Fatiguing enough we found our progress through the towering grass. The path was narrow, and it was very necessary to plant one’s foot firmly upon the stalks to avoid stumbling on the way. At length towards noon we arrived at the head-quarters of the chieftain, a residence which, in the language of the country, is called his “mbanga.”

I found myself at once encircled by the natives, who came streaming in to see for themselves the white man of whom already they had heard so much. It was my own first opportunity of seeing the Niam-niam in the reality of their natural life. As became a people with whom hunting is a prominent feature in their pursuits, they were girded with skins. High upon their extensively-dressed hair they wore straw-hats covered with feathers and cowries, and fastened on by means of long bodkins of iron or copper. Their chocolate-coloured skin was painted in stripes, like those of the tiger, with the juice of the Blippo (Gardenia malleifera).

Whilst I was reposing beneath an awning that had been put up as a shelter from the sun, the natives bestowed upon me such a prolonged and decided stare that I had ample opportunity for transferring a few of their portraits to my sketch-book.[45] In the early evening I paid my respects to Nganye, the resident prince. His abode consisted of a collection of huts, some larger than others, which he had assigned to his body-guard, and to the wives and children of his closest associates. The mbanga of a prince may be known at once by the numerous shields that are hung upon the trees and posts in its vicinity, and by the troop of picked men, fully equipped, who act as sentinels, and are at hand night and day to perform any requisite service. Military expeditions, surprises, conspiracies for murder, are here the order of the day, but frequently other and better employments will arise to engage them—​as, for instance, when the discovery is announced that a herd of elephants is in the neighbourhood. Then the signals must be sounded, and everyone without delay must be summoned, the occurrence being recognised as of national importance, for there is the chance of securing many hundredweights of ivory, and perchance ten times the weight of meat.

The shields are woven in pretty patterns of intermingled black and white, and are lined with royal leopard-skins. They are fastened by means of an iron knob on the inner side to the “trumbash” (an iron missile with three large projections), and altogether form really a striking sight.

Very modest in its pretensions was the court of this negro prince, and it had little to distinguish it from the huts of the ordinary mortals who had their homes around. The huts were circular, and had conical roofs which were unusually high and pointed, and were probably constructed to throw off the rain outside, as well as to allow for the dispersion of the smoke which was caused by the fire below. Surrounded by a dozen women, who with some household slaves superintended the tillage of the royal domain, Nganye had every appearance of enjoying a peaceful—​nay, it may be said, an idyllic—​existence.

I found him perfectly naked except for a little apron that he wore. He was sitting on a Monbuttoo stool, quite unarmed, and with no insignia whatever of his rank. There were, indeed, some twenty or thirty natives who were armed and kept guard in the outer court, but apart from this any pretension to state was entirely wanting. By means of my two interpreters I contrived to keep up a long conversation which I found interesting enough. I was made acquainted without reserve with all the details of Nganye’s family, and with all the particulars of his home administration. It was much that I came to him as a friend of Aboo Sammat’s. Aboo Sammat was to him a friendly neighbour, who brought to him as his chief an annual contribution of copper, beads, and stuffs; and the prince in return stored up for Aboo Sammat’s purchase all the ivory which the year’s exertions had secured. As regarded my own native land he did not exhibit the remotest curiosity; concerning the design and object of my journey no particle of interest betrayed itself in anything that he said nor in any question that he asked; and a similar remark may be made with respect to all the chieftains with whom I happened to be brought in contact. As everywhere else in Africa, a welcome is here given by reaching out the right hand; the middle fingers are joined and jerked together until they snap and crack again.

Whilst the cannibal magnate and myself were thus in solemn conference, and were ever regarding one another with that reverence which befits the representatives of noble communities, my retinue was being entertained with roast buffalo meat served up in pretty carved dishes. There was nothing palatable that could have been placed before me, and although Nganye, as subsequently Wando and Munza, accepted food from me, I never did from them. It is extremely unusual for Nubians and natives to take any meals in common, not so much from any religious scruple, but simply because it has never been the custom. In front of me, however, was placed a great clay vessel with four necks full of Niam-niam beer brewed from eleusine, which my Nubians enjoyed thoroughly as being stronger than anything they can get in their own country.

I presented Nganye with a great many necklaces of garnet-beads of the kind which had been prepared for the East Indian market. My own collection included no sorts except those which were quite novel in this country, having been provided not at all for the purpose of merchandise, but with the express object of making presents. Out of compliment to me, Nganye always wore my gifts as long as we remained in his locality, but, in the same way as other chieftains, he at other times systematically abstained from adorning himself with any foreign trinkets.

