March 17. We have been ten hours on the road. Had it not been for the extreme heat, and my health being indifferent, I should have enjoyed my journey through this desert; for, although not picturesque, the abundance of acacias makes it extremely beautiful. We have passed several isolated hills; and on the sand yesterday, as well as to-day, I observed many of the round balls of iron-flint, or iron-glance, sometimes of a red, but generally of almost a black, colour. A distinguished mineralogist has informed me that they are common sand, agglutinated by oxide of iron, such as may be seen on Hampstead Heath, &c., rolled by water. They are similar to those observed during my first two or three days’ journey in the great Nubian desert.
March 18. After four hours’ ride I arrived at a range of mountains, the crust of which consists of quartz and decomposed granite; but the basis of most of the rocks in this quarter is sandstone. At a distance I fancied we were approaching a passage cut through the mountains; but on arriving it proved a deep recess in the rock, having the appearance of being worn by a torrent, and now forming a well, or rather cistern, almost entirely protected from the rays of the sun by a projecting rock. During the winter, and when the tropical rains extend so far north, the water is above five times its present depth, which is only eight feet. It is now green, and disagreeable to the taste; but, fortunately, my stock of Nile water is not finished, as I must confess I should not have relished to quench my thirst, under a burning sun, with this beverage. My satisfaction was the greater when I observed that my camel-drivers, when they had filled their water-skins, bathed and washed themselves in the pool; doubtless the usual custom of the caravans. We expected to find flocks here, and procure an additional supply of meat. My artist being extremely unwell, and wishing for soup, I gave a backsheesh of ten piastres to one of the camel-men, who mounted an unloaded dromedary, and went out of the road, towards the west, to a source of water, where he said there were Arabs of the tribe of the Hassanyeh: he joined us after three hours, having succeeded in purchasing a goat for five, and an excellent gazelle for two, piastres. We have seen numerous herds, of five or six each, of the latter, but have never been able to approach within shot of them. At a short distance from hence, they tell me that there are antelopes (Arabic, buggera el Atmoor). It is singular that, on this side of the river, ferocious animals are rare. There are some few hyenas, but the panthers and lions seem confined chiefly to the Island of Meroe.
This reservoir of water, called Gagdool, is out of the direct road; we went from it due west for a short time, and then resumed our course towards the north-west. I should have made a drawing of these rocks, but I was really so unwell that I felt unequal to the exertion. At noon we reposed for a short time under our tent. There are abundance of acacias, but they afford little shade; whence the Arab proverb, “The friendship of man is like the shade of the acacia.” At Shendy I bought a splendid greyhound dog; perhaps of a larger species than ours, stronger, and with more bone, but showing much breeding. I was surprised to find the true race of greyhound dog in the centre of Africa; but, in fact, there is a representation of it on the walls of a tomb at Thebes, forming part of magnificent offerings received from Ethiopia. (See [Plate XLVI.]) I should have been glad to have brought him to England, but he died in consequence of the heat, added to his fatigue in following the camel, and perhaps not having sufficient water, although I spared him as much as I could out of my own individual stock[24], in order that I might save him. I placed him on the back of a camel; but he would not remain.
March 19. Nine hours this day. We arrived at eleven at a well, in a valley at the commencement of a range of granite rocks of the usual round formation by which they are always known: quartz nodules were scattered in the valley. The water of this well is the best we have tasted since we left the Nile, yet not what I should like to drink. The Arabs say that we shall arrive at a better to-morrow. The source is called Magaga. We encamped earlier than usual this evening, my artist being unable to go any farther. Last night he had a severe attack of bilious fever. Calomel is the best remedy for that complaint in this climate. I gave him a dose of six grains, and this morning he was wonderfully better, but the fatigue and heat of the day have brought on a relapse. He wants spirit to assist in throwing off the disease, is afraid of dying in the desert, and thinks it impossible he shall live to see the Nile again. He fancies that without plenty of sustenance he cannot exist; and therefore forces his appetite, instead of living abstemiously, as he ought. I have given him six grains more this evening, but have found great difficulty in inducing him to take them, although he is sensible of the benefit he derived from the others. I am exceedingly anxious about the effect of the medicine, from the responsibility I feel in having brought him into the deserts. His reproaches on the subject are harassing, although unjust; for he was engaged under the condition of making this journey.
