Chapter 16 of 20 · 10005 words · ~50 min read

CHAPTER VII.

QUESTION OF THE NAVIGATION OF THE NILE. — KING OF THE SNAKES. — OFFERINGS TO HIM BY THE ARABS. — KURDISTAN. — MÀRIAN’S AUTHORITY OVER THE NEGROES. — THE TAILOR CAPTAIN AGAIN. — DHELLÈB-PALMS. — WANTON DESTRUCTION BY THE CREW. — ELEPHANTS: WHITE BIRDS ON THEIR BACKS. — POISON-TREES. — THE NATION OF THE KÈKS: CUSTOMS AND DESCRIPTION OF THEM. — FLESH OF CAMELS AND GIRAFFES. — MERISSA PREPARED FROM ABRÈ. — THIBAUT DISCOVERED TO BE AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. — RECOLLECTIONS OF GREECE. — WILD CUCUMBERS. — FEIZULLA CAPITAN’S DRINKING PROPENSITIES.

17th December.—Immediately after sunrise we sailed S.S.E.; at eight o’clock, S.S.W., and at nine o’clock, S.W. by S. The stream we navigate is tolerably broad, and appears, so far as we can see over the reedy-sea, to be the only one. On the right shore we have still the dhellèb-palms of yesterday in sight; the land retreats towards S.E., whilst the left shore comes nearer, and lets us see individual tokuls and villages. Some blacks stand on the shore, which approaches us at nine o’clock within gun-shot. They greet us and make signs, but we cannot go to them on account of the reeds, willingly as we would make their acquaintance, in order to provide ourselves again with meat. Ten o’clock. The left shore appears to go S.W. with the river, calculating from some trees and dhellèb-palms. The east wind is tolerably strong; we make three miles. A large pelican was shot, and there were found in the pouch under its bill twenty-four fresh fish, the size of moderate herrings. This burden had impeded its flight from our vessels, and prevented it from swallowing its prey, on the death-shot, as is usual with these birds.

If we consider this enigmatical stream territory, we ask ourselves whether the white river, of and _by itself_, with such a weight of water, can maintain these lagoons under an African sun? Were the Nile _one_ stream, it must flow off faster; for the rains have already ceased here, and previously, indeed, under the Equator itself. How could the Nile, which still shews its peculiar disposable mass of water, in its main-stream, supply, quite _alone_, that enormous mass of water, and even to the present time maintain under water these immense reedy lakes, unless other tributary streams, the mouths of which stagnate, owing to the level nature of the ground, and the counter-pressure of the main-stream, supplied a nourishment great beyond belief, to this, with which it equally rises and falls? For the whole mass of water _in complexu_ must suffer an incredible diminution during such a long tract in its slow ebbing, under a burning sun, or this Bahr-el-Abiad must have real giant-springs in its source.

A steam-boat here might surmount many difficulties, and give us the necessary corrections for a map, which cannot be effected by sailing with a constant wind, owing to the often diametrically opposite windings, and the endless difficult calculations. In order to bring such a steam-vessel safe over the upper cataracts of Wadi Halfa, or even of Es-Suan, it must be constructed in such a manner that the paddle-wheels could be entirely taken out, so that it might be towed over by ropes, or it must be built in Khartùm, which, indeed, might be difficult from want of good timber, as the sunt-tree, though very strong, affords but brittle wood. The greatest difficulty would be the establishment and protection of coal-magazines; and with regard to applying charcoal to this purpose, although the White Stream in its lower course has forests enough, yet not so on its middle and upper part: and even if the requisite wood should be found, much time must be lost in felling and preparing it for charcoal. A considerable number of men also would be always necessary for the protection of these establishments, and their consumption of victuals would be so great, that their provisions would leave no room for the charcoal, as the vessels could not be _heavier_ laden. There is another very great consideration,—these labyrinths go through the marshy regions. If only a few men, therefore, should be embarked, and other vessels employed to take up coals, their crews must consist entirely of men selected for the purpose, and known to one another, in order that they might communicate with the inhabitants of the shore, and be able to aim at something more than simply ascertaining the course of the river. Europeans only are fit for this, as they have ideas of humanity, and subjection to the will of One.

At last we have determined to take the clumsy kaiàss in tow, at the droll request of Hässeïn Aga. Our vessel began with it, in order to form a line with the other larger Dahabiës. At eleven o’clock we discerned, upon a marsh island, near the left shore, some thirty talle-trees; this genus we had missed for some time. Here we turn S.S.E., and with a small bend E.S.E., and then E. by S. We were driven by the east wind close to the right bank of the reeds before we had reefed the sails. The only remaining hope that the river may follow its winding course, and bring us, with the assistance of rowing a short way, into a more favourable direction.

Hüsseïn Aga, who is on board our vessel, with another Kurd of Suliman-kashefs, confirms what we had already heard from the Kurd Abdul-Elliàb, and which all these people firmly believe,—namely, that derwishes know how to prepare a liquor, which, if but once drunk of, is a preventive thenceforward of the bite of a snake, or of rendering it harmless. Such a derwish is said to be found even in Khartùm. But some few words, which they assert to be a secret, are requisite to exorcise or find out where snakes are. I then heard that the King of the Snakes is called Shah Maràn. They cannot say, however, where this Sultan lived or died before he assumed the form of a snake, nor do they know his fixed residence, for he sometimes appears in one place, sometimes in another, like the two tutelar deities by water and land, Abu Seïd and Abd-el-Kader. The Arabs are also said to adjure this Snake King in their exorcisms. Even the long sailor, Salem, whom I had patronised on account of his German countenance, and to whom I had given some piasters for the snakes he brought me, one of which he even seized with naked hands before my eyes, affirmed by his silence that he would not trust me, even under the greatest promises of secrecy, with this mystery, inherited from his father. The country of this Shah Maràn is in Turkish Kurdistàn, not very far from Adana, where there are two villages exempted from paying tribute on condition of supplying the snakes there with milk.

