MAP OF THE WHITE NILE, laid down from the Diary of FERD. WERNE. by H. Mahlmann 1848.

Hillmandel & Walton Lithographers.

Richard Bentley New Burlington Street, 1849.

[(Large-size)]

EXPEDITION
TO DISCOVER THE SOURCES OF
THE WHITE NILE,
IN THE YEARS
1840, 1841.

BY FERDINAND WERNE.

From the German,
BY CHARLES WILLIAM O’REILLY.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.

1849.

PREFACE.

The rich contents and originality of the work before us will escape no one who casts a glance at it, however hasty that may be. It presents the liveliest views of the Natural Productions and People of regions hitherto entirely unvisited. The surprising novelty of the phenomena is described by a writer of much experience, bold energy, and intense devotion to the land of the South. We welcome it, therefore, as a pleasing contribution to our literature of travel, often so insipid. The discoverer of the Source of the White Nile, under the vertical rays of the sun in Equatorial Inner Africa, will share the same fate as his illustrious predecessor, James Bruce, the discoverer of the Sources of the Blue Nile, if many of his statements should be doubted, criticised, and misunderstood.

We have, however, no pretensions to be defenders of them. Some ten years later, perhaps, their justification, with the exception of a few errors, may follow our Herodotean wanderer into a terra incognita. Such was the case with a Marco Polo, Christopher Columbus, James Bruce, and Mungo Park.

Two French accounts have preceded the present narrative of a German fellow-traveller, in one of the three vast expeditions by water, undertaken by Mohammed Ali in 1840 and the succeeding years, with unequal success, for the discovery of the Sources of the Bahr el Abiad. We welcomed the French accounts on their first appearance, notwithstanding their meagreness and doubtfulness, in consequence of their main results. At the same time we expressed our hope that we should be better informed of these events by their fellow-traveller, for we were already aware of the exertions of the author of the present narrative. Everything, therefore, introductory to this Work will be found in the undermentioned pamphlet, to which it is only necessary here to refer to avoid repetition in a preface:—

“A Glance at the Country of the Source of the Nile, by C. Ritter, with a Map, Berlin, 1844, and three Supplements—1st, by F. Werne, the Second Expedition to discover the Sources of the White Nile, from November 1840 to April 1841, pages 42-50. 2nd—On Carl Zimmermann’s annexed Chart, to shew the Upper Country of the Nile. 3d—Dr. Girard on the Nature of the Soil of Central Africa on both banks of the Upper Bahr el Abiad, to the foot of the Mountains of the Moon, pages 68-72., principally from the mountain specimens brought home by Mr. Werne.”

We have the pleasure of possessing, in the present more accurate statement, many new data and remarks on earlier accounts, though, doubtless, these will bring on a controversy, for the acrimony of which the Author has himself to blame. When, however, such sarcasm is directed in an instructive and legitimate manner, as that against D’Abbadie, in the convincing Appendix, (to which we must here draw attention, in order to understand the whole,) we cannot blame the Author, who has gained by toil and labour positive facts, for rendering them secure, as far as possible, against malicious presumptions and arrogant hypotheses. Science, moreover, is always the gainer by these discussions.

The annexed Map has been newly constructed, by Mr. H. Mahlmann, with his usual scrupulous accuracy, from the manuscript of the Journal, and the notes of the Traveller. Though, under the present circumstances, it leaves much here and there to be desired, yet by comparing it with that of Bimbashi D’Arnaud’s, executed and published at Paris in 1843, it makes a very useful addition to the Work. Still much instructive elucidation and enlargement of knowledge might be gained by a complete description and pictorial representation of the wonderful collection of Natural Productions, Works of Art, Weapons, Household Utensils, and other objects, hitherto the only one we possess. In the annexed engraving we give a specimen of these curiosities, collected by Mr. Werne’s care, on his journey to Bari, and afterwards incorporated by him, in addition to his Collection of Natural History, with the Royal Museum of this city, where they are to be viewed, to the number of one hundred and twenty-six different articles.

C. Ritter.

Berlin, July 27, 1848.

CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.

EXPEDITION
TO DISCOVER THE SOURCES
OF THE
WHITE NILE.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

Discoveries and conquests, which so frequently go hand in hand, are of the greatest importance to the history of mankind. Like a combination of streams, they break through natural boundaries and the rocky dams of ages, and open a way for the incessant progress of civilization through new and untrodden paths. Yet glorious enterprises, costly equipments, and hazardous exploits, may conceal a swelling kernel of material interest beneath a husk of fine reasons, as if these constituted the primitive motive. Thus Mohammed Ali, the Viceroy of Egypt, has done very much for science, especially geography, without even thinking of it, whose comprehensive relations, with respect to the higher requirements of mankind, lie far beyond the limits of his ideas. Neither has he honoured with his study the hieroglyphics in the Biban el Moluk near Thebes, where the black Kushi bring golden rings as tribute to the Pharaohs. Yet he knows, and is so exceedingly fond of these rings (Okiën), which in Ethiopia even now serve instead of money, that, so far as the destroying arms of this much-famed satrap reach in Belled-Sudan, no more okiën are to be seen. Moreover, he is making exertions to follow and secure those that have retreated and eluded his grasp, which affords an excellent opportunity for extending our knowledge of the countries and people of East and Central Africa. He sacrificed his son Ismail, and, through the Defterdar, devastated and depopulated this beautiful country, merely to secure to himself the way to the gold regions; though he might have attained his object much better, had he sought to elevate the country in every possible way, and to re-establish mercantile confidence. For, from the earliest ages, a market has existed here, to which gold comes, first hand, in the leaf and grain form, by barter with the inhabitants of the interior, just as it has been separated from the sand of the torrents, and kept in quills or horns of the gazelle. In Sennaar or Kordofan it is found in rings of half and whole okiën and in gold wire, but it is frequently changed, by weighing and melting it down, into ingots or bars, which Mohammed Ali just as little contemns.

But “Turks:”—in this one word is included all and every answer to questions on the condition of the people. We shrug up our shoulders, and say “Turks.” Whoever has lived some time amongst them must, from the clearest conviction, confess the perfect incapacity of these Turks for advancing and civilizing the countries under their government, and their indifference to the interests, nay, even their premeditated murder of the nations infested by them. The complete depravity of the Asiatic world, even in the lifeless and powerless form of a mass dissolved in corrupt fermentation, always effervesces strongly into cruelty with the wide-spread barbarians of the East, and displays itself in bestial vices, to the disgrace of mankind and scorn of the sacred bond of nations. A truly savage nature is theirs, which, from Montenegro to the east and south, repels all western civilization, and would seek a kind of national fame by ridiculous reactions against it, as a hated and even despised foreign state of manners and life, in order to cover their nakedness and infamy, and to cloak their empty ostentation. But the Turk of Egypt is the outcast of his countryman in Turkey itself. Egypt, for example, is so decried in Albania, on account of its corruption, that the Arnaut returning from thence seldom obtains a wife, even if he have his girdle full of red gold.

The smallest portion of the white Mohammedan population, called Turks without distinction in Egypt and Ethiopia, belongs to the Albanian nation, which, on the whole, provides the Egyptian army with its best if not also with its cleverest men. This army is a mixture of heterogeneous materials, having only their religion in common, and the same slavish treatment and prospect of booty for their bond of union. If the Turk has no remains left of his ancient aptitude for conquests but the thirst of power which has accompanied his victories; a haughty contempt of the rest of the world; the belief, spread throughout the East, that European princes hold their crowns from the Sultan by feudal tenure; and a boundless presumption, which of itself would seem sufficient to destroy his dominion for ever, yet the Sultan still remains the Padishah of God’s ancient grace to his people.

This arises from the prevailing conglomeration of ideas about absolute power, and a slavery denying the rights of subjects to form themselves into an union of freemen. Thus Mohammed Ali is looked upon as an intruder, an usurper, and a tyrant, not only by the people, for he is feared, hated, and cursed even by the Turks; a circumstance which makes his position so much the more difficult, and his administration more oppressive and destructive. The whole aim of his conquests, which he has pursued with such obstinacy, is immediate enrichment at any price; a dangerous and destructive principle which animates all his wild hordes and mercenaries, since it exercises the most pernicious influence over what has been gained with a devastating hand, and in addition prepares unutterable misery which will annihilate itself at last, for the Turks, shewing no pity here, have none to expect. Thus, in my presence in Taka, thirty-two Turkish horsemen with their servants were slain at a feast given them by the Haddendas, not to mention other examples, which shew the feeling prevalent amongst the people of Ethiopia against their conquerors. Yet, as we before said, evil spirits must often serve the good against their will; so, also, Mohammed Ali must be of use to our scientific researches, although an involuntary instrument in the hands of civilisation.

The treasures which Mohammed Ali had collected with Turkish cunning and cruelty combined, threatened to be engulfed. The army and the fleet—Syria, Arabia, and Albania—in one place war, in the other military levies and plots against the Porte—disbursements in all kinds of ventures with their costly cheats and samples—manufactories and other establishments—travellers and agents to spread his fame, and give him a good European reputation—unprecedented embezzlements of the public funds, &c., and, lastly, Constantinople, that insatiable gulf and grave of the Eastern world—all these had completely exhausted his finances. There seemed but little more to be gained by him, excepting the temples and antiquities, the sale of which is not beyond the reach of possibility. Mohammed Ali was in this embarrassment, when he determined to realise the plan of immediately laying claim to the treasures of Fàzogl and Kordofàn. His Highness obtained, by paying dearly for their services, certain officers from the Austrian mining works, whose contract, however, (dated Jan. 15th, 1836, in Trieste,) was so cunningly drawn up, that it only agreed to an examination of the mountainous part of Syria, Tarsus, and Adana. In Egypt itself, however, a fresh negotiation took place, and the offers of the Viceroy, who, in his imagination, already perceived an Ethiopian gold fleet sailing down the Nile, were so tempting, that Russegger, the director of this mining expedition, accepted the invitation to go with a part of the company to Kordofàn and Fàzogl, in order to open those veins of gold from which the old Venetian ducats had been extracted.

Russegger ate, drank, and lorded it like a bey, the pay of which rank was granted to him, with a liberal board suitable to it. He made use of this profitable opportunity to ramble about Belled-Sudàn, and to write an expensive journal, which Mohammed Ali (though it must have been with a heavy heart, no treasure having been raised) honoured, like a worthy Mecænas, with his especial approbation, so that the curious world has procured a cheap work, and the author the acknowledgment due to him in his native country.

The issue, however, of the exploration for the precious metals had answered so little the expectations of the Basha, that he could not resolve to pay 30,000 Spanish dollars to the experienced Russegger to put the mine into operation in Fàzogl, as Boreani, the founder of his great guns, whom the Basha, from pure mistrust, had added as an assistant to the before-mentioned expeditition, asked only 15,000 crown thalers (about 3,094l. English) as his eventual reward. Russegger had already, as being a German, many opponents in the Italian spirits of Alexandria and Káhira, and though Boreani had far more limited acquirements, yet he knew how to anticipate the fame of discoveries, by loud boasting, (having gone through a much more extensive routine of experiments and investigations,) and knew also how to make the best of them with Mohammed Ali. Nevertheless, the Basha at last trusted neither, and determined, as soon as possible, to examine the matter himself. Thus the Viceroy, in the autumn of 1838, undertook a journey of discovery into the country of the Blacks. There were also other circumstances which made it appear desirable to the crafty old man to avoid, for some time, the diplomatists in Alexandria, and certain pressing questions of theirs. Together with this bold journey to Fàzogl, Mohammed Ali, in the summer of 1838, had decided upon a navigation of the White branch of the Nile, with the same golden object. It was on Oct. 15th of this year, that I, who had been for some time an anchorite in the deserts near Tura, and had just returned from a hunt on the ruins of Memphis, saw, from the left bank of the Nile, Abu Dagn (father of the beard), as Mohammed Ali was designated by the Fellahs standing near me, and when closer, pointed out to me as Effendina (his Excellency) steam past in his yacht, hastening away to those regions I had just so wished to visit. I had already been informed in Alexandria, over a glass of wine, by the Frigate-Capitan, Ahmed, (Baumgärtner, from Switzerland,) of the secret plan of the expedition to the White Stream (Bah’r el abiàd). I had used every exertion, and strained every nerve, to be allowed to accompany the voyage of discovery, but my endeavours were in vain, as my silence could not be confided in, being a Nazrani,—the expression of the authority most nearly concerned, as Ahmed informed me, with a shrug of the shoulders.

The scientific researches were entrusted to this Ahmed-Capitan, who had before accompanied Russegger to Belled-Sudàn, and had just returned from thence. He set out in August, and, on his arrival in Sennaar, made, in the same year, an experimental journey up the White Stream, as far as the lower island of the Shilluks. He died, however, at Khartum, in the May of the following year—before I arrived there with my younger brother—deserted by the few Franks residing there; and even at the very moment of his death, according to the usual custom of the country, they were dividing his property among themselves without scruple, and handing over the gleanings to the Divan to be sold. But the enterprise to examine the Bah’r el abiàd was delayed only a short time by the death of Baumgärtner, because the other Frigate-Capitan, Selim, was exceedingly anxious to gain alone the Turkish laurels. But the prospect of joining ourselves to the expedition seemed lost to us brothers; for we had kept this constantly in our eye, and considered it as the extent of our wishes in Africa, since through Baumgärtner’s influence we might certainly hope for a procul a fulmine.

It was on November the 16th, 1839, that I saw in Khartùm the crimson streamers of the flotilla of discovery waving up the White Stream. My heart bled at not being able to accompany it on this occasion. I was so ill and weak that I was obliged to lean against the door-post, when my brother, who was equally unwell with myself, rose up slowly from the divan, and standing behind me, made me laugh again by shaking a large medicine-bottle, with a long label, and commanding me, as my physician, to retire with a Hell el Alle! Riff! Jalla! (“Spread sails! North! Forward!”); for we were looking with eager desire towards our northern forests. This first expedition got as far as the country of the Elliabs (6° 35″ N. lat.) on January the 27th, 1840. The statements and reports giving 3° 35″ N. lat. as the point reached, rest either on false astronomical calculations, or the adventurers wished to acquire the fame of having proceeded 3° further, not supposing that any other expedition would follow to check them.

Mohammed Ali, being dissatisfied with the result of this expedition, appointed in the very same year a second voyage of discovery. Various motives have been alleged for this glorious resolution. He either wished, with respect to various ulterior views, to have a country inspected, which had pleased him so well in his journey to Fàzogl, because, among other advantages, it contains the radius of the circle of an immeasurable kingdom, whose motto is “Noli me tangere;” or he thought of opening another commercial road in the interior of Africa. Perhaps his restless and avaricious heart hoped to find a real golden fleece, with the acquisition of which—like Nero, who also ordered the sources of the Nile to be sought for—he might connect the reputation of a lover of science. Nevertheless, he has, like a true Renard the Fox, scented out his Malepartus,[1] even if he have not gone as a penitent pilgrim to Turkish Rome. There the report was spread, and believed, that the old Basha would return to Sennaar. Even Ahmed Basha, the Governor-General of the land of Sudàn, and the greatest Verres among the Bashas of Mohammed Ali, feared such an unwelcome visit in Sennaar, after the taking of St. Jean d’Acre; and the merchants of the place wished it, because money, by that means, would flow into the country.

This Ahmed Basha had also other reasons, which I will detail afterwards, for fearing such a change of residence. Nevertheless, whatever may have been the secret thoughts of Mohammed Ali, a second expedition was resolved upon in 1840, and this time I was fortunate enough to take a part in it myself. For seven months I had been present in the Taka country, in a district previously untrodden by Europeans, at a campaign opened by Ahmed Basha, against the free people of that district, who are called, as being such, Asi. That nomen is one of the words of the diplomatic language of the day, not sufficiently expressive, because it means rebels as well as free men, and reminds us besides of Asia and the godlike Asi of the North. For a long time we had our camp surrounded with palisadoes of thick palm-trees, under the wonderful granite rocks of Kaffela-el-Lus, rising up above us like a dome, to the height of more than 3.000 feet, near the village of Kadmir, in the country of the Hallengas, when orders arrived from Káhira for the second expedition. The Basha permitted me at last to accompany this highly interesting enterprise; but my brother, who was his physician in ordinary, could not share in this favour, on account of the great mortality in the camp. For three days we considered and wavered, before we resolved upon the journey, and then we mutually promised not to be always forward in exposing ourselves to danger: for separation is no trifling matter in these countries, where, from the frequent diseases, and other misfortunes, no compassion is to be expected; where neither friendship nor love, and still less gratitude, is known.

Suliman Kashef, a bold Circassian, who had commanded the first expedition, and had only been a short time with us in the camp, was nominated, according to Ahmed Basha’s statement, by Mohammed Ali himself, as the Commandant, though he is said, in the former expedition, to have been pushed forward by the mistrustful Ahmed, in order to take care of his interests, and to keep a watch on Selim-Capitan, who was sent from Alexandria. To deceive, by a demonstration, the enemy, the great nation of the Haddendas, (whose cause must be honoured as a sacred and just one, and whose great Sheikh, Mohammed Din, had been taken prisoner in a treacherous manner, and was detained in the camp,) and to open at least the road, Ahmed Basha marched with us, about two miles and a quarter, as far as the village of Huàthi, where we had to cross a large mountainous torrent. The spies sent out by Mohammed Ehle, the Sheikh of the Hallengas, came back the second time, and declared that the forest on the other side was free from Arabs (Arab plural Urbàn), as they judged by the footsteps, which all turned to the north. In this manner Suliman Kashef and the Shaïgiën leader, Melek Hammed, and myself, left the camp, which was threatened far and wide by more than 100,000 hostile lances. Having good guides preceding us, we pushed through Gohr-el-Gash, (Gohr, pass of the floods, or wild path of tropical cataracts,) the dry and hitherto sandy bed of which was full of water, 4,000 feet deep, arising from the periodical rains, pouring down from the lofty chain of mountains of Makada (Habesh), that lay before us, and crossed, without any accident, a chain of sand-banks, which Baraká, the overflowing arm of the Gohr, forms below Huàthi. This Baraká springs in the north-eastern alpine chain of Habesh, and, as trustworthy persons, amongst others, the Kadhi of the Hallengas, have assured us, flows towards the west, through the mountainous countries of Kostàn and Mària, then separates into two branches, of which one runs by Suakin eastwards into the Red Sea, and the other takes its course through Beni-Amer westward, and divides itself again at Sadderath, a day’s journey to the east of Kaffela, and then flows into the Gash. On the contrary, this great Gohr comes from the north-west mountains of Habesh, and pursues its principal direction through the countries, or mountainous regions of Hamassein, Dembalass, Belga, and Basa, to the group of rocks of Kaffela-el-Lus, where it runs to the north, and is said to lose itself, or else it forms the Mogren, which appears to me also to be a Gohr. These Gohrs afford sufficient water during the hot season, when their beds seem quite dry, to the various tribes, with whom we partly came in contact, and who may be the remains of some ruined nations that have fled to the mountains. When they require water for themselves and their cattle, they make in the bed of the Gohr a hole, not very deep, in the sand, till they come to a layer of blue clay, and they draw the water, that springs forth immediately, so far down that the animals cannot reach it, into peculiar round cisterns, which they place close to the hole, and which form flat basins of half a foot or a foot deep, and six to ten feet in diameter. These basins are kneaded with clay to make them solid and compact, and then the cattle drink out of them. Such watering-places are indispensable near the springs, which, notwithstanding the basin-shaped depression of this whole country, are of a great depth, on account of the alluvial soil. In these situations we find not only birds which are scarcely seen anywhere except in the neighbourhood of water, but also the elephant, rhinoceros, giraffe, hyæna, and the lion with his family. They not only leave water behind in cisterns for this great and dreaded lord of beasts, but they also draw it afterwards, in order to detain him, that they may fetch him tender fresh calves-flesh from their houses, which is here his favourite food, as I convinced myself in Beshum, in the country of the Haddendas. It is a fable that the elephant dislikes the camel: I saw them both at Hauàthi drinking in the middle of the day, close to one another, out of two different holes. The elephant is said to be angry with the people if he find the cistern, from which he is accustomed to drink, choked up with earth by the wind or animals, and to attack the nearest village (as was the case some time since in Hauàthi), to overthrow everything he meets, to clear out the water-vessels, and not even to disdain the corn he may happen to find.

Ahmed Basha could not spare any troops for our protection, on account of his being pressed so closely by the enemy. There were about sixty of us, including the mounted halberdiers of Suliman Kashef, who carried arms, besides unarmed servants, male and female slaves. The excellent light cavalry of the Shaïgiës, under the command of the bold Melek Mahmud, accompanied us only a short distance. These Shaïgiës are not at all of Arabian origin; they call themselves “Warriors of old of the soil,” and are still held memorable, even as knights, through their really daring and adventurous plundering excursions in these parts.

We worked our way over heavy and untrodden roads, whilst the Shaïgiës wound right and left through the thicket, like snakes, and covered our flanks. We passed through the Haba (forest; in this place, swampy forest), which it is well known is so dreaded by the Turks, and fortunately reached the high swollen Atbara near Gos Rajeb after three days’ and three nights’ hard riding, having been obliged to leave behind many animals, especially horses, which had fallen from exhaustion on the bad roads, and from the want of sufficient fodder. I perceived that the Turks congratulated themselves on leaving behind them their Silva Hercynia, in which Mohammed Din with his Haddendas, though only armed with lances, had twice defeated Kurdshid Basha.

In vain we looked about here for the ships, which, in case of an unfortunate issue of the campaign, were ordered from Berber to communicate with the shore; but there was not a plank to be seen, as the requisite northern winds had not set in to enable them to sail against the strong current of Atbara. No sooner had the haughty Sheikh Hadàb remarked this than he, who had strongly asserted that the ships would be here, looked about very uneasily, and slipped away from the side of Suliman Kashef into a bush, giving me a significant look as he passed, and had nearly disappeared when Suliman Kashef took up his long gun. The Basha had but lately, from his own absolute power, advanced him to be the great Sheikh of Sogilàb, and by that means had gained partisans in the family. He had accompanied us as a guide from the commencement of our journey to this place in a very dirty dress, and had all along assured us that we should have a strong encampment of his Kabyles at our side, although he had only provided some bread, but no fodder for the beasts, which were completely disabled and obliged to live merely on the trees, and with which we were obliged to cross a rapid stream. As he had been created a Sheikh by the Basha (Sheikh betal Divan), he was exceedingly hated by the two other Kabyles of Sogilàb; and I, who knew him well, watched him, lest he should play us any treacherous trick. He was soon afterwards shot with a pistol, in the middle of his people, in the village of Sogilàb, by one of our Magrabis (Mogrebins), who had been sent for the purpose, without his death being avenged or the Magrab being punished by the Basha.

On a signal-gun being repeated, a small boat appeared, similar in size and construction to a moderate fishing-cauf. We saw men plunge from the left shore into the flood, and this cauf became animated with human beings from Gos Rajeb: soon afterwards the bold swimmers landed, having been carried here and there by the current. A strong arm grasped, at my feet, the root of the tree affording me shade: “Oh, uahet sheïtàn keweiss!” (“Oho, a fine ghost!”) said my huntsman Sale, whilst he held my pipe under my nose, and gave a horse-laugh. A woman’s breast, just disclosed from under her ringlets, and confiding in heaven, appeared first on the top of the waters, and then dived back again. Shaking off my lassitude, I threw myself upon the ground to offer an assisting hand to the poor creature. A nut-brown Amazon, of the clearest complexion, a true picture of most luxuriant youthful strength and vigour, stood naked up to her dripping rahat (girdle of strips of leather) upon the end of my carpet. Throwing off from her head the Ferda (a long cotton cloth with ornamental borders, worn by all these people of both sexes, and exactly the same as those found in the Egyptian tombs), she smoothed it, slung it round her hips over the right shoulder and the head, soundly rated Sale, and then ran away laughing because I understood her Aggem, (heathen language, or rather what is not Arabic,) uttered by her deep hoarse voice, as little as she my Arabic cur, quomodo, quando. Recovering from this unexpected fright, I followed her, and learned that these Bishari had come from the Kabyles of Wood Naga, on the Atbara, for the purpose of conveying across our cattle. The wildly beautiful damsel had grown up from a child in this employment, which was her greatest pleasure. Stronger and bolder than any of her nearest relations, she had lost her voice by lying in the damp in her night-quarters on the shore, expecting for some time the retreat of the army, said to be nearly annihilated, for the sake of the profit (four piastres or girsh, about one shilling,) on every camel and horse.

The old boat, which had been concealed out of fear of the rapacious Haddendas, and had become leaky, was drained of the water, after it became certain that there were no other vessels near. This tribe of the Haddendas is always at war with all the neighbouring races. The Haddendas, whose territory here borders on the right shore of the Atbara, above the equally marauding Anafidabs, swim over in a small daring body, take very coolly the vessels from the left side which are to transport the people waiting on the right shore to pillage and murder, and then hasten back with the booty so much the more securely.

Suliman Kashef invited me to cross over immediately with him, but I could not venture to entrust my collections and camels to the thoughtless and timid servants; I therefore remained behind, and by his directions ordered durra, the corn of this country, for the exhausted animals, and bread, or rather flour, and meat as supper for myself and my men. We had already, at Gohr el Gash, beaten the camels to make them go into the water, and yet there were others sent before to set them a good example; but here it was far worse, for there was a depth of from forty to fifty feet to swim in.

The beautifully hunchbacked camels from Beni-Amer were abused as being hashim (stupid, silly), because they feared the water. Water-skins were inflated and fastened to the breasts of these animals, which were driven before us in a drove, with as much trouble as those that bore burdens and were tired. The guides, holding the long halters or ropes, plunged into the Atbara before them, and curses, cries, pushes, and the unmerciful Nabùt (a stick four feet long and an inch thick) assisted in sending the camels after them. Several of the animals, and also three or four horses, from Taka, which had no opportunity of learning to swim, for the beasts at the time of the inundation are driven into the Gallas, or elevated parts, were drowned, without their loss being mourned, except by the owners. On the march to Taka, we had here in the month of March nearly ridden through, dryfooted, on pebbly ground, where we now, in September, found the Atbara a powerful mountain stream. A motley mixture were we, of about 20,000 men, white and black cavalry (Turks, Magrabis, and Shaïgiës), dromedaries, and pack-camels, and more than 4,000 asses for the infantry, which, when they heard the numerous hyænas or lions prowling about their confined quarters, struck up a horrible concert. Two field-pieces, moreover, alternately drawn by mules and camels trained for the purpose, chests containing 3,000 axes for cutting through the forests, and a quantity of powder upon the camels, which, though piled up very equally between numerous fires, “Alla Kerim,” did not trouble us in the least. Yet I must not here speak of that campaign, and narrate the scenes and recollections that obtrude themselves on my mind, but I intend to publish them as they are set down in the journal I had with me on that occasion. Fodder and provisions arrived as I had ordered; that portion of the train which still remained on this side commended my advice, and determined, as darkness was coming on, to pass the night on the right shore. After I had discovered a clear place quite close, we left the bush and lay down there, to be secure, and to protect ourselves from being struck with a lance to the ground before we could even fire a shot. In a short time several little fires blazed, and there was cooking, roasting, and baking of pancakes and bread. I slept, in the meantime, behind the barricade of my chests, in order to keep watch during the night with the Circassians and Turks. Notwithstanding we were all very tired, I was fully persuaded that those Muslims would watch, as they had brought with them as slaves some pretty brown girls, whom they had purchased in the camp of Kassela, out of the booty of Mount Basa. The following day we crossed over to the other side. My Hamàl, or camel-servant, Hammed, took his great favourite camel himself by the rope and swam before it; but he soon returned back to me disconsolate, for his murkeb (ship), as he called it, caught by the strong current, had broken the cord, which was made of the bark of a tree, just as he had found a favourable resting-place upon a sand-bank close by. Nevertheless, he trusted every thing to the size and sagacity of his beast, and immediately disappeared from my side. On the following evening I saw him again in Gos Rajeb, but without murkeb. I voluntarily belonged to the last party that crossed,—two old Turks, a Kurd, and myself with my servants. On the moment of pushing off, some Arabs sprang on my chests, but the tall stout Kurd, whom Suliman Kashef had sent over to me as a Charon that might be entirely depended upon, struck two of them into the water at the same time with his oar as if with a flyflap, by which the miserable skiff was nearly upset. At the head of this boat sat the Kurd in great state, in shirt and breeches; on the luggage was enthroned Sale from Mahass, his ferda thrown loose over his shoulders, enjoying himself on merissa (a kind of beer). At my feet squatted the Turks upon the wet planks, in full dress, with heavy pistols in their girdles; behind them, on the brim of the obtuse stern, I had my place, dressed in a light gauze shirt, so that if the wind came on and threatened to drown the others, I might not, in case of necessity, be looked upon and seized as a raft. Certainly this Kurd, who was very much relied on for his skill on the water, had assured me, on his head, that I might, in case of an accident, ride upon him, as upon a river buffalo (gamùss el Bah’r—hippopotamus); but I preferred to depend on myself, and the more so, because the Atbara is not broader than the Rhine at Bonn. The Turks said their prayers, shook their heads involuntarily at every stroke of the oar, to which they calmly resigned themselves as their directing fate; for this vibrating motion of the turbans, which are set generally on decayed vertebral columns, always takes place, especially in steam-vessels. My corpulent hippopotamus, the Kurd, laughed and made fun at them whilst moving round the sand-banks and along the steep broken shore, without their answering him a single word.