On the night of the 3rd of February some rain again fell, but it was not heavy enough to penetrate the grass coverings that we had improvised for our baggage. This was the third occasion on which we had now had rain, and although the fall had been very insignificant, in fact scarcely a quarter of an inch, yet the effect was so great as to be almost magical. Its influence alike upon the thirsty earth and withered steppes was very wondrous, and the sprouting stalks of grass bore ample witness to the invigoration that it brought.

A broad valley, alternately steppe and cultivated land, spread itself out around the residence of Nganye, and through its midst there wound a watercourse which now was dry. Over this we made our way; and mounting the opposite acclivity, proceeded one league onwards to the west, thus for the time reversing our previous progress. Black and barren were the burnt steppes at this season, when the elephant-hunting was all over, and they were unrelieved as yet by any vegetation. Literally our feet trod upon the embers of the burnt grass, very much to the detriment of my own white costume, and involving a large consumption of my soap that had been so laboriously procured from oil of sesame, burnt wood, and oyster-shells. Around the base of the charred bushes there were little lines of green where the young sprouting herbage broke through the earth, and now and then some opening blossom would give an unexpected beauty to the scene. It almost seemed as if these early-blooming children of Flora had been waiting for a few drops of the rain that they might escape from the womb with the remnant of the sap which it had yet to give. Upon the general gloomy aspect of the landscape these rare scattered blooms of course could make no impression; it was needful to seek for them, and bend low to find them; they were modest as the violet which seems to hide itself by the wayside, and yet has charm enough to detain the passer-by.

A charming walk of two leagues and a half brought us to a subsidiary holding of Nganye’s, named after its superintendent Gumba. The villages of the district were abundant in corn, and afforded too welcome a chance for the hungry bearers to resist making there their halting-place; the prospect, moreover, of brimming beer-flasks had its wonted attraction with the Nubians. The goal was full in view; a little ridge of hills beckoned hospitably from afar, and immediately beyond were the broad acres of cultivated land which belonged, to Gumba.

A region was this which rarely failed to supply charming halting-places, and we could take our noontide rest in shady yet breezy positions beneath the spreading trees. The tamarind, however, which hitherto had thrown over us its pleasant canopy during our way along the lonely desert, now failed entirely, and I saw it again no further to the south; so also Mungo Park’s butter-tree, which had been so prominent a feature upon the red soil of the Bongo and the Dyoor, now disappeared completely from the scene; but on the other hand there were here displayed as much as in the northern latitudes the Parkia, the Afzelia, the Vitex, the fig, and the Khaya, whilst with these there were intermingled many new and striking forms of incomparable beauty.

COLOCASIÆ.

The country hereabout was tolerably secure, the Niam-niam being desirous to secure Aboo Sammat’s friendship in order to ward off any mischief that might arise from the dangerous neighbourhood of Sabby. I considered it sufficiently safe to venture upon a little tour, attended only by my two Niam-niam servants. Directing my steps to the hill, I found that it was only like a hundred others, a pile of brown roe-stone, and apart from the open panorama it afforded, it possessed no interest at all. All along I gathered weeds and plants in ever-fresh variety.

Making at length our halt at a hamlet, my two companions drew my attention to a valuable production of their land. Underneath one of the granaries, which was supported in the usual way upon posts, was a great pile of firmly-pressed clay. On this an old woman was hammering with the pestle belonging to her mortar, and having knocked a hole, she drew out some tubers of a kind that I did not recognise. I afterwards found that it was the Colocasia, which is cultivated very freely throughout the Niam-niam country, and which when boiled makes a very excellent vegetable. The thick covering of clay is put over them not only to keep them moist in the dry season, but also to defend them from the ravages of rats, worms, and white ants. Whenever any of the tubers are required it is only needful to knock a hole through the clay, which can be plastered up again with a few handfuls of fresh mud. The same plan is also adopted in the rainy season to protect the crops from damp and rot; thus clay, everywhere abundant, is an universal antidote to the violence of nature.

As the darkness came on, our camp was enlivened by the appearance of the grotesque figure of a singer, who came with a huge bunch of feathers in his hat, and these, as he wagged his head to the time of his music, became all entangled with the braids of his hair. Altogether the head was like the head of Medusa. These “minne-singers” among the Niam-niam are known as “nzangah.” They are as sparing of their voices as a worn-out prima donna; except for those close by, it is impossible to hear what they are singing. Their instrument is the local guitar, the thin jingling of which accords perfectly well with the nasal humming of the minstrel’s recitative. The occupation of these nzangah, however, notwithstanding the general love of the people for music, would not appear to be held in very high esteem, as the same designation is applied to those unfortunate women, friendless and fallen, who are never absent from any community. Quite contrary to the practice of the neighbouring tribes, they have nothing to do with boisterous music, and only use their drums and horns for the purpose of signals. The minstrelsy of the Niam-niam may be said to have the character of a lover’s whisper.

