CHAPTER X.

SHEIKH DIM. — CLUBS OF THE KEKS AND CAPS SIMILAR TO THOSE OF THE ANCIENT EGYPTIAN PRIESTS. — RAPACITY OF THE CREW. — TRIBUTARY LAKES. — HEIGHT OF THE SHORES. — THE TRIBE OF THE BUNDURIÀLS. — DUSHÒÏL, THE KEK, ON BOARD SELÌM CAPITAN’S VESSEL. — HIS SIMPLICITY. — TOBACCO PLANTATIONS. — THE GREAT SHEIKH OF THE BUNDURIÀLS. — FISHING IMPLEMENTS OF THIS TRIBE. — THEIR TOKULS, AND GIGANTIC SIZE OF THE MEN. — ANTELOPES OF THE ARIEL SPECIES. — APATHY OF THE CREW, AND INDIFFERENCE AT THE LOSS OF THEIR COMPANIONS. — PHILOSOPHY OF A NATIVE. — SINGULAR CONTRAST BETWEEN THE FEATURES OF THE SHEIKHS AND THE OTHER NEGROES. — NATION OF THE BOHRS. — THIBAUT’S BARTER. — REED-STRAW ON FIRE, AND DANGER TO THE VESSELS. — FATALISM OF THE TURKS. — GREETING OF THE NATIVES: THEIR SONG OF WELCOME.

5th January.—At sunrise we sail E.S.E., and see immediately, on the right shore, a herdsman’s, or man’s village, to which a woman’s village, with thirty-three regular tokuls, joins, and where I saw seven sürtuks lying behind the houses. We wait again for cattle above the village, and I remark among the crowd of people our dear and faithful sheikh of Dim, or Dièm, who seems to wish to accompany us through his kingdom: he is very easily recognised among the ash-coloured men, even from a distance, by his red shirt. Not to offend the good people, we went ashore again. The majority of the Keks still wear their ivory rings round the upper part of the left arm, and likewise have only one hole in their ear. They made their appearance here without weapons; but brought, however, clubs of ebony, decreasing in thickness towards the top and bottom, fluted, and about two inches thick in the middle. In order to grasp them more firmly, there was not only a thong of leather for the grip, but also a ring of skin, or of the inside bark of a tree, woven around the handle. I saw here a pair of felt caps, rising to the top in the form of a bomb, and thick enough to ward off a blow from a club. This is the second time that I have seen a covering for the head exactly similar to the cap of the ancient Egyptian priests. These children of men have, however, a dreadful and truly horrible appearance, for the face, through the black patches of perspiration and the white crust of ashes, is like black-veined marble; although the form of the body, generally six feet high, and even of the head, notwithstanding the mouth projects a little among the generality of them, is not at all amiss; yet, perhaps, on the whole, it may be a little clownish.

At eight o’clock we advance with libàhn farther to E.; then the Nile winds to the right, and we are, at nine o’clock, S.E. Here we see on the right shore a gohr, that may be compared to a large millbrook. The negroes seem to consider this gohr as a boundary where they can see us once more and wish us farewell. Yet there is only one who lays his hands crossways on his shoulders, bends his body forward, and lets it fall upon his knees. This truly has a very humble appearance, and may be an Ethiopian bow. We have already lost the charm of novelty in the eyes of the people: they see that we eat and drink like themselves, and, by the bye, rob and steal; that everything suits us which is of great value amongst them, and that they must content themselves with a few beads when once the booty is in Turkish or Arabian hands. If we consider this nation, we start the question, how is it possible that it could have remained from eternity in this primitive grade of civilisation? From what mountains have they descended? The surface of the earth here is scarcely even now capable of receiving and supporting colonies of such a nature; perhaps their earlier settlements were beyond the old shores in the Gallas and Habas.

Whilst we come slowly up the river, the negroes remain standing right and left on the shore; they do not sing and jump, and we remark no astonishment in their faces. The next question which they put to themselves may perhaps be, “What do these strangers want here? What can they wish but our riches?” Let us ask the first best Turk or Arab what are we doing here? He knows not; he does not comprehend the aim of such an expedition, where there is no robbery, no plunder, no kidnapping. Turks do not think that any colonisation is possible, for their own country is already too extensive for them, and will remain so, indeed, till a perfect regeneration of it by conquering nations. Immeasurable tracts of land lie here vacant and uncultivated; but only the negro, baked as he is, can stand the heat of the sun. _He_ must, however, sacrifice to the climate the greatest number of his teeth; this alone shews the diseases peculiar to the marsh regions.

It is surprising that I nowhere see any elephants’ tusks, though said to be so common here. About half past ten o’clock, S.S.E. On the right a lake, running tolerably even with the river, narrow at its southern point, more than an hour long, and three-quarters of an hour broad. The Haba, with its videttes of old shores behind, draws nearer before us. The right shore is a vast semicircle, circumscribed by isolated trees, with many green grass-plats, pools, ambaks, and a kind of acacia, with yellow clusters of flowers, like the gold-rain of the laburnum. To judge from the many pools, the river does not appear yet to have receded entirely, although the nearest shore-land is already burnt away, right and left. We sail half an hour, but the northern wind is too faint, and we come to its assistance by towing. The stream is about five hundred paces broad, and does not seem here to receive any tributaries.

