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.