Laying out a garden à l’Européenne. Hunting adventure with a bastard Gems-bok. Death of Arslan. Physiognomy of the vegetation. Character of the soil. Geography of plants. Destruction of a Seriba by natives. Seriba law. Cattle-raids on the Dinka. Tour round Ghattas’s Seribas. Geography at Geer. Fish of the Tondy. Fear of ghosts in Koolongo. Caves of Gubbehee. Cental African jackal. Bamboos in blossom. Triumph of Nature over her traducers. Joint-stock distillery in Gurfala. Nubian love of drink. Petherick’s Mundo. Unsuccessful chase in the long grass. Two bush-antelopes. Cultivated plants of the district. Cereals. Large growth of sorghum. Leguminous fruits. Oily fruits. Tubers. Vegetables. Tobacco. Smoking in Africa.
I was again in Ghattas’s Seriba on the 13th of May. The arrival of an ivory caravan on its return journey had brought an unwonted animation. But for me very soon the ordinary routine of life came back, and one day passed on just like another in the closest intercourse with Nature. Except during some temporary excursions to the Bongo, this Seriba would be my residence for some months to come, and I set to work to make my quarters as comfortable as I could in a good-sized hut which had been vacated for me.
The first thing I did was to lay out a large vegetable garden, a task which engaged not only all my own people, but gave occupation to not a few of the black slaves of the place. I had not only brought with me a good supply of pickaxes and spades, but I had likewise a capital collection of seeds. Thus I hoped at once to provide for my own necessities, and to prove to the natives the productiveness of their soil. The plot of ground was nearly 200 paces square, and the next thing was to enclose it with a hedge of straw, and to lay it out with a series of parallel beds. The larger number of these beds I planted with the best sorts of maize, of which I had procured the original ears from New Jersey.
Seventy days after sowing I reaped the crop, and the ingathering did not simply answer ray highest expectations, but surpassed in quality the original stock; the kinds which seemed to succeed best being those which after they are dry are horny and transparent.
Tobacco from Maryland grew to an immense height, and I gathered several hundredweights of it. There was not altogether so much of a deficiency of tobacco in the country as of the larger leaves, of which use could be made for rolling into cigars. In Egypt the Virginian tobacco can be made to grow leaves as large as the palm of one’s hand, but in the negro districts the whole produce is quite diminutive. Negroes always sow tobacco under cover before they plant it out; the midday sun of Central Africa is too powerful for the seed, which infallibly perishes in a parched soil. I had always to guard against the same difficulty with all my European vegetables, especially in July, or at other times, when five or six days without a drop of rain would come in succession, and I only saved my young sprouts by having water brought twice a day by the women in their great pitchers. Worms did a vast amount of mischief amongst the germinating seeds, and no devastator was more destructive than the great millipede (Spirostreptus), which, as long and thick as my finger, penetrated the soil in every direction. The havoc made in this way amongst the beans before they were set was very considerable.
The hard, yet fertile soil, I feel certain, is quite suited for our cucumbers, cabbage, turnip-cabbage, and radishes. Of radishes, the European sort succeeds better than the Egyptian, which belongs to quite an anomalous variety. Melons and water-melons can only be ripened during the winter months, when they are artificially protected and supplied with moisture. Any attempt to grow them in the rainy season always results in failure; either the fruit is eaten by worms long before it is mature, or the leaves are devoured by grubs. Here, too, I trained some tomatoes and sunflowers, which ever since have been quite naturalised in this part of Africa. Had my sojourn been longer, I should have made an attempt at establishing the plantain, of which indeed I saw some isolated plants now and then in the Seriba. This is a natural production of the land of the Niam-niam; it would doubtless thrive here, but the indolence of the Nubians is so great, and their indifference towards all produce that must be gained by toil is so indomitable, that garden culture amongst them remains fitful and unprogressive.
When I had seen all the labours of the kitchen-garden complete, I was free to abandon myself to the full delights of the flora. Up with the sun, I used to take one or two of my people with me to carry my portfolios and my arms, and in the safe proximity of the Seriba I explored the woods for hours together, returning about noon with a whole treasury of floral wealth. My table at meals never failed to be well supplied, and I was treated as bountifully as in Africa I could be. I enjoyed sitting in the shade of some spreading tree, while I proceeded to analyse, to classify, and to register, the various novelties which I was perpetually finding. Later in the day I was in the habit of wandering out alone over the plains, whilst my servants at home busied themselves in renewing the paper for my hortus siccus, and in pressing out the plants afresh. This labour of the day was often carried on till quite late at night: it was repeated so often that my collection increased to a very considerable extent; roll was piled up after roll; everything most carefully stitched up in hides ready to go along with me on my farther journey, and to be carried across deserts and seas until they could finally be deposited in the magazines of science.
One of these rambles into the woods led to a singular hunting adventure, which could only occur in Central Africa. I had been sitting crouched up for half an hour or more under the shade of a butter-tree, in the midst of some tall grass, and, engaged in the dissection of my plants, I had quite forgotten where I was. My three attendants were enjoying, as they were accustomed, a peaceful doze; stillness reigned so supreme in the solitude that one could almost hear the tread of every emmet on the soil, as backwards and forwards it hurried to the laboratory within its hill. All at once a huge shadow came in sight, and looking up I saw, just within pistol-range, the great form of a buck antelope. I was struck as much with admiration as with surprise: the creature had seemed to come suddenly from the earth. My heart fluttered at the apparition, but I could not be otherwise than sensible of its beauty. It was a specimen of the bastard gems-bok (Antilope leucophæa). Except on the belly, which was white, its long hair was all of a brownish grey. It carried its head erect; its ears were long and pointed; its horns massive and very long; its black legs going off into white fetlocks. A stiff mane of bright brown crested its curved neck, and reached to its withers. It had a tail like the giraffe, with which it wisped off the flies—a tuft of hair of about nine inches in length appended to a long slim stem. There it stood, majestically, I might say, like a stately buffalo when it surveys the region all around before it trusts itself to feed. There it stood, in an attitude at once commanding and defiant. Whenever it moved the grass crackled beneath its tread, and ere long it shifted its place again and turned its full face towards me. I cautiously reached out my hand for a rifle that was lying near me, pushed back the guard, and, at the next movement of the beast, hit it with a ball right upon the shoulder-blade from a distance of about twenty paces. The creature reared itself up, then paused an instant, staggered, and let its head sink down as if amazed. I was just about to get hold of a second rifle when there came a sudden crash, and, while I was still sitting, the animal had fallen just beyond the open portfolio which was lying outspread before me. Fortune had thus cast the noble prey right into my clutches.
The sound of the rifle had hardly aroused my people, for this is a country where a stray shot does not attract attention for an instant; but my shout of surprise and delight brought them quickly to their feet. Some negroes were soon fetched from the neighbouring huts, who quickly completed the work of flaying and jointing the prey. Its head alone weighed 35 pounds. The natives informed me that the Mahnya (as the Bongo call this species of antelope) are among the rarest animals of the district, although they live as much in one quarter as another. They are ordinarily found singly and far separate from any other of their kindred race; and it is said that the largest of them will assail a huntsman, and are as furious when angry as a wild buffalo.
For a long time I was sorely depressed by the loss of my trusty Arslan, who had been with me ever since I left Berlin and had reached the remote wilderness. He had accompanied me through all the hardships of travel; and here I hoped that all dangers were passed, and now that the heat of the desert and the privations of water had been overcome, I had no fear of losing him; but he sank a victim to the treachery of the climate. My dog had seemed to me almost the last link that bound me to my home, and when I lost him I felt as though a bridge had been broken down which connected me with my native soil. It would have been a grief to me to lose my dog anywhere, but to lose him here was doubly sorrowful—here, amongst circumstances where he more than ever replaced the lack of a friend.
Nature, pure and free, must ever be a great consoler amidst all the disappointments of life. The stillness and peace of the plant-world brought ease to my troubled mind. To that world, as I turned then, I may be permitted to return now.
