The Island of Aba does not appear to be entirely inundated, and therefore, it is covered towards the interior with high grown wood. It is said, that there are several lions here; I think I saw one at a distance, but I did not pursue him. We saw large flocks of guinea-fowls, called here Gedàt el Pharaùn (Pharaoh’s fowls), and which provided us for some days with roast dainties. “Pharaùn” is a word of abuse, but it must have been taken rather from the Koràn than from tradition. I saw many foot-prints of Hippopotami in the muddy roads, which extend from the East westerly to the river, and were already dried up. The earth by that means was exceedingly fertile. Doghen, a kind of corn, commonly used in Kordofan,—bamie, a vegetable with pods, to be met with from hence up to Greece;—and Malochië, a species of spinnage, grow wild here. The numerous birds were very shy, which we attribute to our white dress and red caps.
1st December.—Half an hour before sun rise, we left the Island of Aba, and sailed E.S.E., and had a course of 2¼ miles; in the lapse of an hour this island was on our left. At half past eight o’clock, we had on our right an island, and on the left the shore was bare,—a Steppe, with a few trees and copsewood. The ground beyond and through the trees glimmered, equally bare and waste, of a yellow colour. This eternal shifting of the islands, and winding of the vessel, frequently perverts the look and the prospect of the whole scenery. The Lotus,—the grass extending itself over the water,—and the high reed grass, filled the space between the trees. At nine o’clock S.S.W., we pass the Machada Abu Seïd, before which we have a course of 4½ miles, and immediately afterwards only 3 miles. At this place, where the stream, owing to the rocks crossing from E. to W. forms an inconsiderable current, the water is only 1½ to 2 fathoms deep, and when low, reaches only up to the knee,—a circumstance which must be taken into account for our return voyage. Machada Abu Seïd, is equivalent to “Ford of Abu Seïd,” who, being the patron of navigators, is invoked on the most trivial occasions, like Abd el Kader, by the Bedouins of the desert. It is pretended that this same Abu Seïd crossed the water with his large army, and subdued the people of this place; many stories are also told of him, how he has assisted navigators in their need.
Above this ford or reef, on which entire masses of the Etheria tubifera (Caill) have settled, we passed over the Machada el Ans, which means “Goat’s Ford;” because, in the dry season of the year, even goats can walk through here, when they are thrown by the herdsmen into the water, from one rock to the other.
The lead gives four and a half fathoms between these two Machadas, the log four miles and a half, and the river has one mile in rapidity. Small grassy island tracts extend to the left side of the Nile; and many more islands might, in this manner, continually rise through the gradual alluvial deposits. The trees are generally of the dwarf species; and there are only solitary higher ones, which overtop the others, and have withstood the winds, by reason of the soil being moistened continually by water. A number of scattered water-plants form floating islands of large and small dimensions, frequently presenting quite a surprizing appearance. At noon we came so close to such an island, which had been held together by a kind of water couch-grass, and was joined on to the shore, that we tore off one entire portion of it, and set it moving like a little aquatic world of the most diversified description of plants. The base of this floating vegetable world was formed by the pale green velvet-plant everywhere met with, and which spreads itself like the auricula, has fibrous roots, and is intermixed with green reeds, but appears to have no flowers. The stalk-like moss, spreading under the water, with slender white suckers, like polypi, on the long streaks beneath, was another principal ingredient in the formation of this island. Then comes a kind of convolvulus, with lilac-coloured flowers, with its seeds, like those of the convolvulus, in capsule-like knobs, and leaves like those of buttercups.
The character of the whole of this island world acquires such a blooming appearance here, that one believes oneself transported to a gigantic park situated under water. Entire tracts are covered with the blooming lotus. The trees, shrubs, and creepers, with their manifold flowers, enjoy a freedom unknown in Europe, where every plant is restricted to its fixed season. The life, buds, and bursting into development of the different plants appear to be arbitrary, for rain, water, and the height, depth, and quality of the soil have such effect, that the very same species often display entirely different stages of progression. From the tall dark mimosas, and other trees, down to the waving reeds, and the spikes of the high grass shooting out of the water, a vegetable life spreads with a freshness and fulness bordering on the marvellous. The splendid leaf-like webs of lianias form hills of flowers with garlands, and wave and shine afar in various colours, like magnificent hanging tapestry.
MOUNT N’JEMATI, APRIL 13, 1841.
It is a strangely beautiful sight to see these exuberant plants, sparkling in various colours, keeping down the more sturdy ones. However, on our voyage back, the scene had so altered, that it was with difficulty we could persuade ourselves that here it was so wonderfully beautiful before. Together with the various species of convolvulus, the blooming ambak-tree contributed to enhance the variety of flowers. The Arabs call it ambak, although they are only acquainted with its dry light wood, which floats down to them. The tree grows only in the river itself, or in a swamp, and when the water recedes, dies away to the root. The rapidity of its growth surpasses that of the rising of the Nile, and shoots up from ten to fifteen feet above its highest water-mark. It rises in a conical form out of the water, but decreases again towards the root, and is, in the middle, as thick as a strong man’s arm. The wood is throughout of a spongy nature, and can be called only fibrous pith: it is overlaid with a dark green rind, which is also furnished with a rough brownish hue and small imperceptible arcuated thorns. The branches fix themselves on luxuriant soil, like the acacias with us, and towards the ends are quite green and rough; the leaves are twinned like those of the acacia; the foliage is full of sap and green like reeds. The yellow bean-flower grows single, but in great profusion; it is an inch and a half long and broad, and has ten stamina round the pistil.
The top of a mountain, of which, at the moment, I could learn no other name than that of Geb’l Dinka, rose, about nine o’clock, to the S.S.W. This was a welcome sight to me, as it seemed to promise, from the distance, something more magnificent than the hills, or would-be mountains, that had hitherto appeared in the horizon. We make four miles and a half, and the rapidity of the stream still remains one mile, although the water before this Machada seems to have no fall, and only to be set in motion by the pressure from above. At two o’clock we had on the left, towards the east, Geb’l Dinka, so termed by navigators, but more correctly called Geb’l N’jemati, which is said to denote a group of mountain tops. Two rocky ridges especially project, and seem to belong to the granite formation.
The thermometer was, at sunrise, 18°, at noon, 26°, and from three to five o’clock 28°, Reaumur. The flower island continues on the right and left, and we have four miles course. The grass and reed tract of islands appears on the left shore like pasture-ground, closed by shady trees in the distant background. At six o’clock, sunrise, we sailed past the mountain of the Dinkas, which I was glad I had delineated before, for it presented here nothing picturesque. The people of the Dinkas (sing. Dinkauï) were not to be seen, because they had betaken themselves to the interior, to sow their fields with durra and dòghen. These fields are said to lie in the Chaba; and it seems probable to me that this forest is situated in a basin, as in Taka, wherein the rain and effusion of mountain-streams must be long retained, because otherwise the land would be too dry for sowing; or the inundation of the Nile seizes those partially, on old beds of the river, which have been dammed up on the lower side, and would therefore be dried up if there were no effusion of water.