We stopped, therefore, in a south-easterly direction before three o’clock, near the well-built village, which, at a distance, appears larger than it is; it numbers thirty-five tokuls, and is named Papio, and is the first village of a tribe calling themselves Bunduriàls. The name of the sheikh who came to meet us at the shore is Wadshia-Koï. On the right shore, up the country, the Tutui are said to dwell, but no huts are to be seen there. These Bunduriàls speak the language of the Keks,—a dialect closely allied to that of the Dinkas. In their powerful form of body they are also similar to the Dinkas, only better built; and their women smaller than the giant forms of the Dinka women, with their angular shoulders. Almost all the people here had a white feather in the black hair-bonnet on their heads. The latitude is, according to Selim Capitan, 5° 11′.
The river, which for some days has decreased in depth, amounts to two fathoms and a half, near the village of Papio, and, as I ascertained myself, to only two higher up. This is truly a considerable difference compared with the lower course of the river, but there always remains still a large mass of water in the breadth of two hundred to three hundred paces, near the precipitous falling-away shores. The rapidity of the river remains, on an average, one mile, yet less where the water is deeper. I have been since noon with Suliman Kashef and Feïzulla, on board Selim Capitan’s vessel. The latter has continually a sailor on the mast, and has counted eight lakes from yesterday noon till to-day. At half-past five o’clock libàhn to S.S.E., where a small lake is perceived on the left shore. A little after sun-set we halt for a moment, because the men are nearly worked to death with towing in the reeds, which are twice the height of a man. The thermometer, shewing before sun-rise 24°, and at noon 28°, had got up at three o’clock to 32°, and fell at sun-set to 30°. We went very slowly with a gentle north wind to S. by W., to N.E., and then right round to S.S.W. Selim Capitan is really very attentive at his post, although his momentary activity arises partly from our presence. I praise him, by way of encouragement, to induce him to go on as far as we can. About half-past six o’clock, we sailed with the wind blowing fresh S.S.W., and had three miles’ course, in a wide bend to S.E., till eight o’clock, and at half-past eight S.W., where a small island lay on our right; then a short tract S.E., and lastly E.
Selim-Capitan has a native on board, who is of the race of the Keks, and whose home was at Bakàk, near the village of Dim. His name is Dushóïl; he is a jolly old dog, with a half-blind eye. He journeyed with the expedition last year, and seems to have a natural talent for languages, for he managed to make himself understood generally with our blacks. I am able, therefore, to learn something from him. He calls the Nile “Kir,” and not Kiati, or Kiti; but I cannot vouch for it that I have rightly caught his pronunciation, incredible as this may appear. Water to drink, is “Piju;” good, “affiàt,” and “abàt;” bad, “arrashd,” or “arràdsh” (spoken with a humming sound); nothing, “liju;” to eat, “tshiàn;” mountain, “kur;” come, “Bà;” Hallo, men, “Ajajà!” His countrymen do not appear to be idol worshippers, and recognize a great God, who dwells much higher, or is like the mast of the ship, which he always pointed at to express His grandeur.
The name of the great Mek of the Keks is Kajòk: he does not know where he dwells, or perhaps may not wish to say, as well as many other things on which he was asked. It is probable that I was right in my former assertion, that their king is called Ajol, and his village Gòg, for he may connect both words in his indistinct language. He treats his own name also in a similar manner, by appending the word Dim, and then calls himself Dsholi-Dim. The Keks, as also the Bunduriàls, take the iron for their spears and arrows from the region of Arol, the mountain of which lies towards the west, and cannot be seen here, owing to the trees. Another tribe dwells there. From this place they fetch their copper for the few earrings that they wear, and upon which they do not seem to lay any particular value. I was glad that I was at his elbow for some time, although the coarse jokes of the Turks, in which even Selim-Capitan’s servants took part, annoyed me. He is a good fellow, and is obliged now to do at Rome as the Romans do. He could not pronounce C in the alphabet, but always said T, and swelled the tone at every repetition, without being able to come nearer to the pronunciation. He sang, screamed, and danced just as one wished: meat dried in the sun was given him; but he soon said, laughing, “Arrádsh,” because it agreed with his teeth as little as the dry biscuit did. A pipe was brought him to smoke, but the crew had filled it at the bottom with powder, which exploded; on account of this, he would not smoke any more, and was afraid even of a lantern, when one was brought close to him. Soon afterwards, he took the ashes from all the pipes, and put them in his mouth with the burnt tobacco. Hereupon I gave him some tobacco in his hand, which he kneaded together into a quid, and took in his mouth. A roasted leg of mutton was afterwards handed to him, and the cat immediately approached. He fairly divided it with her, and took great pleasure in this animal, because it could climb up the ropes. Then he was a long time enticing two young goats, by whistling, and calling “Suk-suk-suk,”—nature’s sounds, even used by us—and played with them as if they were his children. One of his principal songs began with “Abandejo,” and he managed to imitate the chorus, “Wai, wai, Abandejo,” &c.
