Expedition to discover the sources of the White Nile, in the years 1840, 1841, Vol. 1 (of 2)

Eight o’clock. From S., a short tract to S.E., and then E. and N.E. Isolated, strong, ricinus plants, are distinguished by their dark foliage from the other vegetation, which is beginning here also to wither. On the whole it is wonderfully verdant on all sides, to which perhaps the heavy dew may mostly contribute. The people here have better teeth, but the four lower incisors are wanting, according to the custom of the country.

Nine o’clock, S.S.E. On the right shore stands one of those beautifully foliated, large trees, which I have not yet seen close, but which appears to be a species of Robinia. A large company of blacks, smoking long pipes, have collected under this tree. The little boys are excessively merry, blowing in concert their fifes, jumping and greeting, the latter meant for our boys, whose look pleases them more than our bearded faces. The green Haba of the right shore accompanies us cheerfully; the long procession coming out of the wood, to look at the strangers, indicates a very numerous population. Who could believe that there was in Africa this aquatic abundance, this fresh verdure, and this moderate heat, the thermometer having been for some days not above twenty-five degrees? At noon from S.E. to S.W. The river winds, however, immediately again to S., in which direction we generally return in the afternoon. The stream is about six hundred paces broad, and has a depth of three to three fathoms and a half. Here must we journey on, as far as our old planks will allow us, in order to reach its sources with the wind, which is mostly slack. The shallow island we already saw this morning does not end till about two o’clock, and the arm embracing it is broad, and so deep that the negroes accompanying us on shore are obliged to swim. An island deposit lies at its head, and will soon perhaps be united to it. Immediately afterwards, on the left shore, a large summer or pastoral village; on the right and left, singing and jumping of men, women, and children. Our mountain, of a dark-blue colour, on the right, suddenly looked into my window, and surprised me not a little. We sail S.S.E., with two miles rapidity. On the left is a gohr to S.S.E., into which the people plunge with loud huzzaing, so that they may accompany us a little longer. No beads are given gratis; the poor people must run, make the Turks laugh first, and give them entertainment, before it is determined to throw on shore these glass bits of paste, though Selim Capitan possesses an enormous stock of them, and then this generosity is only for the sake of seeing the bustle and noise of the great children.

Three o’clock. On the left an island, and the other arm embracing it, divides immediately a whole troop of people, with their bullocks, from our road; but there are huts and blacks enough on the island itself. We go W., and the mountain lies S.W. of us, as it appears, in its entire longitudinal profile, although we could not distinguish clefts or precipices. The scarpe, on the southern side, ascends to a height nearly equal to one of the ridges, makes a concave vibration towards this, and falls gently to the west on a break, rising precipitously only a little above the horizon. We see even from here that it is a mountain of moderate size.

Four o’clock. The high mountain lies W.S.W. of us, and, to my joy, I hear from the mast that another mountain, far higher, rises behind it to S.W., with three peaks (Tshokka, fork, spike). It must therefore belong to a high land, as I have already hoped.

The women sing their “kulle,” and throw the upper part of their bodies from one side to the other. I saw also the men here shake their chests with such agility and force, as I had never witnessed in the dances of the Arabs. How inferior all our gymnastics are to the natural nimbleness, and lion and tiger-like flexibility of these freely developed limbs! I see one negro jump up from the ground against another, with a piercing cry; he turns himself round whilst flying in the air, and stands with a raised spear—I might say upon his toe, bent forward for the combat—but he is immediately again appeased by the other. This was a pirouette, worthy of the plastic skill and hand of an artist. In the space of an hour, two other mountains in the south, we ourselves going southerly, are announced to me. On the right and left villages continue, but we see only here and there the top of a tokul, because they do not stand on the extreme higher margin of the shore. Large herds of cows glisten forth from the Haba close at hand, and others are scrambling down to the river to drink. This wooded region, directly on the stream, the proximity of the mountains,—we shall see what beautiful and wonderful things yet the interior of Africa may contain; and I will endure every thing, because I feel strengthened and excited by the mountain air blowing down upon me.

There are some trees as green as beeches in May, and having the wide-spread branches of oaks. Immediately afterwards, a large village with flat tokuls: the right shore presents here, in truth, a charming sight. One tree, I remark, having some similarity to the linden in its foliage, spreading out its boughs like fans, in fantastical forms, and standing there oddly. On the right and left are several villages, and also an island on the right side of the river. On the left shore, a large tokul city, with a large and small island in the river before it. The tokuls have nearly a pointed roof, but appear to be carefully built. A number of people have accumulated there, and I hear the “kullelu” quite plainly, trilling, in the sharpest treble, the accent “Ih, ih, ih.”

We halt, in a southerly direction, at sun-set, in the middle of the river, not to be annoyed by the natives, and to avoid all provocation on the part of the crew. The country is still a real paradise, and the durra is putting forth its shoots, to give a second crop. It must not be supposed that the fields have a regular form; on the contrary, every thing looks as if it grew of its own accord, without sowing. The trees stand in such strength, as though they had no need of water; and the human beings shew, by their more noble appearance, that they enjoy a generous nourishment.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

London:
Printed by S. & J. Bentley and Henry Fley,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.