The heart of Africa, Vol. 1 (of 2)

CHAPTER IX.

I spent December and January in a tour of considerable extent through the adjacent Mittoo country, being desirous of visiting some Seribas recently established by Aboo Sammat, and by means of which he had extended his frontiers far onwards towards the east. I obtained ten bearers for the transport of my baggage, and a Nubian captain of Aboo Sammat’s company was expressly appointed to act as guide and to provide for my accommodation all along the route. I was accompanied likewise by three of my own Khartoom servants.

A short journey to the north-east brought us to Boiko, where, enclosed by a dense forest, was situated Aboo Sammat’s harem. A lady here, the first wife, a daughter of the Niam-niam chief Wando, although she did not permit herself to be seen, was near at hand to do the honours: she was so far civilized that she entertained me with coffee and several Khartoom dishes.

Proceeding eastwards we reached the little river Tudyee, which, flowing past Sabby at a distance of about two leagues to the east, ultimately joins the Roah (the Nam Dyow of the Dinka); at this time of year it is about twenty feet deep, and murmurs along a channel from twenty to thirty feet wide; now and then it forms deep basins, which never fail to be full of fish. We made our first night-camp near a fine tamarind, which will probably for years to come be a landmark as conspicuous as it was at the time of my visit; it was the usual halting-place of all caravans from east to west, and the traces of previous encampments, dilapidated straw-hats, vestiges of fires and fragments of bones bore ample testimony to the fact.

At this season a slight dew was perceptible towards five o’clock in the morning. The nights were calm and, in comparison with the day, were considerably cooler than in summer, when in the interior of the huts there is hardly any difference in temperature to be distinguished. Throughout the day, however, a strong north wind blew incessantly, which towards the afternoon increased almost to a hurricane. There is a peculiar charm in these early morning hours, and no one can wake from his repose in a night-camp in the wilderness without a sense of calm enjoyment of the delights of nature. As soon as the horizon reddens with the dawn the solitude is enlivened by a chorus of ring-doves, here the most frequent of their kind, and by the cackling of guinea-fowl. The traveller is aroused daily by their serenades, and, without much strain upon his imagination, he could almost persuade himself that he has been long resident in the same spot, so familiar does the cooing of the doves become.

As we were preparing to continue our march, some people came to meet us with some dismal intelligence from the neighbouring village of Geegyee. They said that on the previous night a Nubian soldier, who had laid himself down at the door of his hut, about five paces from the thorn hedge, had been seized by a lion, and, before he could raise an alarm had been dragged off no one knew whither. I now learnt, that this district had for some years been infested with lions, and that lately the casualties had been so frequent that the greater part of the inhabitants of Geegyee had migrated in consequence. The entire village would have been transplanted long ago, but the lions had been always found to follow every change of position. At seven o’clock in the morning we reached the ill-omened spot, the poorest of neglected villages, surrounded by woods. A thorn hedge formed its enclosure but nowhere could we discover an entrance. Although the sun was now high, the inhabitants, terrified lest the lions should be near, were still sitting either on the tops of their roofs or on the piles that supported their granaries. Speechless and depressed with fear, my people proceeded on their journey: every one kept his gun in hand, and the bearers, listening anxiously at every rustle that broke the stillness, peered carefully after any traces of the dreaded foe.

After a good day’s march we arrived at Aboo Sammat’s Seriba Dokkuttoo, lying on the extreme east of the frontier of the Bongo; it was about twenty miles from the chief Seriba Sabby, being somewhat further to the south. Half a league before we reached Dokkuttoo we had crossed a considerable, though only periodical stream, called the Mokloio. It was now five feet deep, meandering over a low flat fifty feet wide to join the Roah.

The Roah is a river of about the same size as the Tondy, with which it finally unites itself; it here makes a remarkable bend from south-east to north-east, but its general direction for some distance in this district is due north; the stream flowed between banks twenty or thirty feet in height; its average width was full forty feet, whilst it was only three feet deep; the velocity of the current was one hundred and twenty feet a minute. The grass flat covered by the Roah at the time of its inundation is not so wide as that covered by the Tondy at Koolongo; it measured barely half a league across, and I therefore conclude that this river carries northward a volume of water smaller than the Tondy.

The Bongo were most assiduous in securing the large supplies of fish offered by the Roah. Across the stream in many places was thrown a kind of weir like a chevaux de frise; this they stopped up with bunches of grass and so formed a small dam; over the open places were set creels, and altogether a rich produce rarely failed to be obtained. Some miles up the river, where the banks are shut in by impenetrable reeds, is a favourite resort of hippopotamuses, and it was said that, two years previously, the natives had killed no less than thirty in a single day. The brutes had been driven by the low condition of the water to seek the deeper basins of the river-bed, whence all escape was impossible.

We remained in Dokkuttoo for two days, of which I made the most by excursions in the neighbourhood. A small slave caravan, containing one hundred and fifty girls and children, happened to be passing through the Seriba; it was conducted by traders coming from Ghattas’s and Agahd’s territory in the east. The whole party huddled together for the night in a couple of huts, several old female slaves being entrusted with the supervision of the children. I was a witness of the arrangements for the evening meal, and, contrary to my expectation, found that everything was conducted with much system and regularity. The old Bongo people of the neighbouring villages had brought fifty bowls of dokhn-groats, and as many more containing sauces prepared from sesame-oil, Hyptis-pap, and dried and powdered meat or fish, and other comestibles of gourds and wild Melochia.

My own entertainment was well provided for, and the agent had an extra bullock slaughtered in order that my little company should not proceed without the supply of meat necessary for the journey. Every mouthful of food that I swallowed in this unhappy country was a reproach to the conscience, but the voice of hunger drowned every higher emotion; even the bread that we ate had been forced from the very poorest in the season of their harvest when their joy, such as it was, was at its height; they probably had neither cow nor goat, and their little children were in peril of dying of starvation and only dragged out a miserable existence by scraping up roots. The meat, in the abundance of which we were revelling, had been stolen from poor savages, who pay almost a divine homage to their beasts, and who answer with their blood for the stubbornness with which they defend their cows, which they hold dearer than wife or child.

Leaving Dokkuttoo, we proceeded for three leagues to the south, passing through the light bushwood that skirted the left bank of the Roah. The woods lay close down to the river as it flowed between its rocky banks. We crossed the stream near some huts, already inhabited by Mittoo, of which the name of the local chief was Degbe. Further south our path again and again crossed wide meadow-flats containing water-basins almost as large as lakes, which, as they had no perceptible current, had every appearance of being ancient beds of the Roah. Several larger kinds of antelopes, water-bucks, and hartebeests appeared, and a herd of thirty leucotis challenged me to a chase. At night, at our bivouac in the forest, we enjoyed in consequence a fine feast of the savoury game. Between the Roah and the Rohl the previous uniformity of the rocks began to be broken by projections of gneiss and by scattered hills. About ten leagues from Ngahma we passed a remarkable spot of this kind, where huge blocks of stone rose in mounds from which colossal obelisks might be hewn. These elevated places alternated with extensive flats level as a table top.

Ngahma was Aboo Sammat’s most important settlement amongst the Mittoo. It lies in a S.S.E. direction from Dokkuttoo and derives its name from the elder of the people, who, with his twenty wives, resides at no great distance; by the natives it is called Mittoo-mor. From Ngahma I turned north-east towards Dimindoh, a small settlement of elephant-hunters belonging to Ghattas’s “Gebel company,” as the people style his establishments on the Bahr-el-Gebel. The district was the highest elevation between the Roah and the Rohl, the country being more diversified by defiles, clefts, and periodic streams than that which I had previously traversed. Dimindoh lay on the further bank of a little river called the Wohko, which, during our march, we had repeatedly to cross. The stream flows over a course of some seventy miles without any perceptible increase in its dimensions, a peculiarity that I have again and again observed in many other small rivers, which seem to flow across wide tracts of country unchanged in their condition by the affluence of any spring or running brook.

An excellent reception awaited me in Dimindoh. The hunting-village had been lately built of straw and bamboo at a large outlay, and there were regular straw palaces, of which the new domes and roofs gleamed with all the golden glory of Ceres. To say the very least, our rest was quite undisturbed by rats, and the idyllic abodes still retained the pleasant aroma of the meadows. I had no cause to complain of the entertainment in any of the smaller Seribas. I was always supplied with milk and with all kinds of meal. The traditional spirit-distillery of Ghattas’s people was here also in full swing, and they brought to me, in gourd-shells, a concoction which was not so utterly bad as that at Gurfala.

I was, however, much bewildered by the constant solicitations for my medical advice. Amongst other cases they brought me a Nubian, who, on his excursions, had received such cuts from the grass that his feet had completely rotted away, leaving the tendons still hanging. These people have no rational way of treating their wounds, but when there is any inflammation they endeavour to allay it by corn-poultices and hot water, a proceeding which always aggravates the evil. I saw some who had lost several toes, and others who had the most revolting sores on the shins and insteps, and in nearly every case these had arisen from insignificant cuts which, simply from mismanagement, had terminated in disease.