Abd-Elliab had himself offered milk to the snakes in that region, and swore that he had seen with his own eyes this King, unless it was a Wokil or deputy, of whom Maràn has many. Abd-Elliab poured his milk into one of the basins there formed by nature, whereupon, in the first place, a large snake, with long hair on its head, rolled out from the hole in the rock, and drank of it. This great chief then retired, without, however, speaking a word to him, as it had done to others; because, at that time, he had not abjured strong drinks. Afterwards other snakes crawled out from all the clefts of rocks, and took the remains of the milk, as being subjects of the former one. The two other Kurds (sing. _Kurd_ plur. _Krat_), who were not friends with this Koran-hero, vouched for the truth of their countryman’s statement, and gave it as their opinion that the great Maràn only shewed himself to a saint, or a Sultan; and that he had a human face, for that otherwise he could not speak and give advice.

They related, likewise, more credible histories of their country; how their capital city, Nausùd, stands upon a high, impregnable rock, where the Sultan Haidar resides, and has six Bashas under him; that all the warriors wear armour, and are mounted, and that the mountaineers themselves have _never_ been subdued. Then they spoke of their manner of hunting, and their hawking for hares and gazelles, and said that a good falcon costs 2000 piastres. They suffer no Jews to reside in their state, and assert that the latter kill and drink the blood of prisoners, when they happen to be Krat (Kurds).

At half-past four Selim Capitan returned to us, because he thought some accident must have happened; the ships which had preceded having waited for us three hours. Feizulla Capitan, with the same zeal that he read, a short time ago, the Koràn, so that he neither heard nor saw, now sits at his tailoring, and lets the crew do what they like. They therefore never think of exerting themselves and seizing the oar, but draw the vessel forward on the reeds, slinging a rope round it to tow it. We had scarcely made one mile, when the river wound towards the right side from E. by S. to S.S.E., and we saw beyond the reeds, projecting in a sharp angle, the other vessels with their glittering sails.

That the reeds have sufficient strength to encroach in this manner on the path of the river, or that a counterpressure from the left shore, although no tributary stream is visible in the neighbourhood takes place, indicates the weakness of the current. So far it is established, that if a straighter bed here could be assigned to the river, by removing the reeds, it would have a fall, and, by that means, a more rapid flow. These marsh lakes might be made dry at certain seasons of the year, and an immeasurable, fertile, low country would be gained, such, perhaps, as exists not elsewhere in the world. And this cutting through of the reeds does not lie beyond the reach of possibility, if once ideas of cultivation of land spread even here. Some miserable tokuls, on small elevated spots, peep out from the reeds; their vicinity to snakes, gnats, and other vermin, is not to be envied. We follow the course of the river, at four o’clock, towards S.S.W., and set three more oars on, without Feïzulla Capitan’s orders.

Again there is contention among the blacks, who are of different tribes. Prince Mariàn, the serjeant, lashes away in a very vigorous manner between them, with his nabùt, and by his simple look calms the wild, inflamed passions of these Negroes, which neither the Captain, nor Abd-Elliab (if even the latter had been still on board), could have succeeded in doing. They have all a peculiar _veneration_ for this man, whom they call their _Mak_, and he had needs only express a wish, and it would go hard with us whites.

We soon went S.S.W., and at sun-set, E.S.E. The rowers then rest on their laurels, for Feïzulla must wind up his thread, and he never once looks up to see whether the other vessels are going a-head. At last I myself take to the oars, as well as Mariàn, in order to set the people a good example. The tailor-captain sat up on the deck near the lantern, and had himself fanned, for the gnats will not respect his artistical fingers. He was never vexed at bringing down Selim Capitan’s reproaches, for his tarrying behind, but only annoyed at being obliged, though for a short time, to leave his sewing implements, to which he faithfully stuck, with an incredible indolence and indifference to every thing else. The people rested every moment, and we did not reach the vessels waiting for us, where the river goes S.E., till nine o’clock.

_18th December._—Half an hour before sunrise we followed our course towards S.E., and the east wind blew so faintly that it scarcely swelled the sails, and we moved but with difficulty from the spot. My mast-watcher, Fadl, says that a river, from the trees of the left shore, which I see, upon the deck, behind us, towards N.W., enters into the land in a basin far above an hour; that this land is covered with trees, and again approaches the river towards the south, and that many tops of tokuls are visible upon the right tree-less shore, away beyond the reeds and grass, at a distance of two hours. We are therefore again in a lake, wherein this large village, according to his account, lies upon a neck of land which corresponds with the bay of the left bank.

After an hour and a half, we take to our oars, and double, for the first time, a corner towards E., and immediately afterwards to E. by N. The damp yesterday evening was so great that it penetrated our clothes. In the reeds there was continual croaking, chirping, waddling, and springing up of the spawning-fish, such as we had not before heard. Birds also flew over us, uttering a shrill and whistling sound, said to announce a storm. We torment ourselves till eleven o’clock by slowly moving along the right shore of the reeds; and in order to get the crew into some activity, I have forced the tailor out of his shop, for the east wind has become stronger, and the river makes a bend before us to the south, as we perceived by the masts of the ships waiting for us. We sail, therefore, towards the south, to the other vessels, which have already got a considerable start of us. We quit this southern direction at the end of an hour, go for half an hour towards S.E., and then more eastward and E. by S., where again we are obliged to take to our oars. The group of the thirteen dhellèb-palms, which previously stood south of us, retreats to the left shore. We saw here four fishing-huts in the reeds, near which some blacks were occupied in fishing. At noon S.E., and at two o’clock towards E., sailing.

