Chapter IX (1)

Tour through the Mittoo country. Early morning in the wilderness.
Soldier carried away by a lion. Dokkuttoo. Fishing in the
Roah. Feeding a slave caravan. Ngahma. Dimindoh, the hunter’s
Seriba. Wounds from the grass. Dangadduloo. Entertainment in the
Seribas. The river Rohl. Reception at Awoory. Footsore. Trial
of patience. People of the district. Poncet’s Seriba Mvolo.
Mercantile prospects for the Egyptian Government. Fantastic
character of landscape. Structure of pile-work. Rock-rabbits.
Rock-rabbits’ feet. Nile cataract in miniature. The _Tinnea
æthiopica_. Seriba Karo on the Wohko. Reggo and its breed of
dogs. Kurraggera. Aboo Sammat’s festivities. A speech of the
Kenoosian. Aboo Sammat and the subjugated chiefs. Deragoh and
its mountains. Kuddoo on the Roah. Fear of lions in the forest
of Geegyee. Return to Sabby. The Mittoo people. Inferiority of
race. Disfiguration of the lips by Mittoo women. Fetters of
fashion. Love of music.

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: CARRIED OFF BY A LION.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: FORCED PROVISIONS.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: TREATMENT OF WOUNDS.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: COLD CUP.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: IDENTIFICATION OF ROUTE.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: VARIOUS NAMES OF THE ROHL.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: MY FOOT INFLAMED.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: THE BANNER OF ISLAM.]

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

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

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

[Sidenote: SLAVE DEALING.]

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: ROCK-RABBITS.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: ANIMALS AROUND MVOLO.]

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: DUGWARA.]

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

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

[Sidenote: THE RIVER WOHKO.]

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