Starting again and proceeding to the south, after an agreeable walk of about three hours, we arrived at the quarters of Bendo, a brother of Nganye, who had set him in charge of one of his best and most populous districts. The homesteads were all scattered over a wide and well-cultivated area, which extended with a northerly aspect along the declivity of an elevation of gneiss that rose to an altitude of about 200 feet. This hill was named Gumango; before we reached it we had to cross a considerable stream called the Rye, which throughout the year is always flowing. Uninfluenced hitherto by the rain, its breadth was now about forty feet, and its depth was sufficient to allow us to enjoy a pleasant bath at a spot where it ran beneath the shelter of some thick Psychotriæ. Tall popukky grass covered the banks, amidst which the splendid Nathalia, with its blossoms fine as those of a horse-chestnut, rose in all its beauty. The whole region, on either side the stream, was well cultivated, and look whichever way we would, we saw groups of farmsteads, although villages, in our sense of the term, did not exist.

Each family resides close to, if not actually upon, the land it cultivates. The insecurity of property is everywhere so great, that rather than relinquish their incessant watch over their crops, the people submit to many inconveniences and live far away from watercourses, put up with short supply of firewood, and brave the ravages of the white ants. Hostility, in this land, does not simply mean plunder and escape; the enemy is vengeful, and if he can carry nothing off, will damage all he finds, and destroy the rising crops.

The Rye empties itself into the river Sway, as the Dyoor is termed by the Niam-niam, although by the Bongo and Dyoor it is called the Geddy. Close to the rising eminence of Gumango, the Rye upon its left shore receives a considerable stream flowing from the marshy plains, along the banks of which are scattered numerous farmsteads surrounded by plantains. This was the first time I had seen the Musa sapientium in any quantities; just beyond the Nile district in the Monbuttoo country it becomes the very staple of the people’s food. The cultivation of the plantain seems to be a speciality of all the equatorial regions of Africa, from Uganda on Lake Ukerewe right away to the western lands on the Gaboon and Ogowai.

GROVE OF ZAWA-TREES.

Our encampment had been made to the north-east of Gumango in a great grove of Zawa trees (Lophira alata). Of this tree very few detached specimens are met with. It belongs to a class which flourishes beyond the range of the woods of the river banks, and will grow on a tolerably dry soil. Very noble is it in its growth, and so fine, that Colonel Grant has pronounced it to be the fairest memorial of his famous tour. Its bark is jet black, and it has a cylindrical crown of narrow quivering leaves, which vary in length from a foot to a foot and a half, whilst their breadth is rarely a couple of inches. Whilst it is young the colour of the foliage is purple, which subsequently changes to a deep sap-green. Every leaf is of a leathery texture, deeply wrinkled, and its surface smooth as if it were varnished. The blossoms repose in thick masses upon the extremities of the boughs; in colour they resemble those of the tea-tree, and emit a fragrant odour sweet as roses. It is one of the most serviceable productions of the country, as its fruit, which is about as large as a hazel-nut, yields a prolific supply of oil, of which the quality is singularly pure, while it is neither rank in smell nor coarse in taste. For my own part I much prefer the oil that is thus obtained to either that of the oil-palm, or of the butter-tree.

All the morning I pursued my botanising on the river Rye, and all the afternoon upon the sides and summits of Gumango. The arched surface of the rising mound of gneiss, stretching out without a rift, was the habitat of several very interesting ferns. Here I found the first specimen of Encephalartus which had ever been discovered in the northern latitudes of Africa. The joy of this surprise was no transient thing; but as often as the eye of the collector glances over the treasures he has brought from afar, it surveys a permanent memorial of his successful tour. The Ensete or wild Musa of Africa, which the Niam-niam call the “Boggumboly” (or little plantain) grows likewise in great abundance upon this interesting hill.

As surveyed from the summit of Gumango, the country, with the variegated colours of its cultivated enclosures, exhibited a thoroughly European aspect. Ploughed fields are nowhere to be seen, but the labour is limited to clearing out the weeds, and loosening the surface of the mould to receive the fine-grained eleusine, which no doubt requires more care than sorghum, which latter is sown broadcast.

