of my own seat which I had brought with me from the Gazelle. Wando was somewhat below a medium height, but he could show a large development of muscle, and no insignificant amount of fat. His features were of so marked and well-defined a character, that in their way they might be pronounced good, the head itself being almost perfectly round. Nothing took me more by surprise at Wando’s entrance than the perfect self-possession, which might almost be called nonchalance, with which he took the proffered seat. Savage as he was, his composure and native dignity were those of which no European when receiving homage would need to be ashamed. Crossing his arms upon his breast, he reclined one leg upon the other, and began to throw the centre of gravity of his bulky frame so far behind the perpendicular that I was in momentary fear lest the back of my chair which creaked audibly at every movement of the Niam-niam potentate, should be faithless to its trust. It seemed to sigh beneath its burden. Wando reminded me in more than one respect of the portly king of Ovampo, on whom Galton with some trouble forced the crown that had been brought from the theatre. With the merest apology of a piece of skin to cover him, he sat in all but absolute nakedness, revealing the exuberance of fat which clothed his every limb.

It was commonly said of Wando that he was the avowed enemy of all cannibalism. I was informed in various quarters that people from the neighbouring districts had come to him when they found themselves growing too fat, and had declared that they did not consider their lives were safe on account of the men-eaters by whom they were surrounded. But the sentiments of the chieftain did not appear to exercise much influence upon the majority of his subjects, as we only too soon became aware as we advanced farther to the south.

This visit of Wando’s gave me an opportunity of which I did not omit to avail myself of entering my indignant protest against the want of hospitality with which on his part we had been received. I recounted to him by way of contrast the many acts of liberality which had been shown us by the Nubians in general, assuring him that my dogs had received more care from them than I, their master, had received from him, king though he was; to supply my dogs with meat, goats had been killed, and for myself bullocks had never been spared. Wando remonstrated, saying that he had neither one nor the other; but I made him understand that he had plenty of poultry, certainly enough, and more than enough, for me and my people. Finally, I proceeded to let him know what I thought of his hostile demonstration before our arrival; and while I spoke I dashed my fist upon the camp-table which stood before us, till the plates and drinking vessels clattered and jingled again. My personal attendants, however, Mohammed Ameen and Petherick’s old servant, the travelled and experienced Riharn, knew better, after all, than I did, how to take Wando to task. Pointing to me, they made him comprehend that he was threatened with a most certain and speedy judgment if he suffered a Frank to come to the most trifling harm. They charged him not to forget that it was a Frank he was dealing with, and that it was quite within the power of a Frank to make the earth to yawn and from every rent to give out flames that should consume his land. And as they spoke, the interpreters explained all, word for word, to his excited understanding. Intimidated to that degree of which none but a negro is capable, and only eager to avert a miserable fate, he hurried back to fulfil his promise of sending provisions without stint or delay.

A TEMPTING DISH.

Almost immediately afterwards a number of his people came teeming in, bringing not only some lean and half-fed poultry, but a lot of great black earthen pots which they laid down as offerings from their master at the opening of my tent. A revolting smell of burning oil, black soap, and putrid fish rose and stunk in the nostrils of all who were curious enough to investigate, even from a distance, the contents of the reeking jars; to those who were so venturesome as actually to peer into the vessels, there was revealed a dark-coloured stew of threads and fibres, like loosened tow floating between leather shavings and old whip-thongs. Truly it was the production of a savage, and I may say of an indigenous, cookery, such as our progenitors in their primeval forests might have prepared for themselves out of roast rhinoceros or mammoth-foot. There seemed a rebound in the lapse of time. As matter of fact, the caldrons were full of a burnt smoky ragoût made from the entrails of an elephant some two hundred years old, very tough and exceedingly rank. This wonderful example of nature’s earliest promptings was handed first to me by the Bongo bearers, whom I at once begged to accept for themselves the dainty dish of the savages; but even the Nubians, not at all too fastidious generally in anything which their religion permits them to eat, rejected the mess with the greatest disdain.

It had happened some years before, as one of Ghattas’s companies was making their way across Wando’s territories, that six Nubians were murdered in the woods by some natives who had accompanied them to the chase, professing to be their guides. As soon as the Nubians had fired away all their ammunition in shooting at their game they had no means of defence left in their power, and consequently were easily mastered. Mohammed at once sent to demand the six guns, which beyond a doubt were in the possession of Wando’s people—​so anxious was he to prevent the natives from becoming acquainted with the use of firearms. Wando commenced by denying his ability to meet the demand, and then resorted to procrastination; but subsequently, pressed by Mohammed, who declared that the continuance of his friendly relations must depend upon the restitution of the guns, he surrendered four of them, asserting that the others could not be found. Any further satisfaction was not to be expected, because on the one hand there was either no getting the perpetrators into custody, and on the other, even if they could be brought from their place of refuge, no one could be bribed to give any substantial evidence against them.

On the second day after our arrival at Wando’s residence, attended by a considerable number of natives and a dozen soldiers, I made an excursion out for about two leagues northwards along the banks of the Dyagbe. Guereza-monkeys in merry groups were in the foliage above, but I was not fortunate enough to bring down more than a single specimen. According to the statements of my guides, who were hunters by profession, chimpanzees were numerous, but we certainly did not get a glimpse of one. Very weary with my exertions of tramping over the marshy ground I was rejoiced to bring back into camp an ample booty in the way of botanical rarities.

THE LEAF-EATER.

During our travels I had obtained from the Niam-niam who accompanied our caravan an epithet which I never lost in all the subsequent stages of our journey. In their own dialect these people called me “Mbarik-pa,” which would be equivalent to a name amongst us of “Leaf-eater.” It was a designation that reminded me very vividly of my professional brother David Douglas, who fell a martyr to his devotion to Nature, and who was known amongst the North-American Indians as “the Grass-man.”

My Niam-niam interpreter Gyabir, as I learnt some time afterwards, had given his friends some marvellous accounts of the way in which I was accustomed to eat whatever I found growing. He used to relate that I had a habit of dismissing my attendants and getting into a dense thicket where I imagined that I was unobserved, and that then I used with great haste to gather and devour enormous quantities of leaves, and he added that this was the way in which, one day after another, I groped after my ordinary food. Others contributed their observation that I invariably came forth from the woods with an exhilarated expression and quite a satiated look, whilst they were conscious of nothing else than the cravings of hunger. After all it was very natural; for the inspiration which is derived from contemplating Nature can elevate one far above his mortal and bodily wants.

The dominant idea which seemed to be impressed upon the natives by my botanical ardour concentrated itself upon their conviction as to the character of the country where the white man has his home. According to their belief the land wherein the white men spent their lives could show neither grass nor tree, and consisted of nothing better than sandy plain and stony flat. Those amongst them who had been carried away as slaves in the ivory expeditions and had returned again from Khartoom had brought strange accounts of the grim desolation and utter drought of the Moslem lands over which they had passed; and what, they asked, must be the condition of the still remoter countries of the Frank, of whom they only knew that he kept the Turk supplied with cotton-stuffs and guns?

CHAPTER XII.

Poultry-market. Votive pillars and hunting-trophies. Indirect evidence of cannibalism. The chimpanzee in Central Africa, Presents of chimpanzee skulls. New style of huts. The A-Banga. Cultivation of manioc in Central Africa. The Treculia. Cam-wood and muscat nuts. Conflict with natives. Shooting-match and sham fight. Magic lucifers. Mutual interchange of blood. Botanical excursion interrupted. Gyabir wounded. Modes of expressing pain. Female slaves captured. Giant lichens. Tree-termites. Monbuttoo frontier. Reception by Nembey. Northern limit of the oil-palm. Imaginary alarm. Unexpected arrival of Khartoomers. Visit of Bongwa and his wife. Cattle of the Maogoo. Cultivation of the sugar-cane. Interview with Izingerria. Arrival at the Welle. Condition of the Welle. Relations of the stream. Crossing the river. Monbuttoo canoes. New impressions of the heart of Africa. Arrival at Munza’s residence.

At sunrise, on the 6th of March, we took our departure from the abode of Wando. For our security on the way, the caravan was attended by a number of guides which the chieftain had placed at our disposal. Just before starting, the intelligence arrived of the death of Nduppo, the alienated and hostile brother of Wando. A party of armed men had been despatched by Wando, and after a short conflict they had killed the enemy. Nduppo’s wives and children had taken refuge in Mohammed’s Seriba, where they met with a hospitable reception and were provided with the residence and provisions that were necessary for their support.

According to a custom which is generally recognised in Central Africa, whenever a caravan mistakes its way and is obliged to retrace its steps and return to a road from which it has deviated, a bough is thrown across the wrong path and a furrow is scratched in the ground by means of the feet, so that no succeeding caravans may fall into the same error. This duty is entrusted to the people accompanying the standard-bearer in the rear.

The route of the first day led us along the right bank of the Dyagbe, past Wando’s tall conical huts, and through a gallery of picturesque wood scenery. Having forded the stream which, plentifully supplied with water, resolved itself into several channels, we rested on the farther side amidst the outlying homesteads of the district. The startled inmates made a momentary escape; but soon recovered from their alarm, and returning to their dwellings commenced a brisk business in selling poultry all along our line. The men alone, however, brought their fowls, tied up in bundles, to the market; the women kept themselves quite aloof. After a brook of smaller dimensions had been crossed and some more groups of huts had been left behind, the caravan arrived at a stream of considerable magnitude known as the Billwey, but which so much resembled the Dyagbe in the shady character of its banks that it might very easily be mistaken for it. Then ensued two of the “gallery” paths, the first being quite small, the other somewhat larger and known by the name of Mono. The district still seemed to be fairly populous, and from all sides we were met by people who came to us partly to offer their services as guides, and partly to learn what particulars they could about the intentions of the caravan. There was a coming and going which a European might compare to the bustle of a general holiday at home.