One can scarcely form an idea of the continual and extraordinary windings of the river. Half an hour ago we saw, on the right, the Muscovite’s vessel, and on the left the other vessels a-head _on a line_ with us, separated, however, by the high grass, from which their masts and sails joyfully peeped forth. I could scarcely persuade myself that we had proceeded from the one place, and shall steer to the other. There is something cheerful and tranquilizing in this life-like picture of ships seeking and finding each other again in the immeasurable grass-sea, which gives us a feeling of security. It must be a sight to the people of this region that they cannot comprehend, owing to the distance.

Those sixteen dhellèb-palms have at last approached to within gun-shot. I had counted them four times, and every time found another, so exactly does one trunk cover the other. I do not call them _handsome_ trees, because they stand there in the green wilderness; no, I find them really beautiful, for there is a peculiar charm in them. They rise like double gigantic flowers upon slender stalks, gently protruding in the middle, and not like those defoliated date-palms, which stand meagerly, like large cabbage-stalks. It is impossible that the latter should delight my poor heart, full of the remembrance of shady trees,—the oaks and beech-trees of Germany; the planes near Parnassus; the cypress on the Bosphorus, and the chestnuts on the Asiatic Olympus. About three o’clock we landed on the left shore, and found it dry, to our astonishment, but still green, and covered with high grasses. Near the palms were four ant-hills, on the tops of which we found the wet blue clay worked up. Some miserable tokuls also stood around, but they were deserted by the inhabitants. To my sorrow, I see again a sürtuk destroyed, for the sake of some splinters of wood, merely to keep up a fire the whole night for amusement, on board the sandal,—not to drive away the gnats, for they let the fire burn in a clear flame. Wherever they have the opportunity of displaying their petulance, our blacks also are ever ready. They are not ever ashamed to have always in their mouths the word “Abit,” although they themselves are slaves, and will be so while they live, though clad in the soldier’s smock frock, for the Turkish soldiery have not yet qualified themselves for an honourable condition.

It shews a want of order, nautical policy, and tact, on the part of the commanders, to allow the poor inhabitants of the left shore to be injured. They are said for some days past to belong to the nation of the Nuèhrs. Suliman Kashef has made over some of his own crew to us, to assist in rowing our vessel; but Feïzulla plays tauola (tavola), or backgammon, with a Turk, and thinks, when he does not hear the stroke of the oar, that we are sailing. I had collected some pretty plants near those villages, and found wild cucumbers, without prickles, as well as a kind of aloe, seeming here to thrive on marshy soil. About five o’clock we had to be towed a short distance; then we took a little to our oars, and at sun-set joined the other ships in the east. The river has a depth of three fathoms and about three-quarters of a mile rapidity in the intersection. I appeal to Suliman Kashef to prevent the taking away and hewing up of sürtuks. He himself confesses that the Icthyophagi dwelling here in the reeds, being entirely cut off from the rest of the world, would be lost, as it were, without their fishing-boats, since they can neither swim nor wade through the marshes; he promises therefore to forbid it.

_19th December._—We had cast anchor in the middle of the stream, and the right shore was raised above the grass, to the distance of a quarter of an hour; it was quite bare, notwithstanding its row of palm-trees. It is a dead calm, and we do not put ourselves in motion till half-past seven o’clock, assisting the slackened sails by rowing. We bend immediately to the W., and I see before me, to my astonishment, the sixteen palms again standing and the row of palms just mentioned behind us, as well as the vessels preceding us on the left towards the E. Near the palms of the right shore, we remarked not a family, but a small army of elephants, moving slowly here and there under the trees, apparently for the purpose of tasting the dhellèb-fruit. This is not yet grown to its full size, nor ripe; but perhaps they will shake it down by the weight of their body, as I have seen them in Taka, do with the doum-palms. Two elephants were previously shewn me in the country, where we saw the giraffes and ostriches, appearing in the far distance like hills, until they began to move.

At half-past eight o’clock, S.E. by E., north-east wind, but faint, and only one mile and a half course. In the space of half an hour, we shall be advancing to the south, where the other ships are already. The serpentine winding of the Nile would have a beautiful appearance from an air-balloon, striving, as it does, to break a road through the reeds in all directions.

The steersman would often be puzzled what direction to take if we did not push against the stream, which requires labour and exertion. If it were otherwise, they would let themselves drift with “Allah Kerim,” and most certainly would fall every moment with the high water into unknown paths among the reeds, and pass several islands by force, or remain sticking therein.

At half-past nine o’clock we proceed westwards, in order to go again southwards after a quarter of an hour, as we see by the vessels sailing before us. At eleven o’clock to S.W. two miles and a quarter, and at twelve o’clock only one mile and a quarter. At one o’clock the wind has almost entirely died away, when we again turn towards the south. The sixteen palms are still visible behind us, and we must have advanced in little curves, as we see by the vessels behind us, during my short sleep, caused by the nightly epileptic fits of Feïzulla Capitan. Wonderful to relate, we have sailed by them, the captain having roused himself, for a short time, from his apathy. Bushes of high reeds, and little forests of ambaks in Nile grass; before us a long group of palms, which, as Fadl at the mast-head thinks, belongs to the right shore.

From south we make a small bend towards east, and turn a little corner of the left shore of reeds to S.W., where we again derive some advantage from the nearly exhausted wind. I hear from the mast that the left shore winds back to south, and that the right again approaches the river in a semicircle.

For some days past the stream has appeared whitish or clouded to the superficial observer. Viewing it however, through the glass, we find it quite clear. It is also well tasted, which was not the case throughout the marshy lakes. If we find the river, having here a breadth of five hundred paces, and a depth of from three to four fathoms, we continue to ask the question, from whence does this enormous mass of water come?

We have already passed the limits wherein the Mountains of the Moon have been placed. It would almost seem the river is accumulated in a cauldron-shaped valley, the declivities of which encroach with long arms on the African world, and from which the discharge after the periodical rains would be also only _periodical_. Unless it has an immeasurable tributary stream as an unfailing source from a south-westerly ramification of the Abyssinian high lands, because the _level_ ground, notwithstanding its tropical vegetation, has too little power of attraction to justify such an enormous power of throwing out water by the instrumentality of a lake, under the absorbing African sun.

