The beautifully hunchbacked camels from Beni-Amer were abused as being hashim (stupid, silly), because they feared the water. Water-skins were inflated and fastened to the breasts of these animals, which were driven before us in a drove, with as much trouble as those that bore burdens and were tired. The guides, holding the long halters or ropes, plunged into the Atbara before them, and curses, cries, pushes, and the unmerciful Nabùt (a stick four feet long and an inch thick) assisted in sending the camels after them. Several of the animals, and also three or four horses, from Taka, which had no opportunity of learning to swim, for the beasts at the time of the inundation are driven into the Gallas, or elevated parts, were drowned, without their loss being mourned, except by the owners. On the march to Taka, we had here in the month of March nearly ridden through, dryfooted, on pebbly ground, where we now, in September, found the Atbara a powerful mountain stream. A motley mixture were we, of about 20,000 men, white and black cavalry (Turks, Magrabis, and Shaïgiës), dromedaries, and pack-camels, and more than 4,000 asses for the infantry, which, when they heard the numerous hyænas or lions prowling about their confined quarters, struck up a horrible concert. Two field-pieces, moreover, alternately drawn by mules and camels trained for the purpose, chests containing 3,000 axes for cutting through the forests, and a quantity of powder upon the camels, which, though piled up very equally between numerous fires, “Alla Kerim,” did not trouble us in the least. Yet I must not here speak of that campaign, and narrate the scenes and recollections that obtrude themselves on my mind, but I intend to publish them as they are set down in the journal I had with me on that occasion. Fodder and provisions arrived as I had ordered; that portion of the train which still remained on this side commended my advice, and determined, as darkness was coming on, to pass the night on the right shore. After I had discovered a clear place quite close, we left the bush and lay down there, to be secure, and to protect ourselves from being struck with a lance to the ground before we could even fire a shot. In a short time several little fires blazed, and there was cooking, roasting, and baking of pancakes and bread. I slept, in the meantime, behind the barricade of my chests, in order to keep watch during the night with the Circassians and Turks. Notwithstanding we were all very tired, I was fully persuaded that those Muslims would watch, as they had brought with them as slaves some pretty brown girls, whom they had purchased in the camp of Kassela, out of the booty of Mount Basa. The following day we crossed over to the other side. My Hamàl, or camel-servant, Hammed, took his great favourite camel himself by the rope and swam before it; but he soon returned back to me disconsolate, for his murkeb (ship), as he called it, caught by the strong current, had broken the cord, which was made of the bark of a tree, just as he had found a favourable resting-place upon a sand-bank close by. Nevertheless, he trusted every thing to the size and sagacity of his beast, and immediately disappeared from my side. On the following evening I saw him again in Gos Rajeb, but without murkeb. I voluntarily belonged to the last party that crossed,—two old Turks, a Kurd, and myself with my servants. On the moment of pushing off, some Arabs sprang on my chests, but the tall stout Kurd, whom Suliman Kashef had sent over to me as a Charon that might be entirely depended upon, struck two of them into the water at the same time with his oar as if with a flyflap, by which the miserable skiff was nearly upset. At the head of this boat sat the Kurd in great state, in shirt and breeches; on the luggage was enthroned Sale from Mahass, his ferda thrown loose over his shoulders, enjoying himself on merissa (a kind of beer). At my feet squatted the Turks upon the wet planks, in full dress, with heavy pistols in their girdles; behind them, on the brim of the obtuse stern, I had my place, dressed in a light gauze shirt, so that if the wind came on and threatened to drown the others, I might not, in case of necessity, be looked upon and seized as a raft. Certainly this Kurd, who was very much relied on for his skill on the water, had assured me, on his head, that I might, in case of an accident, ride upon him, as upon a river buffalo (gamùss el Bah’r—hippopotamus); but I preferred to depend on myself, and the more so, because the Atbara is not broader than the Rhine at Bonn. The Turks said their prayers, shook their heads involuntarily at every stroke of the oar, to which they calmly resigned themselves as their directing fate; for this vibrating motion of the turbans, which are set generally on decayed vertebral columns, always takes place, especially in steam-vessels. My corpulent hippopotamus, the Kurd, laughed and made fun at them whilst moving round the sand-banks and along the steep broken shore, without their answering him a single word.
Gos Rajeb means the Hill of Rajeb, from a Sheikh or saint, who first settled here. Though only appearing to our eyes a village, yet it is esteemed in this country as an important commercial city, the inhabitants of which are partly merchants from the Nile, and partly Nomads of the family of the Shukuriës, Bisharis, and others. The latter have renounced the rights of their race (gens, genus), and left their peculiar alliance (Kabyle, from Kab’l); being, like other wild animals who have been caught, dressed and also protected by the halo of their founder. But their Sheikh asserts that the old stock of the inhabitants is an indigenous people of the soil from the earliest times (min aslu).
