On board our little vessel we altogether counted thirty-two, a number small in comparison with that in the other boats. The total number, however, did not admit of much reduction. No boat’s crew alone could suffice to overcome the obstacles which were to be expected in the waters further up the country.
The merchant Ghattas, to whom the boat belonged, had manned it with eight boatmen, and had also put on board fifteen hired men to serve, partly as a protection against any attacks, and partly to assist in towing the boats. The soldiers, as they were called, were for the most part young, and were originally inhabitants of the valley of the Upper Nile, between Berber and Khartoom, but from whence they had been driven to escape on account of the heavy taxation. Since agriculture hardly kept them from misery and starvation, they preferred to hire themselves out as robbers, slave-hunters, cattle-stealers, or whatever could enable them to gratify the innate propensity for adventure which belongs to every Nubian. Besides the six Nubians engaged in Khartoom, my own retinue included two women slaves, whose hand labour supplied the want of mills; their office, performed by means of stones, was to convert our corn into the flour requisite for the maintenance of the crew. We were packed closely enough; cramped up, we appeared like cattle in a pew, yet our accommodation was comparatively spacious. Other boats I saw of which the dimensions were hardly larger than our own, and which were made to carry sometimes sixty, sometimes eighty human beings. But even this was a trifling repletion as compared with the boats we met, and which, in a hold of not more than fifty tons, often stowed away 200 slaves. The crew squat like hens on shelves outstretched upon deck between mast and mast; and in order to afford the soldiers rest by night, the vessels lie-to whenever the shore is safe.
A rough wooden partition erected at the stern of the bulky vessel was assigned to me as my special berth. I had arranged it as well as I could, and sat there surrounded, in charming confusion, by baggage and trunks, and the thousand articles which made up my equipment. The boats which are used upon the upper waters of the Nile are called “negger;” their construction, I believe, is unlike what can be seen in any other country of the world. They are as strong as they are massive, being built so as to withstand the violent pushings of the hippopotamuses, as well as the collisions with the mussel banks, which are scattered in various directions. I am certain that one of these boats at any maritime exhibition would attract the attention of all who take any interest in such things. I am not aware that there is anything accurate to be found in any history of travel on this subject, and it may be permitted me therefore to insert a few particulars of the Khartoom ship-building.
SHIP-BUILDING AT KHARTOOM.
There can be no question that the ship-building on the Red Sea, just like the architecture of the towns along its coast, is of Indian origin, all the timber required in Arabia being procured from India. At Khartoom, on the contrary, this art, although in many respects it has peculiarities of its own, has been derived from an Egyptian source. Taking their own special requirements into account, the boat-builders of Egypt have completely altered the structure and shape of their river boats. It must be borne in mind that the recurring cataracts, which interrupt the navigation of the Nubian Nile valley, rendered any ascent of the river a matter of difficulty, demanding indeed the most strenuous exertions. The cataracts are ten in number, and only recently have they been overcome by some small steam vessels of about 60-horse power. The only wood which is used in Khartoom for ship-building is that of the Sunt acacia (A. nilotica), which, though far heavier and harder than our oak, is the only wood which the soil of the Soudan supplies, which appears capable of being sawn into planks. But on account of the irregular texture and numerous branches of the trunk of this acacia, it is impossible to cut it into boards more than ten feet in length, and even these are rare. Masts and sail-yards, since those of deal seldom reach Khartoom, and then are of an exorbitant price, must be made by splicing together a number of small pieces. Externally these are bound with ox hide; but in violent gales they are extremely liable to start. Not only does the wood fail to be either straight or long, it is also so hard, that it requires to be sawn while it is green. The saw is an instrument so rarely employed throughout Nubia, that it is handled most unskilfully by the carpenters; as matter of course, there are neither steam-mills nor water-mills in Khartoom, and consequently the planks are cut without the faintest pretence to regularity.
All these defects are, however, cancelled by the unexampled toughness and indestructible nature of the wood; it might fairly be asked from what other material could boats 60 feet long and 20 feet broad be constructed without ribs or braces. The sides of the boat are a foot thick, and are formed of layers of different lengths, which acquire stability and firmness from their own support. An empty boat, seen from inside, has somewhat the appearance of an elongated shell of half a hazel-nut. The planks, where they overlap or are dove-tailed together, are fastened by iron nails driven in perpendicularly, the necessary holes being bored from the outer to the inner surfaces in such a way that the same nail holds together two, or occasionally more, thicknesses of wood. In this manner, with much trouble and more measuring, is obtained the proper curvature of the hull, which, as a whole, is marked by a complete symmetry. The cost of the stout iron nails, and the rapid wear of axe and saw, make the expenses of building these boats so considerable that they amount to five times as much as oak vessels of the same size in Europe. A mast about 20 feet high bears the giant-yard of the single lateen sail, which is generally half as long again as the boat.
NIGHT ON THE RIVER.
Amid the farewell salutations of a large concourse, among which my people counted numerous friends and relations, we pushed off from the shore. Without delay we took our onward course to the mouth of the Blue Nile, doubling the Ras-el-Khartoom, that large promontory, which resembles in form the snout of an animal; it gives its name to the town, and is the partition land between the two arms of the Nile. Bulky and ponderous as was our boat, the power of the north wind laid its hold upon our giant-sail, and carried us with the speed of steam towards the south. On the forenoon of the following day we found ourselves already 1° below the latitude of Khartoom. We sailed, without staying our course, through the night, which was cheered by the moonlight. I was sleepless with excitement at finding myself at last brought irrevocably to the attainment of my cherished hopes. The universal quiet was only broken by the rush of the bilge-water, and now and then by the cry of the water-birds. Shrouded like mummies in their white garments lay the crew, closely packed upon the narrow deck; and altogether there was something spectral in the stillness of the nocturnal voyage.
As the morning sun fell upon the low monotonous shores of the flowing river, it seemed at times almost as though it were illuminating the ocean, so vast was the extent of water where the current ran for any distance in a straight and unwinding course. Low levels, that seemed interminable, only marked out from the land beyond by narrow belts of trees, formed the framework of the scene. The borders of the desert rise and fall in gentle undulations, on which stand, sometimes scantily and sometimes thickly, groups of Haras and Seyal acacias. The vegetation which is visible demonstrates the complete desert character of Nubia. The shooshgrass (Panicum turgidum), the most general of herbage for the camels, is here trodden down in masses.
The voyage up the White Nile has been very frequently described by various travellers. The districts along the shore mostly retain an unchanging aspect for miles together. Barely does some distant mountain or isolated hill relieve the eye from the wide monotony. In spite of all, there was no lack of interest. There is much that cannot fail to make the progress ever striking and impressive.