Without stopping, however, we continued our progress, and by noon we reached a brook called Diamvonoo, one of the gallery streams, of which the banks were enclosed by dwellings. Here we halted close to the huts of the superintendent of the place.

NIAM-NIAM HAMLET ON THE DIAMVONOO.

TOKENS OF CANNIBALISM.

The Niam-niam residences seem never to fail in having some posts which the natives erect for the purpose of displaying, in proof of their bravery, whatever trophies of success they have gained either in hunting or in war. To this practice, as established on the Diamvonoo, my osteological collection is indebted for some considerable additions. Attached to the projections of these memorial posts were skulls of antelopes of many a species, skulls of little monkeys and of great baboons, skulls of wild boars and of chimpanzees, and I must not hesitate to add, skulls of men! These were in some cases quite entire, whilst in others they were mere fragments. They were fastened to the erections like the presents on a Christmas-tree, but instead of being gifts for children, they were treasures for the comparative anatomist. Too decisive to be misunderstood were the evidences of the propensity to cannibalism which met our astonished gaze. Close to the huts, amongst the pile of refuse, were human bones, which bore the unquestionable tokens of having been subjected to the hatchet or the knife; and all around upon the branches of the neighbouring trees were hanging human feet and hands more than half shrivelled into a skeleton condition, but being as yet only partially dry, and imperfectly sheltered by the leaves, they polluted the atmosphere with a revolting and intolerable stench. The prospect was not inviting, and the asylum offered to travellers was far from tempting; but we did not suffer ourselves to be discouraged, and made up our minds to be as comfortable as we could in our little huts.

Without loss of time I betook myself naturally to the chase for trophies, Mohammed entering with so much zeal into my pursuit after the skulls of some of the chimpanzees, that he clambered up one of the votive pillars. This drew upon us the eyes of the astonished natives, and their amazement seemed to be especially directed to the circumstance of our taking so much trouble into our own hands. “You have plenty of slaves,” they said, “you are chieftains and have authority; how is it that you are not ashamed to work for yourselves in the way you do?” This, probably, was spoken in derision, or probably in a measure as a reproach to us for appropriating what did not belong to us. However, I put on the air of munificence, and set matters all right by a prodigal distribution of copper rings.

Taking into account the large number of skulls of chimpanzees, more or less perfect, which I saw in the hamlets on the Diamvonoo, I am sure that I am quite justified in my impression that this spot must be one of the centres from which these creatures circulate their kind. Upon the Western African coasts the prevalence of the chimpanzee breed is very considerable, extending from the Gambia down to Benguela. But in the interior, on the other hand, the haunt of the chimpanzee hitherto has been supposed to be limited to the country of the Niam-niam. Previous to my arrival the Khartoom people had been the means of securing some defective skins, which were sent to various museums, and these were quite sufficient to confirm the fact of the existence of chimpanzees in that quarter. But so great was the variety in age and kind, so marked the difference in these beasts according as they came from one district or another, that a whole series, it appeared, of varying species had to be distinguished and arranged by means of material which was totally inadequate for scientific classification. Nearly all the specimens at hand were those of very young animals, and no mammal is known which as it grows older is subject to more decided changes in its external appearance than the anthropomorphic ape.

I am not speaking of Du Chaillu’s gorilla. This largest of all apes is sufficiently known, and its specific stability is no longer a matter of doubt. Its range, however, is apparently very limited, as hitherto it has only been found in the delta of the Ogowai.

TROGLODYTES NIGER.

On the other hand the chimpanzee, as it exists far and wide in the west of Africa, has, in consequence of its individual and collective features, been divided into a long series of supposed species, varieties, and races, about which the most skilled investigators in this branch of natural history are by no means agreed. In one point they seem to be unanimous, and all concur in recognising the Troglodytes niger, E. Geoffr., as the progenitor or the normal type of this series of anthropomorphic apes.

The chimpanzee of Central Africa, to judge from the specimens that have found their way to European museums, differs in many respects from the true Troglodytes niger, E. Geoffr., and may be accounted as a separate race which in the lapse of time has developed itself, and adapted its condition to subsistence in far out-lying regions. Professor Giglioli, of Florence has classified it as a subsidiary kind or sub-species, to which he has assigned my own name, because, in 1866, I was the first to bring any definite information about it. In a work[47] elaborated with the utmost care he has collected every detail that science offered to his hand. According to Giglioli the chimpanzee of the Niam-niam countries was distinguished from the Troglodytes niger of Western Africa by the large capacity of its brain chamber, which he thought could very probably not be matched by any other species. We are indebted to Professor R. Hartmann, of Berlin, for a monograph[48] which has collected into one view, and may be said to exhaust, all the material which has hitherto been brought to bear upon this topic. From a comparison of a very large number of specimens of very various origin, he has come to the conclusion that the Niam-niam chimpanzee has no such marked distinction as to isolate it in a systematic sense, and that notwithstanding some subordinate characteristics of race, it must still be reckoned as one amongst the many forms of the Troglodytes niger.

In modern times there are no animals in creation which have attracted a larger amount of attention from the scientific student of nature, than these great quadrumani, which are stamped with such singular resemblance to the human form as to have justified the epithet of anthropomorphic. The most distinguished zoologists and anatomists have devoted to them their best and undivided attention, and their industry has resulted in the publication of splendid works in illustration of their studies. The labours of Giglioli and Hartmann indicate a still further advance in these strivings after truth. These inquiries cannot fail to be as supremely interesting to man, as the crown of creation, as the prospect of the ultimate solution of the problems of ethnography still hidden in the heart of the continent of Africa, must be to the civilised nations of Europe. But all investigation at present only leads human intelligence to a confession of its insufficiency; and nowhere is caution more to be advocated, nowhere is premature judgment more to be deprecated, than in the attempt to bridge over the mysterious chasm which separates man and beast.

Justly enough has Hartmann expressed his indignation against those ephemeral writers and those dilettanti, who, incapable of scientific research and unfurnished with scientific material, have ventured to handle the topic of the “anthropomorphic apes.” These empty theorists, when they circulate their baseless, or at least their unripe, hypotheses, may perchance persuade themselves that they have mastered the doctrine either of the elevation of the ape or the deterioration of man; but in reality they have done nothing but aggravate the bewilderment which already had turned the heads of a half-wise generation.

CHIMPANZEES.

It was getting well onwards towards night, and by the red glare of the pitch-torch which is the invariable resource for lighting the Niam-niam huts, I was getting my supper, in the simplicity of the primitive times of creation, off sweetened plantains and tapioca, when I was interrupted by a visit from some of the natives who lived close at hand. They had come to dispose of a collection of fine skulls of the chimpanzee, and I effected the purchase by means of some large copper rings. The people told me of the abundance of these creatures in the adjacent woods, and related a number of the adventures which had befallen them in their arduous attempts to capture them: they promised, moreover, to bring me some further contributions for my collection, but unfortunately I could not wait to receive them; we could not prolong our stay because of the scarcity of provisions, and we had to start betimes on the following morning. Altogether I made an addition of about a dozen skulls to what I had previously secured, but many interesting fragments I much regretted being obliged to leave behind, having no alternative on account of my limited means of transport.

It was not my good fortune to witness a chimpanzee hunt. This is always an arduous undertaking, involving many difficulties. According to the statements of the Niam-niam themselves the chase requires a party of twenty or thirty resolute hunters, who have to ascend the trees, which are some eighty feet high, and to clamber after the agile and crafty brutes until they can drive them into the snares prepared beforehand. Once entangled in a net, the beasts are without much further difficulty killed by means of spears. However, in some cases they will defend themselves savagely and with all the fury of despair. Driven by the hunters into a corner, they were said to wrest the lances from the men’s hands and to make good use of them against the adversary. Nothing was more to be dreaded than being bitten by their tremendous fangs, or getting into the grasp of their powerful arms. Just as in the woods of the west, all manner of stories were rife as to how they had carried off young girls, and how they defended their plunder, and how they constructed wonderful nests upon the topmost boughs of the trees—​all these tales, of course, being but the purest fabrications.

Amongst the Niam-niam, the chimpanzee is called “Ranya,” or “Manjarooma;” in the Arabic of the Soudan, where long ago its existence seems to have been known, it was included in the general name of “Ba-ahm.” The life which the Ranya leads is very much like what is led by the ourang-outang in Borneo, and is spent almost entirely in the trees, the woods on the river-banks being the chief resort of the animals. But in the populous Monbuttoo country, where the woodlands have been thinned to permit the extensive cultivation of plantains, the chimpanzees exhibit a great fear of man, and pass their existence in comparative solitariness. Like the gorillas, they are not found in herds, but either in pairs or even quite alone, and it is only the young which occasionally may be seen in groups.