Nothing could more completely witness to the great variety of vegetation in my immediate neighbourhood than the fact that during my residence of five months I made a collection of almost 700 flowering plants, which I duly classified. It would not be possible in Europe during a whole year to gather so large a number if one were limited to the environs of a single town. From my own experience I am satisfied that, notwithstanding all means of intercommunication, it would be beyond the power of a botanist to secure anything like 500 species in an entire season. This would arise very much from his having to change his position, and from the varying time at which plants come into bloom: but here, in the land of the Dyoor and the Bongo, Flora seems to delight in crowding all her profusion upon the earlier months of the rainy period: the autumn is left comparatively barren, and even at the height of the rains there is little to be found which was not already in perfection some time before.
The land itself seems decidedly less varied than in the most uniform districts of Germany. Woods indeed there are, and steppes; there are low grassy pastures and shrubby thickets; there are fields and coppices; there are marshes and pools; there are bare rocky flats, and occasionally a rocky declivity; very rarely, and only in the dry, out-drained river-beds, are sands to be met with; and from these ordinary characteristics there is little or no deviation.
The features of the woodlands are, however, very diversified. There are trees which run up to a height varying from 30 to 40 feet, and these alternate with dwarf shrubs and compact underwood. Many of the fields are marked by single trees, which stand quite apart, and which have been intentionally preserved by the natives because of their edible fruit. In some places there are low-lying grassy flats, which in the rainy months are quite impassable, because the grass grows taller than a man; whilst in others the grass is stunted, because there is but a thin layer of soil to cover the rock below, and consequently vegetation is comparatively weak. As to the pasture-lands, they seem to be interrupted every here and there with bushy and impenetrable thickets, which are either grouped around some isolated trees or luxuriate about some high white ant-hill. In the shade of these are found the splendid bulbs of the Hæmanthus, Gloriosa, Clorophytum, together with Aroideæ, ground-orchids, and the wonderful Kosaria. Upon the drier spots within the forests, or where the clay-soil happens to be mixed with sand, weeds and herbaceous plants are found which recall the flora of the northern steppes. Amongst these are the Capparideæ, which (existing as they do in the south of Nubia) make good their claim to be a bond of union between the two zones. Pressing further into the thickets which are formed in the forests, we come across great trees so thickly bound by the wonderful foliage of the large creeper Carpodinus, that a ray of sunlight can never pass them. Here, too, are wild vines of many a kind, the festoons of which are further burdened as they hang by Dioscoriæ and Asclepiads.
Many are the comparisons that might be made by way of analogy between the numerous trees of this delightfully wooded district and those of our own home. Some of the trees at first sight have a considerable likeness to our common oaks: amongst these may be named both the Terminalia and the butter-tree (Bassia or Buterospermum). The fruit of the latter consists of a globular oily kernel, which looks something like a horse-chestnut, and which is as large as a good-sized apricot, and is enveloped in a green rind. This envelope can be kept till it is as enjoyable as a medlar, and is considered one of the chief fruits of the country. From the kernels of this widely-known tree an oil is expressed, which, under the name of “butter of Galam,” is a recognised article of commerce in Gambia; it has an unpleasant flavour, which makes it not at all a desirable adjunct to the table, and so, for us, it has but an insignificant value; its most valuable property is that, at a temperature of 68° Fahr., it becomes as solid as tallow. The tree itself is very handsome, having a bark which is regularly marked by polygonal rifts in its surface, and which permits it to be likened to an oak.
A very common tree, which bears a somewhat striking resemblance to our white beech, is the small-leaved Anogeissus. Nut-trees are here replaced by Kigelia and Odina. Far spread as are trees of the character of our oak, so too we may say are trees which have the look of a horse-chestnut. Of this kind is the Vitex Cienkowskii, with others of the species, of which the sweet olive-shaped fruit is gathered as assiduously by the natives as by the wart-hogs, who relish it exceedingly. Another favourite fruit is the produce of the Diospyros mespiliformis. The plane-tree may here be said to be represented, equally with respect to its bark, its foliage, and the pattern of its leaves, by the splendid Sterculia tomentosa, which has established itself pretty generally throughout Tropical Africa. In the place of willows Africa offers the Anaphrenium; and over and over again the traveller may fancy that he sees the graceful locust-tree. The Parkia is another of those imposing trees which are met with; the leaves of this are not unlike the Poinciana, which is known also as the Poincillade or Flamboyer: its flowers are a fiery red with long stamens, and hang in a tuft; when they die off they leave a whole bundle of pods, a foot in length, in which the seeds are found covered with a yellow dust. The Bongo, as indeed do the Peulhs of Footah Dyalon in West Africa, mix this mealy dust with their flour, and seem to enjoy it, but it needs an African palate to conquer the repulsiveness of this preparation.
Many types of vegetation, however, abound, to which we are altogether unaccustomed, and can exhibit nothing which appears to correspond. It is not only by the exuberance and dignity of their forms that these are marked, but still more by the novelty and grace with which Nature seems to have invested them. No European production in any way represents the Anona senegalensis, with its large blue-green leaf and its small fruit. This fruit contains an aromatic dark red pulp, and in a modest degree it displays something of that captivating quality which has exalted its kindred plant, the Cherimoyer of Peru, to its high repute as the queen of fruits. It must be owned, however, that it is difficult to secure a well-developed example of this fruit, for so keenly is it spied out and devoured by the birds that often for months together it may be sought in vain.
Much more singular is the magnificent candelabra-euphorbia, which follows the pattern of its prototype, the American cactus. Palms are not frequent enough to play any important part in the scenery, or to demand any particular specification. Groups of the Borassus are observed near the river-banks, and the Phœnix spinosa, the original of the date-palm, grows upon the marshes of the steppe. Next must be mentioned the varieties of fig-trees, with their leathery leaves, and, associated with them, those chief characteristics of African vegetation, the Combreta and the Rubiaceæ; tamarinds with their thick tubular corollas, and shrubby Gardeniæ, dwarf and contorted. It was the southern limit of the acacias of the White Nile; and only in isolated cases was the stem of the Balanites to be seen, lingering, as it were, on the steppes of Nubia. Even the tamarind had become scarce, and farther south I did not meet with it at all.
In its general character the flora of this district seems to conform very much to what has been discovered on the table-land of Western Africa, of which the lower terraces form a narrow belt along the shore, and are distinguished for the wild luxuriance with which the African primeval forest seeks to rival the splendour of Brazilian nature. In contrast to this, the bush-forests in the higher parts of Tropical Africa, broken by the steppes, present in uniformity perhaps the most extensive district that could be pointed out in the whole geography of vegetation. Extending, as it does, from Senegal to the Zambesi, and from Abyssinia to Benguela, Tropical Africa may be asserted to be without any perceptible alternation in character, but that which is offered by the double aspect of steppe and bush on the one hand, and by primeval forest in the American sense on the other. On the west this is illustrated by the marked difference between the table-lands and the low coast-terraces, whilst in the interior it is exhibited by the distinction between the woods on the river banks and the flats lying between the river courses. Here, in the country of the Bongo and Dyoor, this, which may be designated as a duality, almost completely fails, on account of the small supply of water in the rivers and brooks; but in the land of the Niam-niam it is again very striking.
Limited as have been the botanical collections of the few who have explored this immense region, they are still sufficient to justify us in estimating the relative abundance of species. When the collections from Java and Brazil are compared with those of Tropical Africa, it is certain that the plants of Africa are not altogether half so numerous.
It is not in the least below the most abundant tropical districts of the New World in producing timber trees. Trees and shrubs constitute quite a fifth of the entire production, and in the woods of the Bongo the variety of foliage is everywhere astonishing. Any tracts covered by a single species are altogether rare, and would exist only within the most limited range. This uniformity of Tropical Africa in comparison with the enormous space which it occupies, and the striking want of provinces in the geography of its plants which it displays, are the results of several agencies. On the one hand, it arises from the massive and compact form of the whole; and on the other hand, by an external girdle which keeps it shut up, so that it is not penetrated by foreign types of vegetation. This girdle is made by currents of the sea and long tracts of desert (the Sahara and Kalahari), and encircles it entirely. In the direction towards Arabia there is, as it were, a bridge into the regions of India, and, indeed, the Indian flora has a great share in the characteristics of its vegetation. The greater number of the African cultivated plants, as well as nearly all their associated weeds, have been, beyond a doubt, derived from India—a conjecture, equivalent to a prophecy, which Rob. Brown had formed at a time when little was known of the vegetation of Central Africa.
