Few there are who have not read of the glory of the southern heavens; rare is the traveller in the tropics who has not revelled in the splendid aspect of the great arch above when illumined by the shining of the moon. After a long hot march it may indeed happen that the traveller is far too weary and worn-out to be capable of appreciating the charm of any such beauties; in passive indifference, stretched upon his back, he turns a listless eye unconcerned upwards to the sky, till sleep overpowers him; and thus unconsciously he loses the highest of poetic ecstacies. Soon the heaven bedecks itself with countless numbers of fleecy clouds, which separate as flakes of melting ice, and stand apart: the deep black firmament fills up the intervals, and gives a richer lustre to the stars; then, circled by a rosy halo, rises the gentle moon, and casts her silver beams upon the latest straggler.

Meanwhile, far in the lonely wood, there has arisen, as it were, the tumult of a market; the gossip of the chatterers is interrupted now and then by the authoritative word of command of some superior officer, while many a camp-fire is kindled and illuminates the distant scene. To protect himself against the chilly air of night, each separate bearer takes what pains he can, using what ashes he can get for his covering. Wreaths of smoke hover over the encampment, a sense of burning oppresses the eyes and makes sleep all but impossible, and thus the attention is ever and again arrested by the moving orbs in the heavens above. To the traveller it well might seem as if the curtain of a theatre had been raised, and revealed a picture of the infernal world where hundreds of black devils were roasting at as many flames. Such were my nightly experiences as often as I journeyed with a large number of bearers.

About noon on the third day, after marching about sixteen leagues from Kulongo, we arrived at Duggoo, the chief Seriba of Shereefee, who maintained some small settlements in this remote wilderness. Notwithstanding the almost unlimited scope with regard to space, he was on the bitterest terms of hostility with Aboo Sammat, his neighbour in the south. A regular mediæval feud had broken out between them, the nominal cause of the quarrel being that one of Shereefee’s female slaves had been maltreated, and, having taken refuge with Aboo Sammat, had not been restored; but the interchange of cuffs and blows had been the actual ground of the discord. When two months previously Aboo Sammat was despatching his ivory-produce of the year, consisting of about 300 packages, to the Meshera, it was seized by the negroes as it was being conveyed across Shereefee’s district. These negroes attacked the defenceless bearers and massacred several of them; others they wounded with arrows and lances, till the whole caravan was overpowered, and every one throwing down his valuable burden made a precipitate flight. The Khartoom soldiers belonging to Aboo Sammat looked quietly on throughout the fray, for no attachment to their master would have induced them to fire a shot against any of their brethren.

Aboo Sammat, with all his property, was now in the desert, 150 miles away from the boats. To enter into action against Shereefee he hastened to the west, and induced a number of the controllers of Seribas to repair to the scene of violence, and to insist upon judgment being passed at Khartoom. But to accomplish this purpose he had to travel hundreds of miles in a few weeks, during the rains, and before his task was completed the proper time for shipment had elapsed, the high waters had abated, and all his goods had to remain at the Meshera to await another season, exposed all along to the too probable attacks of the hostile Dinka. Aboo Sammat, so far from taking the law into his own hands, had proceeded in the most legitimate way to demand compensation; but Shereefee, not satisfied with the wrong he had already perpetrated, spurred on his negroes to make repeated incursions upon his rival’s territory. Sometimes he endeavoured to entice Aboo Sammat’s Bongo people to desert, and sometimes sent his own to commit all manner of outrage and depredation. Many of the poor natives, the shuttlecocks of the fray, lost their lives in the contention; and I enriched my collection of skulls by some splendid specimens which I picked up on my way. “This was the spot,” said Aboo to me, “where the thieves made their attack. You have seen for yourself, and should speak up for me.”