All the farmsteads at this time had been deserted by their occupants, who had gone away and abandoned their well-stored granaries. Compared to the number of residences the store of provisions was very great, especially when the advanced season of the year is taken into account, for April was the month in which the new seeds should be planted out. One with another the huts had three granaries each, two of which were full of eleusine in its original condition, the remaining one being devoted to the same grain after it had been malted.

Everything testified to the fruitfulness of the soil. Sweet-potatoes, yams, and colocasiæ were piled up in heaps, and our hungry Bongo and Mittoo fell upon them as though they had entered a hostile country. The receptacles for corn, being circular erections of clay, supported on posts, and furnished with a covering which lifted up and down like a lid, were soon emptied, and the immediate neighbourhood of our quarters was like a scene of rapine and plunder.

NIAM-NIAM HUTS.

The arrangements of the Niam-niam huts are much the same throughout the land. Two, or at most three, families reside close together. Generally from eight to twelve huts are clustered round one common open space, which is kept perfectly clean, and in the centre of which is reared a post upon which the trophies of the chase are hung. Skulls of the rarest kind, splendid horns of antelopes and buffaloes, are attached to this standard, and, it must be added, skulls of men and withered hands and feet! Close in the rear of the huts, upon the level ground, were the magazines for corn; behind these would be seen a circle of Rokko fig-trees, which are only found in cultivated spots, and the bark of which is prized, far more than the handsomest of skins, as a material to make into clothing. Further in the background might be noticed a perfect enclosure of paradise figs; then in wider circumference the plantations of manioc and maize; and, lastly, the outlying fields of eleusine extending to the compound next beyond. I sketched several of the huts, which are embellished externally with black and white decorations. Several of the dwellings had roofs which rose upwards in two points; long poles projected from the peaks alike of huts and of granaries, and on these were strung rows of great land-snails (Achatina).

After some time we found Bendo himself arrayed in an apron of red flannel which had been given him by Mohammed. He looked very much disconcerted at seeing his property laid under such heavy contribution, but he was utterly helpless to arrest the havoc. The promise was given that Mohammed, when he arrived, would compensate him for all his loss by ample presents of copper rings and other gifts; and, as matter of fact, we found Bendo, at the time of our return, perfectly satisfied in his old quarters, and ready to show many proofs of the friendly interest with which he regarded me.

Besides Bendo and Gumba, Nganye had four brothers,—​Imma, Mango, Nyongalia, and Mbeli,—​who acted as his deputies, and had the charge of various districts. Intimidated by his alliance with Aboo Sammat, they were subservient to him with the obedience of vassals. There was, however, a seventh brother, Mbagahli, known by his Arabic name of Surroor, who was the direct subordinate of Aboo Sammat, and had been established in command of the wide country vanquished by him, which was bounded by the territories of Nganye, Wando, and Mbeeoh. Nganye had only two sons recognised as legitimate, Imbolutiddoo and Mattindoo, the former of which was destined to be the heir of his dignity. Nganye’s father was Moonuba, one of the six sons of Yapahti, who must not be confused with another prince of the same name whose territories lay to the south of Dar Ferteet.

On the 6th of February our march was maintained for a distance of six leagues until we arrived at the Sway. Whilst marching in single file it was very difficult to hold any communication with those who were before me or behind. Thus for a great part of the way I kept up no conversation at all, and had to obtain all my information about the country at the places where we halted, and where from the examination of several people I could learn the truth; going always upon the principle that in Africa what two witnesses state has some degree of probability, but when three agree, there is a moral certainty. As we proceeded, my attention was sufficiently occupied by observing the plants on both sides of our road, and every now and then I counted our steps in order to ascertain our rate of marching, the people, meanwhile, giving me the credit for muttering my prayers.

NEUTRALITY.

