A STORM. — TOKULS OR HUTS OF THE SHILLUKS. — THE TALLE, A SPECIES OF MIMOSA. — THE GEÏLID. — THE BAMIE. — UEKA. — WILD RICE. — OMMOS. — THE SHILLUKS A LARGER NATION THAN THE FRENCH! — IMMENSE POPULATION ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE ARM OF THE NILE. — THE HABAS OR FORESTS. — A TURKISH JEST! — LEECHES. — DISEMBARKATION ON THE LAND OF THE SHILLUKS. — DESCRIPTION OF THE TOKULS. — CONDUCT OF THE BEDOUINS TOWARDS THE PILGRIMS TO MECCA. — THE MURHAKA. — MANNER OF CATCHING GAZELLES. — SÜRTUKS OR CANOES OF THE SHILLUKS. — REFUSAL OF THE KING OF THIS NATION TO VISIT THE VESSELS. — TREATMENT OF HIS AMBASSADORS AT KHARTUM. — THE BAOBAB TREE. — DHELLEB PALMS. — WINDINGS OF THE RIVER. — OSTRICHES. — HILLS OF ASHES OF THE DINKAS. — RIVER SOBAB.

5th December.—We had cast anchor yesterday evening in the middle of the river, partly to prevent our being surprised by the natives, and partly because landing was impossible, for the shores were a mere swamp far and wide. The calm continued during night; but, before daybreak, such a storm suddenly set in, that the ships, dragging after them the anchors, were slung round, and ran one against the other, when abuse and blustering on the side of the captain as well as of the crew vied even with the tempest. It was fortunate that the morning broke, and that the Habùb changed into a good N.E. wind, enabling us, for the first time, to make six miles in the hour. The depth of water was in the night five fathoms and a half, and the rapidity of the river half a mile. The ships presented a beautiful sight on the smooth water territory, which, being of a dazzling purple colour, from the reflection of the clouds driving from the north, drew them along like two mighty serpents through a green sea of floating grass.

At six o’clock this morning, several villages were seen on the left shore in the land of the Shilluks. I counted twelve or fifteen close to one another; and in half an hour afterwards again eighteen or twenty, the last of which we passed about nine o’clock. We have still six miles to make, and go W.S.W. for a short time; then again in the main direction of S.W., where groups of Tokuls, joined to one another, continue on the left shore, and lie on the old bank of the river. The Arabs say that this is the capital of the Shilluks, and is called Dennap. The latter word means, however, the tail of an animal, and is therefore applied by them to the length of the row of Tokuls, as being analogous, although the name, properly speaking, is Kak. The structure of the huts is the same as that of the Tokuls in Beled-Sudán, with this difference, that the roofs are not conical, but arched.

Now, at ten o’clock, whilst the river is winding towards the south, I remark, on the left shore, at about an hour and a half distant, a large village, connected probably with the others, which are concealed only by trees. Before it lies an extensive marshy meadow-land. On the right shore is displayed a yellow line of the dry high grass, because, owing to its height, the shore here is less exposed to inundations. The channel of the river receives through this course of the genuine shore an enlargement scarcely to be defined, whilst the trees of the old left bank extend in a narrow close line, which, at this moment, (half-past six o’clock,) is certainly two hours long. The right shore continues flat, and forms, like the left, an immeasurable grassy sea, the limits of which cannot be distinguished even from the highest point of the vessel; for the isolated yellow tracks, though almost imperceptible, may be likewise little fertile elevations in the marsh land, tamarinds being scattered right and left. The stream covering all these grasses, which are but of young growth, must have formed here, therefore, a short time ago, a regular lake.

In the low ground lying close to the river, which the tamarinds I saw yesterday shew to be dark marsh ground, I, for the first time, examined closely, a kind of mimosa, called talle, distinguished by its reddish rind from the whitish rind of the tamarind, the boughs of which are twisted nearly like those of oaks. The rind of the talle-tree is used like that of the geïlid, to be burnt as a perfume: a little also, grated, and strewn on the merissa, gives it a piquant flavour. The geïlid is in its whole form like the pear-tree, only its leaves are smaller, and the esculent fruit is similar to an olive.

Towards eleven o’clock we sailed S.E. On the left hand a regular lotus-sea extended to the right shore. The lotus must, no doubt, have once existed in Egypt in similar exuberance amongst analogous circumstances of marshy soil, before it could have been reckoned among the means of subsistence. The yellow colour which I at first took for dry reeds, proceeded from the dry stalks of the bamie (called Uèka), which cover the land, elevated about four feet on the right shore, to an immeasurable distance, and suffer no other plants to rise among them, as they grow quite close. The fruit, here very small and rough, had, without being gathered, burst altogether from the husks. At noon we proceeded Eastward, and the N.E. wind drove some of the vessels into the stream towards the shore on the other side, so that we were obliged to have recourse to towing; then arose the usual contention about precedence.

At one o’clock we lay-to at the Bamien shore. The soil is tolerably good, and black, though strongly mixed with sand; and the few geïlid trees upon it have acquired an unwonted strength. Numerous nests of sparrows and finches were perched on the dry stalks of the bamie, and feed on its seeds. This uèka is plucked whilst green, cut through, and dried, ground fine in the hand-mill (Murhàka), and serves throughout the country for broth to the farinaceous food. There were four villages in our neighbourhood, and we observed palms at about an hour distant.

