The shores in this region are not mixed with strata of sand in horizontal, but in undulatory layers, which may prove that a more violent influx into the reed-lakes took place here formerly, than in the present day. We navigate at four o’clock a short tract to E. and S.E., and immediately S.W. At sun-set, from S. to E. At the left a broad arm to N., perhaps having the main stream, for it shews here hardly any fall. We halt at the right shore, and take other natives from hence, for the purpose of acting as interpreters, instead of the former ones. From the mast is seen, on the left shore, two cities, and the great Haba, half an hour distant.

16th January.—I have passed a dreadful night, continually raving, and so far as I believe, I have not slept a minute. It was not till after sun-rise that we go with libàhn to E. by N.; an hour later S.E. Whilst I am counting seven villages on the left shore, along a dry gohr or Nile arm, I see on the right only one village. At half-past nine o’clock we sail S. by W. Ten o’clock.—The right shore is entirely covered with houses; thus the whole country presents, in a yet unseen extent, a cheerful cultivation of durra, simsim, tobacco, and lubiën (the phasels, or white beans, so frequently met with in the land of Sudàn). We see continually on the shores the ricinus and ushàr (asclepias procera), with luxuriant leaves, as well as the rigli, or purslane, which grows wild also in the gardens of Khartùm, and was our usual salad. At noon N.E., where a city on the right shore extended; then E., and subsequently S.E. Here I see, for the first time, the natives washing. Notwithstanding the proximity of the water, they make no regular custom of washing themselves, as is only too plainly seen by their bodies covered with ashes. They bring us large ivory tusks, as they did previously, and these were purchased in favour of government, for a few beads. Two o’clock.—On the right shore a large village, with a different sort of tokuls; and we go from N. by E. to S. It is unquestionable that there is an enormous population in this country of the Tshièrrs. The people have a friendly physiognomy, and the form of the face is more spherical than that of the other tribes.

17th January.—We halted yesterday evening close to a large city on the left shore, and remained there till eight o’clock this morning. This delay was caused by the natives constantly dragging down elephants’ tusks to us. The tokuls are like sheds, but barricaded round about with thick stakes, probably on account of the wild beasts. My European companions are very anxious about my health, and wish me not to write. They will lend a hand to me in every thing—very cunning of them! On the right and left villages. An island on the left shore, at least a gohr, enters into the land there; but where tarries the other gohr or Nile arm, that we saw four days ago? From E.S.E. to S.E. The north wind is better to-day than yesterday, when it set in, so desirable to me in my invalid state, and we make three miles. On the right shore a Haba, sometimes retreating a little, sometimes approaching. An innumerable crowd of negroes stood at the before-mentioned bend of the river, but we sail proudly by, without throwing out beads, and exciting the desire of such a mass of human beings for our glass riches. The people cultivate their fields, and are really better fed, but appear not to be equally particular about washing. The shores of the Nile are twelve to fifteen feet high, and there prevails a crumbling humus, easily rubbed to powder; always strongly, however, mixed with sand. These men, moreover, not only produce the fruits above alluded to, but also gàra and battigh (gourds and water-melons). Iron rings on the arms and feet seem to be regarded here with more respect than ivory rings. We leave two islands, of about two hours in length, at our side; they are also cultivated. As the country becomes more interesting, I feel myself happily a little better, and this may partly arise from the clearer air.

The natives say that the Felati, who wear clothing or rags (sharmuta), like our men, are only a few days’ journey from us to the west. I hear that these Felati, like the Tokruri, from Darfùr, being Muslims, make the pilgrimage to Mecca. It is certain that they do not take the road traversed by us, for nothing is known of them in Khartùm: it appears to me more likely that they join the pilgrim caravan of Burnu, and distribute themselves in the neighbourhood of the Nile, the better to beg their way through. Subsequently I became acquainted with a slave in Khartùm, who had come to the land of Sudàn, through Burnù. Felati means there dissolute roving men, such as these Tokruri, from the interior of Africa, generally are. It is thought that we shall meet with these Felati, and this is the more desired by me, because, as they partly speak Arabic, I could ask them questions myself, and should have no need of two or three interpreters, who translate in a careless manner one to the other.

