Seven o’clock.—The wind had slackened after sunrise, and the sailors now sang at the rope; women and cows hallooed and lowed in opposition. I had forgotten to observe the thermometer, whilst we were passing by the burning reeds; but now, after seven o’clock, when we have the fire behind us, it shews 28° Reaumur. By reason of the great danger, we try to get out of the reeds; the men at the rope are in a very difficult position when darkness sets in, for they wound their feet on the reed-stubble. On the left are two gohrs for catching fish, near another small lake. A little village lies on the top of the third island, with nine summer tokuls. On the right shore extends the long tokul village, and opposite to it twinkles a gohr, near a village. Behind us, the reeds burn in full blaze, to an immeasurable distance. From the mast:—from W.S.W. to N.W., a marsh, with isolated ponds, stretching far and wide; on the left, to S.E., a vast lake, the edge of which vanishes with the horizon. It is already too dark, and we halt, after eight o’clock, in the neighbourhood of a herdsmen’s village on the left shore, where the river winds from E.S.E. to E.
Suliman Kashef sends for me, because he is going to give a great fantasie, or feast to the sailors, as a reward for their strenuous labours in bringing us out of the reach of the fire.
9th January.—The thermometer, which yesterday evening remained at 28°, stood this morning, shortly before sunrise, at 16°. Our vessel dragged her anchor to-night, owing to a heavy squall of wind. Then arose again the usual noise, about which the captain troubled himself but little. I had felt a shock of the vessel, but did not think that it would be attended by any consequences; but as the hippopotami had already run against the vessels sometimes with such violence that they leaked, I paid some attention to what was going on. By way of precaution, the planks before the cabin were taken away, that we might be able to see when the water ascended into the lower hold. A gaffir (sentinel) had been placed there, but I had known for a long time how these night posts fulfilled their duty. I looked down, therefore, a short time afterwards into the hold, and saw that it was already full of water.
The sentry gaped prodigiously when I woke him up by a vigorous blow. The powder-room under our cabin stood open, so that the gaffir might observe the better; therefore I could not be too quick in ordering water to be poured on the fire, which was burning furiously on the hearth, and which some one had kept up from fancy,—perhaps the sentinel himself, to light his pipe. Then I awoke the rest of the crew, for Feïzulla Capitan lay like a log, because when the habùb set in, he had fortified his courage too much with the araki brewed by himself.
Immediately after sunrise, when the water was got out, we were towed to the left shore E., and immediately N.E. by E. From the mast:—on the left, to the N., lies a village near a small lake; on the right two villages in the plain before the Haba. The wood is an hour distant, but not of the same thickness as those of yesterday and the day before, on the left shore. We go S.S.W., where, on the left, is a village in a short bend in S.E. The whole horizon before us is covered with horned cattle shining from afar. My servants have purchased, on land, several skins of wild beasts, worn by the natives around their shoulders. Seven o’clock: seventeen to twenty genuine tokuls, and behind, a pastoral village, with the usual appearance. The men sing to our sailors, who are towing, but yet they remain on the large hills of ashes; the women sing “Abandejok,” jump, and recite besides God knows what other pretty things. Their village lies about eight feet high, and it does not seem that the high water reaches there, for we do not perceive any repairs to the lower clay walls of the tokuls. The surface of the earth behind the sand-shores is low ground. Half-past seven o’clock. From S.E. with a short bend io S.S.W.
A number of Bohrs are standing upon the point of land formed by a gohr to E.; they complain to us that the Elliàbs dwelling on the other side of the gohr have stolen their cows. We are no priests of justice, and continue our course. This gohr appears, therefore, to form the boundary between the Bohrs and Elliàbs. I was surprised that the former tribe did not dare to cross over the canal, which is about thirty paces broad, and probably connected with a great lake, as the choked-up dams prove, and claim their property manu forti. Their whole system of warfare may possibly consist only in such coups-de-main, from which, for the moment, eventual brawls may arise. It does not appear to me probable that a whole nation arms and takes the field against the other, for this would be a war of annihilation, which cannot take place, as the numerous population shews.
Eight o’clock. From S.E. to S.S.E. with sails; for the north wind freshens. Whilst I am writing this, the wind suddenly blows from S.E., and we are glad to halt at the left shore, where the sand is heaped up more than ten feet high. We go on by the rope. A storm comes from the south-east wind, but shews itself, however, as a mere blast of wind (habùb). At half-past eight o’clock we sail a short tract to S., but then again libàhn to S.E., on the right shore. Ten o’clock. An innumerable quantity of cows in the low ground on the right side of the shore, where there are more pools and a pastoral village. Again were oxen dragged to us.
We notice a large encampment of herdsmen, somewhat up the country, in the river behind the little pastoral village: I call it an encampment because there are no huts there, but sheds, as a protection against the sun, lying flat upon four stakes, the walls being partly protected by reeds. These straw huts, with flat roofs, which I had seen also besides in the pastoral villages, and which serve in the whole country of Sudàn, during the hot season of the year, for household labours, are called by the Arabs Rekùba. Even the open porches of the clay-houses are so called. Besides these, the reed-walls, protecting the very large fires of the encampment against the wind, stand far and wide around, and glistening herds of cows pasture there on all sides. The abundance of herds might give, indeed, some scale by which we could judge of the population, as I see from the rearing of the beasts that a certain number of hands are necessary. Still S.E., and behind the high reeds of the river another little pastoral village, near which we go to S. Eleven o’clock. On the right a tokul city at the point where we go S.W. Seventy to eighty houses stand along the shore, and we perceive, in a straight line, an arm of the Nile, separating a level island from a large pool. Immediately behind the city a pastoral village extends here and there, with that arm, towards the south.
There are many people on the shore, singing their “Abandejok:” the old women are particularly distinguished in this welcoming. We heard, horribile dictu, the clattering noise they make by striking their hanging breasts up and down; remaining with closed knees on one spot, they jumped or sprang up, swinging backwards and forwards their elbows and hands in a horizontal direction, and, bringing both hands before them, greeted us, or begged for something. The younger ones stood at a distance, and looked at the play,—kept back, indeed, more by the men than by their own bashfulness. The men swam over the arm of the river, in order to accompany us still further along the shore, or rather to catch a few beads. Opposite this hamlet are some tokuls, with a large pastoral village. We navigate S.S.W., and half past eleven o’clock S.E.
On the right a gohr discloses itself here, towards the south; two brooks flow now into its shores, close to one another; they join at high water like an arm of the river,—not deep, indeed, but yet as broad as the river we traverse. Opposite to its mouth is what seems a village, the huts in which appear to consist of sheaves of reeds joined together. On closer inspection, I see that it is not a village, but green reeds cut down and placed together to dry, to be used for building materials. We remark that the gohr goes subsequently to S.W., and see towards the west a pastoral village, connected with the tokul city. The extreme margin of the right shore is seven feet, and of the left three feet; the shores themselves ascend up to ten and twelve feet in height. On all sides, as far as the eye can reach, water tracts glisten in the low grounds.