CHAPTER IX.
ROYAL CRANES. — SCRUPLES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — COMPOSITION OF THE SHORES. — DESCRIPTION OF THE DHELLÈB—PALM AND ITS FRUIT. — FORM OF EGYPTIAN PILLARS DERIVED FROM THIS TREE. — DIFFERENCE BETWEEN EGYPTIAN AND GREEK ARCHITECTURE. — DESCRIPTION OF THE SUNT-TREE. — DEATH OF AN ARABIAN SOLDIER. — VISIT OF A MEK OR CHIEF. — DANGEROUS RENCONTRE WITH A LION ON SHORE. — PURSUIT OF THIS BEAST BY THE AUTHOR AND SULIMAN KASHEF WITH HIS MEN. — FEAR OF THE NATIVES AT THE TURKS. — PLUNDER OF THEIR TOKULS BY THE CREW. — BREAD-CORN OF THE DINKAS. — ANTELOPE HUNT. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF THESE ANIMALS. — IMMENSE HERDS ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE NILE. — LIONS AGAIN. — BAD CONDITION OF THE VESSELS.
12th March.—We set out at half-past nine o’clock, and sail to S.E. by E. Shrubs on the higher shore to the right. A quarter before ten, from S.E. by E.; further to the left round a corner, to which a bend corresponds on the opposite shore: this is often the case on the Nile. To E.N.E., and immediately again with a short tract to N.E. The river flows with all its force against the left shore, and therefore the latter is higher, more perpendicular, and disrupt, than the right, which soon, however, becomes similar. We go a short tract libàhn, and see a few miserable small straw tokuls with _thin_ doors, on the left, in the little green underwood, which seems to be nourished by the inundation, and is mostly young döbker.
The shores display again iron oxyde. A quarter before eleven: from E. by N., to the right, E.S.E., where we sail. The shores on the right and left are higher, according to the current, and the falling of the river is accurately marked out on the shore by little gradations, which are exceedingly regular, and one to two inches high. We crawl on only slowly with the faint south wind, and make now one mile; for the current being stagnant below towards the Nile, told me directly that the floating companion of the mountain dissipates quickly its water, differently from the slow, crawling Nile, which is obliged to work through the plain of a lake-basin.
Eleven o’clock. The wind freshens, and we go S.E. and E.S.E. On the left a solitary dhellèb-palm rises on the shore, with its beautiful and really symmetrical head; its slender base without rings, and its elegant foliage. From hence in the bend, further to the right, in S., where five dhellèb-palms break the uniformity of the high shore on the left. A low ridge of a hill lies near them, on which a village must have once stood. If I could but transplant the tallest dhellèb to Louisa’s island, near Berlin, to make it the common property of all the northern nations! It is hot, for the high shores keep the refreshing breeze from the deep water, and only the sail enjoys a cheerful gust of wind, with the assistance of which we go, at a quarter before twelve, from S.W., where a regular forest before us presents itself to the eye, to the left, in S.W. by S. We make two miles; a quarter of a mile, perhaps, being derived from the current. A quarter after twelve, from S.W., to the left, E. by N. We hardly move from the place till it blows from N.E., and then we go better, having four miles’ course. An old sailor runs on shore close by the vessel, to find crocodiles’ eggs; tumbles into holes, falls in the grass, and is using every exertion to find a convenient sand-path instead of the clay. The crew call him to come off, but he wants to shew that he is a nimble fellow—thus every one has his hobby-horse.
The river winds continually in a bend to the left: a wretched stunted forest on the right, and miserable tokuls, without people, here and there on this shore. One o’clock; from E. by N., where the river winds again to the right, S.E. by S. We halt at a quarter before two, at the right shore, yet not to let the men rest; that would be against the Turkish custom, for they think there are no human beings except themselves. At three o’clock we go with libàhn to S.E., and immediately to the left E. Half-past three, in a bend to the right, S.S.E.; and four o’clock, on the left, in the bend, to E.S.E. Five o’clock, from E.N.E., on the right to E., where we stop at the right shore.