“It is a strange thing,” I said to them, “that the grass is only bad here; it must be something more than that; it is a punishment from God.”

“But God,” they answered, “does not give us such grass in Dongola; this is a bad country.”

“Do you mean to say then,” I replied, “that God is kind in Dongola, and unkind here? No; I tell you, God is Himself punishing you for all your thievery, because there is here no other ruler to look after your misdeeds.”

I felt that I was quite justified in talking in this fashion to a people who, under the cloak of religion, are as unscrupulous rascals as any in the world, and who, misinterpreting the mottoes on their banners which incite them to war against the infidel, consider all plunder perpetrated on defenceless savages as heroic actions bearing them onwards to the palms of Paradise.

The chief Seriba of this eastern section of Ghattas’s establishments lies only a league and a half to the north-east of Dimindoh, and was called Dangadduloo, after a certain Danga, who had been appointed the head of the Mittoo of the district. In 1863 the brothers Poncet of Khartoom had ceded to Ghattas their settlements amongst the Agar, on the Rohl, in order to found fresh establishments in the following year near the cataracts of that river, among the Lehssy. The Agar, as I have already mentioned, had managed to obtain possession of a considerable quantity of firearms and ammunition, and had made themselves so formidable that the Khartoomers had not ventured to rebuild the Seriba that had been destroyed: for that reason, the settlements of Ghattas had receded southwards to the region in which I now found myself. Our road lay often across wide gneiss flats, which not unfrequently exhibited the same uniformity for several hundred yards together. From the surface the stone broke off in smooth laminæ, often as thin as the cover of a book, and afforded me a convenient material for pressing my packets of plants. We had crossed the Wohko for the second time at Dimindoh, where its bed was about fifteen feet deep: its course is generally due north, but here it bends at a right angle to the east, as if seeking the shortest route to join the Rohl. The little river abounds in shells, especially in Anodontæ, which are turned to many domestic uses by the natives, while the massive Etheria Cailliaudii, not unlike the oyster, forms continuous banks in all these minor streams.

In Dangadduloo I found two applicants both eager to obtain the appointment as superintendent of the Seriba. One of these had accompanied the last caravan of supplies from Khartoom, and now was not acknowledged in the Seriba by the soldiers, who reproached him for having acted fraudulently. He was a Copt, and, as far as I know, the first and last Khartoom Christian who ever ventured amongst this set of fanatics. The other agent, named Selim, was a negro over six feet high, and by birth a Dinka; he had the majority of the inhabitants of the Seriba on his side, and lived in continual contention with his rival about the surrender of the stores brought from Khartoom. Both of these men received me with a great show of friendship, and each strove to outdo the other in politeness; they considered that a great deal might depend upon the answer that I should give their master on my return to Khartoom, when he would probably ask my opinion of their respective merits. Each maligned the other, and almost in the same terms; they were both, moreover, throughout the two days which I spent with them more or less in a state of intoxication.

Wherever I entered a Seriba there was almost invariably brought to my hut, according to the Soudan fashion of receiving strangers, a cooling draught, consisting of a kind of cold cup called Abrey. It was made in the simplest manner from highly-leavened bread, dried and crumbled into water; its flavour is agreeable, and travellers can hardly say too much in its favour: it is a preparation, however, that can only be made of sorghum bread. In addition to this the people are accustomed, according to patriarchal usage, to bring water to wash the stranger’s feet. When there preliminaries had been gone through, I had then to take my seat upon the “angareb” or couch, which was generally covered with an elegant Persian carpet, and to await the visits that would be made me.

A succession of unknown personages ordinarily came, who made a reverent salaam and then silently and with mysterious air placed before me flasks, calabashes, and gourd-shells containing butter, milk, honey, spirits, merissa—​in short, every delicacy that the country could offer. My people revelled in this abundance, and ever rejoiced at the happy thought which had impelled me to this tour, and that I had brought them from a land threatened with famine into this region of corn and cattle. The fact of a large number of the herds having been stolen, and that the territory was adjacent to the territory that had been plundered, gave rise to the risk of a nocturnal attack by way of reprisal: on this account numerous watches were set every night and the environs were patrolled, but no sooner had the sun gone down than the entire community abandoned themselves to a general intoxication, so that I should never have been astonished if the Dinka had ventured on a surprise, which would have had every likelihood of being crowned with success.

The Mittoo of this district are called Gheree. Southwards and far to the east of the Rohl the general name of Moro is applied to the country, and as tribes of distinct people have settled there, it may no doubt be considered as a true geographical designation of the land itself; it is, however, the only example which came under my notice throughout the entire region of the appellation of the people and the land not being identical.

Favoured by the partial destruction of the high grass by fire, the natives were diligently setting about their great hunt. Battues, with nets, pits, and snares, were set on foot in every direction; the strong bows with curved handles, by means of which a lasso can by skill be thrown round a buffalo’s legs, being in general use. In the villages I observed many trophies of the chase in the shape of some splendid horns of buffaloes and eland-antelopes.

As I went on due east towards the Rohl, I was obliged to be carried, on account of having a sore foot. This I found a matter of some difficulty, on account of the want of any suitable litter, and because the paths are all so narrow that there is no space for two persons to move abreast, while the difficulty was still further increased by the negroes refusing to carry the heavy angarebs in any way except upon their heads. Wherever Islamism has its sway in Africa, it appears never to be the fashion for any one to allow himself to be carried: this arises from a religious scruple which might with advantage be applied by Europeans to nations under their protection. A strict Mohammedan reckons it an actual sin to employ a man as a vehicle, and such a sentiment is very remarkable in a people who set no limits to their spirit of oppression. It is a known fact that a Mohammedan, though he cannot refuse to recognise a negro, denying the faith, as being a man, has not the faintest idea of his being entitled to any rights of humanity.

The country on the left bank of the Wohko appeared well cultivated, and we frequently passed through fields from which crops of Penicillaria had been gathered. Three leagues from Dangadduloo there was some low meadow land, and, for the first time since leaving the Dyoor, I saw an extensive range of Borassus palms, their lofty stems, 80 feet in height, crowned with waving plumes of fan-shaped leaves. Beneath their shade nestled the huts of the Mittoo chief Bai, with whom we took our noonday rest. In the afternoon we retraced our steps for a couple of leagues, in order to put up for the night in the village of another chief, named Gahdy. Towards the north-east some important heights now showed themselves on the horizon beyond the Rohl, and after awhile I was able to settle certain angles so as to determine their relative bearings. By this means, for the first time, I ascertained that my route must be near the points which had been reached by former travellers, and I could with certainty identify Girkeny, relatively about 200 feet high, with the locality marked on Petherick’s map.

It afforded me much amusement to watch the natives at their ordinary occupations in their pent-up dwellings, and my portfolio was enriched by the drawings of many of the household utensils, as well as of the personal ornaments which the Mittoo women possess in great abundance. These women are the most frightful that ever yet I had seen, and the horrible manner in which they mutilate their lips contributes a great deal to increase their repulsiveness. Elsewhere this practice is generally confined to the women, but here the men were similarly disfigured, and in Gahdy’s village I was visited by a man from whose upper lip there hung a pendant of polished quartz more than two inches long.

Just behind the village we came once more upon the Wohko, which had here more perfectly assumed the aspect of a river, being forty feet in width. It had now entered upon the wide low-lying steppe which extends to the western shores of the Rohl. We were nearly two hours in crossing this tract, which was densely covered with grass so high that, although in my litter I was six feet above the ground, I had to raise myself to catch sight of the adjacent mountains.

It is worthy of notice how all the rivers that I visited in this region, such as the Dyoor, the Paongo, the Tondy, the Roah, and the Rohl, of which the course was almost directly from south to north, in spite of the slight diminution of the velocity of the earth’s rotation in these low latitudes of 6° or 8°, follow that law, exemplified in all rivers flowing northwards, and which is dependent on the rate of rotation of the earth. The course of all alike was nearly coincident with the eastern edge of the uniform steppes that covered the districts subject to their inundations. Along the western shore of the Dyoor and Paongo the steppes in many places could not be crossed in much less than an hour, whilst those on the east could be traversed in little more than ten minutes. In the same way it takes forty minutes to cross the western flats on the Tondy near Koolongo, but those on the opposite bank are easily passed in a sixth of the time. Here, too, upon the Rohl there are no flats at all upon the right-hand shore, but the river for some distance washes past a steepish bank on which lies Ghattas’s Seriba Awoory. This bank is formed by the slope of the Girkeny, only about two leagues away.