For three leagues we advanced on the next day towards the S.S.W.; and this was the general direction, with little variation, by which we continued our progress to the Monbuttoo. During this short interval we crossed no less than five water-brooks, each of them bounded by its “galleries,” and halted at last upon the right bank of a sixth which was named the Assika. It was close to the quarters of a chief whose name was Kollo. With the exception of a slight elevation lying to the right, the whole surface of the land between the streams was level steppe. The borders of these streams were all well-populated; the soil was entirely under cultivation, and appeared to be very productive. We found ourselves here amidst a tribe, differing widely in habits and dialect from the Niam-niam, and which bore the semblance of being a transition population allied to the Monbuttoo who occupied the districts in our front.

THE A-BANGA.

This tribe is distinguished by the name of the A-Banga. They are said to have come across the wide desert, which bounds the territories of the two nations, and quite recently to have migrated into the lands of the Niam-niam, submitting themselves voluntarily to the sway of Wando. A very similar migration, resulting in the partial blending of the two people, seems to have occurred in the west, where the A-Madi,[49] driven out by over-population, their product of roots and plantains, which they obtained without toil, being inadequate for their support, resorted to the Gangarra hills of Indimma. Some chance few of the A-Madi were found intermixed with the A-Banga. Both of these could be thoroughly identified with the Monbuttoo by their habits and mode of life, but with regard to dialect, they would seem to have been much influenced by their intermixture with the bordering population of the Niam-niam. The last home which they occupied as a clan was the populous province which the Monbuttoo king Munza now possesses to the north of the Welle. As the greater part of the A-Banga are quite capable of speaking the Zandey (or Niam-niam) dialect, I had no difficulty by the aid of my interpreters in holding conversation with them; beyond the Welle, however, there were very few with whom they were able to converse.

The first hamlets of the A-Banga which we entered, made it at once clear that they adopted quite a different style of building their huts to what we had already seen. The conical form of the roofs, employed as it is in nearly every other region of Central Africa, here began to give place to the roof with a gable end which is universal farther south. The square huts themselves were sometimes constructed with posts and left open like sheds, and were sometimes enclosed by four walls.

The dress and war equipment of the A-Banga are the same as those of the Monbuttoo. The ears of both sexes are pierced so that a good thick stick can easily be run through the aperture, and for this purpose the concave portion of the ear is cut out. As a consequence of this custom both the A-Banga and the Monbuttoo have acquired from the Nubians the name of the Gurrugurroo (derived from the word gurgur which signifies “bored”) to distinguish them from the Niam-niam, which is their term to denote all cannibals. The A-Banga and Monbuttoo also practise circumcision, whilst the Niam-niam abstain entirely from any mutilation of the body.

An A-Banga.

Turned up into a high chignon, the hair is worn by the women of the A-Banga without any head-covering, the men commonly adopting the mode of the Niam-niam, who wear a straw hat without a brim. Some of the men, however, as in the accompanying portrait, make a compromise between the Monbuttoo and Niam-niam fashion, wearing the hair in the Monbuttoo style about the forehead and temples, and discarding the chignon for the tufts worn by the Niam-niam. The small apron which they wore was not, as with the Niam-niam, made of skin, but from the bark of the Rokko fig-tree. The shields did not consist of the oval wicker-work of rotang, but were four-cornered tables of wood of a length sufficient to protect the entire body. In place of the trumbash and Niam-niam lance, they carried the lances, scimitars, and bows and arrows of the Monbuttoo. The women go all but entirely naked, wearing nothing but a fragment of the bark of the fig-tree. Just under the arms, in the same way as the Monbuttoo women, they bind a stout and broad strip of some woven material, which when they sit upon their benches and low stools hangs across their lap, and serves as well for a girth in which to carry their little children.

CULTIVATION OF MANIOC.

In this intermediate district between the corn-lands and the lands in which roots or fruits were cultivated, the fertility was very wonderful, and the agricultural labour that was applied was very great. Besides eleusine and maize there were many patches of penicillaria: amongst earth-products I observed yams, helmia, colocasia, manioc, and the sweet-potato; amongst various other leguminous plants there grew the catyang or rawan-bean (Vigna sinensis), the horse-bean (Canavalia), the voandzeia, and the Phasæolus lunatus; the oily fruits included earth-nuts, sesame, and hyptis; whilst there still remained room for Virginian tobacco, for the sugar-cane, for the Rokko fig-tree, and for large numbers of plantations of plantains (Musa sapientium).

Manioc plays an important part amongst the plants cultivated in this region, both on account of the yield it gives and the small amount of labour required in its cultivation. Here, as in Guiana and Brazil, it seems to delight in a soil that is rather moist and somewhat shaded, and accordingly the position which is usually chosen for its culture is just on the border of the “galleries” on the open steppe. The end of April, at the real commencement of the rainy season, is the best time for planting it. The plant is of a leafy growth, it has hardly any wood, and attains a height varying from three to six feet; the mode of planting it consists simply of breaking off some pieces about a span long, and burying them in the soil which has been superficially broken up. It is quite unnecessary to trench it, since the soil is naturally very light and loose, being composed principally of rotten leaves. As the manioc is a year and a half or two years before it produces strong tubers, it is customary to use the ground between the rows, by planting, as is done elsewhere, various other crops, either of maize, colocasia, or yams. One great advantage connected with the manioc is the length of time for which the tubers may be left in the earth after their full development: provided only the ants can be kept from them, they will remain in good condition for two or three years; consequently they do not require to be housed, and their culture admits of leaving the granaries free for other provisions, in a way quite different from most tubers, which would soon perish if suffered to remain in the wet soil.

The gathering is nearly as simple a process as the planting. Each single plant is pulled away from the loose earth, and the tubers are allowed to remain attached. In quality and size they differ very materially. As the death of our poor Bongo bearer had testified, some of the varieties when eaten in a crude form are most poisonous, and even when boiled they are very injurious unless the fibrous fringes have been removed from the hearts. Scientific analysis has shown that they contain a certain proportion of prussic acid, and there is no doubt that their leaves when bruised emit the decided odour of bitter almonds. The unwholesome kinds are generally of small growth, and as a rule are of very woody texture. The finer and nutritious sorts grow as large as a man’s arm, and being very tender may be eaten with no more misgiving than the camanioc of Brazil, which is the form of the vegetable for which a great partiality is shown by the Monbuttoo south of the Welle.

No one can have travelled much in the tropics without being tolerably acquainted with the mode commonly practised of dressing the manioc. I will therefore only pause to mention that the method followed here of getting rid of the poisonous matter does not consist so much in expressing the juices as in cutting up the tubers into pieces, and allowing them to remain in water for more than four-and-twenty hours; the result is that they get a very tainted flavour, which, however, disappears again in the process of drying. A long boiling finally prepares the manioc for eating. The yield of starch, which is known as South American tapioca, is estimated as one third of the weight of the fresh tubers.

Very probably, I should think, manioc has found its way to this extreme limit of its culture from Angola, by means of the intercourse of the people with the states under the dominion of Miwata Yamvo, many of whose customs appear to have been transferred to the Monbuttoo. But in all the northern parts of the Nile region the cultivation of manioc is still unknown, and although it has made its way into nearly all countries on the coasts within the tropics, it has not advanced towards Egypt as far as Nubia, or towards Arabia as far as Abyssinia.

Thoroughly authenticated, meanwhile, stands the fact that it was originally planted by the Portuguese upon the western coasts, and first of all in Angola. An inference may very fairly be deduced that in this way various other plants, such as maize and tobacco, were introduced into Africa, and only became naturalised at some date subsequent to the discovery of America.

After scrutinising this district as fully as I could, I was surprised never to find a single instance of the existence of the Carica papaya, which has now for so long become indigenous to all the maritime tropical countries of the world. Barth speaks of its abundance in the states of Haussa, and other travellers in the tropics have made frequent mention of its growth, but I do not remember finding it in Egypt except as a garden curiosity, while in Nubia and Abyssinia I never met with it at all. I was the first to introduce tomatoes into the district of the Gazelle, and I have no doubt that ere long they will be extensively grown even in the most central localities of Africa. Cultivated so easily as they are, they nevertheless seem to be utterly wanting throughout all the wild districts that have been hitherto explored in the southern portion of the continent.

On the 8th of March some ivory business on the part of Mohammed entailed the break of a day in our continued march. The respite afforded me an opportunity, which I readily embraced, of making a botanising trip to the rich galleries of the woods on the Assika. Bribed by a few copper rings, some natives willingly came with me and were of infinite service in getting me the produce of some gigantic trees which otherwise had been quite inaccessible. Amongst these trees I may specially mention a Treculia, eighty feet high, known as the “pushyoh,” one of the family of the Artocarpeæ. The great globular fruit of this was larger than my head, and seemed to realise the wish of the peasant in the fable where he longed for a tree which would grow pumpkins. I stood and gazed with astonishment at the A-Banga, who seemed to have all the nimbleness of monkeys. By taking hold of the boughs of the smaller trees, and bending them down sideways, and tearing down the long rope-like creepers, they contrived to climb the tallest and the smoothest stems. Some of the trees were ten feet in diameter at the base, and had a bark without a wrinkle; not unfrequently they ran up to a height of some forty feet without throwing out a single branch, standing, as it were, like the columns of a thousand years in the piazzas of the Eternal City.

I had made some chain-shot, but neither by means of this nor by the use of my heaviest single bullets could I succeed in getting any specimens of the fruit which grew on the tops of the tallest trees; my ordinary shot, however, sufficed to bring down some detached leaves, from the examination of which I was able to form an opinion as to the true scientific character of these giants of the wood. My proceedings appeared to confirm the impression which the natives began to form that I must be a leaf-eater.

