Feb. 6. I heard this morning, with surprise, that I should probably have to wait a week longer before procuring camels. Knowing the Turks to be adepts at procrastination, I went to the Nazr, and urged the necessity of my starting immediately. At my request, he sent for the Sheakh of the Ababdes, the tribe who provide camels to caravans and travellers for the journey between Assuan and Makkarif, the capital of Berber. They act also as carriers to the Red Sea, the Oasis Magna, along the Nile to Dongolah, and also across the western side of the great Nubian desert. The residence of the Sheakh being two hours distant, he did not arrive before this evening. I was agreeably struck with his appearance; he was a man of middle size; extremely regular features; a calm and dignified manner; a benevolent, and at the same time noble, expression of countenance. His dress was remarkably neat and clean. His turban and long linen gown were beautifully white and of good materials. He promised us that we should have camels the next day, and we agreed that the price should be seventy piastres for the use of each during the journey to Makkarif, where, it is said, we shall arrive in twenty days. It is rather annoying to be thus detained, since every day is of consequence, the season being so far advanced; but it is some consolation that our time has not been quite lost. The island of Elephantine is no longer adorned with temples. Some ruins of walls, a rude statue of Osiris, slight traces of the temple of Chnubis, and the Nilometer, are all the remains which now exist. The northern part resembles a garden ornamented with beautiful groves of palm trees and the richest cultivation. Syene offers still less to interest the antiquarian, but much to strengthen the believer in Holy Writ. The prophetic denunciation of Ezekiel is fulfilled. The tower of Syene has truly fallen from the pride of her power. The ruin of a pier, partly Roman but chiefly Arab, and an insignificant fragment of a temple, are the only vestiges of this once important city. Yet the natural scenery around is still beautiful, and the views from it, as well as from the Island of Elephantine, are the most lovely in Egypt. The castle of Syene, built by the Bosnian soldiers, forms, even in its ruined state, a highly picturesque object. Several of the descendants of the Bosnian soldiers are living at Assuan, and in Lower Nubia. I met with one as far south as Amarah.[3]
Feb. 7. No camels are arrived; we are obliged, therefore, to delay another day. This requires some patience, when every thing is prepared for our expedition. I superintended this morning the filling of the skins with water: I am sorry to find them very indifferent, although the best I could procure.
Philæ.—Feb. 9. After repeated applications to the Governor, I have procured at last nine camels and two dromedaries for ourselves. Any complaint of this delay would be unreasonable, otherwise than as a misfortune. Several Turks in the employment of the Pasha have been detained for want of them during this last fortnight; notwithstanding which, from their knowledge of his favour for travellers, they have given me the preference. Our start, however, is at last made. I have been very anxious to leave Assuan, having perceived an increasing disinclination on the part of my artist and servants to undertake the journey. The tales of some Arab merchants have excited among them so much alarm, that all my powers of persuasion and remonstrance were necessary to keep them from defection. They have unfortunately heard the exclamations of some of my old Nubian friends, the Rais of the Cataract and others, when I told them I was going to Shendy. “Wonderful! God is great! but are you not afraid to go into such a hot country, where it rains fire?” It has been no easy task to persuade them that a passage of eight or ten days over a desert, without water, and of twenty days without intermission on the backs of camels, can be an easy undertaking. I hope, for their sakes, we shall not have to suffer much: as to myself, I feel more indifferent. I am going to Meroe; and the idea of the desert, notwithstanding Burckhardt’s, and still more Bruce’s, description of it, does not damp my ardour.
Sail on the Nile.—Feb. 10. We left Philæ this morning at half past seven, entered into the mountains, and at three o’clock descended again into the valley of the Nile; at a quarter to six, we pitched our tents on the banks of the river. The mountains we have passed are of the same character as at the cataract, chiefly of syenite, the exterior of which is darkened by the sun. The formation consists of the same round blocks, appearing at a distance as disjoined. The place where we are encamped, and indeed all the country we have traversed to-day, is miserably poor. The strip of cultivated land is not an eighth of a mile in breadth. Barley, cotton, and sherangig are all that the country produces. The latter, which forms the chief food of the Nubian, is a hard disagreeable kind of pea, which no culinary art can render palatable to European taste. We have passed several small villages, each containing from ten to twenty houses. This morning we met a troop of cavalry from Khartoun, which had passed the desert, of which they gave us any thing but an encouraging description. They say we shall be ten days in crossing it; and “take care of your water” is their constant advice. The same admonition has been dunned in our ears more than a hundred times since the day that we arrived at Assuan.
