The natives of Kordofan draw but little profit from all these products of the animal and vegetable kingdoms; for, independently of their not understanding how to turn the various articles to advantage, or rather to perfect them by art or industry, they are too lazy to do any thing more, than is necessary for their absolute maintenance. Very few artisans are, consequently, to be found among them: they consist of a few weavers of calicos, smiths, tanners, and potters. The cottons the natives produce are not sufficient for the supply of the country, hence the greater part of the consumption is imported from Dongola, Egypt, and Europe. Not that there is a deficiency of the necessary means for cultivating a larger quantity of raw cotton, or for manufacturing it; but they will not take the slightest trouble about it, because all their labour would be purchased by the government at an arbitrary price, which would not repay the workman for his trouble, and they, therefore, prefer to lie about idle all the day long, or to pass their time with useless games. It is really an interesting sight to watch a weaver at his work; and I know not which is more astonishing, the simplicity of the implements with which he toils, or the patience he displays in his occupation. The weavers can only work in the dry season, because their houses are too small to allow them to fit up a loom in them; they consequently place the frames close to the door of their huts, and work in that situation. An European weaver, even the most expert in his art, would be greatly puzzled if put to one of these looms, and would scarcely know how to begin his work, so primitive are they in construction. Four stout sticks, are driven into the ground, to which the reed and other parts of the apparatus are attached; the weft is expanded at a distance of scarcely one span from the ground, bound to a pole to which a stone is attached, and then drawn along with it. The frame is of the dimensions the piece manufactured is required to have, and is sometimes twenty ells in length. The weaver stands in a pit before his loom, and casts his shuttle at a venture. With every second throw his thread breaks, and then it takes him double the time to tie it again; but nothing disturbs the equanimity of the weaver, he ties his knot with the greatest patience, and again throws his shuttle, again breaks his thread, and again readjusts it. Thus it is impossible to conceive the space of time required to finish a piece about twenty ells in length. They do not understand how to manufacture woven goods from goats’ hair.
The smiths are the most industrious workmen; they fabricate all the necessary household and agricultural implements, are at the same time miners, and smelters of ore; for they dig the iron from the bowels of the earth themselves, and melt it after a very simple process; but they do not understand how to harden it. They have no fixed workshops, but arrange them wheresoever they may happen to find work; the fitting up of the forge costs them but little trouble, for a large stone is soon found on which they place a piece of iron, this serves them then as an anvil; close to this essential instrument, they construct a small furnace, to which a leather sack, answering the purpose of bellows, is attached. They make no heavy objects, for, beyond spear-heads, hashiash, (an agricultural implement,) double-edged, and arrow-pointed knives of various sizes, they cannot produce any other article. Their work is not well rewarded; for the minerals, such as the iron or charcoal cost them scarcely anything, and thus they can only bring their manual labour into calculation. Their tools are not particularly complicated, and consist merely of a few hammers and of a pair of pincers.
The potters manufacture one single kind of vessel (Bursha) in form of a bomb, but with rather a wider neck, and this is used as a receptacle for water, for boiling, roasting, and for keeping merissa in; they make, further, a round and rather deepened plate (Doga) for baking bread, and pipe-heads more of a German shape than like the Turkish bowls; all these articles are, however, perfectly plain without the slightest attempt even at ornament.
There are many tanners in the province who tan the leather by a most simple process, in which they employ the Garat,[65] the pod of a tree. They also manufacture the water-holders, the larger of which, are termed Rai, the smaller Ckir’beh;[66] the latter are generally made of goats’ hides, as in Egypt; the goats being skinned for this purpose like hares; the interior of the skin is merely tanned, whilst the hair is left externally; leathern bags are also fabricated to serve the office of churns. Of leather they produce further sandals, shoes, rahads, and, lastly, shields. The rahad is a girdle fringed by many thousands of small straps, and is generally one, or half a span in length; the girls wear these fringes round their loins, and they are usually decorated with agates and small shells. Shields are mostly manufactured from the hide of the large antelopes; they are of an ovoid shape, furnished with a protuberance in the centre. On the inner surface, a piece of wood bisects them longitudinally, to which two straps are attached to receive the arm; they are very stout, for a thrust with a spear or a sabre-cut scarcely ever penetrates them. The sheep-skins they tan very neatly, and impart to them a red, yellow, green, or other optional colour, by means of the juice of certain plants; the natives bind their shoes, ornament their sandals, or sew up charms with this coloured leather; they also prepare sheaths for knives and other articles from it.