Already have I expressed my happiness at having thus reached the object of my cherished hopes—my satisfaction at thus finding life to be with me an idyll of African nature. My health was unimpaired, and never before had I been less hindered in prosecuting my pursuits. I felt alone in the temple of creation. The people around me were somewhat embarrassing. Their wickedness, with its attendant impurity, stood out in sad contrast to the purity of nature; but it did not much disturb the inner repose of this still life. In sickness everything is sad, and the craving for home is not to be suppressed; but whoever, in the robustness of health, can imbibe the fresh animation of the wilderness, will find that it stamps something of its unchanging verdure upon his memory; his imagination will elevate it to a paradise, and the days spent there will enrol themselves among the very happiest of his life.
One day in June there came back to the Seriba a company which had been sent out by the agent to fetch the ivory which had been stored in one of the minor Seribas of Ghattas on the Rohl, 130 miles away to the south-west. The proper place of embarkation for the Seribas on the Rohl, which are under a separate agent, is the Meshera Aboo-kooka, on the Bahr-el-Gebel, which is nearer than the Gazelle; but during this year the natives were animated by such a hostile spirit, that the shorter route was impracticable, and thus it was necessary to proceed to the banks of the Gazelle. In April the chief Seriba in this territory had been abandoned by the few men who had been left, after nearly all their entire garrison of a hundred men had been killed during a raid against the Dinka tribe of the Agar. The remnant, who had been informed of the calamity by some friendly natives, found themselves in a great strait. They could see no prospect of defending themselves, and were compelled to surrender all their stores and ammunition, and to escape under cover of night to one of the dependent Seribas. The main body of the troops were still out on an expedition to the Niam-niam country, and it was only the fear of their sudden return which deterred the Agar from annihilating the very last of their foes. They plundered and burnt down the Seriba, which has never since been restored. It was formerly the property of the brothers Poncet, although they were never known to visit it. Petherick halted at it whilst he was on his desperate march to Gondokoro, and inserted it upon his map under the name of Adael. Bad tidings travel quickly, and so it chanced that the intelligence of this disaster reached Khartoom before my letters; the details were related very indistinctly, and my friends were for a while under some apprehension about my fate.
In another respect a star of ill-luck seemed this year to have risen over the enterprise of the company of Ghattas. The season had drawn near in which the agents usually commenced their annual depredations in the districts of the Dinka to replenish their stock of cattle. As the various associations were entering upon mutual competition, in order to prevent disagreements, there was laid down a kind of Seriba law, which was pretty well the same everywhere. First of all, the territories immediately dependent were distinctly designated. Then it provided that the approaches to a meshera should only be used by those who could establish a claim to it. Nearly every Seriba has its separate avenues, upon which it levies a toll, and an avenue without tolls is not a legitimate highway at all. If any extraordinary companies desire to make use of these roads, they must first come to terms with the Seriba agents, who have the supervision of the right of way. Even chieftains who supply provisions to those who are on their transit, would be sure to attack them as foes if they were not first conciliated by being appointed as guides and dragomen.
Very similar was the arrangement that regulated all the expeditions which were undertaken against the Niam-niam. Each separate company had its own route and its own train of captains, who purchased the ivory and procured a market. No new-comers were allowed to intrude themselves into an established market, or to infringe upon its trade. Fresh marts could only be established by pressing farther onwards into the interior. These new establishments in their turn were subject to monopoly, and were rigidly protected. Whereever any violation of this rule occurred, there would be very serious conflicts—so much so, that amongst the Nubians the affray was very often fatal. This, however, would only happen while the contest was limited between one negro and another, for true Nubians at once renounce all allegiance to a leader who presumed to shoot a brother Nubian.
The Khartoom companies are most jealous of all their rights of cattle-plunder, alike in this region and in every other. The district over which the incursions of Ghattas ranged embraced the whole of the lower course of the river Tondy. During the previous year it was said that the total of the booty was no less than 800 oxen; but this year, although the aggressions were thrice renewed, the result was altogether a failure, and was quite a derision amongst the neighbours, being barely forty head of cattle. In vain had they explored the country west of the Tondy; to no purpose had they scoured the territories alike of the Rek and of the Lao; everywhere they were just too late. The Dinka had got intelligence betimes, and off they packed their herds and families to the inaccessible marshes. Their mere superiority in numbers here gave them the advantage, and they could hold their own against considerable troops of armed marauders. The whole Dinka tribe amongst them could hardly boast a single musket which could go off properly. Other companies, which had been more fortunate in plunder, were now ready to avail themselves of the opportunity to dispose of their superfluous cattle in barter for what the country afforded. Sometimes it might be for slaves, or for copper-rings, or sometimes (and this was a very favourite method) for bills of exchange upon Khartoom. Thus those who lived upon robbery were glad mutually to make a market of each other.
The mode of carrying out these raids may be thus exemplified: On the last occasion 140 armed troops, accompanied by a recognised train of some hundred natives, followed again by a lot of people with a keen scent for cattle of any sort, had set out upon their enterprise. In this cavalcade they had proceeded exactly as though their intention was merely to reach some Seriba or other. Then, all of a sudden, when they saw that the chances were in their favour, just at nightfall (deviating to one side, or even retracing their steps), they marched on till, generally at break of day, they arrived at the devoted murah. Having surrounded it, they began to beat their gongs and to fire away vigorously. They were so alarmed at the likelihood of hitting each other in the legs (for that is the general result of their firing) that they merely discharged a lot of blank cartridges into the air. This, however, was quite sufficient to intimidate the natives, who lost no time in making their escape through the gaps which the invading party were careful to provide in their ranks. In a general way the Dinka have no larger number of servants with them at their cattle-farms than is absolutely necessary, and, as I have mentioned, they leave their wives and children in outlying huts, so that these are very rarely exposed to the rapine of the invaders.
By the help of the negroes which they bring with them, the invaders soon make themselves masters of all the herds, and hurry back covered by the protection of the soldiers. To supply the requirements of a year it is necessary that they should secure by their raid at least 2000 head of oxen. Of the plundered property two-thirds belong to the authorities, the remaining third being assigned to the soldiers, who hawk it about and dispose of it as they please. A portion, however, is first allotted to the leaders of the negroes, to the overseers of the districts, and to the chiefs, which is ever an excuse for great rejoicing. The scandalous accomplices, abettors, and receivers of this odious commerce are those professed slave-traders, the Gellahba, who have succeeded in finding snug quarters for themselves in every Seriba, where they manage, like idle drones, to enjoy the produce of the toil of the industrious. Their transactions extend to calicoes, soaps, and head-gear; they deal in firelocks, looking-glasses, and onions; they can sell a few slaves, old or young, male or female; they find a market for rings and beads; they do something in amulets and verses of the Koran; very often they have on hand some bullocks, sheep, or goats; indeed there is hardly anything which chance does not occasionally throw into their line of business. Thus it came to pass that this year they carried on a thriving cattle-trade in our settlement. From the other marauding companies, whose luck had been better, they had acquired a considerable store of cattle, and they did not miss the opportunity of turning it now to their own advantage.
When I consider the ravages that are made year after year on so large a scale upon the cattle of the Dinka, and the enormous consumption of the Nubians, I confess that it is quite an enigma to me how the supply is not exhausted. Although I am aware that they never kill their cattle, yet the murrain of flies every season decimates their herds; and, besides this, their cows very seldom ever calve more than once, and very frequently remain utterly barren. Observations of this kind somewhat assist us in forming an estimate of the vast numbers of the people, since for the mere oversight and custody of the myriads of cattle there must be multitudes of men corresponding to the hand-to-mouth population of our civilised communities.
