Lighten Love’s load, and my undoing!
Bring Peace to me, Peace to my Dear,
Shelter my Sweet, and speed my wooing!
But this lover’s plaint also dies away, and the silence of the night is unbroken save by the murmurings of the wavelets on the sacred river.
NUBIA AND THE NILE RAPIDS.[B]
[B] In order to understand and appreciate this chapter the reader should bear in mind that the Nile is in flood from June to about the end of September, being at its highest in the latter month, and at its lowest in April. At low Nile the rapids present a very different appearance from what they do at high Nile.
Egypt and Nubia, though immediately adjacent, and closely connected by a river common to both, are essentially different countries. Through Egypt the sacred Nile flows with leisurely dignity, through Nubia it rushes in furious haste; over Egypt it distributes its blessings widely, in Nubia it is hemmed in by high rocky banks; in Egypt it triumphs over the desert, in Nubia the desert is supreme; Egypt is a garden which the river has formed after thousands of years of ceaseless labour, Nubia is a desert which it cannot conquer. Of course this desert has its oases like any other, but they are few and scarcely worth considering in comparison with the lands on both sides of the stream which remain in unchangeable sterility and desolation. Throughout the greater part of the long winding valley which forms what we call Nubia, dark, gleaming masses of rock rise from the bed of the river or from its immediate vicinity, and over wide tracts prevent the growth of almost all vegetation. They have for their sole adornment the waves of golden yellow sand which are blown from the deserts on east and west, and gradually slide down the rocks into the river. The sun beats from the deep-blue and rarely cloudy sky; for many years together not a single shower refreshes the thirsty ground. In the deeply cut gorges the life-giving waves of the fertilizing stream contend in vain with the unimpressionable rocks, on which they hurl themselves roaring and foaming, blustering and thundering, as if enraged that their generosity is met with ingratitude and their beneficence with disdain. The field on which this battle is waged is the region of the rapids.
Very few travellers who visit the lower valley of the Nile ever reach the rapids of its middle course. A few go beyond the so-called first cataract, scarcely one in a hundred passes the second. Wady Halfa, a village immediately below the second group of rapids, is the usual goal of travellers; only purposes of exploration, the passion for the chase, or some commercial enterprise, leads any one further south. For it is at Wady Haifa that the difficulties of a journey into the interior really begin, and it is therefore not surprising that the great majority turn the prow of the boat homewards at that village of palms. But no one who is young and vigorous, energetic, and not too luxuriously inclined, will ever regret if he pushes farther south. In the Nile valley, which is by no means rich in picturesqueness, the region of the rapids is quite unique. Grandeur and beauty, sombreness and gaiety, desolation and overflowing life mark the scenes that here follow one another in quick succession; but they are all desert pictures which this landscape presents, and one must forget conventional standards in order to appreciate them as they deserve. The man who is unable to appreciate the desert, to revel in its wealth of colour, to endure its scorching heat, and to find refreshment in its solemn night, would do well to avoid the desert of the Nile. But he who travels through the country of the rapids with open eye and receptive heart, who in his frail boat engages, wherever possible, in the struggle with the furiously foaming waves, will have his whole life enriched with precious memories. For never will the impressive spectacle that his eye has looked on fade from his mental vision, never will the sublime melody the stream has sung in his ear cease to echo in his soul. Such, at least, is my experience, and I have journeyed through the rocky valley of Nubia on land and on water, up the river and down, contending with the waves, ay, and with hunger and want, and looking down on the rapids from the tops of high cliffs as well as from the camel’s back.
It is customary to speak of three cataracts. Each consists of a series of rapids, which, for about a mile, make navigation in the highest degree difficult and dangerous. At the first cataract there is properly but one rapid; taking the second and third together there are about thirty which the Nubian boatmen call by special names. There are no waterfalls which make navigation of any kind impossible, not at least on the regular route where, in addition to passing vessels, there ply boats specially built and equipped for the rapids.[76]
When the traveller in his progress up the sacred river has traversed the north-easterly tract where the river is hemmed in between the Rocks of the Chain (Jebel Silsileh), the scenery changes abruptly. Behind him lies Egypt, in other words the low-lying valley, broadening seawards into a boundless plain; before him rises the rocky threshold of Nubia. The contrast is most striking. Monotony is replaced by diversity. It is indeed true that even the scenery of Egypt presents many a picture which is stimulating to the eye and refreshing to the soul; it is true that its beauty is enhanced, especially in the morning and evening hours, by the wondrous brilliance of southern light; but taken as a whole it seems monotonous, for everywhere the prospect is alike, whether the eye rests on rocks of sandstone and limestone by the margin of the valley, or takes a wider survey over the river and the fields. One and the same picture, with little variety, is repeated a hundred times: hills and fruitful plains, river-banks and islands, thickets of mimosa, groves of palms and sycamores, towns and villages, everywhere bear essentially the same stamp. But at the rock-masses of the first cataract, which form the last barrier overcome by the stream as it presses towards the sea, Egypt really ends and Nubia begins. No longer does the boat glide smoothly on a surface majestically calm; it has to fight its way among low masses of rock, and among rocky cones that rear themselves above the waves.