Marwal.—Feb. 11. We set out this morning at half past seven, and proceeded, for some time, on the banks of the river. Nearly opposite to the small temple of Kardassy, we again turned into the mountains. There the granite chain suddenly ceases, and the hills are of sandstone, until opposite Tafey, where again, for a short space, they are of granite, and then of sandstone. Arriving at the district of Kalabshy, I found the mountains partially composed of sandstone, and immediately afterwards of granite. The belt of cultivated land, on both sides of the river, is always extremely narrow, seldom above fifty paces wide; and sometimes the rocks extend to the water, scarcely leaving a narrow and dangerous path. My own camel fell, and also the one conveying the baggage. This is the first time that such an accident has occurred to me with these animals; and I ought to add, not to have the appearance of contradicting what I have elsewhere said, that any horse, or even mule, would have run considerable risk of stumbling over these slippery granite rocks. Before leaving Assuan, a fortune-teller came to my tent: being busy at the time, I ordered her away rather angrily. In her rage, she exclaimed that I should fall from my camel. I did not expect that her malediction would be so soon fulfilled. I had quite forgotten the circumstance; but my Arabs, shaking their heads, soon reminded me of it. My fall might have been serious, as such accidents with this animal generally are, if the creature had rolled immediately; but, the instant it stumbled, I leaped off, and escaped unhurt. Barley, sherangig, and cotton are the only productions I have observed this day: they are often mingled together, in patches, upon the same field. I observed the peasants breaking the sandstone and spreading it on the ground. The best way of seeing to advantage the scenery on the Nile is, certainly, to ride on its banks: in a boat the effect is lost. The finest view we have had this morning, was in descending from the mountains opposite Tafey. The basalt and red but exteriorly dark-coloured granite, contrasted with the light red sand of the desert, similar rocks and sands in the distance, in the midst the serpentine river with its verdant banks, adorned with groves of palm trees and the interesting remains of temples, all illumined with the clearest blue sky and the most gorgeous sunset, formed often a scene to which few painters could do justice. Though not romantic nor strikingly picturesque, according to the original import of those terms, yet the extraordinary contrast and magical effect produced by this wonderful combination of brilliant colours, are magnificent, and present almost insuperable difficulties to the artist who attempts faithfully to delineate such a landscape. Three hours before arriving here, we passed the small village of Abaho, in which I counted nearly thirty houses. The inhabitants are evidently wretchedly poor; however, they enjoy the luxury of idleness. Very few seemed engaged in any occupation. One woman I observed spinning cotton and two or three busy about their domestic concerns; but the many were enjoying il dolce fur niente of the Italians. They were almost all miserably clad; the clothes of both sexes were in rags, the children naked, and girls from fourteen to sixteen, with beautiful forms, and extremely graceful and elegant in their movements, had merely a covering which extended from the waist to a little above the knee. This ceinture, or rat, as it is called in Arabic, is made of thin thongs of hippopotamus hide, and fancifully ornamented with beads and small shells. The number of thongs is so great, that it fully serves its purpose as a covering. They wear it till they are married; an event, however, which often takes place before they are twelve years of age.
Dacker.—Feb. 12. We left the village of Marwal at seven, and encamped here at sunset. Our route has this day, also, been alternately in the mountains and on the banks of the river. We observe the same poverty, the same sterility; villages of about a dozen houses each, constructed, in the rudest manner, of stones piled on each other. The cultivated land on the banks is never more than fifty paces wide, often not twenty, and in some parts the barren rocks extend to the river. We met, this morning, another troop of a cavalry regiment, returning by the desert from Khartoun. We shall, no doubt, meet traces of their passage,—dead camels, if not men. Some of their animals could scarcely crawl, and one of them dropped on the ground unable to proceed any farther. The master, a Turk, seemed very much concerned; but whether for the value of the beast, or real attachment to his fellow traveller, I will not decide; yet, in justice to his humanity, I must relate, that, when the Arabs wished to stab and cut it up for food, he refused his consent. Finding, however, that it was impossible the animal could proceed, or even live many hours, he ordered his servant to shoot it with his musket. This showed some feeling; for had he left it to die on the road, the Arabs would have killed it with their knives, and then could lawfully have eaten it. They were very much disappointed at being deprived of their repast, and considered it quite a waste of valuable food. We have passed the village and temple of Dandour (on the other bank), and are now encamped opposite the temple and village of Dacker.[4] Adjoining is a Roman inclosure of large extent with towers, constructed of unburnt bricks. There are no traces of a temple within the inclosure; but contiguous to the south-east corner are some fragments of a room still adorned with hieroglyphics and sculpture, but too much defaced for us to discover the subject. The style is very wretched, and evidently Roman. Mountains of hornblende and sandstone.
Wady el Elayat.—Feb. 13. We quitted Dacker this morning, soon after sunrise, and have encamped this evening in a small valley near the river, and, as is generally the custom of the caravans, close to a village. There is not much provision to be procured from a Nubian village, frequently not even eggs and fowls. A half-starved sheep or kid may sometimes be purchased, but at a much higher price than in Upper Egypt. Yet there is no uniformity in the rates: you have a sheep one day for six piastres; and the next, perhaps at only thirty miles’ distance off, you must pay twelve, or even more, for one not larger. This arises, of course, from the poverty of the land, and the very little communication which exists between the different villages. My servants and camel-drivers like to chat with the women; and, perhaps, near the villages we are less annoyed by the wolves than we might be at a greater distance, the dogs of the peasants affording a certain protection, though I have often heard them snuffing around my tent. We have passed this morning the village of Uffidunia: the temple of that name is on the opposite side of the river. Our track has chiefly followed the banks of the Nile, but the views have not been very pleasing. The mountains consist chiefly of a soft sandstone, the surface of which is very much darkened by the sun. We have met another troop of the cavalry from Khartoun. The soldiers have all male or female slaves; some for their own service, others on speculation for the Cairo market. The women are almost entirely covered; sometimes I could distinguish a fine black eye glancing from under the coverings, but it is not considered decorous to notice them much. This etiquette, which still prevails so generally in the East, is the same ancient custom by which Themistocles profited to facilitate his escape to the Persian king. We are encamped at the borders of the province called Wady el Elayat.
