Half-past seven o’clock. N.N.W., and with a short course to E.N.E, where, on the left, a pastoral village lies behind the shore; then we turn sharply to N.W., where, on the left, another pastoral village appears; at this we wind to N.N.W. We have a gentle south-east wind, and are afraid of rain.
Eight o’clock. From N.N.W. to N.W., by N. Some tokuls, with more elevated tops, shew themselves on the right side, where the river immediately goes to the right; and at the same moment a row of tokuls of similar construction is discovered on the left, stretching in a falcated form along the shore. The old tokuls have grooved roofs, reed-walls from which the clay has fallen, oval doors, and some of them with miserable reed-porches, and no sleeping-places. A pastoral village follows, belonging, perhaps, to this winter or women’s village. The Elliàbs inhabit both these villages; but few of them shew themselves, and are called Wièn.
Half-past eight o’clock. From N.N.W. to N.N.E., and N. by W. Below, a large village opens before us, which the vessels a-head leave to the left. The island, which is merely young grass, floating on the river, only rises gently above the stream. A quarter before nine o’clock. At some distance from the right shore we see from the deck a large pastoral village. Nine o’clock. W.N.W. The forest previously remarked has not approached nearer to us. A quarter after nine, from S.S.W. to S.E., where the wind, for a short space, is contrary to us; then, on the right, to S.S.W.; but first we see two villages lying somewhat up the country on the right side. We go E.N.E.
The south-east wind has freshened splendidly, and the log gives five miles. The shores, although very low, are arid, and without cultivation. Right and left are lakes, and near to the one on the left a large village. Half-past nine o’clock; from E.N.E., a moment to W.N.W.; on the point to the right, where the river bends N.W. by W., an old tokul-village; on the left a lake, of half an hour long, which is an ancient river-bed, as perhaps most of them are; therefore the low shores divide them from us. A new forest before us, to which we perhaps shall come. W. by N.: on the left a wretched hamlet with mud-tokuls; but immediately afterwards a long row of regular tokuls, whilst below a broad gohr enters the land about N.N.W., which makes, therefore, these huts an island-city. The people shout and bawl to us, as if we were old acquaintances: the ambak-trees are used here for pallisadoes and screens. But few people are seen, and these only old men and women. The island and village are both called Aquàk, and this is the last possession of the Bunduriàls. On the right shore the Tutuies follow, and the Keks on the left. About ten o’clock we stop below this city of the Bunduriàls. In the middle of the river a small island lies; level low country, with narrow pools, and behind it the Haba lie opposite to us, about half an hour distant. I despatch two servants to the village, to make some purchases, but the women seize large pieces of ambak-wood, and will not allow them to enter their harìm city.
Half-past twelve o’clock, off again to N.E., and immediately on the right to E., where the violent east wind throws us, for amusement, on the left shore. One o’clock, N.W., then soon E.N.E., and a quarter before two, in the bend N.E. and N.N.W. From the deck, we perceive two villages on both sides. Two o’clock, N. by E., in the bend further to N.N.E.; on the left a pastoral village, then to the left N.W. How it delights my heart to think that the favourable south-east wind brings me every moment nearer to Khartùm—to my brother! Half-past two, N. and N.W. by N.: a pastoral village at the left; a quarter before three, N. by N.E., and round the left to N.W. Three tokul villages in the country to the left. Three o’clock, W.; on the left shore a pastoral village; before us, in the distance, a forest. From the deck, I see behind the last-named village another pastoral one. A quarter after three o’clock, with a short bend to N.N.W., where a black tokul village, behind the shadow of heavy clouds, looks like an old castle with several pinnacles, until the latter disappear, and a row of forty-five tokuls is formed. A small gohr enters below to N.N.W., which, as seen from the deck, widens, and has a tokul-village in its neighbourhood. Another little gohr to the left, from N. to N.E., connected with the preceding one, leads probably to a lake, for the left shore hardly rises above the river. The right and blackened shore is also scarcely four feet high. A quarter before four o’clock, from N.W., in a bend along reeds standing in water, which, being slightly rustled by the south-east wind, strike leaves and sprout, such as I have not seen for a long time: to N. where a long shining road extends before us. On the right two islets, verdant like the new-born low country of the right shore; another larger island joins the second for a few paces, and a fresh one is united to it close to the shore, which appears here again to be scorched. On the left some other green bushes of reeds are standing, and behind them, we perceive from the deck a tokul-village. Four o’clock; from N.W. to W. by N.; on the left a pastoral village, and then N.N.W. The forest, about an hour distant from the left shore, where a pastoral hamlet stands, stretches from S. to W. To my joy, young reeds extend from the right corner, in a long bend with the river to N.E.
Half-past four o’clock, again in a long bend from N.E. to N.N.E., N. and N.W to W.S.W., where we stop at five o’clock at the right shore. A large lake lies at our side; behind it, another one is incredibly enlivened by millions of birds, amongst which there are several pelicans. I have never heard such a noise and fluttering of flying birds, as I did here when on a shooting excursion. Thermometer, before sunrise, 20°; noon, 27°; three o’clock, 29°; eight o’clock in the evening, 24°.
19th February.—We navigate, at seven o’clock, from N. on the right, to N.E., and have soon to contend with a contrary north wind. On the left we remark two of the narrow gohrs or natural canals, serving, at high water, as channels to the lakes, from which they are now disconnected. On the right, as yesterday at noon, Tutuies; on the left, Kèks. A quarter before eight o’clock. From N. to E. Here and there we see the negroes holding a stick, covered with a skin of long hair, which appears to be a battle-standard; they carry it always erect when they return from war.
Eight o’clock. N.W. On the left a long tokul-village of the Kèks, with ambak-hedges, instead of the solitary little court-yards of the houses; the sleeping-places open above, and plastered below. We no longer perceive magazines erected on stakes: the people here never seem to think of the morrow. On all sides uncultivated soil, and that has been the case for some time. Nature must provide the necessary bread-corn and other fruits, without any exertion of men, or the people must live principally on the produce of the chase, and fishing.
Half-past eight o’clock. From N.W., with a short bend to S.E., yet only for a few paces; then again right round to N.N.W. We do not remark that the water has fallen; it seems to be in its usual shallow state. Young grass in the water at all the corners of the river or shores, and also to the right of our bend. The marsh-regions, with their noxious moisture and numerous glow-worms, are close to us. Yesterday evening, the hollow sound of the drum foreboded their approach.
Nine o’clock. To N.N.W. On the left a Haba, a quarter of an hour distant. A quarter after nine o’clock. N.E.; and immediately we double a flat green corner in the bend to S.W., and a very short tract S., where there is a narrow pass. Half-past nine o’clock. N.E. On the left a wretched hamlet, and a large lake in its neighbourhood, with numerous birds, separated only a few paces from us. Ten o’clock, N.; and to the left, round a green half-moon, to W.S.W. Half-past ten o’clock. Again round a verdant margin of the shore to the right, N.W. A quarter of an hour later we halt about N.E.; and I accept Suliman Kashef’s invitation to dinner. To my joy he talks a good deal of my brother. The Kèks have brought some more teeth; but not one fell to my lot, in spite of all my endeavours. About half-past one o’clock, we bear off again to N. and N.E. The Elliàbs possess here also a tract, and likewise the Kèks; the Tutuis dwell more up the country. Half-past one o’clock, W.S.W.; then shortly S.W., and a quarter before two, to W., where the Haba below seems to be close to the shore, and on the left side it is scarcely half an hour distant; on the right a pastoral village.