A number of birds of prey pursue our vessels, in order, by a bold attack, to seize the meat strung on lines. We know, even at a distance, when a village is deserted, because it is immediately taken possession of by these legions of the air, and rummaged in all corners, in a very impudent manner. The natives on both shores have here directly at hand another free and worthy position. _A long village_, on the right shore, was by way of a joke called Dennap (tail). The first group consisted of thirty-five tokuls, on elevated ground; we only saw there old women and two old men. Our sailors, who were towing, immediately shot at the vultures whirling round over us through the village—forced open the doors of the huts, made of reeds or animal skins, and stole the hides lying there for beds, and whatever else was near. My loud abuse and threats brought them, however, into something like reason. This tokul group was followed by a double and threefold row of tokuls, about one hundred and twenty in number, on the high border of the river; therefore it had the appearance of an artificial dam, but may perhaps have been elevated gradually by the rudera of the tokuls themselves. A herdsman’s village joined on to the tokuls, numbering only thirty-one huts, and some square sheds, the flat reed-roofs of which were covered with earth and ashes. Negroes sat under them to be protected from the sun, and allowed us quietly to draw near, without making “Fantasie,” as our men wished. We stop near the village till three o’clock: its inhabitants appear mostly to have fled. We then advance for a time libàhn, and halt again, without any object.

At five o’clock we again advance to the south, for the natives do not shew themselves. On the left we notice one, and on the right two, lakes. We see, from the mast, at the distance of a quarter of an hour, a lake of an hour long, and half of that in breadth; and some hundred paces at the side of the left shore, a lake, not broad, but, judging from the green grass, about two hours’ long. Behind, towards the west, another lake shews itself, on the margin of which the Haba recedes about an hour and a half; and behind us also, on the left shore, a third lake to N.W. In front, towards S.S.W., a lake, behind which another, in S.S.W., in the obtuse angle formed by the river there to the right shore; therefore, at one glance we observed _five lakes_ on the left shore, joining, very certainly, at high-water, and taking up an enormous space. There is no tree to be seen on the left to announce the far-distant right shore; yet a margin of wood shews itself in the distance on the left from E.S.E. to W. The air appears to be clearer, for I see the smoke, in many places, ascending straight up. At sunset we have the lake at our side, which lies, at five o’clock, S.S.W. of us, and behind it another strip of water flashes up in the south. From S. we go again in a semicircle to E. and N.E., and immediately again southward. We sail, indeed, since five o’clock, but have made, deducting the water-course, which has gradually got up again to a mile in rapidity, scarcely half a mile in the hour. At seven o’clock, E.N.E., and at eight o’clock S. by E., and soon afterwards from W.S.W. to S. and S.E. to E., from E. to S.W., E.S.E., and N.E., sometimes with the sails, sometimes libàhn, equally quick, for the north wind is very slack. In the level extensive arch, S. by W. to S.S.W., at last we halt at the corner, where the river winds to N.E. A large lake twinkles here on the left shore. The river retains, generally, a breadth of about five hundred paces; its depth is here two fathoms and a half. This seldom amounts to more than three, and was to-day, in one part, only two fathoms.

Nevertheless, the river always contains a large quantity of water, for the shores, precipitous and deep, nearly fall away in a right angle. It is surprising that we have not yet found a flint, or any other stone, in the Nile sand. The Mountains of the Moon must therefore be still far distant from us. The thermometer, at sunrise, 20°, at ten o’clock 26°, at twelve o’clock 27°, and rose till three o’clock to 29°. After sunset, 26°, a heat too great for me, as I was not well; although I had borne, at Khartùm, on the shores of the Blue river, a heat of 42° to 45° throughout the hot days; and was subsequently to endure, in the city of Sennaar, for three days, at three o’clock in the afternoon, 48° Reaumur.

_6th January._—The Haba goes to the east, under the horizon, in the position in which we cast anchor this morning to S.S.W. It seems, therefore, that we shall approach again the firm line of the left old shore, by surprising windings; for the right has been unfaithful. Nothing is to be seen of it except the high bed of the primitive river, or a valley watered by the stream, partly laid on dry ground, over which the Nile flows, from time to time, with its waves, or rolls here and there into it at its pleasure. We proceed with libàhn around the corner mentioned, to N.N.E., but, after a short time, with a sharp wind, to E.S.E., where the river is remarkably contracted. An hour from the left shore is a large lake, wherein are fishermen; close to us a large fish-pond. The stream has, by the choking up and alteration of its bed, left behind numberless such fish-ponds, in a greater or smaller degree. The Icthyophagi only need for the in and out letting of the Nile water, to keep open the canals connected with the stream, so as to have continually an abundance of fish. From E.S.E. we go in a shallow bend again to S.E., where we spread sails.

Now, at eight o’clock, again in this circle, to S.W. by W., and we came in this manner closer to the old wood, as I had previously conjectured. The river appears really by this means to wish to keep more to the left old shore; for even the right side of the reeds is here generally higher than the left. It is clear, and the evidence of the eye-sight teaches us, that the shores, in almost all places where old or choked-up water-courses do not run into the land, are remarkably higher than the surface of the earth immediately behind, as is plainly perceived in the stream territory of the _United Nile_, which has been cultivated for thousands of years. The latter especially struck me when, on my return to Egypt, I met with newly dug canals, which were yet without bridges, and their banks so sloping, that I was often obliged to ride up towards the mountains or along their channel. The bed of the canal was always lower up the country, although it lay on an equal line with the mouth of the Nile. This rise in the bed of the stream exactly explains here, as well as in Egypt, the inundations. They form then, in connection with the tropical rains, numberless sloughs, ponds, and lakes, which must collect and completely evaporate in these long basins, were they not artificially diverted by the natives for the purpose of fishing, through incisions in the shore-dams, when the Nile falls.

Half-past eight o’clock. From S.W. by W. we go in the circle on to S., E., N. to N.W. by W., where we lay-to at ten o’clock. It only wanted 85° of a perfect circle. From this gyration, forwarding but little our journey, we go in a bend to N., and then to E. A gentle north wind sets in, called even by the crew, Hauer badlàhn (faint wind). My good countryman, who ought to refresh me again, is really extremely weak, and deserts us entirely in a quarter of an hour. Suddenly the wind blows against us from the south; and it would be an evil thing for our voyage if south winds should now set in, although we must not expect constancy in the winds in these equatorial regions of Central Africa, judging from our present experience of them. Eleven o’clock, to S.E.; twelve o’clock, S.S.E. A city with several tokuls seems to obstruct our road, and, as it were, to invite us.

