After passing the island of Tshebeshi, the river, which still retains its great breadth, is bordered by a swampy growth of reeds. It is filled with numerous low islands, covered with trees, mostly dead, and with waste, white branches which have drifted down during the inundation. In the forests along the shore many trees had also been killed by the high water of the previous summer. There are no habitations on this part of the river, but all is wild, and lonely, and magnificent. I had seen no sail since leaving Khartoum, and as the sun that evening threw his last red rays on the mighty flood, I felt for the first time that I was alone, far in the savage heart of Africa. We dashed along at a most exciting rate of speed, brushing the reeds of the low islands, or dipping into the gloom of the shadows thrown by the unpruned forests. The innumerable swarms of wild birds filled the air with their noise, as they flew to their coverts, or ranged themselves in compact files on the sand. Above all their din, I heard at intervals, from the unseen thickets inland, the prolonged snarling roar of some wild beast. It was too deep-toned and powerful for a leopard, and we all decided that it was a lion. As I was watching the snowy cranes and silvery herons that alighted on the boughs within pistol-shot, my men pointed out a huge hippopotamus, standing in the reeds, but a short distance from the vessel. He was between five and six feet high, but his head, body and legs were of enormous bulk. He looked at us, opened his great jaws, gave his swine-like head a toss in the air, and plunged hastily into the water. At the same instant an immense crocodile (perhaps twenty feet in length) left his basking-place on the sand and took refuge in the river. Soon afterwards two hippopotami rose in the centre of the stream, and, after snorting the water from their nostrils, entertained us with a peculiar grunting sound, like the lowest rumbling note of a double-bass. The concert was continued by others, and resumed from time to time through the night. This was Central Africa as I had dreamed it—a grand though savage picture, full of life and heat, and with a barbaric splendor even in the forms of Nature.
As the new moon and the evening star went down together behind the mimosa forests on the western bank, we reached the island of Hassaniyeh, having sailed upward of one hundred and forty miles since the evening before. I had every prospect of reaching my destination, the island of Aba, in the archipelago of the Shillooks, before noon the next day, or in two days from Khartoum—a distance of more than two hundred and fifty miles! Better sailing than this was never made on the Nile. Four more days of such wind would have taken me to the Bahr el-Ghazàl, in lat. 9°—the land of lions, elephants, and giraffes, where the Nile becomes a sea of grass. It became more difficult for me to return, the further I advanced. At nine o’clock we passed the island of Hassaniyeh, and saw the fires of the Shillook negroes burning brightly on the western bank. The wind blew more briskly than ever, and I dashed onward in the starlight with the painful knowledge that I was fast approaching the point beyond which I dared not go.
CHAPTER XXVI.
ADVENTURES AMONG THE SHILLOOK NEGROES.
Morning—Magnificence of the Island Scenery—Birds and Hippopotami—Flight of the Natives—The Island of Aba—Signs of Population—A Band of Warriors—The Shekh and the Sultan—A Treaty of Peace—The Robe of Honor—Suspicions—We walk to the Village—Appearance of the Shillooks—The Village—The Sultan gives Audience—Women and Children—Ornaments of the Natives—My Watch—A Jar of Honey—Suspicion and Alarm—The Shillook and the Sultan’s Black Wife—Character of the Shillooks—The Land of the Lotus—Population of the Shillook Kingdom—The Turning Point—A View from the Mast-Head.
We sailed nearly all night with a steady north-wind, which towards morning became so strong that the men were obliged to take in sail and let us scud under bare poles. When I rose, in the gray of early dawn, they were about hoisting the little stern-sheet, which alone sufficed to carry us along at the rate of four miles an hour. We had passed the frontier of Egyptian Soudân soon after sunset, and were then deep in the negro kingdom of the Shillooks. The scenery had changed considerably since the evening. The forests were taller and more dense, and the river more thickly studded with islands, the soil of which was entirely concealed by the luxuriant girdle of shrubs and water-plants, in which they lay imbedded. The ambak, a species of aquatic shrub, with leaves resembling the sensitive plant and winged, bean-like blossoms of a rich yellow hue, grew on the edge of the shore, with its roots in the water and its long arms floating on the surface. It formed impenetrable ramparts around the islands and shores, except where the hippopotamus and crocodile had trodden paths into the forests, or the lion and leopard had come down to the river’s margin to drink. Behind this floating hem of foliage and blossoms appeared other and larger shrubs, completely matted together with climbing vines, which covered them like a mantle and hung from their branches dangling streamers of white and purple and yellow blossoms. They even stretched to the boughs of the large mimosa, or sont trees, which grew in the centre of the islands, thus binding all together in rounded masses. Some of the smaller islands resembled floating hills of vegetation, and their slopes and summits of impervious foliage, rolling in the wind, appeared to keep time with the rocking of the waves that upheld them. The profusion of vegetable life reminded me of the Chagres River. If not so rich and gorgeous, it was on a far grander scale. The river had still a breadth of a mile and a half, where his current was free, but where island crowded on island in a vast archipelago of leafy shores, he took a much wider sweep. The waves danced and glistened in the cool northern wind, as we glided around his majestic curves, and I stood on deck watching the wonderful panorama unfold on either side, with a feeling of exultation to which I gave free vent. In no other river have I seen landscapes of larger or more imposing character.