Last night I awoke up several times, and the wild geese on the neighbouring lake, seemed to call to me in a friendly manner, and scream “Here _we_ are, for you have not had for a long time either sheep, goats, or fowls.” I was on the wing therefore at day-break, but saw only four royal cranes (grus royal, Arabic gornu, or chornu), one of whom I shot, for they are very delicious when dressed in a ragout. Feïzulla, although he has been seven years in England, drinks drams and wine like a Turk, and scruples to dine with me, because I had not cut the bird’s throat immediately after it was shot, whilst it was yet alive, and made it debièg (koscher, as the Jews say). These beautiful birds, with a tuft of golden hair and shining feathers, appear in flocks on the White River: my Sale killed a brace in a moment, and would have brought us more if he could have followed them. The geese would only surrender at discretion to the “longue carabine,” and I had only my short double-barrel.
I visited once more, on this occasion, the hill above-mentioned, which I found quite adapted for the situation of a village. I had seen already the remains of potters’ ware, and solitary flower-gardens, or plots of ground trodden down, where once tokuls stood, but where now neither grass nor shrubs could grow; and I came to the conclusion that a considerable village must have stood there, which could have belonged only to the Nuèhrs, and was probably destroyed by the Shilluks. Thermometer, sunrise, 21°; half-past nine o’clock, 28°; noon, 29°; no rise beyond that was perceptible afterwards.
_13th March._—Departure at seven o’clock, with libàhn to E.S.E. by E.; then to the left, E.N.E., and we sail with a good north-east wind. A quarter before eight: from E., in the bend to S.E,; on the left some straw tokuls. The wind becomes strong, and we make six miles for the present; the mountain stream seems to be here at its lowest pitch, and has only a quarter of a mile rapidity. Eight o’clock; from S.E. by S.; to the left, E. by S., where we are obliged to go libàhn. A quarter after eight, to the left, but we halt before the corner of the bend till noon, owing to the violent east wind. I made a little excursion into the immeasurable plain, which was tree-less and comfortless; and found two villages, better built than usual, to which I was not able to approach, and likewise a long and dried-up marsh. I could not, unfortunately, discover any guinea-fowls in the durra-stubble.
At twelve o’clock, we proceed with libàhn to N.E., where our Bach’r el Makàda winds again to the right. Half-past twelve. The shores, with few exceptions, attain a height of fifteen to eighteen feet: the upper surface of the soil consists of humus to two or three feet deep (which may be deeper in the low ground, old gohrs, and several tracts), and under it nothing is seen but clay or mud, having a yellowish colour on the shore, from the iron oxyde, with which it is strongly impregnated, and generally more so than on the White Nile, where this is only the case in layers. A fertile country, but requiring human hands, canals, and sakiën. We see from its shores, and in the dried-up pools, which receive very little nourishment here from vegetable matter, particularly on the upper land, that the Sobàt brings down fruitful earth or slime.
From half-past twelve to two, in a bend to the left, S.E., where we go again left in N.E. by N. On the same side there is a tolerably well built little village on the shore. A quarter before three, still further to the left, N. by E. Four o’clock, we wheel to the right in E.N.E., where we get the view of a genuine low forest, and notice on the left a village in the winding to S. by E. Half-past four, also further; a hamlet on the right with straw tokuls, the first on this side. We see here also reed-boats, as among the Nuèhrs and Shilluks on the Nile. At five o’clock to S., where we at first halt at the right shore, before the bend to the left. Two large villages lie from half to three-quarters of an hour distant, and I see an immeasurable bare plain cracked from drought,—a summer shallow lake without any verdure. We go then to the left shore, the soil of which is less mixed with sand than that of the right, and gives us some hope of shooting and fishing. The huntsman Sale returned, however, disconsolate, for he had seen nothing at all.