From the 21st of July until the 4th of August I made a tour, which gave me an opportunity of inspecting the subsidiary Seribas of Ghattas. My acquaintance with the country was thus materially enlarged. A march of about four leagues towards the south-west brought me again, by a road which I had not hitherto traversed, to Geer, where the fields of sesame were already in bloom. The sesame in this district all had white blossoms, while in the Nile country it as uniformly blooms with a pale rose-coloured flower, and this is by no means an uncommon feature in the flora of the region. I could exhibit a long list of plants which elsewhere are either red or blue, but here are invariably white; but I could not offer any satisfactory explanation of the circumstance.
Like all my other wanderings in the interior, this little excursion was made entirely on foot. To get along through the tall grass was anything but easy. The negroes tread down a sort of gutter, the width of their foot, and along these we made our way, as in a wheel-rut, as best we could. It was quite necessary to keep one’s steps verging inwards. Occasionally these gutters change their character and become water-courses, by means of which the adjacent steppes are drained. But the enjoyment of a luxuriant nature, with its perpetual change of scene, and the charms of novelty which presented themselves in the foliage, compensated richly for a little toil; and day by day practice made the trouble lighter.
This tour contributed in various ways to my stock of information. In Geer I met with the clerk from the Seriba destroyed by the Agar, who related to me the adventures which the sufferers had endured upon their flight. With a Faki from Darfoor, who had formerly visited Bornu and the Western Soudan, I had a long geographical dispute as to whether the great river of the Monbuttoo emptied itself into the Tsad, or flowed direct into the sea. The foreigner argued justly for the Shary, whilst I, on the other hand, was referring to the Benwe. I succeeded in stirring him and all the other interested listeners to a state of considerable amazement at my acquaintance with localities of which they had no knowledge except by report and which they hardly knew even by name. I told them about the whole series of states right away from Darfoor to the ocean. For about the hundredth time I had again to answer the inquiry why Europeans want so much ivory. The curiosity on their part is quite intelligible, as ivory is the unseen incentive which keeps alive the system of plunder practised by the Nubians, and I endeavoured to make them comprehend something about the handles of knives and sticks and parasols, the pianoforte keys, the billiard-balls, and the variety of other uses to which the material is applied.
From Geer, with its questions of geography, history, and political economy, I proceeded another league and a half, and came to Addai, where the whole armed force was employing itself most peaceably in the art of tailoring. In nearly all Mohammedan countries needlework is the business of the men. A short league brought me to Koolongo, past which there flows a copious stream, bordered by thick jungles 01 impenetrable bamboos, and which, not far from Addai, flows into the Tondy. The stream is singularly abundant in fish, and the Bongo were busy in securing their chief haul. They proceed very much in the European way of damming up the stream by weirs, and laying down wicker-pots of considerable size. The fishing, for the most part, is done twice in the year; first, at the commencement of the rainy season, and again when the waters begin to subside.
A large proportion of the fish captured in this stream is nearly the same as what is found in the Lower Nile and in Egypt; but some sorts are found which are peculiar; amongst which the fish-salamander (Lepidosiren) and some Siluridæ may be mentioned as representatives of the tropics in Africa. There is one kind of these called Kilnoky by the Bongo, and which is rather interesting. It reminds one of the species of the Auchenipterus or Synodontis, which are distinguished by their forked tail-fins. Another of the most frequent fish is that known as the “Besher” of the Nile, here called “Gurr” by the natives.[24] The elegant, large-scaled Heterotis niloticus, which the Bongo style the “Goggoh,” has a tender flesh and is of a good flavour. The river does not generally abound with fish which are desirable for food, but those which can be eaten generally belong to the section of the Characini; for example, the Hydrocyon Forskalii, which is here called “Kyalo.” This is a grey-streaked fish, glittering like pearl, in shape not unlike a salmon; it has red fins and a regular dog’s head, of which the lanky jaws, armed with conical teeth, amply justify the systematic name. Related to this is the “Raha” (Ichtyborus microlepis), which is noteworthy for its pike’s head, and the small-scaled Distichodus rostratus, or “Heeloo,” as it is termed. There is another sort which the Bongo call “Tonga.” Besides these there are the “Kalo” (Alestis) and the “Dologoh” (Citharinus). Of the perch, which plays so prominent a part in these waters, the silver-grey Lates niloticus, known as “Golo,” is very abundant, and perhaps still more so the “Warr” (Chromis), about the length of a finger, and of which there are several descriptions. The “Warr,” when first caught, is of a dark-green tint crossed obliquely by a number of broad dark stripes. The most common, however, of all the fish, and which seems never to fail in any of the marshes left by the retreating floods, are the sheath-fish, which belong to the Clarias species, the white flesh of which has a detestable flavour of the swamps; and the “Geegongoh,” which while they are alive are so like in colour to the brown slime in which they roll that they cannot be distinguished from it. A rare sort of the smaller fish is that known as the “Banghey,” and which belongs to the species of the Schilbe. Interesting, as being a representative in Africa of an Indian species, is the speckled grey and brown Ophiocephalus obscurus. It only remains to mention among the lesser sorts “Ndeer” (Ctenopoma Petherickii), the “Labyrinthi” of the Marango (Labeo Forskalii), and the “Möll” (Mormyrus cyprinoides).
There are two methods which the Bongo employ to preserve the flesh of their fish. Table salt they cannot get, but they substitute what they obtain from ashes. They cut the fish through lengthways, simply expose it to be dried in the sun, and afterwards hang it up to be fumigated in the clouds of smoke which fill their huts. Another way is to cut the fish up and dry it, and then to pound it all up in mortars until it is reduced to a jelly, which is rolled into balls about the size of the fist. These, with their high flavour, form a favourite ingredient in soups and sauces, which are entirely wanting in all other aromatic condiments.
In Kulongo so many ridiculous tales were dressed up for me about the wonders of the subterranean world, and of the abodes of evil spirits in the neighbouring caves, that I glowed with the desire to make their acquaintance. No one that I could find in the Seriba had ever ventured to visit the dreaded grottoes, and the alarm of the Governor was a great joke; after he had talked away for an hour, and declared he would accompany me, he ended by offering a handsome “backsheesh” to one of his subordinates to take his place; but his offer to go had been publicly made, and, as matter of honour, he was bound to attend me. We had to cross a stream ten feet in depth, and as, on account of an injury to his foot, he was riding an ass, the timid fellow found just the pretext he wanted to excuse his return; he could not allow his invaluable donkey to get a chill. In a party of eight, including myself, we set out towards the house of terror: three of my own servants, two of the soi-disant soldiers, and two of the natives who acted as guides. This company however, could not help considering themselves inadequate to face the peril, and as we approached the caves some extra negroes from the adjacent fields were pressed into the service.
Uphill for a while was our way from Kulongo, and on accomplishing the ascent we had before us a wide plain, and about a league away we could discern the spot, shrouded in a thick coppice, which was the object of our march. Reaching the entrance to the cavern, we found it blocked up through a considerable fall of earth, which apparently had been caused by the washing away of the surface soil by springs bubbling up from beneath; and the outside was so choked up by masses of underwood, that no one could suspect that there was a grotto in the rear.
When, fourteen or fifteen years previously, the first intruders made their way into this district, the story goes that hundreds of the natives, with their wives and children and all their goods and chattels, betook themselves to this inaccessible retreat; and that having died of starvation, their evil spirits survive and render their place of refuge a place of danger. Just as we had contrived to push a little way into the thicket, an idea struck one of my servants that he could be as cunning as his master. Finding that I persevered in my intention, he bethought himself of the bees on the White Nile, and so there rose the shout of “Bees, bees!” from more than one of the party. But they got some stings they hardly looked for: one good box on the ear, followed up by another and another, made their cheeks tingle again, and they were fain to proceed. I can still laugh as I picture to myself those nigger rascals resigning themselves to enter the shrubs, and I see them heaving a sigh, and looking as if they were ready to send their lances through the first devil they should happen to meet. I followed them on through the hazardous pathway, the darkness growing ever deeper. Stumbling on, we made our way over blocks of stone, descending for more than a hundred feet till we reached the entrance of the cave, which, after a low kind of porchway through the rifled rocks, arches itself into a spacious grotto, capable of sheltering some thousand men.