The Rohl contains a much larger volume of water than the Tondy, and near Awoory its bed divides into several branches, which in the winter are separated by sandbanks of considerable height. In the higher parts some stagnant pools remain, which, as they evaporate, fill the lowland with swampy humour. On the 17th of December I found the width of the river to be seventy feet; its depth was only about two feet and a half, but it was overhung by sandy banks twenty feet high, which were covered with reeds; its current moved at the moderate rate of about a hundred feet a minute. The river must offer an imposing sight in the height of the rainy season, when the plains are entirely under water; it must, then, apparently rival the Dyoor, although it does not contain more than a third of the quantity of water. Marked on existing maps under the name of Rohl, it is called by the Dinka the Nam-Rohl, i. e., the river of the “Rohl,” which is a tribe of the Dinka people. The Mittoo, the Madi, and other tribes along its course give it the name of Yahlo, whilst among the Bongo it is known as the Dyollebe. This is a fresh instance of what may be found throughout Africa, where the names of rivers, towns, and chiefs continually recur, and where Ronga and Mundo are almost as common as Columbus, Franklin, and Jackson in North America. The term Kaddo or Kodda, which appears on some maps, seems superfluous, since in both the Mittoo and Behl dialects the word means only “a river,” or generally “water.”

At Awoory a reception grander than usual was prepared for me. From my elevated position I could distinguish that the ant-hills were covered with black heads and that hundreds of inquisitive natives had collected to gratify their curiosity about me. As I entered the Seriba, fifty men were drawn up before the gate, under orders to honour me by firing a salute. Something of a feeling of misgiving quivered through me, and it was a relief to recollect that I was up in the air, and so comparatively safe from the shots that were to be fired on the ground.

The natives around Awoory are called Sohfy, and are the same as the Rohl, who dwell further east. Their language in some respects resembles those of the Mittoo and the Bongo, although there are points in which it differs materially from both. In appearance and habits, the Sohfy bear a close affinity to the Mittoo. The three mountains to the north of Awoory are also inhabited by the Sohfy; Girkeny, the loftiest of these, is about three leagues distant, and consists of a bright mass of gneiss, which descends abruptly towards the south in precipices 200 feet apart. Petherick’s route in 1863, between Aweel and Yirri, lay across this mountain. Nearer the Seriba is a little hill, with its villages of Nyeddy, Yei, and Madoory, all of which are tributary to Ghattas.

About a day’s journey to the north-east there rises a lofty table-land, upon which the name of Khartoom has been conferred by the natives, in order to denote its importance and impregnability as a stronghold. Its inhabitants are respected by the people of the Seriba for their bravery in war, and are particularly renowned for their skill in archery: although they have been repeatedly attacked, the aggressors, ever unsuccessful, have been obliged to retreat with a large number of killed and wounded. A few weeks previously the population of this Mount Khartoom had attempted to surprise the Seriba, which most probably would not have escaped entire destruction, if the garrison of the neighbouring Seriba of the Poncets had not opportunely come to its relief.

The Nubians apply the general term of Dyoor to all the tribes on the Rohl to the south of the Dinka territory, although the tribes themselves, having nothing in common either in language, origin, or customs with the Dyoor of the west (a Shillook tribe), repudiate the definition. The designation was adopted from the Dinka, who thus distinguish all tribes that do not devote themselves to cattle-breeding. Petherick was in error when he imagined that the Dyoor country known to him in his earlier travels extended so far as to include the Rohl: he would have escaped his misapprehension if he had only noted down a few of the characteristic idioms of their language.

Whilst I was in Awoory my foot became so much worse that for two days I was almost entirely incapacitated. Externally there was only a slight spot on the sole of the foot, but the entire limb had swollen with inflammation. I had every reason to fear an outbreak of guinea-worm, and therefore resigned myself to the cheerless prospect of being invalided for several weeks. Unable to carry out my intended trip to the attractive mountains of the neighbourhood, I had no alternative but to submit to my disappointment, and, without accomplishing my hopes, I was compelled to bid farewell to Awoory. For six days I had been confined to my litter, and meanwhile all search for plants, all the enticements of the chase, and all investigation of the implements peculiar to the villages had to be given up. Enthroned again on the heads of four sturdy negroes, I proceeded on my way. Through my position, my range of vision was somewhat enlarged, so that I had a little compensation for my helplessness in a more extensive prospect over the pleasant country. Pain, too, was subsiding, and no longer engrossed my care. The bright sky above, the still solitude of the steppes around, the mild air of the tropical winter, and the unwonted ease of my mode of progress, all combined to lull me into gentle reverie. The slight rustle made by the footsteps of the bearers among the yielding stalks was the only sound that broke my silent contemplations, and I could almost imagine that I was in a light boat, being driven by an invisible power across the waves of a sea of grass.

Until we passed the Rohl the road lay in a S.S.E. direction, close along its right-hand bank. Inland, the country appeared to ascend in gently-rising terraces, but the character of the vegetation continued entirely unaltered, the bush-forest being composed of trees and shrubs of the same kind that I had observed ever since we had set foot upon the red soil. At the place of our transit the stream was undivided; but, although it was 200 feet in breadth, the water was little more than knee-deep. The numbers of fish were quite surprising, and our negroes amused themselves by darting with their arrows at the swarms of little perch, never failing to make good their aim.

On the opposite bank we entered the territory of another small but distinct tribe called the Lehssy, whose dialect differs from both Mittoo and Sohfy. Its narrow limits extend for a few leagues to the east of the river as far as Kirmo, which was one of the places visited by Petherick. Beyond again are the settlements of the Bohfy, in whose territory, a day’s journey to the east of Mvolo, Agahd maintains a Seriba, which is situated on the Ayi, a river which, according to Petherick, contains less water than the Rohl and joins the Dyamid before it enters the Bahr-el-Gebel. To the north of the Bohfy dwell the Behl, who, together with the Agar and Sohfy, possess such wealth of cattle as to provoke continual raids on the part of the owners of the Seribas. Behind the Behl again, towards the Bahr-el-Gebel, are the Atwol, a people much feared for their warlike qualities, rendering the approaches to the Meshera of that river so unsafe that caravans are often in considerable danger of attack.

After crossing the Rohl we proceeded a mile or two to the S.E., and arrived at Poncet’s Seriba in Mvolo. The character of the scenery had now entirely changed, and large blocks of granite, at one time in solid cubes, at another in pointed obelisks, started from the ground. On the north of the Seriba, and a little above the place where we forded the river in coming from Awoory, these rocky projections caused the stream to fall into rapids, which, on a reduced scale, bore a resemblance to a cataract of the Nile. This chain of scattered rocks, which runs across the country from west to east, has been mentioned by Petherick (‘Travels in Africa,’ vol. ii.) as extending to the south of the village of Dugwara.

The agent in Mvolo, who had been for many years in the service of the brothers Poncet, received me most courteously. As I entered within the palisade of the Seriba, a hundred men saluted me after the fashion of the country, and even some shots were fired from a small piece of naval artillery that stood in the gateway. However honoured I might feel by this polite reception, I could be conscious of nothing but vexation at the sight of the blood-red banner with its crescent and extracts from the Koran. I had flattered myself in vain with the hope that here at least the cheerful waving of the tricolour—​often but a mockery—​would proudly assert the authority and independence of the Frank. My people had repeatedly declared that they would on no account follow under my flag, and I had no means open to me of convincing them of their error. The unfurling of the Mohammedan banner over the possessions of a Frenchman is a practical demonstration of the limited measure of authority which is really exercised by the Khartoom merchants over their dependents in the interior. There is not a single Christian in the settlement, so that the condition of things is not worse than might reasonably be anticipated. Such, at any rate, is my opinion, and I do not doubt but that any fellow-countryman of Poncet’s would either hold his peace or pass a judgment even sterner than mine.

In all these countries the slave-traffic is a fact tacitly acknowledged quite as much as the transactions of the minor speculators on our own exchanges, and the brothers Poncet had much odium to endure from being held responsible for the delinquencies of their subordinates in this respect. These accusations, combined with the difficulty of maintaining a proper control over the conduct of their people, made them hesitate to increase the number of their settlements; their insignificant profits, moreover, did not allow them to stand against the competition of the neighbouring companies, who shrunk from no means, however unlawful, for enriching themselves. At length the brothers Poncet had become weary of the illegitimate proceedings that went on covertly in defiance of their authority, so that a year previously they had disposed of their establishments to the Egyptian Government, stipulating for a period of three years for a payment of a percentage on the entire produce of ivory at the current rate of interest. Such were the circumstances under which the last European firm withdrew from the ivory trade, which had really been originated and established in the countries of the Upper Nile by Europeans alone. The Egyptian Government had looked forward to the monopoly of the ivory traffic as so likely to be lucrative that they paid a large sum for its purchase.

Mvolo was practically the nearest point to the region which was most productive of ivory, and there was a direct route from the Rohl to the Monbuttoo which avoided the hostile territory of the Niam-niam. Latterly, the Poncets had sent out two expeditions in the year instead of one, and had thus doubled their previous annual profits through having resources which were not available to any other establishment. But, in spite of everything, the authorities at Khartoom must have advised the Government very badly, for almost immediately after the discharge of the grant allowed to the Poncets the settlement passed into other hands, and Ghattas junior obtained for himself and for his heirs the whole of the productive territory.