Gos Rajeb means the Hill of Rajeb, from a Sheikh or saint, who first settled here. Though only appearing to our eyes a village, yet it is esteemed in this country as an important commercial city, the inhabitants of which are partly merchants from the Nile, and partly Nomads of the family of the Shukuriës, Bisharis, and others. The latter have renounced the rights of their race (gens, genus), and left their peculiar alliance (Kabyle, from Kab’l); being, like other wild animals who have been caught, dressed and also protected by the halo of their founder. But their Sheikh asserts that the old stock of the inhabitants is an indigenous people of the soil from the earliest times (min aslu).

I lay there, towards evening, upon an angareb (a convenient bedstead, made of thongs of camel-skin twisted cross or check wise), and looked back towards the two rocky hills of Herrèrem, on the other side of the river, where last night might have proved a bad one to us. These rocks with their magnificent ruins had deceived us brothers before, in the same manner as they did the learned Burckhardt, for the here commonly called “Kenisse betal Kuf’r” (Church of Kafirs or Unbelievers) composes chief of the fore part, so that we climbed up with much labour. Moreover, the City of the Nazrani (Christians), said (according to the statement of the Sheikh who accompanied me at this time, by command of the Basha, from Gos Rajeb,) to have been larger than Masr (Káhira), might have been very extensive, as I convinced myself by the tombs, and especially the foundation-walls of cities, and burnt masses on the north-east of Herrèrem; so that the word Kenisse, which is here only applied to a Christian monument, is not without significance in the mouth of the people. The market, as we see at the time of the greatest height of the water, points also directly to this uninhabited spot, as an ancient emporium between the tribes of the inner countries and the Red Sea. On our present arrival at the Atbara, I had remarked, about an hour’s walk to the south of this rock, some three hundred paces from the right bank, not only tombs and tiles, but also a tolerably large though low shelf of rocks, of an oblong form, the sides of which shewed niches and cavities seemingly made by the hands of men. I had just tied my obstinate dromedary to a tree to graze, and had turned my back to him, when he broke loose and started after the team, which had trotted before; whereupon, the completely exhausted Archæologist no longer surveyed his little Acropolis without pillars and temples, but ran after him, and forgot everything.

Suliman Kashef, reclining also on an angareb, overhung with a magnificent Persian carpet, presided like an incipient Basha, over a divan placed at his feet, of mats made from palm-leaves, on which there sat some inhabitants of Gos, and the neighbouring Sheikhs. A silver drinking-cup passed from his hand to mine, and again to his, whilst the Sheikhs were looking as if interrogating one another, and my Circassian neighbour became more and more talkative. We drank wine which a merchant of my acquaintance had brought with other provisions thus far, though he did not dare to press forward to the camp. “Dauer!” (medicine), said the Kashef, with averted countenance, and his face of the colour of japan, when a fellow, attempting to be witty, shewed a desire to drink with him. In the very same moment, he exclaimed “Shuff el Marassin” (Look at the pimp! or bad fellow.) The Haddendas announced their tardy arrival at the Atbara, by setting fire to some hundred tokuls (plural tàkela,—straw-huts formed like a cross with pointed roofs), which Ahmed Basha had ordered to be erected for the cavalry.

The further narration of the journey to Khartum (to which place we arrived in a westerly direction across the country of ancient Meroë, and through the wide extended, treeless, but excellent pasture-land of Butàna and over Halfaia,) I withhold for the present for the description of my later expedition to the much spoken of, but hitherto only visited by me, Mandera, Nasùb, Kheli, &c., in the south-eastern part of Meroë. In Halfaia, which may be called a city from the castles of earth or clay (Kasr, called by the Baràbras Hosh a castle) of poor petty kings (Moluk, sing. Melek or Mek), who are robbed by the Turks, and extremely badly, or not at all pensioned, Suliman Kashef left us in order to cross over to the neighbouring Kárreri to see his family. So also did Melek Hammed, who was generally reckoned the bravest among the so-called Shaïgiës. He was the son of Wu-Mahmùd, the last king or toparch of Dongola, who was murdered by the Memlukes (Mamelik). We were great cronies, and I was sorry for him when the Basha sent him away from the camp; because, by his unfortunate attempt to connect himself and the men under his command with the well-known Nim’r, he had given grounds for being dreaded the most of all the Shaïgiës. It is incredible how extensive the knowledge of this robber-king was with respect to the details of the topography of the whole country,: these are, as it were, family secrets, which are only disclosed, as a particular favour, over the goblet.

The sight of the Nile had already rejoiced my heart at Halfaia, but this was still more the case at Hubba, opposite Khartùm, where I became accurately acquainted with the border of the blue river. I learnt to value its extraordinary height so much the more, because it promised to be exceedingly favourable to our voyage of discovery to the level of the White Stream. We fired off our muskets, and let the camels lie down, when our shots were answered from the windows of the divan, or the house of the Basha. The Chasnadar (treasurer and steward of the Basha) had recognized me with a telescope, and had sent me immediately a comfortable vessel belonging to the great man. Every one hurried to Hubba to receive intelligence from the seat of war; and it was plain to be seen that the people would rather have heard of Ahmed Basha’s being with the devil than coming to Khartùm.

The east wind soon brought us to the other side. I, for my part, slipped away under the narrow trellised windows of the Harim, where I heard women’s voices calling “Hakim Bashi” “Hakim Bashi,” to the lower part of the great earthern palace, where they pulled me in through the window—so that I had not to make a great circuit—on account of the water which had overflowed. If I was not exactly among old friends, yet I was again among acquaintances who, at least, appeared to be pleased at seeing me, and who, with one voice, asked after the Hakim Bashi Yussuf, my brother, who was very much missed in Khartùm, and whom they were accustomed to see always with me. But there sat again Suliman Kashef behind the wine-flask of the Basha, in the jolliest humour, laughing and boasting what he had done in the meantime, and yet that he had arrived before me. A profuse breakfast was served, at which also Selim-Capitan was present, who was forced to drink some wine. The great guns were fetched, and, being placed at the windows, thundered out the announcement that it was a Turkish rejoicing. In order also to deceive the people, orders were given to fire the cannons, which was done without delay, we being looked upon as messengers of victory. Abdalla Effendi, the Wakil or deputy of the governor, came in at this alarum, greeted us, and wished us joy of the victory at Taka; but, as a worthy Moslem, he soon withdrew his potent nose, that he might escape for a time the scandal of drinking wine. At last there appeared on the scene another godly person, of the purest breed, whose heart burned to hear tidings of the Effendi—whom may the Prophet protect! (Ahmed Basha also bears, like all great dignitaries, the title of Effendina, in Turkish Effendim or excellency, and the great Basha, Mohammed Ali, is then for distinction called Effendina Kebir.) This was the great Kadi and Bishop of Belled-Sudan, who was the only one before whom the Basha, who was just of as pure blood, rose from the divan, and permitted to sit on his right hand close to his ear. The great man, as the master, having once taken, remained in his seat, which looked towards the principal door of the hall, and allowed him to place his legs under him conveniently. Turkish etiquette is carried to a great extent, and requires a kind of study.

We two slightly saluted each other by bending forward the right shoulder, because the Basha, shortly before the march to Taka, had called me and my brother his right and left eye, which saying he was obliged to repeat here, in order to excuse his friendship towards Kafirs. Conscious of his dignity, the high-priest sat down upon the place of honour in the corner of the reception-room, at the right hand as you enter. In the great audience-hall of the Basha, this elevated seat of honour is over the divàn, covered with a red or blue velvet cloth with gold or silver embroidery, and deeply fringed, with low pillows set round it; but there are days when scarcely a Mohammed Ali, or the Sultan himself, is allowed to sit upon this, or any of the seats in the public divàn. The word Divàn signifies not only the broad sofa running round the wall, or the sitting of a ministerial council, but every sitting on business transactions and conversation in council, as well as the hall and even the building in which this takes place, and also the reception-room in private houses. The servants in attendance had been dismissed, but the Kadhi, who being a Magarb, knew wine, and had himself in our house praised the Spanish as the best. He had, moreover, not disdained a cordial made of the same by my brother, which he took as a stomachic medicine, but pretended now not to know anything of the new Turkish labour in the vineyard of the Lord in conspectu omnium, and only gazed upon the Chasnadàr with his cunning eyes. The latter, a Circassian, who had grown up in the service of Ahmed, went into a room close by, and brought the poor man a golden or gilded kupa with a cover; whereupon the grand inquisitor sipped his refreshing draught with much goût, carefully covered again the vessel and placed it close by him at the window. The Chasnadàr, who, close to me, was arranging himself in his place, said, in his excitement, much louder than was necessary, “el Spitzbub kebir,” and clapped his hands for the servants. The Kadhi Kebir had received this name at the suggestion of the Basha, when the latter, just as the Kadhi left him, asked us how a misaur is called by the Nemzas; and my brother immediately answered Spitzbub (rogue), which those close around the Basha received with real ecstasy. However, Misaur means properly a talkative fellow,—ergo, a liar and knave;—Faki, or Fakir misaur, denotes a hypocrite or lying priest, the number of whom here is legion in proportion to the population, by whom the Faki (plural Fokra) are not generally held in esteem. The Kadhi did not concern himself about this title of honour, but, with the utmost tranquillity, drank his champagne out of the ciborium, in pious draughts.

Nevertheless every thing was soon prepared for the departure of the expedition. The north and north-east winds, although not constant, as is usually the case at the beginning of November, and which generally commence here after the rainy season, had invited us for a long time to take advantage of the high water, that threatened to engulf Khartùm at the end of September from both sides of the river. Nothing was wanting except the arrival of the two French engineers, who squatted two-and-forty days in Korusko, because Arnaud would not pay temporarily, out of his own pocket, for the hire of some camels, which they required over the number allowed to them in the Firman or teskerè, to convey their baggage through the desert.

Sabatier, the younger of the Frenchmen, confessed to us, without disguise, that he, for his part, could not have paid for the camels, as he had already borrowed money from his colleague, Arnaud, before they reached Korusko; and he accused the latter of having unjustifiably delayed his journey, for the purpose of putting off the expedition till the following year, and to pocket the pay of a bimbaschi (major) during the interval, in spite of their beards. This is quite consistent with the character drawn of him by his own countrymen and the Franks. Eternal regret for the lost forty-two days! Without this delay, our voyage might have had quite a different result.

• 1 General form of the Tokuls in Bellet-Sudàn.
• 2 Tokuls of the Shilluks.
• 3 Tokuls of the Dinkas.
• 4 Tokuls of the Nuèhrs.
• 5 Summer-huts of the Kèks (pastoral dwellings of reeds).
• 6 Sleeping stall.
• 7 Tokuls of the Keks, also partly of the Bòhrs.
• 8 Tokuls of the Elliàbs.
• 9 Tokuls in the kingdom of Bàri (of the Bàris, Chiers, and Lièns).

CHAPTER II.

COMPOSITION OF THE EXPEDITION. — AHMED BASHA; HIS CHARACTER. — SCENE BETWEEN MOHAMMED ALI AND SHEIKH SULIMAN OF ROSSÈRES. — SLAVE TRADE AND SLAVE HUNTS. — SULIMAN EFFENDI, THE SICILIAN POISONER. — DEATH OF MUSTAPHA BEY. — VAISSIÈRE AND THE EUROPEANS IN EGYPT. — PUCKLER MUSCAU. — AHMED BASHA’S WIFE. — DESCRIPTION OF KHARTÙM. — BLUE AND WHITE NILE. — DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.

Khartùm, 23 Nov. 1840. The engineers have long since arrived, and at last, in spite of all the assumption and threats of Arnaud, whose intention of wilfully delaying the expedition could not be denied, and the motive of which is sufficiently shewn by Sabatier’s explanation, the Turks themselves determined to set out to-day. They were impelled to this activity by Ahmed Basha’s having given the strictest orders to make all despatch, “so that another expedition chargeable solely to the treasury of this place might not be necessary, as was perhaps the intention of the Franks.”

The equipment consists of four dahabiës from Káhira (vessels with two masts and cabins, about one hundred feet long, and twelve to fifteen broad), each with two cannon; three dahabiës from Khartùm (one of which has also two cannon); then two kaiàss (ships of burden with one mast), and a sándal (skiff) for communication: the crews are composed of two hundred and fifty soldiers (negroes, Egyptians, and Syrians), and one hundred and twenty sailors and mariners from Alexandria, Nubia, and the land of Sudan. Suliman Kashef, although without rank in the army, commands the troops by the absolute will of the Basha, as he had done before in a Chasua at Taka. Selim-Capitan from Crete has the direction of the ships and properly of the whole expedition;[2] the second captain is Feïzulla Effendi from Constantinople. The other officers are two Kurds, a Russian, an Albanian, and a Persian; the Europeans are Arnaud and Sabatier as engineers, Thibaut as collector, and I as an independent passenger at my own expense. Arnaud has yielded also to circumstances, notwithstanding his parole d’honneur that he would not go with us, unless his salary for ten or twelve months were paid beforehand. The ships are furnished with ten months’ provisions, and six months’ pay has been advanced to preserve in some measure from perishing of hunger the families of the soldiers left behind, which from the low price of female slaves were numerous. The officers and the other persons holding appointments have received the Taïm belonging to them in money (the different nations according to their grade), owing to the want of rice, wheat, lupins, lentils, onions, butter and oil, meat and bread, so that they might make what purchases they pleased, or stow it in their kammer (money-pouch) according to the manner of oriental misers, and let the neighbouring stomach feed on common soldier’s fare, and console itself with the prospect of good days to come. An indemnification has been given in tobacco and onions, even to the common people, for the articles of the taïm, deficient in the victualling magazine, which could not well be realized until they arrived at Belled-Sudàn.

Ahmed Basha takes very good care of his soldiers, according to Turkish notions, and pays them regularly, because his very existence, which is menaced on every side, and the realization of his ambitious plans, depend upon their fidelity.

Regiments of black slaves, being the born enemies of the Arabs, are said to support him more resolutely than all his other troops; and, as he affirms, in case of necessity, they feed on grass, and have performed miracles of bravery in his presence, in Mora (the Morea) and in the Hejaz. On this account, the idea struck him in Taka of making up an amount of 5,000 slaves, and allotting this duty pro rata among the superior Sheïkhs and officers. On this occasion, ten slaves were imposed even on Selim-Capitan, which he was obliged to furnish, although he was not in Ahmed Basha’s service.

I first gained the dangerous confidence of this man in its full extent by the following means:—He found himself here entirely alone, as if in banishment; and when we were conversing about the people and the country, with its abundant resources which were not taken advantage of, and how Kurdshid Basha had conducted affairs here, and dragged everything to the devouring Masr, and left nothing remaining to him, he wished to know my opinion. I pointed out to him repeatedly, and without reserve, the independence of Egypt, and the plundering system carried on by the government of that country and—my conviction being that he should follow the example of the Basha—I sought to instigate him to render himself independent at the head of this oppressed and discontented people, and to call himself Sultan of Nigritia. It was clear to me that this was not the first time since our acquaintance that he had brooded over the idea, which he opposed with seemingly plausible, but long-considered scruples. His sleepless nights, during which old Deli Mustapha was obliged to make coffee for him four or five times, were now explained; but I did not at that time know that he was mortally hated there, where he believed he was beloved, and that in spite of his fine speeches, he was called the executioner of the Land of Sudàn. I might therefore awaken in the country, from the great aversion of the grandees of the place to him, the desire for a declaration of independence, but never for Ahmed himself. I will bring forward some examples from the conduct of this execrable man, to shew how the Turks make their countries happy.

Ahmed Basha was brought as a Memluke (white slave) from Circassia to Egypt, and sold to Mustapha Bey, sister’s son of Mohammed Ali’s first wife. He became the barber of the Bey, and afterwards, when his own beard grew, was appointed an officer in the army. He accompanied the campaigns in the Morea, Hejàz and Syria. He brought intelligence of the victory from St. Jean d’Acre with incredible celerity to Egypt, and is said to have been attacked with hemorrhage, as he was delivering the despatches to Mohammed Ali. He afterwards became war-minister, but was removed in six months from this important post, not on account of any incapacity, but from his self-willed disposition, inveterate obstinacy, and excessive spirit of opposition to all the grandees, and even to the viceroy himself, who might have been pleased on the whole with his energetic government. His iron arm threatened even to bend the Franks in the Egyptian service under Turkish despotism, and he had already brought the consuls into a good train, when one of them declared that the Turks had no code of laws, that the Koran could not be considered as such, and that the employés being Europeans could not be subjected to arbitrary power. For a time he remained without an appointment in Káhira, till he was sent with the 8th regiment to Belled-Sudan. For a year he governed in common with Kurdshid Basha, during which time he carried his intrigues so far, that the Governor, who was generally beloved, was recalled, and sent as Commandant to Adana in Syria, whilst the former received his post as Governor-General with increased power. Here he preserves, indeed, his own due respect and that of his people, in the hope of being made the future Sultan of the natives; yet, by his measures, he has not only trifled away the love of those men who are so easily led by their chiefs, but also completely cut off his return to Egypt, where, in the meantime, a book of his crimes has been opened.

He is a man of fifty years of age, though in appearance he seems scarcely forty; large and strongly built, with regular, handsome and expressive features, generally wearing a serious look, though he laughs a good deal. Whilst he is laughing, which is at his command at any time, we may often observe in his handsome countenance traces of agitation, betraying other thoughts than those inspired by the gaiety of the moment. His physiognomy becomes still more disfigured by his outbursts of wrath, which are not rare, when his true character is more rapidly developed in the working of his features than by all the chiselling and carving of the Gorgon’s head. His blue eyes stare and sparkle in his deadly pale countenance, and his inmost soul reflects itself in its real light, at this moment, as if in a mirror—it is the face of a tiger. Every one, seeing him for the first time, finds him a handsome man, but with something inexpressibly gloomy in his look, and in the melancholy features shaded by a dark beard. Ahmed Basha is a true economist in every thing, and boasts of his parsimony, (which, however, unfortunately degenerates into avarice,) saying, it is extremely necessary for him;—that he requires a good deal of money for present occasions, and will want more for the future;—and that Mohammed Ali has only become great through his gold;—every means, therefore, is justifiable by which he can acquire wealth. His table is sparingly served; he does not touch the sweet favourite dishes of the Turks, as being fit for women and not for men; he hates the Turks and calls them asses. Therefore he is always complaining that he stands alone, that everything presses upon him, which is the truth, because every one fears him and dares not speak. For his whole large establishment, with the exception of the Harim, one sheep is killed daily; whereas, on the contrary, Kurdshid had twelve or fourteen killed; and what was not consumed was divided amongst the poor starving people—a custom more worthy of a civil and military Governor of all Belled-Sudàn; especially as the Turks and wealthy Arabs—the latter, however, seldom, partly from fear of the former—feed the poor abundantly. Besides money was obliged to be sent very often from Egypt to Belled-Sudàn for the support of the troops; moreover, all the gold which was drawn from Fàzogle and Kordofàn, and coined in Kahira, was paid; for the preceding Governor complained continually of his empty chest. Ahmed Basha knew how to provide himself with gold, since he would never lose sight of his own interest. I heard from him in Taka of the bombarding and surrender of St. Jean d’Acre, which intelligence was kept secret. He feared for his position; and his plan of making himself independent received a severe blow, since Ibrahim Basha might suddenly march with his disposable army, and attempt a diversion on this side.

The just Governor sent to his dear sovereign 4,000 purses, the surplus of the treasury; and to shew the good old man what his Ahmed could do in the country, 1500 gold okien as a present. Besides this, he had had considerable expenses, had paid one-half of the soldiers more than Kurdshid Basha, had purchased thousands of camels and asses for the Chasua, for the purpose of transport, &c. One would conclude from this, that under this Basha, a complete reform of the system of government, and a flourishing condition of the land, had rendered these supplies of money and gold possible, but the surplus must be sought for in other causes than in the prosperous state of the country.

If the direct taxes be very irregularly paid through the conduct of the Kashefs (plur. Koshàf), Ahmed Basha has a number of other means by which to squeeze gold out of the people. Inheritances, where the testator is set aside, and, if necessary, some crime fixed on him; despotic dictation of tributes in money or gold; farming monopolies; selling fruits from the Shona, or the farms of the Basha; net-proceeds of the slave-hunts, &c.

In selling the fruits and farming the monopolies, the price is generally raised only in appearance by accomplices, and then in a very courteous manner the affair is hinted first to one and then to the other, who, in gratitude for the gracious punishment, raise their hands to their mouth and head, well knowing that even the latter belongs to the Basha, who commonly presides over such forced broker’s business.

It is not a very rare thing for Sheikhs who cannot raise the quantum of gold so arbitrarily imposed, to breathe out their souls under the Nabút. A favourite plan of his, pursuing the same aim, and having an apparent legal ground in itself, is the arrangement of his iron will according to the investigations to be directed towards powerful Kashefs, who do not deliver to him the half of their plunder, or towards honest officials, whom he hates, and whose places he has already beforehand sold to others, when he is certain of the share of the precious gain, which is made on collecting the Tulba. These profitable investigations are especially directed against officers who have the management of the accounts. A fresh revision of their accounts, which perhaps were delivered twelve to fifteen years ago, was entered upon for the second time, and, as he partly made it alone, or by his creatures appointed and assigned for that purpose, or when he thought it advisable, he ordered a bastinadoing for life or death, it has never happened that the people selected for payment were found guiltless.

Enormous sums have been squeezed out in this barbarous manner, and hundreds of men plunged into misery and extreme poverty; for Ahmed was not contented with falsifying the accounts of years long past, and having them liquidated.—No; but he punished them also for their falsely alleged embezzlements. Not one of these unfortunate creatures had the least thing left to him, except a miserable dress—everything belonging to them was sold—house, garden, slaves, clothes, kitchen utensils, in short, to repeat the word, everything—even the most necessary carpets and coverings for repose. The proceeds flowed into the treasury of the Divan.

It is true, that nearly all the Turkish officials are cheats and extortioners, only seeking to enrich themselves in every possible way, and to defraud the State, as even the best conduct affords no security for the duration of their appointments; but let justice be done to them, and do not, because the Basha gives the order, find the culprits guilty. Generally, the sum pretended to have been embezzled, was twice or four times as large as the whole property of the official. In this case, everything was taken that there was to take, and if the man were wanted, he remained in his service, but received for his pay scarcely as much as would provide him sparingly with durra; the remaining part, being deducted on account of his debt, flowed into the treasury.

In other instances the accomplices were ordered to replace the deficient amount. Among these were reckoned those who perhaps formerly were his superior officers, or his colleagues, and fellow-collectors; and this judgment always followed, when Copts were his accomplices. In the whole Egyptian kingdom the Copts (Kopt, or Oept, as they do not pronounce the K to our ear,) are condemned to be the Mallems (scribes). The Basha cherishes a cordial hatred of these Nazrani, partly because he detests their cringing servility and hypocrisy, which are carried to perfection, and looks upon them, on this account, with the same contempt as he does on the Greeks and Jews. Many of them are hanged, merely to spread terror.

Not long ago the following incident occurred: a Coptic Mallem was convicted in the manner stated above, of having purloined 1000 thalers[3] or pillar dollars at different times. He received 1000 blows, and all his things were sold, the produce of which covered the sum due, leaving a few hundred dollars over. The unfortunate fellow, after this fearful punishment, was thrown, more dead than alive, into chains, and they left him to his fate, without sending him a surgeon to afford him the least alleviation, by attending to his severe wounds. The Basha went on a journey; his wakil, Fàragh Effendi, an Abyssinian, who had been formerly a slave to the Spanish Colonel, Seguerra, in Alexandria, took pity on him, and sent for the surgeon, Sulimon Effendi (De Pasquali, a native of Palermo). He passed three months in prison in this frightful condition, when Fàragh Effendi thought he might solicit the Basha to pardon the Copt. The answer of Ahmed Basha was to this effect: “The Nazrani must be hanged, to serve as an example.”

Everyone at Khartùm was astonished, and the more so, because no one doubted his innocence. A gibbet was quickly erected at the market-place, and on the following morning the unfortunate creature was hanging,—as Faragh Effendi told me the story,—with a placard, written in large letters, on his back, and his feet scarcely half a foot from the ground. All the Copts, notwithstanding the calamity, were exceedingly rejoiced that he had not professed Islamism before his death, but had died stedfastly as a Nazrani. The Turks and Arabs are just as strenuous in their exertions to make proselytes as the expensive European missionaries, without immediately descending in thunder with their Prophet, as with a Deus ex machiná, from high Olympus. The cruelty of this Basha is said to have gone so far in Dongola that he wanted to force the son of a Copt to witness the execution of the sentence of death on his innocent father; but, luckily, the father died the night before.

In Khartùm, the young Sheikh Effendi (mallem, or Turkish scribe) received an order to revise the account of the Nasir of the linen Shunah. He, being yet a novice in these affairs, and not knowing that the word of the Basha “to investigate” must be always connected with “guilty,” goes to him, and says that it is quite correct; but the latter quickly sends the good youth back again to make another investigation. Sheikh Effendi returns, and says, that the “man is innocent:” the Basha calls him eshek (ass), sends him a very large and long piece of cotton-stuff as the standard measure, and commands him to make good the account, or else he would indemnify himself out of the Sheikh’s own property. Sheikh Effendi was therefore forced to take this great Top Homàss as the measure, when of course an enormous deficit appeared; for, amongst the goods sent in by several tribes of the Arabs, are included woollen stuffs made in the country for the dress of soldiers, for sails, tents, &c., and there is mostly a difference of one to two ells (drà, arm’s-length) between these pieces. This was now extended back to all the years in which the fellow had been Nasir, and the man was entirely ruined.

Except the punishment of beating to death, which causes as little sensation here as in Russia, public executions are not so frequent in Khartùm itself, where his presence alone creates terror; but the secret ones are performed without the cord and the sword. The following may serve as a proof of the condition of this grievously afflicted country:—When Mohammed Ali was travelling over Sennaar, the old Sheikh Suliman of Rossères, the most esteemed and influential man of Gesira (island, Sennaar) was forced to pay his respects to him in the city of Rossères. He came with a retinue of his Hammeghs, dressed simply in a black ferda; and, having stepped into the tent of the great Basha, he greeted him, and seated himself, without being invited, on the divàn close to him. The viceroy, beside himself with anger at this freedom, did not speak a word to him; but, after a short time, through his dragoman Abdin Bey, bade him depart. The old Basha told our Ahmed Basha, when Sheikh Suliman should again appear, to stand before him, in order to instil somewhat more respect into this old obstinate fellow. Suliman was summoned, and Ahmed entered into a conversation with him intentionally, standing before the viceroy, to prevent him from sitting down before the latter had assigned him the proper place by motioning with his hand to do so. The crafty Suliman, perceiving the Turkish finesse, and provoked at such treatment, which he did not deserve, drew himself up erect, and addressed Mohammed Ali thus in a serious, calm tone of voice, without waiting for the first word from the latter, conformably to Turkish etiquette:—

“Thou wishest to reduce me, here, in the presence of my people, to the grade of thy servant (Gadàm), but thou wilt be disappointed. Thou dost not know my power. Art thou aware that it only needs a word from me to excite the whole island to revolt, and to destroy thee and thy trifling military escort? Reflect that thou art in my kingdom, in my power, and not I in thine, Yet I will not be base; say, in a few words, why I have been summoned here, and what I shall do.” Mohammed Ali, enraged to frenzy at hearing a black talk so to him, but perceiving only too well the truth of what he said, reflecting on Suliman’s power and importance, and his own small army, gave way in this critical juncture, and ordered Abdin Bey (although he understands Arabic) to explain to him that the manner in which he had behaved was not proper; that he intended to invest him with the mantle of honour, and that he must kiss his hand as a token of subjection. Sheikh Suliman listened to this, laughing at the same time, but returned thanks for the honour of the investiture, and stooped to kiss his hand, which, however, he did not do, as the old Basha, enraged, kept both of them behind him; whereupon Suliman, without further ceremony, silently went away, and never appeared again, although he was summoned several times.

Mohammed Ali was indignant at the heads or Sheikhs of the mountains of Fàzogl not having paid their respects to him, as they had been apparently subdued by Ahmed Basha, in his expedition against Mount Tabi, Aba Regrehk, Singue, to Beni-Shangull, (twelve days’ journey behind Fàzogl, called by the Turks Fèsog’l), or rather had entered into a friendly alliance. And he attributed their non-appearance to Sheikh Suliman, whose dominion extends from Aba Nande, below Rossères, to Fàzogl, and who, although of a small and weak frame, for he is above eighty years old, (some say more than a hundred), has not lost by his subjection the fame of his bravery in former times, which is spread through the land, and of which wonders are related. On the contrary, he is reckoned a real prince of peace among these considerable chiefs, and has preserved tranquillity in the country in behalf of the Turks, entirely for the sake of preventing bloodshed. He went into the villages of his people, who honour him as a father and tutelar genius, and merely said, “The Turks again want Tulba; I know not whence to take it.” They brought it spontaneously, each according to his means, and even more than he wanted, which surplus he then distributed among the poor. One must know the avaricious character of these people properly to appreciate such generosity.

This frank and open speech on the 24th Dec. 1838, was sufficient to shew the old Basha how civilization, even in Ethiopia, begins to assert its claims, and urges resistance against Turkish barbarism; for wherever the soil is abundant, there personal freedom, the love of which these people have preserved pure in their hearts, has a right to demand a generous maintenance; but they have not even this, for, in contempt of the country and the people, every thing belongs to the great man, or his hangmen. He sent presents, therefore, and issued written proclamations, to the absolute rulers of Kamomil—where the richest veins of gold have been found—of Fazangùr, Duhb, and even to the Galla-chiefs, in which he says that he is not come to disturb their tranquillity,—that he, the Lord of armies and cannons, promises peace, &c. Even Abu Sarrott, the terror of all the mountains behind Fàzogl, received sabres and Turkish dresses from Mohammed Ali, and, fourteen days afterwards, the receiver of these presents plundered all the magazines, and carried away the cows and camels. This Abu Sarrott, before whom every one trembles, was formerly a slave of the Sultan of Mount Hummos, east of Fàzogl, had rendered himself independent, and having no settled abode, makes himself a home everywhere.

