CHAPTER I.
SLEEPING TOKULS OR BARNS. — CRUELTY AND LICENTIOUSNESS OF THE TURKS. — ARNAUD AND SELIM CAPITAN’S FEAR OF THE NATIVES. — NEGROES SHOT BY THE TURKS. — CONDUCT OF THE NATIVES. — RED MEN. — ARNAUD’S MADNESS. — FEAR OF THE NEGROES AT FIRE-ARMS. — VISIT OF A CHIEF AND HIS SON. — TOBACCO AND SHEEP. — MOUNT KOREK. — NATION OF BARI. — VISIT OF THE BROTHER AND SON-IN-LAW OF THE KING. — CHAIN OF MOUNTAINS.
20th January.—The vessels were towed further to the southward by the Libàhn, whilst the commanders, and we Franks with them, walked on the magnificent shore. The wind, with which, however, we had previously sailed, although not quicker than the pace we walked at on shore, freshened at ten o’clock, and we repaired again on board the vessels. I had made a real forced march, and was at last compelled to be carried, owing to increasing weakness. Little villages and isolated tokuls stood in the beautiful woody country, which is interspersed with solitary light spaces or corn-fields, where, however, the short fine grass was withered. These tokuls are elevated above the ground on stakes, and serve to protect the fruits, or as sleeping-places for security against noxious animals or the temporary damp of the soil. The natives dance, sing, and jump, slide on their knees, sell or exchange their god (glass beads—Arabic, sug-sug), amongst one another, and squat, but not by sitting upright in the Turkish manner, and smoke their pipes. These pipes have prettily-worked black clay bowls, with a tube of reeds, and a long iron mouthpiece: even the tongs, to apply the charcoal to light them, are not wanting. They are cheated in the most shameful manner by the Turco-Arabian people; robbed of their weapons, and plundered right and left. What am I to do? I am ill, and have lost my voice; yet I try to prevent these outrages as far as I am able.
The so-called elephant-tree prevails here exclusively; and one of the chief amusements this morning was to shoot down its fruit, in which exploit Suliman Kashef distinguished himself as the best shot. The shady trees, the prospect on the river, enlivened by the glittering sails, the blue chain of mountains—it was a sight that did me good, and refreshed my inmost soul. But all this was again clouded by Turks. Is there another word for Turks? No: Turks,—basta! A negro, who came from the other side to swim over to us, got into the track of the sailing vessels, and was drowned, although he might have been easily picked up by two ships following us. The commanders had gone on a-head, and I was behind with the Frenchmen; I was not able to call, and therefore fired off my gun, in order, by signs, to induce them to save him. Arnaud also, whose vessel was just bearing up, might have easily prevented the death of the unfortunate creature if he had given a hail to his reïs. He even blamed my impatience, saying I was ill; and added, with the contemptuous tone, in which the Arab pronounces his “Abit,” and the Turk his “kiàfr,” “Why do the fellows swim about in the water?” Upon this I could not forbear using hard words.
An Egyptian soldier, who, like some others of the libàhn, had remained behind on shore to ransack the deserted tokuls, ran behind a young naked girl, when I fortunately noticed the circumstance in our walk. I hastened to Suliman Kashef, who was gallant enough to recall, with a voice of command, the libertine from this his wicked purpose.
The Turkish character involuntarily shews itself on such occasions as these; it goes against his grain to see an inferior enjoying any pleasure. There was no merit, therefore, in Suliman’s conduct, even had he warded off from us a Sicilian vespers. Thibaut had had also a similar incident on board his vessel with the reïs, who wanted to be too free with a young girl whom the former, during this voyage, had purchased for a few glass beads,—I believe from the Keks. This incident was also announced in due form by us; but they laughed, and said, “Badèn” (afterwards), and Arnaud even joined in this opinion.
At a quarter past ten o’clock, the north wind has completely died away, and we tack about towards the west for a short tract, when it becomes again so fresh, whilst the wind is S.W., that we are able to sail slowly. To all appearance, unfortunately, our vaunted voyage of discovery will soon have an end. Selim-Capitan is frightened to a ludicrous degree; Arnaud cannot conceal his fear; and Suliman Kashef, not being yet restored to health, is utterly indifferent. I cannot refrain from considering an instant return as a disgrace and as treachery both to the world and Mohammed Ali. On the right an island, and the last of those two which we had on our left still continues, and so we are somewhat free from the noise of the people on the shore. Sale and Sate Mohammed are no longer seen on land; they have perhaps become the victims of their passions, although they were only to shoot for me a pair of turtle-doves.
We halt, for a time, on the left shore, where there is a large village, partly scattered in the wood that skirts the river so beautifully. At eleven o’clock we set out again, and our men drive back the cattle from the island close to us, through the water to the right shore, for their unfathomable throats appear at last to be satiated. The clapping of hands, keeping time to the singing, above which the “kih, kih” of the women is heard, accompanies us from both sides. We cannot hear or see anything for the crowd and clatter, especially myself, round whom all the beautiful world floats as in a mist, and a jarring din sings in my ears, so that my writing, inexorably necessary as it is, becomes exceedingly difficult. I dared not close my eyes for fear of becoming completely confused. I wanted to go to Selim Capitan, or rather to his interpreter, but was not able to put the requisite questions and to note down the answers. I continue to write mechanically, and cannot square my own journal, when I try to revise the entries of the last few days; for everything flickers before my eyes, and my memory is gone, so that it all appears to me like a dream.
With a light north-east wind, which also assisted us yesterday, we proceed S.S.W. It is noon, and we have two islands, lying close to each other, on our left. A large island ends on our right, and another one begins, by which the course in the middle of the river is, in some degree, confined. Nevertheless, the river always retains a considerable breadth, and a proper depth; and then,—will the poltroons return? The mountain, already several times mentioned, peeps into the window from the west; it shews itself as two mountains lying one close to the other, the western of which rises conically, and has an obtuse peak, and an undulating tail to the west. The latter appears somewhat wooded, yet these masses giving light and shade may be mostly blocks; the conically ascending mountain, on the contrary, has a smooth surface, and may be an extinguished volcano, although one would not expect to find such here. We now find, for the first time, stones in the river, and they are granite and gneiss. They are not yet rounded; the chain of mountains from whence they come cannot, therefore, be very far distant. We proceed S.S.W. An island terminates on the left, and another follows at the distance of some hundred paces.