The breadth of the current amounts generally here to about five hundred paces; its reed-lakes are always at the side. At half-past two o’clock we move slowly S.S.E. with the north wind, which has nearly died away, and set to work with the oars. We are glad that it is a north wind, thinking that it may become constant before the end of this month. Four o’clock. What Fadl said three hours ago is confirmed even now, inasmuch as I see from the deck the right shore more than a quarter of an hour distant, though I am not able from the cabin to look over the reeds. The palms stand here in graceful rows, and satisfy the wandering eye in search of something to rest upon; an isolated dhellèb is also seen far up the river. We sail W. by S., and a skirt of trees with some dhellèbs behind approaches us, but is lost soon again in the distance to S.W. There is nothing to be distinguished on the left shore. Ant-hills are visible in the reeds, among which, in spite of their fresh green, there are dry spots.

On the right shore we noticed a giraffe and twenty elephants, the latter teazed in an impudently friendly manner by white birds, against whom they tossed up their trunks: their tormentors, however, always returned to their heads and high backs, in order to pick the ticks out of their thick skins, like the crows on the pigs in Greece. They appear to me to be the very same birds we saw in Egypt perched on cows and camels. When the last-named animals have old wounds on their backs, they are visited by birds of prey. I was never allowed to shoot them, because the Arabs believe that they pick out _only_ the tainted flesh, and even contribute to heal the wounds, when the unmerciful cauterization of these people proves ineffectual. Mariàn shewed me some trees, of singular shape, having a corolla like that of a cactus. They are called _Shudder el Simm_, or poison-trees. On the left bank of the river I saw fourteen miserable tokuls upon the partly dried up morass, projecting between the reeds, and various iron pots lying about. They had the usual pointed roof of straw or halfa; the lower wall of reeds was plastered over with morass. Judging from this plaster, which had fallen off three feet high from the earth, the water had only risen here four feet, reckoning the height of the island at a foot. This, the highest water-line, had not been able to carry away an old thatched roof of some four feet high, and six feet diameter.

Beyond these fishing-huts, spread far and wide in the water, is reed grass, overtopped like a bush by high rushes. Now I find it explained why the White Stream on the efflux of these slime-lakes, wherein thousands of animals miserably die, stands in such bad repute in Khartùm, because we found ourselves a short time ago, when in a tributary arm of the river, in a nonplus,—the water being really undrinkable. A microscope might generally give interesting results in these places. The lakes must not be considered as similar to the slime-lakes of the Blue Nile, Rhine, and Rhone.

Sunset, six o’clock.—From the mast the right shore is seen retreating to the distance of an hour, and approaches again before us, whilst the left bank comes near us for a moment, so that a round basin with a wide mouth is created. We hoist sails, and row to S.E. by S.

It is evident that the Nile, which we traverse, in spite of all its circular windings, can never go out of the path of that _old shore_ so often denoted. It is certain that these windings enclose the gigantic bed of the stream in vast curved lines; for the primitive stream could not be arrested by a paltry opposition, as the present one is, even by the reeds. If a journey by land were practicable on the old border of the Nile, the road would be far shorter. The thermometer has now got up to 25°. We stay behind during the night, because the crew will not work any more. Feïzulla Capitan retreats ashamed into the cabin and says not a word.

_20th December._—Even before daybreak I went out of the cabin to watch the weather; but the mist which melted away yesterday morning at the rising-sun, did not make its appearance. Nevertheless, I watched for the third time the dawn of morning, and found I could read a printed book three-quarters of an hour before sunrise. The morning dawn is, therefore, not so very short as is generally believed. I had previously remarked this also in Khartùm. We had 26° Reaumur, yesterday afternoon, in spite of the dead calm only 25°. The fall of dew was considerable, and wetted my guns even through the window, which I had scarcely opened. The hippopotami put their heads above water, as if to consider the appearance of our ships.

Immediately after the sunrise a gentle wind arose, directly increasing, however, to a strong breeze, and we sailed from the north, S.W.; but soon rounded a sharp corner of the reeds on the right shore towards E. A group of high rushes of twenty feet high above the water was entwined picturesquely with the blooming convolvulus, which also floated in long tendrils with numerous flowers upon the water, intersected, likewise, by high aquatic herbs and low plants. The water hurries partly in cheerful flowing rivulets through this group, in order to seek the nearest channel. The left shore surrounds us at a distance of half an hour or an hour, in a beautiful arch, with palm clumps and isolated trees, from N. to S. by E.

Our course amounts to two miles and a half, and the rapidity of the river here is generally half a mile. Nine o’clock.—Just as I lift up my eyes, we go again from S.W. to E. by S., and immediately to S.W., where we see some strong trees before us. Half-past nine o’clock, S., then S.W., subsequently S., and then S.E., with four miles’ course.

Once more we see, after a lapse of a long time, a certain number of people, said to form a considerable nation, under the name of Kèks. The little village yonder contains only thirteen wretched tokuls; the pointed roofs are low, and, like the walls, of straw. Among the trees there are some which branch out vigorously, and have a thick green foliage; they are said also to be found in upper Kordofàn or Nuba, where, according to Mariàn, they are called Tihls. Their fruit is long and large, like the pumpkin, and edible. Possibly a Nuba negro may think them relishing; but subsequently, when we found a number of such trees, called by the Arabs _elephant-trees_, I found the unripe fruit not eatable. The Arabs also, who themselves eat _locusts_, although not from choice, never eat this fruit even when ripe. Isolated poison-trees also stand round about there. A second village lay back in the reeds. The people were of a livid colour, and naked; they smear themselves, as the Shilluks are said partly to do, with Nile slime, as a protection against the sting of gnats.