At two o’clock we left this place, and had recourse again to Libàhn, however unwillingly the crew betook themselves to this towing. Further on we descried villages, and as far as the eye could reach, the land was all covered with uèka, fields of which sloped with a gentle descent to the river, though the young plants had been invisible, till the present time, upon the parts already dry. It does not appear to me probable that these fields have been sown by the hand of man, for otherwise the old stalks would have been removed, unless they are left to protect the young plants from the heat of the sun, till they are able to cover the ground with their own foliage; for artificial irrigation is not to be thought of here. The Dinkas, who inhabit these regions, as well as the Shilluks, on the left shore, besides living on corn (Durra and Doghen), feed on the fruit of the geïlid, frequently met with here, and on the seeds of the various species of high grass, denominated, so significantly, “Children of Grass” (Genna el Gesh), to which also a kind of wild rice (Rus Suhillkai) belongs. They also feed on cattle, sheep, and goats, and do not despise the flesh of the crocodile, or the hippopotamus.

In the afternoon our course was generally S.E. From the deck two rivers are seen, which join and separate, whilst meandering through the indefinitely extended green grass lake. At five o’clock we directed our course W.S.W., and the lingering north wind setting in, allowed us to make use of our sails. The wild bamies still continue, intermixed here and there with Ommòs (Italian Ceci), a sweet fruit, with a pod, much liked in Egypt. On the right shore, otherwise bare, we see here and there a tree, and an arm of the stream stretches far into the land.

Towards sunset the sky was somewhat clouded, but so much the more magnificent appeared the broad tranquil river, expanding before us, and in which our ships were reflected, as in a mirror, whilst solitary small islands floated around us in all the lustre of green and gold. The left shore is covered with trees, and the horizon bounded by solitary huts. We halt when it becomes calm; but at my persuasion, take to our oars till we come up to Suliman Kashef’s vessel. About nine o’clock we sail S.W. with the N.E. wind blowing up, and make, up to half-past one o’clock, three miles in the hour. Southwards till the evening. Depth of the stream, in the middle of which we anchored, four fathoms.

6th December.—At day-break S.W. by S., five miles. At some distance from the left shore villages, said to continue in an unbroken line, on account of which the Kurd thinks that the Shilluks are a larger nation than the French. An enormous meadow land lies in the water before the river’s edge, upon which tokuls are observed, at not quite an hour’s distance, called Biut (from Beit-House), because these huts, as it is said, are somewhat different in form from those commonly met with in the land of Sudàn. The right shore joins the horizon in a wide creek, and approaches us again at half-past eight o’clock, when we are sailing S.W., whilst the villages on the deserted ancient shores, extend from west to south. The large villages of the Dinkas appear now on the right bank, with a marshy foreground of three quarters of an hour in breadth, having a very monotonous appearance, and being almost without a tree. Opposite lie two large villages, honoured with the name of Helle (City), upon gently elevated downs, in an elliptical arch. The larger city may contain about one hundred tokuls, and is said, according to Selim Capitan, to be called Minianàk. Immediately afterwards four other villages appeared; the projecting wood did not permit us to discover any others that there might have been. The bare shore of the Dinkas is enlivened by six large villages, and a seventh appeared on the horizon S.S.W.: they lie an hour and a half distant from the water, and certainly the enormous Bamian field, by its slightly undulating form, concealed from our sight yesterday many villages. Here also, as among the Shilluks, it is said that Helles join one to the other in a line, for the space of several days’ journey. Four miles course, and half a mile the rapidity of the current. The villages on the right shore lie generally higher than those on the left.

There is certainly no river in the world the shores of which are, for so great a distance, so uninterruptedly covered with habitations of human beings. We cannot conceive whence so many people derive their nourishment. There are some negroes on the left shore, lying without any clothing on them, in the grass; therefore the ground cannot be covered to any height with water. They made gestures, and greeted us with uplifted arms; but our people thought that we could not trust such a friendly welcoming, for they might have concealed their spears in the grass, in which, perhaps, a whole troop of men were hidden.

Neither these Shilluks nor the Jengähs, up the river, possess horses or camels, but merely sheep and cows. When they take a horse or camel from the Turks, they do not kill it—probably not eating the flesh of these animals,—but put out its eyes as a punishment for having brought the enemy into their country. Those animals, being introduced from Asia, may indeed, with difficulty, withstand the marshy nature of this land, as may be inferred from what usually takes place in Taka, where, on account of their great mortality during the damp season, they are driven to the more elevated parts (Gallas). Whether a kind of animal worship lies under their not killing these beasts, I do not venture to determine. Towards the south the shores contract, and the villages also approach nearer to the river.

At half-past nine o’clock the left bank, close at hand, presented a real forest of tamarinds, which also traverses the lower covered pasture-land, or follows, in an irregular form, the newer line of the shore, caused by the descent of the stream. An incredible number of birds appear on all sides; these airy attendants of the marshes devour terrestrial animals, which perish through the overflow of water, and would otherwise entirely poison the air, as in Egypt. The trees, standing singly, are, for the most part, quite white, from the excrement of the birds, and naturally die away. On the old undulating left shore are as many as eight villages; to the left hand, two long rows of the peaks of tokuls, distant, perhaps, about two hours’ journey; those on the right hand being half an hour from our course. The old banks, however, do not come close to the river, as we at first thought, but appear to have their main direction towards S.W. The stream winds in two arms through the grass, marshy meadow-land, which is at least two hours’ in breadth, and seems once to have formed the bed of the primitive stream. The right shore is bare, without trees, and possibly, from its higher situation, prevents the Nile from producing any green land. On the contrary, we see in the hollow on the right hand, five or six heads of palms, appearing to be dome-palms.

