The winter-tokuls, or women’s huts, appear from the river far higher than they really are, for they mostly stand on the slightly elevated margin of the shore. After repeatedly measuring them, I find that they are from eight to eleven feet high, including the lower walls, which are always from three to three feet and a half. The roof is in from five to nine uniform grooves, for the straw is not sufficient for the length of the roof. The small tokuls of the pastoral villages are, on the average, from six to seven feet high, including their walls, which are four feet, or something more; those of the sleeping-places are as high as the reeds themselves, namely, about ten feet. To the great diversion of the crew, a young woman here also wanted to drive us to the right side, because our vessel lay at anchor before her harìm.
I watched a friendly-looking woman making a burma (or cooking apparatus), and putting the finishing stroke to it: she rounded the outside of the earthen pot with water, and to get the little hoops on it, she had a thick, strongly-twisted piece of packthread, of a span in length, which she rolled over the smoothed places. As far as I could learn from her, these vessels are made merely by hand, although it might be supposed, from the beautiful large vessels of the Shilluks, that a potter’s wheel was used. The people here display as little friendly feeling towards us as those yesterday. I manage to get, however, a thick fluted hassaia of ebony, besides some small elephants’ teeth.
Ten o’clock. At last a miserable cow was presented to us, and we proceed W.N.W., a quarter of an hour later, S.W., although only for a very short tract, and immediately N.N.W. We continue to have on the left, green reeds in the water; and the shore on the right is scarcely two feet high.
Eleven o’clock. From N.W. to N.; in half an hour from S.E. and N.E., with a short bend in W.N.W. to S.S.W.; then on the right a short tract N.E. by N., and again N.N.W. The shores are scarcely elevated above the river, and therefore numerous lakes must be formed. I remarked, yesterday, crown-rushes (papyrus antiquorum), which were still green, as well as ambak-thickets, seeds of which plant I took this morning; its leaves were already brown, and the tree itself in a dying state: there were not any young shoots from the roots to be seen, nor from the seed that had fallen in the preceding year; the latter lies therefore a year, and perhaps till the next rainy season, in the ground, and then during the time of high water, springs up with incredible vigour to that height, which, upon this slightly elevated ground, was only twenty feet; but in our ascent I remarked it double that height on a low island in the river. Twelve o’clock. From N., to the left N.W. On the right a pastoral village, and immediately right to N. in a bend. The river is narrow, for the grass has grown into it.
“Baùda, baùda!” the crew screamed the day before yesterday,—a dreadful word, in truth. Hitherto we have only seen a few of these horrible mosquitoes, but in their stead a quantity of other stinging insects. From N. immediately to the left, W.N.W. and a short tract N.W. by N. The north wind has been long contrary to us, but has not been particularly prejudicial to our voyage. Half-past twelve—From N.W. to W.N.W. and W; for a moment N., and in a short bend to S.S.W., where it winds to W. One o’clock.—About N.; a broad arm of the Nile flows to W. We halt for a moment here by the island. About S.E. by S., the mouth of another gohr going from E. is seen; it discharges itself partly into the main stream to W., and partly flows to S.W., and forms another island. The careless sailors have allowed the vessels to be thrown into this arm of the Nile, and are now working to come to the W. into the main river.
Half-past one. From W.N.W. left to S. Little ambak-woods on all sides, but not having their fresh verdure; also crown-rushes, seeds of which I have not yet been able to procure. A quarter before two. From S. and S.W. to the right, shortly round to N.N.W. and on to N.E. Two. From N.E. to the left round to N.N.W., then to the right a few paces to N. A quarter after two. From N. and N. by E.: on the right some negroes, who remain in a very quiet posture; to the left W.N.W. Half-past two. W. by S., where we have a tolerably long road before us, then W.S.W.; on the right a small summer village. A quarter of an hour later N.E. by E. and N., and so in a bend further to N.E. Three o’clock. From N.N.E. to N.N.W.; the low shores or young water-reeds and ambak thickets still continue. We see even now several reed-fires, but the people appear, since our absence, to have burned the reeds very well, for a quantity of green grass is seen sprouting up from the scorched soil. On again in a long bend to W.S.W.; on the right a pastoral village with little tokuls, having roofs more pointed; on the left also a similar one; then at four o’clock, opposite the bend in N.W. at a little distance, a large lake, and behind it the Haba. The natives sing a little, but remain quietly sitting. A quarter after four, from N.N.W. to the left towards W., then with a short bend to the right N.N.E.; at this sharp corner a small pastoral village, near which we halt at the right shore. About south from our landing-place a large lake, where the river winds from N. to N.N.W. on the left shore immediately behind the green reeds. The natives have all fled except one, who remains close to us; probably the fame of our love for slaves has preceded us. Thermometer, before sunrise 20°; noon and afternoon 28° to 30°; sunset 28°; eight o’clock 26°.