Mohammed Ali led four battalions of infantry, 400 Mogrebin cavalry under their leader Ladham, and 600 horsemen armed with lances, swords, and bucklers, from Sennaar, under the Sheikhs Defalla and Edris Wood Adlàn, with two field-pieces, to Fàzogl, where he made a sacrifice to humanity, by releasing 400 slaves. He had already in Khartùm revived the old edict issued from Alexandria and Káhira for the abolition of the slave-trade, in order to throw dust in the eyes of Europeans; but this order was one of those which, though publicly given, contained secretly a counter order. This practice goes so far, that these fine orders which are issued from Kahira, are entrusted to a kawass or courier, who on such occasions is a confidential lictor of the great Basha, and who quietly whispers into the ear of Ahmed Basha how he is to understand the despatches. So much for the suppression of the slave-trade, or rather of the Chasua (slave-hunt), as the former is practised publicly throughout all Egypt, even in the houses of the Consuls. So much for the not setting foot upon Abyssinia, where however Emir Bey undertook an expedition from Fàzogl to Atish, towards its boundaries, marching forward with the incredible caution usual in the Chasua, and seized Christian churches, and massacred every soul. So likewise in Taka, where slave-hunts took place on all sides; and from whence we should very certainly have gone to Habes, if the campaign had turned out well. Such was the case also in Kordofàn, where, on the intelligence that Mohammed Ali had himself put into effect at Fàzogl the orders he had given in Khartum, on account of the delay that took place, the slaves found unfit to be recruits were set at liberty. At the same time the well instructed Ahmed Basha dared to issue an order to Mustapha Bey to prepare a Chasua for 6,000 slaves, by which the loss of the 400 in Fazogl and of the few who had been emancipated in Kordofàn was sufficiently covered. Ahmed Basha managed afterwards to gain the confidence of the old Sheikh Suliman, probably, by praising his independent behaviour towards Mohammed Ali. In short, Sheikh Suliman, who had no medical assistant in Rossères, allowed himself to be persuaded by Ahmed Basha to make his nephew, Edris Kantòr (also Kamptor) the ruling Sheikh, conformably to Mohammed Ali’s wishes; to stand by his (Ahmed’s) side in Khartùm as his counsellor, and to take into consideration the welfare of the country. The renegade Suliman Effendi (with whom my brother was once there) was to have him under his care; but the Sheikh would not take any medicine, because he feared a physician whose fame had even extended from Arabia. This Sicilian had poisoned thirty-three soldiers there in order to ruin two Frenchmen, the physician and the apothecary, whom he detested. Ahmed Basha has need of such persons even in this land. Suliman suddenly died because he was too tenacious of life and wanted to return to Rossères, and was immediately buried according to the custom of this country, just as I was on the point of visiting him. “Deve morire, non c’è misericordia,” said Suliman Effendi, laughing, when opposing my brother with respect to the nature of his illness; and he was right. The brother of Sheikh Suliman, Nasr Wud Ahmed, came six months after to this capital; the strong, robust man was despatched in fourteen days in the same Turkish manner. Another brother received for some trifling matter 1,000 blows with the kurbash (a scourge, or whip, cut from the skin of the hippopotamus), far worse than the Nabùt, and reckoned to be equivalent to death: this man endured the punishment not only manfully without uttering a sound, but sprang up, and exclaimed, “Ana achu el bennaght!” (literally, “I am a brother of the maiden!” it means, however, a man who defends his hearth—generally, a hearty, brave fellow). Such examples of hardihood are not rare here, and depend partly on the race from which they spring. By the intrigues and the constant chicaneries of Ahmed Basha, the family of Suliman has been reduced to the lowest point. Woe to the Turks, therefore, when the time for revenge comes! The people belonging to the race of the Hammeghs still continue formidable, and remain always devotedly attached to the family.

These great Lords of the Isles, such as Edris Wud Adlàn, and Edris Kantòr, nephew of old Suliman, possess villages wherein 3000 or 4000 slaves live at their ease, with their wives and children, who are faithful and require only a hint from their protector. These Sheikhs, who are the issue of the marriages between the Funghs and Hammeghs, have besides a body-guard which they have furnished for themselves, being their own or perhaps not their own children. Thus Kantòr has more than 100 wives, Edris somewhat less, none of whom must be barren, if they do not wish to be displaced by others.

The old policy, which unfortunately still holds good, of chiefs being at variance with one another, bears its fruit also here. Kantòr as Sheikh of the Divàn, fears the lawful heirs, the children of Sheikh Suliman and Nasr, and has already murdered seven of them, without being called to account for it. Two sons, however, fled to the Sheikh Wud Abrish, on the confines of Makàda.

There died besides, in confinement, whilst I was in the country, the great Sheikh Mohammed-Din, a martyr for his Haddendas;—also Sheikh Hademer, highly esteemed in Mahass, who some years before had prophesied from his old books, that the Inglés (English) would free them from the Turks; wherefore, as soon as the intelligence was received of the taking of St. Jean d’Acre, he was seized in order to be, like Mohammed-Din, for ever set aside.

A man of consideration, on whom the Basha had forced the post of Muder of Dongola, for a considerable sum of money, died the day before he was about to set out for Dongola. My brother said to Suliman Effendi, that the unfortunate man was poisoned. “Pare cosi ma ben pagato la sua morte da Muder,” answered the renegade, and then abused the avaricious Basha, because, instead of paying his debts, he had required him to reduce them himself.

What, however, made a great noise and sensation in Egypt, was the death of Farat-Bey, in Wollet Mèdine, and especially the sudden decease of the brave Mustaphà Bey, in Khartùm, the only Turk who was really beloved in the whole country, and who was therefore an enemy of the Basha. He came from Kordofan to Fàzogl, during the time of the extreme heat, where Ahmed Basha hoped he would perish from the insufferable climate, as he said himself jocosely. He was not well, and was exhausted by the journey; he became worse without Suliman Effendi summoning to a consultation the three Italian physicians who happened to be present, Cecconi, Toscanelli, and Count de Domine. The Bey, surrounded by Memlukes and servants, requested Suliman Effendi to give him medicine to send him to sleep. The latter spoke in Italian to himself, went to the small army medicine-chest, being watched by the slaves, took laudanum and gave it to the Bey, in a silver tablespoon; but the desired sleep did not come;—and Mustaphà himself called for opium, though he was not accustomed at other times to use it. The attendants, still remaining in respectful silence, heard and saw how the Sicilian muttered again in Italian, again poured laudanum into the spoon, and held it to the mouth of the Bey. Scarcely had the latter taken this dose, which was larger than the first, than blood rushed from his nose and mouth, and he slept for ever. His Memlukes knew the bottle on which the name was specified, too exactly, and called it Rogh el Affiùn (spirit of opium). Suliman Effendi did not appear the next day, and on the morning after, when he came to me, was very discomposed and absent in mind—exclaiming, “che brav’ uomo! peccato,”—whilst he sought every moment his snuff-box. Whereupon I asked him, whether he had given the Bey laudanum twice? He did not deny it, but he had only given “a few drops,” “e, Signor Avvocato! mi era padrone, io servo suo.”

I had everything to fear from this man, who otherwise was friendship and familiarity itself, on account of my brother, whom the Basha intended to put in his place, as medical inspector of Belle Sudan, and had openly expressed that intention. It was therefore with the most solemn earnestness, that I threatened him with death, if I should not find my brother alive on my return, and should discover that he had come in contact with him.

“Dio guardi, che affronto,” he said, and quietly drank his glass of rum; for a similar insult had been openly offered to him in the divàn of the Basha, which naturally referred to the poisonings laid to his charge in Arabia and here. Not only did the superior military and civil officers fear to take medicine from him; but also the Basha—who, indeed, knew him best—would not receive on one occasion a glass of lemonade from him, though he had prepared it under his own eyes, and asked my brother for another glass, which was, of course, annoying to him. He was called at the bazaars “Rogh el Affiùn;” in the coffee-houses, “Rogh el Affiùn,” and “el Marras” (ruffian, or bad man).

The unhappy end of Mustaphà Bey found general sympathy; and some astonishment was excited when it was known that the Basha had threatened Suliman Effendi with the bastinado if he did not pay his debts. Even in the divan of Vaissière (which we also called the exchange, because this man, who was an officer under Napoleon, and decorated with the croix d’honneur, carries on the most considerable traffic in slaves in the whole country) the death of the Bey was discussed by the Franks; and it was doubted whether it had been done by Ahmed Basha’s orders, or whether Suliman Effendi had accomplished the deed of his own accord, in order to render an essential service to him.

Whilst they were speaking of him, the old greybeard entered with his accustomed sallies of wit. They laughed at his conceits, and treated him as usual, which is so easy for these European people, even when they have deadly hatred in their hearts, that it makes an honest man shudder. I could relate a good deal of these Europeans, but it would make too long a digression here, although we are stopping between the Blue and White Nile; and I consider it even my duty to particularize them by name on another opportunity, as I, with my iron sceptre in my hand, have before threatened to do. My brother and myself might perhaps be reproached for having visited such companions, who, under an exterior appearance, by which the mere passing traveller is so easily blinded, have utterly abandoned all law, justice, and morality, and have almost renounced Europe; and for having associated with men who are no longer masters of their better selves, but entirely lost, and of whom we were warned in Káhira. Kahira and Alexandria must be known to estimate properly such a warning, as it does not refer to the immorality of men, but only to the preservation of one’s own interests against danger. Káhira, as well as Alexandria, affords abundance of materials for a chronique scandaleuse, and forms an uncommonly rich and highly interesting stubble-field of unmistakable colonial nature, where a careful winnowing of the higher society would give a surprising result. It is the same even with the small and partly ephemeral colonies of Franks in Khartùm, where they concentrate themselves at times.

After a tedious journey of three months, we arrived here. The Muslims perceived the French flag hoisted as a matter of precaution, as it generally prevents the ship being taken away for the use of Bilik (government), and they crossed over to the Douaniers, who never lose sight of their prey: we were truly glad to find human beings again. Our flag was known by no one except by Vaissière, who gave vent to an old grudge against the Prussians, and excited a prejudice against us among the Italians, which was so much the greater, because a noble example of Prussian manners and customs had caused an uncommon sensation here in Khartùm. The long title of my countryman was hardly perceptible on the fragments of pots, whereon we read “Puckler-Muscau,” called and supposed by the common people to be “Sultan betal Moscow.” However, they tendered their services to us with uncommon hospitality, letters having preceded us which possibly described us as harmless fellows,—except one, a German letter. A Frank, in white Turkish costume, addressed us, like a shade from the lower regions, in the German language: we were surprised, and especially when he asked about a letter from my countryman ——, which at the best, therefore, must have been an Uriah’s letter. The pale citizen of Khartùm calls himself a peasant (from the neighbourhood of Wurzburg), and is now inspector of manufactories in Kamlin.

A letter, full of low calumny, from my amiable friend had found its way even to him, although I had not done him any injury; but he was too well known. He had, in a peculiar sense of the word, given me letters of recommendation against my will, not only here, but in Cairo, to which city he took the trouble of writing three. It is the curse of a prolonged residence in the South that the character of Europeans, and particularly of the northern nations, alters more or less in course of time. Slumbering passions display themselves in an odious and very dangerous manner; the cat becomes a tiger raging against itself, if the spirits of Ahriman,—brandy, and opium,—have him betwixt them;—and at last he is mocked and laughed at. A choice of companions, who might be called “good and bad, or high and low,” was not to be found among the few Franks in Khartùm. They live a cat and dog life with each other, but are breathing witnesses that this is the land of the Lotophagi; for, from their frequent convivia and bacchanalia, they might be supposed to be bursting with love and friendship. Whoever is really in earnest to acquire general information on the manners and customs of the East, and to increase his knowledge of human nature, must not carry himself as cautiously as a diplomatist, provided he is conscious of good sound principles, fostered from youth upwards.

Mustaphà Bey was dead; Ahmed Basha had lost a rival, and moreover came into possession of 2000 purses, by the closest money transactions with the public exchequer. The brother of the victim arrived with a high and mighty Firman from Constantinople and Káhira, to fetch his brother back to Thrace from the unhealthy climate, and, perchance, also from the dangerous contiguity to Ahmed Basha. It was intended, perhaps, that he should come too late, for they managed, in a remarkable manner, to procrastinate his stay in Káhira, and also on the road. He was very much cast down, and scarcely regarded by the Turks, even by the Copts, wherefore he did not dare to reclaim his inheritance, as he valued his life. Sero venientibus ossa could not, however, be said of him, for the Charim (harim), with flesh and blood in abundance, remained to him. This arose from the Princess or Bashalessa,—as the wife of Ahmed Basha, and the daughter, or adopted daughter, of Mohammed Ali, is called by the Franks,—having, in an unusual visit, openly shewn her sympathy, and prevented, by her authority, on the part of the Divàn, the harim being plundered. This lady was awarded to Ahmed as a mark of peculiar favour, when he was residing in Káhira, where she also remained behind till the year 1840.

Ahmed Basha was obliged to discard his former wives, according to the custom here, and also in Turkey, when the daughters of the Sultan are married. Even those great men were forced to do this, to whom Mohammed Ali, in that magnanimous reduction of his inventory of women in 1838, bequeathed princesses from his Charim (for whom he had lost all regard, and would not pension as widows), to be their reigning lawful wives, and whose slippers, conformably to the Mussulman custom, they were compelled to kiss. Our Bashalessa is, according to my brother’s opinion, an accomplished Levant lady, who knows how to distinguish good from bad, and feels herself extremely unhappy in Khartùm, where she is confined to her cloister, with an occasional excursion on the Nile. She is desirous of getting away from the place, and wanted, therefore, to entrust my brother, when we had determined on our return, with a letter to her father Mohammed Ali: she sent also, contrary to her former custom, several times during my brother’s illness to inquire after his health. When he was called in to see her as a physician, she received him without a veil, just like her attendants, and spoke continually of Masr, and asked after political news. She is a tall, imposing, and almost masculine person, with a deep voice, yet very courteous;—but not nearly so handsome as two novices in her train, condemned to chastity. In the antechamber, from whence the Tauwàsch (eunuchs) did not dare to step over the threshold of the cell, he always found an European breakfast to console him. She may, therefore, have contributed to Ahmed Basha’s being recalled to Káhira. The latter, however, did not obey the repeated invitations, and died of a tertian ague in the spring of 1844. His successor was Ahmed Basha, known by the epithet of “Menikli,” (meaning “great ear,”) whose march to Taka appears, according to the usual vaunting of the Arabs, to have turned into just as rapid a retreat.

Khartùm forms, in every respect, the capital of Belle-Sudan; it has a mixed population of about 30,000 souls, and lies, according to Duke Paul William Von Würtemberg, (who visited this country in the spring of 1840, and went as far as Facharne, near the Geb’l Kassan, three or four days’ journey above Fazogl), under the 15th° 41′ 25″ north latitude, on the northern point of the land of Sennaar, between the Nile and the White Stream. It is called Khartùm (point of land) from this position. Only a few fishing huts marked, some thirty years ago, the place where gardens and fields extend on the narrow neck of land running from the city northward towards the mouth of the White Stream, from whence the colony, advancing upwards in the direction of the Blue Stream to the south-east, turns the greatest part of its numerous gardens to its principal side, whilst the miserable huts of the Baràbras lie scattered about the level margin of the White Stream. The small group of houses standing in the place of the fishing huts I have mentioned, is called el Belled, meaning village here, in opposition to Helle (city). Khurdshid Basha is, properly speaking, the founder of Khartùm, for he fixed his residence here, erected more public buildings, and even established a dock on the White and another on the Blue Stream. Except the dyami (mosque) and the bassàr (bazaar), all the houses are built of lathes, or air stones, the fabrication of which is so slight in the new buildings, that very noxious standing pools are formed, which, at the first rains, are immediately peopled with frogs, said to come out of the earth. Ahmed Basha understood these disadvantages to health so much the more, because he himself was subject to frequent fevers, and wished, in order to obviate the noxious evil of the unhealthy situation of the city, not only to fill up these ditches, by pulling down the houses nearest to them, but also for the sake of a better draught of air, to have wide streets formed. To render the city secure against any danger from water, he was to have made the shore of the Blue Nile an angle of 45°, and the earth removed thereby, with the ruins of the houses taken down, was to have been employed to make a broad dam;—this dam to be planted with trees.

In like manner, a long wall was to have been raised along the White River, and an extensive sandy country would have been laid under cultivation. We spoke on this subject in Taka, and he immediately wanted a drawing of a plan, which was easily made, even at so great a distance, because, excepting the mosque and the new bazaar, no heed was to be taken even of his palace. Ahmed Basha had really much practical sense, and thought that every one ought to be, by instinct, a bit of a Hakim and Maendes, (physician and engineer).

The departure of the expedition was fixed for the 23rd November, and yet three cannon shots, unexpected by any one, resounded to-day about l’Asser, (three o’clock in the afternoon), as an imperative signal, although it had been long wished for by me. I sprang to the window and heard myself summoned, from the ship which was to convey me, to come immediately. Now there arose an indescribable swarm of people and clatter on the shore, a crying, howling, and leave-taking, so that I was glad to be able to squeeze through the crowd to the cabin. Sounding above every thing arose the shrill treble of women, that inimitable and horrible quavering cry, “Kullelullullulu,” by which they give vent to every lively emotion of the heart in pain, joy, and misery, with different modulations which a foreign ear can only distinguish by frequently hearing them. This time it was a farewell cry, for every one flocked to the shore to give the parting greeting, and some rushed even into the Nile to the side of the vessels. There were women, daughters, sisters, brothers, and the chorus of black, brown, and white dancing girls, who nimbly drew from large round vessels of clay (burma) more merissa, and passed this parting drink round in gourd shells (gara) among their acquaintances, gratis. These dancing women, or filles de joie (guavàsi, sing., ghasië), are never wanting here at any feast, whether with Turks or Christians, and break, at least, the monotony of such comfortless society where woman is always excluded.

If we few Europeans had not perhaps dragged ourselves very quickly to the vessels, with an occasional curse at the climate on our lips, the Turks, certainly, did not move more actively; nay, they were even more enervated by the influence of the climate, and the discomforts attending it. They came therefore surlily, sluggishly, and unattended, having left behind their attendants in the harims. It was only the coloured people that suffered nothing; they were in their native element. Our black soldiers embraced one another, shouting for joy, because they were going to the south, to their free fatherland, from which they had been inhumanly torn by Chasuas or Dshellabs (slave-hunts or slave-dealers). Inspired by Merissa, they shouted, in their language, to their different countrymen, who, partly in chains, were carrying water, and many a plan for the recovery of their freedom, and the destruction of their oppressors, may have been awakened in their rude minds. Belle-Sudàn means not so much Land of the Blacks, as Land of Men of Colour, for assuet denotes black, and sud smutty or dingy, as the word is used here; for example, in dirty linen. According to the colour, the name might have been used as beginning from Assuan, but the northern boundary of Belle-Sudàn is formed by the two rocks of Assul, on the right shore of the Nile, a declivity of the Achaba Shangull. That Achaba with its rocks crosses the Nile, and its natural gates also are the boundaries of the Mamùr of Berber. But here, where the poor, fair child of man, not excepting even the Arabs and Kopts, totters about and fades away, weak, and feverish as if he were affected with the Marasmus senilis; here upon his native soil, we ought to see this dark people, how boldly and freely, nay wantonly and flexibly—again, how angularly and awkwardly they move their limbs under this glowing sun;—how they stamp with inconceivable pleasure, fury, and perseverance, upon the hot ground in the wild dance, till the earth trembles again. Here it is that we must see the Blacks, when they have drowned their grief for their lost freedom, and the home-sickness which kills most of them, in sparkling Merissa, if we would know them thoroughly, with all their peculiarities, and in their entire bestial beauty. From this muddy soil of the shallow lakes of the inner countries fermenting under the hot sun, such a dark-coloured and black breed as the Dinkas could alone spring, with the primitive forms of human monsters, yet with plastic frames, without being masters, in our sense, of their mass of limbs. With what ease and purity the naturalized dark-brown Arab and Baràbra, and the black Nuba move here:—how secure their tread on the vessels, in comparison with our Egyptian lubbers, who, like the Pachydermata, cannot renounce the Fellah.

The line of the vessels unwound itself into a curve from the shore of the blue stream; the cannons thundered, all the guns were repeatedly discharged, the drums (trombet) beat a flourish; here and there arose a noise and contention for places; the Arabs sang to the stroke of the oar with the accompaniment of the tarabùka (pot drum), the Baràbras struck up songs with their tambùr (guitar, Arabic, Rabàba) at the same time: here one blew the double flute (argùl), there sounded the sumàra (pastoral pipe). All this was done chiefly to stun themselves and to lighten their agitated hearts. Scarcely had I by signs taken my leave, than there came over me a feeling of separation, as if I had left my brother Joseph in Khartùm. Many days journey indeed he was from me, and in a campaign that I knew, from being previously present at it, was dangerous. At Gohr et Gash, I had jumped on a dromedary without first embracing him: we had both regarded it as a good omen, but now our separation was first definitively decided. In Khartùm I had, at times, received intelligence or letters from the camp; here we had so often afforded brotherly assistance to each other on a sick bed, and mutually saved one another’s lives. What dangers, what adventures awaited him and me between the present and the moment of meeting again!—but—we shall yet see one another.

Sailing down the blue stream, we soon neared the wooded island of Tuti, inhabited by the Baràbras, rising gently like a little Delta, at the conflux of the two arms of the Nile. This island is said to be the oldest colony of the Baràbras in these parts, on account of which they bury their dead there from the whole surrounding country, just as the Arab tribes, and the other inhabitants of the banks of the Nile carry their dead to the village of Hubba, lying opposite to Khartùm, upon the right side of the Blue River, because in both places highly revered Sheikhs or saints have their tombs in lofty, cupola-shaped vaults, gradually diminishing upwards to a conical form, and called Hubba, (not Kubba, which means the plague, a disease entirely unknown here). The White River, flowing to the north-east, rolls in an unbroken stream along the north-west side of the island of Tuti, whilst the Blue River, whose current is more than twice as strong, bounds against this straight, whitish stream of water, as well as against the south-east side of the island, and winding through between the latter and its right shore, which juts out, makes a bend, deserts its former direction to the north-west, and turns in a north-easterly one, with the White Stream.

Here, once, both streams met and became united in a lake, which might have formed a triangle, according to the direction of the White Downs, above Khartùm from the Blue River, near the village of Gos Burri, the smallest angle of which went towards the south into the White River. At that time, the Blue Stream exercised quite a different dominion, and did not condescend to the before-named bend at the Island of Tuti, from which bend the traveller is firmly convinced that the Blue Stream flows into the White. The inhabitants of the banks, however, assert the contrary, for the former, as being the Nile, is considered, as it were, sacred, from its superior water and its more beautiful colour; although they allow that both streams spring from one source. This likewise redounds to its fame, that it is said to flow five times quicker than the White Stream, which latter indeed is nearly stagnant in the dry season. With all its good qualities, the Blue Stream displays a destructive activity towards Khartùm. If it had extended this activity before, more towards its right shore on the east, and spared the low ground heaped up by it towards the west, to be the foundation of a future city, and formed by its alluvial deposit a dam against the White Stream, its waves would now wash up more against its west shore, exactly opposite to the principal side of Khartùm. It is very certain that it is not necessary to go back into the ages before history, to speak of a land-draining of the northern point of Sennaar, since the expression “fok el Bachr,” points plainly to the old river’s edge by the Mosque; and likewise, not a single brick has been found in all this lake soil of Khartùm, except on the hill near Burri, which also must be considered merely as a new shore of the lake. As I have said before, the Blue Stream always extends more towards the mouth of the White, which it has already pressed down against the edge of the rock, in the desert near Omdurman, whilst it extended itself, like a lake, immediately from Hubba in the extensive low country east of Halfaia, until it closed the road there with the hilly alluvial deposit upon which this city is partly built.

If the lake ground at Khartùm was principally governed by the White Stream, and its deep, clayey site overlaid with sand, the blue stream has heightened its lake at Halfaia with a fruitful soil, which yet enjoys at high water its blessed waves, that impart, however, only a soft green to the forest.

Near Wud, or Wolled Hüsseïn, four hours’ east of Halfaia, a natural canal is seen in the rocks, with a steep fall, which even now is active as a Gohr, and might have made an outlet once for the lake on this side. The immediate cause, however, why the blue stream, by Khartùm, presses against its left shore, and flows almost under the houses of Khartùm, lies in the fact, that it has thrown up so much sand within these few years, against its east shore from Hubba to the island of Tuti, that the inhabitants of that great village are forced, when the water has somewhat subsided, to go far over the sand of the heightened bed of the river to the water, and that the inhabitants of the island there wade through the Nile to the right shore, on a sandbank ominously forming itself. If this last current of the blue river shall eventually be dammed up, its mass of water will rush with the strength of a powerful mountain torrent against the mouth of the white stream, and raise it, because its last strength is already expended, even at a moderate height of water, by the projecting rocks and the islands impeding its mouth. Then Khartùm will be lost, and the water will not only regain its former territory below Djami, but the blue stream will also break through above the whole city, as I sufficiently convinced myself a short time ago, at high water, when the city, notwithstanding the miserable Turkish precautions, was saved as if by a miracle, and the blue stream looked into my window, over the narrow dam of earth, which is about three or four feet high.

On this occasion, I saw five gazelles at the south-west end of the city, near the hospital, gazing with wonder on the mirror of the water of the wide white stream passing over into its old lake basin, which was driving them towards the city. A stupid Topshi (cannoneer), who was at too great a distance, without further ceremony scared them away immediately by a heavy shot from the powder magazine, whilst I, with my servant, had made a long circuit through the water, in vain. On such an inevitable swelling of the river, which must lead to the destruction of Khartùm, the old double lake that has ebbed away, will come to life for some time, and not only wash away the island of Tuti even to its rocky base, but also the whole margin of the left shore of the united stream up to Kàrreri, which, however, possesses in its rocky mountain, about three hours’ distant from Khartùm, a breakwater reaching from the desert of Baguda.

Ahmed Basha perceived all this very well, when we travelled together on the Nile to Tomaniàt below Halfaia, where he had taken the best fields from the Shaïgiës, in an illegal manner, and had ordered fifty sakies (or chain of buckets, for raising water) to be constructed upon it, and where the sesame was standing majestically, higher than a man, and might yet grow another foot. For this purpose—to obviate the danger which might arise to the future royal city—the bend of the right shore near Tuti was to have been broken by a deep canal, in order to carry away the sand from Hubba, and to deepen there the bed of the river. A favourite plan of the Basha’s, however, was to make his residence a fortress, to erect works on Tuti, and to place Khartùm upon an island by a canal, to be opened from the Blue to the White Nile; for such a canal formerly existed from Soba to the White Stream. Old people relate, to be sure, but only as a rumour, that the White and Blue Stream met together there. The ruins of Soba already known (which place one hears pronounced likewise Suba and Seba), consists of heaps of burnt bricks, without any other cement than the Nile slime, which have supplied the surrounding country for the vaults of the reputed holy Sheikhs, as well as in more modern times, Khartùm with materials for its mosque: they extend over a considerable space on the right shore of the Blue River. I heard the country opposite these ruins called likewise “Dar Soba;” therefore a contra-Soba, or perhaps once united to it, since the burnt and fused masses of brick, the wide-scattered bricks and fragments, even the ditches, if there had not been clay or foundations and vaults dug out, indicate, at all events, an old place. A small village on the edge of the river, under shady mimosas, and called Soba, extends to this. I have found just as slight traces of that canal, or of the bed of a river in this woody country, as in the other Soba on the right side of the river; and, therefore, I cannot assume, with regard to the last-mentioned ruins, that they were once situated on the land of Sennaar, although the right shore might indicate the violence of an irruption of water through the city itself.

Before I forsake the Blue Stream, I must yet remark that, besides the usual name of “Bach’r asrek,” it is called in this neighbourhood, “the Nile, or Bahr el Nil,” as I have often convinced myself. If it be asked why it is called the Nile, the answer is, because it has beautiful and good water: the old expression for this river is therefore identical with its properties. It is just the same in Egypt, where, as I found from experience, especially in Káhira, Bahr el Nil expresses the material properties of the water, for even the sakkah (water-carrier) interprets the Nile water with hellue (sweet), in opposition to cistern and brackish water. The Basha calls it also nothing but Nile, and says that certain Sheikhs have declared to him, that ignorant people call it after its blue colour. Nile means in the Arabic language indigo; otherwise this word is no longer used for a blue colour. I had an opportunity of hearing the word Nile used for inundation, together with Ba Kebir, or ruga tossiga (great water), denoting the same thing. The old expression of Nile awakes here, therefore, at the moment when it discloses itself as a divinity, a protector, and a nourisher of the country and people. Only the large pastoral Arab tribe of the Shukuriës, in the so-called Meroë, between the Blue River and the Atbara, has the peculiar name of “Adehk,” in its Aggem language for this stream, whilst the other nations in their name for it, indicate its colour. Those of Dongola, and Mahass, who both boast to be Gins betal Thin (people of the soil), call it Amanga Arumga, and Essige Rumege, and the united stream, Ruga; even the far distant Nuba negroes, the old support of the family of the Ethiopian mixture of blood, from Assuan to Rossères, call it Blue Water (Tè Uri). It is the Blue River, therefore, which possibly has imposed the name of Nile on the united stream, and might have formed the road of cultivation to nations wandering down and back again, whilst the mouth of the White Stream, retarded by lake-like shallows and swamps, was far less known. As, in addition to this, it is denied, with some justice, that fertility and good water are the property of the White River, it might have been, in the ages of antiquity, despised so much the more, and looked upon as a subordinate stream, not to be spoken of: not a single burnt brick, or other memorial, points to an earlier intercourse with it.