Approaching the neighbourhood of the hostile Seriba we made a halt in the open country, about half a league away. To put a good face on the matter, and to make an impression upon Shereefee’s people, everybody put on their best clothes, and Aboo Sammat’s soldiers came out in all the gay colours of the fresh chintz which had just been acquired from the stores of the Meshera. The Turkish cut of these garments contributed in no small degree to the self-confidence of the men, and the Kenoosian could fairly pride himself upon having a troop who, not merely in externals, but in general discipline, were far superior to the disorderly bands which, in dirty rags, were quartered at the other Seribas. Every precaution was taken to guard against a sudden attack, and patrols were sent out to protect the flanks of our extended line. Ambushed in the thickets some armed Bongo were actually seen, but these outlying sentinels as soon as they observed there was a white man in the caravan, having heard of my presence in the country, abstained from any exhibition of hostility. Thus unmolested we drew close up to the Seriba, and Mohammed’s party bivouacked out in the open country. Meanwhile I was received in the most friendly manner by Shereefee’s brother, who was here in charge, and there was no disposition to act towards a Frank in any way that might involve difficulty at Khartoom. But I could not help thinking how narrowly all my baggage might be escaping attack, and what a hopeless attempt it might be to recover it.

The whole district, as I have mentioned, had been gradually rising in terraces all the way from the Tondy; and only just before we reached the Seriba, which was named Duggoo, after the superintendent of the place, had we marched continuously up-hill for half a league; no flowing water had hitherto been observed. On the south-west and south-east were visible the highlands in the distance, whilst in front of them were elevations of from 100 to 200 feet above the level of the adjacent vale. One of these elevations was very close to Duggoo in the north-east, whence from a bamboo jungle there streamed in the rainy season a brook which fell into the Dyan. The recesses and caverns in the red iron-stone reminded me of the great grotto at Kulongo, with its swarms of fluttering bats (Phyllorhinus caffra) and vast accumulation of guano.

The wide stretch of country between the Tondy and the Dyoor, extending some seventy miles, had but three years since been a populous district with many huts; now, however, it had only a few scattered habitations of the Bongo, which were grouped in the vicinity of either Aboo Sammat’s or Shereefee’s Seribas. Since the Bongo have been expelled by the Dinka, nothing but elephants and antelopes have found their pasture in those wild plains, which have once been cultivated. Occasionally the ruins of the burnt villages were still extant, rising above the rank grass. Nothing survived as direct evidence of the habitation of men; what scanty remnants of dwelling-places the first conflagration of the steppes had spared, either the ants or natural decay had soon destroyed. The only remaining vestiges of the occupation of the land are due to the richness of vegetation, and this has left its characteristic traces. I could specify some fifty or sixty plants which correspond so accurately with the weeds of other cultivated countries that they are significant tokens of a former presence of men. The preponderating Indian origin of all these plants is very observable, and a better acquaintance with the geographical facts connected with them would probably be as trustworthy an indication of the various migrations of an uncivilized people who have no history as either their dialect or their physical development.

Five leagues away from Duggoo we arrived at Dogguddoo, the second Seriba of Shereefee, where he was then resident. Many a slough and many a marsh had we to traverse on our progress, the result of the rain which had been falling for months. Midway we paused for a rest beside the relics of a great Bongo village, where stood the ruins of a large fence of the same description as is seen around the present Seribas. In the very centre of the village had stood, as is commonly found, an exceedingly fine fig-tree (F. lutea), and there were besides, a large number of tombs constructed of blocks of stone and ornamented with strangely-carved posts; at some little distance was a number of handmills that had been left behind, destined for some years to come to be a memorial of the past. The spot, named after the previous governor, was called Pogao. Shortly afterwards we arrived at a charming little brook, known as the Mattyoo, which, under the shadow of a pleasant copse-wood, went babbling over its red rocky bed, making little cascades and rapids as it streamed along.

In consequence of the repeated burnings of the steppes, well-nigh all vegetation was now blighted and impoverished: in particular the higher districts presented an appearance of wretched desolation. Repeatedly, in the winter landscape of the tropics, there are seen trees standing in full foliage in the very midst of their dismantled neighbours; and the loss of leaf would seem to be hardly so much an unconditional consequence of the time of year as a collateral effect of locality or condition of the soil.

After having for months together explored every thicket, and day after day penetrated into the high grass on the river-banks, I could not suppress my astonishmant at the absence of every description of snakes. The Khartoomers suggest an explanation of this circumstance which I am not disinclined to accept; they conjecture that in this stony region there is a deficiency of that rich black soil which splits like a glacier in the dry season, and makes riding in the North-Eastern Soudan a very dangerous proceeding; and, consequently, that there is neither a way for snakes to escape from the fires of the blazing steppes, nor any of those lurking-places which are indispensable for their resort.