March 20. My artist was exceedingly ill the early part of last night, but at last he fell into a profuse perspiration, after which he dropped asleep, and awoke this morning quite relieved. He allows a certain merit to the pills, but much more to his having vowed to present wax candles to the Madonna on his return to Italy: he has made other promises of the same kind for deliverance from various dangers. An hour after starting this morning, we arrived at a well called Haless, situated, like the one we passed yesterday, in a valley. The water is most delicious, quite equal to that of the Nile. We emptied all our geerbahs of the water they contained, which, from the extreme heat, had become black and bad, and filled them from this delicious fountain. I never enjoyed any luxury so much as this cold, clear, fresh draught.
We encamped after nine hours’ ride. Although the scenery is not sufficiently bold to be termed picturesque, it is impossible to conceive a more beautiful desert; valleys and rocks with mountains, whose forms are varied, broken, sometimes conical, but never monotonous. The low grounds are covered with sweet-smelling acacias. The herbage has certainly, at this season, a very burnt appearance; but had there been a greensward, instead of these yellow sands and this long discoloured grass, few spots would be more lovely than the Desert of Bahiouda.
March 21. We rode ten hours to-day. The plains are rather more extensive, but still beautiful. We met, this morning, shepherd boys with geerbahs on their arms, containing their provision of water, and they had a few loaves of dourah bread tied in their garment. In this way they conduct their flocks to the pasturages distant from the well, and return when their stock of provision is consumed. I observed, several times, this morning, traces of torrents. The mountains in this desert are generally of grey and pink-coloured granite, often of the description called syenite; many are of sandstone, hornblende, and conglomerates; while others are of decomposed granite and decomposed felspar. At eleven o’clock we passed a well of good water called Hennek, now forty feet deep and proportionally wide. There are no traces of its being recently excavated, nor any thing to mark it as ancient, but it is too great an undertaking for the Arabs of the present age to have accomplished. We are encamped near another source of rain water, called Prasoli. There are about twenty houses or sheds scattered around, inhabited by peasants and their flocks. We have met two caravans of merchants from Dongolah. The manner the Shageea salute, leaning their right arms over the breasts and shoulders of each other, has a very dignified and noble appearance, and is quite in harmony with that frank sincerity and honest affection, which characterise the Arabs of the desert.
March 22. We set out, as usual, at seven, and, at twelve o’clock of the eighth day from Metammah, arrived again at the river. A short distance from the Nile, in a wild solitary situation, we passed some fine ruins of a large Coptic church. It is built of stone covered with cement. There are several windows, and naves in the interior. There are also several doors, and over them the Maltese cross. At the top of the building are remains of an Egyptian cornice and beading, but the plan of the interior is evidently that of a church. It was built, probably, of the materials of a temple, of which the peasants inform me that the traces were recently visible, but are now entirely buried by the encroaching sands of the desert. I went to the place where it was said to have existed, but could find no vestiges of it. We were detained some time on the south side of the Nile, but, after firing repeatedly, a boat came over for us.
Immediately on arriving at the town of Meroueh, I paid a visit to the katshef who has the command of this district. I found him very anxious to be of service to us; and his assistance was most useful in enabling me to procure a fresh supply of bread; a thing difficult to be had in a country where very little of any grain except dourah is either raised or eaten. I was fortunate in obtaining as much rice as I was in need of from the soldiers, who were very willing to sell their rations. Our sugar and tea is consumed: the latter, of course, is not to be procured in such a region as this. In this village, or rather little capital of the province of Dar Shageea, and in the country around, we could only find one loaf of sugar, which was black, and the owner made me pay ten times its value.
We left the camels, which brought us across the desert, on the other side of the river: we, therefore, cannot go on to Gibel el Birkel this evening, since no other camels can be found to carry the luggage. As the distance is more than an hour’s walk, I have not time to go and return before dark, and am therefore obliged to restrain my curiosity until to-morrow.