The left shore is still more precipitous and higher here than the right one, because the stream forces itself into this bend. When we disembark, we find that the land again rises to a gentle acclivity, and we have the prospect of a large lake about three quarters of an hour distant, which overflows perhaps deeper into the Sobàt. Many lakes of this kind must be found in the country of the Dinkas, because springs, as in the Taka country, are not sufficient for the watering of the cattle of this merissa-loving, dancing and singing tribe; and besides, the drawing of the water would cause too much trouble.
The Sobàt is stagnant here in the proper sense of the word, and no log can determine anything else.
_14th March._ We navigate again on the right side, and go at half-past seven o’clock with libàhn from S. by E., immediately S.E., where the north-east wind remains contrary to us, notwithstanding the narrow water-tract. Some small and still green reed-huts hang on the shore, sheltered from the north wind: these are stations for hunters of hippopotami and crocodiles, or for fishermen, who, however, have gone away, and taken with them their working implements, for they are frightened of us. The durra seems to thrive famously on the half-sandy shore, and rises cheerfully above the reeds; probably it is sown,—that is, a handful thrown here and there on the vacant spots.
Eight o’clock—E. by N., and N.E. by E. The upper margin of the right shore is planted throughout with durra, and some small fishing-huts shew that men dwell there. Ten o’clock.—Hitherto always N.E. within considerable deviations, and then N. by E.; where we halt at the corner of the right shore on account of the wind, for the river goes still further to the left: level land above, some underwood, and a village at a little distance. A quarter before one.—N. by W., and about one, in a bend to the right. When the crew relieve one another at the rope, they imitate to perfection the Uh-uh-i-ih of the tribes on the upper part of the White Stream, and during the towing itself they sing the song à-à-à-jòk-jòk, which would be difficult for a white man to do. The force of the water is directed here against the right shore, which is without any crust of vegetation, and seems to ascend to the uppermost margin, as is proved by the gradations being washed away, and the thin layer of humus, one foot to one and a half high, decreases perpendicularly, whilst the lower part of the soil displays unmixed clay. It certainly required a powerful pressure of water to wash this primary deposit to such a depth; the left shore, on the contrary, has a coating of slime and vegetation down to the water.
Two o’clock.—E. by N.; twenty-one dhellèb-palms on the left, with a pastoral hamlet of thirty new straw-tokuls. The crew are beginning to shoot down the dhellèb-fruits, and I also disembark on the shore, beyond which the ground, with the beautiful group of trees, is still imperceptibly elevated. We are quite comfortable there, but I gaze far and wide for a point to break the unbounded flat waste that shews not a thorn or a bush; the river winds melancholy between the naked shores. These palms stand in luxuriant growth,—a proof that the soil is capable of other things, and may look for a better future. The very pretty straw-huts present nothing worth having to our rapacious eyes, and near them we remark the sleeping-places, and a large, glimmering heap of dung, serving at night for fire and a bed. The cow-dung is collected in little heaps in the enclosure, surrounded with palings, where the beast is tied, and is still quite fresh: notwithstanding this, it is very certain that we expect in vain the return this evening of these beautifully spotted cattle. Standing on an old trunk of a tree, I remarked a large village on the right shore at a quarter of an hour up the river.