About twelve o’clock, we remark in the bare horizon, on the left hand, nine villages of the Dinkas; and on the right, immediately behind the trees of the low country, generally on a level with the river, only raised here and there, seven villages of the Shilluks, on the borders of the green vegetation lying in front of them. The meadows before these villages are skirted indeed by trees, but between them, and in the background, no vegetation, except copsewood on parched grass-land, is discerned; whereas on the right shore, where the villages may be from two to two hours’ and a half from us, not a tree is to be seen on the enormous grass plain,—not even near the huts themselves. We sail S.W., half-past twelve o’clock, where to the right of the left shore, some groups of huts extend in a bamien field, which is already parched, and bounded in the back-ground by trees in full verdure. When the inundation takes place, it is impossible that these huts can be inhabited, from their low situation. An island, with two hills, extends to the right side of the shore.

Whilst Suliman Kashef’s vessel was making a bend before us, in order to sail on the other side, Feïzulla Capitan, who was standing aloft, on the cabin, determined to keep on his course. Suliman Kashef no sooner remarks this, than he sends two shots at Feïzulla Capitan, so close that I myself, who was standing before the door of the cabin, heard the balls whistle. The latter remained quietly standing, although, according to his own assertion, as well as that of the sailors who were aloft repairing the sails, the balls flew by within a hand’s breadth of his head: he merely said, “Malesh—hue billàb” (it is nothing—he is jesting). Feïzulla also shot twice; pointing, however, the gun in an opposite direction, that so Suliman Kashef might see that he took the friendly greeting as a Turkish joke, and being a bad shot did not dare to aim at him.

On the left side of the river, six small villages, of from twenty to fifty huts, between groves of sunt-wood; at the right side, in the distant horizon, ten villages, some of them long and large, and having treeless, immeasurable, Nile-meadows before them. We see also now on the left shore, behind the trees, habitations as far as which the water appears to reach. Therefore the river, including the marshes under water, which are its limits, must be at least three hours’ broad. The villages denoting best the direction of the old shore, and between which the present stream arbitrarily winds, extend now (about two o’clock) from east to west. We counted in the space of an hour, seventeen large and small villages.

We sail S.S.E. into an arm of the Nile, which continues to become narrower, and where we at last stick fast on the grass, for it contracted itself to the length of our bark. Happily the river here is not so deep but that we could make use of our long poles, whilst the wind helped us, in some measure, to break through this short passage. We did this in order to gain a wider arm in W.S.W. and S.W., wherein the principal stream seems to flow, the water, shortly before, being entirely stagnant. The sailors, who had jumped into the water on this little error in our course, came again on board with leeches sticking to their bodies, the first and only ones I have seen in the land of Sudàn.

A calm set in; but towing on ground of such a nature was not to be thought of. Besides, we had no wood, so we landed in the country of the Shilluks, near large sunt-trees; amongst them one was distinguished by a circumference of fifteen feet. Some houses lay there upon a low island, still surrounded with water, from which the people had fled; we found in one of them a dog, which I protected from the wanton cruelty of the crew, by laying claim to him as my property. This faithful beast was of the shepherd-dog breed, similar to those seen in Turkey. The tokuls have the already-mentioned arched roofs of meadow-grass (called Halfa), and their walls are of reeds and poles, as thick as a man’s arm, and plastered inside and out with a clay-like under layer of the Nile slime. It appears that they try to harden this circular wall before placing on the roof, by a large fire lighted in the interior, as is the custom also in the mountains near Fàzogl, for the walls displayed an extraordinary solidity, considering they were of burnt clay. The door is an oval hole, through which we stooped to enter, and it is also of good service when poking such a fire. We found here several household utensils, none of which I ventured to lay claim to, although they could have no other value for the people than that of momentary use. My three servants no sooner remarked that I was pleased with these things, than, laughing at my scrupulous conscience towards these “Abit,” they stole some of the utensils behind my back, whilst we were sitting and eating together, and carried them to the ships. They said afterwards that the Shilluks must have left these things lying in their houses for us to take them. On this excuse, I remembered what the Bedouins (Beduàn, sing. Bedaùi) did, when Mohammed Ali forbade them to take tribute from the pilgrims travelling to Jerusalem and Mecca; they forced the pilgrims to drop upon the ground as much money as they thought sufficient, and then, pretending to find it after the caravan had passed, took possession of it.

Besides some pretty platted mats, we found here larger and more beautiful clay vessels, in the form of the Burma, than in Sennaar. They were extraordinarily light, and of a black colour, for the slimy clay there, piled up in strata, and kneaded together into balls, as thick as the fist, displayed a dark colour, and must undergo an excessive cleansing before being used for that purpose. As there are no stones here, between which meal can be ground, they make use of a murhàka of clay, a plate three or four fingers thick, blunted at the four corners, having a rough, solid crust, and on which they grind their corn off hand with an artificial stone. In the land of Sudan they use for a murhàka a block of granite, presenting above a flat surface, so that the corn poured on it, by handfuls, rolls off neither to the right nor to the left. A female slave kneeling triturates the corn to a meal, with an oval stone, which she holds in both hands. From the sloping position of the granite block, this meal runs off, and is received in a piece of leather or cloth, laid under this simple mill. I saw a Murhàka of this form in the Museum at Berlin. These last-mentioned stones are found on the Island of Rügen, and have a hole in the middle, owing to the continual rubbing, exactly as we see in Inner Africa. This grinding is a very troublesome process, and the arms of the poor creatures condemned to it acquire an unusual form.