Before we entered the mouth of the White Stream, we conferred the last honour on the sacred water of the Blue River, by filling the large earthern water-vessels, (Sirr, like the ancient Amphora) with a great noise, and cursed the White River as being stinking (affen.) The sails were worked amid prodigious confusion; the north-east wind blew gently in them, and we bent our course from the Mogren, (denoting equally conflux and mouth, confluentia et ostium,) round the northern point of the land of Sennaar, (Ras el Khartùm, head of the neck of land,) and sailed slowly to the south over the rocks, overflowed with water, into the White Stream. There we heard the last kulle-lullu-lulu of the women, who raised, with both hands, their handkerchiefs in an arch over their heads, as in funerals. This made most of us laugh, especially my men, who thought that they had as good teeth as the Njam-Njam, so much feared by many, particularly by well-fed Egyptians, but whose country no one could point out.

CHAPTER III.

VILLAGE OF OMDURMAN. — MOHAMMED EL NIMR, THE BURNER OF ISMAIL, MOHAMMED ALI’S SON. — MEROE AND THE PYRAMIDS. — SENNAAR. — WANT OF DISCIPLINE ON BOARD THE VESSELS. — SCENERY OF THE RIVER. — TOMB OF MOHA-BEY. — DIFFERENT ARAB TRIBES. — HILLS OF AULI MANDERA AND BRAME. — SOLIMAN KASCHEF. — REMARKS ON HIS GOVERNMENT. — AQUATIC PLANTS. — THE SHILLUKS AND BARABRAS. — LITTLE FEAST OF BAIRAM. — CHARACTERS OF THIBAUT, THE FRENCH COLLECTOR, AND OF ARNAUD AND SABATIER, THE ENGINEERS. — HONEY. — MANDJERA OR DUCKS. — FEIZULLA CAPITAN’S EPILEPTIC FITS. — WOODED ISLANDS. — THE HEDJAZI.

We find ourselves in the gulf, properly speaking, of the arm of the White Nile, whose waters now extend majestically, and form an elliptic bay towards Sennaar. The trees of the village of Omdurman, lying upon the left shore opposite the neck of land, still stood in the water, as evidence of that forest which Khartùm in its neighbourhood is said to have absorbed, and by that act to have forfeited the blessing of rain in an almost incredible manner, excepting the slight showers which are usual at this season. Omdurman lies upon the rocky edge of the Desert of Bajuda, and is inhabited by the Gallihn or Djalin. This people is not of importance on the left side of the Nile, for it does not possess, except Metemna and some villages, any settlements; on the east shore of the Nile, however, it makes up the principal population between Abu Hammed and Abu Haràsk. Mohammed el Nimr, the burner of Ismail Basha, was the Sheikh of this people, and was called by them Sedàb. He has founded for himself, principally through his courage and hatred of the Turks, which were shewn near Nasùb, a new kingdom on the borders of Habesh, above Sofi, where the two little rivers of Settiel and Bassalahm flow into the Atbara: he lives in league with Wud Aued, the Sheikh of the Dabaina Arabs, and is on the other side connected by marriage with a Ras of Makada. Immediately beyond the village of Omdurman, there are found upon the bare, washed-away rocky ground strown over with pebbles, some foundations and burnt bricks, which we ourselves saw, were used in the building of the bazaar, and which were without any admixture of lime, although they lie upon chalky rocks, from which lime has been burnt for the Djami and the Bazaar. So, also, the bricks of Gos Burri, where the traces of a very great colony are extant, travelled to the banks of Hubba, the bricks of which are of uncommon goodness.

The land of Sennaar, to the west side of which we are now sailing, is called through the whole country par excellence Gesira, the Island, for it is taken for one by the people, and is designated also a land by the latter word, as Meroë was once, and indeed from the very same cause. But if we speak of the city of Meroë, the ruins of which we may assume to be in the plain on the Nile under Shendy, where the villages of Gebelabe, Marùga, Dengèla, and Bahr-auie are—this place was certainly situated upon an island. The low country towards the pyramids down to the village Maruga, where a canal filled with mud now disembogues into the Nile, would plainly shew this, if a bed of rocks, perhaps intended to separate the sacred city from the great churchyard, were not just before that heap of rubbish, on which is pointed out the forge, or the heavy scoriæ of metals, said to have been wrought by the powerful Kafr Ibn Omàli el Kebir. The names also of the two villages Bahr-auie, (not Begrauie and Bigrauie, as the Egyptians and Kenuss pronounce it,) and Ma-ruga, refer to water, in the same manner as Dengela perhaps does to a fortress; Dongola, also, is called in old writings Dengela, or Tongul, (according to old Sheikh Hampsa in Hannak, who is well read.)

The hills of ruins of Meroë in complexu, are called Geb’l Omàli, and the Pyramids, which the ass-drivers in Kahira call Piramill and Paramill, are called here Taralib, and Tarabill, as at Geb’l Barkal. In the latter place, I heard from the Faki Mohammed in Abhdom, who has inherited rare manuscripts from his father in Meraui, that the true name is Tarable, indisputably from Turab, sing. Tura, a grave; if not from Troab, a stone. Lastly, as to the Pyramids of Assúr, as those in Meroë or Geb’l Omali are called in Europe, the Sheikh of Maruga knew them only as Chellal el Aschùr above Metemma. With these people we are always right, if whilst asking one of them we chose to fit some name to a place where ruins are found, however corrupt it may be. This is partly politeness, as I have seen again and again in “Piramill;” partly, they believe, also, that we, as the descendants of those Kafirs who built such towers, must know better than they, where we have to seek for the buried treasures.

Let us ascend, therefore, from the island city of Meroë to Sennaar, to follow the course of the White Stream up to the Equatorial country, after some ideas have been first suggested about the origin of the denomination of this Mesopotamia, which may lead us back into those times when, according to the notions of the Egyptians, the Nile separated the Asiatics from the Afers (or Kafirs.) Sennaar (Σενναάρ, שנְער LXX.) means a land in which Babylon and other cities lay; Sennaar, better, however, Sennarti, means a little island near Ambukoll, where, in the language of the Baràbras, “Arti” denotes an island, and is always appended. “Wachet-sin,” or “sen el har,” (a hot tooth, or throat,) was a piece of soldier’s wit, which I heard in the city of Sennaar.

Joy and pleasure reigned on board the vessels, and the fresh air failed not also to have its beneficent effect upon me, for continual motion and variety are the principal conditions in the South, on which depend the good humour and feelings of internal life. Thus, the present expedition promised me pleasure and strength; and to enable me to make my ideas and thoughts speak livingly from my breast, without losing myself in a dreamy state of reclining inactivity; and to permit me to see, observe, and compare a strange world with its insipid surrounding scenery, without delaying writing my Journal till the next morning.

But the prospect of attaining our aim—viz., of seeking and finding the sources even beyond the equator—appeared to me at the beginning from the constitution and composition of our expedition, to be doubtful. The vessels were to follow one another in two lines, one led by Suliman Kashef, the other by Selim-Capitan; but already, when sailing into the white stream, this order was no longer thought of. Every one sailed as well as he could, and there was no trace to be discovered of nautical skill, unity of movement, or of an energetic direction of the whole. How will it be, when the spirits, now so fresh, shall relax through the fatigues of the journey?—when dangers which must infallibly occur shall arrive, and which only are to be met by a bold will directed to a determined point?

However, these gloomy impressions could not last long; the scene around was too picturesque, too peculiar, too exciting. On the left, the flat extended land of Sennaar was gently clothed again with copsewood and trees; and on its flooded borders rose strong and vigorous Mimosas (sunt and harasch) out of the water, high above the low bushes of Nebeck and Kitter. In the same manner the left shore was wooded, from which we were at a tolerable distance, owing to the north-east wind. Behind its girdle of copsewood and trees, reaching just as far as the waves of the majestic stream in their annual overflow give their fertilizing moisture to the soil, the bare stony desert extends upwards, as it shews itself at Omdurman, in profound and silent tranquillity. So much the more animated and cheerful was it on the river.

The decks of the vessel, with their crowd of manifold figures, faces, and coloured skins, from the Arabian Reïs who plies the oar, to the ram which he thinks of eating as the Paschal Lamb; the towering lateen sails, with the yard-arms, on which the long streamers, adorned with the crescent and star, wave before the swollen sails; the large crimson flags at the stern of the vessel, as they flutter lightly and merrily through the ever-extending waters; the singing, mutual hails and finding again, the ships cruizing to and from the limit fixed for to-day;—everything was, at least for the moment, a picture of cheerful, spiritual life. With a bold consciousness, strengthened by the thought of many a danger happily overcome, I looked beyond the inevitable occurrences of a threatening future to a triumphant re-union with my brothers.

Nov. 24th.—Our yesterday’s voyage was soon ended. We landed on the right shore, about two hours’ distant from Khartùm, near the tomb of Moha-Bey, overshadowed by two luxuriantly-growing harash-trees. They stood in the water, though the year before, on the 16th of November, they were far removed from it: thus giving four feet and a half higher water, and affording me the consolation of thinking that we shall penetrate further, although I perceive no great haste in any one, for we might have gone on very comfortably, and without any danger, the whole night. At sunset yesterday it was 22 degrees Reaumur (at our departure 25 degrees).[4] The appearance of the scenery had hitherto not changed.

The left shore appears entirely flat, equal in height to the water-line, to which the distance adds certainly something. Yet, on the right shore, the river from the Shudder Moha-Bey, has thrown out or deposited downs, which enter, in an undulating form, into the deserted lake territory.

The Kalàklas (Arabs) dwell, from these two trees on the right shore, in two Kabyles, under Sheikhs Bachit and Abugleff. The Hüsseïnudis (whose Sheikh, Abu Bekr Wollet el Mek, shares with his father the fame of valour, and of whom the Turks speak with respect,) extend to the left shore, opposite to the Kalàklas; they pay, however, Tulba, (tribute) as do all the Arab races of the White River, up to the Shilluks.

We sailed to-day in the morning at sunrise, but soon halted again on the right bank of the river, at the Arab tribe of Abdallah Ozerrs, where we took in wood. Another unnecessary delay! This might have been done yesterday. From the Abdallah Ozerrs we came to the Gulamabs and Hussein-Abs (Ab, abbreviation of Arab). At noon we reached, with a few deviations right and left from our course towards the south, the rocky hill of Auli, which rises to the height of some two hundred feet on the right shore, a day’s journey from Khartùm. From the numerous fragments found in the vicinity, being a conglomeration of chalk and limestone very much washed and brittle, this hill evidently belongs to the limestone formation. The name is derived probably from the Arabic auel; because this is the first high ground met with on the White Stream. It is also called Gare-Nebih, from a Sheikh buried there, and from whom also, conformably to the Arabic custom, the tribes dwelling there have taken their names.

Opposite to Gebel Auli, over the left side of the river, is seen another and more extensive elevation, bearing the name of Mandera. These rocky hills are of granite formation, and seem not to exceed a height of three hundred feet above the level of the stream. The word Mandera has here no more a Greek signification than Auli, although it still means, in Káhira, the lower part of the house, where the stables generally are to be found; in which, certainly, its analogy with sheepfold and a monastery is very close. But it here signifies a height upon which there is no water. On the left bank of the river are two tribes, which live in friendship and cultivate their durra fields in common. Higher up are the Gemulies, and beyond these the Mohammedies, belonging to the race of Gare Nebihs, whose Sheikh lies buried on the western plain, and who here possess both shores.

The Gebel Mussa soon shewed itself on the left, two hours’ journey from Gebel Mandera, also a hill of rocks (hornstone formation), which has received its name from the holy Sheikh buried there. Therefore, here also prevails the tasteless custom which in Europe has displaced so many radical names of places in history, tradition, and popular custom. The old name of this mountain is Brame; in which at present I can see no meaning. Both of these tribes dwell on the right and left shores; where likewise are found venerated graves of the family of Sheikh Mussa, to whose progenitor Mount Mandera belongs. Their present Sheikh is called Mussa Wollet Makbull,—a sensible, brave man. Rapidity of the stream one sea-mile; depth four to five fathoms and a half. Yesterday, when we sounded the stream, there was little or no current, which in fact decreases with the depth. This morning, at sunrise, it was seventeen degrees Reaumur; at noon thirty; and in the evening, at sunset, still twenty-seven degrees in the shade, at the open window.

Nov. 25th.—We halted, yesterday afternoon, opposite the Hill of Brame (Gebel Mussa), for it was the eve of the lesser Bairam feast, and Suliman Kashef wished to shew himself there in all his glory. We had now arrived at his piratical states, an extensive territory of several days’ journey; which he, as Kashef of the first rank, has acquired under the ægis of the Basha Ahmed! who had his peculiar share therein. If he does not understand how to read or interrogate, his administration, nevertheless, goes on excellently, according to the Turkish manner. He knows how to receive a complaint or petition with much grace, and with the other hand, to let the beads of his sebha (rosary) glide through his fingers to keep time with his course of ideas; to glance over the paper in appearance whilst he listens to the bearer, and then to hand it with stately contempt to a Faki to read to him. Really generous and social by nature, he loves to have cheerful people, in pure pleasure and genuine joy, around him; and appears to be beloved by this tribe whom he helps to oppress, since he selects, like a Nimrod, the élite for his predatory expedition; but if the enterprise succeed, does not let them go away empty-handed. As far as the Shilluka and Dinkus he is a dreaded guest, full of warlike artifices, Circassian and Ethiopian κρυπτεις, and of open fierce valour, and known only under the name of “Abu Daoud,” which means “Chief David,” and seems to be an historical name of the Ethiopian land; for it cannot be supposed to apply to the King or Prophet David. The old Sheikh Mussa himself appeared to pay his respects; and the Circassian was exceedingly glad to see him continue so fresh and well,—at the same time he winked at me to draw my attention to the flexible nature of the Arabs, when he gave the Sheikh to understand, with the most unruffled countenance, that he must procure an indefinite number of cattle and sheep for the feast of Bairam. All the Arabs suddenly drew a long face.

I made use of the time to examine the country, to ascertain clearly the lower formation of the valley of the White Stream. Here, also, the river is partly dammed up by downs, on which there are single groups of tokuls in the shade of Mimosas, the inhabitants of which belong to the races of Arabs dwelling farther back, who form a kind of line of defence towards the Stream, and amuse themselves with the chase, especially that of the Nile buffalo. Behind these downs, washed by the stream, is low ground covered with verdure, which alone would prove that there had been an inundation, even if standing water were not visible here and there, left by the river when it broke through or swept away the deposited and accumulated downs, and spread itself over the low country until it was sucked up by the sun. The valley, besides the good grass already dried up, was covered with various kinds of shrubs, with thorny nebek and kitter, with brandy clover called loïd, with mimosas, harash, sant, salle, &c. In the midst of these there are many paths formed in hastening to the water, by which the deer and the herds, when pursued, immediately divide the huntsmen, and lead into impenetrable thickets of thorns and creepers, or to sloughs and swamps where danger threatens on all sides, without their being able to render assistance to each other. The humid spaces were covered with luxuriant aquatic plants; amongst which was a Nymphæa with a reddish calix, like the convolvulus, and large cordate leaves. This, to my great astonishment, was called Loss, and reminded me of the old word, lotus, and is as prevalent here as the white lotus (Nelumbum speciosum), at a later period, the double flowers of which shine at a great distance through its leaves, taking light and life from the other aquatic plants, and covering the whole watery region like flat tumblers. The white lotus, called Zitehb, might here, as it once did with the Egyptians, serve as an emblem of the material world, from its abundance, like the potatoes with us; its roots serving equally for food.

The stream had not long returned to its limits, as I soon convinced myself, when, wandering to its brink, I saw to the south of this embankment an expanse of water stretching far over the land, out of which the tops of the taller trees peeped forth like verdant islands. Beyond the inundation still older downs were visible, which are no longer disturbed by water. These heights and hills connected with each other in an extremely arbitrary manner, or lying scattered, and partly forming a manifold circumvolution of the white stream, are not perhaps remains of an old deposit from the river, but probably the product of alluvial soil and earth thrown up. The river acquires for itself, from its well-known fruitful qualities—the nature of the place being favourable, by means of the plants floating towards it—a green border, which mostly consists of bushes, whose roots, matted together, resist the action of the stream. These bushes retain the yearly deposited slime of the Nile, and continue to grow with the ascending ground. So, likewise, the sand driven in when the water is low, and the portion of earth thrown up by the violent squalls of wind, remain behind protected by the bushes. When the water is at its greatest possible height, this accumulation is chiefly covered with its fertilizing layer of slime; whilst by the pressure of the water and the particles forcing themselves upwards, it still becomes higher. The sandy earth deposited by every wind, and the roots of the bushes penetrating through the moist soil, increase the swell of this formation of hills, by the fall of their leaves and wood, as one may plainly see in the spheroid and parallel sites of the shores of the downs, which have been partly destroyed.

In the interior beyond Mandera dwell the Kabbabish Arabs, a widely-spread Nomad race, possessing large droves of camels and horses, which they bring down from time to time to the shore to drink, and to supply themselves with drinkable water. This is the point of time at which Suliman Kashef is on the watch to extort tribute from them.

The Baghara (cow herdsmen, from Bagh’r, a cow), a wide-spread Arabian tribe, dwell further up the stream and possess the country as far as Kordofan. Their name is collective for many Kabyles of this Nomadic nation, who are to be considered as branches from the very same root, although from necessary local circumstances (in reference to pasture-ground), or from dispersions brought about by dissensions, various names of places and chiefs must have arisen gradually displacing the names of the original race (gios), and recognizing no longer any patriarch or archezekes, or Great Sheikh, but only the kindred (Kabyle), of their hereditary leader or Sheikh. The latter we see in their peculiar origin in every Arabian camp in the closer union of their relations, and in every great Arabian village, where they live retired among themselves, and frequently by means of a a seriba (enclosure) like families, in the encampment of a people who are of one and the same blood.

The Mahass use the expression gebeirù for Kabyle, and this corresponds with the signification of γένεα. On account of this original connection by blood, no wars occur between them, the boundaries of their pasture-grounds having continued undisturbed among them since ancient times, and been recognized by other tribes, though lying before them in small separate encampments. The Baghara of the left shore are here all mounted, which enables them to make daring incursions into the lands of the Shilluks and Jenugah, who are not horsemen. The Baghara, on the contrary, of the right side of the river in Sennaar, settle themselves very submissively with their whole family to take care of cattle, entrust the charge of the tents to the women and children, and exhibit to the spectators the most strange groups when they move from one place to the other, and kindled fire in the evening to cook by, in front of every tent. Precisely because of their difficulty in moving, contributions are levied on them by the Basha, and they are hostilely visited, on which occasion the Funghs unite themselves to the Turks. The Baghara are also forced to come to the shore for water and pasture, when they are frequently waylaid, robbed, and plundered by the Shilluks, who, however, only requite like for like.

I heard that the Shilluks, who dwell in these parts on the river islands, and on both shores, but further up on the left only, display uncommon skill in their marauding expeditions. The Arabs say they crawl upon all fours as swiftly as a snake; and rarely use force to effect their robberies, but effect their purpose with incredible cunning—a circumstance which agrees but ill with our preconceived idea of the qualifications of a robber. In the East, however (we will not speak generally of the Southern lands); and, indeed, among the ancient Greeks, craft was considered equally worthy of a man as open combat, if it led to the point aimed at. The Shilluks are said also to be compelled to use artifice in this anterior part of their territory; which has extended, according to the expression of the Barabras, up to the mouth of the White River, because their number has become very small by the advance of the Arab tribes, with their horsemen clad in armour, and they could effect nothing by open violence. Peculiar washed-up limestone conglomerates and porous volcanic productions are here found on the shore, as well as a number of small Conchylia; Paludina bulimoides, Melania fasciolata, Neritijachasa Jordani, Cyrene consobrina, and a new species of Physa, distinguished by a plait on the spire.

Nov. 26th.—Before we left Sheikh Mussa, yesterday morning at eleven o’clock, we had an uncommonly stirring and merry time of it. The Rhamadan, fasting month, was luckily over, and the little feast of Bairam, which follows it, was celebrated the more worthily, because Sheikh Mussa had not remained deaf to the friendly persuasion of Suliman, and had had oxen and sheep driven down quite early in such quantities, that the eyes of the whole crew sparkled at seeing them. In a trice the Kashef allotted their shares to the different ships, and sent me also two capital wethers for the next day, the beef here being generally tough and coarse, and even despised by the Turks.

This peculiarity of the meat depends on the nature of the fodder; for the tender grass and herbs of our marsh-lands and pastures are wanting here. And the climate exercises a considerable influence in the hardening of animal texture, which the surgeon himself perceives when operating on the human body. Our Arabs, who, like the Greeks and Jews, born butchers and flayers, know no mercy for beasts or men, fell upon the victims, hamstrung them, to obviate the chance of any resumption of the gift; and the festive hecatomb fell—a sight pitiful to behold. Every one tried, during the flaying and quartering, to cut off a little piece or strip of meat, or stole it from the back of the bearers. This little booty was stuck on skewers into the glowing fires, which were still burning, and voraciously devoured, in order to prepare the stomach for the approaching banquet. Although they know how to roast the liver excellently, they preferred at this moment to cut it up into a flat wooden dish (gadda), to pour the gall of the slaughtered beast over it, strew it with salt and pepper, and so to eat it raw. This tastes not a bit worse than a good raw beefsteak. The ships were drawn up abreast, in order to lessen the procession of the general salutation to the Bairam.

I found Selim-Capitan with Suliman Kashef: the former had thought it well to do homage to the latter as his superior, by offering him his congratulations. Suliman embraced me tenderly, right and left, according to the Turkish custom; and so did every one in his turn, till I began at last to take myself for a Turk, although I did not even know the formula of salutation. Araki (brandy from Aràk, perspiration, distillation) was handed round instead of the coffee (Kawoë) usual at other times; and the servants had enough to do to continue filling the small flagon, in spite of the extreme narrowness of the spout through which the liquor had to pass into the glasses. The Frenchmen also soon appeared in Turkish costume, as we all were; their sabres by their sides, as also is usual at every visit; and, moreover, with their marks of distinction on their breasts. But, in spite of all the airs they tried to give themselves, they were far surpassed by Suliman Kashef in personal imposing dignity; so that no one, even if he did not know the different relations in which they stood, could be in doubt who was of the most importance here. His demeanour is quite simple, but yet of that character that it restricts every pretension to its proper limits; although Arnaud tried to speak like Mohammed Ali, as if he had been his privy-counsellor, and wanted to prove to us that he was a Marquis; whereupon he acquired there and then the name of “Le Prince de la Lune,” in honour of his bald pate and his marquisate in the mountains of the moon.

We set sail, with a faint breeze, at about eleven o’clock, with twenty-nine degrees Reaumur, towards south. I remained with the Frenchmen till noon. Thibaut was soon somewhat the worse for liquor, and uttered all kinds of stale witticisms. Although he has sojourned many years in these parts, he still remains while on his travels a genuine Parisian, who, wherever he goes, never divests himself of the Parisian atmosphere, and interests himself in nothing, properly speaking, but the doings of that city. To-day his brain was haunted with the Parisienne, which he was humming incessantly, although he had not seen the revolution to which it owes its origin.

The two other gentlemen are a perfect contrast: Arnaud affecting to be continually busy, without however producing anything, and throwing out continual bitter taunts against his young colleague Sabatier. The windows are covered with curtains: he does not venture out of doors to make the necessary inquiries; but merely now and then looks at the box-compass, although the vessels turn every moment, and go first to the right, and then to the left shore. The compass, therefore, affords no indication whatever of the course of the stream, for the boundaries of its shore generally decrease from the height of the water, and become undefined; and thus a correction of the compass might possibly be made on the return voyage. Sabatier, on the contrary, appears quite negligent and lazy, because he is not well, and will not endure the arrogance of Arnaud; so that these gentlemen engineers mutually accuse each other of ignorance. In other respects, he seems to me a frank and open youth, who might be taken for an American rather than for a Frenchman, from his having served in Texas.

I found the time hang heavy with these insipid men and the monotonous scenery, and was not a little glad, when the uniformity of the latter was broken by the luxuriant clump of trees on the island of Assal. The island, which is not large, is said to derive its name from honey (Assal), which is collected in great quantities from the trees on it, as also on those of the islands succeeding. This wild honey is blackish, and leaves in the mouth a bitter taste, derived from the wood, mostly sunt. Honey from trees is generally not so fine and palatable as that found in rocks; accordingly, the honey from the Hejaz, nearly white, and almost crystalized, is even preferable to the Grecian. Tree honey is said generally to have something narcotic in it, but then it must be eaten by spoonfuls, for I have not found it so. There is, indeed, a drink prepared from it, which is certainly intoxicating. The blossoms of the mimosa, blooming nearly throughout the whole year, afford the principal resources of the bees, although there is no want of flowers, which, in conjunction with the tanning-bark of the knot-holes, may contribute to the narcotic qualities of the honey. Those nests, hanging loosely, of a species of wasp, which give only a little honey, and are seen in Taka, do not appear here.

The village of Thebidube is next seen on the right shore; it belongs to the great race of the Hassaniës. I was surprised to observe, not far from the village, ruins, clearly the remains of larger buildings than Arabs huts. The place was called Mandjera or Docks, and I learned that the former governor, Kurshid Basha, had founded these extremely convenient docks, owing to the forest being near. They were, however, abandoned by Ahmed Basha, in accordance with the favourite Turkish system—because his predecessor was the founder.

Half an hour above, we lay-to at the village of Masgerag el Tair. Masgerag is said to mean the same as “street;” the whole word, therefore, is “Bird Street,”—but we did not see many birds. Here the Sheikh Mohammed of Wadi Shileï came to greet us. The Arabs of this place also call themselves Shileï, from a Sheikh buried here, although they belong to the main stem of the Hassaniës. An Arnaut of Suliman’s shot, in my presence, a hare whilst running; the ball entered in behind, and passed out in front. The Turks consider themselves the best shots in the world, as well as the best riders:—although they can do little when the animal is running and the bird on the wing, on account of their long and heavy guns.

Believe it or not, you may hear this boast every day, without being able to convince them to the contrary.

Nov. 27th.—Here, on the borders of the Arabian dominions, we waited in vain for a courier from the Basha, fearing lest he should have changed his intention with respect to the expedition. I passed a very bad night. In the middle of the most profound sleep, I was awakened by a fall in the cabin. My good Feïzulla Capitan, the commander of my vessel, had tumbled on the ground from his tolerably high place of rest opposite to me. I thought I heard the death-rattle, and saw by the light of the lantern, that the froth was standing in his mouth, which was firmly closed. The servant very coolly said to me, “Mabegaff!” (don’t be afraid). It was the first time that I had tried to open the hands of a person struck with epilepsy, but upon my doing so, he soon came to himself, to the astonishment of the crew; towards morning, however, he had two more fits. I now learnt, not to my great consolation, that he had from youth upwards suffered this affliction, and that it frequently returned. But my night’s rest was disturbed, and I sat myself on my Bamber before the door, where the sentry very quietly slept. When this fit came on Feïzulla, I sprang to him, without any one else having troubled themselves about him, because he was too good and indulgent to the men. Hard drinking, together with the heat, had contributed perhaps, chiefly to the violence of this attack.

The air was cool, compared with the heat of the day, and the profound stillness of the night was very impressive, through the soft uniform rippling of the water on the stern of our ships; but the snoring of the crew, who were lying pell-mell, was insufferable. I had a peculiar feeling of loneliness and abandonment, not lessened by the reflection that I was on the White Nile,—this stream, the source and course of which had appeared a riddle for centuries to all cultivated nations. As a half-forgotten tradition descending to our days from the infancy of the human race, impels us to explore the Nile, so our expedition is, in the main, nothing but a continuation of the endeavours of the Priests of the Nile, the Pharaohs, the Phœnicians, the Greeks under the Ptolemies, and the Romans under Cæsar and Nero. It is as if mankind in general, like a single individual, were ever seeking anew, with unabated desire, the sources with which the first awakening to intellectual consciousness is connected.

The sun rose to day magnificently behind the old high trees on the brink of the river, when we sailed further to the south. I remarked that the trees standing quite in the neighbourhood of the water or in it, were mostly withered. These, therefore, had had too much of a good thing, and soon died away through the sudden change, when the water left them, although they surpassed in size the older trees behind them. Passing by the village of Damas on the right shore, and the three luxuriantly wooded islands (the most important of these is called Tauowàt), where the vessels made, certainly, many windings, without the course of the shores of the river being ascertained, except that they had a southerly direction. We came towards noon to the mountain group of Areskell, which elevates extremely picturesquely its six or seven rocky peaks on the left shore, although at some distance from it. At their foot lies the large village of Tura, up to which the ships from Khartùm and Sennaar come, for from this place two main roads lead to Kordofan. At two o’clock in the afternoon we were for the first time, with a faint breeze, opposite the mountain, and landed at the village of Masgerag Debasa. We sent our Sandal across to Tura, which, because our fleet and Abu Daoud were dreaded, brought us back wethers and butter. The village itself was not to be seen; it lies, like most of the villages (of which, several in this route are dissimilar, though nothing to signify), as concealed as possible, and further inland on account of the inundation.