The dhellèb-tree has the same fibrous texture of bark, and of the interior of the trunks, as the dates and dome-palms; but it is far finer, thicker, and stronger. The outside of the bark shews rings from below upwards, and the tree itself shoots forth slenderly from the earth, and swells gradually towards the centre to a spheroid form, when it decreases again to the top, and rises stately, separating the head from the stem. The fruit is as large as a child’s head, and in clusters, as in the palms before named, but on far stronger stalks, from which it hangs down immediately close to the stem. It is smooth outside, and of a golden colour, like its pulp; the latter is fibrous, of a bitter-sweet taste, like chewing soft wood and leaves behind in the mouth an astringent taste, which may arise here from the fruit not being fully ripe. There are from four to six kernels in this gold apple of the size of a child’s hand, or of those of the dome-palms: the stalk has a scaly covering, surrounding about a third part of the fruit. The kernels, or the nuts, have themselves a solid pulp, shining like dark glass, being exactly similar to that of the dome-fruit: at first it is like milk, but on coming to maturity becomes of the consistency of horn. The trunk of palms is surrounded with the same kind of rings as the date-tree, the rind feeling smooth, like planed wood; consequently it was impossible to climb these trees to gather any fruit, owing principally to the swelling in the centre, and therefore it was shot down. After several attempts, we drove large nails in the stem, to hold the rope by, and then we ascended gradually.
The bark falls off on the ground, as is the case with the other palms, for the tree throws out foliage like grass from the interior: the thick rootlets spread themselves in all directions through the ground, like polypi, with a thousand veins of life.
There seems to me to be no doubt that the Egyptian pillars, protruding in the middle, derived their origin from the dhellèb-palms, which might have been transplanted in the Thebaïs; for it was impossible that the Egyptians should not take notice of the unusual shape of this tree—they who borrowed all their forms and embellishments, even to those of their spoons and salve-boxes, from the kingdom of nature.
Lifeless figures having no meaning are never represented by them; flowers, foliage, leaves, sacred animals, or parts of them properly introduced, are intermixed with hieroglyphics, like a garland, without beginning or end. The Greeks quickly seized what was beautiful in this, discarded what was heavy and confused, and pleased themselves and succeeding ages by lighter and more elegant forms. They placed the acanthus and horns, or volutes on the capitals of their pillars, and the Germans planted a stone-forest as the holiest of holy.
A large village of the Nuèhrs (judging from several potsherds) stood on our hill: this nation dwells up the river from hence and in the direction of the White Stream, where we had seen them last. I had found also on the last landing-place fragments and the foundations of a village, and heard from our blacks that the Shilluks, several years ago, had a great war with the Nuèhrs, drove them from these parts, and took possession of the lake abounding in fish, which I have previously mentioned. We have not remarked any sunt among the mimosas from the country of Bari up to the Sobàt, and even on this river, but we see talle. The latter tree has a reddish bark; the long white prickles grow by couples; the flowers are whitish and without any particular scent; the bark, however, is used for pastilles, and, when rubbed, sprinkled on the merissa. It affords the best gum (gamme, semmag), which is white like that from sunt, while that from the sejal (or sayal) is blackish. Thermometer yesterday morning 22°, and did not rise beyond 27°, and this morning 18°; noon 26° to 29°.
_15th March._ We leave our beautiful palms at half-past nine o’clock, and go from E. by N., and notwithstanding the strong north-east wind, slowly in the bend to the right. A quarter after ten, S.E. by E., then a very short tract S.S.E.: some grass huts of fishermen, and crocodile and hippopotami hunters at the lower declivity of the shore on the left. Half-past ten, to the left S.E., and further to the left, S.E. by E., where we halt at eleven o’clock, because an Arabian soldier has just cried himself to death before our cabin! He wept at having to die in a foreign land and not seeing his mother any more. Nearly all these people lose their courage directly they are attacked by any illness, the nature of which they cannot visibly perceive as they can a wound, &c. He died with a piece of bread in his mouth, because the Arabs believe, and with justice, that so long as you can chew bread you will not die. It is shameful that we dare not take even medicine from the fine black physician we have on board, and much less can we expect assistance or salvation from him. Ten minutes have flown; the deceased is carried to the upper part of the shore, and yet the worthy disciple of Clot-Bey has never even looked at him! We leave at half-past two the place where the soldier was buried in dead silence, after having received five more cows, upon whom the crew fell like wolves, and navigate to the left, E.S.E.; then again slowly to the right. Three o’clock, to S.E. We sail about five minutes, and stop again at the right shore, by the corner where it turns to the left, and then again, “Jo hàmmet, Ja mohammed!” is chaunted at the rope. In the winding below the left shore we saw a water-hunting establishment of seven straw tokuls. A quarter before three, from E.S.E. to E. by S. A quarter after four, E.S.E. Half-past four, E. Some few trees on the right entirely or partly withered, and soon afterwards a few green ones, of which those standing lower shew that the water has poured into the shores, even to the margin. Five o’clock, E. by N., then slowly right to E., where we halt at a quarter of an hour later. The river makes a strong bend to the right, and we hope to sail to-morrow.