We stopped, therefore, in a south-easterly direction before three o’clock, near the well-built village, which, at a distance, appears larger than it is; it numbers thirty-five tokuls, and is named Papio, and is the first village of a tribe calling themselves Bunduriàls. The name of the sheikh who came to meet us at the shore is Wadshia-Koï. On the right shore, up the country, the Tutui are said to dwell, but no huts are to be seen there. These Bunduriàls speak the language of the Keks,—a dialect closely allied to that of the Dinkas. In their powerful form of body they are also similar to the Dinkas, only better built; and their women smaller than the giant forms of the Dinka women, with their angular shoulders. Almost all the people here had a white feather in the black hair-bonnet on their heads. The latitude is, according to Selim Capitan, 5° 11′.

The river, which for some days has decreased in depth, amounts to two fathoms and a half, near the village of Papio, and, as I ascertained myself, to only two higher up. This is truly a considerable difference compared with the lower course of the river, but there always remains still a large mass of water in the breadth of two hundred to three hundred paces, near the precipitous falling-away shores. The rapidity of the river remains, on an average, one mile, yet less where the water is deeper. I have been since noon with Suliman Kashef and Feïzulla, on board Selim Capitan’s vessel. The latter has continually a sailor on the mast, and has counted eight lakes from yesterday noon till to-day. At half-past five o’clock libàhn to S.S.E., where a small lake is perceived on the left shore. A little after sun-set we halt for a moment, because the men are nearly worked to death with towing in the reeds, which are twice the height of a man. The thermometer, shewing before sun-rise 24°, and at noon 28°, had got up at three o’clock to 32°, and fell at sun-set to 30°. We went very slowly with a gentle north wind to S. by W., to N.E., and then right round to S.S.W. Selim Capitan is really very attentive at his post, although his momentary activity arises partly from our presence. I praise him, by way of encouragement, to induce him to go on as far as we can. About half-past six o’clock, we sailed with the wind blowing fresh S.S.W., and had three miles’ course, in a wide bend to S.E., till eight o’clock, and at half-past eight S.W., where a small island lay on our right; then a short tract S.E., and lastly E.

Selim-Capitan has a native on board, who is of the race of the Keks, and whose home was at Bakàk, near the village of Dim. His name is Dushóïl; he is a jolly old dog, with a half-blind eye. He journeyed with the expedition last year, and seems to have a natural talent for languages, for he managed to make himself understood generally with our blacks. I am able, therefore, to learn something from him. He calls the Nile “Kir,” and not Kiati, or Kiti; but I cannot vouch for it that I have rightly caught his pronunciation, incredible as this may appear. Water to drink, is “Piju;” good, “affiàt,” and “abàt;” bad, “arrashd,” or “arràdsh” (spoken with a humming sound); nothing, “liju;” to eat, “tshiàn;” mountain, “kur;” come, “Bà;” Hallo, men, “Ajajà!” His countrymen do not appear to be idol worshippers, and recognize a great God, who dwells much higher, or is like the mast of the ship, which he always pointed at to express His grandeur.

The name of the great Mek of the Keks is Kajòk: he does not know where he dwells, or perhaps may not wish to say, as well as many other things on which he was asked. It is probable that I was right in my former assertion, that their king is called Ajol, and his village Gòg, for he may connect both words in his indistinct language. He treats his own name also in a similar manner, by appending the word Dim, and then calls himself Dsholi-Dim. The Keks, as also the Bunduriàls, take the iron for their spears and arrows from the region of Arol, the mountain of which lies towards the west, and cannot be seen here, owing to the trees. Another tribe dwells there. From this place they fetch their copper for the few earrings that they wear, and upon which they do not seem to lay any particular value. I was glad that I was at his elbow for some time, although the coarse jokes of the Turks, in which even Selim-Capitan’s servants took part, annoyed me. He is a good fellow, and is obliged now to do at Rome as the Romans do. He could not pronounce C in the alphabet, but always said T, and swelled the tone at every repetition, without being able to come nearer to the pronunciation. He sang, screamed, and danced just as one wished: meat dried in the sun was given him; but he soon said, laughing, “Arrádsh,” because it agreed with his teeth as little as the dry biscuit did. A pipe was brought him to smoke, but the crew had filled it at the bottom with powder, which exploded; on account of this, he would not smoke any more, and was afraid even of a lantern, when one was brought close to him. Soon afterwards, he took the ashes from all the pipes, and put them in his mouth with the burnt tobacco. Hereupon I gave him some tobacco in his hand, which he kneaded together into a quid, and took in his mouth. A roasted leg of mutton was afterwards handed to him, and the cat immediately approached. He fairly divided it with her, and took great pleasure in this animal, because it could climb up the ropes. Then he was a long time enticing two young goats, by whistling, and calling “Suk-suk-suk,”—nature’s sounds, even used by us—and played with them as if they were his children. One of his principal songs began with “Abandejo,” and he managed to imitate the chorus, “Wai, wai, Abandejo,” &c.