For the first and last time during our whole journey, I had a sharp contention with Aboo Sammat’s soldiers. Their conduct to the natives excited my indignation more and more every day, and an incident now occurred that thoroughly passed my powers of endurance. I could not without remonstrance allow one of the Nubians to maltreat the bearer that had been consigned to him by Bendo, and to strike him till his face was covered with blood, merely because he had broken a common calabash. But however much my sympathy with the negroes might make me a favourite with them, it could only be exhibited at the cost of a sacrifice of friendship with the Nubians, who were so indispensable for my comfort and necessities. I got the reputation of being a partisan and defender of the blacks, and more than once I was bitterly reproached because, as it was said, I reckoned the word of one negro of more account than that of ten Mussulmans. Under all similar circumstances, I learnt as far as I could to keep myself neutral, and thus happily I avoided much friction with either party. But it should be mentioned that I was never a witness of that abandoned cruelty and systematic inhumanity which the accounts of previous travellers in the lands of the Upper Nile might lead us to expect. A traveller to be just will take into consideration all the circumstances of the case and all the ameliorating particulars which may be alleged; but in the majority of these narratives, which make the hair almost stand on end, the judgment that is passed is not unfrequently warped and exaggerated. There is no justification for the pride with which we civilised people boast of our humanity. We have only to reflect upon the horrors that follow in the train of our wars, and if we could enfranchise ourselves from prejudice we should be compelled to allow that we are worse barbarians than all the Nubians—​nay, that we are murderers by deliberate intention, and destroyers of the happiness of the homes of thousands.

As ill-luck would have it, on this same day a bullet came whistling by close to my ear. Once before, during my stay at Fashoda, on the White Nile, as the reader may recollect, I had been in peril of my life through the excessive carelessness of the Nubian soldiers in handling their arms; and not only was the danger renewed now, but a few days later it was repeated for the third time. On this occasion a group had camped out on the side of the road as I was defiling past in the caravan. One of the men had his comrade’s gun in his hand, and was apparently examining it, when, as I was within a few paces of him, it went off. All that I heard was the cry of alarm on the part of the man that he wished he had known the gun was loaded; my own people flocked around me in consternation, but I passed on without turning my head, as though I had heard nothing. After the events of the day my mode of proceeding was designed to make an impression on the people, and succeeded in winning the hearts of all, especially as I never passed a single remark upon the whole transaction. The result was that everyone looked upon me as protected by a good star, and that every attempt upon my life would be utterly unavailing.

Our further progress led us, for two leagues from the residence of Bendo, along cultivated lands which were covered with farmsteads. On either hand, and apparently united with Gumango, stretched out ranges of granite hills to the south and south-east. One hill in particular lay to the left of our way, which was very long, but not higher than Gumango. The three succeeding leagues were all down-hill across a desert, and we had to pass some marshy courses, and several of what for want of a better name may be called “meadow-waters,” which at this season of the year were quite dry. These localities in Kanori, the dialect of Bornoo, are called “nyalyam.” Barth mentions them as one of the most characteristic features of Central Africa, between the Shary and the Benwe.[46] The prevailing character of the landscape was that of a steppe lowland, broken now and then by park-like woods.

The southern limit of Nganye’s territory is reached at the river Sway, which flows through the desert land which bounds alike his territories and Aboo Sammat’s. Just one league before we arrived at the river we passed the hamlets of Marra, who was a “behnky” of Nganye’s. The Sway is the upper Dyoor, and according to the uniform representations of the Niam-niam, it is considered as the main stream. I came across its source at the mountain of Baginze, where, although it is but a little brook, it is called by the same name. The proofs that I can adduce for the identity of the Dyoor and Sway are conclusive enough to establish it for a certainty, and they appear worthy of some special notice here, since they may serve to throw some light upon the question of the independence of the Welle, as a system distinct from that of the Nile basin.

1. There is no doubt that the length of the river’s course between the two points where I crossed it, the one in Marra’s district and the other in Bongo-land, near Manganya, amounts to 145 miles; but the positions, which I accurately determined, of the south Bongo Seribas, belonging to Ghattas and Kurshook Ali, and the assertion of these two men that the Dyoor flows due north from a distance of at least 70 miles above the fording-place near Manganya, virtually reduce the portion of the course that I did not explore to one-half.

2. At Marra, the Sway was already a stream with a volume of water sufficient to have an important share in the formation of the Dyoor.

3. All the Niam-niam that were questioned by me in Kurkur and Dangah, and who came from parts of their native land adjacent to these places, plainly and uniformly called the Dyoor by the name of the Sway; and without ever having been to Marra they were quite aware that the river came from the parts intermediate between the lands of Nganye and Wando.

4. Upon the road which the roving ivory companies of Mundo take over what was formerly Tombo’s territory, the Sway is crossed near Fomboa, at a place that corresponds to the curve which the river describes in my map.

5. The most important river flowing towards the north and east that must be crossed by expeditions proceeding southwards from Dem Bekeer in Dar Ferteet, is the Nomatilla or Nomatina, which according to all accounts is identical with the upper course of the Wow or Nyenahm, and is at all events the largest tributary of the Dyoor. From Solongoh’s residence, past which it flows, the Nubians have followed the course of the Nomatilla right down into the lands of the Bongo and Dyoor. There are no other important tributaries that the Dyoor can possibly receive upon the left; the Sway must, therefore, necessarily be the whole and entire upper course of the Dyoor.

