SUAKIN.
I was now visiting Suakin for the fourth time, and the Governor received me very graciously as an old acquaintance. He sent immediately for some camels, which I required for the continuation of my journey. He himself had to leave the town on the following day to visit his summer abode in the neighbouring mountains. There still remained to me four months before commencing my real journey from Khartoom, as the voyage up the White Nile could not begin until December or January; I resolved to fill up the interval by a tour through the mountains of South Nubia, for the purpose of accustoming myself to the heat and fatigue of a harmless climate, before exposing myself to the fever atmosphere of Khartoom and the Upper Nile districts. Just at this time of year, too, the valleys between the Red Sea and the Nile promised me a rich booty, and I hoped to obtain a remuneration for any toil on my part by the botanical varieties which were to be looked for on the elevated ridges. I could not do otherwise than rejoice in the prospect of escape from the glowing oven of Suakin towards the western horizon, where the mountain-chains, veiled in grey vapour, betrayed the refreshing rains which favoured the district and rendered it so preferable for my sojourn. At night was heard the roll of distant thunder, and the darkness was broken at intervals by flashes of lightning.
On the 10th of September at daybreak all was ready. After the lapse of two years passed in the domestic comforts of Europe, it is not altogether easy to remount the “ship of the desert.” Our first day’s march was through a trying country. The plain indeed was uniformly level, but for twelve miles it was covered with such huge black boulders glowing with the heat, that progress was very difficult. After we had proceeded about nine miles from the town, we made a short midday halt under the miserable shade of some dry acacias, which were like the uncovered skeletons of parasols. As if in despair they stretched their leafless branches towards the sky, and seemed to implore for water. Exposed here in a leathern pipe to the wind, our drinking water soon cooled down to a temperature about 18° below the surrounding atmosphere.
The coast plains, although practically level, evidently slope very gradually down to the sea, for after a few hours’ march the town is seen like a white spot far below. Beyond is the expanse of sea, which melts into the horizon. The coast-ridges are on an average from 3000 to 4000 feet high, but occasionally single peaks may rise to an altitude of 5000 feet. At one time they appear like a lofty wall, rising abruptly from the slanting plane; at another like separate piles of rock picturesquely grouped behind and over one another. Our route awhile across the narrow promontory now lay along the enclosure of a valley bounded by sloping walls of granite. After twelve hours’ perseverance, on the afternoon of the following day we reached the first mountain pass, about 3000 feet above the level of the sea.
NIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS.
Infinitely refreshing was it to ascend at every step higher into the mountain atmosphere, and to be raised above the vapourous heat of the suffocating shore. There seemed a requickening energy in every breath of air, as gratefully it circulated on the heights. The real charm of such a change could not be appreciated more than on the first night of camping-out. Comfortably stretched upon the clean smooth stones which form the valley, the weary limbs could find repose; through the silent night the stars shed a bright and kind encouragement; there was an aromatic odour floating refreshingly around, for, impregnated with camphor, mint, and thyme, the air was laden with scents which the stores of the perfumer could not rival, and such as no quarter of the globe could surpass. The plants which exhale the welcome aroma are little obscure mountain weeds, amongst which a “pulicaria” plays an essential part. Noiselessly and like spectres glided the camels on their soft feet through the valley, rejoicing in the pasture, sweet and luscious after the scanty herbage of the shore, where for them all was dearth and salt and bitterness.
Solemnity reigned throughout nature; no discordant cry of mountain bird, no howling beast of prey, disturbed the traveller: there was only the delicate song of the desert cricket to lull him into peaceful slumber.
The mountains between Suakin and Singat afford a habitat for such numbers of remarkable plants that they appear for their variety alone well worth a visit. The most striking forms which arrest the attention of the uninitiated are the Dracænæ and Euphorbiæ, remarkable as both are for their fantastic shapes. They flourish on the loftiest heights, but are found 2000 feet below, towards the valleys. The first belong to those types of vegetation which (as though they had been carried in the air and dropped from another world) are limited to extremely narrow sections of the earth. The first dragon-trees (dracænæ) which were observed in the African continent, are those which are to be found on these mountains alone, and even here only over an area of a few square miles.[3] The Nubian dracænæ, being only from 15 to 20 feet in height, are dwarfish in comparison with their famous sister of Orotava in Teneriffe, but in other respects there are only minute and subtle distinctions between them and those which are found in the Canary Isles. In the language of the native nomad tribes of the Hadendoa and Bishareen, the dracæna is known as “To-Omba” or “T’Ombet.” The leaves afford bast for cords, the long flower stalks serve in June as excellent food for camels, whilst for goats they are almost poison.[4]
Another remarkable feature of this mountain-district is the large number of succulent plants, the fantastic forms of which here appropriately adorn the craggy walls of the valley, and supply a needed decoration to the more barren rocks of Southern Nubia.
In Abyssinia itself neither euphorbiæ nor aloes are ever found at an altitude of less than 4000 feet. Here, beside the giant Kolkwal, they are found much lower towards the valley. Four smaller kinds of the same species, as well as some remarkable Stapeliæ (which resemble the cactus type of the euphorbiæ), flourish to the very summit of the mountains. Found in company with them is a wild unearthly-looking plant called the Caraïb (Bucerosia), of which the branches are like wings, prickly and jagged round the edges like a dragon’s back. They produce clusters of brown flowers as large as one’s fist, which exhale a noxious and revolting smell, the plants themselves being swollen with a white and slimy poisonous juice.