Suliman Kashef had played some coarse Turkish jokes on him; he was offended for a moment, but he soon slid on his knees to him, in order that the latter might spit on the back and palm of his hands. He played the buffoon, because he had been once mad. Some time since, they hung beads round him, and put on him a shirt reaching to his stomach, and he had so raved about with joy, that he became at last sleepy, went into the cabin, and lay down upon Selim Capitan’s bed; but he was soon hunted out of that, and they made a bed for him under a cannon, to keep him safe from the further bantering of the crew. He is a commoner of nature, and so they all appear to me to be, but far from being savages,—and less barbarous, indeed, than many Europeans, who are clothed from head to foot. He was very much delighted with an Arabic song; I could see it by his face; now he comes nearer with more confidence, claps his hands, and shouts “Abàt,” or bravo! He wanted to learn it, and caught the tune rightly; but they laughed at him, and he became quiet again. Selim Capitan and I tried to imitate the idiom of his language; he thought he really understood something every now and then, and wanted even to correct us.

I saw, the day before yesterday, and previously, some tobacco plantations close by every tokul. I looked for this plant in vain to day at the two villages; perhaps it was already gathered. At nine o’clock, on the right, the village of Angort, or rather _Awargot_; which, as usual, was divided into a male (or herdsmen’s) and female village. Ten o’clock to the south; before the left shore an island,—course three miles and a half. At eleven o’clock S.S.W., we approach Arnaud’s vessel; he is on the point of furling sails, notwithstanding the favourable east wind. Selim Capitan habitually of a somewhat timorous nature, inquired of him whether he wishes to anchor here; without understanding his answer, he was also about to follow his example and halt, when I asked him whether he was commander or not. We sail on, therefore, and Arnaud is obliged, _nolens volens_, to follow. A little after midnight we cast anchor near the village of Aujan, and stood to the South.

_7th January._—In the morning we landed on the left shore, where the great sheikh of the Bunduriàl nation presented himself as an old friend, being already known by the preceding expedition. He was of colossal figure, above six feet high, had a handsome aquiline nose, and a truly expressive physiognomy: about thirty years of age; naked, according to the custom of his ancestors. He was only distinguished from the others by wearing unusually large ivory rings on the upper part of the arm. His name is Biur. A red shirt and coral beads having been presented to him, he went away to procure meat, and to send messengers up the river to prepare a favourable reception for us. Behind this village of Aujan a large lake extends from N.N.W. to S.W., and a serpentine canal, some thirty feet in width, before the village, pours into it. Several people were moving on this long lake to catch fish: their implements were fish-baskets, of a whole, or half form, or mere wicker-baskets, which they dipped into the lake and quickly drew up again.

To judge from the ground inclining gently, as if in a flat dish, and from those trees, forming the arch from N.N.W. to S.W., being the forerunners of a thicker Haba, a very large lake must be filled here at high water. The greatest part of the water is afterwards let off, for the sake of fishing, through the before-named canal. An immeasurable quantity of water, generally, is collected in the low lands, according to all the appearances which I myself have found of such ponds in my short excursions into the neighbourhood. These always exercise a lasting effect on the lower height of the water of the White Stream, by their nearly simultaneous draining off, whilst they contribute mostly during the inundation to the sudden swelling of the White Stream by their connection with it. The tokuls of this village, which is called Auan or Auwan, are not badly built, but have low walls; the point of the roof also is not high. The lower wall, being of reeds, and plastered with Nile slime, is only three and a half or four feet high. The door is square here instead of the usual oval form; it is constructed of reeds, and before it are two stakes fixed in the ground, supporting a cross stake. Almost all the tokuls have a little porch before this door, which is covered by the roof being extended over it. The outer door is therefore lower than the inner one, and the inmates are compelled to crawl into the house. Generally, on the White Nile, it is necessary to stoop very much to enter the tokuls. The roof is indented according to the length of the straw bound up in hoops, and to the height of the roof itself; it has from five to eight separations. The point of the roof is covered, as I before remarked, by a gourd-shell, opening at the top and bottom, and forms a broad ring, in which the slender beams join.

Part of the people sat or stood there; only a few collected round our vessels. Many of them carried a long reed, instead of the spear, in their hands. They would not allow themselves to be measured, and continued to avoid me. I gave my servants three reeds of six, six and a half, and seven feet long, to stand near the natives, and by this means I ascertained their height. The average amounted to from six to seven Rhenish feet.[8] We ourselves were like pigmies among these giants. I might stretch myself to the utmost, but I could not come up to these men, though of the _considerable_ height of five feet, two inches, four lines. The village numbers only twenty-eight to thirty tokuls, and lies along the shore to S.S.E. We sail away at eight o’clock, and in five minutes find a herdsmen’s village on our right side, and immediately afterwards another, near which the river winds to E., and we advance with libàhn. It is a large pastoral village, and appears to belong, with the preceding ones, to Aujan. The few tokuls of Aujan must serve the herdsmen, in the rainy season, as a place of refuge, for they lie tolerably high.

This morning, early, there were clouds in the sky, as is now generally the case; but still it is very warm, and we had, shortly before sunrise, 22° Reaumur. When I consider the endless labyrinths of the White Stream, and the eternal slackening of the winds, I fear that we shall never arrive at the sources of the White Nile. The stream is, as it were, without a border in the rainy season, and towing then is an impossibility, even if the south winds connected with it should not be violently against us. Yet I cannot resist the thought that it is not only possible to discover the sources, but also to scale the mountains lying to the south, of which all these tribes speak, and to pass over in some other stream territory to the Western Ocean. These thoughts occupy my mind when I sit at night before the cabin, and indulge in the reflection of such a bold undertaking, and one that would not be depreciated by the scientific world. My men are enraptured at such a proposal; but dare I confide in their courage? Yes, for if I did not, I should have turned them off long ago.

