10th March. We remain to-day here for the sake of shooting, conformably to Suliman Kashef’s determination. His halberdiers set off to-night to follow the course of the giraffes, and to find out their abode in the gallas,—unfortunately without success, for they did not like perhaps to trust themselves so far in the territory of their deadly enemies.
I remarked a number of burnt bones of hippopotami in the low forest lying close to the river. I should be inclined to believe that the natives burn the carrion intentionally, in order not to be exposed to the disgusting effluvium. A species of black wasps build hanging-nests here, which however seem from their transparency to contain very little honey. I could not ascertain this more exactly, because I was obliged to be cautious in breaking off a branch with such nests on it. We remark low mountains beyond the softly ascending desert, and perhaps the dry water-courses which issue here from the steppe flow to them, and there may be the real abode of the deer. In my shooting excursion I looked carefully among the thorn-bushes, and found that the plants are mostly the same; I had fancied quite otherwise. A blue convolvulus—not, however, belonging to the water—displayed a lighter colour than usual, and had also round and glutinous leaves: I took seeds of some pretty creepers and gathered the fruits of the shrubs, for I was already acquainted with the leaves. Every thing now was withered, and I am curious to know what will become of the various seeds I have collected when they are sown in Europe.
Most of the birds had retreated before the shooting of the other sportsmen commenced, but I stumbled upon several turtle-doves, and instinctively grasped my gun, letting my botanical bundle fall on the ground. I shot some, and got under a tree, where I saw them fluttering around. The thorns stuck to me and pricked me all over, and there I sat bent, like an ostrich caught in a thorn bush, compared with which the bull-rush of Moses was a child. I could not force through it with my coat on and gun in my hand; so I got loose from the sharp barbs of the thorns with torn clothes, leaving behind the tarbusch, takie, and half my cowl, without even scratching my ears, though they were bleeding enough already. I fetched back my tarbusch by means of my gun, and then examined my malicious enemy a little closer, notwithstanding he was an old acquaintance. I found withered apples on it, and gathered some, for the sake of the seed; when green they are exceedingly similar to oranges or Egyptian lemons. I have not found it confirmed that they are deadly poison to camels.
11th March.—“Bauda mafish, am’d el Allàh!” (the latter properly Hamdl el Allàh,) was the cry on all sides to Allàh, because the gnats had taken their departure, and I hope that those which are still in my cabin will soon follow their companions. Departure at a quarter before ten to S.E. by E., then a little E. by S. Summer or pastoral villages on the left: we perceive also herds, but not a morsel of them is destined for us. On the right an old river-bed or narrow lake, mostly marshy, and connected below with the river. A quarter after ten, E.S.E., on a pretty good course, with the exception of some shallow inlets. We sail, with a south-west wind, four miles. On the left again open reed-huts or sleeping-places, and herds to which the people are collecting,—on account of the Turks. All the Haba here is deposited soil, which lies almost always higher than the other ground. This evidently fading forest once enjoyed better times, when the blessing of rain was afforded it, but the benefit of which it lost directly by its higher situation.
What fables are told of the incredible luxuriance of the tropical kingdom of plants! At all events it could only be said of aquatic plants which are forced by water, evaporation, and sunshine, as if by steam or chemical preparations; but then only in the rainy season and a few weeks beyond. I saw, indeed, trees shooting forth at this time in Taka, which boiling and cauldron-shaped valley may perhaps contain a tropical growth, or something like it; and plants springing up from the morass with incredible celerity and luxuriance, as if by magic. But trees that have true manly vigour, and strive to shoot out with sound strong muscles, whose pith is still clearly to be seen in the bark, with not a bough injured,—not a branch hanging down withered,—these are sought for in vain in the Tropics, so far as I have seen. We can form a tolerable idea of the momentary life and vigour there by comparing in Europe, acacias, planes, and poplars, on suitable soil; it is the most cheerful awakening after a long repose: but part of the limbs always continues in a sleep-like death, whether it be under the bark of the stem, or a bough that the sun scorches, or a runner become dry, which disfigures the whole tree. A forest requires care, either by the fortuitous kindness of Nature herself; or, when that is not sufficient, by the directing hand of man. The omnipotence of the terrestrial womb of fruits is past,—that which gave previously the magic of lovely green to the coming species, without any visible seeds of themselves. Half-past eleven o’clock, S.E.—It has just rained a little;—what anxiety and fear of rain these half-naked coloured people shew; what care they display in preparing immediately a tent to sit under! I have very often remarked this; rain must therefore make a sensible impression on their hot skin. Twelve o’clock, E.S.E. We see at the distance on the left towards the horizon, solitary dhellèbs as usual on elevated ground; and also isolated little groups of Shilluks. Narrow tracks of water right and left, which not long ago were flowing cheerfully. The river has also gradually laid aside its terraces in preceding times, until it has limited itself to its present bed; and those parts of the shore, lying higher are only just moistened, even when it is at its highest water-mark. It would be interesting to follow these old river-beds in the ascending line at the side, and to arrive at the dams of the primitive stream, or at the higher circumvallation which surrounded the lake here at one time. A quarter after one o’clock.—On the right a gohr cul-de-sac, low bushes to S.E., called by the very same name as the Haba; on the left solitary trees and straw huts of the herdsmen. At two—on the right, another gohr cul-de-sac,—to E. We sail E.N.E, and wind, for the first time since the morning, to the left: a track of water in the shape of a terrace, just there, from half a foot to a foot higher than our level. A beautiful line of dome-palms before us, but still thicker a little to the left. Half-past three, N.E.—Heaps of simsim-sheaves on the water at the left, and a row of ten villages near the dome-palms. A broad gohr or river comes from W. This may be the river of the Jengähs; but it seems to approach in the background too much to the Nile; perhaps therefore it is that gohr which is said to have its old river-bed on the high shores, below the villages of the Shilluks. A quarter before three, E. We see on the left seven more large and small villages, by or near that row of dome-palms, which on this side is very thin; then a dome-forest to the left at a quarter of an hour’s distance.