Incalculable in its effect upon the vegetation of Central Africa must be the influence of the annual steppe-burning, which is favoured by the dryness of the seasons. The ordinary soil becomes replaced by charcoal and ashes, which the rain, when it returns, as well as the wind, sweeps right away into the valleys. The rock is, for the most part, a very friable and weather-worn ironstone, and upon this alone has everything that grows to make good its footing. The distinction, therefore, as might be imagined, is very marked between vegetation under such conditions, and vegetation as it displays itself by the banks of rivers, where the abundant grass resists the progress of the fire, and where, moreover, a rich mould is formed by the decay of withered leaves. But even more than the impregnation of the soil with alkalies, does the violence of flames act upon the configuration of plants in general. Trees with immense stems, taking fire at the parts where they are lifeless through age, will die entirely; and, where the grass is exceptionally heavy, the fresh after-growth will perish at the roots, or in other places will be either crippled or stunted. Hence arises the want of those richly-foliaged and erect-stemmed specimens which are the pride of our own forests; hence the scarcity of trees, which are either old or well developed; and hence, too, the abnormal irregularity of form which is witnessed at the base of so many a stem and at the projection of so many a shoot.

Flowing without intermission, all through the year, close by Dugguddoo, there is a brook which the Bongo have named the Tomburoo. Its water hurries on at the rate of 170 feet per minute, its depth hardly ever exceeds three feet, while its breadth varies from 20 feet to 50. Its banks, about four feet high, were bounded by land subject to inundations corresponding to the measurement of the stream. At a league’s distance to the east, the general elevation of the soil began afresh. The environs of the Seriba of Shereefee were only scantily cultivated, as the Nubians and the Bongo lived by preference on the produce of the plundering forages which they were accustomed to make amongst the adjacent Dinka tribes, the Ayell and the Faryahl, towards the north.

Exposing itself far and wide, there was the naked rock, the barrenness of which was only interrupted at intervals by a scanty covering of human bones! Carried off in groups, the captured slaves here succumbed to the overwrought exertions of their march. At times they died literally of starvation, as often there was no corn to be had in the barren land. The overland dealers in slaves make their purchases here at the most advantageous prices. In these eastern Seribas, as the result of the perpetual raids upon the Dinka, there is always a superabundance of the living black merchandise on hand, but very rarely is there an adequate supply of food for their maintenance. The traders proceed from Seriba to Seriba with their gangs, which they maintain on whatever provisions they can get on the way. Where destitution is an ordinary phase of things, it is self-evident that the traffickers, having no resources to support a lengthened journey, must, day after day, suffer considerable loss, and it is no unwonted thing for their gangs to melt away by a dozen at a time. Burnt bones of men and charred palisades of huts are too true an evidence of the halting-places of Mohammedanism, and, day by day, more and more was my imagination shocked by these horrid spectacles. In the very Seriba there was even awaiting me afresh the miserable sight, to which no force of habit could accustom me, of a number of helpless children, perfect little pictures of distress and wretchedness, either orphans or deserted by their mothers, and who dragged on a pitiable existence, half-starved, burnt by falling into the fire in their sleep, or covered with loathsome sores.

Turning short off, almost at a right angle to our previous direction, our way beyond Duggoroo, after seven leagues, over a country well-wooded and rich in game, led us to the borders of Aboo Sammat’s territory. Once again the land began to rise, and appeared to be all but barren in water-courses of any kind. As we went along I picked up, in a state of perfect preservation, several of the bleached skulls of some of Aboo Sammat’s bearers, who, wounded in the murderous attack by Shereefee’s people, had never been able to regain their homes. In a bag, which one of my attendants constantly carried, I had a collection made of a number of the great land-snails which, after the termination of the rains, abounded in this region. The two kinds which appeared most common were Limnicolaria nilotica and L. flammea; of these, the former is rather more than four inches in length, the latter rather more than three. They invade the bushes and shrubs, and have a great partiality for the tender leaves of the numerous varieties of wild vine. They serve as food for a number of birds, the Centropus monachus, the cuckoo of the climate, in particular having a keen relish for them. Their shells are as thin as paper, a circumstance which, like the brittleness in the egg-shells of hens, testifies to the deficiency of chalk in the soil. I was in need of soap, and the chief object which I had in taking the trouble to collect these shells was to obtain what cretaceous matter I could, to enable me to make a supply, no other method of getting it occurring to my mind. At night we rested at a poor Seriba called Matwoly, where we were received in some dilapidated huts, as the place, together with all its Bongo adjuncts, for greater security against the attacks of Shereefee, was about to be abandoned.