The women plait some very ornamental articles from the foliage of the Palma Thebaica, further, bread-baskets named Tabak, covers for dishes, mats, &c. They dye the leaves in different colours, and decorate them with patterns that are really astonishing. They also manufacture funnels for straining merissa, and baskets for keeping milk. The latter so densely worked that, when the fluid has once permeated them, they do not even leak. Every description of work performed in this country is very simple, and it is only to be wondered at, that the natives are able to produce thus much, as they labour under a deficiency of implements of all kinds.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE CAPITAL OF KORDOFAN, LOBEID.
Lobeid, or Labayet, as it is also termed, is a town composed of several villages, from one of which it neither differs in its external appearance nor internal arrangements, excepting, perhaps, in being of greater extent. The houses, like those of the villages, are mere huts of straw, some few of them are, indeed, built of clay, but not one single house is of stone. The former town of the same name was totally destroyed by the Turks when they took possession of Kordofan, and the six villages, of which the capital of this province now consists, were subsequently built on the same site. Although these villages are not separated from each other by the intervention of a large space, yet each of them forms a separate quarter, and is inhabited by a distinct class of men. Wady Naghele, the first of these, is entirely inhabited by the Dongolavi and foreign merchants; El-Orta, the camp, also named the town of the Turks, is the quarter in which the government buildings are situated, consisting of two Barracks, the arsenal, the hospital and the residences of the officers, and of many married soldiers living out of barrack; in this quarter of the town the Bazaar is also seen. Wady Soffie is the place of abode of the negroes who immigrated with the Melik-Moussalem; Takarir or Takruri, is the village of the pilgrims, where the greater part of the negroes from Pergu and other districts reside. In this part of the town the straw-huts of Abumedina, the brother of the Sultan of Darfûr,[67] are also situate. In Kongeri those emigrants from Darfûr dwell, who have become residents, and remained after the conquest of the country by the Egyptian troops. The sixth village includes the new buildings of the Mogghrebeen, who are not provided with barracks, and have themselves built their own dwellings. These six villages collectively form the town of Lobeid. I estimate the number of inhabitants, exclusively of the military, at 12,000 souls. The houses named in the language of the country, Tukkoli, are mostly huts, similar to those described on a former occasion. The town does not present a very pleasing appearance, and is, on the whole, exceedingly dull and dismal, for very few large houses are to be seen, and not even one minaret, met with in nearly every village in Egypt, which, with the date-trees planted around them, give those villages at least a more cheerful aspect.
Nothing can be more monotonous than the appearance of the town during the dry season, when the detached houses present themselves with all their defects and meanness, and the scanty trees and gardens offer no diversification of scenery; for the former then stand as bald as brooms, and the latter are not even thought of. The burning sand, moreover, serves to remind the traveller that he is in a desert, and there is not the slightest object to be seen that might delight his eye.
How marked is the contrast in the rainy season! It is difficult to persuade yourself that it is the same place you have shortly before seen standing in barren nakedness. All those spots, where nothing but sand was to be observed before, are now clad with a most luxuriant verdure, interspersed with the most beautiful flowers. The hedges round the houses are interlaced with a variety of creepers and twining plants, whose variegated flowers afford a most pleasing spectacle. The environs of the houses are cultivated with dockn, which stands so high that the tops of the roofs are only to be seen projecting beyond it; not a single house can be descried at a distance, and the whole country appears like one large forest. The entire town then resembles a park intersected by mazes, rendering it difficult for a stranger to extricate himself, or to find out a particular house. His embarrassment is greatly augmented by the circumstance of there being several thousands of small straw huts, and by the close resemblance of the houses to each other—for all are built alike—so that the stranger experiences much trouble in even recognising the house he may be lodging in. But all this is in its way unique, and diverts the eye. The traveller wanders with pleasure through these thousands and thousands of intricate paths, and is delighted at every step with the beautiful variations in the scene. At this time, however, the tropical showers set in, bringing a number of disagreeables in their train; for the rain falls so suddenly, and in such abundance, that the soil in some places cannot absorb the water with sufficient rapidity; and thus streams are formed, or the ground is ploughed up into beds, which fill in an instant, rendering the intercourse between one quarter and the other, or even from house to house, very difficult, if they do not totally impede all communication. There are no bridges, not even as much as boards laid down to facilitate the passage over these brooks, and he who is obliged by business to go out immediately after the rain, has no alternative but to wade through all these streams and puddles barefooted. It would be impracticable at this period to ride a donkey even, for notwithstanding their sureness of foot, the ground is so uneven that they must tread into holes, and both man and beast would run the risk of being drowned. Nearly every year there are instances of loss of life from men venturing to go from hut to hut by night, and it is really advisable to remain confined to the house until these torrents are lost in the sand, as is very soon the case.