Many may think that a resolution of the Government to monopolise the ivory trade in this district would augur well for the future, and that the results would inevitably tend towards a reform of the existing club-law, but it is really very doubtful whether such a change would benefit the poor oppressed natives. It is true that by a larger outlay of capital than the Khartoom merchants can afford the profits might be considerably increased, and many sources of produce yet undiscovered might be brought to light; but, as I have said before, there can never be ensured a proper representative effectually to secure the interests of the Viceroy. All these enterprises are more or less involved in the slave trade, and a military occupation could not be thought of, because only Nubians can endure the climate, and Nubians would never submit to a regular discipline. Of the ineradicable propensity to slave-dealing which has always shown itself in every Government official, be he Turk or Egyptian, I will say nothing; but I may venture to observe that neither a regular system of taxation nor the suppression of the slave trade in the Upper Nile countries is possible until Egypt shall have made good its footing in Darfoor, that great nucleus of the Central African slave traffic, which has hitherto been a place of refuge for all the criminals in the Egyptian Soudan, and which affords a continual loophole of retreat for every outlaw of Khartoom. The threat so often heard in the quarrels of the people, “I will murder you, and escape to Darfoor,” is a striking illustration of the estimate in which the district is held.

The inhabitants of Mvolo call themselves Lehssy, and in many particulars of their habits they resemble the Mittoo and Bongo. In the huts I frequently observed some singular wooden figures, the Penates of the establishment, which had been erected to the memory of a departed wife. Petherick describes the graves near Kirmo as adorned with forked boughs, and bits of wood carved into the shape of horns, exactly as I noticed them on the graves of the Bongo.

The district produces plenty of corn, and with its ample opportunities for hunting and fishing supports a tolerably large population, which has every appearance of being well fed. The Lehssy generally are of a medium height, but I came across individuals of a strength of build such as I saw nowhere else except among the Niam-niam. I was also struck by the frequent occurrence of feet and hands disproportionately large. Dongolo, the native overseer of Mvolo, was, on account of his stoutness, called “bermeel,” a barrel; and another of the inhabitants was nicknamed “elephant-foot.”

Distinct, in some respects, from what I had already seen was this district of Mvolo. Far as the eye could reach, there extended a wide grassy plain, broken by huge stones of fantastic outline and by thickets or single trees. Graceful fan-palms waved above the groves, and the autumn tints gave a rich colouring to the scenery, every rock, with its covering of creepers, being a picture in itself. In the north could be seen the three mountains near Awoory, like purple peaks in the pale azure of the horizon. In the far distance the country had the deep blue of an Italian sky, mellowed as it came nearer into peculiar tints of grey and golden brown; whilst close to the foreground all was bright with the varied hues of foliage, red, yellow, and olive-green alternating with the freshness of the sprouting shrubs, the Indian red of the ant-hills, and the silvery grey of the jutting rocks.

The Seriba, like its environs, was unique of its kind. The formidable appearance of the confused pile-work would have spoilt the night’s rest of any one who had a very sensitive imagination. Something like a picture I remember of the Antiquary’s dream, only without the sea, did the complication of huts stand out against the tall blocks of granite from which the fan-palms started like proud columns. The huts themselves, on their platform of clay, were like paper cones on a flat table. In front was the great farmyard, with its hundreds of cattle under the charge of Dinka servants. These neatherds erect for themselves crooked awnings on equally crooked piles, and sit huddled up on a soft bed of ashes round the ever-glowing dungheaps, inhaling with delight their favourite fumes. These pile-works undergo many modifications in design, and have been imitated from the strongholds made by the natives when they were still masters of the land. The principal use of these structures is to afford places of refuge from hostile attack.

ROCK-RABBITS.

Quite in keeping with the fantastic scenery and eccentric architecture is the peculiarity of the rock-rabbits that dwell among the crevices of the gneiss. Immediately after sunset, or before sunrise, they can be seen everywhere, squatting like marmots at the entrance to their holes, into which, at the approach of danger, they dart with wonderful snorts and grunts. The noise they make has caused the Nubians to bestow upon them the general name of “kako.” There is, however, a great variety of species, hardly distinguishable from each other, scattered throughout the Nile countries, every district seeming to present its own special representative of the race. Not only are they found in the mountains of Abyssinia and of Upper Sennaar, but they inhabit those isolated mounds and hills which give its peculiar character to the landscape in Southern Kordofan and the province of Taka. Again, they appear in the mountains of the Bayooda steppes, and play a prominent part in Southern Africa; whilst other species are found in Arabia, in the Sinai peninsula, and in the Syrian mountains. Those that I saw in Mvolo nearly correspond with the Abyssinian species depicted by Bruce. They appear to feed chiefly on the bark of trees, although they occasionally devour young shoots and grass.

Abdoo, the controller of Mvolo, was half a naturalist: as a huntsman he had done service under many Europeans, and had acquired a reputation for being a skilful stuffer of birds. He drew my particular attention to the good sport afforded by the rock-rabbits, as they crept about in tempting proximity to the gate of the Seriba. At the same time, he asked if I could account for the wonderful way in which the animals managed to clamber up and down smooth rocks that were almost perpendicular.

“I can’t tell,” he said, “how it is, but when you have shot one of the creatures, and catch hold of it, it sticks to the rock with its feet, in its death struggles, as though it had grown there.”

The under part of the foot is dark and elastic as india-rubber, and has several deeply-indented cushions.[38] This arrangement, which no other mammalia or warm-blooded animals seem to possess, enables the creature, by opening and closing the centre cleft, to throw off part of its weight and to gain a firm hold upon the smooth surface of the stone. The toes are nothing but pads of horny skin, without regular nails, the hind foot alone being furnished, on the inner toe, with one claw, which is sharply compressed. For some time I could not at all comprehend how, with such a plump foot, the rock-rabbit could climb so safely over precipitous walls of granite, or even along the polished branches of the little trees in the ravines; but the mystery was solved when I tried to pick up an animal which I myself had wounded. The granite was as smooth as pavement, and yet, when I seized the creature by the neck, it clung like birdlime to the ground, and required some force before it could be removed.

Although many other species of rock-rabbits or rock-badgers have been observed by scientific travellers, and although the animals take a conspicuous place in the fauna of Southern Africa, yet I have never come across any mention of this interesting circumstance. My observations may be discredited, but I have endeavoured to render them as accurately as possible, in the hope that future travellers will give further attention to the subject.

The largest specimens that I killed were females with young, and they measured about ten inches in length. They were remarkably like wild rabbits, of a grey tint; the males being much lighter, and having a sharply-defined white stripe running about two inches along the middle of the back. The females of this species produce two perfectly-developed offspring at one birth. The flesh is like that of a common rabbit, and quite as much requires an artificial dressing to make it palatable.

Other interesting animals find their habitats among the rocks of Mvolo. The pretty little tan-coloured squirrels (Sciurus leucumbrinus), with two white stripes on either side, of a kind which is often seen on the steppes of Nubia, are here very abundant. There are also swarms of agamas, nodding their orange-coloured heads; the movements of these creatures are anxiously watched by the rock-rabbits, which first utter a note of alarm, and then retreat as nimbly as marmots to their holes, from which they never venture far away. Not unfrequently have I waited half-an-hour before their heads have appeared again.

The inevitable Guinea-fowl, of course, was to be found running through the grass, also a kind of francolin, the cocks with tails erect, like little bantams. As my good entertainment in the Seriba made me independent of the chase for my sustenance, I only killed a few specimens of this pretty bird. Francolins, which abound in other parts of Africa, are very rare throughout the district of the Gazelle. On the third day after my arrival in Mvolo, I was once more on my feet and able to take an excursion to some rapids about half a league to the north-east. The river divides into three branches, and rushes impetuously over a bed chequered with blocks of granite. Two of the larger islands were covered with dense bush-woods, and a charming hedge of borassus-palm lined the banks. The main stream passes in equal parts through the northern and southern arms. The first of these forms a precipitous fall of fifty feet, and, wildly foaming, dashes into the hollow among the rocks—​the entire descent of the river at these rapids being at least a hundred feet. The river makes a bend round the Seriba, and a quarter of a league to the east, above the falls, it is once more flowing in its ordinary bed, which is a hundred feet wide. The smooth blocks of stone were as clean as marble, and the water between was as clear as crystal; the fan-palms and luxuriant bushes spread a cooling shade over the pools, and everything conspired to form a spot that might be consecrated to the wood-nymphs and to the deities of the streams. It was a place most tempting for a bath—​a pleasure from which I had been long debarred. The noxious properties of the waters which I had hitherto visited, as well as the dread of fever, had obliged me to forego all such pastimes; but now I thought I might indulge without fear of evil consequences. Fish are here so abundant, that whoever bathes is liable to find himself molested by their bites.