I lay there, towards evening, upon an angareb (a convenient bedstead, made of thongs of camel-skin twisted cross or check wise), and looked back towards the two rocky hills of Herrèrem, on the other side of the river, where last night might have proved a bad one to us. These rocks with their magnificent ruins had deceived us brothers before, in the same manner as they did the learned Burckhardt, for the here commonly called “Kenisse betal Kuf’r” (Church of Kafirs or Unbelievers) composes chief of the fore part, so that we climbed up with much labour. Moreover, the City of the Nazrani (Christians), said (according to the statement of the Sheikh who accompanied me at this time, by command of the Basha, from Gos Rajeb,) to have been larger than Masr (Káhira), might have been very extensive, as I convinced myself by the tombs, and especially the foundation-walls of cities, and burnt masses on the north-east of Herrèrem; so that the word Kenisse, which is here only applied to a Christian monument, is not without significance in the mouth of the people. The market, as we see at the time of the greatest height of the water, points also directly to this uninhabited spot, as an ancient emporium between the tribes of the inner countries and the Red Sea. On our present arrival at the Atbara, I had remarked, about an hour’s walk to the south of this rock, some three hundred paces from the right bank, not only tombs and tiles, but also a tolerably large though low shelf of rocks, of an oblong form, the sides of which shewed niches and cavities seemingly made by the hands of men. I had just tied my obstinate dromedary to a tree to graze, and had turned my back to him, when he broke loose and started after the team, which had trotted before; whereupon, the completely exhausted Archæologist no longer surveyed his little Acropolis without pillars and temples, but ran after him, and forgot everything.
Suliman Kashef, reclining also on an angareb, overhung with a magnificent Persian carpet, presided like an incipient Basha, over a divan placed at his feet, of mats made from palm-leaves, on which there sat some inhabitants of Gos, and the neighbouring Sheikhs. A silver drinking-cup passed from his hand to mine, and again to his, whilst the Sheikhs were looking as if interrogating one another, and my Circassian neighbour became more and more talkative. We drank wine which a merchant of my acquaintance had brought with other provisions thus far, though he did not dare to press forward to the camp. “Dauer!” (medicine), said the Kashef, with averted countenance, and his face of the colour of japan, when a fellow, attempting to be witty, shewed a desire to drink with him. In the very same moment, he exclaimed “Shuff el Marassin” (Look at the pimp! or bad fellow.) The Haddendas announced their tardy arrival at the Atbara, by setting fire to some hundred tokuls (plural tàkela,—straw-huts formed like a cross with pointed roofs), which Ahmed Basha had ordered to be erected for the cavalry.
The further narration of the journey to Khartum (to which place we arrived in a westerly direction across the country of ancient Meroë, and through the wide extended, treeless, but excellent pasture-land of Butàna and over Halfaia,) I withhold for the present for the description of my later expedition to the much spoken of, but hitherto only visited by me, Mandera, Nasùb, Kheli, &c., in the south-eastern part of Meroë. In Halfaia, which may be called a city from the castles of earth or clay (Kasr, called by the Baràbras Hosh a castle) of poor petty kings (Moluk, sing. Melek or Mek), who are robbed by the Turks, and extremely badly, or not at all pensioned, Suliman Kashef left us in order to cross over to the neighbouring Kárreri to see his family. So also did Melek Hammed, who was generally reckoned the bravest among the so-called Shaïgiës. He was the son of Wu-Mahmùd, the last king or toparch of Dongola, who was murdered by the Memlukes (Mamelik). We were great cronies, and I was sorry for him when the Basha sent him away from the camp; because, by his unfortunate attempt to connect himself and the men under his command with the well-known Nim’r, he had given grounds for being dreaded the most of all the Shaïgiës. It is incredible how extensive the knowledge of this robber-king was with respect to the details of the topography of the whole country,: these are, as it were, family secrets, which are only disclosed, as a particular favour, over the goblet.
The sight of the Nile had already rejoiced my heart at Halfaia, but this was still more the case at Hubba, opposite Khartùm, where I became accurately acquainted with the border of the blue river. I learnt to value its extraordinary height so much the more, because it promised to be exceedingly favourable to our voyage of discovery to the level of the White Stream. We fired off our muskets, and let the camels lie down, when our shots were answered from the windows of the divan, or the house of the Basha. The Chasnadar (treasurer and steward of the Basha) had recognized me with a telescope, and had sent me immediately a comfortable vessel belonging to the great man. Every one hurried to Hubba to receive intelligence from the seat of war; and it was plain to be seen that the people would rather have heard of Ahmed Basha’s being with the devil than coming to Khartùm.