Suliman Kashef had played some coarse Turkish jokes on him; he was offended for a moment, but he soon slid on his knees to him, in order that the latter might spit on the back and palm of his hands. He played the buffoon, because he had been once mad. Some time since, they hung beads round him, and put on him a shirt reaching to his stomach, and he had so raved about with joy, that he became at last sleepy, went into the cabin, and lay down upon Selim Capitan’s bed; but he was soon hunted out of that, and they made a bed for him under a cannon, to keep him safe from the further bantering of the crew. He is a commoner of nature, and so they all appear to me to be, but far from being savages,—and less barbarous, indeed, than many Europeans, who are clothed from head to foot. He was very much delighted with an Arabic song; I could see it by his face; now he comes nearer with more confidence, claps his hands, and shouts “Abàt,” or bravo! He wanted to learn it, and caught the tune rightly; but they laughed at him, and he became quiet again. Selim Capitan and I tried to imitate the idiom of his language; he thought he really understood something every now and then, and wanted even to correct us.
I saw, the day before yesterday, and previously, some tobacco plantations close by every tokul. I looked for this plant in vain to day at the two villages; perhaps it was already gathered. At nine o’clock, on the right, the village of Angort, or rather Awargot; which, as usual, was divided into a male (or herdsmen’s) and female village. Ten o’clock to the south; before the left shore an island,—course three miles and a half. At eleven o’clock S.S.W., we approach Arnaud’s vessel; he is on the point of furling sails, notwithstanding the favourable east wind. Selim Capitan habitually of a somewhat timorous nature, inquired of him whether he wishes to anchor here; without understanding his answer, he was also about to follow his example and halt, when I asked him whether he was commander or not. We sail on, therefore, and Arnaud is obliged, nolens volens, to follow. A little after midnight we cast anchor near the village of Aujan, and stood to the South.
7th January.—In the morning we landed on the left shore, where the great sheikh of the Bunduriàl nation presented himself as an old friend, being already known by the preceding expedition. He was of colossal figure, above six feet high, had a handsome aquiline nose, and a truly expressive physiognomy: about thirty years of age; naked, according to the custom of his ancestors. He was only distinguished from the others by wearing unusually large ivory rings on the upper part of the arm. His name is Biur. A red shirt and coral beads having been presented to him, he went away to procure meat, and to send messengers up the river to prepare a favourable reception for us. Behind this village of Aujan a large lake extends from N.N.W. to S.W., and a serpentine canal, some thirty feet in width, before the village, pours into it. Several people were moving on this long lake to catch fish: their implements were fish-baskets, of a whole, or half form, or mere wicker-baskets, which they dipped into the lake and quickly drew up again.
To judge from the ground inclining gently, as if in a flat dish, and from those trees, forming the arch from N.N.W. to S.W., being the forerunners of a thicker Haba, a very large lake must be filled here at high water. The greatest part of the water is afterwards let off, for the sake of fishing, through the before-named canal. An immeasurable quantity of water, generally, is collected in the low lands, according to all the appearances which I myself have found of such ponds in my short excursions into the neighbourhood. These always exercise a lasting effect on the lower height of the water of the White Stream, by their nearly simultaneous draining off, whilst they contribute mostly during the inundation to the sudden swelling of the White Stream by their connection with it. The tokuls of this village, which is called Auan or Auwan, are not badly built, but have low walls; the point of the roof also is not high. The lower wall, being of reeds, and plastered with Nile slime, is only three and a half or four feet high. The door is square here instead of the usual oval form; it is constructed of reeds, and before it are two stakes fixed in the ground, supporting a cross stake. Almost all the tokuls have a little porch before this door, which is covered by the roof being extended over it. The outer door is therefore lower than the inner one, and the inmates are compelled to crawl into the house. Generally, on the White Nile, it is necessary to stoop very much to enter the tokuls. The roof is indented according to the length of the straw bound up in hoops, and to the height of the roof itself; it has from five to eight separations. The point of the roof is covered, as I before remarked, by a gourd-shell, opening at the top and bottom, and forms a broad ring, in which the slender beams join.
Part of the people sat or stood there; only a few collected round our vessels. Many of them carried a long reed, instead of the spear, in their hands. They would not allow themselves to be measured, and continued to avoid me. I gave my servants three reeds of six, six and a half, and seven feet long, to stand near the natives, and by this means I ascertained their height. The average amounted to from six to seven Rhenish feet.[8] We ourselves were like pigmies among these giants. I might stretch myself to the utmost, but I could not come up to these men, though of the considerable height of five feet, two inches, four lines. The village numbers only twenty-eight to thirty tokuls, and lies along the shore to S.S.E. We sail away at eight o’clock, and in five minutes find a herdsmen’s village on our right side, and immediately afterwards another, near which the river winds to E., and we advance with libàhn. It is a large pastoral village, and appears to belong, with the preceding ones, to Aujan. The few tokuls of Aujan must serve the herdsmen, in the rainy season, as a place of refuge, for they lie tolerably high.
This morning, early, there were clouds in the sky, as is now generally the case; but still it is very warm, and we had, shortly before sunrise, 22° Reaumur. When I consider the endless labyrinths of the White Stream, and the eternal slackening of the winds, I fear that we shall never arrive at the sources of the White Nile. The stream is, as it were, without a border in the rainy season, and towing then is an impossibility, even if the south winds connected with it should not be violently against us. Yet I cannot resist the thought that it is not only possible to discover the sources, but also to scale the mountains lying to the south, of which all these tribes speak, and to pass over in some other stream territory to the Western Ocean. These thoughts occupy my mind when I sit at night before the cabin, and indulge in the reflection of such a bold undertaking, and one that would not be depreciated by the scientific world. My men are enraptured at such a proposal; but dare I confide in their courage? Yes, for if I did not, I should have turned them off long ago.