I rambled about the woods on the slopes of the opposite valley, and made many an interesting discovery. In great luxuriance grew a remarkable cucumber (Cucumis Tinneanus), which is covered by curious and long appendages. Throughout the district of Mvolo a shrub, which has already been naturalised in our conservatories under the name of Tinnea æthiopica, is particularly plentiful; its wood is used by the Nubians for pipe-stems. Its boughs, like those of the weeping-willow, trail to the ground. I gazed with silent emotion on a plant which seemed to mourn the fate of the brave traveller by whom, with her tender appreciation of the beauties of nature, it had formerly been delineated.

At a short distance to the north was pointed out to me the village of Dugwara, where the natives, as we could hear, were performing on their nogara.

I had now reached a point at which my route, for the first time since I left the Meshera of the Bahr-el-Ghazal, came in contact with localities whose position is pretty well determined. Mvolo itself had never been actually visited by its former owners, but in 1859 Jules Poncet, during the course of his extensive elephant hunts, had crossed the Rohl somewhere below this spot.[39] The route of the British Consul, J. Petherick, in 1863, lay along the opposite bank of the Rohl, and through Dugwara. My own surveys, corresponding as they did with other routes which had preceded my own, offered very satisfactory results; they agreed very accurately in establishing the position which had been assigned to the Meshera on Arrowsmith’s map[40] of Petherick’s travels between 1858 and 1863, so that I had occasion hardly at all to shift the geographical position of Dugwara. On all earlier maps the Meshera was invariably marked too, far to the west, and the Gazelle was carried half a degree beyond its actual length. The time I occupied, both on my outward and homeward journey, in the navigation of the river, allowed me ample opportunity to verify the correctness of these calculations of my own. I do not know what materials Arrowsmith had at command to authorize him in making the fortunate amendment; Petherick certainly did not agree with the alterations, and, according to his computation, the longitude of this section of his route on the Rohl would have been twenty miles farther eastwards than on Arrowsmith’s map—​a position which, for various reasons, must be improbable.

I had to undergo many little discomforts before leaving this interesting region. The black soldiers and slaves belonging to the Seriba thought that, because I was a white man, I must be the actual brother of the owner, and accordingly they came to me with all kinds of grievances. Contrary to the Controller’s orders, a number of Niam-niam soldiers insisted on following me everywhere, and I was obliged to remonstrate with them rather sharply, to make them understand that I could not permit them to join my people, and that my retinue was large enough already. The female slaves betook themselves for refuge to my hut, bringing their complaints of the rough usage they received from their angry owners, but which it was only too probable they deserved for their faithlessness. The Nubians, on their part, were loud in demanding judgment from me as to their claims on some or other of these runaway women. I can only say that I was very glad to make my escape, and to find myself afresh upon my journey to the west. I was accompanied by a small herd of cows, calves, and sheep—​a present from the controller, who, moreover, forced an excellent donkey upon my acceptance.

After a stiff march of seven leagues and a-half, through a district with few watering-places, and little interest beyond occasional clumps of the lofty kobbo-tree,[41] we were once more in the territory of the Mittoo, and had reached one of Poncet’s smaller Seribas, called Legby. There was a second Seriba, named Nyoli, about three leagues to the south-east, which I did not visit, as its inhabitants were all busied with a grand battue for elands. These Seribas in the Mittoo country had only been founded in the previous year—​they were on the direct road to the Monbuttoo, and had been intentionally pushed forward towards the territory of the Madi, in order to ensure advantageous quarters for elephant-hunting. The greater part of this region, which previously had been a sort of No-man’s-land, had been recently appropriated to himself by a successful coup of the enterprising Aboo Sammat. From Legby to Ngahma was another five and one-third leagues. The road descended, in a W.N.W. direction, straight down to the Wohko, which we now crossed for the fourth time. We had also to ford two other of the rivulets that traverse the country, which is a good deal broken by hills and eminences. The ground had been quite cleared by the burning of the steppe, and although there had been no rain, a number of perennial plants were sprouting up and covering the bare surface of the soil with their variegated bloom. Many of the trees, such as the Combreta and Butyrosperma, of which the flowers appear before the foliage, were in full blossom. Two especially attracted my attention, because they entirely fail in more northern regions—​these were the Xeropetalum, with its beautiful bright-red flowers, not unlike mallows, and the Stereospermum, which bore grotesque bunches of bloom, resembling red thimbles. They were both in their full beauty, and to some extent reminded me of the floral luxuriance of the Abyssinian highlands.

While in Ngahma, I heard that Aboo Sammat, with his entire fighting force, had withdrawn from Sabby, for the purpose of inspecting his numerous Seribas in the south. It was his first year of possession, and he had gone to feel his way, preparatory to the taxation of the country. Meanwhile, all provisions had been exhausted in Sabby, and if I had ventured to return thither, it would have been at the risk of being starved. I therefore myself resolved to pursue my course in a southerly direction, in order to cast in my lot with Aboo Sammat, until the time drew near for our expedition to the Niam-niam country. The first halting-place at which we arrived, after a march of seven leagues, was the little Seriba Karo, in the Madi district. The road passed to the S.S.E. by a small mound of granite, of which the sterile flats were inhabited by rock-rabbits; we then advanced over granite flats until we reached a spot where an extensive table-land lay open to the south. Once again we crossed the Wohko, and proceeded along its right bank. The river here has all the characteristics of a periodical stream, and was now standing in lagoon-like basins. The width of the stony bed, and the deep holes washed in the huge blocks of granite, which are covered to a considerable height with the mossy Podostemmonea, are proofs of the abundance and violence of the water in the height of the rainy season. Looking W.S.W., I was greatly surprised by the unexpected sight of some elevated rocky peaks. Amongst them, and about four leagues distant, was the point called Wohba, near Deraggo, which I afterwards visited. This isolated range extends as far as the Wohko, and there terminates in a ridge 80 to 100 feet in height. Near Karo the stream forms a defile 40 to 50 feet deep, enclosed by regular hills. The banks, which were very steep, were concealed by the impenetrable shade of magnificent trees (Hexalobus), reminding me very much of the true chestnut.

The Mittoo display a remarkable talent for music, and construct a great variety of instruments. The most important of these is a lyre with a sounding-board, not unlike the robaba used by the people of Nubia. The soldiers in all the Seribas manifest their African origin by the zeal with which in their leisure they practise the musical art. I noticed one of the Madi with a bamboo flute of quite an European pattern, and at my request he played what was really a very pretty air, which must have cost him considerable time and trouble to learn, so perfect were the separate modulations: when the Nubians heard him they paid him the compliment of saying that he played as well as any Frank musician in Alexandria.

From Karo I went on still southwards for three leagues to Reggo, another small Seriba belonging to Poncet’s company, and where the elephant-hunters were quartered. The road thither led chiefly through cultivated fields that had been planted with Penicillaria. I also for the first time observed the culture of the sweet potato (Batatas), a favourite food of the Niam-niam. This had a singularly sweet taste, and a purplish rind, which occasionally deviated into white; the largest tubers of this in the Madi country never exceed the thickness of a finger.

The Poncets had founded settlements in this part of the country in order to hold their own against the wide incursions which Aboo Sammat was making from his territory in the same direction. The company laid claim to the sole right of ranging the district, a demand which was only consistent with their original interest in the ivory produce. The hunters are called “Sayadeen,” because they are armed with huge rifles, which have been gradually introduced into the country from Khartoom. Only a few days previously they had killed two elephants, which represented a whole year’s success. In former years the Poncets had commanded the expeditions in person, and then a corps of these hunters would in a single year secure as much ivory as would equal the largest quantity now gathered from the aggregate of the Niam-niam lands. Although the period of which I speak was not more than fourteen years ago, these large collections have become completely things of the past. In the present Seriba district, it is now expected to make a journey of some days before there is any likelihood of catching sight of an elephant at all; the wary beasts, too, appear instinctively to know the regions in which they can be safe. They live to a great age, and I do not doubt but that all the oldest representatives of the elephant community have been at some time or other attacked by man, and that many have been actually under fire. In the Dinka country there are places such as I have already mentioned, in the woods of the Alwady tribe, where elephants may be seen during the rainy season. When I asked the Khartoomers why they did not go and get the ivory themselves, they always replied that such hunting would be a sorry failure, and that while they were shooting the elephants the natives would be shooting them.

In Reggo the soldiers were fond of breeding dogs, and the Seriba literally swarmed with the fat pups of the Niam-niam breed. I found, moreover, that the people managed to do a little quiet business for themselves by bartering dogs for slaves to the Mittoo. Dog’s flesh, too, they enjoyed as much as the Niam-niam, and the price given for an animal affords a proof of the relish they have for the dainty; the teeth form a favourite ornament for necklaces and stomachers.