At sunset, the country presented a truly charming landscape. The stream, which might have been here about an hour broad, glowed like liquid gold, whilst the sun hid itself behind the Araskòll, and the slender sickle of the moon shone clearer in the west, with Venus, in the cloudless sky. The three islands of Genna, Siàl, and Schèbesha, stood out, with their thick forests, from the tranquil water; and on the other side the pointed peaks of the mountains grew dim in the deep blue, over the dusky woody foreground of the left border of the river, with the charms of an island in the Ægean Sea. Close to me, the shore is enlivened by the coloured and black forms of the crew; some play and wrestle, with songs to the sounds of the pot-drum, (Tarabuka); others lie and squat round the fire, stir and cook by it; others hunt, while some throw themselves into the stream, pursue each other in swimming, dive, and run again to the fires, which, in the increasing darkness, throw magical streaks of light on the water, and repeat themselves in it, with the strange groups illuminated by them. So long as the flesh-pots of Egypt, distributed among them by Suliman Kashef, hold out, they are all of good cheer, and appear to have no other wish than to spend the time agreeably according to their own fashion; to play nonsensical pranks, and make jokes for the amusement of the Turks, and when that is no longer practicable, to return as quickly as possible. With respect to the real design of our expedition, I see on all sides, a negligence and indifference which nearly make me mad. The latitude is 14° 5′.

Nov. 28th—The sun has risen an hour since.—At last the drum was beaten to shew that our Jason, Suliman Kashef, was awake and permitted Selim Capitan to set sail. We had left the two tree-islands, Genna and Sial, on the right, and turned to the left shore. I now found confirmed what I had already remarked—namely, that throughout the left shore, there are not any heights or downs, as on the right. Therefore the stream exercises a far greater dominion over the former, as is plainly seen by the extensive wooded country being inundated. The wide brink of the shore appears principally to lie on the right side of the river, and generally above the level of the left side, which circumstance, perhaps, might be accounted for from the cutting down of the Ethiopian Highlands. We also remarked, from the edge of the right shore being torn away, that a more fertile soil has covered the lower earth, and that the stratum of land is only upon the surface, whereon the downs lay. We found yesterday, near the Island of Tauowàt, a shining black, sandy earth, which Mr. Arnaud called mud: the naturalist, Thibaut, on the contrary, declared it was ferruginous earth; it was, however, nothing else than black volcanic sand. It was mixed with clay, and looked like the laminæ of sifted iron dross; small black crystals formed nearly a third of the component parts, (pyroxene and horne blende, according to appearance). It seemed to have been brought here from the eastern side by a gohr now filled up with mud, or by an old channel of the river, and formed on the shore a layer of about a foot high, above which again was the usual earth strongly alloyed with sand. I had already seen on the right shore volcanic productions. It would therefore be interesting to follow these traces with the gohr into the interior, in order to explain these phenomena in Central Africa.

We quitted the before-mentioned Island of Schèbesha, on the left, and arrived at ten o’clock on the Island of Gùbesha, nearly two hours’ long. If the right shore has unprotected places where the water enters deep into the trees, the inundation also extends so far on the left shore, that the eye may follow over the plain the glistening of the water through cavities and decayed wood. The Island of Hassamë, also very woody, comes directly after Gùbesha, and is soon succeeded by the Duème, which is covered with wood. These islands, according to the eye, extend in a line from south to north. About noon, we had the last-named island at our side, and, for the first time, put into the left shore. Here Mustapha Bey had established a Saghië (a water-wheel, for the purpose of irrigation); and many things of the same kind, as well as a settlement, would have followed, if the good man had not been poisoned. In the neighbourhood of Khartùm, Ahmed Basha, fearing his influence with the population would not permit the purchase of land, as the Bey declared to me himself. He also related his campaigns, in which he reached the “Gazelle River,” and a large lake, from whence the White River issues, and which must be that lake the first expedition sailed through. This is the last place where we shall pass the night ashore, for it behoves us to be secure from the natives. I did not examine our landing-place till the sun was going down, because it did not appear to me advisable to go to the chase with my huntsmen, and to expose myself to the heat of 29 degrees.

The acclivities here extend far backwards into the country, and afford a proportionate extensive survey. I ascended the nearest hill, and was not a little surprised to find, in and upon the black earth, a number of fragments of earthenware, and pieces of burnt brick, as likewise decayed and consumed conchylia. I soon perceived also, new graves, belonging to the small village near at hand, which convinced me that I was standing in an old churchyard, to which the new one joins, because the Moslems never bury another person in the place where once a body has lain. The number of conchylia is easily explained: it is the custom of the people to secure their graves in this manner against wild beasts, which would otherwise root them up; for they always cover them with broken white flints, which do not exist here. This village is new, and was founded by a Faki, a native of the country, who lived a long time in Hejàz, and by the aid of Kurshid Basha, who wanted to make it a strong station. The people, as well as their village, are called on that account Hejasi, which I continually heard pronounced Ajazi; and took for a national name—as the respected Burckhardt did the Ajazi, in Sennar,—until the corrupted word was explained to me etymologically. Not a soul came from the village to welcome us, and an embassy was sent just as little on our side, to fetch a Don gratuit, or Viaticum, since the pious devotees of this place are called, naas batalin (malignant people), and therefore I was immediately recalled from my excursion.

Suliman Kashef was vexed at the non-appearance of the Faki, and was of opinion that he was a devil (Afritt), who must however be spared. Here, in the vicinity of Pagan nations, these Hejazi form a kind of missionary establishment, at the head of which is the Faki as the Sheikh, who, far from imitating the luxurious ostentation of other missionaries in the East, has arrived at last by mortification and eloquence at a self-consecration, and has gained a great number of adherents, even in Darfur, where the Islam has been spread for some time past. He has known also how to maintain his authority by a judicious use of fire-arms; for his rabble of pilgrims are fanatical and insolent. Their slaves, converted per fas et nefas, are the most zealous adherents of the Koran, when they have once breathed the air of Mecca, and return as free Hajjis, to their country, though they have generally only learnt the usual prayer “Allah Akbar,” with the short confession of faith, “La illah ul ullah wa Mohammed Rassúl Alla” (there is no God but God, and Mohammed is the prophet of God).

This formula is sung without intermission, in funeral ceremonies, keeping time to the trot, rather than to the walk of the bearers of the corpse. It is a formula which every traveller here should remark; although I, for my part, have never made use of it, except for a joke with my brother, when he or I lay sick in bed of a fever, and desponding. As the apothecary Bartoli, in Khartùm, a year ago, repeated directly before his death this formula, as a piece of wit which happened to be his last words, the Muslíms, who were present, wanted to carry him immediately to their churchyard, and to return thanks to God for having enlightened him with the true belief.

Kurshid Basha ordered Saghiës to be built here, at his own cost, for the Hejazi; but the scaffolding for them is only to be seen now. I believe, from the various traces of earlier and extensive agriculture, to which these heights owe indeed their irriguous formation, that the fragments of bricks and the potsherds I had just found, belonged to an earlier city, which had fallen to ruin, or been destroyed, and which perhaps stood on the site of the old churchyard. The hill, about thirty feet high, being so close to the water, must have invited a settlement at a very early time. It is clearly perceptible that the water by the river-side has carried away a good deal of the hill. This may have been sufficient cause, for the inhabitants of the city, to desert it entirely. It is true that the soil is here also dark in its lower strata; but it is, however, very strongly alloyed with sand, and has but little resemblance to the greasy and slimy soil of Lower Egypt, and even to the shore of the blue Nile. The process of fecundation in the inundations of the Nile, consists indeed in the vegetable remains of the neighbouring forests, and abundant marsh-plants, which have been washed away, settling and depositing themselves afterwards as a humus, when they have been amalgamated by continual rotation with particles of clay and sand from the dark yellow Nile water, till they become a liquid pap. On the shores of the White Stream the woods are too near, and therefore their fallen leaves are carried away before the vegetable process can have properly taken place. For this reason I account for the fertility being so much less in proportion. After all, I believe that the Blue river is the real parent of Egyptian fertility, and that there was more; before the Dam, thrown up by it on the right ride, prevented it from carrying away also the leaves from the eastern forests. The Atbara and the smaller influxes of the right shore of the blue Nile above, still remain perfect canals of fecundity; and it is plainly seen by their darker colour that they separate at high-water.

Our Frenchmen, this afternoon, set about calculations with a great air of importance, although they did not appear to be well. Sebatier has had an attack of siriasis, and Arnaud has also lost much of his pathos. I hear with astonishment that the calculations made hitherto by these gentlemen, are said to agree to a hair’s breadth with those made by Selim Capitan in the preceding year. Strange! But I don’t believe in such an exact coincidence. It is much more probable that the Turk, being a naval officer, has far more experience than the all-knowing Frenchmen; and that the latter, being well aware of it, adopted their predecessors’ calculations without any scruple.

Selim Capitan laughed when he yesterday instructed Arnaud in handling the instruments. Thibaut remarked this as well as myself; and it perfectly corresponds with the expressions of Sabatier, who calls his colleague an ignoramus, because he abandons to him the calculations he does not know how to make himself.

At a distance of twelve hours’ journey from the before-named Hill of potsherds, near the village of Hejazi, is seen, towards the south-west, a considerable mountain. It is called Bihtsh; which name is found also in the islands of Philæ. I could not find any such word in the language by which I could judge of the analogy of the two mountains. The Gebel Bihtsh is said to contain silver; and at Masgerag Tain it is asserted that silver has been found up the country, from whence came the present, which the Sheikh of Wadi Shileï in that country brought to Suliman Kashef. This present was a stick, curved at the top, some two feet longer than the one in common use from Korosko hither; and though only of the thickness of a finger, was called Hassaie,—an expression which is used besides for a heavy club. This pastoral sceptre was very prettily overlaid with silver, and the ornaments on it merely engraved with a bad knife; and, considering such a wretched instrument, they were of marvellous fineness. In Sennaar, as well as in Kordofan, they know how to wire-draw gold and silver; to make remarkably beautiful zerfs (the inlaid stands of coffee cups), and sword-handles from these metals, displaying good taste; although, particularly in the last-mentioned articles, where crowns as the head-top, and the form of the cross, are engraved on the handle, the whole representing a knight’s sword, called Sefbanbrah; the West and the Crusades have afforded them models.

CHAPTER IV.

MONOTONOUS SCENERY. — CULTIVATION OF DATE-PALMS. — EL AES. — BOUNDARY OF THE TURKISH DOMINIONS. — REPUBLIC OF APES. — HUSSEÏN AGU’S FAVOURITE MONKEY. — CRUELTY OF EMIR BEY. — ADVENTURE WITH A CROCODILE. — BELIEF OF THE TURKS IN THE TRANSMIGRATION OF SOULS. — LIEUT. ABD. ELLIAB, THE DEVOTEE. — THE TAILORING PROPENSITIES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — A “FANTASIE”. — FEÏZULLA’S INTEMPERANCE. — GUINEA-FOWLS. — ABU SEID. — DESCRIPTION OF WATER PLANTS, AND GRAPES PECULIAR TO THE WHITE NILE. — THE AMBUK-TREE. — GEBL DINKU. — ABDURIECKMAN, CHIEF OF THE SHILLUKS, AND SULIMAN KASHEF’S BARBARITY. — HIPPOPOTAMIA, AND CURIOUS SUPERSTITION OF THE SAILORS. — THE DINKAS AND THE SHILLUKS. — THE LOTUS. — MOUNT DEFAFAUNGH. — TAMARIND TREES. — THE TAILOR-CAPTAIN, AND INSUBORDINATION OF HIS CREW. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GNATS.

Nov. 29th.—The fires were still blazing on the shore when the drum was beat for decampment, and the sleepers lying around them were partly obliged to be awaked with good blows in the ribs. To-day, for the first time, we set out before sun-rise. Whether the expression I uttered in a conversation with the two Turkish commandants,—“We must make haste and gain honor from the Viceroy and Basha; for if another expedition should appear necessary, he will certainly place it under the supreme command of a ‘Frank,”—had any thing to do with these unusual exertions, I venture not to decide. It is certain, however, that they dreaded my Journal, for Ahmed Basha declared that he would have it translated into Turkish. A brisk north wind got up with the sun, and we sailed E.S.E., making five sea-miles and a half in the hour, according to the log, which gives, however, one mile for the current or rapidity of the river.

The channel to-day swarms with islands, so that we sailed by at least eight before nine o’clock; when we had one on our left side three hours’ long; others were probably concealed from us. It is really fortunate that trees always indicate the presence of an island, else we might have many times splendidly run a-ground, for the shallows are only slightly covered with water; and the grass, shooting above the surface, proves the frequent fluctuation of different channels. The voyage is very monotonous; though the numerous shallow islands are often grouped very picturesquely, and appear sometimes to bar the river, and to dam it up into a lake. Added to that, we have always the sight of a majestic stream, bordered by green osiers; but the verdure itself offers no variety in the foliage and form of the trees, no blending of colours, since it presents to the sight only mimosas, which are here merely sunt-trees. There is no rock, house, hill, or mountain here whereon the eye, wearied of monotony, can rest, and which might serve as the halting point of imagination; moreover, there is not a sound to be heard in nature. The gigantic American streams can alone produce a similar impression. Although the river in some places intrudes deeper than usual into the right shore, yet the limits of the inundation are always sharply cut off, whereas on the left side the water is seen continually between the dark shaded trunks of the trees, where even the lowest branches do not prevent it from running on in parallel gohrs, or deserted beds of the stream, into other tracks of the river, glittering especially at noon, when it is usually calm. Many of these, which now appear to us to be islands, will, perhaps, when all the water returns, join on uninterruptedly to the mainland. Two shots, the signal of danger to one of the ships, fall behind us, and are repeated by us and the other vessels. Thibaut’s vessel draws water; but the Turks laugh at his anxiety, sail on, and say that he is drunk (sakràn).

Towards eleven o’clock the wood on the right shore opened, and some tokuls were visible on the shore, at a little distance from the river, on a line of hills running parallel with it, and standing near those dome-palms we had hitherto missed, with the exception of the young copse on the water’s edge. The cultivation of dates, which might really be a blessing to the country, in Sennaar, as well as in the extraordinarily fertile Taka, is entirely neglected, although the gardens near the city of Sennaar, like those numerous gardens in Khartùm, afford examples of a very advantageous transplanting in these southern regions. They will doubtless give a refreshing appearance to the latter melancholy-looking city by their rich crowns of fruit, when they once rise over the clay walls and houses surrounding it. But the people, that they may escape the taxes imposed on every date-tree bearing fruit, will not plant and take care of them; neither will they cultivate cotton, because they are obliged to deliver the produce into the Shune at an arbitrary price. Ahmed Basha had 6000 young date-palms brought up by water from Sokkot and Mahass. The ground he chose in his caprice to form a close plantation in, with these trees, lay too low (for he wanted to save the expense of irrigation), and the Nile overflowing it, uprooted and choked with its slime the fine young stems. No Turk thought of washing the slime off and planting them again. The Basha did not grieve at this abortive work, and was even of opinion that the Nile had done well, for the lazy people of the island (Sennaar) would never work again if they once had dates, as is the case in the country of the Baràbras, who could never be good soldiers (askari).

We approached the place, and found only three people there standing by their watched boats; and saw, far on the naked plain, men engaged in driving their cows into the interior to secure them from us. The miserable village, which may number some fifty decayed tokuls, was called El Aes, although it is only a summer village for herdsmen and fishermen belonging to the larger city of El Aes, lying up the country. This city once gave the name of land of El Aes, or Dar el Aes to the whole region up to Khartùm, now known under the name of Wollet Medine, lying above Khartùm, on the Blue Nile. The city of El Aes is one of the principal colonies of the Hassaniës, and was at the time of the Funghs one of the three capitals of the kingdom; the others were Sennaar and the now almost deserted Arbagi on the Blue river. It is also a kind of emporium between the Shilluks and Sennaar, wherein the traders of El Aes, by their slaves, barter Kurbàshes (the whips commonly used here, made from the skin of the hippopotamus), tamarinds, dried bamies, and Uèka, in exchange for horned cattle, durra, and woollen stuffs. The Sheikh el Belled had prudently departed for Khartùm, and could not therefore wait upon us here with a contribution, to become our guide and interpreter through the islands, as he did the preceding year, when Suliman Kashef, without any ceremony, retained him on board ship with his son. On this account we did not land; besides, we feared that our men would desert.

Immediately above the village commences again the forest, and we see by the many dry leaves scattered about that the consumption of firewood, and consequently the accumulation of human beings, cannot be very considerable. As there was nothing to be got we did not remain long. Close to the left shore is an island nearly three hours’ long, one of those fertile plains so numerous here, six more of which we passed, though indeed of less size, up to three o’clock in the afternoon. At this time we landed some two hours’ above the so-called El Aes, near the old and partly withered trees, for the purpose of taking in wood for fuel. The ancient elevated river’s edge, up to which the water can no longer rise, being retained by the downs which are themselves washed up, is plainly visible on the right shore, through the light places.

Now we are beyond the boundaries of the Turkish dominions; that is, properly speaking, beyond the intricate and organized Turco-Egyptian system of plunder. Henceforth, tribute (tulba) is no longer collected. At my question, what people dwelt here, the Turks answered regularly, like the Arabs, “Kulo Abit” (all slaves.) I could not help laughing, and made them understand, to their vexation, that these people are free, and not so much bondsmen and slaves as they are themselves: that they must first take them prisoners to make them slaves, for which they had no particular inclination, and answered me very naïvely, “the slaves here are very numerous and brave!” (shatter.) This contemptuous expression, “kulo abit,” is used by the Ottomans, almost like the classical barbari—that same classical word which the modern Greek has learnt by heart from foreign schoolbooks with a good-natured orthodoxy.

The vessels not being able to reach the dry land, owing to the shrubs and trees, I had myself carried through the water to the shore, in order to take a survey of the country and to make a shooting excursion. I could not, however, make up my mind to use my gun, the only animals in the neighbourhood I could shoot being white-grey long-tailed apes, called Abelènk, similar to the Cercopithecus Sabæus, but more silver-grey and far larger. I had shot such an one on a former occasion, and the mortally wounded animal had, by his similarity to a human being and his piteous gestures, excited my compassion so much, that I determined never to kill another. Mr. Arnaud, on the contrary, took a peculiar pleasure in watching the wounded monkeys which fell by his shot, because, in the agonies of death, the roof of their mouths became white like that of a dying man. It was affecting to see how the mother apes precipitated themselves down from the old sunt trees and secured their young, playing before our feet, behind the high branches, and darted round the corner until another malignant ball reached them from behind, whereupon they let their young fall from their arms, but the little creatures clung firmly to the old one by running, climbing, and springing under her belly. They live together in families of several hundreds, and their territory is very limited even in the forest, as I myself subsequently ascertained. Although they fear the water very much, and do not swim voluntarily, yet they always fled for security to the high branches hanging over the stream, and often fell in, whereupon they, in spite of imminent danger, carefully wiped their faces, and tried to get the water out of their ears before they climbed up into the trees. Such a republic of apes is really a droll sight,—coaxing, caressing, and combing each other, plundering, fighting, and tugging one another by the ears, and, during all these important concerns, hastening every moment down to the river, where, however, they satisfy themselves with a hurried draught, in order that they may not be devoured by the crocodiles constantly keeping watch there. The monkeys on board our vessels not being fastened, turned restless at the sight of the jolly free life, and at the clamour of their brethren in the trees.

The Milàsim Auel (First Lieutenant), Hüsseïn Aga of Kurdistan, lay alongside us, and had endless pleasure in his little monkey. He shouted over to me, “Shuf! el naùti taïb!” (Look! the clever sailor!) meaning his little favourite, who jumped about the mast and the yard as though he were mad, ran down the ropes, looked into the water from the side of the ship, and then strayed from his master, till all of a sudden, he clung to the back of a sailor who was carrying through the water a package of dirty linen to the wash, and before the latter could lay hold of him made a bold spring ashore, to greet his relations, for he also bears the name of Abelènk, although of a much smaller species. He has been frequently carried from Sennaar to Kàhira, where he is called Nishnash and Capuchin. The long Kurd, just as he was, jumped overboard with his gun to shoot the deserter, in favour of whom, I quickly called out, “Amahn.” The little climbing sailor must however, from being a Turkish slave, and on account of his diminutive figure, have met with an unwelcome reception, for no sooner had Hüsseïn Aga stepped under the trees, than the monkey again jumped on his head. He came to visit me afterwards, and brought his “Naùti taïb” with him, who ought to thank himself that I interceded for him. Hüsseïn told me then, what I had often heard, that monkeys were formerly men, who were cursed by God. It really is said in the Koran, that God and the prophet David transformed into monkeys the Jews who did not keep holy the sabbath-day. On this account a good Moslem will seldom injure or kill a monkey. Our Turks, however, were an exception to that rule, when they could, by infringing it, gain a few base piastres; so likewise was Emir Bey in Fàzogl, on another occasion.

The latter was sitting at table with an Italian, and just putting into his mouth a piece of roast meat, held between the fingers and thumb, when a monkey of the cynocephalus (Arabic Khirt) family snatched it hastily from him. The Bey very quietly ordered the hand of Abu Dom (so called from his reddish yellow colour, similar to the fruit of the Doum-palm) to be cut off as that of a robber (Garami), which was done on the spot. The poor monkey came immediately afterwards to his cruel master, and shewed him, with the doleful accent peculiar to him, the bleeding stump of his fore paw, whereupon the Bey ordered him to be killed. The execution, however, was prevented by the Italian, who begged him as a gift, for the purpose of healing him. I came, soon afterwards, into possession of this foolish beast, who contributed as much to the amusement so necessary to me on the return voyage to Egypt, as the filial attentions of my freedman Hagar from mount Basa, whom my brother had received as a present, and bequeathed to me. My servants would not believe but that the monkey was a transformed Gabir (caravan guide), because he always preceded us, and on the right road, even in the desert; and availed himself of every stone and rock to look about him, whereupon the birds of prey frequently drove him under the camels to complain to me with his “Oehm, Oehm.” This complaint he also uttered when he had been beaten, in my absence, by the people, whose merissa he helped to drink, till he could not move from the spot, and committed all sorts of misdemeanours.

I found on the shore large snail shells (Ampullaria ovata), and also some river oysters (Ampulla tubulosa Caill), as well as a number of fresh foot-prints of hippopotami, though we had not as yet seen any of these animals. These river buffaloes must be of enormous size here, to judge from the foot-marks which we made use of to place the large household pots upon.

We had already, however, seen many crocodiles, which are but seldom met with when the water is high and turbid, for they then, like the hippopotami, inhabit sloughs, caused by the swelling of the Nile, because fish are more plentiful there, whilst the graminivorus hippopotami find their nourishment in the thriving marsh plants.

I myself came into very close contact with a crocodile, larger than any I had ever yet seen, whilst both barrels of my gun were only loaded with smallshot. The monkeys had amused me long enough. I advanced, therefore, further up the shore, turned round a huge tree, the right side of which, facing the water, was covered with thick underwood: I soon, however, drew back behind it, for I here nearly walked into the jaws, literally speaking, of a crocodile, as another step would have brought me to the creek, which was quite filled up by the monster, as he lay in front of me. I looked round for my huntsman Sale, an active, good-tempered, but very inconsiderate youth, who carried my rifle; but he was not to be seen. Yet I could not help taking up another position behind the trees, which afforded me protection, in order to fire a volley of shot at the odious beast, whereupon it very quietly retreated into the stream.

When I subsequently reproached Sale, he answered me very naively that I should not hunt so close to the shore, for that he had more than once, whilst gazing at the birds and monkeys in the trees, on looking down, seen the head of a crocodile close before him, glaring at him like a ghost (Sheitàn, Satan); and which he dared not shoot lest he should kill his own father. Of witches and sorcerers who transform themselves and others into beasts, especially into crocodiles and hippopotami, that even in their transformation, still bear the griefs they received when human beings—how injured wives often wither up their husbands’ stomachs, and place them on their backs by magic, &c.—tales such as these we hear related as true, even by those to whom these occurrences are said to have happened. The traces of a belief in the transmigration of souls cannot well be mistaken, although almost entirely obliterated by the Islam; but it is only applied here to the degradation into beasts—such as serpents and dogs.

When at a distance from the shore, it is as well to have a barrel loaded with ball, there being in this region many lions whom we hear roaring at night. One soon, however, becomes accustomed to such dangers, nay, I might say that we are not only rash, but quite foolhardy, in neglecting all precautions and means of preservation, and, therefore, we have nothing to reproach the Arabs with in their everlasting “Allah kerim” (God is merciful, the Dio é grande of the whole of the Levant). To be burdened with guns and shot-pouches is troublesome, owing to the heat; on this account we often sally out without weapons, not intending to go far from the camp, when suddenly, allured from one object to another, we find ourselves at a long distance from it, and, consequently, helpless against danger.

Towards evening cartridges were served out, and muskets loaded, for we are now, for the first time, in a hostile country! The powder-room stood open, and the men with lighted pipes passed continually to and fro unrestrained, over the open hatchway. Allah kerim! I seek to rouse my captain from his indolence by drawing comparisons, every moment, with the English sea-service,—I fall asleep myself whilst the powder is being distributed, and waking early in the morning, find the hatchway still open, and the sentinel, whose duty it was to give an alarm as soon as the water increased in the hold, fast asleep, with the pipe in his hand, and his musket in his lap. Feïzulla Capitan begged me not to report the poor devil (el meszkin).

The upper strata of the ground here are sandy and but little fertile, yet I sometimes sank so deep into water and the livid clay soil that my red shoes stuck fast. Beyond the gently elevated margin of the shore, the ground is flat and bare, with short grass and stunted copsewood, among which the wood usually made for tobacco-pipe tubes in Sennaar, with its light grey rind, oblong-shaped leaves and truncated at the top, is particularly abundant, and very much in request with the crew. The height of the water here was, owing to the great breadth of the inundation, not near so much as further downwards. In Khartùm, where the bed of the river on both sides is contracted by the sides of the shores, it must have been twice as high at this time. The whole inclination of the ground in the territory of the White Stream, sinks from E. to W. The Nile is the best hydrometer for this observation, for I have frequently remarked that the islands in the neighbourhood of the right shore are generally less inundated than those on the left; therefore, in the former, the greater elevation of the eastern bank still continues.

An observation also, which I made on the plains of Meroë, or rather on the enormous plain between the Atbara and the Blue Stream, contributes to strengthen this opinion of mine with respect to the slope of the land from E. to W. It can be plainly remarked there that the rain-water runs off westward, without paying any attention to the direction of the current of the Nile, as its boundaries are now defined by its mountains and high shores.

But now the question is: If my hypothesis of the inclination of these parts from E. to W. is generally correct, what has induced the Nile to take a course diverging from it?

I have only to answer to this, that Khartùm already lies considerably lower than our present course; that further up the country, on the left shore, considerable mountains rise towards the W.—for example—those of Kordofàn, which, now at least, do not allow the river to discharge itself from hence into the Libyan deserts. Indeed, many contests and physical revolutions must have occurred before the White Stream crept into its present channel, where it is nearly stagnant, and which seems scarcely natural in so long a tract.

Nov. 30th.—Towards morning we set out with a tolerably good N.E. wind, and soon after sun-rise made four miles[5] an hour; at six o’clock it was 18, and at noon 28 degrees Reaumur. We sailed till eight o’clock, S.W., and passed by a small wooded island, the grassy foreground of which was picturesquely garnished with trees. The prospect on the stream was shut out from us by four islands, through which we passed towards the south, and left them right and left at our side. Among the trees standing in the water were large, white aquatic flowers, visible even at a distance, which glistened forth magnificently from a floating world of flowers, in the moist splendour of the morning. It was the double white Lotus. The sunt-trees stand in full bloom, and appear, in comparison with the others, to have been of later growth, as they stand here still deep in the water.

We approached near the largest of the before-named islands, which is an hour long, and I remarked that it is elevated towards the interior, in the form of a shield; this is not the case with the others. They are long and flat islands, pieces separated from the shore, existing only as long as the wood on their level backs which restrains the pressure of the waves. They are a proof of a yet uncultivated course of the stream, in a deserted freshwater basin. The water still struggles here against the aspiring vegetation. The trees are of slender growth, but of young and fresh appearance; the moist element promotes a rich, exuberant growth, and just as speedy a death, with the usual tropical power of regeneration. In the interior, however, much stronger trees are found. When we sail towards the south, we leave this island on the left, and turn again south-west, where the head (Ras) of a long island ends, and other islands, to the number of seven, shutting out the back-ground from our view, spread here in such a manner, that the stream appears like a regular Island-sound, which can be better seen than described.

The land also to the right of the left shore presents a clearer view, and beyond the downs, are seen the distant and scarcely elevated old shores of the stream, which, however, judging from their whitish colour, do not indicate fertility; and beyond which, indeed, only isolated copsewood and solitary lank trees could find any subsistence, as I remarked also yesterday on the right shore. I would much rather see beech trees and oaks than these eternal mimosas. Oh, thou good Fatherland! in a distant foreign country we first learn to appreciate thee truly!

At twelve o’clock, a wooded island with a long green tail, appeared on our left, and immediately afterwards another on the right, where the wood stands deep in the water; whilst the islands of the right shore almost always show lower vegetation. The landscape being monotonous, I directed my attention more to the scenes on board, and there surely I found variety enough.

Our lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, from Kurdistan, is a very pious man—to our good fortune! for piety restrains him from wine and dram-drinking. This temperance conduces to the tranquillity of the crew, notwithstanding the predominant inclination of my good Feizulla Capitan, who will never rest till he has exhausted my stock of spirituous liquors, so necessary for an European in these countries. Abd-Elliab says that he has not the Koràn in his head, but in his heart; and is of opinion that we Christians have only strayed from the right path, since the prophet Jesus (el Nebi Issa) was created from God without a father, and that Mohammed understood better this divine messenger (Ressùl) than we. He plays the part, also, of a Hakim belèsh (a surgeon who cures gratis) by repeating pious sentences whilst he ties knots in threads, and binds them round the neck and hands of the patient; or, praying, and blessing wheat, he sews it up in little bags as a talisman against fever and the devil. The Captain, besides his master passion, the incentive to which, to my great peace of mind, will be soon exhausted, has also an extremely interesting minor inclination—tailoring and cobbling, which he pretends to have learnt in England.