As bread is the mainstay in these lands, in the form of flat cakes, often as fine and thin as wafers, a slave can only make meal for eight persons, if she works from morning to evening; and this is even taken as a standard. Besides that murhàka of clay, which is mixed with slime and roots, although the pure blue clay lies at a small depth, I saw also large broken mortars in the earth, made of the very same materials. In order to repair these, they make a hole in the ground, smearing the inside with clayey thick slime, and light a fire in it, when the mortars become as smooth and dark as if they were made of cast iron. A pestle of hard wood is used to prepare an oil from the simsin and garrua (ricinus).

We also found a large net used for the chase, with bells, made of the fruit of the doum-palm, which is similar to that of the cocoa-tree. They spread this net around the gazelles and antelopes, who, on touching the meshes (made of the inner bark of trees) are frightened at the clattering of the bells, and rush along it to the hostile ambush, where they are killed with javelins. They have also another method of seizing the gazelles and taking them alive. They know the foot-prints of these animals, and what food, in the way of shrubs, is most pleasing to them. Here the huntsmen lay under the dense foliage of brushwood, large traps, which are covered round about to their centre with small lanceolate flat bamboo plants, in such a manner that an opening remains in the middle, where the points concentrate, and this gives way on anything stepping on it, so that the animal is caught by his leg in this prickly plate, and thereby being hindered from escaping, is easily taken.

We found also some well-baked and polished pots, filled with tobacco, the before-named rice of the Shilluks, and other seeds of grasses. The strip of shore whereon we found ourselves was narrow, and a few days previously had been deserted by the water; the lower part of the tokuls not having suffered from it, because, even at high water, there is but little current.

All up the country are grass swamps, with sunt-trees, and between them some huts, which could not have been then inhabited. Boats, with people in them, rowed here and there in the grass, to watch us. On the right shore we remark five villages—the largest might contain 200 houses. The bank of the river here is gently elevated to about 10 feet, as is the case nearly always in the direction of villages a little distant. Some of our soldiers, native Shilluks, who were like slaves among the troops, have been sent out to treat with the people.

The Sultan or Bando of the Shilluks, in the preceding year, on the arrival of the first expedition, fearing a hostile invasion, collected here several thousand men. On that occasion the Turks remained two or three days, in order to come to terms with him; and he presented them with cattle and sheep. We expect, therefore, now, the arrival of the Bando, to whom a present of a red upper garment, red cap (tarbùsh, in Turkish, fessi), and glass beads, has been sent. A heavy boat, or rather a periagua, hollowed out from the trunk of a tree, lies here. Thibaut, in his spiritual humour, wanted, or pretended to want, dry wood, and ordered his servants to hew to pieces this boat, which, perhaps, had been made half a year; but the sunt-wood having become black from being in the water, was as strong as iron, and defied all the efforts of the hatchet. A canoe of this kind is called sürtuk.

7th December.—We have not yet seen the king of this great nation, which may amount to 2,000,000 people, according to Suliman Kashef’s declaration, if it be true, that there are large gohrs fed by the Nile in the interior, whereon the villages lie equally as crowded as here on the main stream, who has not made his appearance. He dwells, however, only two or three hours’ distance from the river; and we hear throughout the night the large war-drums (Nogàra) beating in our neighbourhood—a proof that they mistrust us. I am also persuaded that if Suliman Kashef had once got the dreaded Bando of the Shilluks on board, he would have certainly sailed away with him. I read this in his countenance when he received the intelligence that the Bando would not appear. Willingly as I would have seen this negro king, yet I rejoiced at his not coming for this shameful treachery to be practised upon him. Besides, he had also no cause to welcome the Muslims, these sworn enemies of his people; for, shortly before our departure for the white stream, he had sent three ambassadors to Khartùm, to place himself on a friendly footing with the Turks, and thus to check the marauding expeditions of his Arab neighbours, in which Kurshid Basha and Suliman Kashef had played a principal part. These three Shilluks, who were masters of the Arabic language, were treated in the divan with the usual contempt, as “Abit,” and were handed over to the Sheikh el Beled of Khartùm, to be entertained as common men. This Sheikh, who, receiving no pay, and having to bear the burden of everything, performs the duties of his office more from fear than for the honour, regaled these imperial messengers so magnificently that they came to us Franks, and begged some girsh (piasters) for bread and merissa. To procure them a better reception in the divàn, I represented to Abdalla Effèndi that he would by such treatment draw upon him the anger of the Basha, who was absent in Taka. He really would have presented them on the next day with dresses of honour, but they went away by stealth on the same evening. Now, I heard privately, through my servants, from our messengers to the Shilluks, that the Bando accepted, indeed, the garments, but abused the donors, and said that he would receive and welcome his equals, such as Mohammed Ali, and not his slaves.

I had not seen the baobàb-tree, which, as I learned in conversation, was in the neighbourhood of our landing-place. This gigantic tree, attaining a circumference of 60—nay, even of 120 feet, as one is said to be, near Fàzogl, is called in the land of Sudàn Homera, and its fruit Gungulés. So also the date-tree is called Naghel, and its fruit Tammer, or Bellàgh.