Here on the Assika I found a kind of muscat-nut (Myristica), and here too I gathered the first examples I had seen of the West African cam-wood (Pterolobium sandalinoides), which after it has been pulverised is commonly used as a favourite rouge for the skin of the Niam-niam and Monbuttoo men. The women, in both districts alike, are accustomed to stain themselves by preference with a black dye that is extracted from the pulp of the Gardenia fruit, known as blippo. Here, likewise, I again saw another of the notorious towering trees of Africa, the mulberry-tree of Angola, which Welwitsch has asserted is known to grow to a height of 130 feet.

OPPOSITION.

Reverting for a moment to what had transpired before, I may mention that, on the preceding day, we had had our first disagreement with the native population. Just before we reached the Assika we were about to halt for a few minutes’ rest, when, although our caravan was accompanied by Kollo and Bakinda, the chiefs of the district through which we were pushing, the owner of the land came and began to inveigh against us with the most abusive language, and, brandishing his spear in defiance, opposed our intention to advance. He wanted to know what right the Turks had to come spying out his place, and declared that he would not submit to have them defile any of his quarters. An outbreak seemed imminent; a mischievous combination was only too likely, when, acting on Kollo’s advice, Mohammed managed to quiet the uproar. He proceeded without further parley to set light to one of the straw huts which was being used as a granary; and it would be impossible to exaggerate the fright and amazement of the natives when they saw him take the flaming fire out of his hand. One single lucifer match had worked a miracle. There was no need of farther measures of reprisal for our protection; when we reached the hamlets on the Assika we found the natives quite amenable to our wishes, and ready to permit us to instal ourselves amidst their dwellings.

In the evening Mohammed established a shooting match. The natives had never been made familiar with the effect of our firearms, regarding them only as clumsy lances, or, as they called them, great “iron sticks,” and Mohammed felt it was desirable to inspire them with a proper respect for the weapons. Selecting one of the thickest of the wooden gates that, according to custom, swung in front of the huts, he set it up for a target, and the general astonishment was unbounded when it was discovered that out of fifty balls at a hundred paces, at least ten had gone clean through the wood. The Bongo bearers were then put through an exercise of feigning an attack. With wild outcry, and still wilder boundings and jumpings, they rushed upon their imaginary foe, representing, in their way, the light cavalry dashing in after the prelude of the roar of the artillery. Then, to complete the illusion of the spectacle, they seized huge clods of earth and great clumps of grass, and so returned, a picture of troops laden with spoil, to the position from which they had started. This was but a sham fight; but a few weeks later, and the scene had to be re-enacted in earnest.

The next movement of the caravan was towards the west. Twice there were some brooks to cross, and after half a league we halted by the Yuroo. We were now in a country with a large population, the whole district being called Nabanda Yuroo, or the “villages of the Yuroo,” as the names of the streams in this region always give their designation to the land. The stream was shadowed in the usual way by the thickly developed growth of the gallery foliage, and took a curve in the form of a horse-shoe. Within the bend were scattered the farmsteads surrounded by large groves of plantains of which the ripe fruit had been already housed. The preparations that were set on foot towards forming a camp without making use of the existing huts either for the shelter of our baggage or for the reception of the superiors, demonstrated at once that a residence here for some days was certainly intended. The pretext alleged for the stay was to allow the Mohammedans to solemnise the anniversary of their new year. The issue, however, did not answer to the expectation.

ENTERTAINING THE A-BANGA.

I had here to exhibit myself to a larger number of curious eyes than usual; but I was able to obtain the measurements of the skulls of some of the A-Banga, whilst others were immortalised in my sketch-book. I had also to provide for the entertainment of the people who came to visit me, and in this respect was greatly assisted by my matches, as the marvel of my being able to produce fire at my pleasure was an inexhaustible source of interest. If ever I handed over a lucifer and allowed them to light it themselves, their rapture surpassed all bounds; they never failed to consider that the power of producing flames resided in me, but their astonishment was very greatly increased when they discovered that the faculty could be extended to themselves. Giving the white man credit for being able to procure fire or rain at his own free-will, they looked upon the performances as miracles unparalleled since the dawn of creation. For myself, I sat composedly apart, as though invested with some mysterious charm; but to say the truth, I was rather bored by this conjuring, which was a stale excitement to me, as it had now entered upon its second year of performance. Still the wonder of the Africans seemed never to cease, and they did not flag in their delight at the instantaneous flame.

The method of obtaining fire, practised alike by the natives of the Nile lands and of the adjacent country in the Welle system, consists simply in rubbing together two hard sticks at right angles to one another till a spark is emitted. The hard twigs of the Anona senegalensis are usually selected for the purpose. Underneath them is placed either a stone or something upon which a little pile of embers has been laid; the friction of the upper piece of wood wears a hole in the lower, and soon a spark is caught by the ashes, and is fanned into a flame with some dry grass, which is swung to and fro to cause a draught, the whole proceeding being to marvel which might well-nigh eclipse the magic of my lucifer matches.

As we were now expecting a forced campaign of two days through the wilderness, on the confines my servants had to apply their attention to the provision of adequate supplies, as whatever we required would have to be carried with us. To accomplish our plan satisfactorily we were obliged to contract a treaty offensive and defensive with the natives, and nothing would suffice for this but a mutual interchange of blood. The circumstance led me for the first time to become a witness of this barbarous, but truly African custom. The words of the pledge are emphatic: “In peace we will hold together; in war we will be a mutual defence.” Osman, one of my people who had come from Berber, being a novice in the ranks of the Niam-niam campaigners, became one of the most enthusiastic adherents to this pledge. In vain I represented to him the unlawfulness of his conduct from a Mohammedan point of view; I threatened that for the future he should be called a heretic and an unbeliever, as bad as a Kaffir; but all to no purpose: he became a blood-drinker by profession, and so obtained from me whatever copper rings and beads were necessary for cementing the bonds of the treaty.

The following day was devoted entirely to exploring the sylvan flora around; to my heart’s desire could I now wander amidst the thickets on the Yuroo, which would have been deemed inaccessible to any one but a plant-hunter.

HOSTILE ATTITUDE OF THE NATIVES.

In the mould formed by the leaves which had decayed beside the stream that parted itself into many a vein, I came across a number of drums, stools, and other specimens of wood-work which the natives had buried in the mud, in order to give them a permanent blackness. This too is the way in which they prepare the reeds of which they weave their shields and matting. The process of rapid superficial humifaction which takes place here, is to be attributed doubtless to the temperature being so much higher than in the temperate zones, where a corresponding degree of decomposition would be the work of years.

Whilst botanising on the Assika we had more than once been taken by surprise at arrows from some unknown hand having fallen very near us. To bend down to pluck a remarkable plant, and to take up some whistling arrow instead, is not a common experience, even in Africa. The hostile and defiant attitude of the natives was too plainly revealed to us, when on the 11th of March the elder of my Niam-niam attendants, Gyabir, was shot in the muscle of his arm. Shrieking aloud in alarm and agony, he flung down my valuable rifle, and betook himself to flight. So dense was the thicket that I knew nothing of the disaster till my other attendants came running up, and terror-stricken began to shout, “They are coming! they are coming!” After this we hurried back to the camp. I was very deeply concerned at the supposed loss of my breech-loader, which I was accustomed to call my “cook,” so serviceable had it been day after day, in bringing down guinea-fowl and francolins for my table. By good fortune, however, one of the Bongo folk had caught sight of the weapon, and soon brought it back to me safe and sound.

Several of the Bongo bearers had also returned wounded more or less by these insidious arrows; none of them were very severely injured, but they came back howling in alarm. Each race seemed to have its own way of giving vent to expressions of woe. The Niam-niam outcry for pain that was sudden, was a sharp “Ow! ow!” but for a continued pain it consisted of a prolonged “Akonn! akonn!” The Bongo cry was “Aoh! aoh!”—​that of the Dyoor was “Awai! awai!” For suffering of every degree the Monbuttoo seem to have a word peculiar to themselves, and on every occasion, however trivial, for a mere push or fall, they will break out into a long-drawn wail of “Nangway! nangway!”

The arrows of the A-Banga and the Monbuttoo differ from those of other tribes by being provided at the extremity of the shaft with two wings, which are made either of hairs from the tail of the genet, or quite as often of bits of plantain-leaves. In their points they correspond with those of the Mittoo-Madi. The points are generally iron, but occasionally they are made of wood which is almost as hard as iron. The shafts consist of the firm reedy steppe-grass, and are of about the thickness of a common lead-pencil. By a cruel refinement of skill which might almost be styled diabolical, they contrive to place one of the joints of the reed just below the barbs, with the design that the arrow should break off short as soon as it has inflicted the wound, making it a very difficult matter to extract the barbs from the flesh. The usual method of extracting a lance-head is to take a knife and make a sufficiently large incision in the wounded muscle for the barbs to be withdrawn; but, in fact, the result generally is that very jagged and troublesome wounds are inflicted.

OUR WOMEN CAPTURED.