In place of any heart-rending shrieks of wicked ghosts, there was nothing more to alarm us than the whizzing of countless bats (Phyllorhina caffra), and thus at once the whole veil of romance was torn asunder. We reclined for a time in the cool shade, and then I invited the whole party to take part in a scene of conjuration, for which they were quite prepared. With the full strength of my voice I cried, “Samiel, Samiel, Afreed!” invoking the spirits of evil to put in an appearance; thus all pretext of fear from that quarter was put to rest; and now belief in ghosts took another shape, and the men pretended that they were terrified, because the cave was a lurking-place of lions; but as a fine brown dust covered the floor of the grotto, leaving it as smooth as though it had just been raked over, I asked them to show me some traces of the lions. They could detect nothing, however, but the vestiges of some porcupines, of which a few quills made it clear that other creatures besides ghosts and bats made the cave their home. That brown dust was a vast mass of guano that had gradually accumulated; I brought away a sack of it with me, and it worked wonders in making my garden productive, resulting in some cabbages of giant growth.
The rocky walls of the cave, dripping as they were with moisture, were covered with thick clusters of moss, which took the most variegated forms, and were quite a surprise in this region of Central Africa, where mosses are very scarce. A regular network of foliage, with long creepers and thorny brambles, filled up the entire glen upon which the grotto opened, so that no ray of sunlight could ever penetrate.
The Bongo give the name of “Gubbehee” (or the subterranean) to this cavern. I tried to creep into some of the crevices, but was soon obliged to desist, sometimes because the fissures were too narrow, and sometimes because the multitudes of bats came flying out in my face, and sometimes because the reeking ammonia choked me, and made further progress impossible. By some shots, however, which I discharged, I convinced myself of the magnitude of these rifts, which, within a few inches, were full of guano.
Full of spirits, we retraced our steps to the Seriba, and had some sport with the Governor about his pretence of the susceptibility of his donkey. When I asked him to accept a bet of 100 dollars that he would pass a night by himself in the cave, he was quite as bumptious as on the day before; but I moderated his enthusiasm by suggesting that his donkey, perhaps, was worth more than the 100 dollars, and that I was sure that the donkey could not stand the damp. The result was, that he declined the engagement, and cried off the wager.
These details will answer the purpose of showing what kind of heroes these cattle-stealers and men-hunters are. To them most literally applies Dante’s verse, when he speaks of the saucy herds who, “behind the fugitives swell with rage, but let these show their teeth, or even stretch out their purse, and at once they are gentle as a lamb.” Against the poor faint-hearted negroes they were valiant and full of pluck; but all their courage vanished into nothing when they came in contact with the Shillooks and Bari.
In Kulongo were wide plains covered with earth-nuts, which attract multitudes of the jackals of the country, which scratch up the nuts, and crack them with their teeth. The jackal (the “bashohm” of the Nubians, Canis variegatus) is one of the most common animals in Bongo-land. It is about the size of an ordinary fox, in colour being like a wolf, with black back and tail. They are pretty sure to be seen in the early morning, squatting comfortably down, and composedly enjoying the nuts. I knocked over several of them with heavy shot, and took care of their skins, which gave me some beautiful fur. The bashohm is very destructive among the poultry of the villages, doing even more mischief than the wild cat, which does not care to venture so near the huts.
From Kulongo I returned to Geer, from which it is distant about as far as from Addai. Half a league on the way we came to a spot where a deserted Seriba of Ghattas’s exhibited its desolate remains. The sight here was very striking; after penetrating the tall masses of grass, we found some self-sown sorghum, the stalks of which reached the astonishing length of 20 feet, being beyond question the tallest cereal in the world. The extraordinary growth was probably to be attributed to the manuring substances which, year after year, collect upon and fertilise the soil. The palisades of the old Seriba were still partially standing, and were hardly higher than the surrounding grass, and the ruins were overgrown with wild gourds, calabashes, and cucumbers. The bare frameworks of the conical roofs had fallen to the ground, and lay like huge crinolines: they served as supports to the growing pumpkins, and formed in this condition a thick shady bower.
The extensive wilderness derived a weird aspect from the strange stillness that pervaded the deserted dwellings. There was not a song from a bird, there was hardly the humming of an insect; it seemed as if Nature were revelling in her undisputed sway, or as if the curse of a prophet had been wreaked upon the abodes of violence and of plunder.
By the end of July all the bamboos were in full blossom. The grains are not unlike rye, and are edible, and, in times of dearth, have been known to form a substitute for the exhausted corn. When the fruit is mature, the long, ramified panicles have a very remarkable appearance, and the ears, clustered together at their base, radiate like an ancient whirlbat. Very rarely, however, does the African bamboo bloom, so that it is not often that it supplies the place of ordinary corn.
At an equal distance of about a league and a half from Kulongo and from Geer lies the village of Gurfala. The way thither led through perpetual marshes and was so interrupted by deep masses of mud that I had repeatedly to change my clothes. When the naked skin is exposed to the filth of the bogs, it is not only annoyed by a number of insects, some of them harmless enough, many of them most disgusting, but it is terribly cut by the sharp edges of the grass. This not merely causes considerable pain, but the wounds inflicted in this way are often very troublesome and slow to heal; they not unfrequently result among the Nubians in serious sores, and have been known to entail the loss of a foot. At every Seriba there will be found some who are suffering from this cause, and Baker observed the recurrence of the same evil amongst his people. As the same consequences do not occur in Nubia itself they are probably to be attributed to the effect of the climate. The backs of the negroes are not available for transport over any long distances of this fenny land, because of the insecurity of the footing; and in another respect this mode of conveyance offers little attraction; to mount one of the negroes is almost as disastrous to one’s white summer garments as an actual tumble into the marsh. Soap is not a common article hereabout, and must be used economically, and the traveller has to put up with a general wash about once in two months.
All the minor Seribas are really established for the purpose of overlooking the Bongo, and the sub-agents are always in trepidation lest there should be a sudden disappearance of all their negroes. It has not unfrequently happened that whole communities of the Bongo, quite unawares, have taken up their baggage, started off from their state of subjection, and, escaping the hands of their masters, have established themselves amongst the neighbouring Dinka. If they wish to cultivate corn for themselves, who could venture to blame them?
The Bongo name for Gurfala is Ngulfala, which indicates an earlier tribe of this race, which is no longer separated into various clans. Gurfala, I found, had its amusing associations. As in Kulongo it was the fear of ghosts for which the people had been conspicuous, so here it was the effect of a great brandy-distillery upon the inhabitants that entertained me. This distillery was kept by an old Egyptian, one of the few of his race who resided in the district of the Seribas. Out of an “ardeb,” or about five bushels of sorghum, he managed, with his rude apparatus, to extract about thirty bottles of watery alcohol. The sallow old Egyptian, whom the enjoyment of his vile liquors had tanned till his skin was as dry as parchment, was, as it were, director of a joint-stock company, of which the sub-agents and the soldiers in the Seriba were the shareholders, contributing their quota of corn to the concern. The apparatus for distilling consisted of a series of covered clay retorts, connected by tubes made of bamboo; the establishment for working was made up of a party of fat-bellied, swarthy women slaves, who had to pound away at the grain in a mortar; and as often as they paused for a moment to recover their breath, after their grinding exertions, they invariably panted till they reminded one of exhausted Cybeles. The chief material used was sorghum; the produce was a vile spirit. All the Nubians who settle here would abandon themselves very much to the use of brandy, if it could be more readily procured and if a continual superabundance were at their disposal; their fanaticism, however, is irreproachable; they rigorously follow the prescription of their law, and most scrupulously observe the Fast of Ramadan.
Together with the fresh relays arrived rows of spirit-flasks in their original packing (mostly made at Breslau), which are stored away in the magazines. These find their way from Alexandria and Khartoom to this remote corner of traffic. The agents drink their spirits neat, and cannot get it strong enough to please them; everybody else dilutes it with two-thirds water or mixes it with his merissa. In their drinking-bouts they used to besiege me with applications for some of the sharp radishes from my garden, which on these occasions they seemed especially to relish. What was most revolting to me about their intoxication was that they always preferred the early hours of the morning for their indulgence, and for the rest of the day became incapable of standing upright. After they were tipsy they were just as pugnacious as Europeans, but the excitability of the South would break out, so that manslaughter and death were not of unfrequent occurrence.