Sungar.—Feb. 14. We have been eleven hours in the district of El Elayat. We left the small village at the commencement of the Wady this morning at seven, and encamped here at sunset. This is the last village of the Wady. We have suffered more from fatigue than before; the road, or rather path, having led for a long time over the hills. Immediately after starting, we left the valley of the Nile for an hour and a half. That part of the road was not very fatiguing. We passed Seboua at eleven, and at two P.M. left the Nile, and were obliged to alight from our camels and climb the mountain, for three hours, over the most difficult paths we have yet met with. A notion prevails in Europe, that camels are incapable of crossing rough mountainous and stony roads; I can only say that, upon this rocky, and sometimes steep path, none of our camels fell; had we used horses, the difficulty would certainly have been as great, particularly when heavy loads were upon their backs. I would not have ventured to ride over, even on a mule. The mountains are of sandstone, some also of hornblende. I sketched, this evening, a native of this district, my dragoman in the mean time keeping him in conversation till I finished my sketch, without his having any suspicion what I was doing. All the Nubians have a superstitious prejudice against having their portraits drawn. I made some enquiries about the village, its name, the number of houses, and of inhabitants, &c. The poor peasants imagined I was employed by the Pasha to take an account of the country. Apprehensive that I should cause their taxes to be raised, they gave me a lamentable description of their poverty, saying that there were indeed eleven houses, but they were all tumbling to pieces; that they were miserably poor; had scarcely a rag to cover them; that their land did produce some little cotton and barley, but if I caused their taxes to be increased, they could not subsist, but must absolutely die of starvation. Man here may be said only to vegetate. He drags on, from day to day, a miserable existence, living on the coarsest food, and ignorant of any comfort. In examining, however, more closely, we find the peasants of Nubia possessing some great advantages over those of Lower and Upper Egypt. Their domestic comfort is decidedly greater. Their women, unlike those of Egypt, have always their faces uncovered, and enjoy in other respects much freedom; while that depravity as regards both sexes, which pervades the whole land of Egypt, is almost utterly unknown in these Nubian villages. They are also less oppressed; and, thanks to the poverty of their country, less annoyed by the presence of their rulers. Their predominant vice is drinking immoderately of bouza and arracki. There being only three mosques from the first to the second cataract, a distance of more than 220 miles, and their almost total deficiency of religious instruction, are perhaps some excuse for their violating, in this respect, so openly, and to such an excess, the precepts of the Koran.
Korosko.—Feb. 15. We arrived at this village at ten o’clock. Here again commences a Nubian dialect, but different from the Kenous, above the first cataract. The district of Wady el Elayat, or Wady el Arabi, which we passed through yesterday, is the division between these two Nubian tribes. We have allowed our camels to rest this afternoon, previous to commencing to-morrow morning the fatigues, perils, and privations of the Great Desert: they are making the last hearty meal which they will enjoy for some time; the Ababdes are filling the water skins, while my servants are employed in foraging for provisions; no easy task in a Nubian village. Mr. B. has made me a view in colours of the extraordinary effect of the scenery in Nubia, produced by the wonderful contrast between the dark hills and the bright yellow sands, fringed with strips of the beautiful verdure on the banks of the river. The Governor, an Effendi, paid me a visit in my tent, and frankly asked me for several things which he saw, and fancied; which I as frankly refused. The visits of inferior Turks are always annoyances: it is very seldom that any information can be obtained from them, and their impertinence is without bounds. I was amused by his secretary, a Copt, who complained that he was affected by a pain in his chest when the weather was cold. I gave him some flannel, which I could ill spare, also some medicine; and, with other advice, I told him most peremptorily that he must drink no arracki (spirit). This last injunction disconcerted him exceedingly; and his master laughed heartily at an advice which he knew to be so unwelcome to his jovial secretary. I told him it would kill him. “Well,” said he, “if it kills me, maktoob min Allah! it is written, but drink I must.” In the evening, he came to me again, half intoxicated. As I offered him no beverage, except coffee, he soon, with a cunning smile and an expressive nod, pulled out of his pocket a small bottle of excellent arracki and a little cup. I did not wish to offend the fellow, having occasion to leave some boxes in his charge until my return, and therefore endured his company for some time. At last, his intoxication increasing, he was quite insupportable, and I was obliged to desire my servant to turn him out. His good-humour did not forsake him, nor did he seem at all offended; coolly observing, that he was sorry I was tired of his company.