The east wind soon brought us to the other side. I, for my part, slipped away under the narrow trellised windows of the Harim, where I heard women’s voices calling “Hakim Bashi” “Hakim Bashi,” to the lower part of the great earthern palace, where they pulled me in through the window—so that I had not to make a great circuit—on account of the water which had overflowed. If I was not exactly among old friends, yet I was again among acquaintances who, at least, appeared to be pleased at seeing me, and who, with one voice, asked after the Hakim Bashi Yussuf, my brother, who was very much missed in Khartùm, and whom they were accustomed to see always with me. But there sat again Suliman Kashef behind the wine-flask of the Basha, in the jolliest humour, laughing and boasting what he had done in the meantime, and yet that he had arrived before me. A profuse breakfast was served, at which also Selim-Capitan was present, who was forced to drink some wine. The great guns were fetched, and, being placed at the windows, thundered out the announcement that it was a Turkish rejoicing. In order also to deceive the people, orders were given to fire the cannons, which was done without delay, we being looked upon as messengers of victory. Abdalla Effendi, the Wakil or deputy of the governor, came in at this alarum, greeted us, and wished us joy of the victory at Taka; but, as a worthy Moslem, he soon withdrew his potent nose, that he might escape for a time the scandal of drinking wine. At last there appeared on the scene another godly person, of the purest breed, whose heart burned to hear tidings of the Effendi—whom may the Prophet protect! (Ahmed Basha also bears, like all great dignitaries, the title of Effendina, in Turkish Effendim or excellency, and the great Basha, Mohammed Ali, is then for distinction called Effendina Kebir.) This was the great Kadi and Bishop of Belled-Sudan, who was the only one before whom the Basha, who was just of as pure blood, rose from the divan, and permitted to sit on his right hand close to his ear. The great man, as the master, having once taken, remained in his seat, which looked towards the principal door of the hall, and allowed him to place his legs under him conveniently. Turkish etiquette is carried to a great extent, and requires a kind of study.
We two slightly saluted each other by bending forward the right shoulder, because the Basha, shortly before the march to Taka, had called me and my brother his right and left eye, which saying he was obliged to repeat here, in order to excuse his friendship towards Kafirs. Conscious of his dignity, the high-priest sat down upon the place of honour in the corner of the reception-room, at the right hand as you enter. In the great audience-hall of the Basha, this elevated seat of honour is over the divàn, covered with a red or blue velvet cloth with gold or silver embroidery, and deeply fringed, with low pillows set round it; but there are days when scarcely a Mohammed Ali, or the Sultan himself, is allowed to sit upon this, or any of the seats in the public divàn. The word Divàn signifies not only the broad sofa running round the wall, or the sitting of a ministerial council, but every sitting on business transactions and conversation in council, as well as the hall and even the building in which this takes place, and also the reception-room in private houses. The servants in attendance had been dismissed, but the Kadhi, who being a Magarb, knew wine, and had himself in our house praised the Spanish as the best. He had, moreover, not disdained a cordial made of the same by my brother, which he took as a stomachic medicine, but pretended now not to know anything of the new Turkish labour in the vineyard of the Lord in conspectu omnium, and only gazed upon the Chasnadàr with his cunning eyes. The latter, a Circassian, who had grown up in the service of Ahmed, went into a room close by, and brought the poor man a golden or gilded kupa with a cover; whereupon the grand inquisitor sipped his refreshing draught with much goût, carefully covered again the vessel and placed it close by him at the window. The Chasnadàr, who, close to me, was arranging himself in his place, said, in his excitement, much louder than was necessary, “el Spitzbub kebir,” and clapped his hands for the servants. The Kadhi Kebir had received this name at the suggestion of the Basha, when the latter, just as the Kadhi left him, asked us how a misaur is called by the Nemzas; and my brother immediately answered Spitzbub (rogue), which those close around the Basha received with real ecstasy. However, Misaur means properly a talkative fellow,—ergo, a liar and knave;—Faki, or Fakir misaur, denotes a hypocrite or lying priest, the number of whom here is legion in proportion to the population, by whom the Faki (plural Fokra) are not generally held in esteem. The Kadhi did not concern himself about this title of honour, but, with the utmost tranquillity, drank his champagne out of the ciborium, in pious draughts.
Nevertheless every thing was soon prepared for the departure of the expedition. The north and north-east winds, although not constant, as is usually the case at the beginning of November, and which generally commence here after the rainy season, had invited us for a long time to take advantage of the high water, that threatened to engulf Khartùm at the end of September from both sides of the river. Nothing was wanting except the arrival of the two French engineers, who squatted two-and-forty days in Korusko, because Arnaud would not pay temporarily, out of his own pocket, for the hire of some camels, which they required over the number allowed to them in the Firman or teskerè, to convey their baggage through the desert.
Sabatier, the younger of the Frenchmen, confessed to us, without disguise, that he, for his part, could not have paid for the camels, as he had already borrowed money from his colleague, Arnaud, before they reached Korusko; and he accused the latter of having unjustifiably delayed his journey, for the purpose of putting off the expedition till the following year, and to pocket the pay of a bimbaschi (major) during the interval, in spite of their beards. This is quite consistent with the character drawn of him by his own countrymen and the Franks. Eternal regret for the lost forty-two days! Without this delay, our voyage might have had quite a different result.