At some distance from us I was shewn tops of trees, which were scarcely perceptible, marking the island of the late great Sheikh, or Mek Abdurachman (Abd el Rahman), who was a chief of the Shilluks (sing. Shilkaui), and a sworn enemy to the Arabian intruders. On the former expedition, Suliman Kashef, who had made the acquaintance of this dreaded chief, and had lost many men by his predatory expeditions, wanted to convince himself whether he was really dead; and, in the savageness of his heart, ordered the body to be dug up, in order that he might convince himself of the fact. They were all not a little rejoiced at finding the truth confirmed.
Darkness prevented us from distinguishing the complication of islands which were still continuing. We lay to about eleven o’clock at Ambak, an island towards the left shore; and the sails being clewed, we make only two miles and a half in the hour, in order to wait for the Sandal, which was behind-hand. Immediately close to or down by these trees, we had four fathoms in depth; and yet they stood some fifteen feet above the water, which extraordinary height they are said to attain in one year, for they fall down and wither away when the water recedes.
Towards evening, a hippopotamus bellowed from the reeds quite close to us. An old sailor, partaking of the superstition which I have already mentioned, bid him immediately “Salam aleikum” (peace be with thee), but he answered not a word; whereupon a peculiar silence reigned among the crew, who believe in a possible voluntary or involuntary transformation into beasts by sorcery.
2nd December.—We set sail before sunrise, towards S.S.W. The rocks of N’jemati lie to the N.N.E. of us, and on the left a mountain elevates itself to the S.S.E. at about six hours’ distance. We soon made three miles and a quarter, and from eight o’clock four and a quarter, and the breadth of the river was generally estimated at two miles. Near the reed or marshy islands, a kind of meadow cat’s-tail grass is prevalent, having a broad flat blade of bright green, in the middle of which runs a white streak lengthways. This grass has thick connecting tubes, from which the fibrous roots depend. The stalk, which is the thickness of a thumb, rises, with knots, to the height of four to five feet, and is surrounded with numerous brown leaves, completely inclosing it. It has ears like wheat, growing in a bunch to the number of five or six, containing grain, which is eaten by the people. It might be called the low-reed, from which the high-reed is distinguished by rising to a height of ten to twelve feet, and having straight knotty stalks, the thickness of a finger, narrow leaves, and on the top a cluster of leaves, from which large bulrush ears project, the seeds of which are scarcely perceptible. Close to this grows the luxuriant water couch-grass, with drooping blades the breadth of a finger, having a delicate blue hue; and a dark green aquatic grass, with narrow horizontal blades, from which branches a rush-like crown of seeds.
Feïzulla Capitan has, at last, entirely exhausted, not only his own, but also my stock of spirituous liquors, which he used to partake of in his debauch, as if they had been his own property. His days of atonement have therefore commenced; he takes the Koràn with a long face, and puts on the airs of a great Faki, on account of which Suliman Kashef calls him Hodshà. The great Paradise-Stormer, from Kurdistan, listens to him with profound devotion, and corrects him very zealously, for he really seems to know the whole Koran by heart.
After eight o’clock, a large reed island appeared on our left. Floating couch-grass islands, covered with the pale green aquatic plants so frequently seen, meet us, and often draw a ship round with them. The current of the water may separate these islands from the shore, and disconnect them from the lake; or storms, and the mighty inhabitants of the stream, when they are forcing roads with their corporeal masses, may cut them off and set them in motion. At ten o’clock, for the first time, on the right shore, Sunt appears on an island with all kinds of shrubs and grasses, and the aquatic acacia Ambak. The country on the banks of the Nile consist of, at the same time, a broad pasture-land, with young high grass, whilst the breadth of the river here is an hour. Towards the South an endless channel disclosed itself, in which the water vanished by degrees with the horizon,—a sight which we had not yet seen on the white stream, and which was very much desired to define the latitude and longitude. On the left, also, approached an island with the before-named characteristics. I conclude, however, from the height of some Sunt-trees, that it had firmer ground towards the interior, although its beautiful flowering margin displays, as it were, floating hills of flowers over the copsewood, with their tendrils and grasses. At eleven o’clock, the log gave four miles and a half, and at twelve o’clock we were obliged, from want of wind, to lay-to at an Ambak-island. The wind returned, however, after a short time, and we sailed through a sea of green grass or reeds, where we saw over the extensive gently rising right shore a large city of the Dinkas, though we were not able to approach, owing to the reeds.
The Dinkas were seen at a distance, jumping in the air whilst they raised one arm, and struck their shields with their spears. This appeared to me rather a challenge than an expression of joy, as I concluded from the war-dances, the representation of which I had before witnessed. Their city is said to stretch far beyond this ridge, which the trees prevented us from remarking. Long swampy islands, with reeds and other plants, entwined one with the other, extend from their country to the middle of the stream. This is the case also, though on a reduced scale, on the left side. The distance of the shores from one to another is more than an hour. The reeds form in this manner a protection, which even when the water is at the highest is not to be overcome; just as at low water the Machadas form such a defensive barrier. In the same manner the Shilluks on the left shore have a marsh of reeds, under water, for protection. The Turks have managed, however, to come at these two nations by land. Suliman Kashef himself has twice defeated the Shilluks on the boundary of his district. These sudden and crafty attacks of a Chasua cannot, however, be called wars or battles. The animosity of these people to the Arabian hordes and marauding system goes so far, for example, that when they take a Bakhàra prisoner, they beat him to death with cudgels, death by the Harba (spear) being considered too honourable. On the contrary, they do not kill the Dinkas whom they may take captive, because they consider them as aborigines and old neighbours. The Arabs, however, do not slay the Shilluks taken prisoners by them, not so much out of respect to the Koràn, as from their inherent selfishness. When the Bakhàras come to the river to graze the cattle in the grass, which, after the reeds have been burnt away, contains nourishing fodder, there are continual petty wars between the Shilluks and Bakhàras, in which the latter display considerable bravery, as Suliman Kashef himself admits.