The first of January, 1870, appeared, beginning a new link in the unbroken chain of time. It was the second New Year that I had commenced in Central Africa, and although for me the day passed quietly and with no rejoicing, yet I was filled with thoughts of gratitude that I had been spared so long. Although one cloud and another might appear to loom in the uncertain future, yet the confidence I felt in my acclimatisation enabled me with good courage to proceed upon my wanderings.

The next place that we reached was Kurragera, the most southern point of Aboo Sammat’s newly-acquired territory. The march had occupied about five hours, and on our way we had for the sixth time crossed the Wohko. Previously we had halted in the village of one of the Madi elders, who bore the melodious name of Kaffulukkoo; I had also the honour of an introduction to another chief, called Goggo, of whom I was able to secure a portrait. His imposing peruke was not of his own hair, nor indeed was it hair at all, but consisted of an artificial tissue of woven threads, which were soaked with yellow ochre and reeking with grease.

KURRAGERA.

Kurragera’s Seriba, like Aboo Sammat’s other settlements, had been entirely cleared of its soldiers, and only the local overseer of the Madi remained to look after the corn-stores. Inside the palisade were piled thousands of the bearers’ loads, each neatly packed into a circular bundle, and protected by the simple and effectual coverings made by the natives from leaves and straw. These packages contained a preliminary portion of the corn-stores. Almost every product of the soil that I have described in Chapter VI. was here to be seen, and in addition were the sweet potatoes cultivated by the Madi.

Aboo Sammat at this time, with his whole available fighting force, was encamped on the Wohko about three leagues to the south. With the help of 250 soldiers, and more than 300 Bongo and Mittoo bearers, he had put the entire country in the south and south-east, from beyond the Rohl nearly as far as the frontiers of the so-called Makkarakkah, under contribution. The tribes in the more immediate neighbourhood were the Madi-Kaya, the Abbakah, and Loobah, which manifestly occupied the same district to which, in 1863, Petherick’s agent Awat made an expedition. Many chiefs submitted voluntarily to the taxation; others remained hostile for a period, but afterwards surrendered all their stores to the enemy à discrétion. The region was so productive that the number of bearers did not nearly suffice to carry away the goods that had been seized. The enterprise was accomplished without any loss of blood.

I was compelled to stay for some days in Kurragera to await Aboo Sammat’s return, and began to get somewhat weary, as amongst the flora I could find little that was suitable for my collection; I had besides used up all the pencils I had brought with me, and was obliged to write with hen’s blood. Meanwhile, as in Awoory and Ngahma, I continued my study of the Mittoo language, and took a great deal of pains to unravel the intricacies of the Madi method of counting, to which I shall have another occasion to refer hereafter.

The butter-trees were now in full bloom. The milky juice that exudes from the stems of these trees reminds one of gutta-percha, which is a secretion of a species of the same order of plants (Sapotaceæ). I often saw the children making balls with the lumps of caoutchouc, which served as universal playthings. In 1861, Franz Binder, the Transylvanian, formerly a merchant in Khartoom, brought a hundredweight of this india-rubber to Vienna, but although the material turned out very well in a technical point of view, the cost of its transport was too great for it ever to become an important article in the commerce of these lands.

On the 7th of January, Aboo Sammat, with the greater number of his soldiers and bearers, returned to the Seriba. He wished to display his authority in a way that should make an impression upon me, and therefore set apart an entire day for festivities on a large scale. His people were divided according to their tribes into groups of 500, and each of these had to execute war-dances worthy of their commander. Aboo Sammat himself seemed ubiquitous; in a way that no other Nubian would have done without fancying himself degraded, he arrayed himself like a savage, and at one time with lance and shield, at another with bow and arrow, danced indefatigably at intervals from morning till night at the head of the several groups; he was a veritable Nyare-Goio, i.e., master of the ceremonies; here he was dancing as a Bongo, there as a Mittoo; then he appeared in the coloured skin apron of the Niam-niam, and next in the costume of a Monbuttoo: he was at home everywhere, and had no difficulty in obtaining all the necessary changes of apparel. Several of the Bongo of Sabby exhibited a talent for theatrical representations, and to the great delight of the Nubians they enacted the scene of how Aboo Sammat surprised and thrashed the Mukhtar Shereefee; they improvised a recitative accompanied by corresponding action, the purport of which was to tell how Mukhtar was hit with a stick, and tumbled into the straw hedge crying like a Deloo-buck, “ba mi oah!” (alas! alas!). Then followed the refrain, “Madrislalla, illalla, illalla.” Between the parts there was an incessant firing; the guns were loaded with whole handfuls of powder, so that it was several minutes before the clouds of smoke rolled away from the groups of dancers. The continual noise and dust tired me far more than the longest day’s march I had ever undertaken.

SPEECH OF THE KENOOSIAN.

On the following day the Kenoosian convoked an assembly of the newly-subjugated chiefs of the Madi, and in a long speech impressed upon them their obligations. I was a witness of the characteristic scene, and as the interpreter freely translated sentence by sentence to the negroes, I did not lose a word of Mohammed’s oration. With terrible threats and imprecations he began by depicting in the blackest colours the frightful punishments that awaited them if they should disobey his orders, while at the same time he plumed himself upon his magnanimity.

“Look you!” he said; “I don’t want your wives and children, nor do I intend to take your corn, but you must attend to the transport of my provisions; and I insist that there shall be no delay, or else the people in the Seriba will starve. You, Kuraggera, must go to your villages, and gather together old and young, men and women: get all the boys who can carry anything, and all the girls who bring water from the brook, and you must order them one and all to be here early to-morrow; every one of them will have to convey the corn to Deraggo; the bales are of all sizes, and each may carry in proportion to his strength. But mark you this: if one of the bearers runs away, or if he throws down his load, I will tear out your eyes; or if a package is stolen, I will have your head.” And here Mohammed lifted a huge weapon like the sword of an ancient German knight, and brandished it rapidly over the head of the Madi chieftain. Then turning to another, he proceeded: “And I have something to say to you, Kaffulukkoo; I know that Poncet’s people have been here lately, and have carried off two elephants; now how did they contrive to find them? Bribed you were, bribed so that you sent messengers to inform them where the elephants might be found. And you, Goggo, why do you permit such proceedings in your district? Now listen: if Poncet’s people come back, you must shoot them; this must not happen again, or you shall pay for it with your life; and if any one of you takes ivory to a strange Seriba, I will have him burnt alive. Now, I think you understand pretty well what you ought to do. But I have something else to say, just to caution you in case you may have any intention of injuring my people. Perhaps, as a Turk may be walking alone, the negroes may creep into the grass, and shoot him with their arrows: what of that? Rats may bury themselves in the ground, and frogs and crabs may hide in their holes, but there is a way, you know, to find them out; snakes may creep about in the straw, but to that we can set fire. Or, perhaps, you will try to burn the steppes over our heads: never mind, I can light a fire too, and you shall pay dearly for your treachery. Do as you did before, and run away to the caves at Deraggo, and I will shoot you there with shitata (cayenne pepper) from my elephant rifle, and you will soon be glad enough, half choked and stupefied, to come out again and beg for mercy. Or, supposing the negroes try and poison the shallow khor, and any Turks drink that water and die—​don’t be expecting to fly away like birds, or to escape my vengeance!” And much more there was in the same strain.

I had sent my cattle from Ngahma direct to Sabby, and, after laying in a sufficient stock of provisions, I prepared to return as soon as I could to my head-quarters, in order to have time to complete the necessary arrangements for the campaign in the Niam-niam countries. Before leaving Kurragera, I witnessed another amusing scene in Aboo Sammat’s endeavours to make the chiefs understand the number of bearers he required. Like most other people of Africa, the Madi can only count up to ten, everything above that number having to be denominated by gestures. At last some bundles of reeds were tied together in tens, and then the negro, although he could not express the number, comprehended perfectly what was required of him. Kurragera was obliged to furnish 1530 bearers, and being asked whether he understood, made an affirmative gesture, took the immense bundle of reeds under his arm, and walked off gravely to his village. We moved on through the day in company with an enormous train of 2000 bearers of both sexes and of every age. Keeping on continually in a northerly direction, after a march of eight leagues we reached the Seriba Deraggo. The Deraggo mountains were visible several leagues distant to the north, and afforded some desirable stations for verifying my route. By the side of one of the Roah tributaries, called Gooloo, which, however, we did not cross, we halted for a while, and I employed the interval in shooting guinea-fowl, ordinary poultry in this district being somewhat scarce.

DERAGGO.

For the first time since I had quitted Egypt, I spent the night in Deraggo without my bedding: the servant who had the charge of it had left it behind in Kurragera. On all my tours, I never failed in being extremely careful not to omit anything that without material expense could contribute to my health and comfort. I had learnt enough to know that the more the traveller contrives to spare himself exhaustion from fatigue, the more he will be able ultimately to perform, and the greater will be his security against the baneful influences of the climate. A perfect, or even reliable, acclimatisation is not to be thought of until after some years’ experience, and any attempt to hasten it by rash exposure, or by unnecessary hardship, is quite unavailing.

