Chapter XX (1)

A disastrous day. Failure to rescue my effects. Burnt Seriba
by night. Comfortless bed. A wintry aspect. Rebuilding the
Seriba. Cause of the fire. Idrees’s apathy. An exceptionally
wet day. Bad news of Niam-niam expedition. Measuring distance
by footsteps. Start to the Dyoor. Khalil’s kind reception.
A restricted wardrobe. Temperature at its minimum. Corn
requisitions of Egyptian troops. Slave trade carried on
by soldiers. Suggestions for improved transport. Chinese
hand-barrows. Defeat of Khartoomers by Ndoruma. Nubians’ fear
of bullets. A lion shot. Nocturnal disturbance. Measurements
of the river Dyoor. Hippopotamus hunt. Habits of hippopotamus.
Hippopotamus fat. Nile whips. Recovery of a manuscript.
Character of the Nubians. Nubian superstitions. Strife in the
Egyptian camp.

The description which has already been given of the large establishment owned by the firm of Ghattas, where, with all my provisions, I was now awaiting the start of the caravan, must have made the place in a large degree familiar to the reader. For the dearer apprehension of the event I have now to relate it may be advisable to repeat the following particulars. The colony consisted of about six hundred huts and sheds, which were built almost entirely of straw and bamboo. In the intervals between the huts were erected the large sun-screens known as “rokooba,” which were made of the same materials; and, to separate allotment from allotment, there were long lines of fences, which were likewise composed of straw, and these were arranged so close to each other that they scarcely admitted the narrowest of passages, perhaps but a few feet across, to run between them. Everything that human ingenuity could contrive seemed to have been done to insure that, with the cessation of the rainy season there should commence a period of the extremest peril, and, for myself, I can avow that fear of fire became my bugbear by day and my terror by night. In spite of my remonstrances I saw the crowding together of the huts continually become more and more dense, and the enclosure packed full to the utmost limits of its capacity. It became a manifest impossibility in the case of the occurrence of fire, on however small a scale, to prevent it spreading into such a conflagration that the safety of the whole establishment must be imperilled. The material of the structures, dried in the tropical heat, would accelerate and insure the devastation that must necessarily ensue.

The catastrophe, which I had dreaded with such ominous apprehension, befell us at midday on the 1st of December.

This most disastrous day of my life had opened in the accustomed carrying out of its routine. I had been engaged all the morning with my correspondence and in arranging the notes of the various occurrences that had transpired since the despatch of my previous budget. I had partaken of my frugal midday meal, and was just on the point of resuming my writing, when all at once I caught the sound of the excited Bongo shrieking out “poddu, poddu” (fire, fire!) Long, how long none can tell, will the memory of this burst of alarm haunt my ear. It makes me shudder even now. Eager to know the truth, and to ascertain how far the ill-omened apparition of misfortune had already spread, I rushed to the doorway of my hut, and beheld that the devouring element was doing its work at a distance of only three huts from my own; the flame was rising fiercely from the top of a hut; there was no room for hope; just at that time of day the north-east wind always blew with its greatest violence, and it was only too plain that the direction of the gale was bringing the fire straight towards my residence. The space of a few minutes was all that remained for me to rescue what I could.

[Sidenote: MY DISASTER.]

Without an instant’s delay, my people flocked to the scene of the alarm. Without stopping to discuss what was most prudent or to consider what was most valuable, they laid hold upon anything that came to hand. The negro-boys took particular care of all the stuffs, and of their own clothes as being of the greatest consequence in their estimation, and by their means all my bedding and two of my leathern portmanteaus were carried safely out of the Seriba. I myself flung my manuscript into a great chest which had already been provided against any accident of the sort, but my care was of no avail. My servants succeeded in hastily conveying five of my largest boxes and two cases to the open space of the Seriba where the direction of the wind made us presume they would be out of danger; but we only too soon learnt our mistake; the wind chopped and veered about, and the hot blasts fanned the flames in every direction till there was hardly a place to stand, and it was hopeless to reckon upon any more salvage. A prompt retreat became absolutely necessary; great masses of burning straw began to fall in every quarter, and the high fences of straw left but narrow avenues by which we could escape. The flames sometimes seemed to rise to a height of a hundred feet above the combustible structures of dry grass, and then all at once they would descend, but only to lick with destructive fury some adjacent spot, while a perpetual shower of hot sparks glared again in the roaring air. The crowds, as they rushed away before the advancing flames, were like a swarm of flies buzzing around a lighted torch. I cast a look towards the remnant of my property which we had thought we had rescued, and to my horror I perceived that the chests were enveloped in smoke, and immediately afterwards were encircled by the flames. It was a moment of despair. How my heart sank at the sight none can imagine, for those chests contained all my manuscripts, journals, and records, in comparison with which the loss of all the effects in my hut appeared utterly insignificant, though they were the burdens of a hundred bearers. Regardless of the shower of sparks, which singed off my very hair, I made a frantic rush forwards, the dogs, with their feet all scorched, howling at my side, and breathlessly stopped under a tree, where I found a shelter alike from the raging of the ardent flame and from the noonday glare. In the confusion of the flight I had been unable to get my hat, and was thus fully exposed to the midday heat.