It was affecting to see how these poor creatures raised both hands high in the air, and let them slowly fall, by way of greeting. A woman likewise, naked to the girdle, greeted us, placing her elbows somewhat close to her body, and made with her hands, the flat side upwards, the motion of saluting usual also with us. She had an ivory ring round her head, and another round the neck; which last must have been either ingeniously put together, or slipped over her head in her youth. The men wore ivory rings around one arm. A man turned towards his hut, as if inviting us in; another stood alone, lifted his hands, and jumped round in a circle upon one spot.

[Illustration: DOUM-PALMS. DHELLEB-PALMS. BAOBABS. BAOBABS.

A VILLAGE OF THE SHILLUKS, ON THE LEFT SHORE OF THE NILE.

25TH MARCH, 1841.]

Our Dinkas (whose language is allied to that of the Nuèhres and Keks), said that they wanted durra from us, and told us that their cows were far away, and would not return till evening. (Durra is called in Bellet-Sudàn, _esh_, which denotes _bread_ in Egypt, and plainly indicates to the primeval bread-corn of the Egyptians found still in the old tombs; but it is also here used for _bread_ in the Egyptian manner, whilst the pancake-bread is called _kisra_.) Our Dinkas, as well as Mariàn, asserted in the most positive manner that these _Kèks kill no animal_, but only live on grains of seed and milk. I could distinguish no hair on their heads, and heard that they coat it with clay, and let it dry in the sun. I greeted them with my hand, and _two_ of them repeatedly jumped in the air, and gave me to understand that they recognised my salute. These must be the real happy Ethiopians, for they seem to lead a blameless life, and they do not even have festivals, like the Homeric ones. I could not ascertain, with certainty, whether this sparing of animal life extends also to game and fish; it was generally asserted, however, that they eat cattle that _die a natural death_. The latter also is partly done in the land of Sudàn, but not by the genuine Arabs; it is even contrary to the Koràn, to eat a beast struck by a bullet, unless its throat has been cut whilst it yet lived, to let out the blood: this is scouted also by the Hebrews.

At Khartùm, I saw, one morning, quite early, two dead camels lying on a public square; the men were cutting off large pieces to roast, and the dogs stood mournfully around. I myself, with Drs. Fisher and Pruner, helped to consume, in Kàhira, a roasted portion of Clot Bey’s beautiful giraffe, which had eaten too much bersim (white clover): the meat is very tender, and of tolerably fine grain; the tongue appeared to me a real delicacy. I could never acquire a taste, however, for the course fibrous flesh of camels, even when they were young. A German cook might, however, know how to make it palatable by a suitable sauce. We ourselves have dressed very tolerable sauerbraten[6] from the tough beef in Khartùm.

Half past ten o’clock. We row round a corner N.E. by N., and are obliged, owing to the north wind, which is against us in this short passage, to make use of the sandal as a leader, in order to drag after us the Kaiàss. We wind then S.S.W.: the wind has freshened, and we make four miles. At noon a short track to the S.E., but only for a short time, and we halt on the reeds, opposite to the right shore. Thibaut visited and invited me to a Burma of merissa, which he had prepared from _Abrè_. This Abrè is a very fine kind of bread; it is baked on the usual pan (Docka), by pouring liquid dough of durra meal on it, and immediately scraping it down with a knife; to free it from the clay or iron-pan, some butter is put over it now and then. If a handful of these broken wafers are thrown into a gara, with water, they give a wonderful coolness to what they float in, and a pleasant acid taste. On this account it is the usual drink in the land of Sudàn, and a welcome draught to the thirsty traveller.

Thibaut had made a large Burma of water in a state of fermentation with this fine bread, and let it work for three days, till the bread part had sunk to the bottom. This merissa must, however, be quickly drank, or else it becomes sour. Naturally enough, it was far better than that prepared in the usual way from warm bread, and withal uncommonly strong and intoxicating. Even the finer kind of merissa, called in Sennaar Billbill, is inferior to it. Abrè Nareïn, as the corpulent Sheikh Defalla prepared it for us during the campaign in Taka, and as it is drank by the kings of Sennaar, is only superior to it. This liquor is like beer, and twice put on the fire (Nar), whereby it acquires its name Abrè Nareïn.

Thibaut’s Reïs (steersman) exhibited the first proofs of the intoxicating effects of this merissa, and was persuaded to delegate the task of steering the ship to the former; but Thibaut, who had begun even earlier to test its strength, was still less capable of commanding his vessel. The wind had thrown us, in a trice, towards the other side of the little lake, which forms part of the river. I had previously remarked the dazzling contrast which the water of the basin made, through its dark-blue colour, to our course. We think that we discern in the three segments of that water, three mouths of a river, separated by the reeds. Beyond this, we also see a real water track, coming from S.S.E., which may be a river of less importance, but we could not approach close enough to discover this. It was only with a great deal of difficulty that we got loose again from the reeds, and came into the stream.

We saw Selim Capitan, somewhat behind this little lake, halting at a village; and a man, who was soon after followed by four women, wading through the water and going on board. This village, on the left shore, was called Baiderol, and its Sheikh, Ajà. They gave presents to these people, but could not learn from them the name of the great lake; and were soon obliged to ship off, for all the tribe poured down to get presents of glass beads. These people belonged to the nation of the Kèks, who are always at war with the Nuèhrs. I remarked here a new construction of tokuls; as usual, of reeds and straw, but with flat, cupola-shaped roofs. In the former expedition, the Turks came here also to Shàmata (contention-war) with the natives, because the latter had incautiously fired arrows in the air, which the Turks looked upon as a declaration of war, and therefore shot down several people.