Our little black female slaves are right to ornament their noses with rings, for without them, their flat noses would be lost in their dark countenance. As usual, the wind almost ceases at noon. We sailed south with a faint north-east breeze, and make scarcely one mile. At half-past twelve we passed a long grass island on the left, the upper part of which was covered with wood; whilst on the right, another one still extends; and on the left, the high grass of a long narrow back of an island rises up from the water. After we had passed five such river meadows, on the right and left, we landed at four o’clock on the right shore. We found ourselves on the island of Aba, eight to nine hours’ long, and proportionably broad, although I had not remarked the commencement of it.

Suliman Kashef was no sooner gone on shore than loud rejoicings, mixed with the sound of citherns and drums, were heard from thence, and I was sent for. Every festivity, whether it consists in public shows, or in singing, dancing, and drinking, is called here also by the word, usual in Egypt, “fantasie.” The proper expression, however, is “faragh” (joy, pleasure). The former is also used to denote a person who is proud and gives himself airs. Therefore the Turkish “fantasie tshok, paraja jok,” means,—where there is much conceit and no money. Such a Fantasie of the first description was taking place on shore, whilst the servants of Suliman Kashef stood round us, armed and fully equipped. Feïzulla-Capitan was obliged to be carried by force on board his vessel, and it was fortunate that he was able, even in this transport, to recognise me. He grasped at sabre and pistol—I pulled him back: he stamped and cuffed around him as if he were mad, till I clapped his head and heels together, threw him on his bed, and held him fast till he had stormed himself tired, as I would take no notice of his English exclamation—“the devil!—stop a little!—look!” No one but myself dared to lay a hand on him. At last he fell asleep, and the sailors called me, among themselves, “Achù el Bennàht,” and praised my conduct, being such as they had never witnessed before.

Yesterday, I gave occasion for drawing upon me the hatred of one of the roughest of the Egyptian sailors, who was sitting with another at the hand-mill, and repeatedly abusing his companion as a “Nazrani” (Christian), until at last the whole crew looked and laughed into my cabin, the captain not being on board at the time. At last I lost my patience, sprang up, and dealt him a hard blow with my fist on the nape of his neck. In his fanatical horror at being struck by a Christian, he attempted to plunge immediately into the water, and vowed revenge against me, as I heard from my servants.

Now, while Feïzulla Capitan lies senseless, I see from my bed this long sailor leave the fore-part of the ship, and approach our cabin, followed by the looks of the rest of the crew. From a fanatic who might put his own construction on the friendly scene I had just had with Feïzulla Capitan, and might use it in his own favour, I had everything to expect. He paused, however, at the door, apologized and thanked me, for not having reported him to his commander. He then kissed my right hand, whilst, in my left, I held a pistol concealed under the covering of the bed.

The Island of Aba does not appear to be entirely inundated, and therefore, it is covered towards the interior with high grown wood. It is said, that there are several lions here; I think I saw one at a distance, but I did not pursue him. We saw large flocks of guinea-fowls, called here Gedàt el Pharaùn (Pharaoh’s fowls), and which provided us for some days with roast dainties. “Pharaùn” is a word of abuse, but it must have been taken rather from the Koràn than from tradition. I saw many foot-prints of Hippopotami in the muddy roads, which extend from the East westerly to the river, and were already dried up. The earth by that means was exceedingly fertile. Doghen, a kind of corn, commonly used in Kordofan,—bamie, a vegetable with pods, to be met with from hence up to Greece;—and Malochië, a species of spinnage, grow wild here. The numerous birds were very shy, which we attribute to our white dress and red caps.

1st December.—Half an hour before sun rise, we left the Island of Aba, and sailed E.S.E., and had a course of 2¼ miles; in the lapse of an hour this island was on our left. At half past eight o’clock, we had on our right an island, and on the left the shore was bare,—a Steppe, with a few trees and copsewood. The ground beyond and through the trees glimmered, equally bare and waste, of a yellow colour. This eternal shifting of the islands, and winding of the vessel, frequently perverts the look and the prospect of the whole scenery. The Lotus,—the grass extending itself over the water,—and the high reed grass, filled the space between the trees. At nine o’clock S.S.W., we pass the Machada Abu Seïd, before which we have a course of 4½ miles, and immediately afterwards only 3 miles. At this place, where the stream, owing to the rocks crossing from E. to W. forms an inconsiderable current, the water is only 1½ to 2 fathoms deep, and when low, reaches only up to the knee,—a circumstance which must be taken into account for our return voyage. Machada Abu Seïd, is equivalent to “Ford of Abu Seïd,” who, being the patron of navigators, is invoked on the most trivial occasions, like Abd el Kader, by the Bedouins of the desert. It is pretended that this same Abu Seïd crossed the water with his large army, and subdued the people of this place; many stories are also told of him, how he has assisted navigators in their need.

Above this ford or reef, on which entire masses of the Etheria tubifera (Caill) have settled, we passed over the Machada el Ans, which means “Goat’s Ford;” because, in the dry season of the year, even goats can walk through here, when they are thrown by the herdsmen into the water, from one rock to the other.

The lead gives four and a half fathoms between these two Machadas, the log four miles and a half, and the river has one mile in rapidity. Small grassy island tracts extend to the left side of the Nile; and many more islands might, in this manner, continually rise through the gradual alluvial deposits. The trees are generally of the dwarf species; and there are only solitary higher ones, which overtop the others, and have withstood the winds, by reason of the soil being moistened continually by water. A number of scattered water-plants form floating islands of large and small dimensions, frequently presenting quite a surprizing appearance. At noon we came so close to such an island, which had been held together by a kind of water couch-grass, and was joined on to the shore, that we tore off one entire portion of it, and set it moving like a little aquatic world of the most diversified description of plants. The base of this floating vegetable world was formed by the pale green velvet-plant everywhere met with, and which spreads itself like the auricula, has fibrous roots, and is intermixed with green reeds, but appears to have no flowers. The stalk-like moss, spreading under the water, with slender white suckers, like polypi, on the long streaks beneath, was another principal ingredient in the formation of this island. Then comes a kind of convolvulus, with lilac-coloured flowers, with its seeds, like those of the convolvulus, in capsule-like knobs, and leaves like those of buttercups.

The character of the whole of this island world acquires such a blooming appearance here, that one believes oneself transported to a gigantic park situated under water. Entire tracts are covered with the blooming lotus. The trees, shrubs, and creepers, with their manifold flowers, enjoy a freedom unknown in Europe, where every plant is restricted to its fixed season. The life, buds, and bursting into development of the different plants appear to be arbitrary, for rain, water, and the height, depth, and quality of the soil have such effect, that the very same species often display entirely different stages of progression. From the tall dark mimosas, and other trees, down to the waving reeds, and the spikes of the high grass shooting out of the water, a vegetable life spreads with a freshness and fulness bordering on the marvellous. The splendid leaf-like webs of lianias form hills of flowers with garlands, and wave and shine afar in various colours, like magnificent hanging tapestry.

MOUNT N’JEMATI, APRIL 13, 1841.

It is a strangely beautiful sight to see these exuberant plants, sparkling in various colours, keeping down the more sturdy ones. However, on our voyage back, the scene had so altered, that it was with difficulty we could persuade ourselves that here it was so wonderfully beautiful before. Together with the various species of convolvulus, the blooming ambak-tree contributed to enhance the variety of flowers. The Arabs call it ambak, although they are only acquainted with its dry light wood, which floats down to them. The tree grows only in the river itself, or in a swamp, and when the water recedes, dies away to the root. The rapidity of its growth surpasses that of the rising of the Nile, and shoots up from ten to fifteen feet above its highest water-mark. It rises in a conical form out of the water, but decreases again towards the root, and is, in the middle, as thick as a strong man’s arm. The wood is throughout of a spongy nature, and can be called only fibrous pith: it is overlaid with a dark green rind, which is also furnished with a rough brownish hue and small imperceptible arcuated thorns. The branches fix themselves on luxuriant soil, like the acacias with us, and towards the ends are quite green and rough; the leaves are twinned like those of the acacia; the foliage is full of sap and green like reeds. The yellow bean-flower grows single, but in great profusion; it is an inch and a half long and broad, and has ten stamina round the pistil.

The top of a mountain, of which, at the moment, I could learn no other name than that of Geb’l Dinka, rose, about nine o’clock, to the S.S.W. This was a welcome sight to me, as it seemed to promise, from the distance, something more magnificent than the hills, or would-be mountains, that had hitherto appeared in the horizon. We make four miles and a half, and the rapidity of the stream still remains one mile, although the water before this Machada seems to have no fall, and only to be set in motion by the pressure from above. At two o’clock we had on the left, towards the east, Geb’l Dinka, so termed by navigators, but more correctly called Geb’l N’jemati, which is said to denote a group of mountain tops. Two rocky ridges especially project, and seem to belong to the granite formation.

The thermometer was, at sunrise, 18°, at noon, 26°, and from three to five o’clock 28°, Reaumur. The flower island continues on the right and left, and we have four miles course. The grass and reed tract of islands appears on the left shore like pasture-ground, closed by shady trees in the distant background. At six o’clock, sunrise, we sailed past the mountain of the Dinkas, which I was glad I had delineated before, for it presented here nothing picturesque. The people of the Dinkas (sing. Dinkauï) were not to be seen, because they had betaken themselves to the interior, to sow their fields with durra and dòghen. These fields are said to lie in the Chaba; and it seems probable to me that this forest is situated in a basin, as in Taka, wherein the rain and effusion of mountain-streams must be long retained, because otherwise the land would be too dry for sowing; or the inundation of the Nile seizes those partially, on old beds of the river, which have been dammed up on the lower side, and would therefore be dried up if there were no effusion of water.

At some distance from us I was shewn tops of trees, which were scarcely perceptible, marking the island of the late great Sheikh, or Mek Abdurachman (Abd el Rahman), who was a chief of the Shilluks (sing. Shilkaui), and a sworn enemy to the Arabian intruders. On the former expedition, Suliman Kashef, who had made the acquaintance of this dreaded chief, and had lost many men by his predatory expeditions, wanted to convince himself whether he was really dead; and, in the savageness of his heart, ordered the body to be dug up, in order that he might convince himself of the fact. They were all not a little rejoiced at finding the truth confirmed.

Darkness prevented us from distinguishing the complication of islands which were still continuing. We lay to about eleven o’clock at Ambak, an island towards the left shore; and the sails being clewed, we make only two miles and a half in the hour, in order to wait for the Sandal, which was behind-hand. Immediately close to or down by these trees, we had four fathoms in depth; and yet they stood some fifteen feet above the water, which extraordinary height they are said to attain in one year, for they fall down and wither away when the water recedes.

Towards evening, a hippopotamus bellowed from the reeds quite close to us. An old sailor, partaking of the superstition which I have already mentioned, bid him immediately “Salam aleikum” (peace be with thee), but he answered not a word; whereupon a peculiar silence reigned among the crew, who believe in a possible voluntary or involuntary transformation into beasts by sorcery.

2nd December.—We set sail before sunrise, towards S.S.W. The rocks of N’jemati lie to the N.N.E. of us, and on the left a mountain elevates itself to the S.S.E. at about six hours’ distance. We soon made three miles and a quarter, and from eight o’clock four and a quarter, and the breadth of the river was generally estimated at two miles. Near the reed or marshy islands, a kind of meadow cat’s-tail grass is prevalent, having a broad flat blade of bright green, in the middle of which runs a white streak lengthways. This grass has thick connecting tubes, from which the fibrous roots depend. The stalk, which is the thickness of a thumb, rises, with knots, to the height of four to five feet, and is surrounded with numerous brown leaves, completely inclosing it. It has ears like wheat, growing in a bunch to the number of five or six, containing grain, which is eaten by the people. It might be called the low-reed, from which the high-reed is distinguished by rising to a height of ten to twelve feet, and having straight knotty stalks, the thickness of a finger, narrow leaves, and on the top a cluster of leaves, from which large bulrush ears project, the seeds of which are scarcely perceptible. Close to this grows the luxuriant water couch-grass, with drooping blades the breadth of a finger, having a delicate blue hue; and a dark green aquatic grass, with narrow horizontal blades, from which branches a rush-like crown of seeds.

Feïzulla Capitan has, at last, entirely exhausted, not only his own, but also my stock of spirituous liquors, which he used to partake of in his debauch, as if they had been his own property. His days of atonement have therefore commenced; he takes the Koràn with a long face, and puts on the airs of a great Faki, on account of which Suliman Kashef calls him Hodshà. The great Paradise-Stormer, from Kurdistan, listens to him with profound devotion, and corrects him very zealously, for he really seems to know the whole Koran by heart.

After eight o’clock, a large reed island appeared on our left. Floating couch-grass islands, covered with the pale green aquatic plants so frequently seen, meet us, and often draw a ship round with them. The current of the water may separate these islands from the shore, and disconnect them from the lake; or storms, and the mighty inhabitants of the stream, when they are forcing roads with their corporeal masses, may cut them off and set them in motion. At ten o’clock, for the first time, on the right shore, Sunt appears on an island with all kinds of shrubs and grasses, and the aquatic acacia Ambak. The country on the banks of the Nile consist of, at the same time, a broad pasture-land, with young high grass, whilst the breadth of the river here is an hour. Towards the South an endless channel disclosed itself, in which the water vanished by degrees with the horizon,—a sight which we had not yet seen on the white stream, and which was very much desired to define the latitude and longitude. On the left, also, approached an island with the before-named characteristics. I conclude, however, from the height of some Sunt-trees, that it had firmer ground towards the interior, although its beautiful flowering margin displays, as it were, floating hills of flowers over the copsewood, with their tendrils and grasses. At eleven o’clock, the log gave four miles and a half, and at twelve o’clock we were obliged, from want of wind, to lay-to at an Ambak-island. The wind returned, however, after a short time, and we sailed through a sea of green grass or reeds, where we saw over the extensive gently rising right shore a large city of the Dinkas, though we were not able to approach, owing to the reeds.

The Dinkas were seen at a distance, jumping in the air whilst they raised one arm, and struck their shields with their spears. This appeared to me rather a challenge than an expression of joy, as I concluded from the war-dances, the representation of which I had before witnessed. Their city is said to stretch far beyond this ridge, which the trees prevented us from remarking. Long swampy islands, with reeds and other plants, entwined one with the other, extend from their country to the middle of the stream. This is the case also, though on a reduced scale, on the left side. The distance of the shores from one to another is more than an hour. The reeds form in this manner a protection, which even when the water is at the highest is not to be overcome; just as at low water the Machadas form such a defensive barrier. In the same manner the Shilluks on the left shore have a marsh of reeds, under water, for protection. The Turks have managed, however, to come at these two nations by land. Suliman Kashef himself has twice defeated the Shilluks on the boundary of his district. These sudden and crafty attacks of a Chasua cannot, however, be called wars or battles. The animosity of these people to the Arabian hordes and marauding system goes so far, for example, that when they take a Bakhàra prisoner, they beat him to death with cudgels, death by the Harba (spear) being considered too honourable. On the contrary, they do not kill the Dinkas whom they may take captive, because they consider them as aborigines and old neighbours. The Arabs, however, do not slay the Shilluks taken prisoners by them, not so much out of respect to the Koràn, as from their inherent selfishness. When the Bakhàras come to the river to graze the cattle in the grass, which, after the reeds have been burnt away, contains nourishing fodder, there are continual petty wars between the Shilluks and Bakhàras, in which the latter display considerable bravery, as Suliman Kashef himself admits.

At three o’clock in the afternoon, we continue to sail towards the South in this immeasurable tract of water. On the right and left are partly grass islands, and partly reedy marshes, which join on to the shore, and must, when the water is higher, before the overflowed vegetation has yet made its way to the surface, form a regular long lake or gigantic stream. After four o’clock we landed on the right shore, where the white lotus was distinguished in the pools amongst the trees, with far larger flowers than is the case where neither shrub nor tree shelters it from the sun. The blue lotus (Nymphæa cærulea) called Loss by the Nubas and Baràbras, appears no longer here. On the left shore the smoke of signal-fires, certainly the most ancient kind of telegraph, ascended on all sides. At six o’clock we sailed again, and halted at a quarter past ten, just as the moon went down. A soldier plunged into the water and sank as he was about to touch land, probably seized by a crocodile. At sun-rise 18°, noon 26°, evening 24°, and after midnight, in the open air, 17° Reaumur.

3rd December.—Half an hour before sun-rise we proceeded, with a due North wind, towards the South. It was sensibly cold, though we had 16 degrees of Reaumur. Low and marshy land again at the side,—partly islands before the shores, properly speaking, the elevation of which was scarcely perceptible on the left side of the river. We had seen yesterday and the day before a few solitary tamarinds. Now they were very abundant, and the various shades of light and dark green of these beautiful trees, with their luxuriant foliage, cause a delightful sensation. Their fruit, so grateful in these parts, with its agreeable tartness, the first and last means of support of the Ethiopians, is called in the land of Sudàn, Aradepp; but in Egypt, Tammer-el Hendi (fruit of India); which seems to indicate no very great commercial intercourse between the Egyptians and Ethiopians. So also the rich gum-trees of these parts, from which the ancients derived equally little towards their immeasurable consumption of gum and resin, have first been used for the purposes of commerce in more modern times. From nine to ten we advanced four or five miles. The right shore a magnificent low country. Tamarinds, creepers of a large species, and the lotus shining in great numbers, like double white lilies. This stellated flower opens with the rising of the sun, and closes when it sets. I noticed, however, afterwards, that where they are not protected in some way from the ardent heat, they likewise close when the sun approaches the zenith. Some of their stalks were six feet long, and very porous; from which latter quality these stems, as well as the flower and the larger leaves—dark green above, and red-brown beneath, with a flat serrated border,—have a magnificent transparent vein; but become so shrivelled, even during the damp night, that in the morning I scarcely recognised those which I had over night laid close to my bed on the shore. The ancient Egyptians must, therefore, have been quick in offering up the lotus. The flower peeps out, however, only a little above the water, and the fruit sinks downwards, either from natural inclination, or from the weakness of the stalk, because the water, by the formation of it, has already fallen. The flower has above twenty tapering white leaves, arranged around a calix of a yellow gold colour, which is similar to that of the Nymphæa in our millponds. The fillet, from one and a half to three inches in diameter, is like a compressed poppy-head, and ring-like incisions extend from its imperceptible corolla to the stalk. The extraordinarily small white seed lies in a brownish, wool-like envelope, and fills the whole capsule. Not only are the bulbs, as large as one’s fist, of the lotus eaten, but also the seed just mentioned; they mix it with sesame, and other grain, amongst the bread-corn, which circumstance I ascertained afterwards, as we found a number of these lotus-heads strung in lines to dry. To our taste, the best way to dress the bulbs, and to free them from the marshy flavour they leave behind in the mouth, is to drain the water off several times in cooking them; they then taste nearly like boiled celery, and may be very nourishing; but I would not be a Lotophagus here, for I had much rather eat potatoes with their jackets on. Although there are a number of bulbous plants in these parts, serving for food to the natives, (specimens of which I collected, but they were spoiled for want of earthen vessels to keep them in,) yet potatoes might not thrive here any more than in Egypt, which is far colder, as they would become watery, by the continual irrigation, this being the case even with the grasses.

We sail S.S.W., make four to five miles, and have on the right hand grass marsh-islands. The expanse of water before us is limited only by a tree; to the left also of the right shore, a small ridge of heights displays itself, which may be considered as isolated alluvial deposits of downs. Nevertheless, it is sufficiently clear to me, that it is almost impossible to make an accurate map from a single voyage; this seems to have struck also the very learned Arnaud, for he is always consulting Selim-Capitan. Sabatier is ill, and the task therefore devolved on Arnaud, not only of observing the course of the river, but also the direction, beginning and end of the islands, &c., and all this with the windows hung with curtains! He may find out that the vessel is continually changing its course, but he could scarcely in this manner make a map of the stream, even if an air-balloon were placed at his disposal.

Twelve o’clock, five miles, 22°, and at three o’clock, 26° Reaumur. On the left shore, close to us, is the hill of Giràb el Esh, (sack of corn), which name has also been given to a Sheikh of the Shilluks living there, to denote his corpulence, a very rare thing in that country. We were pretty close to the right shore, the extreme edge of which rises some three feet above the still high water. The earth is dark, and here occurs the first precipitous shore we have seen on the white stream. The marshy world springing luxuriantly on the left shore, checking the stream, appears to press the current to the right side of the river, and by that means the water is always deeper next to the latter side. Marshes, with the usual phenomena, soon shew themselves again in the primitive bed, properly speaking, of the stream, so that we were forced again into serpentine windings.

On the right shore, close to the mountain which we had seen on the 2nd of December, at sunrise, and which is the Defafaungh so much spoken of in Sudàn, high dome-palms, with small heads, rise over the tamarind-trees. The mountain itself is bare and rocky, and, except one precipice, descends towards the river without any steep declivity. So likewise the mountains we had hitherto seen had always a gentle descent towards the stream, a proof that the waters have not here undermined or compressed the ribs of the mountains towards the river, as is the case in Nubia and on the Rhine. Defafaungh stands there alone, like the mountains Taka, an island, as it were, in an extensive and dry basin.

At noon we sailed past the rocky hill, four or five hundred feet high, and went W.S.W. without my having seen through the telescope the ruins and pyramids (Taralib) of brick (Top ahmer), supposed to be there. At all events, I shall take care to lie to here on our return voyage. Soon after appeared, on the left shore, a hamlet consisting of about twenty huts, shaped of bee-hives. The people did not shew themselves, because the good name of the Turks has spread even thus far. The mountain is seen, from the raised deck of the cabin, rising in the landscape; and we perceive a grassy marsh-island extending from the right shore, in the form of an arch, into the river, and forcing it into a direction W.S.W. In this inlet lies the village I have mentioned, and immediately afterwards a second one. Suliman Kashef had spied out something with his eagle eyes: he went ashore to seize some sheep, whilst shots were fired in the air to frighten the owners. We all followed his good example.

At five o’clock we sailed from hence W., and then W.N.W.; made three miles, and followed the course of the river to S.W. As the sun sets, we seem to sail through a blooming park. On the right shore are isolated dark tamarinds, shining like gold, magnificent masses of creepers, and bowers of flowers on a green, grass ground, the blooming lotus shining through them. We extend our gaze across this island over the country, on the right shore, and perceive only a few tamarinds. The sun having already set, we turn to W.N.W. The sky, somewhat clouded, throws splendid masses of shadow, completing the charming landscape, upon the island, round which the ships moved in a line, grazing its cheerful verdure. On the right shore the interior country is somewhat elevated, a circumstance which we noticed at the abovenamed rocks. Whilst our vessel sails N.W., the others before us double the bend of the left shore; towards the S.

Night appears; the river turns again N.W., and the north wind, though scarcely blowing, drives us towards the left, against a vessel, strenuous rowing being unable to prevent this misfortune. Contention between soldiers and sailors: no subordination, no nautical skill. The ships strike every moment one against the other; then follows an intolerable running here and there of the crew—pushing, throwing down, hoisting, and bawling; in short, a frightful hurly-burly, because one wants to sail before the other; and my indifferent tailor-captain remains quietly at his labour, and sews so much the more industriously! The Kurd Abdu Elliàb gives himself airs in vain; although he had told me shortly before this, that no officer in the whole regiment was so feared as himself, yet the soldiers will not listen to him, but fight with the sailors. I, for my part, can do nothing since Feizulla Capitan, who had nominated me, in his absence, as his Wakil (deputy), was on board. At last we proceeded again till twelve o’clock at night.

4th December.—An hour before sunrise, we advanced, with a N.E. wind, S.S.W., without sails; halted here and there to wait for two ships tarrying behind, which had run upon the very shallow ground on the right side of the river, and were obliged to put back in order to get into the course of the stream; it was 15° Reaumur: from nine to towards eleven o’clock S.W. On the right two villages, with huts like beehives, at which we saw three Sürtuks (periaguas) raised on a tree. In the forest we perceive many Shilluks, who seem to look upon us as neither enemies nor as friends. Immediately above this we lay-to at the left shore, to wait for the two ships which we now saw at a distance. There are no sunt-trees here; on the contrary, several luxurious tamarinds, which thrive in a damp soil. The Nile is at this place more than two hours’ broad, including the Grass Islands. At twelve o’clock, again towards the W., then W.N.W., and at 1 o’clock S.W., which direction we followed till sunset at six o’clock in the evening, and with a very faint breeze.

On the right shore the more elevated land was planted with isolated dark green tamarinds, a lively contrast to the blue sky; the left displayed at a distance a bare high shore, on the margin of which stood a few trees, and before them a grassy sea extended, so that the river has, with this, a breadth of an hour and a half. The rapidity of the stream was so inconsiderable here, that the log gave no result. A shining, white, water-road lay before us; yet, from a calm having set in, we could only advance but slightly with rowing. The venomous gnats which, as well as large camel-flies and small wasps, have made their appearance these three days, become more abundant, and are said to be found in such quantities further south, that we shall neither be able to eat, drink, nor sleep.

CHAPTER V.

A STORM. — TOKULS OR HUTS OF THE SHILLUKS. — THE TALLE, A SPECIES OF MIMOSA. — THE GEÏLID. — THE BAMIE. — UEKA. — WILD RICE. — OMMOS. — THE SHILLUKS A LARGER NATION THAN THE FRENCH! — IMMENSE POPULATION ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE ARM OF THE NILE. — THE HABAS OR FORESTS. — A TURKISH JEST! — LEECHES. — DISEMBARKATION ON THE LAND OF THE SHILLUKS. — DESCRIPTION OF THE TOKULS. — CONDUCT OF THE BEDOUINS TOWARDS THE PILGRIMS TO MECCA. — THE MURHAKA. — MANNER OF CATCHING GAZELLES. — SÜRTUKS OR CANOES OF THE SHILLUKS. — REFUSAL OF THE KING OF THIS NATION TO VISIT THE VESSELS. — TREATMENT OF HIS AMBASSADORS AT KHARTUM. — THE BAOBAB TREE. — DHELLEB PALMS. — WINDINGS OF THE RIVER. — OSTRICHES. — HILLS OF ASHES OF THE DINKAS. — RIVER SOBAB.

5th December.—We had cast anchor yesterday evening in the middle of the river, partly to prevent our being surprised by the natives, and partly because landing was impossible, for the shores were a mere swamp far and wide. The calm continued during night; but, before daybreak, such a storm suddenly set in, that the ships, dragging after them the anchors, were slung round, and ran one against the other, when abuse and blustering on the side of the captain as well as of the crew vied even with the tempest. It was fortunate that the morning broke, and that the Habùb changed into a good N.E. wind, enabling us, for the first time, to make six miles in the hour. The depth of water was in the night five fathoms and a half, and the rapidity of the river half a mile. The ships presented a beautiful sight on the smooth water territory, which, being of a dazzling purple colour, from the reflection of the clouds driving from the north, drew them along like two mighty serpents through a green sea of floating grass.

At six o’clock this morning, several villages were seen on the left shore in the land of the Shilluks. I counted twelve or fifteen close to one another; and in half an hour afterwards again eighteen or twenty, the last of which we passed about nine o’clock. We have still six miles to make, and go W.S.W. for a short time; then again in the main direction of S.W., where groups of Tokuls, joined to one another, continue on the left shore, and lie on the old bank of the river. The Arabs say that this is the capital of the Shilluks, and is called Dennap. The latter word means, however, the tail of an animal, and is therefore applied by them to the length of the row of Tokuls, as being analogous, although the name, properly speaking, is Kak. The structure of the huts is the same as that of the Tokuls in Beled-Sudán, with this difference, that the roofs are not conical, but arched.

Now, at ten o’clock, whilst the river is winding towards the south, I remark, on the left shore, at about an hour and a half distant, a large village, connected probably with the others, which are concealed only by trees. Before it lies an extensive marshy meadow-land. On the right shore is displayed a yellow line of the dry high grass, because, owing to its height, the shore here is less exposed to inundations. The channel of the river receives through this course of the genuine shore an enlargement scarcely to be defined, whilst the trees of the old left bank extend in a narrow close line, which, at this moment, (half-past six o’clock,) is certainly two hours long. The right shore continues flat, and forms, like the left, an immeasurable grassy sea, the limits of which cannot be distinguished even from the highest point of the vessel; for the isolated yellow tracks, though almost imperceptible, may be likewise little fertile elevations in the marsh land, tamarinds being scattered right and left. The stream covering all these grasses, which are but of young growth, must have formed here, therefore, a short time ago, a regular lake.

In the low ground lying close to the river, which the tamarinds I saw yesterday shew to be dark marsh ground, I, for the first time, examined closely, a kind of mimosa, called talle, distinguished by its reddish rind from the whitish rind of the tamarind, the boughs of which are twisted nearly like those of oaks. The rind of the talle-tree is used like that of the geïlid, to be burnt as a perfume: a little also, grated, and strewn on the merissa, gives it a piquant flavour. The geïlid is in its whole form like the pear-tree, only its leaves are smaller, and the esculent fruit is similar to an olive.

Towards eleven o’clock we sailed S.E. On the left hand a regular lotus-sea extended to the right shore. The lotus must, no doubt, have once existed in Egypt in similar exuberance amongst analogous circumstances of marshy soil, before it could have been reckoned among the means of subsistence. The yellow colour which I at first took for dry reeds, proceeded from the dry stalks of the bamie (called Uèka), which cover the land, elevated about four feet on the right shore, to an immeasurable distance, and suffer no other plants to rise among them, as they grow quite close. The fruit, here very small and rough, had, without being gathered, burst altogether from the husks. At noon we proceeded Eastward, and the N.E. wind drove some of the vessels into the stream towards the shore on the other side, so that we were obliged to have recourse to towing; then arose the usual contention about precedence.