We remarked a group of trees at a long village situated on the left side of the river, containing sixty-five to seventy tokuls; and near it we go further east, the Haba before us, receding in S.S.W. I look at the village closer, and find that the very diminutive huts near the large tokuls, are not, as our men thought, for the children, but for the young cattle, and that this village has many straw or reed huts behind it for the pastoral men. Every thing is burnt down at our right hand, and only on the left is the border of the Nile still festooned by reeds and creepers; it is here not above three feet high. The enormous plain, in which is distinguished, from the mast, three lakes at the last point of the Haba to S.S.W., stood, therefore, entirely under water, although we perceive now numerous cattle and a large summer village in the centre. On the left also we see, from the mast, a lake and a village, about half an hour from the right shore. The large half-moon on the right has still green spots on every side, defying the fire with their pools. The land (if I may use this expression to distinguish it from the plain subject to the inundation, the secondary shores of which have become secure by the stream having fallen very much) is about three hours’ distant. The before-mentioned group of trees stands isolated behind the left shore; the latter is somewhat elevated; yet the old shore, said to approach before us again, recedes far into the above-named higher tract of land.

Ten o’clock. We have mastered the bend to S.W. by W., and sail now with north wind to S. A sand-bank forms the point of this bend. Yesterday afternoon, and previously, it occurred to me that here also the right side of the river, in an easterly direction, is nearly always marked by higher shores; but to-day this was very apparent, for the difference amounts to four feet. This is more evident because the reeds and grass are burnt away. Behind the above-mentioned group of trees, near which we perceive a number of overgrown ant-hills, I saw again the blue trees of the right shore, like the friendly appearance of old acquaintances. For a long time nothing has emerged on that side except from the elevated point of view on the mast. It depends upon the changeable humour of the river whether they come nearer to us or not. Between the dark blue margin of this wood we perceive a long glimmering water-tract. Some ten minutes’ later to S.E., at our right hand, a herdsmen’s village. Again, on the right, round to the S., up to W. In the interior of the country three villages, an hour long; but at a distance between the Haba, which appears to be very thick and woody, water is still visible, possibly in connection with the lake. This is at half-past ten o’clock; four miles. At eleven o’clock S.E.; on the right a pastoral village, on the left another. The north wind has veered, and we go, about twelve o’clock, libàhn, in E.S.E. The wind changes about two o’clock to our advantage: we sail from E.S.E. to S. and W.S.W.

At three o’clock we halt in S.E. by S. At half-past three o’clock we go S.S.E. A tokul city of one hundred and five dwellings is on the left, upon an island of two hours and a half long, commencing already when we were in S. On the left shore a lake about three hours long extends to the distant Haba, connected with the river by a narrow canal. Somewhat more behind we see two more lakes, and at a little distance on the right another city. On the left shore and the lake some tokuls, with flat arched roofs and round doors. E. and E. by S., towards S.E., is a village of thirty tokuls, some paces from the shore, by it a lake, and behind this the other lake, which I stated to be a water-tract, still continues.

We go quickly, with four miles’ course in S.W. by W., but also round a corner to E. We halt at half past five o’clock to N.N.E., where, on the right, there is a lake with a village. The before-named lake, of about three hours long, on the left shore, extends still far with the river, like a deserted bed of the stream, as we saw by the green strips, and the numbers of white and light coloured birds, that had encamped on its margin. If we consider somewhat more accurately, as I have already remarked, the main direction of these lakes, so far as the prospect from the vessel allows, we find that they always form chords, diameters, and tangents of the elliptical and circular windings of the present stream. On the right and left, a number of elephants are quite close to the shore, without being disturbed by us, and even the many light-brown antelopes remain quietly standing, and gaze at us. They are of the ariel species, of which also there are many in Taka; their flesh is very savoury.

We have done with sailing, and take refuge again in towing. The above-named intersections of the curves formed by the river are seen plainly on both sides. I had already thought that Suliman Kashef could not withstand the sight of the ariels. We stop on the right, at the shore just where the river winds from N.E. to N. The extreme edge of the shore is broken off precipitately to a height of five feet, as also on the right side of the river. The antelopes retreated as soon as the noise of the vessels reached the shore. The reeds are by no means to be trusted, because large beasts of prey are in the habit of taking up their position there, in order to rush upon the antelopes as their certain prize, when the deer go to water at sunset. A few soldiers, therefore, were sent forward for our protection.

On our return from the chase, during which not a shot was fired, we lost two bàltashi (carpenters or sappers) in the reeds, without our being able to recall them, though signal-shots were fired. They were Egyptians, steady men, and therefore we could not at all suppose that they had deserted. Notwithstanding this, the crew only looked for these men in the neighbourhood, shrugged their shoulders, and supposed that the assad or nimr (lion or tiger) had eaten them. The word _nimr_ cannot, properly speaking, mean tiger here, for there are no tigers, as is well known, in Africa; but it is the general expression for panthers and leopards, as _fagged_ for the lynx. At eight o’clock we sail on again to S.E., and make four miles. The river is here again about 400 paces broad. At nine o’clock, when we go S., we leave a small island at our left; the wind slackens in half an hour, but brings us S. by E. to a village, near which we cast anchor in the middle of the river.

_8th January._—The vessels stand S.E., and this is the first time, for a considerable period, that _one_ direction has held on so long. Long before sun-rise, the natives sing in honour of us their “Teabing.” The village only consists of some forty sleeping-places; each one holds several men, but the herds of cattle tethered there are exceeding numerous. The natives drive oxen near us, and are in such haste to bring them to the vessels that we can scarcely keep them off; they remain standing with the beasts, quite out of humour, point to them, and make supplicating gestures that we would condescend to receive the offerings. We have, however, become proud, for our Saturnian stomachs have had, at last, enough meat. The natives are of unusual size, and the troop standing above the pastoral village near the bee-hives, overtop their habitations by a foot.