No little excitement was stirred up in our encampment when Gyabir came back wounded. I set to work and extracted the arrow by breaking off the shaft, and drawing the head out on the side of the arm opposite to that at which it had entered. All the evening, however, I was too much occupied in my own pursuits to have time to devote to the consultations of the Nubians. As night was drawing on there was a fresh uproar, and the shrieks of women in alarm revealed that some Job’s post of evil tidings had arrived. Three female slaves had gone to the banks of the Yuroo to fetch water for the camp, and had been discovered fatally wounded, whilst six others had disappeared and had evidently fallen into the hands of the A-Banga. A state of war then was manifestly declared; at once a fresh supply of cartridges was distributed to the soldiers, the sentinel-watches were made doubly strong, and a detachment of Farookh was told off and ordered to keep vigilant guard all night. Water for the night was indispensable, and in order to fetch it a number of women went down to the water-side, carrying torches in their hands, and under the protection of a strong escort who fired frequent shots into the bushes.

Mohammed proceeded on the following morning to distribute his force into several companies, and as soon as it was daylight sent them roaming over the environs, commissioned, if possible, to obtain some hostages that might be exchanged for the missing slaves. They found, however, that all the farmsteads had been deserted by their inhabitants, and without accomplishing their purpose they returned to the camp. All the huts and the plantain-groves were spared, but only provisionally. In the event of a thorough rupture the natives in the immediate neighbourhood had more to fear than the remoter people from the indiscriminate revenge of the Nubians, and it was hoped that their influence would avail to secure that the stolen women should be restored. In fact, several of the local chiefs did come in the middle of the day for the purpose of offering some explanation to Mohammed. Mohammed made them clearly understand that unless by nightfall the captives were delivered up every farm and every crop in the district should stand in flames. The warning had its due effect; the restitution was promptly made, and left us, free and contented to prepare for our farther progress towards the south.

Ready enough we were next morning to turn our backs upon the inhospitable quarters, and to postpone a regular warfare until the date of our return, when a conflict seemed inevitable, and we should have but a hostile reception to expect. The Bongo bearers had meanwhile taken good care to replenish their stock of provisions by laying hands on every granary they could, so as to be prepared for the transit over the desert-country which lay between us and the friendly territory of the Monbuttoo. We first passed over the Yuroo, and shortly afterwards we crossed two other streams which flowed into it, each full of water and with well-wooded banks. After marching on for about two hours till we had passed the last cultivated fields of the A-Banga, we arrived at a rivulet which watered an open steppe, and finding some detached and spreading fig-trees, we made a halt and took our morning meal. A very obvious sinking of the land had ensued since our passage over the previous streams, the surface of the soil around being once more marked by undulations.

Onward for two leagues we went over a level steppe which was all but void of trees, occasionally passing over some sandy eminences which had all the appearance of being the remnants of gneiss rocks decomposed by the lapse of time. Comparatively a short period will suffice to obliterate these remnants of rock as the formation of the superficial iron-stone goes on. Altogether the region through which we were passing now presented an aspect very different from the land we were leaving behind, which had been very profusely intersected by a very network of intricate watercourses all bounded by abundant woods. Here the streams all irregular and undefined, twisted their ambiguous way through marshy meadows, their banks being totally destitute of woods; some occasional clumps of Scitaminea being the only plants to be seen. They had to be crossed as best we could at the spots where the herds of buffaloes had trodden down the slime into something of solidity; but the black water was frequently as high as our necks, whilst the mud beneath our feet seemed to have no bottom. Numerous large frogs and a number of land crabs (Telphusa Aubryi) were wallowing in the half-dry pools on the banks.

A STORM.

Especial precaution had to be taken here to protect the baggage and to convey it across the swamps without injury. We had successfully accomplished the passage of two of these difficult fords, when the tokens of a gathering storm made us halt for the night upon the banks of a third before we could venture to proceed. As expeditiously as possible a tent was erected, into which as much baggage was stowed as it could contain, but it was far from being spacious enough to shelter the whole, so that for the greater part of the night the Nubians had to protect it by piling over it great ricks of grass. An entire deficiency of wood made it impossible to extemporize either huts or sheds. The tumultuous confusion, the shouting and the running, the rescuing here, the escaping there, and all amidst the crashing thunder of the tropics, and in a torrent of rain that fell as though the very sluices of the sky were open, conspired to form a study from which a painter might conceive a picture of the Deluge. The meadow-stream by which we were compelled to pass this luckless night had a direction that was easterly, and therefore contrary to that of the rivers we had previously passed; it flowed to join the Kahpily which may be described as a river of the second magnitude, and which unites its dashing flood with the more northerly of the two sources of the Welle, the Keebaly and the Gadda.

Frightfully hungry after the disturbed vigil of the night, but yet still fasting, we proceeded at dawn to take the mudbath which crossing the stream involved. Some Bongo who were adepts at swimming had to go in front and convey great masses of grass and Phrynia, which they let down in the deepest parts to cover the sinking bottom. Going on in the same southerly direction as on the day before, we passed along the sunken ground, and after a while came to a brook which once again was shaded by luxuriant gallery-woods. The path that led through the thickets down to the main arm of the stream had been for so many feet encroached upon by the water, which rose high in consequence of its contracted channel, that the only means of progress was either along the unstable trunks of fallen trees, or through puddles in which it was hard to preserve one’s equilibrium. The narrow rift was cut out from the entanglement of foliage, creepers, roots, and branches, as neatly and smoothly as though it had been trimmed by a knife.

Platycerium Elephantotis, Schweinf.
One-eighth of natural size.

Never before had I seen such wonderful masses of lichens, of which the long grey garlands hung down in striking contrast to the deep green of the foliage above. Just like the “barba espanola” of the forests of the Mississippi, a gigantic form of our Usnea florida here adorned every tree. But a decoration stranger than all was afforded by the Platycerium, which projected in couples, like elephant’s ears, from the branches of the trees; it is one of the most characteristics of all the gallery-flora of the region. Another species of the genus which I had observed in other parts, the Platycerium stemmaria, with its bifurcate leaves, here too finds a conspicuous place.

In these ancient woods, however, there is nothing that could more attract the attention of the naturalist than the wonders of the world of white ants. So assiduous are they in their industry and so inexplicable in their work, that their proceedings might well-nigh tempt a scientific student to take up his permanent abode near their haunts. They construct their nests in a shape not dissimilar to wine-casks, out of thousands and thousands of leaves, which they cement together with a slimy clay, using a strong bough for the axis of the whole, so that the entire fabric is suspended at a giddy height.

This species of white ant (Termes arborum) had been already observed by Smeathman in Western Africa. The partition their buildings using wood-shavings and bits of bark, and in the same way as the forest-ants they make several stories, and set apart nurseries and chambers for the young.

Just as the bottle-gourd of the primeval wilderness offered to a primitive people the first models for their earthenware, so have the structures which the ants contrive from leaves furnished the natives of Central Africa with the general design of all their basket-work. Already I have referred to the corn-baskets of the Bongo as one of the earliest illustrations of the fact that their weaving is but a faithful copy of the building of the ants.

REACHING THE MONBUTTOO FRONTIER.

Coming next to a tract of brushwood, and then crossing two more galleries, on which was displayed all the wild beauty of the virgin forest, we arrived about midday at the stream which marks the boundary of the kingdom to which we were directing our way. The passage across this river occupied us more than half-an-hour, so intricate was the labyrinth of the uprooted trees over which it was necessary to clamber; and the way was made still more difficult by the thorny interlacings of the Smilax and the obstructive jungles of the Rotang.

Whether open by chance or cleared by human hands, it was hard to determine, but there were spaces in the gallery-woods which were comparatively void of trees; over these was spread an abundant growth of plantains, which had a look most perfectly in harmony with the primitive wilderness around. Only on the fallen trees was it possible to effect a passage amidst the confusion of the many channels; for the network of the drooping creepers baffled every attempt to swim. At length, however, all was accomplished, and we were greeted by a view of the hospitable home of the Monbuttoo.

After taking some brief repose on the frontier of the new country, followed by troops of men and women, we proceeded to the residence of Nembey, a local chieftain under King Degberra, who governs the eastern half of the Monbuttoo, whilst the western portion belongs to Munza, a sovereign who rules with a still more powerful sway. The abode of Nembey was situated on a rivulet called the Kussumbo, which rolls on its crystal waters in a deeply-hollowed channel to join the Kahpily. Crossing the stream, we encamped upon some slightly undulated ground, encompassed by low bushes, where we erected some grass-huts that should be perfectly rain-proof. Immediately upon our arrival, Nembey accompanied by a number of his wives, paid me a visit in my tent, and brought me a present of poultry.

Mohammed Aboo Sammat was an old friend and ally of the western king Munza, who was never otherwise than upon a footing of war with his neighbor and rival Degberra. Little therefore could Mohammed have expected in the way of welcome or hospitable reception from the king of the Eastern Monbuttoo, if it had not chanced that his subordinate officer had discovered the advantageous ivory trade which might be opened with the strangers. This is the explanation which may be offered of the courtesy of our reception, and which accounts for the neighborhood all round being free from any peril as far as we were concerned.

The woods on the Kussumbo I found to be an inexhaustible source of botanical treasure. Conspicuous amongst many other examples of the characteristic vegetation were the Raphia, the Elias, the bread-fruit or Artocarpus, and a species of Trumpet-tree (Cecropia) which was the first representative of the American genus that I had found in the continent of Africa. The oil-palm (Elias) is here at the extreme northern limit to which cultivation has ever transferred it, as it is still utterly unknown in all the districts of the Nile. Not until we crossed the Welle did we find it planted out in groves, and to judge from appearances it had only been planted even there for purposes of the experiment.