After a couple of days I took my departure from the huts of Gurfala, where a number of the Gellahba also have settled themselves, and I made my way over a short two leagues towards the west to Doomookoo, the fifth of the Ghattas Seribas. The route was over a firm soil, alternately bushwood and open steppe. The grass on the rocky level seemed to have a permanent character. All of one kind, and covering large tracts of country, it reminded me of the waving ears of our own cornfields. Although the region seems to be destitute of any continuance of trees, it far surpasses the European plains and meadow lands in the variety of its permanent grasses.
About half-way there was a pond made by rain on the rocky ground, which was covered with the large red-headed geese of the Gambia and a number of widow-buntings. Only during the rainy season do these birds quit the waters of the great Nile and find their way to the interior.
At Doomookoo I found the negroes all astir; an equipment was being made for an expedition to Gebel Higgoo, and, with the co-operation of Aboo Guroon, was to consist of a hundred armed men. Mukhtar, the captain of the troop, repeatedly assured me that he could reach his destination in about five days, and I was much disposed to accompany him. But there was in my way this obstacle, that I was obliged to get my correspondence off-hand; I had to write my letters for a whole year. The mountains Higgoo and Shetatah have been so denominated for some cause by the Nubians; Higgoo signifying a bandbox, and Shetatah being their name for cayenne pepper. They lie in a southerly direction from where we were, only a few leagues distant from that Mundo which is so often mentioned by Petherick; a spot which on every map is notoriously always pushed either backwards or forwards for several degrees, and originally, by those who professed to have visited it, was said to be situated on the Equator. The fact is, that Mundo is the name ordinarily given by the Bongo to a small tribe calling itself Babuckur, which has contrived to wedge in its position between the borders of the Bongo and the Niam-niam. On the eastern limit the Bongo denote the Niam-niam themselves by this name of Mundo. To the isolated hills of this border-land, such of the Bongo as could maintain their independence made good their retreat, and only in consequence of the contemplated expedition of the Khartoomers were they laid under tribute. During the present year the trading companies had established a number of settlements here amongst them, these advanced colonies being necessary for the security of the highways for traffic into the Niam-niam territory. Hitherto all the avenues for transit had been found liable to attack from the uncontrolled Bongo and from the Babuckur; but now the entire region was sequestered, and made a kind of preserve, on which the two companies could meet and monopolise their slave-plunder.
In one of the more extended low-lying steppes, overgrown with its mass of vegetation, I lost a whole day in vain endeavours to secure an antelope of that large breed which is found here, but which seems to elude all pursuit, in the course of the chase learning to discriminate a considerable number of species. Fate was here unpropitious. Manœuvre as I would, I could not sneak up close enough to get a shot. More than once I saw large herds of Leucotis, grazing apparently in entire repose; but every movement of mine was so dependent upon the formation of the ground, and every disturbance of the tall grass resulted in such a crackling, that to meditate a surprise was out of the question. If ever I flattered myself that I was gaining some advantage, and was getting close to the herd under cover of a detached bush, I was sure to be betrayed by the keen vision and disquietude of some stray beast that was hanging on the flank. Still greater were the obstacles that occurred if pursuit were tried in the drier tracts by the border of the lowlands. Here were seen whole troops of the Aboo Maaref (A. nigra), like great goats, with their sharp horns and their flowing manes, proudly strutting on the plain; but, times without number, on the first alarm they bounded off. No avail that their black wrinkled horns were right before us, rising and sinking in the grass, offering a mark indeed somewhat indefinite; no good that we crept on, three at a time, one taking the wilderness, another the thicket, and the third, step by step, getting through the marshy hollows—everything was ineffectual: just as we thought we were getting an advantage, either some one would fall into a hole, or would shake a bough that hung over his head, or would disturb the crackling stalks in the bushes, and all hope was gone; the signal of danger was circulated, and the herd were out of reach. These details will furnish an idea of the endless artifices by means of which the chase in the rainy seasons has to be practised to insure success. Wet through, and with clothes saturated with the mire of the marshes, extremely weary, and having only succeeded in sending one poor Aboo Maaref hopping on three legs after its companions, we returned at the close of our day of unsuccessful exploit.
The return to my headquarters from Doomookoo was a journey of about four and a half leagues. I found the way entertaining enough. Elevated dry flats of rocks came in turns with inundated lowlands; and after passing through pleasant woodlands the road would wind through open steppes. Game was everywhere most abundant. It was only necessary to withdraw for an hour from a settlement to get an impression that the whole of the animal creation had ceased to give itself any concern about the proceedings of man. Not one of the soldiers, whose lives are lavished by their employers in a hundred useless ways, finds the least enjoyment in the noble pleasures of the chase. They all shirk the trouble, and, even if they could get up the necessary perseverance, they are such bad shots that they could hardly recompense themselves for their exertion. Besides this they prefer the very rankest of their goats’ flesh to the choicest venison; partly it may be from the general uniformity of their diet, or partly perhaps from their religious aversion to eat of meat slaughtered in a manner that is not prescribed in their law; certainly it is very rare for them, in their wanderings, to partake of any game which they have captured.
There are two little antelopes which are here very common, and which roam about the country in pairs. One of these is the Hegoleh (A. madoqua) which appears to be found right through from Abyssinia to the Gambia; the other is the Deloo (A. grimmia), which is known also in the south. They are both pretty and lively bright-eyed creatures, of which the entire length is but little over three feet; they correspond very nearly to a small roe, or the fawn of a fallow deer.
The Hegoleh is all of one colour—a light tawny with a greyish throat, not so foxy as the Leucotis. The Deloo is of a fawn colour on its back, with a tinge of yellow in front; its flanks are nearly white, whilst its ankles are black. Its head is very expressive; a black stripe runs along it and terminates in a dark brown tuft; this gives to the female, which has no horns, rather a comical look, running up as it does into a stiff peak of about five inches long: in the males this growth is concealed by the short horns. Both kinds are distinguished by the glands of the lacrymal ducts.[25] The Madoqua has two pair of these, one pair set under the roots of the ear, making a triangle of an area of half a square inch; the other pair in the tear-pits composing a sort of pouch, about an inch long, which consists of a deep fold of skin, and from which is discharged a viscous and colourless matter. Above the tear-glands, towards the nasal bone, there projects on each side from the frontlet a thick pad about three inches long, which seems to have an adenoid texture, almost like a tumour. In the same way as with the Cervicapra, these tear-glands during any excitement open themselves like the nostrils of a snorting horse. The Deloo has only one pair of these glands, which lie horizontally in a narrow streak across the hollow of the eyes. Both kinds are alike in never venturing into the low grounds exposed to floods, and in preferring the rocky lands which are covered with bushwood. They often get into the middle of a thicket, and startle the huntsman by suddenly springing out, in the same way as the Ben-Israel or Om-digdig of Abyssinia (A. Hemprichiana). The flesh of both these antelopes is very indifferent for eating as compared with the larger kinds; that of the Deloo when roasted having a singular acrid flavour, which seems to suggest the unpleasantness of the glands.
Towards the end of August the sorghum-harvest commenced with the pulling of the light crop of the four-monthly sort, which had been sown in the latter part of April. But the general ingathering of the heavier varieties, which contribute chiefly to the supply of corn, did not take place until the beginning of December, after the rainy season was over. In Sennaar and Taka, sorghum requires five or six months to come to maturity, but in this district it rarely takes less than eight months. Both the early and late sorts commonly attain a height of nearly fifteen feet; the stalks of the former remain quite green, but the reedy stems of the latter become so strong and woody, that they are used for fences to divide one enclosure from another. Some of the varieties are scarcely inferior to the regular sugar millet (Sorghum saccharatum) in producing an abundance of saccharine matter; these are known to the negroes as well as to the Arabians of the Soudan, who chew the straw and so express the juice. The Bongo and the Dyoor express the pulp by means of wooden mortars, and boil it till it has the consistency of syrup. From this concoction I was able to procure a spirit which was far more palatable than what I should have obtained by distilling the sorghum itself.