I spent one day in a visit to the neighbouring mountains, which, lying about a league to the east of the Seriba, extended for about three leagues to the north-east. The loftiest and most southerly peak is called Wohba, and is about 500 feet high: it contains some remarkable caves, which I had not time to visit; they were the same referred to by Aboo Sammat when he threatened to drive out the Madi with pepper-dust, a hint which might be taken by any future general who may desire to smoke out the unhappy Bedouins from the caves of Algeria. I contented myself with mounting an eminence about 300 feet high, called Yongah. The western horizon and the mountains of Awoory were unfortunately obscured by a dense smoke from the burning of the steppe; but the little hills between Ngahma and Karo were distinctly visible. I also noticed in the W.S.W. a mountain known as Gere, which I afterwards saw again when returning from the Niam-niam countries, as I was passing along the basin of the Lehssy. The chain of Deraggo is formed of a bright-coloured gneiss. A valley broke in near the spot which I explored, and along the entrance the Madi had dug a row of pits forty feet deep for the purpose of catching elephants. Hither, from a wide circuit, they hunt the animals, which, hastily rushing into the valley, fall headlong into the trenches which have been artfully concealed.

The Seriba Deraggo was situated in the eastern part of a valley gently sloping towards the mountains. From the depth of this depression there issued an important brook, whose bed at this season contained a series of huge pools. We now again turned westwards towards the Roah, in order that I might visit Kuddoo, the last of Aboo Sammat’s Seribas, which lies exactly south of Dokkuttoo, and thirty miles higher up the river. We were obliged to make a wide détour to avoid the mountains, and, after a stiff march for five leagues in a W.N.W. direction, we at length reached our destination.

THE RIVER ROAH.

The Roah flows close by Kuddoo in a deep basin enclosed with forest, and describes a semicircle about the Seriba. The river was now from thirty to fifty feet wide; in the rainy season it is as much as fifteen feet deep, whilst in the winter its depth rarely exceeds four or five feet. The channel of the river was here entirely overarched with verdure; in some places the lofty trees starting from the dense woods met across the water, and formed bowers of foliage, whilst the fallen stems below made natural bridges. Very feeble were the rays of light that penetrated to the surface of the water, and the long creepers trailed from the overhanging branches. The force of the current caught the pendants, and made the tree-tops bend and the leaves all rustle as though moved by the hands of spirits. Large monkeys found congenial habitation in the branches, the river vegetation offering many of the fruits on which they can subsist. At times the beauty and abundance of the blossoms surpassed anything that I had seen. Pre-eminent in splendour were the brilliant Combreta: the masses of bloom gleamed like torches amid the dark green of the thickets, whilst the golden sheen of the fruit intensified the marked contrast of the tints. Any attempt to give a detailed account of the beauties of Africa is entirely unavailing, and once again I refrain from wearying the reader with any further repetition of my admiration.

Leaving Kuddoo, we marched for eight leagues near the left bank of the Roah, and across the numerous little water-courses that intersect the region, and flow down to the river on the right. At Degbe we re-entered the road along which we had travelled on our outward trip, and, passing through Dokkuttoo, we did not again quit our previous route all the way to Sabby. As we approached Geegyee, the spot notorious for the rapacity of the lion, my people betrayed an anxiety still greater than upon their journey thither, for in Dokkuttoo the intelligence had reached us that some lions had been again seen on the previous day, and that several travellers who had come across them in their march had only escaped by climbing up into the trees. This was a circumstance that painted itself upon my fancy in such entertaining details, that I could not resist the desire to see it acted out for my own amusement. Accordingly, when we had reached the densest part of the formidable forest, at a spot where the pathways were most crooked and intricate, I bellowed out in the most despairing accents I could command, the cry of “A lion! a lion!” In an instant the bearers had flung down their burdens, and my brave Nubians scampered off to the nearest tree. Nimbly as sailors up the rigging of a foundering ship, did they clamber high into the boughs. I enjoyed my laugh as I made them see what brave fellows they were.

We here saw in all directions the recent traces of numbers of elephants, which must have crossed our path in many places during the previous night. Our last bivouac was made on the banks of the Tudyee, where we feasted on the flesh of two hartebeests, brought down from among a number that had been feeding on the tender foliage of the underwood. On the last day but one of the march, I had more exertion than on any other of the twenty-four through which the excursion had lasted; without once sitting down, I passed the entire day in hunting and walking.

On the 15th of January I once more re-entered the hospitable huts of Sabby, and was welcomed by the servants I had left behind, and almost overpowered by the joyful caresses of my dogs. This tour to the east had altogether extended over 210 miles, and I had thoroughly explored the territory of a people who had hitherto been almost unknown, even by name. I will now take a retrospect of the country I had just left, and give a brief summary of my observations on its political condition.

THE MITTOO.

In default of a national designation for a group of tribes speaking almost the same dialect, and whose distinctive qualities appear mainly in their slight differences of apparel, I should prefer to follow the example of the Khartoomers, and call these people simply Mittoo; this name, however, only really belongs to the most northerly of the group, who call themselves Mittoo, or Mattoo, and there are four other tribes who consider themselves equally distinct and independent, viz., the Madi,[42] the Madi-Kaya, the Abbakah, and the Loobah. Their collective country lies between the rivers Roah and Rohl, and for the most part is situated between lat. 5° and 6° N. Towards the north it stretches far as the territories of the Dinka tribes of the Rohl and Agar; on the south it is bounded by the eastern extremity of the Niam-niam, where the name of Makkarakkah has already been adopted in our maps. But Makkarakkah and Kakkarakkah is a designation which the Mittoo use for the Niam-niam taken in the gross, and not the name of any single tribe. Out of their own mouth, whenever I referred to the soil upon which I was standing, I had every proof that the Mittoo call their land “Moro,” a name which Petherick on his map has attributed to the entire district between lat. 4° 30´ and 6° N., which extends eastwards from the Rohl to the Ayi.

All the Mittoo tribes are able to converse with each other, as their languages present only such minor differences of dialect as might be supposed would arise from their independent political position; the Niam-niam, on the other hand, with just the same plurality of tribes, preserve a uniformity of language which admits of scarcely any variety. The Mittoo dialects in some of their sounds resemble that of the Bongo, but taken as a whole, like all the distinctive languages of the larger nations of the Gazelle, the Mittoo and the Bongo have very little in common. As far as regards customs, dress, and household appliances, it must be admitted that the Mittoo tribes most nearly resemble the Bongo, and it almost might seem as if, in the history of their development, they formed a transition between them and the Niam-niam.

The subjection of the Mittoo to the Khartoomers must not be dated earlier than the year preceding my visit. Although the country in a limited sense had to a certain extent been partitioned amongst the arbitrary and advancing companies of the Upper Nile, and notwithstanding that its inhabitants had been in places reduced to a condition of vassalage similar to that under which the Dyoor and Bongo had been smarting for the last ten years, yet the entire subjugation of the southern tribes, the Loobah and Abbakah in particular, might still be described as incomplete. The Abbakah hitherto have been only occasionally subject to the incursions of slave-catchers and corn-stealers, and therefore they have neither the advantages nor the disadvantages, whatever they may be, of actual vassals.

In the scale of humanity all the Mittoo tribes are decidedly inferior to the Bongo: they are distinguished from them by a darker complexion, and by a bodily frame less adapted to sustain exertion or fatigue. During my visit to the Niam-niam countries, I had many opportunities of seeing large bodies of bearers of both races, side by side, and was then able to institute comparisons between the two. The Bongo vied with each other in their powers of endurance, and would subsist for a length of time upon mere roots without any perceptible change in their appearance, whilst the Mittoo under the same ordeal would waste almost to skeletons, and in a very short time would abandon all attempt at work. Even in their own homes I hardly ever saw them with the strongly-built frames of the sturdy Bongo. Nearly all the Mittoo who were employed as bearers were afflicted with the guinea-worm. An undesirable prerogative is this that the race have gained, that they should nurture such a thorn in the flesh; for the guinea-worm is far from universal, and makes selections as to what diversities of human nature it shall choose to patronise.

I failed to obtain any satisfactory explanation of this debility of the Mittoo; their land is very productive, they are diligent agriculturists, and they cultivate many a variety of cereals and tuberous plants, as well as of oily and leguminous fruits. On account of its fertility the land requires but little labour in its culture, and throughout its extent displays a productiveness which is only found for any continuance at rare intervals in the other countries that I visited. It is especially noticeable between lat. 5° and 5° 30´ N., in the districts on the upper Roah and Wohko, which are liberal stores for the sterile Nubian settlements on either hand. The district of the Mbomo, which is adjacent to that of the Nganye of the Niam-niam, between the rivers Lehssy and Roah, is also pre-eminent among its neighbours for its extensive growth of maize.

