The breadth of the current amounts generally here to about five hundred paces; its reed-lakes are always at the side. At half-past two o’clock we move slowly S.S.E. with the north wind, which has nearly died away, and set to work with the oars. We are glad that it is a north wind, thinking that it may become constant before the end of this month. Four o’clock. What Fadl said three hours ago is confirmed even now, inasmuch as I see from the deck the right shore more than a quarter of an hour distant, though I am not able from the cabin to look over the reeds. The palms stand here in graceful rows, and satisfy the wandering eye in search of something to rest upon; an isolated dhellèb is also seen far up the river. We sail W. by S., and a skirt of trees with some dhellèbs behind approaches us, but is lost soon again in the distance to S.W. There is nothing to be distinguished on the left shore. Ant-hills are visible in the reeds, among which, in spite of their fresh green, there are dry spots.

On the right shore we noticed a giraffe and twenty elephants, the latter teazed in an impudently friendly manner by white birds, against whom they tossed up their trunks: their tormentors, however, always returned to their heads and high backs, in order to pick the ticks out of their thick skins, like the crows on the pigs in Greece. They appear to me to be the very same birds we saw in Egypt perched on cows and camels. When the last-named animals have old wounds on their backs, they are visited by birds of prey. I was never allowed to shoot them, because the Arabs believe that they pick out only the tainted flesh, and even contribute to heal the wounds, when the unmerciful cauterization of these people proves ineffectual. Mariàn shewed me some trees, of singular shape, having a corolla like that of a cactus. They are called Shudder el Simm, or poison-trees. On the left bank of the river I saw fourteen miserable tokuls upon the partly dried up morass, projecting between the reeds, and various iron pots lying about. They had the usual pointed roof of straw or halfa; the lower wall of reeds was plastered over with morass. Judging from this plaster, which had fallen off three feet high from the earth, the water had only risen here four feet, reckoning the height of the island at a foot. This, the highest water-line, had not been able to carry away an old thatched roof of some four feet high, and six feet diameter.

Beyond these fishing-huts, spread far and wide in the water, is reed grass, overtopped like a bush by high rushes. Now I find it explained why the White Stream on the efflux of these slime-lakes, wherein thousands of animals miserably die, stands in such bad repute in Khartùm, because we found ourselves a short time ago, when in a tributary arm of the river, in a nonplus,—the water being really undrinkable. A microscope might generally give interesting results in these places. The lakes must not be considered as similar to the slime-lakes of the Blue Nile, Rhine, and Rhone.

Sunset, six o’clock.—From the mast the right shore is seen retreating to the distance of an hour, and approaches again before us, whilst the left bank comes near us for a moment, so that a round basin with a wide mouth is created. We hoist sails, and row to S.E. by S.

It is evident that the Nile, which we traverse, in spite of all its circular windings, can never go out of the path of that old shore so often denoted. It is certain that these windings enclose the gigantic bed of the stream in vast curved lines; for the primitive stream could not be arrested by a paltry opposition, as the present one is, even by the reeds. If a journey by land were practicable on the old border of the Nile, the road would be far shorter. The thermometer has now got up to 25°. We stay behind during the night, because the crew will not work any more. Feïzulla Capitan retreats ashamed into the cabin and says not a word.

20th December.—Even before daybreak I went out of the cabin to watch the weather; but the mist which melted away yesterday morning at the rising-sun, did not make its appearance. Nevertheless, I watched for the third time the dawn of morning, and found I could read a printed book three-quarters of an hour before sunrise. The morning dawn is, therefore, not so very short as is generally believed. I had previously remarked this also in Khartùm. We had 26° Reaumur, yesterday afternoon, in spite of the dead calm only 25°. The fall of dew was considerable, and wetted my guns even through the window, which I had scarcely opened. The hippopotami put their heads above water, as if to consider the appearance of our ships.

Immediately after the sunrise a gentle wind arose, directly increasing, however, to a strong breeze, and we sailed from the north, S.W.; but soon rounded a sharp corner of the reeds on the right shore towards E. A group of high rushes of twenty feet high above the water was entwined picturesquely with the blooming convolvulus, which also floated in long tendrils with numerous flowers upon the water, intersected, likewise, by high aquatic herbs and low plants. The water hurries partly in cheerful flowing rivulets through this group, in order to seek the nearest channel. The left shore surrounds us at a distance of half an hour or an hour, in a beautiful arch, with palm clumps and isolated trees, from N. to S. by E.

Our course amounts to two miles and a half, and the rapidity of the river here is generally half a mile. Nine o’clock.—Just as I lift up my eyes, we go again from S.W. to E. by S., and immediately to S.W., where we see some strong trees before us. Half-past nine o’clock, S., then S.W., subsequently S., and then S.E., with four miles’ course.

Once more we see, after a lapse of a long time, a certain number of people, said to form a considerable nation, under the name of Kèks. The little village yonder contains only thirteen wretched tokuls; the pointed roofs are low, and, like the walls, of straw. Among the trees there are some which branch out vigorously, and have a thick green foliage; they are said also to be found in upper Kordofàn or Nuba, where, according to Mariàn, they are called Tihls. Their fruit is long and large, like the pumpkin, and edible. Possibly a Nuba negro may think them relishing; but subsequently, when we found a number of such trees, called by the Arabs elephant-trees, I found the unripe fruit not eatable. The Arabs also, who themselves eat locusts, although not from choice, never eat this fruit even when ripe. Isolated poison-trees also stand round about there. A second village lay back in the reeds. The people were of a livid colour, and naked; they smear themselves, as the Shilluks are said partly to do, with Nile slime, as a protection against the sting of gnats.

It was affecting to see how these poor creatures raised both hands high in the air, and let them slowly fall, by way of greeting. A woman likewise, naked to the girdle, greeted us, placing her elbows somewhat close to her body, and made with her hands, the flat side upwards, the motion of saluting usual also with us. She had an ivory ring round her head, and another round the neck; which last must have been either ingeniously put together, or slipped over her head in her youth. The men wore ivory rings around one arm. A man turned towards his hut, as if inviting us in; another stood alone, lifted his hands, and jumped round in a circle upon one spot.