To myself it was a great satisfaction thus to have placed beyond a doubt the origin of at least one of the principal source streams of the region of the upper Nile; and thus definitely to have assigned its geographical position to Mount Baginze.

The Sway flows past Marra along a level steppe, which on account of the rapid flow and deep channel of the river can only rarely, and that at the time of the rainfall, be under water. At this time the banks were perpendicular, rising to a height of some 18 or 20 feet, and being cut through layers of alluvial soil very much reminded one of the Nile “guefs.” The distance between bank and bank was 40 feet, but the actual river was now about 25 feet wide. Its depth was about 4 feet, and it was flowing at the rate of 120 feet a minute. The volume of water which passed was thus 200 cubic feet in a second, whilst the Dyoor, before its union with the Wow, at the dry season in the end of December, did not roll onward a volume of more than 1176 cubic feet. In the middle of June again the Sway had a volume of 1650 cubic feet to the second; whilst the Dyoor in the rainy season, at the point I have just mentioned, exhibited a volume of 8800 to 14,800 cubic feet.

This apparent discrepancy between the proportions of water of the two rivers at the opposite seasons of the year, is nevertheless quite in accordance with physical laws, and is consequently adapted to the purposes of demonstration. The drainage of the land outwards from its springs takes place in definite channels. These channels are represented by the great rivers which take their rise in the highest districts. The rain, uniformly spread throughout the country, makes its escape to its destination by the courses which are periodically opened in the smaller streams which become tributary to the larger. Compared, therefore, to what they are in the winter, the great rivers are not during the rainy season proportionately increased to the same extent as the smaller.

All the tributaries of the Dyoor (even to the great Wow, to which the Dyoor owes at least one-third of its volume), as far as they are known to me, have in winter the most trifling significance. Upon the right are the Rye, the Lako, and the Lengbe; on the left the Hoo, the Yubbo, and the Bikky. Any small addition which the little affluents might be able to yield in the winter is all lost by infiltration and by evaporation, so that their entire and united efficiency is so unimportant as to be of no account whatever.

The sun had not risen on the 7th of February when we started on our passage over the river. A bath, no doubt, after the heat and fatigue of the previous day was very refreshing, but on this occasion it was involuntary; and as we waded up to our necks in water I was conscious of sacrificing the cosy warmth which a preparatory cup of tea had given my stomach to the cause of science.

Through a charming bush forest, which, though destitute of large trees, was most imposing in the luxuriance and size of its foliage, our long column continued its march. These bush woods, remarkable for the large dimensions of their leaves, predominate everywhere throughout the countries of the Bongo and of the Niam-niam; they contain little of the nature of the steppes, except in parts where there is space left for the grass to spring up in abundance. Districts destitute of trees could not anywhere be found except upon the rocky flats or amidst the damp and marshy lowlands. The outspread of green was so universal, that, camp where we would, we were like the eggs in a bowl of salad. Let arable land lie but a couple of years in fallow, and it will break out into a young but dense plantation; the roots of the shrubs that have been cut down send up new shoots, and the whole is soon again a mass of verdure. It should nevertheless be mentioned that every tree that is either fine in itself or useful in its product is always spared and allowed to stand. The charm of the landscape at this early season of the year is very fascinating, and beyond a question April and May are months full of delight in Africa.

Before noon we had reached the little river Hoo, which after flowing as far as the eye could reach through continued steppes, at a spot a few leagues further down unites itself to the Sway. At this period it was a mere brook rather than a river, with a level sandy bed varying from 35 to 20 feet in breadth; it had but a languid flow and seldom was above 2 feet in depth. The banks are very low, and the rainfall consequently soon makes it overflow its limits and swamp the adjacent steppes as far as the very limits of the woods. The plants which flourish on its borders, trees and shrubs alike, clearly reveal that for months together they have been under water.

We took an hour’s rest, which was spent in making a cup of tea and in disposing of a kala-bok (Antilope leucotis) which I had shot upon our way as a herd had crossed our path. A fine landscape was open before us to the east, and upon the outspread plain were herds of buffaloes of which the movements afforded us some entertainment. They went to and fro in groups of several hundreds along the ground that was furrowed by their tracks, and over land which in the dry season alone was rugged and uneven. Whenever we crossed any extensive river-plains we always fell in with herds of buffaloes; but we observed that vestiges of elephants were comparatively very rare, although the indications were not wanting that even quite recently some had been upon the scene. But to these sagacious creatures a trodden path is a thing to be eschewed, and they prefer to pursue their long marches under the obscurity of night. If any one would prosecute elephant-hunting to advantage, he must, as a matter of course, renounce every other aim whatever.