Both varieties of the common sorghum,[26] which here abound in all their minor differences of colour, shape, and size of grain, yield well-nigh a dozen different descriptions for the market at Khartoom. The standard value is fixed by the Fatareetah, a pure white thin-skinned grain, which also is grown by the negroes in the Seriba.
All negro races that depend upon agriculture for their subsistence consider the cultivation of sorghum most important. Of the people among which I travelled, the Bongo, the Dyoor, and the Mittoo, were examples of this. On the other hand, among the southern Niam-niam and the Monbuttoo this cereal is quite unknown.
I could not help being astonished at the length of time which most of the kinds take to ripen. In some fields a portion of the stubble is left intentionally ungrubbed until the next season; this will die down, but, after the first rain, it sprouts again from the root, and so a second gathering is made from the same stem. No loosening of the soil is ever made, and this perhaps accounts in a degree for the tardiness of the growth. With the small spades, of which I have already spoken, shallow holes are sunk in the ground at intervals of about a yard: into these is dropped the corn, which then is trodden down by the foot. It is only during the first few months that any labour at all is given to the fields, just to remove from the surface of the soil the multitudes of weeds which will spring up. These weeds are gathered into heaps, and form the only manure which is employed in this lavish laboratory of nature. Never more than once is this weeding repeated; it is done by the women and children; and the corn is then left entirely to take its chance until it is time to gather it. On account alike of its tall growth and of its luxuriant habit, the men are careful not to plant it too thickly. The country does not offer many materials for manuring the land; if, therefore, greater application of labour or of skill should succeed in doubling the yield of every stem, there would ultimately be no gain. The soil, which already in many places fails after the second year, would only be exhausted so much the sooner. Such being the case, every project of ameliorating the condition of this people by enlarging their crop is quite an illusion; the land could not sustain a larger number than that which already resides upon it.
In my garden I made several attempts to sow wheat, but without much success. Probably I should have prospered better if I could have obtained some European seed: mine was from Khartoom, and it is very likely that the conditions under which it had been grown, amidst the flooded fields of the Nile Valley, on a soil far more soddened than that of this district, had been very injurious to the grain.
Very unwisely, not one of the Seriba governors has ever made an attempt to introduce into the district the culture of rice, for which the low marshy fields, otherwise useless, seem, very admirably adapted; but the people are not to be taught; vain the endeavour to initiate them even into a rational system of burning charcoal; and as to the culture of rice, nothing throughout the whole of Nubia was known about it. On the contrary, the expeditions which have set out from Zanzibar, and which have explored districts where the climate is not dissimilar to that of which we speak, have introduced the cultivation of rice over a very considerable area. The finger of nature itself seems to point out the propriety of not neglecting this product; in the whole district south of the Gazelle the wild rice of Senegal grows quite freely, and this I always found of a better quality than the best kinds of Damietta. During the rains the wild rice (Oryza punctata) environs many a pool with its garland of reddish ears, and seems to thrive exceedingly, but it never occurs to the sluggish natives to gather the produce that is lost in the water; and it is only because the Baggara and some of the inhabitants of Darfoor had saved some quantity, that I contrived to get my small supply.
There yet remain three kinds of corn to which a passing reference should be made in order to complete a general survey of the agriculture of this district.
Next to the sorghum stands the penicillaria, or Arabian “dokhn,” to which much attention is devoted, and which is cultivated here much more freely than in the northern Soudan. Sown somewhat later than the sorghum, somewhat later it comes to maturity.
A second substitute on the land for sorghum is a meagre grain, the Eleusine coracana. By the Arabians it is called telaboon, and by the Abyssinians tocusso; it is only grown on the poorest soils and where the ground is too wet to admit of any better crop. The grain of this is very small and generally black, and is protected by a hard thick skin; it has a disagreeable taste, and makes only a wretched sort of pap. It yields a yeast that is more fit for brewing than for baking; in fact, not only do the Niam-niam, who are the principal growers of the Eleusine, but the Abyssinians as well, make a regular beer by means of it.
Midway between the sorghum and the penicillaria must be reckoned the maize of the country, which only grows in moderate quantity, and is here generally cultivated as a garden vegetable in the immediate proximity of the huts. The Madi tribe of the Mittoo are the only people who seem to cultivate it to any great extent.
There is one quality which pertains equally to all these varieties of grain which are grown in these torrid regions; it is not possible from the flour which they provide to make bread in the way to which we are accustomed. All that can be made from the fermented dough is the Arabian bread, “kissere,” as it is called—tough, leathery slices, cooked like pancakes on a frying-pan. If the fermentation has gone on far enough to make the dough rise for a good spongy loaf, when it is put into the oven it all crumples up, and its particles will not hold together; if, on the other hand, the fermentation has not proceeded sufficiently, the result is a heavy lump, and this is the ordinary daily achievement of the natives, who pack up their dough in leaves and bake it in the ashes. The wheats of the Upper Nile Valley, and even large Abyssinian kinds, have the same property, which may arise from the small proportion of soluble starch which exists in all corn of the tropics, however large the entire quantity of the starch may be. The presence or absence of gluten in the grain is irrelevant, and cannot be an adequate explanation with regard to sorghum, of which the better kinds are richer in gluten than our wheat.
Next, after the various sorts of corn, the leguminous plants play an important part amongst this agricultural population. Cultivated frequently alike by the Dinka and Dyoor is the catyang (Vigna sinensis), which is grown by the Shillooks more plentifully than by either; but the Bongo have a great preference for the mungo-bean (Phaseolus mungo), which they call “bokwa.” The pods of these contain a little hard kernel, not unlike black pepper; in comparison with the catyang they are very poor eating. Wild representatives of both these classes of beans are almost universal throughout Africa, and demonstrate that they are indigenous to the soil. The best of all the beans is the Phaseolus lunatus, which is found of various colours, white, or brown, or yellow, and which in shape is like our own, although the legume is very short, and rarely contains more than two seeds. This is grown very freely by the Mittoo and the Madi, but the Bongo and the Dinka also give it their attention.
There are two kinds of these leguminous plants which are cultivated very extensively, and which fructify below the soil, that is, as the pods ripen the peduncles bend down and sink beneath the ground. These are the speckled pea-shaped voandzeia and the arachis, or earth-nut. Dispersed now everywhere over the tropics, the proper home of these is in Africa. The first is cultivated most of all by the Bongo; the single seed which its pod contains is mealy, but cooking does not soften it, and it is consequently very indigestible.
The earth-nut, on the contrary, is of an oily nature. It is seldom wanting amongst any of the tribes; in value it is almost a rival of the sesame, to the culture of which the Bongo give their care next to their sorghum.
Another oily vegetable product of the country is the Hyptis spicigera, which the Bongo named “kendee.” Once sown among cultivated plants it becomes a sort of half-wild growth, and establishes itself as an important shrub between the stubble. The Bongo and Niam-niam especially store large quantities of it. The tiny seeds, like those of a poppy-head, are brayed to a jelly, and are used by the natives as an adjunct to their stews and gravies, the taste and appearance being very similar to the hemp-pap of the Lithuanians. Just as poppy and hemp to the people of the North, so here to the natives the sesame and the hyptis appear a natural product so enjoyable that, without any preparation whatever, it can be oaten from the hollow of the hand, according to Boccaccio’s expression, “more avium.”
A very subordinate place is occupied in the cultural pursuits of these people by any of the tuberous vegetables. Various kinds of yams (Dioscorea alata, and D. or Helmia bulbifera) are found in the enclosures of the Bongo and of the Dinka, and are here and there cultivated in some measure like the maize, under the eye of the proprietor. The Niam-niam and the Monbutto, who devote more attention to the growth of tubers than of cereals, have a greater preference for the sweet potato (Batatas), the manioc, and the colocasia, and other bulbs, which to the northern people are quite unknown. All the yams in these parts seem to exhibit the same form, which is reckoned the most perfect in this production, lavished by bountiful Nature on man with so little labour on his part. The tubers of the Central African species are very long; at their lower extremity they have a number of thick protuberances; they are similar to a human foot, or rather (taking their size into account) to the great foot of an elephant. Some were brought to me which varied in weight from 50 to 80 lbs. The substance of the tuber, which is easily cooked, is light, mealy, and somewhat granulated; it is more loose in texture than our tenderest potatoes, and decidedly preferable to them in flavour.