Thibaut read me the description he has given of Arnaud in his journal; and I found in the course of conversation, that we had, in 1822, been together at Philhellenes, in Greece. We lodged close to one another in Tripolizza, when the Greek heroes (who at that time very modestly called themselves Romanians, and were unacquainted with the name of Hellenes) began suddenly to murder, in a base manner, at the Bazaar, fifty-four unarmed Turkish prisoners, who for some time had managed to prolong their wretched existence in the city. We Franks saved three of the wounded Turks in our house, and would not give them up, though the blood-thirsty people collected before the door. On this occasion, Dr. Dumont (familiar with the modern Greek language), and the brave Captain Daumerque, beloved by us all, (subsequently gloriously known in the Egyptian army by the name of Khalim Agà,) distinguished themselves in the manner most honourable to mankind in general, and man in particular.

We remembered very well, that in the everlasting quarrels which took place, the word “Greek” surpassed all other insults, and was inevitably followed by a duel, without any other reparation of the injured honour ever being thought of.

Without the knowledge of my parents, who fancied that I would exchange Bonn for another university, I had travelled with my friend, the now Professor Dieffenbach, of Berlin, to Marseilles. George Thibaut had done the same thing, and thrown up his clerkship in Paris. I found my books, the Pandects of Mackeldey, with the Archbishop of Argos, turned into cartridges, in order that I might beat the Turks blue with the Roman _Corpus juris civilis_, &c. It was a dangerous and adventurous undertaking. Thibaut went with the other Frenchmen and Italians to Egypt, to offer the Basha his services. I learnt eventually to find out the fellows, who are even now figuring away as robbers, and returned from Smyrna to my dear native land, like an undeceived Phillhellene who had known, however, how to distinguish the unworthy cause of these _Synclides_. Ten years afterwards I again found the old people in celebrated Hellas, only better laced up and combed, in high Turkish caps.

The river makes from this basin a strong bend to N.N.E.; we had sometimes, therefore, to use oars, sometimes the towing-rope. The breadth of the river, including the reeds, is from one hundred and fifty to two hundred paces. The rapidity of the current below that little lake is one mile; it decreases, however, to half a mile in the basin, and amounts now to one mile and a half. Our course was very troublesome, slow, and so irregular, that it would be difficult to calculate the length of this short passage. We sailed then a short tract to the S.W., then S. and E., rowed N.W., and after sunset to the north, without having advanced further to the south. The latitude is 7° 48′, and the longitude 27° 41′ east of Paris.

_21st December._—I passed the night on board Thibaut’s vessel, for mine had remained behind. This morning we worked towards the east. We found in the little lake of yesterday such beautiful clear water as only the Blue Nile displays at low ebb. Its dark water is kept back in a sharp cut by the current of the still high Nile. It may be inferred that the goodness of it arises from a neighbouring spring-lake, or from a mountain-river, the blue water of which may flow, even in other places, imperceptibly through the reeds to the Nile: this is the case also with the Gazelle River. It was a pity that, when we drank of the beautiful water, the village of Baiderol lay behind us. My vessel will not even yet work up; I visit, therefore, the Frenchmen, to inspect the hygrometer. It was about eight o’clock, and the hygrometer shewed 70°: at night, however, it had got up to 75°, and usually went back at noon to 20°: which may be taken as the average in these lakes. For a long time there have been only very few streaky clouds in the horizon, which were scarcely to be distinguished from the firmament.

I saw yesterday evening the first shooting-stars; but none had been remarked by any of the rest. At ten o’clock I jumped on Selim-Capitan’s vessel, who had invited me by dumb show whilst I was with Thibaut, during the dead calm. We sail with the north wind S.E., but the pleasure was soon at an end. Yet no! Selim-Capitan did me the favour of sailing _east by north_ with the north wind; but the oars, however, were obliged to be used to assist us, in order to prevent our running ashore. This manœuvre succeeded; and the others, who had reefed their sails, followed the example. It lasted, however, only a short time, for a strong S.E. wind getting up, threw us on the left shore of the reeds on the right hand.

Selim-Capitan shews far more energy and attention than I should have given him credit for, comprehends everything very quickly, and, with the exception of his Greco-Turkish faults, which I will touch upon afterwards, his character has been entirely mistaken. We reckon our number of miles from yesterday at noon till to-day at the same time, to be fifteen; and find, after the necessary reduction, that we have advanced only two miles in direct line towards S. The land retreats on all sides. From the deck I still discover the dark vigorous trees of yesterday, called by Mariàn Tihl, and otherwise named Shudder el Fill (elephant-tree), the large fruit of which is said to be welcome food to elephants. At noon we towed southwards—a very troublesome labour, for there are sloughs and gohrs on every side in the reeds, which the crew must swim through in order to get firmer ground for a short time. Even this presents many difficulties, owing to the reeds and their great unevenness. Nevertheless, the food of the crew is not so bad as in Khartùm, although for several days we have been in want of meat; thus they are not very much spoiled from their birth upwards. The N.E. wind, which was slack at mid-day, freshens at three o’clock; we sail E.S.E., and in five minutes again S.W by S., and make three miles. But already again we see the river going eastward, and we follow it, really S.E. and E.S.E., and then E. within a short time, for it makes eternal bends here, of two hundred paces, or less, in breadth.

Four o’clock.—To S.; ten minutes after, to W. We see towards the south, on the right shore, from aloft, a small land-lake, the white basin of which denotes some depth, and appears not to be fed by the main stream. We observe in the back ground, two villages, with dhellèbs and other trees, and in the distance other villages upon a bare whitish shore, skirted with some trees. The vessels coming after us reach to our right side, where the left shore ought to lie, a good gun-shot distance from the reeds—and, O illusion and fancy!—the old shore on the right, with its villages and trees, is _Sherk_ (_East_)—that is, the right shore of the river.—Five o’clock, from S.W. to S. We make only half a mile, whilst the current is not more rapid. At sunset we remark a number of birds, mostly long-shanks, moving in two divisions near one another from west to east, and perhaps repairing to the already more exposed sources of the Nile. Thermometer 17°, 25°—27°, and 22°, at the three different times of the day. The river three fathoms in depth.