This afternoon, when the cows were brought us, I procured a ring, with much difficulty, for sug-sug, and though badly manufactured, it is at least peculiar to the country. I saw several such rings among them, but not one of them had a circular form, and by this we may measure the standard of their skill. Those which are better worked, are found among the Nuèhrs. The five cows came from the Mek, who presented himself in person to Suliman Kashef, with whom Selim Capitan also happened to be: he was clothed in a ferda, which he had received from the Shilluks. He wore a very thick copper ring on his hand, and was of opinion that dress is the privilege of sheikhs. An old woman and a man preceded him; the former attired like an ancient Queen of the Witches. We dressed the mek in a red caftan, put a gay-coloured red handkerchief round his head, and hung glass beads on him. Another cow was brought to us, but they wanted an enormous quantity of sug-sug for it, (these trinkets are generally held in little value here, because the Gelabis frequent these regions,) and still more for goats and sheep. Thermometer, sunrise, 18°; noon and subsequently, 28° to 30°.
_16th March._—Man is not appalled in the midst of danger itself,—if it were so, he would be lost; but the frail human heart throbs afterwards. Yesterday evening I left the vessel, in company with Thibaut, to get at a swarm of finches, which birds are said to give a delicious flavour to a pillau, of which we wanted to be joint partakers. We were soon obliged to separate, in order to salute the birds on both sides of their settlement. In my excursion, however, on the shore, I came all of a sudden within a few steps of a lion, without having the least distant idea that this fearful enemy could be in the neighbourhood of all our vessels, and I had only my double-barrel, which was loaded merely with small shot; whilst my huntsman Sale, was pursuing a gazelle, at a long distance off. Possibly our firing had awakened this supreme chief from his sleep, for otherwise I must have seen him before, although my eye was directed to a brace of birds at the left; because the underwood could not have concealed an object of such size, as it only reached up to the knee, and was merely interspersed here and there with a higher bush. I was just taking aim slowly and almost irresolutely at the two beautiful birds, who were looking at me with surprise and confidence, contrary to the custom of the cunning finches, when the lion stood before me on the right, as if he had sprung from the earth. He was so close to me that he appeared to stand as high as up to my breast, but yet I stood, my poor weak weapon in my hand, holding it close to my side, with perfect presence of mind, so as to keep my face free, and to wait for the attack; I was firm, and he seemed also to be resolute.