From the flats where the Hoo lay low, we proceeded through an undulating rocky bush-wood to an adjacent brook called the Atoborroo. Sunk in a deep chasm 80 feet deep it was hardly perceptible from above, and streamed on over-massed by the densest marsh foliage. The vegetation of the woods offered me a fresh feast of plants that I had never before seen, and I enjoyed an especial pleasure in the discovery of thickets of a species of ginger-plant, which filled the valley all around with the most delicious aromatic perfume, and grew quite down to the edge of the water.

Damp and foggy was the following morning as our caravan moved on its way. We had proceeded but a short distance when our advanced party came to a standstill. This was a symptom that a brook or river of some sort had obstructed further progress. These continual delays and interruptions contributed somewhat to the difficulty of keeping a systematic record of my wayfaring experiences. Through the tall grass and high bushes I endeavoured to push my way to the head of the line, but I could only succeed in arriving in time to see the first company follow their banner over the Manzilly. Along a ravine deeply overhung by the broad branching foliage of the fig-trees, the stream rushed on to the north-east, a direction precisely the reverse of what was followed by the Hoo, which ultimately received the waters of all the minor streams which came from the western heights. At every time of the year these water-courses are all very rapid, and generally speaking they run over gravel beds in distinction from the marshy mould of the more sluggish streams. In these cases the tedious process of undressing is limited to merely taking off one’s socks and boots, and this is a considerable saving of time.

Shortly after this we came to a small, albeit a very small piece of primeval forest, containing giant fig-trees, commonly called gum-trees, and indeed of a species not unlike the Ficus elastica. As a forerunner of greater surprises still to come, there rose before my view the first thicket of the calamus (the rotang or Spanish reed), which deserves a foremost place in every description of the woods that line the river-banks in the Niam-niam lands. It was a “gallery” or avenue in miniature, such as I should find on a larger scale along the side of nearly all the smaller streams to the south. This conception, so necessary to an adequate topographical representation of the land, will be discussed in a somewhat later page.

After a while we reached a second brook beside the farmsteads of Kulenjo, which are the first settlements of the Niam-niam subject to the immediate control of Aboo Sammat. The possessions of each separate Niam-niam are parted from each other, just in the same way as the territories of the different tribes, by desolate intervals void of any residents whatever, nominally for the purpose of security, so that the inhabitants may by placing out a watch easily guard against any sudden attack. When there is mutual distrust, or in times of open war, watches are of little service in signalling danger, for then every Niam-niam, as a true hunter, passes his whole time in watching and lying in wait.

During the entire day I occupied myself among the magnificent thickets on the stream near Kulenjo, the vegetation, so different from what I had seen in other parts of the Nile district, and of which I had had only a foretaste on the Atazilly, being here revealed in its full splendour. The flora embraces the majority of the plants of the western coasts of tropical Africa that are known on the Gaboon, the Niger, and the Gambia, and overstepping the watershed dividing the Nile districts from the basin of the Tsad, opens to the traveller from the north the unexpected glory of the wildernesses of Central Africa. Though all was but a faint reflection of the rich luxuriance of the primeval forests of Brazil, yet, in contrast to what had gone before, it could not fail to be very charming. Throughout the twenty-six degrees of latitude over which I travelled, the progress of vegetation, according to the geographical zone and the meteorological condition of the successive lands, was organised with wonderful simplicity. For the first 800 miles stretched the dreary desert, giving place to wide steppes, void of trees, but ever covered with grass; next came the delightful region of the bush forests, where the vegetation, divested of the obnoxious thorns of the desert, recalled the soft foliage of his native land to the mind of the traveller, who lastly entered upon what he might correctly call the true primeval forest, which carried him back to the memories of his youth when he yielded his fancy to the fascinations of ‘Robinson Crusoe’ or of ‘Paul and Virginia.’ An identical change gradually supervening in the character of vegetation is perceptible in a contrary direction in the southern half of the continent; and travellers proceeding from the Cape northwards to the Equator have rarely failed to draw attention to the fact.