The Mittoo breed the same domestic animals as the Bongo, viz., goats, dogs, and poultry; they possess no cattle, and are on that account ranked by the Dinka under the contemptuous designation of “Dyoor,” which is intended to be synonymous with savages. They estimate the dog, however, in a very different way from the Bongo, and by their fondness for its flesh show that they are not many grades above the cannibal. Bernardin de S. Pierre, in his ‘Études de la Nature,’ gives it as his opinion that to eat dog’s flesh is the first step towards cannibalism; and certainly, when I enumerate to myself the peoples whom I visited who actually, more or less, devoured human flesh, and find that among them dogs were invariably considered a delicacy, I cannot but believe that there is some truth in the hypothesis.

MUTILATION OF LIPS.

The whole group of the Mittoo exhibits peculiarities by which it may be distinguished from its neighbours. The external adornment of the body, the costume, the ornaments, the mutilations which individuals undergo—​in short, the general fashions—​have all a distinctive character of their own. The most remarkable of their habits is the revolting, because unnatural, manner in which the women pierce and distort their lips; they seem to vie with each other in their mutilations, and their vanity in this respect I believe surpasses anything that may be found throughout Africa. Not satisfied with piercing the lower lip, they drag out the upper lip as well for the sake of symmetry.[43] To the observations I have made before about all African tribes that in their attire they endeavour to imitate some part of the animal creation, I may add that they seem to show a special preference for copying any individual species for which they have a particular reverence. In this way it frequently happens that their superstition indirectly influences the habits of their daily life, and that their animal-worship finds expression in their dress. It is, however, difficult to find anything in nature collateral with the adornment of the Mittoo women; and it surpasses all effort to understand what ideal they can have in their imagination when they extend their lips into broad bills. If our supposition be correct, the Mittoo fashion perhaps only indicates a partiality for the spoonbills and the shovellers with which these ladies may have some spiritual affinity. The projections of the iron-clad lips are of service to give effect to an outbreak of anger, for by means of them the women can snap like an owl or a stork, or almost as well as the Balæniceps Rex.

Circular plates nearly as large as a crown piece, made variously of quartz, of ivory, or of horn, are inserted into the lips that have been stretched by the growth of years, and these often rest in a position that is all but horizontal; and when the women want to drink they have to elevate the upper lip with their fingers, and to pour the draught into their mouths.

Similar in shape is the decoration which is worn by the women of Maganya; but though it is round, it is a ring and not a flat plate; it is called a “pelele,” and has no other object than to expand the upper lip. Some of the Mittoo women, especially the Loobah, not content with the circle or the ring, force a cone of polished quartz through the lips as though they had borrowed an idea from the rhinoceros. This fashion of using quartz belemnites of more than two inches long is in some instances adopted by the men.

MITTOO GARMENTS.

The women of the Madi correspond in their outward garb with the Mittoo in general; they make use of a short garment of mixed leaves and grass like the Bongo. The men adopt the same kind of skin covering for their loins as the Bongo, but they have one decoration which seems peculiar to themselves; they wear in front something after the style of the “rahad” of the Soudan or the “isimene” of the Kaffirs—​a short appendage made of straps of leather, ornamented by rings and scraps of iron; but it is so narrow that it has almost the look of a cat-o’-nine-tails. There are others who buckle on to their loins a triangular skin which has every variety of rings and iron knick-knacks fastened round its edge.

Occasionally there were to be seen some broad girdles covered with a profusion of cowries, such as the Niam-niam were said to wear; but hitherto the Madi were the only people I had met with who retained any value for cowries, which for some time had ceased to be held in much repute in the Gazelle district. The mode of wearing these conchylia was to split off their convex backs and to fasten them on so as to display only the white orifices.

Like the northern Bongo the Mittoo disdain devoting their attention to the decoration of their hair: men and women alike wear it quite short. The portrait of Goggo has already furnished a representation of one of their elaborate perukes.

The plucking out of the eyelashes and the eyebrows is quite an ordinary proceeding among the women. The men have coverings for their head the same as the Niam-niam. The accompanying portrait of Ngahma shows such an article of headgear, suggesting the comparison either of a Russian coachman’s hat, or of the cap of a mandarin. They are very fond likewise of fixing a number of iron spikes to a plate which they fasten behind the head, and to these they attach strings of beads and tufts of hair. The Madi make also a sort of cap rather prettily ornamented with coloured beads and which fits the head tight like a skull-cap.

It is only among the men that tattooing is practised on a large scale, the lines usually radiating from the belly in the direction of the shoulders like the buttons on certain uniforms; the women merely have a couple of parallel rows of dotted lines upon the forehead. The variety is very great of the ornaments which they construct out of iron and copper, consisting of bells, drops, small axes and anchors, diminutive rings, and platters, and trinkets of every sort. All the women wear a host of rings in their ears.

MITTOO ORNAMENTS.

These tribes have the same liking for iron chains as the Niam-niam and the Monbuttoo. Whatever they attach to their bodies they attach by chains; and they are very inventive in their designs for armlets and rings for the ankles. The armlets very often have a projecting rim, which is provided with a number of spikes or teeth, which apparently have no other object than to make a single combat as effective as possible.

Even amongst these uncultured children of nature, human pride crops up amongst the fetters of fashion, which indeed are fetters in the worst sense of the word; for fashion in the distant wilds of Africa tortures and harasses poor humanity as much as in the great prison of civilisation. As a mark of their wealth, and for the purpose of asserting their station in life, both sexes of the Mittoo wear chains of iron as thick as their fingers, and of these very often four at a time are to be noticed on the neck of the same individual. Necklaces of leather are not unfrequently worn strong enough to bind a lion; these impart to the head that rigidity of attitude given by the high cravats at which we wonder so much when we look at the portraits of a past generation. When the magnates of the people, arrayed in this massive style, and reeking with oily fat, swagger about with sovereign contempt amongst their fellow mortals, they are only as grand as the slimy diplomatists, solemn and stiff, who strut along without vouchsafing to unlock one secret from their wary lips. These necklaces are fixtures; they are fastened so permanently in their place that only death, decay, or decapitation can remove them. I was never fortunate enough to see the mysterious operation by which these circles were welded on, but I know that when the rings are soldered to the arms and ankles, fillets of wood are inserted below the metal to protect the flesh from injury.

MITTOO MUSIC.

Amongst the many particulars in which the Mittoo are inferior to the Bongo, it may be noticed that their huts are not only smaller, but that they are very indifferently built. Many of them could be covered by a crinoline of lavish proportions. In their musical instruments, however, and in their capabilities for instrumental performances, they are far superior to any of their neighbours. Instead of the great “manyinyee,” or wooden trumpet of the Bongo, they make use of long gourd flasks with holes in the side. They have also a stringed instrument which may be described as something between a lyre and a mandolin; five strings are stretched across a bridge which is formed from the large shell of the Anodont mussel; the sounding board is quadrangular, covered with skin, with a circular sound-hole at each corner. The instrument altogether is extremely like the “robaba” of the Nubians, and constitutes one of many evidences which might be adduced that the present inhabitants of the Nile Valley have some real affinity with the tribes of the most central parts of Africa. The flute is made quite on the European principle, and is most expertly handled by the Madi, who bestow much attention on mastering particular pieces. Small signal-horns made with three apertures are in general use amongst the tribes of the district; but the slim trumpet called “dongorah” is peculiar to the Mittoo; it is about eighteen inches long, and resembles the “mburah” of the Bongo. Music is in high estimation amongst the tribes which compose this group, and it may be said of them that they alone have any genuine appreciation of melody, negro music in general being mere recitative and alliteration. I once heard a chorus of a hundred Mittoo singing together; there were men and women, old and young, and they kept admirable time, succeeding in gradual cadence to procure some very effective variations of a well-sustained air.

The implements in general differed very little from the industrial contrivances of the Bongo. Their iron-work is rougher and clumsier; but they take a great deal of pains in forming their arrow-tips, having scores of devices for shaping the barbs. One of their ordinary utensils is a crescent-cut ladle with a long handle for stirring their soup.

Graves, for the most part are seen like those of the Bongo; they consist of a heap of stones supported by stakes, on which is placed the flask from which the deceased was accustomed to drink; both Mittoo and Bongo too, as might be conjectured, have the same method of disposing of their dead, and erect the carved wood penates which have been already mentioned.

The use of the bow and arrow gives the Mittoo a certain warlike superiority over the Dinka, and among their neighbours they are considered to surpass the Bongo in their dexterity in archery. Their bows are four feet long, and of an ordinary form. Like the Monbuttoo, who have shorter bows, they use wooden arrows which are about three feet in length. The heads of these arrows reach to the middle of the length. The Mittoo despise the cumbrous protection of a shield, but they are careful to keep a liberal supply of spears.