The north-east wind is too faint; therefore again the cry is “Churr el libàhn.” From the mast:—back on the right, towards W., a large lake and a village; another at the side towards S.W., of half an hour in length, with a herdsman’s village. Behind this the Haba draws round in a bend. The wood is about one hour and a half distant, beyond the right side of the shore; but no lake is to be seen there, because there are not any angles cut off at this side. So likewise Fadl does not see a village, although yonder is the country of the Bohrs, who are said to dwell more inland; at all events, there must be water there. My Sale Mohammed, who, being my cook, wanted to procure me some roasted venison, has, against my will, gone too far from the shore, and not observed that we have changed the towing-path, and gone to the left shore. I am very angry with him, for one so easily gets in a passion in these countries. On calmer reflection, I see that I ought to have more care for his life, and that he who ventures his life for me does not deserve blows.

Eight o’clock, S.W. by S. We halt at nine o’clock, S.S.E. on the left shore, in order to wait for ivory. I sent Suliman Kashef’s sürtuk to the other side, to fetch Sale at this opportunity. The hygrometer 54°. A number of people are collecting around, and ready to give us all that they possess. The men, though _only_ seven feet high, look like trees, in their rough and naked natural forms. Their tonsure is various; large ivory rings adorn the upper part of their arms. They would like to strip these off, but they sit too tightly, because they were placed on the arm before it was thoroughly formed. Now the flesh protrudes above and below the rings. A large man, appearing to be a little crased, or, perhaps, chief jester, wears an iron ring with flat bells on his left foot, and carries an unusually long spear, the shaft of which, being of a spiral form, is surrounded from the top to the bottom with narrow iron hoops. It must be interesting to understand his witticisms, for the others listened to him very attentively, and are extraordinarily delighted. He prefers his protecting spear to my beads; and it almost seems to me that these great children laugh at his philosophy as being stupidity.

The few spears we see here are of very different kinds; therefore, either imported or captured, in their contests, in the mutual hurling of spears. The greatest number, however, are pikes, tapering to a conical point. I only see the latter in the hands of the less skilful negroes. They seat themselves on the shore, sing, and beg for beads, pointing with their forefinger and thumb to the roundness of them. They have bad teeth, almost without exception; from this circumstance, perhaps, that they chew and smoke tobacco, partly to alleviate the eternal tooth-ache. If they did not complain of tooth-ache, yet they shewed us the entire want or decay of their teeth, when we gave them biscuit to masticate. Their chief or sheikh had, like the great sheikh of the Bunduriàls, an aquiline nose, and nobler features than the others: this I have remarked generally. The black colour alone induces us to suppose that they are of the negro race; though their features are generally not of that cast. Most Europeans, if they were painted as black, would be like them.

In observing the difference of these negroes among themselves, of whom the question can hardly be of a higher or lower grade of civilisation, and the features by that means distinctly impressed, we are involuntarily led to the idea that the families of these chiefs were either immigrating and conquering races, or the remains of the aborigines; and that, having diminished to solitary families, they have preserved among themselves their peculiar type, which is similar to that of the Caucasian race.

In a shooting excursion, I found it here also confirmed that the surface of the earth is lower behind the shores than the shore itself. This is especially seen by the vessels, which disappear even to half the mast at a little distance behind the shore. Nevertheless the ground was elevated again in the distance like the rim of a basin, whereon we remarked trees, evidently denoting an earlier shore. Water stood here and there, around which numerous marsh-birds had collected. I could not, however, get within shot of them, owing to the swampy nature of the soil.

Shortly before noon we continued our voyage with the rope, but the strong south-east wind worked so much against us that we advanced little or nothing. Besides, the crew do not seem to wish to run in perspiration and scalding heat, for to-day is Friday, and therefore the Turkish Sunday.

At twelve o’clock, a large herdsmen’s village on the right shore, with black giants, to whom the ant-hills serve as watch-towers, and where they look even taller, being contrasted with the horizon. This is the nation of the Bohrs. Here and there are seen men waiting on the shore, holding cattle by a rope, to sell them for beads.

The ox is said to be sacred amongst them. They may perhaps love and prize their cattle, to which they have but little else preferable, and may prefer the bull as the founder of the family, but that is all. After half an hour, where the river winds from S.E. to E. and N.E., is on the right a pastoral village. The nation of the Banduriàls stands here collected with a present of cows, but it was not accepted by us. From N.E. round a sand corner on the right, to S.S.W.

Here the meat-eaters, who will not be contented till they catch some disorder, cannot resist the temptation to receive some cattle. As in some parts of Belled Sudàn, copper wire is used for the decoration of spears, I had brought some with me rolled on a stick, and here and there cut off into rings. I exchanged such a ring for a red club, not made of ebony, but of some other heavy wood. The black stuck the ring immediately on his finger, half covering it; and Thibaut had no sooner remarked this wire ring, than he tried to procure it from the black by exchanging any number of beads for it, whilst my servants stood by and laughed not a little. He shewed it afterwards on his own finger, and thought that it was gold, and that we should now gain endless treasures for our beads, because the people, fortunately for us, did not know the value. I did not wish to disturb his innocent wishes, and was silent till the ring changed colour, when it afforded us a subject for laughter. There was but little to purchase from the people, because they, with few exceptions, brought long reed-stalks in their hands, instead of any weapons, as a sign of their friendly intentions, according to the orders of their king, Biur, who had done so at our request. A pretty young woman, with tolerably long hair, stood at a little distance, holding a spear in her hand.