Half an hour before sunrise this morning, we left the prodigious sunt-trees, which had yesterday afforded us such excellent shade. With a fresh north wind we sail S.W. by W., and make four miles. The idea of enticing the king of the Shilluks by a new experiment, was abandoned. On the level surface of the right side of the river we observe ten pastoral villages, appearing to be surrounded with enclosures (Seriba), as a protection against wild beasts. No villages containing tokuls are seen; these are found further up the country, in the Gallas, as our Dinkas tell me. In the land of the Shilluks twenty-one villages shew themselves within an hour and a half. We pass by twelve villages in an hour. On the contrary, we see only four in the land of the Dinkas, on the opposite side. Eight o’clock, W.S.W., five miles. The villages of the Shilluks are in a line, close to one another, and form many pretty groups between the trees, whilst the huts of the Dinkas cover monotonously the flat shore, upon which few or no trees rise. I counted again, up to ten o’clock, fifteen villages, the last of which was distinguished by its picturesque position and large trees. Three baobàbs stand before the hut, which extend in two groups upon a gently curved neck of land, with their small cupola roofs. One of these trees is dead; the second a ruin; the third, as well as a fourth, in the upper part of the village, is in a living-dead state, for it has only a few leaves. This is the already known African giant-tree (Adansonia digitata).

One of the things especially giving a beautiful effect to the landscape, besides the doum-palms, protruding over the mimosas, is the aspiring slender Dhelleb-palm. It has a stem like that of the date-tree, which swells somewhat in the middle, and decreases towards the top. In the inlets, from whence these picturesque necks of land project into the stream, I perceived, to the left side of the shore, villages in all directions, forming a magnificent whole, whilst the right shore was bare, and at this time had only two villages to shew. The river forms its grass-islands, as before, and the villages unfortunately retreat to the old line of the shore from east to south; whilst we, with a brisk north wind, sail W.S.W. six miles. Half an hour beyond, the villages, green, marshy meadow-land, up to the old shore, appearing to denote the forest, to which the Nile approaches in an extensive curve, and forms near us, on the right, a grassy river pasture. I should like to see a map, accurately marking these creeks, subordinate arms, and natural canals, extending into the country, with the proximity and distance of the villages from the shore.

Whilst we approach the forest on the left bank, we observe several crocodiles before us, who are not alarmed at the rustling of our ships through the water. At half-past ten I stand on deck, and count again seventeen new villages of the Shilluks. It is very certain that the bay before alluded to spreads to nearly an hour’s breadth in the left shore. At eleven o’clock I see, on this side, an unlimited thriving grass plain, extending on a level with the water, at the most distant point of which a city is seen, said to be about three hours distant. The verdure shews that the river overflows the whole country; therefore it may be possible for individual families, during the inundation, to remain in the tokuls, lying close to the river, because they are always somewhat elevated, and the water can spread itself over a place of such a nature, but cannot ascend to any height.

On every side rise dhellèb-palms, but most of the villages are without them, and generally without trees at all. It seems inconceivable that none should be planted, for their shade is so extremely grateful in this climate. The natives always take the nearest trees, for the building materials of their tokuls, and never reflect that they may be sorry for this when the sun ascends the horizon. In their most pressing necessities they only provide for the moment, and therefore may not be inclined to plant for the future, or for their children. Immediately after eleven o’clock we sail close to the right shore, where two villages lie on yellow bare elevated downs; they are distinguished from those of the Shilluks by pointed roofs and a slovenly construction. Near the upper miserable Dinka city, where the lower walls of the tokuls are not even plastered, nine dhellèb-palms are found; eight stand together, and afford a beautiful sight. Four of these bear fruit; the others are male trees. The horizon, towards the left shore is covered with sixteen villages, and again we have a beautiful group of dhellèb-palms, mimosas, and baobàbs. The dhellèb, as far as it was known to the Ethiopians of Meroë, might have given the form to the pillars swelling in the middle; otherwise such columns appear to be contrary to nature; but we also find the same form in the Ambak.

About twelve o’clock we see, on the right side of the river, six ostriches walking about. This sight Suliman Kashef cannot withstand. We go ashore therefore, but the ostriches do not seem to trust us strangers: they stride up the country, and run away, directly the first shot sounds in their ears. The shore here gently rises from ten to twelve feet; and the hill, which might once have counted many huts where now only a few cabins are seen, rose some six feet higher. Behind it, the whole surface of the earth falls away, and the Nile is seen at a distance flowing near other Dinka villages, and ending in a narrow channel, deep in the land. A number of potsherds lay around; and those small heights I had taken at a distance for ant-hills, as these had often come before me in the Taka country, were hills of ashes. The Dinkas, who here chiefly lead a pastoral life, make on these hills their fires, and raking away the warm ashes, and collecting them in a circular form, lie down and sleep upon them, on account of the damp nights, for they go naked like the Shilluks. The cattle also are tied to stakes, in a circle around these hills of ashes. Now I could explain the livid colour of the people; for no religious custom enjoins the strewing of ashes on the body; and washing is not one of their practices, as is only too plainly remarked by the slaves coming from thence.

Opposite to us lay seven villages of the Shilluks. We had seen, at an earlier period, several of those Sürtuks (boats) erected within the shade of trees, in the country of the Shilluks; but here they are of an unusual length, and seem to be made of the dhellàb-palm. In the afternoon, level land abounded on all sides. We again approached the left shore. The stream flows in a picturesque semicircle before a beautiful pasture-ground, upon which are found doum and dhellèb-palms, mimosas, and other trees, forming a strong contrast to the blue sky. Between them eight villages are scattered, at which several people have collected under the protecting shade of two baobàbs, and gaze at us with astonishment. The Haba, or forest, either loses itself here, or extends beyond the horizon. Opposite, only one village, containing tokuls, with more pointed roofs, lies upon the arid ground; and a small river there seems to flow into the great stream, if it be not itself an arm of the river, having a considerable fall. We sail S.W., and make three miles whilst the river has the rapidity of one mile. On the right shore merely a doum-palm rises here and there from the immeasurable plain, whose low grey circumference, untouched by water, can scarcely be seen on account of the distance. At three o’clock five villages, in a low country, rich in palms; on the right shore, in front, only one village is to be seen, and the horizon before us is closed by nine villages. About four o’clock S.S.W.; on the left all flat to the forest, which again approaches nearer in an extensive sweep, but consists only of bad trees and underwood.