_22nd December._—I remained last night on board Selim Capitan’s vessel. From S.E., which direction we reached yesterday evening, we now went with a faint north wind to east, and our course had one mile and a half in rapidity. At last I saw on the low ground in the south, a village, with a large tree, apparently a baobàb, and further on the old right shore, with palms and other trees; when,—at half-past eight o’clock,—no more was to be seen of the left shore. At half-past nine o’clock we went to the right shore to fetch wood. The crew landed under a suitable guard, with axes, for we remarked a village in the neighbourhood, and feared the old acquaintance of this people. There were, moreover, no regular trees to be seen here, but only stunted and decayed trunks, standing on or near the countless ant-hills. These serve the natives as watch-towers, as we had already seen, but no person appeared on them. The stumps were said to be torn and disfigured by the elephants; indeed we saw several deep impressions made by the feet of these colossi, for the river had flowed off from hence some time.

The wind has gone round to E., and is very favourable; whereupon we sail also at half-past ten o’clock from this place S.E. towards S., but soon draw to the E. and row; then sail to N.E., and assist with the oars. At noon, owing to the dead calm, we are towed in a south-easterly direction, and at three o’clock we make use slightly of our sails to S.W. by S., and soon afterwards S.E. by S. On the left shore, a long row of isolated trees is visible, also groups of trees themselves, among which, afar off, are distinguished dhellèb-palms. They mark, indeed, as usual, the real old shore, for they do not thrive in the morass, but frequently also they may denote, like other trees, the ephemeral margin of the river. The dhellèb-palms come nearer before us in a wide bend, which, however, may be only so in appearance. The reeds are already on dry ground, and a lower border of the same forms the momentary limits of the river. We remark also here on the right shore of the reeds, where we halt about five o’clock, in a southerly direction, several deep foot-prints of elephants, who have trod down and eaten away every thing, so that only single bushes of high rushes remain. Ant-hills, of eight to ten feet high, rise indeed around, but neither tree nor house—a real elephant pasture-ground.

I went on board Suliman Kashef’s ship, and found there my Feïzulla Capitan again, but in such a state of intoxication, that he fancied I was lost from his ship. He regretted me, and I played also this time again the “achùl el bennàt,” and carried him safely home. It is a wonder that his crew, who have worked themselves tired the whole day, and with whom he is always joking in his Turkish drunkenness, do not thoroughly lose their patience and respect.

_23rd December._—Instead of sailing at daybreak with the favourable wind, one vessel went after the other to the left shore, but we soon heard that the vessel of the commander, Selim Capitan, was full of water, having drawn so much during the night, that if the morning had not brought this circumstance to light, it would inevitably have sunk. Biscuit, durra, wheat, and all the other provisions were taken out, and dried on the sails spread on the shore. Sale made a capital shooting excursion, and is very proud of it: he requests his comrades not to shoot any more, for they only throw away powder. The birds are generally the very same as those we found in Taka. I shall return to this subject hereafter.

We could plainly remark near the numberless ant-hills, of eight to ten feet high, and thirty to thirty-six paces in circumference, by the difference of the same vegetation, how far the water has washed over these hills, and how inconsiderably it has reached up to the same, although the whole earth, in which there are many foot-prints, and marks of elephants, rose itself only two feet above the present surface of water. Even here, therefore, where a lake must always disclose itself when the water is at its greatest height, the ascent of the river is only slight, owing to its overflowing in an immeasurable space. In a more extended excursion, I lighted upon a low green plot of ground with water, and as I had remarked from the deck and mast-head, these verdant tracks are found again in the half-dug elephant-pasture. They may be old beds of the Nile, choked up by reeds and slime.

Wild cucumbers were very frequently met with here, and with their yellow flowers, often take the high rushes on the water into their friendly embrace. The under stratum of the ground is formed here also, as elsewhere, by blue clay, mixed with a little sand, whereon a covering of humus lies, the vegetable parts of which are visible in masses, less from their being decomposed by the atmosphere, than from being worked up by the feet of animals. Hygrometer, at eight o’clock, eighty degrees.

_24th December._—After everything had been dried and packed up again yesterday, we make, towards the evening, a very short track, in order to secure ourselves somewhat more from the gnats, which have, on the whole, decreased, and we cast anchor. Our clock, put at six at sunset, shewed also six o’clock, when the sun rose S.E. by E. The trombetta (drummers) beat a _reveillée_ at the first tinge of dawn; that is here an hour and a quarter before the sun; yet I could not read for the first half hour.

The whole sky has been clouded since we left the country of the Shilluks; and although they are not our heavy white clouds, the sun cannot penetrate through them. A mist, in appearance like a coast cut off from the horizon, surrounded us on all sides, without visibly extending itself in our neighbourhood. This layer of mist, however, was open from S. to S.W., where the river probably flows, with which the mist nearest to us melted away before daybreak, as I have so often remarked on the Rhine. The hazy streak of the rising sun is splendidly irradiated from E. to S., and therefore deludes us to believe that it is a broad luminous stream, or white lake, contrasted with the dark edge of the sky. I had remarked, the evening before last, a similar misty veil to the east, and, as I expected, there were light mists yesterday morning, before sunrise, on the river, and slowly floating down with it.

We went this morning E.S.E., and at seven o’clock S.W., without having got ahead, for the very feint north wind had not yet made up its mind. One of our vessels sails towards E. in the grass, and appears to have struck into another road, in order to cut us off. Isolated dhellèb-palms on the right shore, and towards N.E. a whole group of them; whilst on the left shore a great wood is visible, drawing into the land, as I hear, from the west. Before this forest shady Tihl-trees, with broad branches, in our neighbourhood; the right shore retreats again here, with its blooming ambak-thicket.

