CHAPTER III.
MIMOSAS AND TAMARIND-TREES. — DIFFERENT SPECIES. — DURRA AND CREEPING BEANS. — RELIGION OF THE ETHIOPIANS. — SECOND VISIT OF LÀKONO. — THE CROWN-PRINCE TSHOBÈ. — PARTICULARS OF THE COUNTRIES OF BARI AND BERRI. — DESCRIPTION OF LÀKONO’S FAVOURITE SULTANA. — MOUNTAINS IN THE VICINITY OF BARI. — THEIR FORM AND DISTANCE. — ISLAND OF TSCHANKER. — REMARKS ON LÀKONO’S LEGISLATION AND CONDUCT. — THE NJAM-NJAM, OR CANNIBALS. — CUSTOMS AND ARMS OF THE NATIVES. — THE TROPICAL RAINS.
25th January.—At eleven o’clock we leave our island at the right shore, and halt towards the south, for the north-east wind is favourable to us. On the right and left are several little villages, and on the right shore a low foreland, which we had already visited and found very fertile. Several poison-trees stand near the village lying in the background. The bushàr and garrua have not left us, but cover the greatest part of the shore, where the thorn-bushes appear to diminish, the nearer we approach the equator. We remark the very same circumstance with respect to the mimosas, and in those that we still here and there see, the leaves are broader and seem to announce varieties or different species. Even the tamarind-tree, from which we have already gathered ripe fruit, has a different physiognomy here to what we see in the country of the Shilluks; the branches are more slender, and the larger leaves are not so thickly piled one upon the other. I was laughed at by my servant when I asked the name of this tree.
We sail along the left shore, and advance three miles and a half; but one ship soon gets obstructed here, another there, and the water-track pointed out to us by the natives is really very narrow. The stream, which might previously have been about three hundred paces, is here certainly five hundred. A large island, with another smaller one, covered with durra, rises out of it. At one o’clock S.S.W., in which direction we sail now at the right shore, where the water is better than we had thought. The negroes continue to run along the shore, or in the shallow places plunge into the water, and cry as loud as they can to us to stop a little and barter with them. The right shore is planted with durra, but it is already harvested. It is a small reddish kind, giving but little meal. At the previous landing-places there were, amongst other plants, several small creeping beans, of white and red colour, thriving luxuriantly on the ground. A small island on our left.
I hear, from the mast, that nineteen mountains (gùbàl) are counted, without reckoning the small ones. The chain of mountains is, properly speaking, not wooded; but that which looks like a forest, from a distance is, in reality, the fragments of rocks, with which they are nearly all studded at the base: yet between these blocks a tree and copsewood here and there thrives, which may sprout out beautifully green in the rainy season. A splendid ground, covered with trees, and inclined towards the river, approaches to the foot of the Korek, but does not probably afford the shade we suppose at a distance. The shores are not only very strongly intersected with layers of sand, but also the mould of the dam itself is completely mixed with sand. Therefore it seems that the river enters now into a rocky bed, from the mountains of which there is not much fertility to wash away.
Two o’clock; W. by S. On the left shore again, several of those round-headed beautiful trees, with large acacia-leaves, under which the negroes seek for shade. The Frenchmen had, according to yesterday’s measuring, 4° 40′ north latitude, and 41° 42′ east longitude, from Paris. Selim-Capitan, however, found 4° 35′ north latitude, and 30° east longitude. At half-past two o’clock we go with the river S.S.W., which direction it seems to retain for the present. On the left an island. The people still continue to shout, but they run no longer, as if they were mad, into the water, to cling to and hold fast to the vessels, for the sailors rap their fingers smartly; but stand quietly on one foot, resting the other against the knee. Three o’clock; S.S.W. The water is not bad, and we shall have, perhaps, a good course for a considerable time, if we only sound properly. On the right there is a small island, with a couple of tokuls behind upon the shore. Immediately on the left is another shallow island, with luxuriant durra. The natives wade through the water to an island situated not far from the left shore, upon which we see a farmyard. Two more islands follow this one, and they swarm with black people. Four o’clock. The direction of the river is always still S.W., whilst we seek for deeper water in the windings of the stream. Right and left are islands, and also tokuls, part of which peep over the trees. The forms of the mountains become more visible and different from what they had hitherto appeared. This produces uncommon changes in the landscape, where all the surface of the earth is picturesquely skirted with trees.
Who would have thought of such a beautiful country in the centre of Africa, and looked for such a well-proportioned, gigantic race as we see yonder! They are real giants. Go on shore, look at the Turks, the Christians, and our other companions,—what children they seem standing in the middle of this crowd of Titans. Half-past four o’clock. Rocks shew themselves, for the first time, in the river. Three large, and several small ones form an ominous crossline for our voyage. At five o’clock we halt at an island near these rocks. Here there are picturesque materials enough, and nothing shall prevent me from taking a panorama of this region.
The people appear to be favoured of God as of heaven itself. The sun and moon do not appear to excite any unusual ideas here, although the former may be welcome in the morning, when they shake off the night’s frost with the ashes, and in the evening to light them when they return from the chase, from labour in the fields, and from battle, or when they drive home their herds. The moon is of less service to them, for they go to roost with the fowls. The beneficent deeds of these two luminaries are too regular. But the canopy of heaven itself may direct their thoughts above; from thence comes the rain, irrigating their fields, causing the stream to increase, filling and animating anew their large fish-ponds. God’s water is allowed to flow over God’s land, and they are pleased at the cheerful harvest, without praying, beseeching, and returning thanks, for they may look upon periodical rain as a regular tribute from above. Heaven does not forsake her people here, and the inexorable sun, parching up everything, has perhaps never been worshipped by the Ethiopians.
We lie now to the eastern side of the island of Tshànker. King Làkono visited us to-day a second time, and brought with him a young wife from his harìm. He took off his hand the orange-coloured ring, on which Selim Capitan fixed a longing eye, and presented it to him with a little iron stool, plainly forged in a hurry. The Crown-prince, Tshobè, has a very intelligent countenance, and seems to me to be a clever fellow. He wears no ornament on the upper part of his arms, except the two large ivory rings. Although it was known that he would succeed King Làkono, and that the latter had called him his eldest son and successor, yet the Turks believed that he was some relation of the king’s, whom he had only brought with him to receive presents. I had, however, previously seen him with us, and remarked at that time that he kept back proudly when the others stepped forward for our gifts. But Làkono had only presented us with two oxen, and given us a verbal mandate to the republicans of the left shore; therefore, the Turks were discontented. Against all policy, the honour of a Turkish coronation-mantle was not conferred upon Tshobè, nor on the others who might have expected a dress. The prince took the miserable glass beads with a kind of indifference and contempt.
We gathered further intelligence about the country, and Làkono was complaisant enough to communicate to us some general information. With respect to the Nile sources, we learn that it requires a month, the signification of which was interpreted by thirty days, to come to the country of Anjan towards the south, where the Tubirih (Bah’r el Abiad) separates into four shallow arms, and the water only reaches up to the ankles. Thirty days seems indeed a long time, but the chain of mountains itself may present great impediments, and hostile tribes and the hospice stations may cause circuitous routes. These latter appear necessary, for the natives being already overladen with weapons and ornaments, it is impossible that they can carry provisions for so long a time, from the want of beasts of burden. There are said to be found very high mountains on this side, in comparison with which the ones now before us are nothing at all.