I must now extract from my journal the entry of the date, as, although briefly written, it will convey the impression of the moment:—
"March 23, 1872.—We marched three miles east, along the banks of the beautiful Victoria Nile, through fine open forest, until we halted on a high cliff exactly opposite, the last station of Abou Saood, commanded by a vakeel named Suleiman.
"It is impossible to describe the change that has taken place since I last visited this country. It was then a perfect garden, thickly populated, and producing all that man could desire. The villages were numerous; groves of plantains fringed the steep cliff's on the river's bank; and the natives were neatly dressed in the bark cloth of the country.
"The scene has changed!
"All is wilderness! The population has fled. Not a village is to be seen!
"This is the certain result of the settlement of Khartoum traders. They kidnap the women and children for slaves, and plunder and destroy wherever they set their foot.
"Seleiman and Eddrees, two vakeels, who were well known to me as forming a portion of Ibrahim's party on my former journey, now came across the river to visit me.
"The cunning Abou Saood has never told them of the expiration of the government contract with Agad & Co., neither had they any warning of my expected arrival.
"I explained the exact state of affairs.
"The principal sheik of the district, with many people, came to see me. The chief, Quonga, was one of my old acquaintances, and was formerly the favourite adviser of Kamrasi.