The wearisome monotony of the woods, now generally stripped of their foliage, was enlivened by the fresh green of the Combretum, which here long anticipates every other tree in putting forth its tender buds. Gaily it stands apart from the uniform grey and brown of the surrounding forest, thrown into yet higher relief by the yellow of the mass of withered grass below, and showing itself brightly from the half-shaded gloom of the wood beyond.

Although I had now advanced an entire degree nearer to the Equator, being now in a latitude of 6° 20´ N., I still found that the landscape around had charms to offer which were not inferior to the winter beauties of the distant north. In the early morning I delighted to see the rimy dew that had fallen on the sprouting grass, and which frequently remained as late as nine o’clock; over the feathery Pennisetum and the Agrostideæ it fell like a white veil, and the bright drops sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine. The slender gossamer, moreover, which stretched itself over the deeps and shallows of the soil, and even over the footprints in the ground, appeared to operate as a conductor of the dew, which congealed till it was like a film of ice which crackles beneath the tread of a traveller in the autumn.

Distant four and a half leagues to the south lay Aboo Sammat’s head Seriba, known as Sabby, the name of its Bongo chief. Half-way upon our march we crossed a considerable stream, which was called the Koddy. As we forded its breadth of twenty feet, we found the water rising above our hips. Here again the candelabra-euphorbia seemed to be abundant, after having never been seen since I left the eastern bank of the river Dyoor. An essential feature of the district between the Dyoor and the Kohl is contributed by the small mushroom-shaped ant-hills which, found as they are in many a part of Tropical Africa, here cover the stony surface with their peculiar shapes. Formed exactly like the common mushroom, the separate erections of the Termes mordax are grouped in little colonies. The main difference between the tenements of these ants and those which construct conical domes as tall as a man, consists in this, that they have a definite altitude, which rarely exceeds thirty inches, and immediately that there is no further space they raise new turrets and form fresh colonies. The materials, too, of which this species of Termes constructs its edifice is neither grey nor of a ferruginous red, but is simply the alluvial clay of the place: it is so closely cemented together, that it defies the most violent kicking to displace it, and is hardly less solid than brickwork. The natives are very glad to employ it for the construction of their huts; they break it into fragments with their clubs, and moisten it till its substance yields. By the Bongo it is called Kiddillikoo.

All the ant-hills of which I was able to make a survey were constructed upon the double-chamber system, the maze of cells being divided apparently into two separate storeys. Adequately to describe the marvellous interior of one of these haunts of the community would require a volume of itself. No labyrinth of coral could be more intricate; its walls are curiously cemented together, its chambers are most carefully arranged and most amply stored with vegetable produce, and there are magazines which teem with cakes and loaves. A regular series of bridges conducts from place to place, and many a crossway traverses the pile. To detail the wonders of these erections would tax the patience of the reader, and the study of a life-time would not exhaust the marvellous perfection of the organization which they present.

As might be conjectured, there is no want amongst these woods of ant-hills such as these, which have ceased to be occupied, and which consequently have been adopted as lurking-places by various kinds of animals that shun the light and lead a troglodite existence. Here skulks the aardvark or earth-pig (Orycteropus); here gropes the African armadillo (Manis); hither resort wild boars of many a breed; here may be tracked the porcupines, the honey-weasel, or ratel; here go the zebra-ichneumons and the rank civet-cats; whilst here, perchance, may be found what in this land is rare, an occasional hyæna.