All the rich animal world of this region was awake and stirring before the sun. The wild fowls left their roosts; the zikzaks flew twittering over the waves, calling up their mates, the sleepy crocodiles; the herons stretched their wings against the wind; the monkeys leaped and chattered in the woods, and at last whole herds of hippopotami, sporting near the shore, came up spouting water from their nostrils, in a manner precisely similar to the grampus. I counted six together, soon after sunrise, near the end of an island. They floundered about in the shallows popping up their heads every few minutes to look at us, and at last walked out through the reeds and stood upon the shore. Soon afterwards five more appeared on the other side of the river, and thenceforth we saw them almost constantly, and sometimes within fifty yards. I noticed one which must have been four feet in breadth across the ears, and with a head nearly five feet long. He opened his mouth wide enough to show two round, blunt tusks, or rather grinders, one on each side. They exhibited a great deal of curiosity, and frequently turned about after we had passed, and followed for some time in our wake.
Soon after sunrise the raïs observed some Shillooks in the distance, who were sinking their canoes in the river, after which they hastily retreated into the woods. We ran along beside the embowering shores, till we reached the place. The canoes were carefully concealed and some pieces of drift wood thrown over the spot, as if left there by the river. The raïs climbed to the mast-head and called to the people, assuring them that there was no danger, but, though we peered sharply into the thickets, we could find no signs of any human being. The river here turned to the south, disclosing other and richer groups of islands, stretching beyond one another far into the distance. Directly on our left was the northern point of the island of Aba, our destination. As the island is six or eight miles in length, I determined to make the most of my bargain, and so told the raïs that he must take me to its further end, and to the villages of the Shillooks, whom I had come to see. Abou-Hammed was small in body, but had a stout heart. The Consul and fat Abou-Balta had given him special instructions to keep me out of danger, yet he could not refuse my demands. We sailed two or three miles along the shore of Aba, looking into the depths of its ambak forests for traces of the Shillooks, who, according to the raïs, had a village on the island. On our right extended a chain of smaller islands—bowery masses of leaves and blossoms—and beyond them the wild forests of the western bank. Glorious above description was that world of waves and foliage—of wood, water and sky.
At last, on rounding one of the coves of Aba, we came upon a flock of sheep, feeding along the shore. A light thread of smoke arose from among some dead, fallen trees, a few paces in the forest, but no person was to be seen. The boat was run to the shore, and we landed and examined the spot. The natives had evidently just left, for the brands were burning, and we saw the prints of their long feet in the ashes. The raïs and sailors walked on tiptoe through the woods, looking for the hidden inhabitants. The mimosas, which here grow to the height of fifty feet, met above our heads and made a roof, against the sun. Some large gray apes, startled by our visit, leaped with wonderful dexterity from tree to tree. I found several abandoned fire-places during my walk, and near the shore saw many footprints in the soft soil. The forest was quite clear of underwood, but the ground was cumbered with the trunks of dead trees. There were but few flowering plants, and I was too much interested in the search for the Shillooks to examine them.
The raïs finally descried the huts of the village at a distance, near the extremity of the island. We returned to the vessel, and were about putting off in order to proceed thither, when a large body of men, armed with spears, appeared in the forest, coming towards us at a quick pace. The raïs, who had already had some intercourse with these people and knew something of their habits, advanced alone to meet them. I could see, through the trees, that a consultation was held, and shortly, though with some signs of doubt and hesitation, about a dozen of the savages advanced to within a short distance of the vessel, while the others sat down on the ground, still holding the spears in their hands. The raïs now returned to the water’s edge, and said that the Shillooks had come with the intention of fighting, but he had informed them that this was a visit from the Sultan’s son, who came to see them as a friend, and would then return to his father’s country. Thereupon they consented to speak with me, and I might venture to go on shore. I landed again, with Achmet, and walked up with the raïs to the spot where the men were seated. The shekh of the island, a tall, handsome man, rose to greet me, by touching the palm of his right hand to mine and then raising it to his forehead. I made a like salutation, after which he sat down. The vizier (as he called himself), an old man excessively black in complexion, then advanced, and the other warriors in succession, till all had saluted me. The conversation was carried on in the Arabic jargon of Soudân, which the shekh and some of his men spoke tolerably well, so that I could understand the most of what was said. “Why don’t you bring the Sultan’s carpet that he may rest?” said the shekh to one of my sailors. The carpet and pillows were immediately brought, and I stretched myself out in front of the shekh and vizier, who sat upon a fallen tree, while the others squatted upon the ground. The shekh at first took no part in the conversation, but sat looking at me steadily, from under his heavy eyebrows. Our negotiations were conducted in genuine diplomatic style. Whenever His Majesty of the Shillooks had any thing to say, he mentioned it to his vizier, who addressed Achmet, my vizier, who communicated it to me, the Sultan. The spectators observed the most profound silence, and nothing could surpass the gravity and solemnity of the scene.