Upon the day following our arrival at the residence of Nembey, I ventured out without any apprehension of harm into the semi-cultivated plantain-grounds which ran for some miles along the river-banks, passing as I went along series of farms and fields that were under tillage, everywhere observing the women and children sitting in front of their neatly-kept huts and attending to their household duties.

AN ALARM.

The sun was just sinking on the horizon, and we were still enveloped in the thickets shrouded in masses of manioc and plantains, when the report of firearms, volley after volley, coming from the camp, took us by surprise, and induced us without delay to hurry back; such repeated discharges, we could not help suspecting, must too surely betoken some aggression on the part of the natives. We loaded our pieces, and trying to follow the direction of the sound, we started off on our return, but for a time we wandered vaguely about, hardly knowing how to get free of the plantations; we at length managed to reach the villages, from which the way was quite direct. Together with ourselves streamed on a crowd of the residents, who came hurrying out, equipped with their shields and lances, or with their bows and arrows. As we approached the farms we heard the beating of the signal drums, and everywhere at the doors of the huts we saw the women and children, all eagerly bringing from the interior the necessary arms for their husbands and fathers, who were waiting impatiently without. Not knowing whether we were friends or foes, we pushed on all together along the road. Helpless enough I felt myself, as burdened with my heavy boots I tottered over the smooth tree-trunks which had been thrown across the depth of the Kussumbo; behind and before were the excited people, equipped with arms, as frantic as wild Indians, and very naturally the thought rose to my mind, how completely, if they chose, I was within their power.

It did not take long to get through the woodlands, and then again we were out upon the open. One glance at the camps before us revealed the mystery: the Nubians with their swarthy troops of bearers had been doubled in number by the arrival of another company of merchant-people from Khartoum, and in honor of the meeting the usual salvoes had been fired. The new comers were the party belonging to Tuhamy, who was an upper secretary in the divan of the Governor-General, by whose authority I was empowered to claim the hospitality of all the Seribas. To Mohammed’s soldiers the unlooked-for arrival of a number of their countrymen was a welcome occurrence which they celebrated as a holiday but to Mohammed himself the chance meeting was a vexation, from which ultimately, as he foresaw, various unpleasantnesses arose. The territories of Tuhamy’s people were situated on the lower Rohl, their head Seriba is at a spot named Ronga, where they had been established some years previously by the French adventurer, Malzac. They had come directly by the way through the districts of the Mittoo and the Madi; and at the Diamvonoo, (where I had made so large a collection of the skulls of the chimpanzees) they had had such a vigorous conflict with the Niam-niam that for two days they were obliged to defend themselves behind an extemporized abattis against the hostilities of Wando, and had not escaped without some loss of life on their side. Suspecting no mischief, they had arrived at the place just at the moment that our caravan had hurried away to escape the general conflict that seemed imminent, and accordingly, they had found the natives all up in arms and ready for immediate action.

VISIT TO BONGWA.

At midnight a heavy rain set in, which lasted till the morning; and in the uncertainty as to what the weather would be, our departure was delayed long beyond the ordinary hour and we were even at last obliged to start in a thick and drizzling mist. Despite the wet, Tuhamy’s party had gone on in the early morning. We were all anxious about keeping our powder dry; but, for my part, I must own I was more concerned about the safety of my collection, which had been gathered and preserved with so much trouble. A halt was made for an hour in one of the farmsteads on our way and the large open sheds belonging to the local superintendent were of infinite service in providing immediate shelter for the baggage. Our route crossed four streams, all flowing to the south, after which we arrived at the Mazoroody, on the banks of which the line of farms belonging to Bongwa extended a considerable way. Bongwa was a chieftain subject to pay tribute equally to Munza and to Degberra, as his possessions were contiguous to those of both these rival kings. We crossed the river, which was approached by an extensive steppe, which terminated in a declivity that led us downwards for well-nigh 200 feet, and then halting, we proceeded to erect our camp by constructing a number of huts in the best way we could out of the masses of sodden grass.

Bongwa’s Wife.

Accompanied by his wife, Bongwa paid us a visit to camp, and allowed me the unusual honor of taking a sketch both of himself and his better half. The old lady took her seat upon a Monbuttoo bench, wearing nothing else than the singular band, like a saddle-girth, across her lap, in the general fashion of all the women of the country. Like nearly all her race, she had a skin several shades lighter than her husband’s, being something of the color of half-roasted coffee. She exhibited singular tattooing, which appeared to consist of two distinct characters. One of these ran in lines over the shoulders and bosom, just where our ladies wear their lace collars; it was made of a number of points pricked in with a needle, and forming a pattern terminating on the shoulders and breast in large crosses. The other was a pattern traced over the whole stomach, standing out in such relief that I presume it must have been done by a hot iron; it consisted of figures set in a square frames, and looked somewhat like the tracery which is sculptured on cornices and old arches. Bodkins of ivory projected from her towering chignon, which was surmounted by a plate as large as a dollar, fastened on by a comb with five teeth manufactured of porcupine-quills.

BONGWA’S WIFE.

Since Madame Bongwa only intended to pay me a short visit, she did not appear en grande tenue; the picture, therefore, necessarily failed in the black figures which, for full dress were painted on her ample flanks, and which would have given a double interest to the likeness. As a token of my recognition of the steadiness with which she sat during my artistic labors, I permitted her (and this was the greatest the privilege I could afford any of the natives) to put her fingers through my hair, which to her eye was so astonishingly long and sleek.

The first hours of the following morning were spent in making purchases from the natives of a supply of yams and sweet-potatoes; the day, consequently, was somewhat advanced before we could make a start. The strips of grassland, void of trees, into which the numerous rivulets parcel out the district, were here peculiarly narrow; in the course of a single league, we passed over no less than three different streams, and then came to another, the Bumba, which we had to go over twice. Whenever we came to thickets, the Raphia or wine-palm was sure to be prominent, and put every other plant into the shade. Its noble branches are used by the Monbuttoo for making their stools and the seats which they erect upon the roofs of their huts.

A very populous district was soon reached, known as the district of Eddeedy, who being within Munza’s kingdom was tributary to Izingerria, Munza’s viceroy and brother. At this spot, we came again into contact with the party of Tuhamy, which had encamped upon the river Bumba. We had for so long been unaccustomed to the sight that the prospect of grazing cattle came upon us almost as a surprise. At first we were under the impression that Tuhamy’s people must have brought the oxen with them, but the manifest deviation of the beasts from the Dinka type set us to inquire whence they had come. They were of a thicker and shorter build than those we had seen, having a different formation of the skull and very prominent humps. We were informed that they had been a present from King Munza to Eddeedy. Munza himself had some years previously received a large herd of them from the powerful ruler of some people in the south-east, with whom he had concluded an amicable alliance. The tribe who were thus referred to were called by my interpreter the Maogoo, and I imagined that through this word I could get some perception of what Sir Samuel Baker meant when he spoke of the land beyond Lake Mwootan as Ulegga, and its inhabitants as the Malegga.

Taking now a more southerly direction, the road led us over three different streams, which flowed to the west to join the Bumba. On the fourth stream from the Bumba was situated the mbanga of Izingerria. It was somewhat late in the afternoon before we made our imposing entrance, and then we found both sides of the roadway lined with crowds of astonished folks who had come to gaze at our troop. The officials appeared in full state, their hats adorned with waving plumes: they had come attended by their shield-bearers, and had ordered their indispensable benches to be brought with them, that they might receive us at their ease and observe the unusual spectacle we presented with as much convenience as possible.

ENTRY TO IZINGERRIA’S MBANGA.

We took up our encampment on the steppe just beyond the stream which divided us from the circle of huts, which was arranged around an open area, and allotted to the wives and soldiers of the prince. The plots that had been cleared near the little river were for the most part planted with sugar-canes. The canes grew to the size of a man’s arm, but I think they were generally very woody and less soft in their texture than those which grew in Egypt. Except for chewing, the natives seem to have no object in growing them, and have no notion of expressing or boiling the sap, for otherwise, they would not have been so surprised as they were at the bits of loaf-sugar which we gave them by way of putting their experience to the test. The plants thrive very well in the plantations, which are amply irrigated by the numerous ducts of the various streams, and, indeed, they grow in a half-wild condition. Had the natives only a better disposition for industry and a freer scope for traffic, there is no estimating what might be the value of the production which is here so bountifully bestowed.

A VISIT TO IZINGERRIA.

In company with Mohammed I visited Izingerria in his dwelling in the later hours of the evening, and found him sitting on his bench in the open space, surrounded by about a dozen of his satraps. Having been made acquainted with the custom of the country that all officials, all heads of families, and indeed all persons of any distinction, whenever they pay a visit, take with them their slaves to carry their benches, because it is considered unseemly to sit, like Turks or Arabs, upon the ground, I gave orders that some of my people should, on these occasions, invariably accompany me and carry my cane chair. We took our seats opposite Izingerria, and by the assistance of one of the natives, who could talk to my Niam-niam interpreter, I contrived to keep up, despite the labor of a double translation, some mutual interchange of thought till the night was far advanced. Of hospitable entertainment there was not a word; perhaps it was considered inconsistent with the dignity of a formal interview, but there was not even the offer of the usually elusive beer. The consumption of tobacco, however, was quite unrestrained. I could not help observing, without being quite able to account for the circumstance, that my cigars did not in the least appear to attract any notice on the part of the natives, although they were accustomed to smoke their tobacco exclusively through pipes, and were as entirely unacquainted either with the habits of chewing tobacco or of taking snuff as any other of the African negroes who have not been contaminated in these respects by intercourse with Mohammedans and Christians.