At three o’clock in the afternoon, we continue to sail towards the South in this immeasurable tract of water. On the right and left are partly grass islands, and partly reedy marshes, which join on to the shore, and must, when the water is higher, before the overflowed vegetation has yet made its way to the surface, form a regular long lake or gigantic stream. After four o’clock we landed on the right shore, where the white lotus was distinguished in the pools amongst the trees, with far larger flowers than is the case where neither shrub nor tree shelters it from the sun. The blue lotus (Nymphæa cærulea) called Loss by the Nubas and Baràbras, appears no longer here. On the left shore the smoke of signal-fires, certainly the most ancient kind of telegraph, ascended on all sides. At six o’clock we sailed again, and halted at a quarter past ten, just as the moon went down. A soldier plunged into the water and sank as he was about to touch land, probably seized by a crocodile. At sun-rise 18°, noon 26°, evening 24°, and after midnight, in the open air, 17° Reaumur.
3rd December.—Half an hour before sun-rise we proceeded, with a due North wind, towards the South. It was sensibly cold, though we had 16 degrees of Reaumur. Low and marshy land again at the side,—partly islands before the shores, properly speaking, the elevation of which was scarcely perceptible on the left side of the river. We had seen yesterday and the day before a few solitary tamarinds. Now they were very abundant, and the various shades of light and dark green of these beautiful trees, with their luxuriant foliage, cause a delightful sensation. Their fruit, so grateful in these parts, with its agreeable tartness, the first and last means of support of the Ethiopians, is called in the land of Sudàn, Aradepp; but in Egypt, Tammer-el Hendi (fruit of India); which seems to indicate no very great commercial intercourse between the Egyptians and Ethiopians. So also the rich gum-trees of these parts, from which the ancients derived equally little towards their immeasurable consumption of gum and resin, have first been used for the purposes of commerce in more modern times. From nine to ten we advanced four or five miles. The right shore a magnificent low country. Tamarinds, creepers of a large species, and the lotus shining in great numbers, like double white lilies. This stellated flower opens with the rising of the sun, and closes when it sets. I noticed, however, afterwards, that where they are not protected in some way from the ardent heat, they likewise close when the sun approaches the zenith. Some of their stalks were six feet long, and very porous; from which latter quality these stems, as well as the flower and the larger leaves—dark green above, and red-brown beneath, with a flat serrated border,—have a magnificent transparent vein; but become so shrivelled, even during the damp night, that in the morning I scarcely recognised those which I had over night laid close to my bed on the shore. The ancient Egyptians must, therefore, have been quick in offering up the lotus. The flower peeps out, however, only a little above the water, and the fruit sinks downwards, either from natural inclination, or from the weakness of the stalk, because the water, by the formation of it, has already fallen. The flower has above twenty tapering white leaves, arranged around a calix of a yellow gold colour, which is similar to that of the Nymphæa in our millponds. The fillet, from one and a half to three inches in diameter, is like a compressed poppy-head, and ring-like incisions extend from its imperceptible corolla to the stalk. The extraordinarily small white seed lies in a brownish, wool-like envelope, and fills the whole capsule. Not only are the bulbs, as large as one’s fist, of the lotus eaten, but also the seed just mentioned; they mix it with sesame, and other grain, amongst the bread-corn, which circumstance I ascertained afterwards, as we found a number of these lotus-heads strung in lines to dry. To our taste, the best way to dress the bulbs, and to free them from the marshy flavour they leave behind in the mouth, is to drain the water off several times in cooking them; they then taste nearly like boiled celery, and may be very nourishing; but I would not be a Lotophagus here, for I had much rather eat potatoes with their jackets on. Although there are a number of bulbous plants in these parts, serving for food to the natives, (specimens of which I collected, but they were spoiled for want of earthen vessels to keep them in,) yet potatoes might not thrive here any more than in Egypt, which is far colder, as they would become watery, by the continual irrigation, this being the case even with the grasses.
We sail S.S.W., make four to five miles, and have on the right hand grass marsh-islands. The expanse of water before us is limited only by a tree; to the left also of the right shore, a small ridge of heights displays itself, which may be considered as isolated alluvial deposits of downs. Nevertheless, it is sufficiently clear to me, that it is almost impossible to make an accurate map from a single voyage; this seems to have struck also the very learned Arnaud, for he is always consulting Selim-Capitan. Sabatier is ill, and the task therefore devolved on Arnaud, not only of observing the course of the river, but also the direction, beginning and end of the islands, &c., and all this with the windows hung with curtains! He may find out that the vessel is continually changing its course, but he could scarcely in this manner make a map of the stream, even if an air-balloon were placed at his disposal.