The lakes seem, in some measure, to be at an end; but the gigantic bed of the stream remains, although the old high shores are not, perhaps, to be discovered, for we cannot approach the real dry ground, as the river does not extend so far. This must, however, have been an extensive margin of the river, separated from it, between which, towards the sides, the water flows and ripples in small rivulets, like a meadow under water. It is said that there are no more doum-palms here, although I would take some trees in the distance for them, having, it is true, a stunted appearance compared with those in Taka, but similar to those commonly found on the White River.

Half-past eight o’clock. To S.E. by S.; then an easterly direction, with the usual deviations, and at last S. From the mast is seen, near the before-named shady elephant-trees, a whole herd of these lovers of their fruit,—the white birds on their massive backs, whom they are trying to drive away with their trunks.

About ten o’clock S.E. by E. and S.E. I think I see on the right shore, a small river, discharging itself in the reeds, for the colour in the little basin is different from that of our water. Immediately afterwards, a small village, composed of low, wretched tokuls. A dog looked at us, but did not bark, much as he was teased; he was a large-boned greyhound, such as are seen generally in Taka and Sennaar. This fishermen’s village stands some three feet above the water, and we see by the fresh repairing of the huts with Nile slime, that the river must have washed against this place. Four sails go on the right, at a regular distance W., in the reeds, whilst the vessels sailing a-head in S.E., also look over the reeds, and move towards the E. The ambak-wood continues almost uninterruptedly on our left. About eleven o’clock, from S.W., is an extensive bend to the E., and afterwards to N.E., as it appears from the other vessels. On the right stands an enclosed dhellèb-palm, quite solitary in the wide green lake; and yet it delights the eye as a resting-point, like the sails far and near.

From the undulating eastern direction, swerving to the N.E., where the towing-path is now made through the reeds, we wheel, according to the dear old custom, towards S., in which direction we halt at noon on the right shore, to wait for the other vessels. The north-wind having become stronger since half-past eight o’clock, promises to be favourable for the two windings we see before us. We see over those vessels, towards S.E., clouds of smoke arise in the forest, about half an hour distant, as we did yesterday and the day before. Over the green-flat, to the E., from which bushes of high rushes and ant-hills rise, several dhellèb-palms.

At three o’clock we set sail towards W.S.W., yet soon again S.S.W., and at four o’clock S.E. by S.

One mile rapidity. Five o’clock. To W. On the right thirteen tokuls, which, like the four on the opposite side, near our landing-place, are partly new, partly restored, for the high-water rises above these new shores. There are neither human beings nor anything else living to be seen near the poor, badly built huts. The river navigated by us has here a breadth of some four hundred paces. To the N. we at last observed the vessels which had remained behind, and from yonder the Haba shews itself, with groups of trees jutting out in a circle to some distance; in N.W. smoke ascends in different places: as on the left, to the E., in the far distance over the trees, although no villages can be seen even from the mast.

These pillars of smoke are considered by the crew not as aerial angels of peace and friendship, but rather as a general signal against us. It seems more probable to me, however, judging from analogy with the people, dwelling in Taka, that this kindling of high grasses and pines is done by the tribes of the place to free their territory from insects, snakes, and other noxious animals, or to give air and nourishment to the sprouting grass, in order to make it fit for pasture. In these forest-burnings we must seek for the cause of the bad and stunted condition of the wood.

I thought that the river made a bend to the S., because I saw water there; but they tell me from the mast, that this water is a broad gohr, or Birke, (land-lake). It shews itself a gun-shot distance from the river, and quite parallel to it from E. to W., and is, at this moment, only divided from it by the reeds under water, and an ambak-thicket. A water-course meandered through the rushes to the eastern end of the lake. The crew affirmed that the lake receives its water from the river by this road (sikka): this, indeed, is not _impossible_, but it is _improbable_, for the river must propel its current against the water from W. to E. I believe rather that the lake feeds itself from S.W., where incisions are remarked in the reeds, and behind, a long and broad marsh-land. The lake and the river have now an equal level, and there is neither an influx nor outflux to be seen in the so-called little water-road. If it be not an outlet of the lake, discharging its higher surface of water through the reeds, it is a road for crocodiles and river-buffaloes. The broken rushes and the scattered borders of the lower vegetation, &c. make me believe the latter supposition. I have also remarked, at this moment, a large hippopotamus wallowing about there.

There can scarcely be a doubt that this waterpath serves the fishing-boats as a channel. The lake is from E. to W. about an hour long. There may be numbers of such collective lakes and tributaries which the reeds hide from us; for these waters, when the Nile is _at its height_, do not rush into it, and cannot force a road through the luxuriant and strongly articulated world of plants. These plants perhaps allow a conjunction of water; but no open tributary stream for the rise and fall of the waters takes place at the same time. Fadl tells me that the lake is only twice as broad as the Nile, which is here three hundred paces; and the head of the lake is said to draw towards the south, thereby shewing itself to be an old bed of the river.

No large fish are found here; for if there were any we must have heard them at times in the evening splashing up; that is, supposing they were very abundant in these lakes. However, in the land of the Shilluks several fish of uncommon size, such as are seen in the markets at Kàhira and Khartùm, floated towards us, dead. The crew eat them, although they stank. Standing at the helm, above the cabin, I noticed, before sun-set, seven elephants, with two young ones, feeding on the right in the reed-grass, and, for this once, unmolested by their feathered friends. We halt on account of the faint breeze, towards the west, in order to wait for the vessels, the sun going down before us and throwing all its charms on the limitless watery expanse. Throughout the whole day it had never shone through those misty veils, which appeared so lightly floating.

Feïzulla Capitan has found a new consolation, by establishing a small brandy distillery. For this purpose he used dates, a great quantity of which fruit we carried with us. One burma forms the boiler, and another, with a reed in it, the head of the still. As, however, he only once draws off this araki, there remain too many lees in it to be pleasant; but this does not offend the taste and smell of the bold captain. The thermometer before sunrise 19°, from noon to afternoon 25-26°; after sunset 24°. The hygrometer had fallen from 80° to 30°.