At two o’clock we leave the sand-bank; immediately numberless birds settled there, and collected themselves for a banquet on the remains of the slaughtered beasts. We sailed S.S.W., a short tract, and then round the left to S.E.; here we saw, at half-past two o’clock, towards E., a large pastoral city, and people, and dogs,—the latter in unusually large numbers. From the mast:—on the right, to S.W., a lake; likewise one over the village to S.S.E.; and beside this village, five others up to the Haba: on the right shore, neither the one nor the other. The thermometer 29° at three o’clock. The above-named village of herdsmen, whose huts, like flat bee-hives, consist of reeds and straw, is followed by the huts of the women, built with a little more care, and also higher, having a square entrance, and on the top another thick irregular layer of reeds, so as to make the bent stalks of reeds heavier, and to keep off the rain.

The river goes from here E.N.E. For some days past, glass beads have been exchanged for ivory. I also, for the first time in my life, am now turning to mercantile speculations, and pleasing myself with the idea of the astonishment I shall cause to my brother. Five o’clock, E.N.E.; the north wind is good; five miles, whilst we only made three shortly after our setting out. At sun-set S.E. by E.; a smell of fire, and the smoke of a village, on the right side, came to meet us. We are soon convinced, to our horror, that the reed-straw near us is in full blaze, and it is fortunate that the river here does not make any curves, or we might be directly exposed to the flames. On the right is a large village, with peculiar tokuls, enveloped in black clouds of smoke, over which the sun dips as if into a dark sea of blood.

If we consider how such a reed conflagration extends with incredible swiftness in a violent wind, we shall see that the fire is not alone to be viewed as a purifying element of the marshy region, but also as the greatest means of destruction of the numerous forms of reptiles, and indescribable numbers of insects prevalent here. I have already convinced myself of this by the remains of consumed snakes. The river winds at the corner occupied by the long village, to S.W.

Two calves swam in the water, not being able to scramble up the precipitous shore again. The men had no sooner asked me whether they should take them, than I, as the momentary wokil of Feïzulla Capitan, gave them permission, in order to return them at a subsequent period when we came again to the natives; for there was so much meat on board, that it disgusted even part of the crew. The reïs tried with all his might to throw overboard the beasts just saved, because they were not to be slaughtered, and he wanted to have the hides; this, however, I very soon managed to prevent.

Seven o’clock.—The wind had slackened after sunrise, and the sailors now sang at the rope; women and cows hallooed and lowed in opposition. I had forgotten to observe the thermometer, whilst we were passing by the burning reeds; but now, after seven o’clock, when we have the fire behind us, it shews 28° Reaumur. By reason of the great danger, we try to get out of the reeds; the men at the rope are in a very difficult position when darkness sets in, for they wound their feet on the reed-stubble. On the left are two gohrs for catching fish, near another small lake. A little village lies on the top of the third island, with nine summer tokuls. On the right shore extends the long tokul village, and opposite to it twinkles a gohr, near a village. Behind us, the reeds burn in full blaze, to an immeasurable distance. From the mast:—from W.S.W. to N.W., a marsh, with isolated ponds, stretching far and wide; on the left, to S.E., a vast lake, the edge of which vanishes with the horizon. It is already too dark, and we halt, after eight o’clock, in the neighbourhood of a herdsmen’s village on the left shore, where the river winds from E.S.E. to E.

Suliman Kashef sends for me, because he is going to give a great fantasie, or feast to the sailors, as a reward for their strenuous labours in bringing us out of the reach of the fire.

_9th January._—The thermometer, which yesterday evening remained at 28°, stood this morning, shortly before sunrise, at 16°. Our vessel dragged her anchor to-night, owing to a heavy squall of wind. Then arose again the usual noise, about which the captain troubled himself but little. I had felt a shock of the vessel, but did not think that it would be attended by any consequences; but as the hippopotami had already run against the vessels sometimes with such violence that they leaked, I paid some attention to what was going on. By way of precaution, the planks before the cabin were taken away, that we might be able to see when the water ascended into the lower hold. A gaffir (sentinel) had been placed there, but I had known for a long time how these night posts fulfilled their duty. I looked down, therefore, a short time afterwards into the hold, and saw that it was already full of water.

The sentry gaped prodigiously when I woke him up by a vigorous blow. The powder-room under our cabin stood open, so that the gaffir might observe the better; therefore I could not be too quick in ordering water to be poured on the fire, which was burning furiously on the hearth, and which some one had kept up from fancy,—perhaps the sentinel himself, to light his pipe. Then I awoke the rest of the crew, for Feïzulla Capitan lay like a log, because when the habùb set in, he had fortified his courage too much with the araki brewed by himself.

Immediately after sunrise, when the water was got out, we were towed to the left shore E., and immediately N.E. by E. From the mast:—on the left, to the N., lies a village near a small lake; on the right two villages in the plain before the Haba. The wood is an hour distant, but not of the same thickness as those of yesterday and the day before, on the left shore. We go S.S.W., where, on the left, is a village in a short bend in S.E. The whole horizon before us is covered with horned cattle shining from afar. My servants have purchased, on land, several skins of wild beasts, worn by the natives around their shoulders. Seven o’clock: seventeen to twenty genuine tokuls, and behind, a pastoral village, with the usual appearance. The men sing to our sailors, who are towing, but yet they remain on the large hills of ashes; the women sing “Abandejok,” jump, and recite besides God knows what other pretty things. Their village lies about eight feet high, and it does not seem that the high water reaches there, for we do not perceive any repairs to the lower clay walls of the tokuls. The surface of the earth behind the sand-shores is low ground. Half-past seven o’clock. From S.E. with a short bend io S.S.W.

A number of Bohrs are standing upon the point of land formed by a gohr to E.; they complain to us that the Elliàbs dwelling on the other side of the gohr have stolen their cows. We are no priests of justice, and continue our course. This gohr appears, therefore, to form the boundary between the Bohrs and Elliàbs. I was surprised that the former tribe did not dare to cross over the canal, which is about thirty paces broad, and probably connected with a great lake, as the choked-up dams prove, and claim their property _manu forti_. Their whole system of warfare may possibly consist only in such _coups-de-main_, from which, for the moment, eventual brawls may arise. It does not appear to me probable that a whole nation arms and takes the field against the other, for this would be a war of annihilation, which cannot take place, as the numerous population shews.