Nature everywhere proceeds upon the principle of levelling what is opposite and balancing what is extreme: she would seem to abhor the sharply-defined boundaries in which man delights so much, and in accordance with this law she here presents to the eye of the inquirer a transition that is very gradual, so that the limits of her districts overlap one another like the fingers of folded hands. Even in lat. 7° N. small isolated tracts of bank-forest, bearing, however, the characteristic types of the “gallery” flora, are scattered like enclaves among the bush-forests of the distant north. The forests at Okale, at Yagla, and the locality called “Genana,” are examples which I have already mentioned.

Nowhere did the guinea-fowl afford better sport than along the stream at Kulenjo; about noon their grey plumage could be seen in the shade of the foliage as they perched aloft in the trees at the edge of the wood, where they could be brought down one after another with the greatest ease. The keen vision of the Niam-niam did me good service in spying out the birds from a distance, for the waving green around me made me almost blind. The early morning likewise is not an unfavourable time for getting at guinea-fowl; they begin their flight very shortly after sunrise, but even then they are too much occupied in securing their food to heed the approach of any tolerably cautious sportsman.

The reader may perchance wonder at my frequent mention of these guinea-fowl, and I would therefore be allowed to explain that the traveller in Africa would be quite at a loss without them, as, with rare exceptions, they form the main commodity of his daily cuisine. In the course of five years I daresay I brought down as many as a thousand of these birds, generally two at a time. By using the lightest shot that can be obtained, and aiming high, failure is quite exceptional, as the smallest grain that hits the long neck is sure to bring down the game. With dogs, even when untrained, securing the birds is a still more easy matter. The guinea-fowl cannot fly far at a time, and therefore when they perceive the dogs in the long grass, they seem to realise their inability to escape, and take refuge on the nearest bough. Often while my dogs have surrounded a tree, I have brought down from a distance of thirty or forty feet one guinea-fowl after another, without a single bird having ventured to leave its hiding-place.

In marching for three days across an open wilderness, the caravan had to be provided by Kulenjo with their ordinary meals, and it was no easy matter in a region so scantily populated to find the necessary food for a thousand hungry mouths. The feeding took place in the evening, and before sunrise in the morning. The whole party of bearers were divided into groups, to which the food was distributed by the different “nyare,” or local Bongo overseers, who generally accompany the leaders of these longer expeditions. Handfuls of corn, measured out just as though they were portions for camels or asses, and lumps of bread composed of coarsely-ground impure Teleboon-corn (eleusine), boiled to a pulp, formed the wretched allotment and composed the substance of a meal such as we should hesitate at giving even to our cattle. Frequently in the wilderness they are reduced to the necessity of cooking and eating their corn unground. In comparison with this vile and wretched provision, linseed-cake and bran would be accepted by the Bongo and Mittoo bearers as choice delicacies. The natives bring them their pulpy bread in baskets, and by counting the great lumps of dough, which were packed in green leaves, it was possible, with some approximation to truth, to estimate the number of families appointed to take their share in providing the supplies.

Dainties more tempting and recherché were brought in gourd-shells. The natives who brought these alone formed a goodly company, consisting chiefly of boys and children; the women, being shy, and also jealously guarded by their husbands, remained behind at home.

I must not omit to mention the vegetables, which, when circumstances permitted, were also brought for the bearers. These vegetables, served with sauces, were arranged in hundreds of gourd-shells, pots, and bowls, round the immense pile of the so-called bread. The sauces, which were greatly relished by the Bongo, consisted of a compound of animal and vegetable grease, water, soda, and aromatic herbs. The chief ingredients in the finer sorts were grains of sesame and hyptis, pounded to a pulp, whilst the inferior kinds were mainly composed of the Zawa-oil of the Lophira alata and oil of termites. Those with the most piquant flavour are made of dried fish, which is pounded and rolled into balls like cheese; in consequence of the heat of the climate these very soon acquire a haut goût. Neither Bongo nor Niam-niam will touch pimento, as they consider its very pungency to be an evidence of its poisonous properties; consequently they seek a substitute in stinking fermented matter.

Common salt is absolutely unknown in this part of Africa; the only salt to be procured being extracted from the ashes of the wood of the Grewia; consequently the greasy soups when boiled coagulate almost into a kind of soap, and their flavour may be more easily imagined than described. To make specially attractive sauces there is added the flesh of elephants and buffaloes, which has been previously dried and pounded. Any fat from meat is all but unknown: Nature appears to have quite denied any supply to animals that are wild, and the Niam-niam have no domestic animals like their neighbours; whilst the fat of dogs and men, even if it were not loathsome to the Bongo, would be far too rare and costly to be used for such a purpose. Such is the usual food supplied to the native bearers, and according to their notion it is probable that no more grateful diet could be prescribed.