It is five o’clock, and we sail S.W. to the mouth of a river coming from Habesh, and on that account called Bahr el Makada. We halt, and Selim Capitan and our engineers ascertain the latitude, in order to determine the mouth of this river, which may be here five hundred paces broad. It has six fathoms in depth, and two miles in rapidity; whilst the Nile has only three fathoms in depth, and half a mile in velocity. It is said to come from the east, but that remains to be proved on our return voyage. The Arabic name of the river is Sobàt, though we hear it called also Sibàt and Subàt. Downs rise before and on it, from whence we perceive, at the setting sun, eleven villages between doum-palms, on the right shore of the White Stream, which, dividing here far and wide into several arms, raises a doubt which we shall choose to-morrow. The river Sobàt forms the limits of the country of the Dinkas.

The nation of the Nuèhrs begins on its left shore, and dwells up the Nile from hence—the Shilluks still continuing on the left shore. We learn from our negroes that the Sobàt is called Tah by the Dinkas, who give the name of Kir to the white stream, and Tilfi by the Shilluks dwelling opposite. It disembogues itself under 9° 11′ north latitude. When I returned to the vessel from my excursion, at sunset, I had an attack of fever, which is very inconvenient for me here on the white river. We chose our anchorage far from the shore, in a kind of lake; therefore the fires or torches of the Shilluks in the grass, flickering here and there, might keep the crew awake, but could not frighten them. The continual drumming must indeed have destroyed the illusion of the Shilluks, that they could swim to us, or surprise us with their canoes whilst we were sleeping.

ANT-HILLS. — TRIBE OF THE NUÈHRS. — THE JENGÄHS. — KAWASS OR SERJEANT MÁRIAN FROM MOUNT HABILA. — DESCRIPTION OF HIM. — TOKULS OF THE JENGÄHS. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GAZELLES. — THE RIVER N’JIN-N’JIN. — WORSHIP OF TREES. — THE GALLAS OR STEPPES. — BLACK COLOUR OF THE RIVER. — NEW SPECIES OF PLANTS. — THE BITTERN AND IBIS. —“BAUDA” OR GNATS: THEIR DREADFUL STING. — LIEUT. ABD-ELLIÀB’S CRUELTY TO HIS FEMALE SLAVE. — THE TOKRURI OR PILGRIM. — CURIOUS SUPERSTITION WITH REGARD TO THESE MEN. — MOUNTAIN CHAIN OF NUBA. — PAPYRUS ANTIQUUS OR GIGANTIC RUSH. — GAZELLE RIVER. — DEAD FISH. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SNAKES. — ARABIC SONGS AND FESTIVITY ON BOARD. — JENGÄHS SUPPOSED TO BE WORSHIPPERS OF THE MOON: THEIR MANNER OF TATOOING. — STRIFE BETWEEN THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. — ANTIPATHY OF THE FRENCH ENGINEERS TO EACH OTHER. — LOCUSTS. — TORMENT OF THE GNATS: THEIR VARIOUS SPECIES. — BARBARITY OF THE TURKS ON THE FORMER EXPEDITION. — MARVELLOUS STORIES OF THE ARABS. — HATRED OF THE NATIVES TO THE TURKS.

8th December.—At day-break we proceed towards S.W. with north-west wind; three miles. At nine o’clock N.N.W. We see from the deck sixteen villages on the left shore; on the right, close to the border of the river, a number of little hills, overgrown with sward, and therefore, perhaps, formerly strongholds of ants, like those characteristic hills of ashes, which would seem to denote an ancient pastoral station. Further inland are distinguished, on the ancient old shore, up to which all is bare, two large villages. The stately palms also on the right, appear now to lose themselves in the extensive plain. We go N.W., and make five miles.

About ten o’clock, I surveyed on the right twenty-one villages, in the country of the Shilluks, on a green plain, in which, with the exception of some palms, there were no trees, and which took up the whole horizon from W. to N.E. Ou the left hand, the neighbouring right shore was nearly bare. Whilst we sail to N.W., two mountains, the one in front appearing to be covered with wood, rise in the S.W., at a distance of three or four hours.

At half-past eleven o’clock, we go on shore to the left, in the country of the Nuèhrs, to take in wood for ten or fourteen days, as it is said that there are merely reeds further up. No sunt presented itself here, but stunted geïlids and miserable ebony, which, however, cannot be cut, owing to its hardness. On the left shore here, are the boundaries of the Shilluks, and the Jengähs follow. An extensive green meadow, with neither trees nor houses on it, separates these two tribes.

