Produced by Douglas Ethington
A PARISIAN SULTANA
A TRANSLATION OF
ADOLPHE BELOT'S
"La Sultane parisienne"
BY
H. MAINWARING DUNSTAN.
BOOK II. IN THE HEART OF AFRICA.
CHAPTER I.
In a few moments the little European flotilla was rounding the Ras-el-Khartoum, the junction of the White and Blue Niles, and very soon it passed the three large mimosas, called usually the "tree," the rendezvous for all boats leaving for the voyage up the White Nile or its affluents. The banks of the river here and for some miles farther on present a most monotonous appearance—low, flat banks as far as the eye can see, often flooded and resembling a sea rather than a river, with here and there a clump of acacias. In the distance can be discerned the desert with its sandy undulations. From the bed of the river snags and dead stumps of trees raise their withered heads, whilst aquatic plants glide slowly down the stream and look like floating islets of verdure. Clouds of mosquitoes swarm on this moving vegetation and appear so thoroughly satisfied with their habitation that they forget to attack the European traveller.
The captain of the steamer which towed the flotilla was a young Egyptian officer, educated in Paris, a very gentlemanly and clever man. At starting he had begged Madame de Guéran and her companions to come on board his ship. "In a few days," he said, "you will leave me, for you will go up the Gazelle River whilst I shall have to proceed alone on my journey up the White Nile as far as Gondokoro. Give me, then, as long as you can, the pleasure of your society."
The whole party acceded to this invitation, and joined the "Khedive," that being the name of the steamer. Most of their time was passed on the poop, and the conversation frequently turned on the slave-trade, which the young officer had for two years, under the command of Sir Samuel Baker, endeavoured to put down.
"Alas!" he said, "our efforts have been well nigh futile. For one cargo of slaves released by us ten have escaped, and General Baker was worn out, during his four years' of command, in the struggle against the natives of the country, whom the slave-merchants, Aboo-Saoud, the most powerful of all amongst them, incited to oppose him."
One evening, as the Europeans and their host were chatting in some such fashion as we have described, an acrid, fetid stench, more like the smell of a charnel-house or a wild beasts' den than, anything else, was wafted by the wind towards the "Khedive," and unexpectedly saluted the nostrils of her passengers.