At first we stared at each other mutually; he measured me from top to toe, but disregarded the Turkish accoutrements and sun-burnt countenance, for my red cap which he seemed not to despise. I, on my side, recognized in him the dreaded king of beasts, although he wore no mane, according to his usual custom, but I did not appeal to his magnanimity. At last he turned his face from me, and went away slowly with a dreadfully pliable movement of his hinder parts, and his tail hanging down, but could not restrain himself from turning round to look at me once more, while I was trusting to the effect of one or two shots in the eyes or jaws, if it came to a contest of life or death; and really I remained standing immovable, with too much of the _lion_ in me to tremble, and to bring certain destruction on my head by untimely flight. However, away he went, looking round several times, but not stopping, as if he feared pursuit, and I turned my back to him equally slowly, without even calling out a farewell; but I cast a searching look over my shoulders every now and then, right and left, expecting that he might make a spring like a cat, and I kept him in sight before me, when I was about to jump down from the shore on to the sand where the vessels and crew were. I confess openly that I now felt an evident throbbing of the heart, and that my nose seemed to have turned white. Taken unawares as I had been by the lion, the distance of five paces, according to the measurement I made, was nearly too close for me: on his side it was only necessary for him to have smelt me, which probably I should not have allowed. I stood a moment on the margin of the shore, in order that I might tranquilly summon Suliman Kashef to the pursuit of the beast, without betraying any pallor of countenance, and then I jumped down on the sand. When I swore by the prophets to Suliman Kashef that my account was true, he was ready immediately with his sharpshooters. At my advice we formed a line of riflemen above, though I could not obtain a couple of bullets for my gun; but the Turks soon crawled together again, except a tall black slave of Suliman’s, who was at the right wing. When the latter soon afterwards pointed and made signs that the lion was near at hand, his master motioned with his hand and gun that he would shoot him if he did not join us, for he held himself as lost, being left quite alone. We set off at a slight trot, because the lion continued his walk, until at last Suliman, as it began to get dark, ordered three of his boldest warriors to go in advance. Three shots were fired, but the men came back, and described the lion as a real monster. I was actually glad that the magnanimous beast, according to all probability, was not even wounded. They called me again an “Agù el bennaht,” because I accompanied the expedition to see my lion a second time, and they expressed themselves rejoiced that God had preserved me, and wished me happiness, with pious phrases from the Koràn.
To-day we sailed at half-past six o’clock from the place to S.E. and S.E. by S.; at seven o’clock; E. by S., a village on the high shore at the right.
We saw yesterday, from our landing-place, four villages, lying together on the right and left shore, which the Dinkas have taken into their possession. At half-past seven o’clock, after we had sailed only slowly (two miles), owing to the wind being partly adverse, we proceeded to E.S.E. and S.E. by E. The strong breeze caught the sails, and we make seven miles clear of deduction: unfortunately, the tract will not be long. A quarter before eight we stop before the corner, where a winding to the left commences, in order to go libàhn, because the vessels ahead do it. Some huntsmen’s huts, with their inhabitants, stand on the right shore, and I procure, on this occasion, a horn of the Tete species of antelope. We proceed, sailing, to S.E. by E., and E.S.E., and halt a quarter after eight. Again at S.E. by E., to go libàhn round the left. Unfortunately, the wind has torn the sail, which I had feared for a long time would be the case; for it was ripped up in several places, and the Tailor Capitan did not trouble himself about it. “Allàh kerim!” A large village at some distance above. At a quarter before one, we go libàhn to S.E. by E.; then E.S.E. and E. by S. On the right shore a village with Dinka tokuls and sleeping-places. It is not yet, however, decided whether the Dinkas dwell there, although the style of architecture of the tokuls, their grooved and arched roofs, without eaves, seem rather to denote that they belong to this tribe than to that of the Nuèhrs. The wind is very strong, and the crew are obliged to tow with all their might; but the river winds now to the right, and we can, perhaps, sail. A quarter before two. From E. by N., slowly in the bend to the right: a village on the right shore, in the bend to the left, exactly like that on the left side. Half-past two, E. by S. We cannot see anything of the village here, owing to the high shore; and the blacks, who stood shortly before in large numbers on the shore, have fled because they saw the Turkish countenances of Suliman Kashef’s halberdiers. The Turk is pleased at such fear, which is associated with hatred and contempt on the part of the negroes. A quarter before three; S. by W. The wind makes the men at the rope run; but we are not able to sail, because the river winds immediately to the left. We have a low sand-island at our right. Our men will let nothing lie by the huntsmen’s huts: tortoise-shells (water-tortoises), vessels,—such as gadda, burma, gara—everything is carried off; for the blacks have imbibed the Turkish notion of “Abit,” and are now askari (soldiers), who pretend to know nothing of their countrymen.