The Monbuttoo use pipes of a primitive, but really of a very serviceable description, which they make from the mid-rib of a plantain-leaf. The upper classes, however, not unfrequently have a metal tube, some five feet long, made by their smiths. The lower extremity of the pipe is plugged up, and an opening is made in the side near the end, into which is inserted a plantain-leaf, twisted up and filled with tobacco. This extemporised bowl is changed as often as requisite, sometimes every few minutes, by the slaves who are kept in attendance. The only tobacco which is known here is the Virginian (N. tabacum, L.). With much relish I smoked a pipe of this construction, which was altogether a novelty to me, and I found that it was a contrivance that modified the rankness of the tobacco almost as perfectly as if it had been inhaled through the water-reservoir of a narghileh.

At length the attainment of my cherished hopes seemed close at hand. The prospect was held out that on the 19th of March we might expect to arrive at the Welle. The way to the river led us due south, and we went onwards through almost uninterrupted groves of plantains, from which the huts, constructed of bark and rotang very skilfully sewn together, ever and again peeped out. A march of scarcely two leagues brought us to the bank of the noble river, which rolled its deep dark flood majestically to the west, in its general aspect suggesting a resemblance to the Blue Nile. For me it was a thrilling moment that can never fade from my memory. My sensations must have been like Mungo Park’s on the 20th of July, 1796, when for the first time he planted his foot upon the shore of the mysterious Niger, and answered once for all the great geographical question of his day—​as to whether its waters rolled to the east or to the west.

THE WELLE.

Here, then, I was upon the very bank of the river, attesting the western flow of the water, about which the contradictions and inconsistencies of the Nubians had kept up my unflagging interest ever since we set out from Khartoum. Whoever has any acquaintance with the indistinctness that ever attaches to the statements of those who would attempt to describe in Arabic the up-current of the down-current of a river will readily comprehend the eagerness with which I yearned to catch the first glance of the waters of which the rippling sound, as they washed their stony banks, came through the bushes to my a strained and listening ear. If the river should flow to the east, why then it solved the problem, hitherto inexplicable, of the fulness of the water in Lake Mwootan; but if, as was far more likely, it should go towards the west, then beyond a doubt it was independent altogether of the Nile system. A moment more and the question was set at rest. Westerly was the direction of the stream, which consequently did not belong to the Nile at all; it was in all likelihood not less than 180 miles distant from the most western coast of Lake Mwootan, and at the numerous rapids which are formed in its upper course it rises almost to the level of the lake, even if it does not attain a still higher altitude.[50]

Very similar as I have said it looked in some respects to the Blue Nile at Khartoum, the Welle had here a breadth of 800 feet, and at this period of the year, when its waters were at their lowest, it had a depth varying from twelve to fifteen feet. The banks, like the “guefs” of the Nile, rose about twenty feet above the level of the stream and appeared to consist almost exclusively of alluvial clay and some layers of blended sand and mica; but as far as I could investigate the exposed face of the river-wall, I could see neither pebbles nor drift, and only occasionally were the scanty remains of shells to be detected.

Here, as well as on the upper part of the main stream, named the Keebaly, which we subsequently crossed, no inundation of the country seems ever to occur, although the land sank with rather a sudden fall for 100 feet down to the wood-encircled bank of the river.

There was nothing remarkable about the rate at which the water flowed: on the northern bank it passed at about fifty-five or sixty feet a minute; so that the volume of water that rolled by would be about 10,000 cubic feet a second, but supposing the rate of the stream to be invariable, this volume would be nearly doubled at the season when the river was at its fullest height. The Welle is formed about twelve miles above this spot by the union of the Gadda and the Keebaly. About three weeks later (on the 13th of April) the Gadda was about 155 feet wide and two to three feet deep, whilst the Keebaly, which is the main stream, was 325 wide and at least twelve feet deep. Of the two streams just above the junction, the rate of flow was fifty-seven feet and seventy-five feet respectively. Fourteen miles above its point of confluence with the Gadda, the Keebaly forms a series of rapids flowing over innumerable crags of gneiss, making a labyrinth of little islands which are known as Kissangah, and which part the stream into many minor channels that after they are re-united reach across in a distance of 1000 to 1200 feet from shore to shore.

I made all the inquiries I possibly could about the condition and fluctuations of the river from the interpreters who were attached to the expedition, and ascertained that the water was actually at this date at its lowest level. The first an indication that I had of any rise or increase in the stream was when I crossed it again a little higher up, towards the east, in the middle of April; and to judge from what was pointed out to me then on the river-banks, I should conjecture that the period of the highest water would be about two months later.

The Welle had all the tokens of being a mountain stream of which the source was at no remote distance, and to a certainty was not in a latitude much to the south of that of the spot where we were crossing. The colour of the flood at this time of the year corresponded very remarkably with the cloudy waters of the Bahr-el-Azrek, and it is probable that when it is at its height it has that look of coffee-and-milk which the river presents at Khartoom. Moreover, there is an additional proof indicating that the river has its origin in some mountain region at no great distance, which is furnished by the fact of so many considerable streams (such as the Keebaly, the Gadda, the Kahpilly, the Nomayo, and the Nalobey) all having their channels uniting in what is comparatively a very limited area. The result of all my varied inquiries seemed to demonstrate most satisfactorily that to the south-west of Munza’s residence the land takes a decided rise; and the existence of certain detached groups of hills, which according to the declarations of the natives are at no very great distance, serves to confirm my belief as to the orographical character of the country. The hills and isolated mountains to which I refer would be, I imagine, none other than the western fringe of the “Blue Mountains,” which Baker observed from the farther side of Lake Mwootan (the Albert Nyanza), and of which (as he saw them on the north-western confines of the lake), he reckoned that the height must be 8000 feet.

From this spot also the position of the abodes of the tribe of the Maogoo was pointed out to me, and it lay between the S.E. and E.S.E. It was to me a very remarkable thing how accurately the natives of Africa, by the indication of the finger, would point to any particular locality; they were also equally skilful in telling the hour of the day by the height of the sun, and I rarely detected an error of much more than half an hour in their representations. In wide open plains like the deserts of Nubia, where the journeys are made for many miles consecutively without the least variation in direction, the precision of their estimate reaches such singular correctness, that if a lance is laid upon the ground the path to which it points will lead, with scarcely a hair’s-breadth deviation, to the destination required, and the road thus indicated will accord perfectly with any direct route that may be marked upon the map. Many years ago Bruce of Kinnaird alluded to a circumstance of this kind in his travels through the Nubian desert; and during my wanderings between the Nile and the Red Sea I had various opportunities of satisfying myself of the truth of what he states.

Taking into calculation the geographical configuration of this part of Africa, and relying not so much upon the representations of previous European travellers as upon the information obtained along the wide tract that extends from Lake Tsad to Kordofan and south of that line, it may be asserted that the Welle belongs to the system of the Shary. That the Welle has any connection with the Gazelle, and so ultimately with the Nile, is contradicted not merely by the general belief, but by the authenticated statements of the inhabitants who dwell upon its borders; and more than this, it is totally inconsistent with the fact that the Welle is a stream vastly greater than the Gazelle in the volume of its waters; for while both alike were at their lowest ebb on the 27th of April, 1863, Petherick has placed it upon record that the Gazelle had but 3042 cubic feet of water to roll on, in comparison to 10,000 feet, which was the volume, every second, of the Welle.

Perhaps I may seem to lay greater stress upon the information which I gained by my inquiries, than a rigorous critic, who knows what an ambiguous country I was traversing, may be inclined to think is fair. But let me invite his attention to the following statement. Although the entire eastern portion of the Niam-niam country from Mofio to Kanna has been repeatedly visited by companies from Khartoom, and I have been repeatedly brought into contact with those who have taken part in the expeditions, I have never come across but one single individual who has represented that there is connection anywhere between the Welle and the Gazelle; and in addition to this, the Monbuttoo and the Niam-niam, with an agreement that is undeviating, all represent that the Welle holds on its course to the N.E. as far as they could follow it for days and days together, till it widens so vastly that the trees on its banks are not visible, and that at last there is nothing but water and sky. This representation would imply that the river issues in some inland lake. They have, moreover, their tales to tell of the inhabitants of the country on the lower part of the river, as to how they dress in white, and like the Nubians kneel upon the ground and say their prayers. Clearly, therefore, these residents are Mohammedans, and the direction and the distance of their abode would seem to corroborate an impression that they must be the inhabitants of some southern parts of Baghirmy.

As I have spoken of the Welle in comparison with the Gazelle, I may now be permitted to bring it into contrast with the Shary, so far at least as the lower course of this river has been explored. According to the testimony of Major Denham, who made his observations on the 24th of June, 1824, the width of the Shary at its mouth was about half a mile, while its stream had a velocity of something under three miles an hour. This would indicate a stream three times as strong as that of the Welle, and if the average depth of the waters as they flow into Lake Tsad be reckoned at ten feet it would give a volume of 85,000 cubic feet a second, whereas at the very highest reckoning the volume of the Welle is not above 20,000 cubic feet.

On the other hand the eastern main branch of the Shary at Mele, where it was measured by Barth on the 18th of March, 1852, had a breadth of 1800 feet, and in mid-channel it had a depth of fifteen feet, while it was specially recorded as rolling on with a velocity of some three miles an hour, which, however, in a way that we should not have expected, Barth says did not make him reckon the stream as particularly strong.