At one o’clock we lay-to at the Bamien shore. The soil is tolerably good, and black, though strongly mixed with sand; and the few geïlid trees upon it have acquired an unwonted strength. Numerous nests of sparrows and finches were perched on the dry stalks of the bamie, and feed on its seeds. This uèka is plucked whilst green, cut through, and dried, ground fine in the hand-mill (Murhàka), and serves throughout the country for broth to the farinaceous food. There were four villages in our neighbourhood, and we observed palms at about an hour distant.

At two o’clock we left this place, and had recourse again to Libàhn, however unwillingly the crew betook themselves to this towing. Further on we descried villages, and as far as the eye could reach, the land was all covered with uèka, fields of which sloped with a gentle descent to the river, though the young plants had been invisible, till the present time, upon the parts already dry. It does not appear to me probable that these fields have been sown by the hand of man, for otherwise the old stalks would have been removed, unless they are left to protect the young plants from the heat of the sun, till they are able to cover the ground with their own foliage; for artificial irrigation is not to be thought of here. The Dinkas, who inhabit these regions, as well as the Shilluks, on the left shore, besides living on corn (Durra and Doghen), feed on the fruit of the geïlid, frequently met with here, and on the seeds of the various species of high grass, denominated, so significantly, “Children of Grass” (Genna el Gesh), to which also a kind of wild rice (Rus Suhillkai) belongs. They also feed on cattle, sheep, and goats, and do not despise the flesh of the crocodile, or the hippopotamus.

In the afternoon our course was generally S.E. From the deck two rivers are seen, which join and separate, whilst meandering through the indefinitely extended green grass lake. At five o’clock we directed our course W.S.W., and the lingering north wind setting in, allowed us to make use of our sails. The wild bamies still continue, intermixed here and there with Ommòs (Italian Ceci), a sweet fruit, with a pod, much liked in Egypt. On the right shore, otherwise bare, we see here and there a tree, and an arm of the stream stretches far into the land.

Towards sunset the sky was somewhat clouded, but so much the more magnificent appeared the broad tranquil river, expanding before us, and in which our ships were reflected, as in a mirror, whilst solitary small islands floated around us in all the lustre of green and gold. The left shore is covered with trees, and the horizon bounded by solitary huts. We halt when it becomes calm; but at my persuasion, take to our oars till we come up to Suliman Kashef’s vessel. About nine o’clock we sail S.W. with the N.E. wind blowing up, and make, up to half-past one o’clock, three miles in the hour. Southwards till the evening. Depth of the stream, in the middle of which we anchored, four fathoms.

6th December.—At day-break S.W. by S., five miles. At some distance from the left shore villages, said to continue in an unbroken line, on account of which the Kurd thinks that the Shilluks are a larger nation than the French. An enormous meadow land lies in the water before the river’s edge, upon which tokuls are observed, at not quite an hour’s distance, called Biut (from Beit-House), because these huts, as it is said, are somewhat different in form from those commonly met with in the land of Sudàn. The right shore joins the horizon in a wide creek, and approaches us again at half-past eight o’clock, when we are sailing S.W., whilst the villages on the deserted ancient shores, extend from west to south. The large villages of the Dinkas appear now on the right bank, with a marshy foreground of three quarters of an hour in breadth, having a very monotonous appearance, and being almost without a tree. Opposite lie two large villages, honoured with the name of Helle (City), upon gently elevated downs, in an elliptical arch. The larger city may contain about one hundred tokuls, and is said, according to Selim Capitan, to be called Minianàk. Immediately afterwards four other villages appeared; the projecting wood did not permit us to discover any others that there might have been. The bare shore of the Dinkas is enlivened by six large villages, and a seventh appeared on the horizon S.S.W.: they lie an hour and a half distant from the water, and certainly the enormous Bamian field, by its slightly undulating form, concealed from our sight yesterday many villages. Here also, as among the Shilluks, it is said that Helles join one to the other in a line, for the space of several days’ journey. Four miles course, and half a mile the rapidity of the current. The villages on the right shore lie generally higher than those on the left.

There is certainly no river in the world the shores of which are, for so great a distance, so uninterruptedly covered with habitations of human beings. We cannot conceive whence so many people derive their nourishment. There are some negroes on the left shore, lying without any clothing on them, in the grass; therefore the ground cannot be covered to any height with water. They made gestures, and greeted us with uplifted arms; but our people thought that we could not trust such a friendly welcoming, for they might have concealed their spears in the grass, in which, perhaps, a whole troop of men were hidden.

Neither these Shilluks nor the Jengähs, up the river, possess horses or camels, but merely sheep and cows. When they take a horse or camel from the Turks, they do not kill it—probably not eating the flesh of these animals,—but put out its eyes as a punishment for having brought the enemy into their country. Those animals, being introduced from Asia, may indeed, with difficulty, withstand the marshy nature of this land, as may be inferred from what usually takes place in Taka, where, on account of their great mortality during the damp season, they are driven to the more elevated parts (Gallas). Whether a kind of animal worship lies under their not killing these beasts, I do not venture to determine. Towards the south the shores contract, and the villages also approach nearer to the river.

At half-past nine o’clock the left bank, close at hand, presented a real forest of tamarinds, which also traverses the lower covered pasture-land, or follows, in an irregular form, the newer line of the shore, caused by the descent of the stream. An incredible number of birds appear on all sides; these airy attendants of the marshes devour terrestrial animals, which perish through the overflow of water, and would otherwise entirely poison the air, as in Egypt. The trees, standing singly, are, for the most part, quite white, from the excrement of the birds, and naturally die away. On the old undulating left shore are as many as eight villages; to the left hand, two long rows of the peaks of tokuls, distant, perhaps, about two hours’ journey; those on the right hand being half an hour from our course. The old banks, however, do not come close to the river, as we at first thought, but appear to have their main direction towards S.W. The stream winds in two arms through the grass, marshy meadow-land, which is at least two hours’ in breadth, and seems once to have formed the bed of the primitive stream. The right shore is bare, without trees, and possibly, from its higher situation, prevents the Nile from producing any green land. On the contrary, we see in the hollow on the right hand, five or six heads of palms, appearing to be dome-palms.

About twelve o’clock, we remark in the bare horizon, on the left hand, nine villages of the Dinkas; and on the right, immediately behind the trees of the low country, generally on a level with the river, only raised here and there, seven villages of the Shilluks, on the borders of the green vegetation lying in front of them. The meadows before these villages are skirted indeed by trees, but between them, and in the background, no vegetation, except copsewood on parched grass-land, is discerned; whereas on the right shore, where the villages may be from two to two hours’ and a half from us, not a tree is to be seen on the enormous grass plain,—not even near the huts themselves. We sail S.W., half-past twelve o’clock, where to the right of the left shore, some groups of huts extend in a bamien field, which is already parched, and bounded in the back-ground by trees in full verdure. When the inundation takes place, it is impossible that these huts can be inhabited, from their low situation. An island, with two hills, extends to the right side of the shore.

Whilst Suliman Kashef’s vessel was making a bend before us, in order to sail on the other side, Feïzulla Capitan, who was standing aloft, on the cabin, determined to keep on his course. Suliman Kashef no sooner remarks this, than he sends two shots at Feïzulla Capitan, so close that I myself, who was standing before the door of the cabin, heard the balls whistle. The latter remained quietly standing, although, according to his own assertion, as well as that of the sailors who were aloft repairing the sails, the balls flew by within a hand’s breadth of his head: he merely said, “Malesh—hue billàb” (it is nothing—he is jesting). Feïzulla also shot twice; pointing, however, the gun in an opposite direction, that so Suliman Kashef might see that he took the friendly greeting as a Turkish joke, and being a bad shot did not dare to aim at him.

On the left side of the river, six small villages, of from twenty to fifty huts, between groves of sunt-wood; at the right side, in the distant horizon, ten villages, some of them long and large, and having treeless, immeasurable, Nile-meadows before them. We see also now on the left shore, behind the trees, habitations as far as which the water appears to reach. Therefore the river, including the marshes under water, which are its limits, must be at least three hours’ broad. The villages denoting best the direction of the old shore, and between which the present stream arbitrarily winds, extend now (about two o’clock) from east to west. We counted in the space of an hour, seventeen large and small villages.

We sail S.S.E. into an arm of the Nile, which continues to become narrower, and where we at last stick fast on the grass, for it contracted itself to the length of our bark. Happily the river here is not so deep but that we could make use of our long poles, whilst the wind helped us, in some measure, to break through this short passage. We did this in order to gain a wider arm in W.S.W. and S.W., wherein the principal stream seems to flow, the water, shortly before, being entirely stagnant. The sailors, who had jumped into the water on this little error in our course, came again on board with leeches sticking to their bodies, the first and only ones I have seen in the land of Sudàn.

A calm set in; but towing on ground of such a nature was not to be thought of. Besides, we had no wood, so we landed in the country of the Shilluks, near large sunt-trees; amongst them one was distinguished by a circumference of fifteen feet. Some houses lay there upon a low island, still surrounded with water, from which the people had fled; we found in one of them a dog, which I protected from the wanton cruelty of the crew, by laying claim to him as my property. This faithful beast was of the shepherd-dog breed, similar to those seen in Turkey. The tokuls have the already-mentioned arched roofs of meadow-grass (called Halfa), and their walls are of reeds and poles, as thick as a man’s arm, and plastered inside and out with a clay-like under layer of the Nile slime. It appears that they try to harden this circular wall before placing on the roof, by a large fire lighted in the interior, as is the custom also in the mountains near Fàzogl, for the walls displayed an extraordinary solidity, considering they were of burnt clay. The door is an oval hole, through which we stooped to enter, and it is also of good service when poking such a fire. We found here several household utensils, none of which I ventured to lay claim to, although they could have no other value for the people than that of momentary use. My three servants no sooner remarked that I was pleased with these things, than, laughing at my scrupulous conscience towards these “Abit,” they stole some of the utensils behind my back, whilst we were sitting and eating together, and carried them to the ships. They said afterwards that the Shilluks must have left these things lying in their houses for us to take them. On this excuse, I remembered what the Bedouins (Beduàn, sing. Bedaùi) did, when Mohammed Ali forbade them to take tribute from the pilgrims travelling to Jerusalem and Mecca; they forced the pilgrims to drop upon the ground as much money as they thought sufficient, and then, pretending to find it after the caravan had passed, took possession of it.

Besides some pretty platted mats, we found here larger and more beautiful clay vessels, in the form of the Burma, than in Sennaar. They were extraordinarily light, and of a black colour, for the slimy clay there, piled up in strata, and kneaded together into balls, as thick as the fist, displayed a dark colour, and must undergo an excessive cleansing before being used for that purpose. As there are no stones here, between which meal can be ground, they make use of a murhàka of clay, a plate three or four fingers thick, blunted at the four corners, having a rough, solid crust, and on which they grind their corn off hand with an artificial stone. In the land of Sudan they use for a murhàka a block of granite, presenting above a flat surface, so that the corn poured on it, by handfuls, rolls off neither to the right nor to the left. A female slave kneeling triturates the corn to a meal, with an oval stone, which she holds in both hands. From the sloping position of the granite block, this meal runs off, and is received in a piece of leather or cloth, laid under this simple mill. I saw a Murhàka of this form in the Museum at Berlin. These last-mentioned stones are found on the Island of Rügen, and have a hole in the middle, owing to the continual rubbing, exactly as we see in Inner Africa. This grinding is a very troublesome process, and the arms of the poor creatures condemned to it acquire an unusual form.

As bread is the mainstay in these lands, in the form of flat cakes, often as fine and thin as wafers, a slave can only make meal for eight persons, if she works from morning to evening; and this is even taken as a standard. Besides that murhàka of clay, which is mixed with slime and roots, although the pure blue clay lies at a small depth, I saw also large broken mortars in the earth, made of the very same materials. In order to repair these, they make a hole in the ground, smearing the inside with clayey thick slime, and light a fire in it, when the mortars become as smooth and dark as if they were made of cast iron. A pestle of hard wood is used to prepare an oil from the simsin and garrua (ricinus).

We also found a large net used for the chase, with bells, made of the fruit of the doum-palm, which is similar to that of the cocoa-tree. They spread this net around the gazelles and antelopes, who, on touching the meshes (made of the inner bark of trees) are frightened at the clattering of the bells, and rush along it to the hostile ambush, where they are killed with javelins. They have also another method of seizing the gazelles and taking them alive. They know the foot-prints of these animals, and what food, in the way of shrubs, is most pleasing to them. Here the huntsmen lay under the dense foliage of brushwood, large traps, which are covered round about to their centre with small lanceolate flat bamboo plants, in such a manner that an opening remains in the middle, where the points concentrate, and this gives way on anything stepping on it, so that the animal is caught by his leg in this prickly plate, and thereby being hindered from escaping, is easily taken.

We found also some well-baked and polished pots, filled with tobacco, the before-named rice of the Shilluks, and other seeds of grasses. The strip of shore whereon we found ourselves was narrow, and a few days previously had been deserted by the water; the lower part of the tokuls not having suffered from it, because, even at high water, there is but little current.

All up the country are grass swamps, with sunt-trees, and between them some huts, which could not have been then inhabited. Boats, with people in them, rowed here and there in the grass, to watch us. On the right shore we remark five villages—the largest might contain 200 houses. The bank of the river here is gently elevated to about 10 feet, as is the case nearly always in the direction of villages a little distant. Some of our soldiers, native Shilluks, who were like slaves among the troops, have been sent out to treat with the people.

The Sultan or Bando of the Shilluks, in the preceding year, on the arrival of the first expedition, fearing a hostile invasion, collected here several thousand men. On that occasion the Turks remained two or three days, in order to come to terms with him; and he presented them with cattle and sheep. We expect, therefore, now, the arrival of the Bando, to whom a present of a red upper garment, red cap (tarbùsh, in Turkish, fessi), and glass beads, has been sent. A heavy boat, or rather a periagua, hollowed out from the trunk of a tree, lies here. Thibaut, in his spiritual humour, wanted, or pretended to want, dry wood, and ordered his servants to hew to pieces this boat, which, perhaps, had been made half a year; but the sunt-wood having become black from being in the water, was as strong as iron, and defied all the efforts of the hatchet. A canoe of this kind is called sürtuk.

7th December.—We have not yet seen the king of this great nation, which may amount to 2,000,000 people, according to Suliman Kashef’s declaration, if it be true, that there are large gohrs fed by the Nile in the interior, whereon the villages lie equally as crowded as here on the main stream, who has not made his appearance. He dwells, however, only two or three hours’ distance from the river; and we hear throughout the night the large war-drums (Nogàra) beating in our neighbourhood—a proof that they mistrust us. I am also persuaded that if Suliman Kashef had once got the dreaded Bando of the Shilluks on board, he would have certainly sailed away with him. I read this in his countenance when he received the intelligence that the Bando would not appear. Willingly as I would have seen this negro king, yet I rejoiced at his not coming for this shameful treachery to be practised upon him. Besides, he had also no cause to welcome the Muslims, these sworn enemies of his people; for, shortly before our departure for the white stream, he had sent three ambassadors to Khartùm, to place himself on a friendly footing with the Turks, and thus to check the marauding expeditions of his Arab neighbours, in which Kurshid Basha and Suliman Kashef had played a principal part. These three Shilluks, who were masters of the Arabic language, were treated in the divan with the usual contempt, as “Abit,” and were handed over to the Sheikh el Beled of Khartùm, to be entertained as common men. This Sheikh, who, receiving no pay, and having to bear the burden of everything, performs the duties of his office more from fear than for the honour, regaled these imperial messengers so magnificently that they came to us Franks, and begged some girsh (piasters) for bread and merissa. To procure them a better reception in the divàn, I represented to Abdalla Effèndi that he would by such treatment draw upon him the anger of the Basha, who was absent in Taka. He really would have presented them on the next day with dresses of honour, but they went away by stealth on the same evening. Now, I heard privately, through my servants, from our messengers to the Shilluks, that the Bando accepted, indeed, the garments, but abused the donors, and said that he would receive and welcome his equals, such as Mohammed Ali, and not his slaves.

I had not seen the baobàb-tree, which, as I learned in conversation, was in the neighbourhood of our landing-place. This gigantic tree, attaining a circumference of 60—nay, even of 120 feet, as one is said to be, near Fàzogl, is called in the land of Sudàn Homera, and its fruit Gungulés. So also the date-tree is called Naghel, and its fruit Tammer, or Bellàgh.

Half an hour before sunrise this morning, we left the prodigious sunt-trees, which had yesterday afforded us such excellent shade. With a fresh north wind we sail S.W. by W., and make four miles. The idea of enticing the king of the Shilluks by a new experiment, was abandoned. On the level surface of the right side of the river we observe ten pastoral villages, appearing to be surrounded with enclosures (Seriba), as a protection against wild beasts. No villages containing tokuls are seen; these are found further up the country, in the Gallas, as our Dinkas tell me. In the land of the Shilluks twenty-one villages shew themselves within an hour and a half. We pass by twelve villages in an hour. On the contrary, we see only four in the land of the Dinkas, on the opposite side. Eight o’clock, W.S.W., five miles. The villages of the Shilluks are in a line, close to one another, and form many pretty groups between the trees, whilst the huts of the Dinkas cover monotonously the flat shore, upon which few or no trees rise. I counted again, up to ten o’clock, fifteen villages, the last of which was distinguished by its picturesque position and large trees. Three baobàbs stand before the hut, which extend in two groups upon a gently curved neck of land, with their small cupola roofs. One of these trees is dead; the second a ruin; the third, as well as a fourth, in the upper part of the village, is in a living-dead state, for it has only a few leaves. This is the already known African giant-tree (Adansonia digitata).

One of the things especially giving a beautiful effect to the landscape, besides the doum-palms, protruding over the mimosas, is the aspiring slender Dhelleb-palm. It has a stem like that of the date-tree, which swells somewhat in the middle, and decreases towards the top. In the inlets, from whence these picturesque necks of land project into the stream, I perceived, to the left side of the shore, villages in all directions, forming a magnificent whole, whilst the right shore was bare, and at this time had only two villages to shew. The river forms its grass-islands, as before, and the villages unfortunately retreat to the old line of the shore from east to south; whilst we, with a brisk north wind, sail W.S.W. six miles. Half an hour beyond, the villages, green, marshy meadow-land, up to the old shore, appearing to denote the forest, to which the Nile approaches in an extensive curve, and forms near us, on the right, a grassy river pasture. I should like to see a map, accurately marking these creeks, subordinate arms, and natural canals, extending into the country, with the proximity and distance of the villages from the shore.

Whilst we approach the forest on the left bank, we observe several crocodiles before us, who are not alarmed at the rustling of our ships through the water. At half-past ten I stand on deck, and count again seventeen new villages of the Shilluks. It is very certain that the bay before alluded to spreads to nearly an hour’s breadth in the left shore. At eleven o’clock I see, on this side, an unlimited thriving grass plain, extending on a level with the water, at the most distant point of which a city is seen, said to be about three hours distant. The verdure shews that the river overflows the whole country; therefore it may be possible for individual families, during the inundation, to remain in the tokuls, lying close to the river, because they are always somewhat elevated, and the water can spread itself over a place of such a nature, but cannot ascend to any height.

On every side rise dhellèb-palms, but most of the villages are without them, and generally without trees at all. It seems inconceivable that none should be planted, for their shade is so extremely grateful in this climate. The natives always take the nearest trees, for the building materials of their tokuls, and never reflect that they may be sorry for this when the sun ascends the horizon. In their most pressing necessities they only provide for the moment, and therefore may not be inclined to plant for the future, or for their children. Immediately after eleven o’clock we sail close to the right shore, where two villages lie on yellow bare elevated downs; they are distinguished from those of the Shilluks by pointed roofs and a slovenly construction. Near the upper miserable Dinka city, where the lower walls of the tokuls are not even plastered, nine dhellèb-palms are found; eight stand together, and afford a beautiful sight. Four of these bear fruit; the others are male trees. The horizon, towards the left shore is covered with sixteen villages, and again we have a beautiful group of dhellèb-palms, mimosas, and baobàbs. The dhellèb, as far as it was known to the Ethiopians of Meroë, might have given the form to the pillars swelling in the middle; otherwise such columns appear to be contrary to nature; but we also find the same form in the Ambak.

About twelve o’clock we see, on the right side of the river, six ostriches walking about. This sight Suliman Kashef cannot withstand. We go ashore therefore, but the ostriches do not seem to trust us strangers: they stride up the country, and run away, directly the first shot sounds in their ears. The shore here gently rises from ten to twelve feet; and the hill, which might once have counted many huts where now only a few cabins are seen, rose some six feet higher. Behind it, the whole surface of the earth falls away, and the Nile is seen at a distance flowing near other Dinka villages, and ending in a narrow channel, deep in the land. A number of potsherds lay around; and those small heights I had taken at a distance for ant-hills, as these had often come before me in the Taka country, were hills of ashes. The Dinkas, who here chiefly lead a pastoral life, make on these hills their fires, and raking away the warm ashes, and collecting them in a circular form, lie down and sleep upon them, on account of the damp nights, for they go naked like the Shilluks. The cattle also are tied to stakes, in a circle around these hills of ashes. Now I could explain the livid colour of the people; for no religious custom enjoins the strewing of ashes on the body; and washing is not one of their practices, as is only too plainly remarked by the slaves coming from thence.

Opposite to us lay seven villages of the Shilluks. We had seen, at an earlier period, several of those Sürtuks (boats) erected within the shade of trees, in the country of the Shilluks; but here they are of an unusual length, and seem to be made of the dhellàb-palm. In the afternoon, level land abounded on all sides. We again approached the left shore. The stream flows in a picturesque semicircle before a beautiful pasture-ground, upon which are found doum and dhellèb-palms, mimosas, and other trees, forming a strong contrast to the blue sky. Between them eight villages are scattered, at which several people have collected under the protecting shade of two baobàbs, and gaze at us with astonishment. The Haba, or forest, either loses itself here, or extends beyond the horizon. Opposite, only one village, containing tokuls, with more pointed roofs, lies upon the arid ground; and a small river there seems to flow into the great stream, if it be not itself an arm of the river, having a considerable fall. We sail S.W., and make three miles whilst the river has the rapidity of one mile. On the right shore merely a doum-palm rises here and there from the immeasurable plain, whose low grey circumference, untouched by water, can scarcely be seen on account of the distance. At three o’clock five villages, in a low country, rich in palms; on the right shore, in front, only one village is to be seen, and the horizon before us is closed by nine villages. About four o’clock S.S.W.; on the left all flat to the forest, which again approaches nearer in an extensive sweep, but consists only of bad trees and underwood.

It is five o’clock, and we sail S.W. to the mouth of a river coming from Habesh, and on that account called Bahr el Makada. We halt, and Selim Capitan and our engineers ascertain the latitude, in order to determine the mouth of this river, which may be here five hundred paces broad. It has six fathoms in depth, and two miles in rapidity; whilst the Nile has only three fathoms in depth, and half a mile in velocity. It is said to come from the east, but that remains to be proved on our return voyage. The Arabic name of the river is Sobàt, though we hear it called also Sibàt and Subàt. Downs rise before and on it, from whence we perceive, at the setting sun, eleven villages between doum-palms, on the right shore of the White Stream, which, dividing here far and wide into several arms, raises a doubt which we shall choose to-morrow. The river Sobàt forms the limits of the country of the Dinkas.

The nation of the Nuèhrs begins on its left shore, and dwells up the Nile from hence—the Shilluks still continuing on the left shore. We learn from our negroes that the Sobàt is called Tah by the Dinkas, who give the name of Kir to the white stream, and Tilfi by the Shilluks dwelling opposite. It disembogues itself under 9° 11′ north latitude. When I returned to the vessel from my excursion, at sunset, I had an attack of fever, which is very inconvenient for me here on the white river. We chose our anchorage far from the shore, in a kind of lake; therefore the fires or torches of the Shilluks in the grass, flickering here and there, might keep the crew awake, but could not frighten them. The continual drumming must indeed have destroyed the illusion of the Shilluks, that they could swim to us, or surprise us with their canoes whilst we were sleeping.

CHAPTER VI.

ANT-HILLS. — TRIBE OF THE NUÈHRS. — THE JENGÄHS. — KAWASS OR SERJEANT MÁRIAN FROM MOUNT HABILA. — DESCRIPTION OF HIM. — TOKULS OF THE JENGÄHS. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GAZELLES. — THE RIVER N’JIN-N’JIN. — WORSHIP OF TREES. — THE GALLAS OR STEPPES. — BLACK COLOUR OF THE RIVER. — NEW SPECIES OF PLANTS. — THE BITTERN AND IBIS. —“BAUDA” OR GNATS: THEIR DREADFUL STING. — LIEUT. ABD-ELLIÀB’S CRUELTY TO HIS FEMALE SLAVE. — THE TOKRURI OR PILGRIM. — CURIOUS SUPERSTITION WITH REGARD TO THESE MEN. — MOUNTAIN CHAIN OF NUBA. — PAPYRUS ANTIQUUS OR GIGANTIC RUSH. — GAZELLE RIVER. — DEAD FISH. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SNAKES. — ARABIC SONGS AND FESTIVITY ON BOARD. — JENGÄHS SUPPOSED TO BE WORSHIPPERS OF THE MOON: THEIR MANNER OF TATOOING. — STRIFE BETWEEN THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. — ANTIPATHY OF THE FRENCH ENGINEERS TO EACH OTHER. — LOCUSTS. — TORMENT OF THE GNATS: THEIR VARIOUS SPECIES. — BARBARITY OF THE TURKS ON THE FORMER EXPEDITION. — MARVELLOUS STORIES OF THE ARABS. — HATRED OF THE NATIVES TO THE TURKS.

8th December.—At day-break we proceed towards S.W. with north-west wind; three miles. At nine o’clock N.N.W. We see from the deck sixteen villages on the left shore; on the right, close to the border of the river, a number of little hills, overgrown with sward, and therefore, perhaps, formerly strongholds of ants, like those characteristic hills of ashes, which would seem to denote an ancient pastoral station. Further inland are distinguished, on the ancient old shore, up to which all is bare, two large villages. The stately palms also on the right, appear now to lose themselves in the extensive plain. We go N.W., and make five miles.

About ten o’clock, I surveyed on the right twenty-one villages, in the country of the Shilluks, on a green plain, in which, with the exception of some palms, there were no trees, and which took up the whole horizon from W. to N.E. Ou the left hand, the neighbouring right shore was nearly bare. Whilst we sail to N.W., two mountains, the one in front appearing to be covered with wood, rise in the S.W., at a distance of three or four hours.

At half-past eleven o’clock, we go on shore to the left, in the country of the Nuèhrs, to take in wood for ten or fourteen days, as it is said that there are merely reeds further up. No sunt presented itself here, but stunted geïlids and miserable ebony, which, however, cannot be cut, owing to its hardness. On the left shore here, are the boundaries of the Shilluks, and the Jengähs follow. An extensive green meadow, with neither trees nor houses on it, separates these two tribes.

The Kawass (serjeant) on board our vessel, gives me much welcome information on the condition of this people. He is called Màrian, from Mount Habila, and is the son of the murdered Mak, or King of all the mountains of Nuba, a hundred and eighty in number, according to him, and subject formerly to his father, who was slain by the Turks. He was made a slave, and was obliged, as being such, to change his name from Uadassa to that of Marian. He is of middle height, has a regular black countenance, with vertical streaks on the temples; on the forehead he is tattooed, and has ten holes at the edge of each ear, from which the Turks have taken his gold rings. He is a sensible and modest man; has been in the service thirteen years, and understands it, but has not been able to gain promotion, because he is entirely forgotten, and has no one to make the necessary intercession for him: his young son, however, was preserved at the time, and Marian’s uncle, who pays tribute to the Turks, has appointed him his deputy. Marian perceives that his tribe cannot do anything, even with the greatest bravery, against fire-arms, and therefore does not wish to acquire his freedom again by deserting. Besides this man, there are two Dinkas, a Shillkaui, and a Jengäh, on board, though hitherto I have found it impossible to learn the slightest thing from them about the manners and customs of their country, because they consider that such information would be treachery to their countrymen.

At one o’clock, we got again under weigh towards S.W., and kept more to the left side of the river. About half-past two o’clock, we saw the first tokuls of the Jengähs, which are far more slovenly built than those of the Shilluks; they stand a quarter of an hour distant from the shore, near a single dhellèb palm: we landed near them. A sürtuk lay there, forty feet long, with vertical sides and pointed ends; the stern of the boat, although made of hard timber, is closed diagonally by a piece of wood: it appeared to be hewn out of the trunk of a dhellèb palm. A beautiful kind of mimosa, with thick foliage and yellowish red flowers, like floss silk, struck me especially. The blue clay soil was full of foot-prints of river buffaloes, several of whom shewed themselves yesterday evening, and blew their sackbuts stoutly.

We saw also this morning, for the first time, two giraffes, called, however, Saràff, and said to be very abundant here. As there was nothing to be gained, and no people shewed themselves, we left the place. Soon afterwards we saw a village on the same side, with some dhellèb and doum palms; near it a river, running from N.W. by W., flows into the white stream, which, however, was taken for an arm of the latter. I subsequently ascertained from our Jengäh Bachit, that the name of this little river is N’jin-N’jin, and goes far in his country towards W. He called the white stream Kih, and afterwards Kidi. The sounds in their language are really inarticulate, and they can hardly pronounce an Arabic word so sharply as our characters require.