Eight o’clock. From S.E. to S.S.E. with sails; for the north wind freshens. Whilst I am writing this, the wind suddenly blows from S.E., and we are glad to halt at the left shore, where the sand is heaped up more than ten feet high. We go on by the rope. A storm comes from the south-east wind, but shews itself, however, as a mere blast of wind (habùb). At half-past eight o’clock we sail a short tract to S., but then again libàhn to S.E., on the right shore. Ten o’clock. An innumerable quantity of cows in the low ground on the right side of the shore, where there are more pools and a pastoral village. Again were oxen dragged to us.

We notice a large encampment of herdsmen, somewhat up the country, in the river behind the little pastoral village: I call it an encampment because there are no huts there, but sheds, as a protection against the sun, lying flat upon four stakes, the walls being partly protected by reeds. These straw huts, with flat roofs, which I had seen also besides in the pastoral villages, and which serve in the whole country of Sudàn, during the hot season of the year, for household labours, are called by the Arabs Rekùba. Even the open porches of the clay-houses are so called. Besides these, the reed-walls, protecting the very large fires of the encampment against the wind, stand far and wide around, and glistening herds of cows pasture there on all sides. The abundance of herds might give, indeed, some scale by which we could judge of the population, as I see from the rearing of the beasts that a certain number of hands are necessary. Still S.E., and behind the high reeds of the river another little pastoral village, near which we go to S. Eleven o’clock. On the right a tokul city at the point where we go S.W. Seventy to eighty houses stand along the shore, and we perceive, in a straight line, an arm of the Nile, separating a level island from a large pool. Immediately behind the city a pastoral village extends here and there, with that arm, towards the south.

There are many people on the shore, singing their “Abandejok:” the old women are particularly distinguished in this welcoming. We heard, _horribile dictu_, the clattering noise they make by striking their hanging breasts up and down; remaining with closed knees on one spot, they jumped or sprang up, swinging backwards and forwards their elbows and hands in a horizontal direction, and, bringing both hands before them, greeted us, or begged for something. The younger ones stood at a distance, and looked at the play,—kept back, indeed, more by the men than by their own bashfulness. The men swam over the arm of the river, in order to accompany us still further along the shore, or rather to catch a few beads. Opposite this hamlet are some tokuls, with a large pastoral village. We navigate S.S.W., and half past eleven o’clock S.E.

On the right a gohr discloses itself here, towards the south; two brooks flow now into its shores, close to one another; they join at high water like an arm of the river,—not deep, indeed, but yet as broad as the river we traverse. Opposite to its mouth is what seems a village, the huts in which appear to consist of sheaves of reeds joined together. On closer inspection, I see that it is not a village, but green reeds cut down and placed together to dry, to be used for building materials. We remark that the gohr goes subsequently to S.W., and see towards the west a pastoral village, connected with the tokul city. The extreme margin of the right shore is seven feet, and of the left three feet; the shores themselves ascend up to ten and twelve feet in height. On all sides, as far as the eye can reach, water tracts glisten in the low grounds.

Twelve o’clock. We halt till two o’clock, at an island of the left shore, and go then by the rope in a bend from the above S.E. direction, in half an hour’s time to N. by E. Here we work round a low sand-bank, which projects itself sharply into the river. Fadl told me from the mast, before we came to this corner:—Towards S.S.W., the gohr near the tokuls goes to S.W. Two large lakes are there, and a village, about an hour distant; the wood retreats two hours’ distance. To the left of the right shore also a large lake, half an hour distant, and the trees there indicate marsh land within three hours’ distance.

At half-past three o’clock we have fortunately navigated round from N.E. to S.E. On the right we notice, towards S.W., two large lakes, the first of which, being far off, shews only some tops of trees as its western shore. We have likewise, on the right shore, a considerable lake, at half an hour’s distance from us, at our side. The surface of the earth consists of humus mixed with sand, and frequently displays a reddish tinge, which makes us infer that there is iron-ore there. The natives sang yesterday evening, while they walked along by the side of our men, who were towing, in concert with them, repeating the eternal refrain, “Ja Mohammed;” to-day, also, I saw them at the village where we remarked the great gohr, assisting in towing, with songs and laughter. Although they are not able to converse with our wags, yet they immediately recognised the Abu Hashis, when on shore, as such, and joked with them; yet they were often frightened when the latter assumed a grim countenance and advanced towards them. The population appears to be very large, for it is not confined to the border of the river, but extends up the country, as far as the ground collects the water of the tropical rains; and the truth of this is verified, not only by ocular evidence, but also by the statements of the natives found on the border. But who numbers these dark children of the sun?

Five o’clock. S.W. by S. The river flows from hence on the left in a bend to W., and has a breadth of five hundred paces. At sunset, or six o’clock,—for I also set my watch, according to the Turkish and Arabic manner, at this hour,—we halt E. by S., under the corner where the river winds round to the right. There is here, on the right, a pool in distant sunken land, which must form, at the time of the inundation, a vast level lake. Two villages to S.S.W., one behind the other, and large herds of cattle in their neighbourhood. Up the country, on the left, the nearest village is only to be seen from the mast, and what we perceive to N.E. and N.N.E., is said to be a large drove of cows. I took a walk to this village: it lies on a gohr, and is called Aderègh. To judge from the foot-prints of elephants, it must all have been inundated. As fair winds had set in, we soon returned on board, and advanced at the rate of three miles an hour during two hours, to S. and S.W., and cast anchor in S.E., where the river becomes considerably broader.