The Kawass (serjeant) on board our vessel, gives me much welcome information on the condition of this people. He is called Màrian, from Mount Habila, and is the son of the murdered Mak, or King of all the mountains of Nuba, a hundred and eighty in number, according to him, and subject formerly to his father, who was slain by the Turks. He was made a slave, and was obliged, as being such, to change his name from Uadassa to that of Marian. He is of middle height, has a regular black countenance, with vertical streaks on the temples; on the forehead he is tattooed, and has ten holes at the edge of each ear, from which the Turks have taken his gold rings. He is a sensible and modest man; has been in the service thirteen years, and understands it, but has not been able to gain promotion, because he is entirely forgotten, and has no one to make the necessary intercession for him: his young son, however, was preserved at the time, and Marian’s uncle, who pays tribute to the Turks, has appointed him his deputy. Marian perceives that his tribe cannot do anything, even with the greatest bravery, against fire-arms, and therefore does not wish to acquire his freedom again by deserting. Besides this man, there are two Dinkas, a Shillkaui, and a Jengäh, on board, though hitherto I have found it impossible to learn the slightest thing from them about the manners and customs of their country, because they consider that such information would be treachery to their countrymen.

At one o’clock, we got again under weigh towards S.W., and kept more to the left side of the river. About half-past two o’clock, we saw the first tokuls of the Jengähs, which are far more slovenly built than those of the Shilluks; they stand a quarter of an hour distant from the shore, near a single dhellèb palm: we landed near them. A sürtuk lay there, forty feet long, with vertical sides and pointed ends; the stern of the boat, although made of hard timber, is closed diagonally by a piece of wood: it appeared to be hewn out of the trunk of a dhellèb palm. A beautiful kind of mimosa, with thick foliage and yellowish red flowers, like floss silk, struck me especially. The blue clay soil was full of foot-prints of river buffaloes, several of whom shewed themselves yesterday evening, and blew their sackbuts stoutly.

We saw also this morning, for the first time, two giraffes, called, however, Saràff, and said to be very abundant here. As there was nothing to be gained, and no people shewed themselves, we left the place. Soon afterwards we saw a village on the same side, with some dhellèb and doum palms; near it a river, running from N.W. by W., flows into the white stream, which, however, was taken for an arm of the latter. I subsequently ascertained from our Jengäh Bachit, that the name of this little river is N’jin-N’jin, and goes far in his country towards W. He called the white stream Kih, and afterwards Kidi. The sounds in their language are really inarticulate, and they can hardly pronounce an Arabic word so sharply as our characters require.

Up to five o’clock, we had on the right shore, before which a green margin lies in the water, thirty-four villages of the Nuèhrs, each containing from twenty to a hundred and more tokuls. Only a few of these enjoy the shade of trees. I believe it to be certain, that where Nature has once planted propitiously a shoot, and this shoot, by its growth, has triumphed over the voracity of beasts, and the wantonness of man, or stood beyond the reach of their necessities, the tree may easily become an object of veneration to people living in a state of nature, owing to the shade it affords to meetings in the open air.

We sail continually N.W., with slight deviations to one side or the other. We advance three miles, an arm of the Nile scarcely 200 paces broad. There is said to be a larger arm on the left side, as appears also to be the case on the right, where we saw a man take his little canoe on his head, and carry it to the houses near at hand. The right shore has here no habitations of the Nuèhrs; beyond the river’s edge, and also behind the houses the Galla, or Steppe, is visible. The before-named mountains on the right shore, the larger one of which is almost covered with masses of rock, appearing at a distance like large trees, and behind which three smaller curly heads follow, have vanished towards the south. We sail N.W. by W., and another considerable mountain appears on the flat grassy scene towards N.W., whilst we anchor, at sunset, in the middle of the river. Our Bakhi (who was taken prisoner from Bakhara, and was previously called Denn) did not know the name of the hilly ridge lying in the mountainous country of the Jengähs. The N’jin-N’jin, however, which he also calls Kih, meaning the same as river, or water, is said to flow past the foot of high mountains. I was told that when the reed-grass, standing from three to six feet above the water, and becoming very dry from the sun, soon after the inundation has run off, although the roots may be still under water, is ignited, a young and tender grass springs forth, of which cattle are said to be very fond.

The white stream here, and indeed since yesterday, might be really called the Black River. The latter colour arises partly from the Thin, that heavy clayey morass with which the bed of the river is covered, instead of floating sandy particles; and partly also from the dark kind of moss, that we see among the reeds, continuing to the bottom of the river, for the current (amounting here to less than half a mile), is not able to keep its course clear. This long marshy lake, of some two hours in breadth, discloses a new world of plants, in various high grasses and bog-shrubs. The swarms of little birds seem to find their nourishment in the ripening seeds. I remarked two bitterns, having the greatest resemblance to our water-hens—silver-grey, with a white wing: and also the black Ibis. The small detached islands, linked together by marsh-plants, floated only very slowly, although the contrary wind had quite subsided.

9th December.—The latitude, yesterday evening, was 9° 4′. The river, or Kih N’jin-N’jin, would therefore disembogue itself between 9° 12′ and 9° 4′. Our Gohr, as it pleased them to call the arm of the Nile, which we navigated yesterday evening, and which was scarcely fifty paces broad, has increased this morning to 100 and 150 paces in breadth, ever according to the caprice of the reed-grass, predominant here, and impudently intruding itself, for the stream has scarcely anything to do with it. A very strong dew hung on the grass in large pearly drops, very refreshing to the eye at sunrise. The thermometer shewed 20° heat. The distant shore of this marshy lake was denoted by isolated trees and a few small villages. We were obliged to take again to the oars, as on yesterday evening, and went N.W.