Twelve o’clock. S.S.E. The stream is, as I predicted, more constant in its old limits, which have approached closer to us; we have generally a south-easterly direction. On the right also the wood is near, and I am curious to survey some of the beautiful green trees. The natives have brought us goats and sheep, but no cows; and do not seem to wish to give them. We have a small island on our left, and on the right the lower end of another, though we have not seen its commencement. Village connects itself to village, with broad low tokuls. We go from the south, where, on the left, through a simsim-field, separated from the river, stands a stately village, with reed palisadoes, to S.E. There ends the little island, and two other sandy ones immediately join on. Eight women are standing on the downs of the right shore before their village, and comfortably smoke their pipes. The isolated trees, with their beautiful branches and soft green foliage, have a very cheerful look. The simsim, cut-down, is regularly fixed together, like an arbour, in order to be dried. S.W., on the left, an island.

The shores are intersected with sandy strips. The larger tokul-roofs have an irregular form, with horns on the top, mistaken by the Turks for the crescent; they appear, however, to be the branches of the tree standing in the middle of the tokul. It is the gable of the house; and possibly we may look here for an adoration of animals bearing horns. On the right an island with beautiful foliage upon it; the channel is not broader than double the length of our vessel. To the left there is an island, and opposite it a mere deposit of an island, quite lively and verdant in the water; the river is again broader. On the right, and shortly afterwards on the left, two islands end, though we have not observed their lower part. Either they had not any water there, and were easily overlooked, or the stream branches so that we can scarcely form an idea of it. I look upon this portion of the White River, in regard to its uncommon mass of waters, with still greater respect, as a phenomenon difficult to be solved.

It is three o’clock. S. by W. Do I hear rightly?—they are speaking of Gebl—how that sound thrills to my heart! I call, but no one listens to me, for all are standing upon deck, and looking towards the mountain, which is said to be very large. In spite of the sun, and all remonstrances, I drag myself up on deck, and see the mountain to S.W., at a distance of about twenty hours. It seems to form an accumulation towards one point, and may surely be the forerunner of other mountains; therefore, after all, there are mountains of the moon. City crowds on city; and the Egyptians look out from the mast for herds of cattle, which are not, however, numerous. An innumerable population moves on the shores; to express their number our crew say, “Ketir, saie el tubàhn” (as many as flies); and we sail always, Allah Kerim, by the shore, which is quite black with people, who are standing as if benumbed with astonishment.

Four o’clock. From S.S.E. to S.S.W. The north-east wind good for four miles. It seems as if we were going to the chain of mountains, or, at least, coming nearer to it. Two days ago the natives whom we asked knew nothing of any mountain on the river. The river again becomes majestic at this bend, and gives us every favourable hope by its water-mark. On the right a small island, and another lies likewise planted in the middle of the river before us.

Five o’clock. S.W., and to S. An island on the left shore, where a gohr enters far into the land; then on the left a small island in our river, round which we proceed on the right, in order to come to the supposed gohr, which soon shews itself to be a main stream, flowing here S.E., and therefore not forming an island. Still there is an uncomfortable feeling at finding myself near the Equator in Central Africa, and being ill at the same time. Every man has his home, and this is frequently confined to such narrow limits that there is, properly speaking, only one favourite place in life. I was never a gourmand; but sauerkraut, now fresh from the tub—and I should be well on the spot.

At half-past five o’clock, from S.E. to S.S.W., and shortly afterwards S., and again S.S.W. I see strings of white beads, that may have been introduced by the Felati already mentioned; for the White Stream itself does not seem, up to this moment, to form any road of communication to the tribes who are ever at war with each other. From E.S.E. to S. by W., where we halt at sunset, and I go on shore. The Tshièrrs, possessing both shores here, are a very handsome race of men; tall, strongly built, and well fed. There is a good nature and courtesy in their behaviour, shewing, in itself, external cultivation. I can scarcely persuade myself that I am in the middle of Africa. The “stipes Æthiops,” as the Romans called it, always falls away the further we ascend the river. This type, indigenous particularly to the Dinkas, has not only entirely disappeared, but a nobler and more natural motion in the limbs has taken its place. Every one of these people wears a small wooden fife round his neck, having three tones. They say that the strings of glass beads they wear come from above (gèbeli, min fok), pointing up the river to the south. It almost seems as if there were a connection between these countries and the Atlantic Ocean. Although these people are armed with clubs, spears, bows, and poisoned arrows, yet there is something in the natural disposition of the human heart that prevents even our men from giving way to fear at a distance, but they take very good care not to offend the kind commoners of nature in any way.