Three o’clock. To the left in S. and S.S.E.; then again to the right. Half-past three. We sail a little S. by W. and S. by E.; a village on the left. The Dinkas appear to mix everything called corn to make bread; such as durra, lubiën of different species, gourd or melon stones, &c., of which I have a specimen; and also lotus seeds, found here in great quantities, and therefore denoting that there are several lakes in the interior, and the small rice I have mentioned previously. A large hippopotamus shewed himself on the flat left shore: he was afraid of the vessels and the shouting of the crew, and trotted in a semicircle, like an immense wild boar, in order to plunge into the water with a greater roar. Four o’clock. To the left E.S.E. Five o’clock. From E. further to the left.
The crawling along these cheerless shores, notwithstanding the shouting, jokes, teasing, and stumbling on board the vessels from side to side, and sometimes into the water, and the huzzaing when that takes place—notwithstanding all the various kinds of occupation and non-occupation which may amuse us for a short time—is exceedingly wearisome; and it is well for me if I retain my senses to sketch here and there an idea, which may be followed out or rejected by those whose attainments are higher, and who have the advantage of an enlightened circle, where opinions and views can be expressed and discussed. Such a circle, however, cannot be found in Bellet Sudan, or on board my vessel. We halt a little after six o’clock in E.N.E., at the right shore. Thermometer, sunrise, 18°; noon, 27° and 28°; sunset, 27°.
_11th March._—We had a great antelope-hunt yesterday evening. Amongst others, there was an Ariel with twenty-five rings on its horns, and a Tete, and three female Tilli. The latter, also a species of antelopes, are of lighter colour than the Ariels, and almost white, whilst the Tete has a dark-brown coat with white breast and belly. The female Tilli are distinguished by having long tails, but the males are said to be bare behind. I was not able to leave the vessel sufficiently early to see a herd of more than a thousand antelopes that were going to the watering-place. My huntsman, also, who had struck into another road, saw some hundred together; all the others agreed that there were these thousand which I have mentioned. But they soon dexterously divided to the right and the left on the immeasurable level of this land, where there was merely low grass, wild bamie and a quantity of basil, which latter was also met with on all sides in the countries further up; and Suliman Kashef only shot four, and my Sale not a single one. I myself could only see some antelopes on the horizon, because it was already getting dusk, and I stopped with Sabatier close to the vessels, in case some beast should be scattered from the herd, but in vain. On this occasion, also, I saw two lions at a distance.
At night the wind blew in coldly at the door and windows, and even this morning the north-east wind was cool. At half-past six we proceed E.N.E., and in a bend further to the right E. and E. by S., where we make a stronger evolution to the right. Eight o’clock. Libàhn from S.E. by S. to S. We glide over shallows apparently consisting of rubble-stone; the wind becomes strong and tosses the waves. A quarter before nine, S.E. by S. to S., then still more to the left, where we are soon thrown by the wind on the left shore, and stop in E.S.E. Thibaut is with me, and they are calling for him; his ship is full of water, and all the crew are summoned there: it is fortunate that we are near land. Selim Capitan neglected to have the vessels caulked at Khartùm, or to order at least gotrahm (instead of tar) to be applied to the parts which we had stopped up with some oakum.
At five minutes’ distance above, a large village deserted by people; we are magnanimous enough on our side to keep the crew from plundering it. It is slightly elevated: the same is also the case with the shore, so that shallow lakes are formed right and left, at present dry, and having vents to the water, which apparently are kept open by human hands for the sustentation of the soil,—on which, however, nothing is seen. A number of snail-shells are lying together on the surface just as I have seen in other places, and it seems that snails are eaten. We remain here on account of the accident to Thibaut’s vessel, but the shores, _à talus_, do not allow us to bring it on the dry land. Thermometer 17° and 24°.