A dreadful pest has made its appearance in these lakes. “Baùda” is the horrible name, and means nothing else than gnats, which, when a calm sets in, make the people, and especially the half-naked sailors, nearly mad. On the right side of the Nile we perceive no human habitations. The nation of the Nuèhrs is said, thus far, to dwell more towards the interior, on the left shore of the Sobàt, and may therefore keep at a distance these frightful swarms of gnats, that torment man and beast. On the left bank we saw, at an hour’s distance beyond the reed-lake, eleven small villages; yet the nation of the Jenjähs is said to be very numerous, and to inhabit the shores of their N’jin-N’jin in populous villages, situated on inaccessible mountains. At nine o’clock we sailed, with a tolerably favourable east wind, W. by S., and made three miles, whilst the rapidity of the current might have been about a mile. Clouds had collected in the sky, and we feared rain, to which the Egyptian inhabitants of the Nile are so sensitive.

At eleven o’clock the S.E. wind set in, when we went due N.W. The river, which has, up to this place, a breadth of from four to five hundred paces, widens again to about an hour’s breadth. A marshy swamp, however, soon again intrudes: its pointed angle springs from the right shore, so that the latter can be only an hour distant, even to the trees over the green grass-land, whilst the left shore, on the contrary, has retreated this hour and a half into an immeasurable bay, the limits of which cannot be reached by the eye, even from the mast. That we should not remark any villages in the vicinity of this marshy land, is naturally to be expected.

The right shore becomes wooded, and we see, everywhere, rising pillars of smoke, said to be signals, as the natives can discern our vessels from thence. At 1 o’clock, the right shore, on the foreground of which groups of ambaks rise, is about two hours’ distant. We noticed numerous morass birds collected on this wide plain. This marsh-tree, towards the left side of the shore, appears to delude us in the same manner, since it assumes the form of groups of trees, belonging, at other times, to firm ground. A new morass-plant, rising to a great height, with large corollas, similar to a tuft of reeds, elevates, here and there, its long bare stalks. Its external appearance indicates it, even from afar, to be the papyrus antiquorum.

We go W.S.W., and a little before two o’clock W.N.W. One of the vessels chose another road to the left of us, and is separated an hour’s distance from us by the grass. About two o’clock, every tree (being the sign of firm ground) on the left also vanishes, and we see, therefore, nothing but the sky and grass sea, surrounded or intersected by the arms of the Nile. We sail N.W. with two miles and a half rapidity of current, and probably in the larger central arm, although it is scarcely four hundred paces broad. We conjecture that the main stream is to the right side of the shore, from whence the vessel before mentioned has returned, fearing to lose us altogether from the horizon.

My servants had given some durra to the female slave of our first lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, to prepare merissa from, of which drink the rest of the crew partook. The Paradise-Stormer,—formerly, according to his own confession, a staunch toper,—had no sooner learned that his slave had set to make this liquor, than he ordered this unfortunate creature, who was kneeling just before the murhàka, and grinding the corn, so that the perspiration was pouring off in streams from the bared upper part of her body, to remain quiet where she was: whereupon she crossed her arms over her naked breast. At the very same moment he drew forth the kurbàsh from under his angereb, and swinging it backwards and forwards, brought it down with fearful violence upon her back. As he did not attend to my call from the cabin, but struck so furiously that her skin broke and blood poured down in streams, I jumped out and pulled him backwards by his angereb, so that his legs flew in the air. However, he sprang up again immediately, bounded to the side of the ship, and shouted, with a menacing countenance, “Effendi,” instead of calling me “Kawagi,” which is the usual title for a Frank and a merchant. I had scarcely, however, returned to my cabin, ere he seized his slave again to throw her overboard. I immediately caught up my double-barrel, stood in the doorway, and called out “Ana oedrup” (I’ll fire), whereupon he let her go, and said, with a pallid countenance, that she was his property and he could do as he liked with her. He at last suppressed his anger, when I explained to him that his own head as well as all his Harim, belonged to the Basha. Subsequently he ventured to complain of me to the commandant, who, knowing his malignant and hypocritical character, removed him to the little sandal, to the great delight of the whole crew. On our return to Khartùm he was cringing enough to want to kiss my hand and ask my pardon, (although he had become a captain in the Basha’s guard), because the Basha distinguished me.

A few days previously I had had an opportunity of gaining the affection and confidence of our black soldiers. One of them, a Tokruri or pilgrim from Darfùr had, in a quarrel with an Arab, drawn his knife and wounded him. He jumped overboard to drown himself, for he could not swim, and was just on the point of perishing when he drifted to our ship, where Feïzulla-Capitan no sooner perceived him than he sprang down from behind the helm and saved him, with the assistance of others. He was taken up and appeared nearly dead, and on intelligence being conveyed from the other vessels that he had murdered a Muslim, some of our people wished to throw him again immediately into the water. This, however, being prevented, they thought of making an attempt to resuscitate him, by standing him up on his head. I had him laid horizontally upon his side, and began to rub him with an old ferda belonging to one of my servants. For the moment no one would assist me, as he was an “Abit,” until I threatened the Captain that he should be made to pay the Basha for the loss of his soldiers. After repeated rubbing, the tokruri gave some signs of life, and they raised him half up, whilst his head still hung down. One of the sailors, who as a faki, pretended to be a sort of awakener of the dead, seized him from behind, under the arms, lifted him up a little, and let him, when he was brought into a sitting posture, fall thrice violently on his hinder end, whilst he repeated passages from the Koràn, and shouted in his ears, whereupon the tokruri answered with a similar prayer. Superstition goes so far here, that it is asserted such a pilgrim may be completely and thoroughly drowned, and yet retain the power of floating to any shore he pleases, and stand there alive again.