Thus, after seven days’ journeying over a country all but uninhabited, on the 23rd of November I found myself at the head Seriba of my friend and protector, who received me with true Oriental hospitality. First of all, he had newly-erected for my use three pleasant huts, enclosed in their own fence; his thoughtfulness had gone so far that he had provided me with several chairs and tables; he had sent to a Seriba, eight days’ journey distant, to obtain some cows, that I might enjoy new milk every day; and, in short, he had taken the utmost pains to insure me the best and amplest provisions that the locality could supply. My attendants, too, who, together with their slaves, made up a party of thirteen, were entertained as freely as myself: everything contributed to keep them in good mood, and they were delighted jointly and severally to throw in their lot with mine.

The natives, when they saw not only their own superior, but the governors of other Seribas, treat me with such consideration, providing me with a palanquin for every brook, came to the conclusion that I was a magnate, and said to each other, “This white man is a lord over all the Turks”—​Turks being the name by which the Nubians here wish to be known, although before a genuine Osmanli they would not have ventured to take such a title. As Aboo Sammat used jocosely to remark, they were accustomed at home to carry mud, but here they carried a gun instead. It was a matter of congratulation to myself that the people already had arrived at some apprehension of the superiority of an European. It set me at my ease to observe that I had nothing to fear as to being mistaken by the natives for one of the same stock as the Nubian menials. Equally advantageous to me was it that the same impression prevailed amongst the Niam-niam and the distant Monbuttoo, to whose territories I was approaching, and accordingly I entered upon my wanderings under what must be considered favourable auspices.

Situated in a depression between undulating hills which stretch from south-west to north-east, the settlement of Aboo Sammat was surrounded by numerous Bongo villages and fields. Here he centred an authority over his Bongo and Mittoo territories which stretched away for no less than sixty miles. The residence of Aboo himself was about a league away, where he kept his harem in retirement, his elder brother having the charge of the principal Seriba. After I had settled myself as conveniently as I could, I began afresh my accustomed rambles, so that, in the same way as I had done in Ghatta’s Seriba, I might familiarise myself with all the environs.

At this period, when vegetation was at a stand-still, the flora presented little novelty, and whatever I found corresponded very much with what I had already seen in the district between the Tondy and the Dyoor. The woody places around Sabby were generally somewhat thicker; there was neither the same expanse of low steppe-country, nor the same frequent interruption of woods by grassy plains. Corresponding to this density of growth of the forests there was a greater variety in the fauna.

Meanwhile, amidst my investigations, I did not lose sight of my projected journey to the Niam-niam, and continually made what preparation I could. I criticised very diligently the muscles and measurements of the people, and very materially enlarged my vocabulary. Although I was only half-way towards the country of the Niam-niam, I found myself brought into connection with a considerably large number of them, and subsequently I was enabled in a degree to master their dialect. The report of the feud between Mohammed Aboo Sammat and Shereefee had extended to Mohammed’s outlying Seriba in the Niam-niam country, and had grown into a rumour that all his people had been exterminated by Shereefee’s agents. For the purpose of obtaining more reliable information the manager of the Seriba, ninety miles away, had sent ten young men to Sabby, and their strange appearance very much surprised me. Everything which I had hitherto seen of the people served to strengthen my conviction that they were marked off from the other population of Africa by a distinct nationality of their own. Even the Bongo seemed here to arouse my interest more than at Ghattas’s Seriba, where, on account of their longer period of subjection, they had gradually lost very many habits and peculiarities of their race. I spent accordingly a good deal of my leisure in making sketches of their dwellings and their furniture, and in my numerous excursions round the villages, I persisted in investigating everything, however immaterial it might seem, as though I were examining the vestiges of the prehistoric life of a palisaded colony.

The three slaves who accompanied me were now indispensable as interpreters. Apart from them I could have prevailed very little in overcoming the shyness and mistrust towards strangers which the natives continually exhibited: an exterior survey did not satisfy me, and I persevered till I gained admittance to the inside of several of the huts, so that I could institute a regular domestic investigation. Every corner was explored, and by this means many a strange implement was brought to light, and many an unexpected discovery revealed.

