When I view the steep and high slope of the shores of the Sobàt, and the proportionate thin layer of earth on the immovable strata of clay or original soil, which here is twenty to twenty-five feet higher than on the shore or in the bed of the Nile, I return to my former conviction, that the immeasurable particles of stone and plants stream by means of the breach, and flowing away of the lakes of the Ethiopian highlands, to the lake of the basin-shaped valley of the White Stream which flows off with the Nile, as the deepest point; and that all the lower country under the mountain chains of Fàzogl and Habesch, from the Atbara to the land of Bari must be under water, if it be not a lake connected with the depressed regions of the White Stream. If the lakes, therefore, of that lofty plain were torn by a powerful catastrophe, and deserted their chasms or valleys, as the water-basins of Switzerland did formerly—(even now there are lakes or flat valleys, signs of a deluge, in which the waters might have dashed from the summit of Atlas to the top of the Alps)—there is no question that the lower lakes or valleys must have filled and overflowed. The first rushing-down of the mass of waves, incredibly violent as it must have been, the falling of mountains accompanying it, and their washing-away, overpowered everything below them, as if gods had descended from Olympus, and no longer recognized those limits that would have remained eternal obstacles by an inferior shock. The first deposit was a layer of clay on the side of the Sobat, whilst the White Stream suffered no such sediment when in its primitive strength, and washed away everything that it could seize, as is shewn by the far lower shores. The high shores of the Sobàt and its environs fall away, especially towards the level parts of the left side of the Nile, to which the accumulated slime could still less arrive owing to the stream carrying it off, although several gohrs and rivers from thence pour into it. These afford water certainly, but no slime to increase the height of the shore, as we plainly see by the Gazelle River, and also in the little Kiti of the Jengähs called Njin-Njin. We must assume from the Dinka country and its greater elevation, that the ground towards the Nile was heightened formerly by its gohrs flowing from above, or perhaps constant rivers; whilst Kordofàn, which lies over the left shore of the Nile, discharges no rivers, and its oases have run down from the mountains themselves, and formed islands in the sands which still remain, for the sunken ground forms cisterns that nourish the succulent power of the mountains by imbibing the moist element; or it may be, that springs were bored by God’s own hand.
CHAPTER IX.
ROYAL CRANES. — SCRUPLES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — COMPOSITION OF THE SHORES. — DESCRIPTION OF THE DHELLÈB—PALM AND ITS FRUIT. — FORM OF EGYPTIAN PILLARS DERIVED FROM THIS TREE. — DIFFERENCE BETWEEN EGYPTIAN AND GREEK ARCHITECTURE. — DESCRIPTION OF THE SUNT-TREE. — DEATH OF AN ARABIAN SOLDIER. — VISIT OF A MEK OR CHIEF. — DANGEROUS RENCONTRE WITH A LION ON SHORE. — PURSUIT OF THIS BEAST BY THE AUTHOR AND SULIMAN KASHEF WITH HIS MEN. — FEAR OF THE NATIVES AT THE TURKS. — PLUNDER OF THEIR TOKULS BY THE CREW. — BREAD-CORN OF THE DINKAS. — ANTELOPE HUNT. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF THESE ANIMALS. — IMMENSE HERDS ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE NILE. — LIONS AGAIN. — BAD CONDITION OF THE VESSELS.
12th March.—We set out at half-past nine o’clock, and sail to S.E. by E. Shrubs on the higher shore to the right. A quarter before ten, from S.E. by E.; further to the left round a corner, to which a bend corresponds on the opposite shore: this is often the case on the Nile. To E.N.E., and immediately again with a short tract to N.E. The river flows with all its force against the left shore, and therefore the latter is higher, more perpendicular, and disrupt, than the right, which soon, however, becomes similar. We go a short tract libàhn, and see a few miserable small straw tokuls with thin doors, on the left, in the little green underwood, which seems to be nourished by the inundation, and is mostly young döbker.
The shores display again iron oxyde. A quarter before eleven: from E. by N., to the right, E.S.E., where we sail. The shores on the right and left are higher, according to the current, and the falling of the river is accurately marked out on the shore by little gradations, which are exceedingly regular, and one to two inches high. We crawl on only slowly with the faint south wind, and make now one mile; for the current being stagnant below towards the Nile, told me directly that the floating companion of the mountain dissipates quickly its water, differently from the slow, crawling Nile, which is obliged to work through the plain of a lake-basin.
Eleven o’clock. The wind freshens, and we go S.E. and E.S.E. On the left a solitary dhellèb-palm rises on the shore, with its beautiful and really symmetrical head; its slender base without rings, and its elegant foliage. From hence in the bend, further to the right, in S., where five dhellèb-palms break the uniformity of the high shore on the left. A low ridge of a hill lies near them, on which a village must have once stood. If I could but transplant the tallest dhellèb to Louisa’s island, near Berlin, to make it the common property of all the northern nations! It is hot, for the high shores keep the refreshing breeze from the deep water, and only the sail enjoys a cheerful gust of wind, with the assistance of which we go, at a quarter before twelve, from S.W., where a regular forest before us presents itself to the eye, to the left, in S.W. by S. We make two miles; a quarter of a mile, perhaps, being derived from the current. A quarter after twelve, from S.W., to the left, E. by N. We hardly move from the place till it blows from N.E., and then we go better, having four miles’ course. An old sailor runs on shore close by the vessel, to find crocodiles’ eggs; tumbles into holes, falls in the grass, and is using every exertion to find a convenient sand-path instead of the clay. The crew call him to come off, but he wants to shew that he is a nimble fellow—thus every one has his hobby-horse.
The river winds continually in a bend to the left: a wretched stunted forest on the right, and miserable tokuls, without people, here and there on this shore. One o’clock; from E. by N., where the river winds again to the right, S.E. by S. We halt at a quarter before two, at the right shore, yet not to let the men rest; that would be against the Turkish custom, for they think there are no human beings except themselves. At three o’clock we go with libàhn to S.E., and immediately to the left E. Half-past three, in a bend to the right, S.S.E.; and four o’clock, on the left, in the bend, to E.S.E. Five o’clock, from E.N.E., on the right to E., where we stop at the right shore.
Last night I awoke up several times, and the wild geese on the neighbouring lake, seemed to call to me in a friendly manner, and scream “Here we are, for you have not had for a long time either sheep, goats, or fowls.” I was on the wing therefore at day-break, but saw only four royal cranes (grus royal, Arabic gornu, or chornu), one of whom I shot, for they are very delicious when dressed in a ragout. Feïzulla, although he has been seven years in England, drinks drams and wine like a Turk, and scruples to dine with me, because I had not cut the bird’s throat immediately after it was shot, whilst it was yet alive, and made it debièg (koscher, as the Jews say). These beautiful birds, with a tuft of golden hair and shining feathers, appear in flocks on the White River: my Sale killed a brace in a moment, and would have brought us more if he could have followed them. The geese would only surrender at discretion to the “longue carabine,” and I had only my short double-barrel.
I visited once more, on this occasion, the hill above-mentioned, which I found quite adapted for the situation of a village. I had seen already the remains of potters’ ware, and solitary flower-gardens, or plots of ground trodden down, where once tokuls stood, but where now neither grass nor shrubs could grow; and I came to the conclusion that a considerable village must have stood there, which could have belonged only to the Nuèhrs, and was probably destroyed by the Shilluks. Thermometer, sunrise, 21°; half-past nine o’clock, 28°; noon, 29°; no rise beyond that was perceptible afterwards.