The Nyitti (Helmia bulbifera), which are protruded from the axils of every leaf on the climbing sprouts, are in shape like a great Brazil-nut—a section of a sphere with a sharp edge. In their properties they correspond much with our potato, particularly as regards their taste and their bulk; but they never develop themselves into such mealy masses as the ordinary yams. Their skin is remarkably like potato-peel, and altogether their colour, sometimes yellow, sometimes a thoroughly purple-brown, adds to the resemblance. Very frequently these plants grow wild, but in that condition the tubers are quite small, and have a taste so pungent that they are said by the natives to be full of a dangerous poison. To a kindred species which is found wild, and which produces a horn-shaped tuber, we shall have to allude hereafter.
Just before the sorghum-harvest commenced the gourds were ripening, and came on as a welcome boon to the natives, who at this season were suffering from the usual scarcity. They devoured incredible quantities of them, and I saw whole caravans of bearers literally fed upon them. Of the ordinary gourds (Cucurbita maxima) there are two kinds, the yellow and white, which succeed excellently and attain a prodigious size. There is a kind of melon with a hard woody rind, which the Dyoor and the Dinka cultivate: when half-ripe, they cook and enjoy it as a palatable vegetable; it is generally of a cylindrical form, and about a foot in length. As it grows it assumes the diverse shape of the Cucumis chate, the cooking-cucumber of the Egyptians, which they call “adyoor” and “abdalowy;” by its wild shapes it seems to reveal an African origin. The leaves of the gourds are boiled just like cabbages, and are used for a vegetable. The bottle-gourds do not grow anywhere here actually without cultivation, but in a sort of semi-cultivation they are found close to all the huts. From the edible kinds are made vessels, which are quite secure.
As actual vegetables the Bongo cultivate only the bamia or waka of the Arabians (Hibiscus esculentus) and the sabdariffa. The calyx of the latter is very large, varying in colour from a pale flesh to a dark purple, and is used as a substitute for vinegar at meals. The bamia here is a larger variety of the Oriental vegetable; its seed-vessels before they are ripe are gathered and boiled.
Altogether unknown throughout the population of pagan negroes is the onion, which appears to have its southern limit in Kordofan and Darfoor. The equatorial climate seems to render its growth very difficult, and do what the Nubians will, they are unable successfully to introduce this serviceable vegetable into the districts of their Seribas. The tomato may well be considered as a cosmopolite, making itself at home in all warmer latitudes, but previously to my arrival it had not found its way into this region.
For the sake of its fibres the Hibiscus cannabinus is very generally cultivated here, as it is in the Nile Valley; but I observed that the Bongo have another plant, the crotalaria, an improvement upon the wild sort (C. intermedia), from which they make excellent string.
Compared with Africa in general, this district seemed very deficient in the growth of those spices which serve as stimulants to give a relish and variety to dishes at meals. Red cayenne pepper, for instance, is swallowed by Abyssinians and Nubians in incredible quantities in their soups, but the Bongo regard it as little better than absolute poison. Although the first-comers found the indigenous pimento growing in all the enclosures, yet the Bongo reckoned it as so dangerous that they carefully kept it in guarded spots, so that their children might not be victims to the deleterious effects of its bright red berries. The natives had been accustomed to poison their arrows with pimento, and I may mention this as one of the numerous proofs which might be alleged that much of the arrow-poisoning of Africa is quite a matter of imagination. When the natives witnessed the Nubians come and gather up the suspected berries and throw them into their food, their astonishment was unbounded; they came at once to the conclusion that it was utterly useless to contend with a people that could gulp down poison by the spoonful, and accordingly they submitted unconditionally to the intruders.
Of all the plants which are cultivated by these wild people, none raises a greater interest than tobacco, none exhibits a more curious conformity of habit amongst peoples far remote. The same two kinds which are cultivated amongst ourselves have become most generally recognised. These kinds are the Virginian tobacco (Nicotiana tabacum) and the common tobacco (N. rustica). It is little short of a certainty that the Virginian tobacco has only made its way into the Old World within the few centuries since the discovery of America. No production more than this has trampled over every obstacle to its propagation, so that it has been kept to no limits; and it must be matter of surprise that even Africa (notorious as it has ever been for excluding every sort of novelty in the way of cultivation) should have allowed the Virginian tobacco to penetrate to its very centre.
It is a great indication of the foreign origin of this plant that there is not a tribe from the Niger to the Nile which has a native word of their own to denote it. Throughout all the districts over which I travelled, the Niam-niam formed the solitary exception to this by naming the Virginian tobacco “gundeh;” but the Monbuttoo, who grow only this one kind and are as little familiar with N. rustica as the Niam-niam, call it “Eh-tobboo.” The rest of the people ring every kind of change upon the root word, and call it “tab, tabba, tabdeet,” or “tom.” The plant is remarkable here for only attaining a height of about eighteen inches, for its leaves being nearly as long as one could span, and for its blossoms being invariably white.
Quite an open question I think it is, whether the N. rustica is of American origin. Several of the tribes had their own names for it. Here amongst the Bongo, in distinction from the “tabba,” it was known as “masheer.” The growth it makes is less than in Europe, but it is distinguished by the extreme strength and by the intense narcotic qualities which it possesses. It is different in this respect from what is grown in Persia, where it is used for the narghileh or water-pipes, and whence there is a large export of it, because of its mildness and aromatic qualities. Barth[27] has given his opinion that the tobacco is a native of Logane (Mosgoo). At all events, the people of Africa have far surpassed every other people in inventing various contrivances for smoking, rising from the very simplest apparatus to the most elaborate; and thus the conjecture is tenable, that they probably favoured the propagation of the foreign growth, because smoking, either of the common tobacco (N. rustica) or of some other aromatic weed, had in some way already been a practice amongst them. To such a hypothesis might be opposed the important fact that on all the monuments of the ancient Egyptians that afford us so clear an insight into the details of their domestic life, there has never been found a written inscription or pictorial representation that could possibly afford a proof that such a custom was known to exist. In conclusion, it deserves to be mentioned that the pagan negroes, as far as they have remained uninfluenced by Islamism, smoke the tobacco whilst those who have embraced Mohammedanism prefer the chewing of the leaf to the enjoyment of a pipe.
[24] The illustration on the following page represents a young fish, about nine inches long, and is remarkable for the long, thread-like spikes of skin on the lids of the gills. This peculiarity has been observed in Senegal, and probably is only seen whilst the fish is young.
[25] The head of the Madoqua is represented as accurately as possible in the accompanying illustration.
[26] In all descriptions of sorghum, as given by travellers, there seems to be a considerable confusion with respect to the distinctive names of this ordinary cereal. It is called promiscuously “Kaffir-corn,” “negro-cane,” “bushel-maize,” “Moorish-mille,” or sometimes “durra.” Durra is an Arabic definition, which can be traced in literature as far as the tenth century. The etymology of the Italian word sorgho is altogether uncertain. Peter de Crescentiis, about the year 1300, is the first author who definitely alludes to corn under this name; whether Pliny meant to refer to it is very doubtful. The Germans in the South Tyrol, who are very limited in their acquaintance with cultivated cereals, call it, in their Germanised way, “Sirch,” whilst the Sclavonians corrupt it further into “Sirek.” In Egypt this sorghum is called Durra belladi, “durra of the country,” to distinguish it from maize, which is known as Durra Shahmi, or “Syrian durra.” In Syria itself, where the sorghum is little known, because rarely cultivated, it is simply called “durra.” Throughout the Soudan it has exclusively the appellation of Aish, i.e. “bread.”
[27] Vol. iii., p. 215.