Although my fatigue by day made repose by night very essential to me, my rest was sadly disturbed by the habits of my people. Quite intolerable at times was the eternal babbling of their prayers, which, beginning in the evening hours, were wearily prolonged, and nothing could accustom me to the clamour which they made. They seemed at times to drive me in my impatience well-nigh to distraction. Some priests had arrived from Darfoor, who surpassed all else in the clamour they raised. With a lot of gibberish utterly incomprehensible, through their antiquated pronunciation, to any of the Nubians, they proceeded to recite the verses of the Koran with the grinding monotony of a mill. My own people, however, devoted Mohammedans as they were, on these occasions took my part, and warned off the disturbers of my rest from the proximity of the hut. I cannot tell whether they were not such enthusiastic believers, or whether their animosity was excited by the bombastic erudition of the Foorians, but they set to work in earnest, and made a clearance as effectual as I had once seen accomplished by the officers of the liberal-tyrannical government of Muntass Bey in Suakin. That ruler, when I had last been residing in his town, had had the unparalleled audacity to send his Khavasses into the neighbouring mosque, and to threaten to make a free use of the kurbatch if the prayers at night were not promptly stopped. He sent a message to the effect that if the priests wanted to pray they need not shriek, for Allah could hear just as well without the outcry. The daring of such an intrusion had never been matched from the day of creation onwards.

Idrees, the superintendent of the Seriba, had eleven sons all nearly of the same age, a circumstance readily explained by his plurality of wives. For these youths, whom the children of other residents were allowed to join, he had instituted something like a regular Jewish school, and no one who has ever had the chance of witnessing the proceedings of such an institution can forget the sensation they left upon his ears. Four times in the course of the four-and-twenty hours, at intervals of four hours apart, does the chorus of voices in these Nubian schools break out in alternate humming, and buzzing, and shouting, occasionally varied by the didactic hammering of the master, by the switch of his rod, and the consequent screams of the youngsters, which were invariably followed by a louder and livelier articulation. There is one school time just before sunset and another very shortly after, so that every attempt at repose is certain to be thwarted. However, I could always endure this disturbance with much more equanimity than the humbug of the prayers; for, however erroneous, according to our ideas, might be the method of instruction in school, yet its object at least was laudable.

Occasions there were when nightly orgies were all the rage, and the idle pretext under which these were maintained was that the plague of flies permitted no rest. The Nubians, when they had made themselves tipsy with their detestable merissa, had the habit of finding an outlet for their hilarity in banging on the kettle-drums which hung at the entrance of the Seriba. To me this abominable noise was a very thorn in the flesh, and as the huge drums were very near my quarters, and had broken my sleep often enough, I took the liberty of sprinkling the parchment with a sufficient quantity of muriatic acid, so that the next time they were drummed they split across. Till some new kettle-drums were provided I could slumber in peace.

AN INCANTATION.

Another interruption to a quiet night occasionally arose from the native wizards, who practised the mystery of casting out devils. I told them that they must be very indifferent charmers if they were unable to expel the devils by day as well as by night; but they did not appear to see matters at all in that light. One occasion there was in which, out of pure compassion, I permitted the proceedings to go on, although the noise was so extreme that it would never have been tolerated in the daytime. The wife of the Dinka interpreter in the Seriba had been long suffering under some chronic disorder, and he had undertaken a long day’s journey to fetch a very celebrated conjuror or “Cogyoor” to treat her case. The incantation began in a strain which would try the very stoutest of nerves: the strength of the wizard’s lungs was astounding, and could have won a wager against a steam-trumpet. The virtue of the proceeding, however, centred upon this, and ventriloquism was called in to assist in producing a dialogue between himself and the devil which possessed the patient. I say the “devil,” because the Biblical expression has accustomed us to the phrase, but I disapprove of the translation, and would rather say the “demon.”

In the most penetrating tone, something like the cackling of frightened hens, only a thousand times louder, the sorcerer began the enchantment, which consisted of several acts. The first act lasted two hours without intermission, and unless it were heard it could never be imagined. I was assured that this introduction was quite indispensable—​as a means of intimidating the devil and compelling him to reply, it could not by any means be omitted from the execution of the charm. The dialogue which followed between the wizard and the devil was carried on by the artifice of ventriloquism. The wizard made all kinds of inquiries as to the devil’s name, the period of his possession of the woman, his proceedings, and his whereabouts, and then went on to ask about his lineage, his kinsfolk, and acquaintances. When for an hour or more the wizard had interrogated him till he had got all the answers he wanted, he set to work to provide the real remedy. Hurrying away into the wood, he got some root or herb, which perchance in many cases contributes to a cure. It all vividly reminded me of the clap-trap which advertisers and quacks are accustomed to employ, and how it may happen that they get hold of some simple and long-known material, which, under some marvellous name, they impose as a novelty upon the public. Puffing is part of their trade, and without a good deal of noise their business will not thrive in Europe any more than in Africa.

JOINING ABOO SAMMAT.

The rainy season in due time came to its end. For seven months and a half I had now been quietly quartered in the Seriba of Ghattas; but a change was now impending, as I had resolved to quit my limited range and to attach my fortunes to the care of Aboo Sammat, whom I have already mentioned. Repeatedly he had invited me, at his own expense, to visit with him the Niam-niam lands, and I had determined to follow the advice of my people, who knew his character, and to accept his offer. I discovered that he had penetrated considerably further to the south than any other, and that he had more than once crossed that problematic stream of the Monbuttoo which was said to flow quite independently of the Nile system towards the west. The prospect of visiting the Niam-niam would be much more restricted if I were to remain attached to the expeditions of Ghattas’s Company, as they had hitherto been confined to those nearest and most northerly districts of that country of which the first knowledge in Europe had been circulated by Piaggia.

I could not be otherwise than aware of the questionableness of giving up my safe quarters, and exchanging my security for the uncertain issues of a wandering life in Central Africa, but irresistible was the inducement to enlarge my acquaintance with the country and to find a wider field for my investigations. The season of the year was, moreover, quite in favour of pushing farther on than I had previously contemplated. Full of expectation, therefore, I turned my hopes towards the south, in an eastern direction, towards that untraversed region between the Tondy and the Rohl, which already is just as truly subject to the Khartoomers as that in which I had been sojourning.

In my immediate neighbourhood I had tolerably well exhausted the treasures of the botanical world; after the rains were over there was a comparative barrenness in the productions of nature. I made, indeed, my daily excursions, but they reached only to places which I had previously inspected. A sense of irksomeness began to predominate, and every tree of any magnitude, every ant-hill had become so familiar that they had entirely lost the charm of novelty.