22nd February.—We have waited since yesterday evening in vain for Selim Capitan and Arnaud, who have struck into another arm of the river. At nine o’clock this morning we see their mast at a distance: they came up and we started at ten o’clock from hence, where a large summer village is in the course of erection. We row strenuously, for the north wind is contrary. From N. to. N.N.E., and at half-past ten to N. and N.N.E., and immediately to W.N.W. A quarter before eleven E.N.E., and immediately N.N.W. Feïzulla Capitan had epileptic attacks to-night again, perhaps arising from the tension of the nerves of his fingers, for he has fabricated a tow-rope for Suliman Kashef, and worked at it till late at night, as he has done previously when engaged in sewing.
Eleven o’clock. From N.N.W. to N.N.E.; an arm of the Nile flows in on the right—the very same one navigated by Selim Capitan and Arnaud. To the right a pastoral village on the head-land; we put into land near it. Two o’clock; we leave the place, for the natives will not approach us. From N.N.W. immediately to N.N.E., and a quarter of an hour later with a short curve to N.W. The negroes here wear only narrow ivory rings. From N.W. to N.N.W., and at half-past two, from N. in N.E. by E., to E. by N. The shores are either a green margin of grass, encroaching on the water, or if they be dry, about two feet high, and behind them are ambak-thickets, or crown-rushes, striking leaves, or dying away, according as they are in low or high ground. Three o’clock; further on in the bend to W.S.W., and again round the right to W. and N.W. by W. There is not a man, house, hut, or cattle in these marshy regions, from which I myself shall only be too glad to escape. A quarter after three o’clock, N.N.W.; to the right a pastoral village: we really see human beings, but they appear very listless, and even the women remain quietly standing amongst them. Opposite, another village; also negroes, but no herds. Half-past three, N.; on the right a pastoral village. We proceed slowly N. by S., and N. by W., yet generally N.; and a quarter before four, N.N.E. Here and there still there are floating islands; with a short bend N.W., and N.W. by W. to W.N.W. On the right a lake; and at four o’clock in a gentle bend to N.N.W., then round a corner, N.N.E., and E. by S. but immediately again W.N.W. to S. by W. Half-past four, W.S.W; on the right a pastoral village smoking vigorously, yet we do not see any herds. A quarter before five, from S. by W., shortly round N.N.W. to N., and to the left in N.W. At five o’clock again to the right, N.N.W.; on the left hand a pastoral village, from N.E., immediately N.N.E., N., and N.W.; in a bend further on to S.S.W. Half-past five, from S.S.W. in W., W.S.W., where a small pastoral village appears on the right, to N.W.
For some days we have been without fowls and sheep on our vessels, and we shall not, perhaps, procure any meat till we arrive at the so-called, “Cannon place,” where the eighteen Nubas of Darfur sought their way to freedom with only six guns. A quarter before six o’clock from N.W., shortly round to W., and in a bend to S. and S.E. by S. Six, S., and immediately in W.N.W to N., from whence we navigate to the left round a corner. After six o’clock, in a bend to S., and here again round a neck of land immediately to N. Some trees, harbingers of a finer country, have shewn themselves just now. A large lake secluded by palings, and perhaps, therefore, subsequently furnishing the natives with fish, is noticed at about fifty paces up the right shore. Here we make for land. Thermometer, before sunrise 17°, noon 29 to 30°.
23rd February.—We navigated this morning to the left shore, whereon there is a scanty Haba, in order to fetch wood and make observations. I walked to the neighbouring Haba, where I saw men in nine fishing-boats, catching fish. The lake is from forty to fifty paces in the low ground, where it stands on an equal level with the Nile, and enclosed with ambak hedges, from W. to S.E. It is a remnant of the primitive bed of the stream, perhaps itself a river-bed lately deserted, and surrounded on one side by the old shores of the Haba, which are here only five to six feet above the water, and form also the ancient left shore. From what I could see, it is about three to three and a half hours’ long, by two hundred to three hundred paces broad. It seems to derive its water from the river, and to fill with the latter, but also to supply a mass of water to it in the rainy season. It winds to S.S.E. and appears to go still further eastward.