Up to five o’clock, we had on the right shore, before which a green margin lies in the water, thirty-four villages of the Nuèhrs, each containing from twenty to a hundred and more tokuls. Only a few of these enjoy the shade of trees. I believe it to be certain, that where Nature has once planted propitiously a shoot, and this shoot, by its growth, has triumphed over the voracity of beasts, and the wantonness of man, or stood beyond the reach of their necessities, the tree may easily become an object of veneration to people living in a state of nature, owing to the shade it affords to meetings in the open air.

We sail continually N.W., with slight deviations to one side or the other. We advance three miles, an arm of the Nile scarcely 200 paces broad. There is said to be a larger arm on the left side, as appears also to be the case on the right, where we saw a man take his little canoe on his head, and carry it to the houses near at hand. The right shore has here no habitations of the Nuèhrs; beyond the river’s edge, and also behind the houses the Galla, or Steppe, is visible. The before-named mountains on the right shore, the larger one of which is almost covered with masses of rock, appearing at a distance like large trees, and behind which three smaller curly heads follow, have vanished towards the south. We sail N.W. by W., and another considerable mountain appears on the flat grassy scene towards N.W., whilst we anchor, at sunset, in the middle of the river. Our Bakhi (who was taken prisoner from Bakhara, and was previously called Denn) did not know the name of the hilly ridge lying in the mountainous country of the Jengähs. The N’jin-N’jin, however, which he also calls Kih, meaning the same as river, or water, is said to flow past the foot of high mountains. I was told that when the reed-grass, standing from three to six feet above the water, and becoming very dry from the sun, soon after the inundation has run off, although the roots may be still under water, is ignited, a young and tender grass springs forth, of which cattle are said to be very fond.

The white stream here, and indeed since yesterday, might be really called the Black River. The latter colour arises partly from the Thin, that heavy clayey morass with which the bed of the river is covered, instead of floating sandy particles; and partly also from the dark kind of moss, that we see among the reeds, continuing to the bottom of the river, for the current (amounting here to less than half a mile), is not able to keep its course clear. This long marshy lake, of some two hours in breadth, discloses a new world of plants, in various high grasses and bog-shrubs. The swarms of little birds seem to find their nourishment in the ripening seeds. I remarked two bitterns, having the greatest resemblance to our water-hens—silver-grey, with a white wing: and also the black Ibis. The small detached islands, linked together by marsh-plants, floated only very slowly, although the contrary wind had quite subsided.

9th December.—The latitude, yesterday evening, was 9° 4′. The river, or Kih N’jin-N’jin, would therefore disembogue itself between 9° 12′ and 9° 4′. Our Gohr, as it pleased them to call the arm of the Nile, which we navigated yesterday evening, and which was scarcely fifty paces broad, has increased this morning to 100 and 150 paces in breadth, ever according to the caprice of the reed-grass, predominant here, and impudently intruding itself, for the stream has scarcely anything to do with it. A very strong dew hung on the grass in large pearly drops, very refreshing to the eye at sunrise. The thermometer shewed 20° heat. The distant shore of this marshy lake was denoted by isolated trees and a few small villages. We were obliged to take again to the oars, as on yesterday evening, and went N.W.

A dreadful pest has made its appearance in these lakes. “Baùda” is the horrible name, and means nothing else than gnats, which, when a calm sets in, make the people, and especially the half-naked sailors, nearly mad. On the right side of the Nile we perceive no human habitations. The nation of the Nuèhrs is said, thus far, to dwell more towards the interior, on the left shore of the Sobàt, and may therefore keep at a distance these frightful swarms of gnats, that torment man and beast. On the left bank we saw, at an hour’s distance beyond the reed-lake, eleven small villages; yet the nation of the Jenjähs is said to be very numerous, and to inhabit the shores of their N’jin-N’jin in populous villages, situated on inaccessible mountains. At nine o’clock we sailed, with a tolerably favourable east wind, W. by S., and made three miles, whilst the rapidity of the current might have been about a mile. Clouds had collected in the sky, and we feared rain, to which the Egyptian inhabitants of the Nile are so sensitive.

At eleven o’clock the S.E. wind set in, when we went due N.W. The river, which has, up to this place, a breadth of from four to five hundred paces, widens again to about an hour’s breadth. A marshy swamp, however, soon again intrudes: its pointed angle springs from the right shore, so that the latter can be only an hour distant, even to the trees over the green grass-land, whilst the left shore, on the contrary, has retreated this hour and a half into an immeasurable bay, the limits of which cannot be reached by the eye, even from the mast. That we should not remark any villages in the vicinity of this marshy land, is naturally to be expected.

The right shore becomes wooded, and we see, everywhere, rising pillars of smoke, said to be signals, as the natives can discern our vessels from thence. At 1 o’clock, the right shore, on the foreground of which groups of ambaks rise, is about two hours’ distant. We noticed numerous morass birds collected on this wide plain. This marsh-tree, towards the left side of the shore, appears to delude us in the same manner, since it assumes the form of groups of trees, belonging, at other times, to firm ground. A new morass-plant, rising to a great height, with large corollas, similar to a tuft of reeds, elevates, here and there, its long bare stalks. Its external appearance indicates it, even from afar, to be the papyrus antiquorum.

We go W.S.W., and a little before two o’clock W.N.W. One of the vessels chose another road to the left of us, and is separated an hour’s distance from us by the grass. About two o’clock, every tree (being the sign of firm ground) on the left also vanishes, and we see, therefore, nothing but the sky and grass sea, surrounded or intersected by the arms of the Nile. We sail N.W. with two miles and a half rapidity of current, and probably in the larger central arm, although it is scarcely four hundred paces broad. We conjecture that the main stream is to the right side of the shore, from whence the vessel before mentioned has returned, fearing to lose us altogether from the horizon.

My servants had given some durra to the female slave of our first lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, to prepare merissa from, of which drink the rest of the crew partook. The Paradise-Stormer,—formerly, according to his own confession, a staunch toper,—had no sooner learned that his slave had set to make this liquor, than he ordered this unfortunate creature, who was kneeling just before the murhàka, and grinding the corn, so that the perspiration was pouring off in streams from the bared upper part of her body, to remain quiet where she was: whereupon she crossed her arms over her naked breast. At the very same moment he drew forth the kurbàsh from under his angereb, and swinging it backwards and forwards, brought it down with fearful violence upon her back. As he did not attend to my call from the cabin, but struck so furiously that her skin broke and blood poured down in streams, I jumped out and pulled him backwards by his angereb, so that his legs flew in the air. However, he sprang up again immediately, bounded to the side of the ship, and shouted, with a menacing countenance, “Effendi,” instead of calling me “Kawagi,” which is the usual title for a Frank and a merchant. I had scarcely, however, returned to my cabin, ere he seized his slave again to throw her overboard. I immediately caught up my double-barrel, stood in the doorway, and called out “Ana oedrup” (I’ll fire), whereupon he let her go, and said, with a pallid countenance, that she was his property and he could do as he liked with her. He at last suppressed his anger, when I explained to him that his own head as well as all his Harim, belonged to the Basha. Subsequently he ventured to complain of me to the commandant, who, knowing his malignant and hypocritical character, removed him to the little sandal, to the great delight of the whole crew. On our return to Khartùm he was cringing enough to want to kiss my hand and ask my pardon, (although he had become a captain in the Basha’s guard), because the Basha distinguished me.

A few days previously I had had an opportunity of gaining the affection and confidence of our black soldiers. One of them, a Tokruri or pilgrim from Darfùr had, in a quarrel with an Arab, drawn his knife and wounded him. He jumped overboard to drown himself, for he could not swim, and was just on the point of perishing when he drifted to our ship, where Feïzulla-Capitan no sooner perceived him than he sprang down from behind the helm and saved him, with the assistance of others. He was taken up and appeared nearly dead, and on intelligence being conveyed from the other vessels that he had murdered a Muslim, some of our people wished to throw him again immediately into the water. This, however, being prevented, they thought of making an attempt to resuscitate him, by standing him up on his head. I had him laid horizontally upon his side, and began to rub him with an old ferda belonging to one of my servants. For the moment no one would assist me, as he was an “Abit,” until I threatened the Captain that he should be made to pay the Basha for the loss of his soldiers. After repeated rubbing, the tokruri gave some signs of life, and they raised him half up, whilst his head still hung down. One of the sailors, who as a faki, pretended to be a sort of awakener of the dead, seized him from behind, under the arms, lifted him up a little, and let him, when he was brought into a sitting posture, fall thrice violently on his hinder end, whilst he repeated passages from the Koràn, and shouted in his ears, whereupon the tokruri answered with a similar prayer. Superstition goes so far here, that it is asserted such a pilgrim may be completely and thoroughly drowned, and yet retain the power of floating to any shore he pleases, and stand there alive again.

On the right we noticed N.W. by W., at a great distance, a considerable chain of mountains, to all appearance, over the invisible left shore. According to Selim-Capitan’s declaration this must be called Tickem. The crew even think that it is either the Tekeli or the Tira, which, however, is impossible, as we have long ago left them behind in the North. Both mountains are well known by our Kawass Màrian, and belong indeed to the mountain chain of Nuba. This mountain, however, is called, according to Màrian, Morre, and its high rocks are inhabited by a valiant, pagan, Negro race; they lie beyond the Nuba chain, and far isolated from it. Màrian had more than once travelled through the country, and had also been into these parts, when Sultan Fadl fled to them from Kordofàn, on the invasion of the Turks. Half-past three o’clock, W.N.W. Still in the grass-sea. We halted at sun-set, where the arm of the Nile goes from E. to W. The far distant and scarcely visible mountain lies now to the N. of us, and appears to be nearly twenty hours’ distant; this agrees with Màrian’s statement. Neither land nor tree to be seen, even from the mast; but back on the right shore, large clouds of smoke, which we have seen in many places throughout the day, and which I rather take to be signal-fires, than kindled for the purpose of driving away the gnats that first make their appearance towards evening.

10th December.—A dead calm throughout the night. Gnats!!! No use creeping under the bedclothes, where the heat threatens to stifle me, compelled as I am, by their penetrating sting, to keep my clothes on. Leave only a hole to breathe at; in they rush, on the lips, into the nostrils and ears, and should one yawn, they squeeze themselves into the throat, and tickle us to coughing, causing us to suffer real torture, for with every respiration again a fresh swarm enters. They find their way to the most sensitive parts, creeping in like ants at every aperture. My bed was covered in the morning with thousands of these little tormenting spirits—compared with which the Egyptian plague is nothing—which I had crushed to death with the weight of my body, by continually rolling about.

As I had forgotten to take with me from Khartùm a mosquito-net, or gauze bed-curtains, for which I had no use there on account of the heat, to keep off these tormentors, there was nothing for it but submission. Neither had I thought of leather gloves, unbearable in the hot climate here, but which would have been at this moment of essential advantage, for I was not only obliged to have a servant before me at supper-time, waving a large fan, made of ostrich-feathers, under my nose, so that it was necessary to watch the time for seizing and conveying the food to my mouth, but I could not even smoke my pipe in peace, though keeping my hands wrapt in my woollen Burnus, for the gnats not only stung through it, but even crept up under it from the ground. The blacks and coloured men were equally ill-treated by these hungry and impudent guests; and all night long might be heard the word “Bauda,” furious abuse against them, and flappings of ferdas to keep them off; but in spite of this, the face and body were as if bestudded, and swollen up with boils. The Baudas resemble our long-legged gnats, although their proboscis, with which they bore through a triple fold of strong linen, appears to me longer. Their head is blue; the back dun-coloured, and their legs are covered with white specks, like small pearls. Another kind has shorter and stronger legs, a thicker body, of a brown-colour, with a red head and iris-hued posteriors.

The crew are quite wearied from sleepless nights, and rowing must be given up if the calm continues, although we find ourselves in a canal whose water propels us so little that we do not cast anchor. Here I got a specimen of the gigantic rush (papyrus antiquus) before mentioned. The stalk is prismatic, somewhat rounded, however, on one side; it runs in a conical form, to the length of from ten to twelve feet, and bears on the top a corolla like a tuft of reeds, the ray-formed edges of which branch out, and are more than a span long: the greatest thickness of the stem is one inch and a half, and never less than half an inch thick, and under the green rind there is a strong pith. Subsequently, however, I saw this papyrus, which our Arabs were not acquainted with, from fifteen to twenty feet long, and two inches thick, so that the longer reeds on the top shot forth from their little clusters of flowers and seeds, five to six new spikes, the length of a span. The Ambak was known to the old Egyptians; there is no doubt, therefore, that it, as well as this rush, was split, glued to one another, and used for a writing material, because it afforded the advantage of a greater extent of surface.

We row again a little, and wait till ten o’clock for Hüssein Aga’s clumsy kaiàss, although a slight N.E. wind has set in. We then sail N.W. and make two miles and a half. At three o’clock we go W.S.W. slowly into the great lake, wherein the Gazelle river (Bahr el Gasáll) disembogues itself. This river is said to flow here from the country of the Magrabis (Berbers), as some soldiers affirmed, who had served under Mustapha Bey, and pretended to have pressed forward to its shores. Touching this lake and the river, the name of which we could not learn, for its borders are entirely covered with reeds, and therefore cannot be inhabited, the declaration of the soldiers was only a confirmation of what Mustapha Bey told me in Khartùm. On account of the dead calm, we halt on the right reedy shore of the stream, in the lake itself, beyond which we do not yet distinguish land, any more than to the left. Over a yellowish tract, there, which the water may have left, like an island, green grass and the ascending smoke, announcing human life, shew themselves again and denote a firm shore. The lake may be from eighteen to twenty sea miles square.

In the evening, the smoke appeared like long-extended peculiar fireworks, rising equally high; and there was no doubt that this was ignited high grass, a sight which, from Sennaar to this place, was no longer new to me. The Gazelle river glimmered far beyond, the grasses impeding its mouth; and I distinguished plainly, from the elevated poop, that it emptied itself into two arms, S.W. by W. and S.W., forming a delta, obtuse at the top. My servant, who was at the mast-head, confirmed me in the opinion of this more extensive direction, by stretching out his arm to that region.

Dead fish, of the species called garmùt (Heterobranchus, bidorsalis Geoff.), real monsters in size, had already previously floated towards us; they were said to have been harpooned by the inhabitants of the shore, as very probably was the case. Our angling, however, procured us few or no fish. It was not so much the north wind, as the abundance of food brought by the inundation, that kept them away from our bait.

We had already seen and caught several snakes, and twice I saw how this reptile let itself be carried by the stream, coiling itself up and holding its head above water. Here a small blackish snake appeared, before which we threw a piece of wood, when it became irritated, and drove repeatedly against our vessel, although we thrust at it with poles. The first-named were mostly those I had already seen and made a collection of in Taka—the Naja Haje (Coluber Haje Hasslq.) Vipera Cerastes Daud, Python Subae, &c. The large snakes were generally called Assala, and the small ones sometimes Hannesh and Debib, and sometimes Dabàhn. It is only the viper that has the name of Haigi among these people as its peculiar one. We had seen here and there in these marshes serpents which might be described as equal in bulk to a moderate tree. I had in Taka heard a similar comparison from Sheikhs whose word could be relied on; and also that the snakes were of such a size that they could easily carry a man from his angereb, and swallow him very comfortably.

I remarked in the reeds many ant-hills, such as are seen in Taka; they were eight to ten feet high, but whether inhabited or not I cannot say. If they were so, their height might be explained by the supposition that the insects sought to protect themselves in their upper cells from the high water; that is, if the Nile did not formerly make another bend here, so as not to overflow this marsh-land. Besides, I had already had the opportunity of observing these termites and their ingenious strongholds, whereby I convinced myself that they are not very much afraid of the water; but, on the contrary, they descend deep into the earth, to fetch up damp soil, in order to give a smooth surface to the apparent labyrinth of their cells, which, in the lower part of their habitations, are as thick as one’s fist. These little whitish insects are also themselves full of water, and burst as soon as they are touched. These ants are called arda. They will perforate in one night, from the bottom to the top, a trunk filled with clothes, if it is not placed upon a stone; for they dread daylight, and are afraid to climb up stones on the earth.

Owing to the ants, we, towards evening, left the shore, and anchored in the middle of the lake, which has a greater breadth in the direction of the west, and where only a few ants shewed themselves, and these, from the weight of the blood they had sucked in, were not able to fly away from the reeds, and had stuck to the ship. We remarked also a great number of glowworms among the reeds. Suliman Kashef sent me the sandal, and I repaired with Feïzulla Capitan to him.

Every one was overjoyed at escaping from the gnats. The sailors swam here and there, but desisted from this vocation when crocodiles appeared in our neighbourhood. There was mad shouting and singing, and the Hippopotami appeared indignant at this noise, for they bellowed in opposition on all sides. Suliman Kashef ordered his men to squat down before the cabin, and sing. Several Arabic songs were chanted, such as that of the Bedoaui (Bedouins), in which there is really a pretty refrain. “La Volèt, el Juhm” (O youth the day). The variation of “l’Eli, l’eli” (the night, the night), being in trioles, is adapted to very soft modulations, and is introduced as a melody, awakening the feelings in the same manner as the modern Greek “Mana” (composed from the Turkish “Amàhn,” and denoting a cry for mercy). It is not, however, executed in the horrible and purely barbarian manner of the so-called Hellenes. They had also satirical songs on Melek Kambal and Ahmed Basha: these, however, they were not allowed to sing to the end. Suliman Kashef related anecdotes of his former journeys, and did not seem to think it impossible to overthrow and supplant his friend and countryman Ahmed Basha. He had an old sailor as a jester or Dèli on board, who was obliged to make jokes before the whole crew, and therefore was called Abu Hashis, which means a man who drinks a decoction made of hemp, having the same effect as opium, and who plays the buffoon.

Suliman Kashef was very much excited by the liquor. He fired in the air, or at the hippopotami emerging from the water, and had his gun continually loaded. It was really wonderful to see these animals, bellowing on all sides, as if challenging him to the combat. Their time of coition appeared, however, to have set in, and these fearful trombone sounds might have pertained to the period of rutting. Towards evening we had also seen numerous fish bustling about amid the reeds, and heard them the whole night springing up, without thinking of catching them, because they are considered unclean in the coition-season by our Turks and Arabs. A number of green islands, worn off by the floating water colossus from the marshy shore, being driven by the wind, floated by us, and made us believe that we were sailing. There was such a shouting of bad witticisms from the jesters privileged here, that we could not help laughing. If our Abu Hashis failed in his tropes, he was unanimously called “Abu! abu!” and if the chief Abu Hashis of Suliman Kashef was not quiet at this, and went on to make fun of the others with his stentorian voice, he was asked what his Harim consisted of, at which question he always became quiet, not wishing to joke on such a subject.

This vast water-basin had, some two hundred paces from the Nile, which passes through on the east side, only one fathom and a half in depth, the latter having three fathoms and a half, and a current of a quarter of a mile. The latitude here was given by Selim Capitan as 9° 16′, and 28° 55′ east longitude from Paris. I hear that, in the preceding year, they sailed round the mouth of the Gazelle river for two days, being unable to enter it by reason of the reeds. I did not grudge the trouble of asking a question twenty times; and at last, I learned from our Iengäh that the head of the river is called in his country Iak, although he refused to give me the name of his abode or of the capital or city.

I could extract equally as little information from him about his religion; yet these people must be, as Professor Ehrenberg, who had a Iengäh as a servant, asserts, worshippers of the moon. The moon is generally more or less an object of veneration in these hot countries. The distinctive characteristics of the Iengäh nation consist of a cross incision immediately over the eyebrows as far as the temples, and over this, several vertical cuts close to one another, an inch in length. The manner of tattooing amongst them consists in slitting or cutting open the skin, the scars on which protrude like basso-relievos. The dignity of Sultan and Sheikh is hereditary. It almost seems to me that Marian is also unwilling to give information concerning his Nuba, since I shewed him a map of his country. The offer I made him to solicit the Basha to promote him to the rank of an officer, and to send him back into his own country to enlist troops, seemed very agreeable to him, and easy to be accomplished, for his countrymen must and would willingly follow him, because the Basha pays well. The Basha subsequently promoted him to the rank of a lieutenant, but thought it somewhat hazardous to raise a regiment of Nuba negroes, since he must have given the supreme command to this man as their native Mak or King; although he values the slaves from this country more than all the others, and keeps many of them on his estate, whom he rewards with pretty wives.

12th December.—Before sunrise this morning we left the Lake, sailed with a faint N.E. wind a short tract S.W., and then W. by S., with two miles rapidity of current, into a canal, surrounded by a border of reeds on both sides, and 100 to 150 paces broad. High reeds, but more low ones, water couch-grass and narrow grass, the pale-green aquatic plant, the lilac convolvulus, moss, water-thistles, plants like nettles and hemp, formed on the right and left a soft green mixture, upon which groups of the yellow-flowing ambak-tree rose, and which itself was partly hung round with luxuriant creepers, covered with large cup-like flowers, of a deep yellow colour. To my sorrow, I see that my collection of plants, in spite of my great care, has commenced the fermenting process, leaving but little hope of preserving any of them, for these children of the marshes speedily rot. I am especially grieved about the white lotus-flowers, which I have not seen for some days; as well as for the Nymphæa cærulea, which do not appear at all.

From W. by S.; soon again to S.W. by S.; and at nine o’clock, S.W.—four miles. The ambaks rising from the immeasurable expanse of reed-grass, at times deluded us into the belief that they were trees of distant shores. High reeds are no longer to be seen, and even that reed-grass appears to be lost here, but, instead of it, luxuriant long grass, two to three feet high, sprouts out of the water.

Eleven o’clock, S.W. by S.—two miles. Towards S. we observe isolated trees, and the tops of dwellings, in the country of the Nuèhrs, where soon afterwards smoke ascends,—a sign that they see our masts, although they are an hour distant from us. The channel is again about 300 paces broad. There is everlasting strife between the Egyptian sailors and the few Egyptian soldiers, who shew, even here, the quarrelsome nature of the Fellàhs. Feïzulla Capitan is very indifferent to it; a thorough slave to his crew and to his passions; yet, at times he makes them tow, or orders the braggarts to be gagged by a piece of wood fastened behind the ear, which they are obliged to take in their mouths; but this is done, however, more to please himself, and to make the crew laugh, than to acquire respect by good sound reprimands. Where a laudable zeal is displayed on no side, this apathy appears to me, generally, to promise us very little honour in the conclusion of our expedition; even Arnaud testifies but little pleasure at the prospect of a further advance. Selim Capitan is afraid of the natives, and Suliman Kashef is the only one from whose ambition and courage I have anything to expect. The Frenchmen continue to have their windows covered, that, forsooth, they may not see the melancholy, monotonous country. Mutually cool towards one another, they are continually opening collections of anecdotes, and comic publications, to fill up the gaps in their insipid conversation. Arnaud seems to look upon Selim Capitan as the abler man, for he consults him, and watches the chronometer, whilst the latter handles the instruments.

At noon, W. by W., and at one o’clock S. Towards the east, we see the vessels that have remained behind, in the extensive sea of reeds, and we likewise, for the first time, rightly remark the winding of this passage. The gigantic rush shews itself here and there like little pine-forests; also isolated parcels of high reeds over the old dry low reeds, which spring forth again fresh from their stalks. The spikes of the grass are here cropped, and before us there rises an enormous swarm of locusts, who move up the river. These may be, for the moment, welcome food to the fish mostly seen here, which are wide-mouthed, but otherwise similar to an eel (Clarias anguillaris). All those that we caught, had locusts in their belly. The wind, as is usual about noon, has almost entirely slackened; the crew row, keeping time with songs to their oars, S.W. by S. About three o’clock, we halt at the right shore of the reeds, which are dry here, although on the right they are of a soft green. Now I see that we must not be deceived by the yellow tracts, with the belief that firm ground exists there, for the grasses here, standing in the water, are also dry.

Although the thermometer, as yesterday, is only 28°, yet it feels, when the dead calm sets in, as close and confined as in Khartùm, with a heat of 42°, to which, perhaps, the exhalations from the marshes may mostly contribute. An unusual perspiration has not only made its appearance upon me, but even the crew, especially the rowers, are dripping, as if with water. About nine o’clock in the evening, we cast anchor in a depth of two fathoms, and half a mile current.

I had resigned to Feïzulla Capitan the pleasure of preparing the bill of fare for us, and therefore there was so much cooked (“Alla Kerim”), that not only he, but half the crew, were feasted. The Kurd had previously withdrawn himself from this community; and I found it advisable, as I had been robbed by his people into the bargain, to be economical with my provisions, in order that they might last to the end of the voyage, giving my servant, Sate Mahommed, from Mahass, the most necessary directions for cooking.

13th December.—If a regular visitation of gnats took place three days ago, it was nothing to be compared with that of yesterday evening. Even this morning, when the sun had risen, we had no rest; it was impossible for me to write even if my head had been less confused, after such a painful night. This was the smaller species, not having legs, with spots like pearls. Neither fans, nor entire masses of tobacco, which we kindled on an iron platter, keep these little beasts away from us.

Millions of glowworms fluttered around in the rushes and ambaks, accompanied by the shrill cry of locusts. The croaking, however, of frogs was wanting, for they do not appear to be forthcoming here. A little before sunrise, we again rowed towards the west; and the whole crew, though exhausted, really used their utmost endeavours to get away from this region. We advanced, however, but slowly, for the current had become a little stronger. About eight o’clock, to our great delight, a strong N.E. wind set in, and we made four miles. The horizon was covered, towards the right shore, from E. to S., with tokuls, and there was a considerable village at the point where the river approaches from E. and E.S.E. Unfortunately we are obliged to wait for the vessels left behind; and this is so much the more to be regretted because the strong north winds seem altogether to be lost here. We are only separated from this shore by a few reeds, but prevented from landing, as the water reaches far above a man’s head. Low bushes of mimosas stand there upon dry ground, scarcely elevated above the surface of the Nile, but rising, however somewhat towards a village in which a tokul is distinguished, from its unusual size. The little sandal has, nevertheless, discovered a narrow road, made by the natives, or by the large aquatic animals to the land, and brings off with it twenty-five sheep, which it has procured on shore.

The inhabitants of this village were harshly used by the former expedition. At that time they brought four oxen as a present, and gave a sheep to Thibaut, who, because it was somewhat swollen, took it to be poisoned. This circumstance was sufficient cause to incite the crew to go ashore, to surround the village on all sides, and to shoot down, in a shameful manner, the Sheikh, and several others who had fled with him into the neighbouring marshes. Thibaut made a very pretty booty here, consisting, amongst other things, of a square quiver, somewhat curved at the top, altogether of antique form; besides large felt caps, very similar to the ancient Egyptian caps of the priests, high and obtuse in front; bread collars for bulls, set round with iron spindle-shaped ornaments, which were hung up in the great tokul, and may have been hung therefore round their Apis, as signs of adoration or affection, only on certain festive occasions.

In the neighbourhood, we saw far and wide, towards the left side of the village, the smoke assume a magnificent form. We see from the deck flames moving towards us, the wind being favourable, in long battle array, and steam and black ashes spread near us, apparently arising from the dry grass. Thousands of birds driven thence swarm in the air around the vessels. A number of turtle-doves remain quite innocently in our neighbourhood, perched on the ambak-bushes. It may indeed be called fortunate that the wood there was low and generally thin, for, had it been otherwise, this conflagration, probably caused by the frightened inhabitants, might easily have set the sails on fire. The fatalism, however, of the Turks causes us to squat in the very same place till about sunset, in order to fill our ships again with gnats, although we see the vessels, left behind, coming at a distance. The river winds here from E.S.E. to S.S.W. At last they apply themselves to their oars, but we gain very little, for the current amounts to more than one mile, and the wind, which had set in over night, holds scarcely on for a moment.

14th December.—After a restless night, we did not put ourselves in motion this morning till an hour after sunrise. I see that we have scarcely advanced this night two miles, calculating from the trees standing towards N.E., behind us, which I remarked yesterday at the village of the Nuèhrs, who, indeed, had fled from us behind the burning wood. We sail slowly to the west, and we should scarcely distinguish the right shore, if some tokul-tops were not seen peeping out at a distance of an hour and a half. From want of wind we halt for a time, and sail then with the shifting N.E. wind, further westward, till we go, at ten o’clock, S.W., and make two miles. At eleven o’clock the wind becomes so strong that we fly by, as it were, the reeds close at hand, and for the first time make six miles. We went here W.S.W.

The right shore was marked out by three or four large trees standing at equal distance from each other, like ancient monuments of the victory gained here with difficulty over the moist element. Twelve o’clock, N.W. by N., four miles: again sky, water, and reeds; in the latter, solitary bunches of ambaks and high reeds. Soon we go gradually S.W. by S., and the stream, although it is only some 200 or 250 paces broad, appears not to have, near this part, any considerable arms, as none such are visible from the mast-head. From this reason the greater current is explained. The white river traverses these reed-lakes in meandering windings, and river buffaloes can break any other road for themselves in this shoreless expanse. The thermometer shews at three o’clock 28°, at noon 25°, and this morning at sunrise 20° Reaumur. It is now nearly a dead calm, and we are scarcely able to move from N.W. to S.W.

My servant Fadl informs me from the mast, that he sees land, indeed, behind us; but at the side, and before us, nothing but gesch (reeds or grass). The great mass of water of the white stream so suddenly making its appearance, is explained partly from this long lake (the breadth of which cannot be determined from the ship without an air-balloon), forming a great basin. This basin (after the reed or marsh-ground of its flat edge being scarcely superficially dried, is in some degree saturated) collects immediately the water streaming from above, below, and the sides, until, becoming a mass, it surmounts its natural flood-gates, as these machadas may be called, like a breach of a dike.