That the Shary, so early as the month of March, should show an increase in the mass of its waters, would appear to indicate that according to theory it must be augmented by some other rivers coming from more southern latitudes than the Welle. It is a positive fact that there are no other streams of the least account that could possibly flow into it from the arid steppes of Darfoor and Wadai on the north; the land there has no springs, and consumes for itself whatever it receives from the clouds above. If then the Welle flows neither into the Gazelle nor yet into the Shary, it might perhaps be asked whether it is not a tributary to the ample waters of the Benue, which Barth found at Yola, on the 18th of July, 1851, to be 1200 feet in width, having an average depth of 11 feet, and a periodic change of 50 feet between the highest and lowest level of its stream; but then there would still remain the further question as to what, in that case, must be the source of the Shary, and whence it comes; and this is a question that decides for itself the full value of the counter-evidence.

It is a matter of especial interest to recollect that Barth would appear already to have announced the existence of the Welle under the name of the river of Kubanda. The people that he had about him were natives of Darfoor, who had been accustomed to carry on their expeditions for plunder ever since the year 1834. In fact he assigns the position of the river of Kubanda to the latitude of 3° N., and affixes a note to his account of it stating that “a tree, called the Kumba, is said to grow upon its banks.” Now, Kumba is the Niam-niam for the abundant Malaghetta pepper (Xylopia æthiopica), which has communicated its name to the Pepper Coast, and in the middle ages was a spice much valued and known as Habb-el-Selim (Selim’s grains), and had probably been brought into the market by the people of Morocco, long before black pepper was known at all. I satisfied myself that at present this pepper is known to the Foorians as a product of the distant south.

MONBUTTOO CANOES.

The transport of the caravan across the great river was by no means an easy matter; by the aid, however, of the ferrymen whom Munza had provided, it was accomplished so vigorously that in the course of three hours our last man had been carried over. The passage was effected by large canoes which were hewn out of a single trunk of a tree, and which, alike in shape and solidity, were superior to what we had hitherto seen. Some of them were not less than thirty feet long and four feet broad, and sufficiently spacious to convey both horses and bullocks. So ample are their dimensions that there is no risk of their being upset, nor did they lurch in the least degree as we got into them. They were made with both ends running horizontally out into a beak, and the border lines were ornamented with carved figures. As the current was not very strong, it was found sufficient to have two boatmen, who squatted down at each extremity of the canoe; their paddles were about five feet long, and tapered down towards the end in the shape of a narrow shovel, and to say the truth, the boatmen used them very much in shovel-fashion.

I had seen the teak canoes on the Red Sea which are called “Hoory” in Arabic, and are of a build imported from India, and many of the canoes which are in use at Suakim and Djidda, but none of these were comparable, either with respect to size or elegance, with the canoes of the Monbuttoo. It is remarkable that on the lower course of the Shary there are no ferry-boats in use except such as are made out of a number of planks fitted and fastened together; the conclusion from this would appear to be obvious: either that there are no fine trees to be felled in that country, similar to those on the borders of the Welle, or that between the source and mouth of the Shary there are impediments to navigation which are insuperable. In the distance of about 1000 miles to Lake Tsad from the point of our passage, the stream would have fallen more than 1450 feet.

Our encampment was formed about half-a-league to the south of the river; it was encircled by the dwellings of the Monbuttoo, who had spread themselves over the declivity of a steep woody ravine. The groves in this locality yielded me every day fresh trophies in my raids upon the vegetable domains of Nature, whilst at nightfall the natives came trooping in and enlisted my curious interest. Ambassadors deputed by King Munza came to bring me his official recognition, and were charged at the same time to render to him what information they could about the doings and intentions of the wonderful stranger. As the messengers sent by the king were sufficiently versed in the Zandey dialect to hold conversation in it, I was enabled to make them understand the object of my visit to their country, and to all appearances they were thoroughly satisfied by my explanation.

We were still at a little distance from the point which we had determined must be the limit of our progress for this year; we had, however, but one day’s rest to make, and then we should proceed to make our entry into Munza’s quarters. A fresh world of novelty seemed to be awaiting us in this remote region, the very kernel of the continent, equally distant from the Indian Ocean and from the Atlantic. Everything was new. The bright and clear complexion of the natives, their singular garb, their artistic furniture, the convenience of their orderly houses, and finally, the savage etiquette of the pompous court, all struck me with fresh surprise and ever renewed the feeling of astonishment. There was, moreover, an exuberance of strange and unexpected vegetation; whilst plantations, sugar-canes, and oil-palms were everywhere to be seen in plentiful luxuriance. Truly, I now found myself in the heart of Africa, realising to the letter the fascinating dreams of my early youth.

CHARMS OF THE MONBUTTOO LAND.

Nothing could be more charming than that last day’s march which brought us to the limit of our wanderings. The twelve miles which led to Munza’s palace were miles enriched by such beauty as might be worthy of Paradise. They left an impression upon my memory which can never fade. The plantain-groves harmonised so perfectly with the clustering oil-palms that nothing could surpass the perfection of the scene; whilst the ferns that adorned the countless stems in the background of the landscape enhanced the charms of the tropical groves. A fresh and invigorating atmosphere contributed to the enjoyment of it all, refreshing water and grateful shade being never far away. In front of the native dwellings towered the splendid figs, of which the spreading crowns defied the passage of the burning sun. Anon, we passed amidst jungles of Raphia, alongside brooks crammed full of reeds, or through galleries where the Pandanus thrived, the road taking us uphill and downhill in alternate undulation. No less than twelve of these brooklets did we pass upon our way, some lying in depressions of one hundred feet, and some sunk as much as two hundred feet below the summits of their bounding walls of verdant vegetation, and there were two upheaved and rounded hills of gneiss, rising to an altitude of some 300 feet, along the flanks of which we wound our path. On either hand there was an almost unbroken series of the idyllic homes of the people, who hurried to their gates, and offered us the choicest products of their happy clime.

Beside the streamlet which was last but one of all we passed, we made our final halt in the shadow of a large assembly-ground that we might take our repast of plantains and baked manioc. The crowds of bearers made their camp around the stem of a colossal Cordia abyssinica which stood upon the open space in front of the abode of the local chief, and reminded me of the Abyssinian villages, where this tree is specially cultivated. Von Beuermann has mentioned that he observed this tree in Kanem rendering the same service as the lindens of the German villages, and forming a cool and shady resort to which the residents might betake themselves for recreation. These trees, with their goodly coronets of spreading foliage, are the survivors from generations that are gone, and form a comely ornament in well-nigh all the villages of the Monbuttoo.

And then, at last, conspicuous amidst the massy depths of green, we espied the palace of the king. We had reached a broad valley, circled by plantations, and shadowed by some gigantic trees which had survived the decay of the ancient wilderness; through the lowest part meandered a transparent brook. We did not descend into the hollow, but halting on the hither side we chose a station clear of trees, and proceeded without delay to fix our camp. We enjoyed a view in front of a sloping area, void of grass, enlivened with an endless multiplicity of huts, of which the roofs of some were like ordinary sheds, and those of others of a conical form. And there, surmounting all, with extensive courts broad and imposing, unlike anything we had seen since we left the edifices of Cairo, upreared itself the spacious pile of King Munza’s dwelling.

ARRIVAL AT KING MUNZA’S PALACE.

The order for the halt was no sooner given than the bearers set about their wonted work, and labouring with their knives and hatchets soon procured from the jungles by the brook the supply of material sufficient for our architectural needs. Rapidly as ever our encampment was reared: hardly an hour elapsed before our place of sojourn was in order, with a gorgeous landscape opening in its front, and this time in view of the royal abode of an African monarch. My own tent, which began to exhibit only too plainly the tokens of being somewhat weather-beaten by repeated exposure, was located in the very midst of the lines of our grass-huts: not now was it erected, as often it had been, upon the bare rock of a desolate wilderness, but in the centre of a scene of surpassing beauty: for the first time I had it decorated with my flag, which waved proudly above it in honour of our arrival at the court of so distinguished and powerful a prince.

The natives lost no time in crowding in and endeavouring to obtain an interview. But it suited my inclination to withdraw myself for a time. I remained in the retirement of my tent simply because I was weary of these interviews, which always necessitated my permitting either my head to be handled, in order to convince them that the long straight hair was really my own, or my bosom (like Wallenstein’s when he fronted his murderers) to be bared that they might admire its whiteness. I was thus induced to remain under shelter, and meanwhile the Monbuttoo magnates waited patiently or impatiently without; they had brought their benches, which they placed close to my quarters, but I continued obstinate in my determination to be undisturbed, resolved to reserve all my strength and energy for the following day, when I should have to exhibit the marvel of my existence before King Munza himself.

FOOTNOTES:

[47] ‘Troglodytes Schweinfurthii Gigl. in Studii Craniologici sui Cimpanze.’ Genova, 1872.

[48] Reichert’s and Du Bois Raymond’s ‘Archiv.’ Berlin, 1872.

[49] The A-Madi must not be confounded with the Madi of the Mittoo, nor with the Madi south of Gondokoro. In the native dialect “a” is only a plural form: e.g., “ango” means a dog; “a-ango,” dogs.

[50] The measurements are given in the sketch-map in Vol. II.

END OF VOL. I.

LONDON:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.