The granaries of the Bongo were now quite full, as the harvest was just over: all was consequently mirth and riot in the district, and many a night’s rest did I find disturbed by the noisy orgies which re-echoed from the shadowy woods. At full blast for hours together were the long wooden trumpets, the loud signal-horns, the huge trombones, and those immense drums for the construction of which the strongest timber has been selected from the forests. The powers of shrieking were put forth to the uttermost. Like the rolling of the breakers of an angry sea, the noise rose and fell: alternate screechings and howlings reached my ears, and hundreds of men and women seemed to be trying which could scream the loudest. Incapable of closing an eye for sleep while such infernal outcry was around, I went several times to inspect the frantic scene of merriment. Nights when the moon was bright were those most frequently selected for the boisterous revelry; the excuse alleged being that the mosquitoes would not let them rest, and therefore it was necessary to dance; but in truth, there was no nuisance of flies here worth consideration: I was not annoyed to anything like the same extent as upon my backward journey on the White Nile.

The following may be submitted as something like an ordinary programme of these soirées musicales. Slowly and mournfully some decrepit old man, or toothless old woman, begins with broken voice to babble out a doleful recitative; ere long first one and then another will put in an appearance from the surrounding huts, and point with the forefinger at the original performer, as if to say that this is all his fault, when suddenly, all together, they burst forth in universal chorus, taking up the measure, which they work into a wondrous fugue. At a given signal the voices rise in a piercing shriek, and then ensues a series of incredible contortions; they jump, they dance, and roll themselves about as though they had bodies of indian-rubber; they swing themselves as if they were propelled with the regularity of machines; it would almost seem as if their energy were inexhaustible, and as if they would blow their trumpets till their lungs gave way, and hammer at their drums till their fists were paralyzed. All at once everything is hushed; simultaneously they make a pause; but it is only to fetch their breath and recover their strength, and once more the tumult breaks out intense as ever. The license of their revelry is of so gross a character that the representation of one of my interpreters must needs be suppressed. It made a common market-woman droop her eyes and called up a blush even to a poor sapper’s cheek. Many of the people had iron rings about their ankles with balls attached, and these they rattled with such violence that their feet were bathed with blood.

Go where I might, I found nothing but lamentation over the impoverishment and desolation of the land, yet those who complained were themselves responsible for its comfortless aspect. Whilst, through the migration of the people, the country towards the north during the last three years had been changed into a wilderness, the Bongo, who clung to their homes and remained on their settlements, had not only lost their former wealth in sheep, goats, and poultry, but had even been too much driven to extremities to continue their cultivation of corn, and were sufferers from what was little short of famine. The Bongo asserted that in the first year that the Khartoomers committed their depredations amongst them, they were so terrified lest all their sheep, and goats, and poultry should be carried off, that, without delay, they had them all killed, cooked, and eaten. Eye-witnesses were not wanting who told me what had been the astonishing quantities of poultry that once had teamed in every village; but when there ceased to be any security for any one to retain what he had, of course there ceased to be any interest in making a store. If the harvest were prolific so that the granaries were full, the settlers would revel in indulgence as long as their resources held out; but for the greater portion of the year they had to depend upon the produce of the woods and upon the proceeds of the chase, which had often no better game to yield than cats, lizards, and field-rats. Not that there was any actual fear of starvation, because the supply of edible tubers and of wild fruits from the extensive woods was inexhaustible and not ill-adapted to a negro’s digestion, and because there was an abundance of the seed of wild grasses to be collected, which replaced the scarcity of corn.

In productiveness the land around Sabby was not inferior to the environs of Ghattas’s Seriba. The ears of sorghum here, as frequently as there, reached to a weight of six pounds; but at the same time the level tracts under cultivation were far less extensive, and in all the rocky places could only produce a smaller yield. The natives, however, never ventured to bring any of their grain to market, as I had been accustomed to see them: whatever anyone possessed, he cautiously kept out of the sight of the stranger. From all regular and systematic agriculture, the natives were as a rule debarred, because in the course of the year nearly every able-bodied man was compelled to go and do duty as a bearer, and consequently for months together was a stranger to his homestead, whilst he either plodded backwards and forwards to the Meshera, or was engaged upon the Niam-niam expeditions. Of copper, beads, and knick-knacks of every sort they managed to increase their store, but in agriculture they decidedly were retrograding. It was with them precisely as with their oppressors from afar: just as in Nubia, there was a destiny of evil being fulfilled upon the land, so here was the spectacle of a region degenerating from prosperity into neglect and woe.