An unlimited water-course before us in E. by N., but no huts to be seen on the left. Therefore, the nation of the Nuèhrs might have been dislodged by the Shilluks from that quarter; for the former extend, or are said to extend, up to the Sobàt and its shores. This side, at all events, had been inhabited, as I plainly saw this morning at our landing-place. The Haba, however, continues at a slight distance from the river; on the left also the dome-forest is now reduced to a strip of a wood. The shores are surprisingly low on both sides; and therefore not any tokul-village is to be seen near them. A gohr is on the right, which is scarcely separated from the river, and in connection with it, like the other narrow ones. Three o’clock. On the left three more villages in the dome-forest tract; and on the right and left parrallel gohrs, subordinate Niles, which are now stagnant, and the fish in which are a prey to men and beasts. Four more villages to the left, near the dome-wood retreating from the river; on the right the forest thickens.
Half-past three. Towards S. We have a tolerably high and apparently planted island at our left, and halt at the right near a hill—probably a deserted domicile. But look there! that is really the far-famed Sobàt, the water of which is flowing against us, and which is so much feared by the crew, who are tired of the voyage. I soon disembarked on the shore, sauntered up the hill, and was surprised to find that I could see so far in the distance, and fed my eye and mind with a diorama which extended from W. to N.E. The Nile is conspicuous in the W., and meanders to N.E., where it is lost to the sight. An isolated dhellèb-palm on the right shore indicates this last boundary. The horizon behind this glittering length of the Nile is adorned with a transparent forest of dome-palms, interspersed with slender dhellèb palms, with their small heads. The basin of a lake spreads from W. to N.W., at my feet, and the river Sobàt winding downwards from S.E., and flowing in the depth at my right, unites with the Nile near the lake: both its shores are bare, and only a few melancholy straw tokuls stand on the extreme point of the right shore. All the remaining part of the district extends far and wide in a dead waste, with a little withered grass; and the horizon alone from S.S.W. to S.W., displays afar some palms and other trees, through which the blue sky glistens.
The lake lying in the angle between the left shore of the Sobàt and the right of the White Stream is connected with the former by a narrow opening, evidently prevented from closing by the hand of man. The mouth, as is the case elsewhere, is merely stopped up by reeds, to keep the fish of the lake in confinement. Our blacks shewed on this occasion what they do to catch fish when the water of these lakes is shallow, and does not reach up to a man’s middle. They disturb it with their feet, put fishing or conical baskets into it, and harpoon the large fish, who come to the top to breathe.
The Sobàt, swelling at high water far higher and stronger, has raised unquestionably a dam against this lake, the former river-bed of the White Stream, and pressed the Nile more towards N.W. into its present bed. Notwithstanding such an advantage being at hand, the natives have cut through the dam for the purpose of catching fish. The Sobàt has shortly before its mouth a hundred and thirty mètres in breadth and three fathoms in depth, whilst when we were here before it was four fathoms; and according to Selim Capitan, a few days earlier last year, five fathoms. We can tell but very little generally of the depth of the Nile, because its bed is very uneven, and the stream causes eternal fluctuations.
The name of Sobàt could only have been given to this river by the Funghs, for the Arabs have never possessed it, and usually call it Bach’r el Makàda (river of Habesch.) The Dinkas name the White Stream Kedi, and this Kiti, which mostly denotes water in the dialects on the White Stream up to Bari, where it is called Kirboli: Kir also means water among the tribes down the river. Its name is Tilfi and Tak with the Nuèhrs and Shilluks.