Below us from amidst the crackling waves of fire came the crashing noise of the roofs as they collapsed, and ever and again there broke forth the louder report caused by the explosion of our ammunition, and many a loaded gun that had been left behind discharged itself and exposed the fugitives to a new and random danger. The Nubians behaved themselves with a strange composure, not to say indifference; the majority had little or nothing to lose, yet many an account-book must have perished in the flames, so that not a few of them hoped to turn the disaster to a profitable account. The priests, however, were not quite so unmoved; they stood before their doors and howled out the shrieking formulæ of their incantations, by which they pretended to control the course of the raging fire. It was very remarkable that the spot where a Faki had been buried, and which was marked with a white banner to distinguish it as a place for prayer, was spared from the general conflagration, although it was within a few yards of where my burnt chests had been laid. The departed Faki was now as good as a canonised saint, and had proved himself a genuine sheikh.

The entire Seriba by this time was wrapped in flames, which seemed still to spread in every quarter. The wind, as it rose, carried away with it whole bundles of smouldering straw, which it soon fanned into fire amidst the huts that were scattered round on the exterior of the palisade.

[Sidenote: THE RESIDUE OF MY EFFECTS.]

Very dry at this season, the steppe had hitherto been preserved, because the harvest was not yet complete, and it was not very long before this too was caught by the raging fire, and even the old trees around did not escape, so that it seemed almost as if the whole district were being submerged in a sea of flame. Half an hour had completed the great work of devastation. After that period it was possible to make a dash between the charred posts of the huts, but only for a few moments, so intense was the heat of the ground and so overpowering the glowing atmosphere that pervaded the scene of destruction. A crowd of people kept on bringing vessels of water to try and extinguish the flames before they had totally destroyed the clay “googahs” which held the sole supply of corn.

After a while I succeeded in getting to my garden, which, bereft of the greater part of its recently-constructed hedge of bamboo, presented a truly melancholy aspect. As the sun sank low we began to make a search for anything that might have been spared amidst the still glowing embers of the huts. I had saved little beyond my life. I had lost all my clothes, my guns, and the best part of my instruments. I was without tea and without quinine. As I stood gazing upon the piles of ashes I could not help reckoning up the accumulation of my labours which had there, beneath them all, been buried in this hapless destiny. All my preparations for the projected expedition to the Niam-niam; all the produce of my recent journey; all the entomological collection that I had made with such constant interest; all the examples of native industry which I had procured by so much care; all my registers of meteorological events which had been kept day by day and without interruption ever since my first departure from Suakin, and in which I had inscribed some 7000 barometrical observations; all my journals, with their detailed narrative of the transactions of 825 days; all my elaborate measurements of the bodies of the natives, which I had been at so much pains and expense to induce them to permit; all my vocabularies, which it had been so tedious a business to compile; everything, in the course of a single hour; everything was gone, the plunder of the flames. It had been for the sake of better protection, as I thought, that I had resolved not to part with my journals, and had kept my collection of insects in my own possession; I had been afraid of any misadventure befalling them; but now they might just as well have been at the bottom of the Nile.

There I sat amongst my tobacco-shrubs upon my stock of bedding that had been rescued from the flames; but I fear that I could not boast of overmuch of the spirit of resignation. The entire remnant of my property was soon reckoned up; it consisted of a couple of chests, my three barometers, an azimuth-compass, and the ironwork which survived from the different productions of the Niam-niam and Monbuttoo.

Evening drew on: just as usual, the cow with her calf came and provided me with two glasses of milk. I had a yam or two, a picking from the inside of a half-burnt tuber, a morsel from a similarly half-burnt lump of pickled meat, and I had come to the end of my slender stock of provisions. My dogs kept up a continual howling; their sufferings from their burnt feet must have been excessive, and they whined in concert with the general desolation. The servants, however, were as calm and undisturbed as usual. Neither the Nubians nor the negroes seemed to be much concerned; and why should they? They had just nothing to lose.

I looked around and counted up my party. It consisted of seven bipeds and seven quadrupeds; the same number of each, and each of about the same sensibility.

When the darkness of night had really set in, the region of the Seriba had all the aspect of an active colliery. The venerable fig-tree in front of the main entrance was still flaring away, and the palisade was yet burning, apparently shutting in the scene of ruin with a garland of light. It was a ghastly illumination. To the Nubians the spectacle was not altogether a novelty. The sight of a negro village in flames was to them familiar enough; but now the tables were turned, and they had to learn for themselves what it is to be hungry and destitute of every prospect of supply. Such were the conditions under which that night we had to seek our rest.

[Sidenote: DESOLATION.]

Hardly anything could be more impressive than the scene that revealed itself on the following morning. Not merely the places where the fire had raged, but the regions around were strewn with a thick layer of ashes; the steppes and sorghum-fields were whitened with them. It would be easy to have imagined that the glowing green of the tropics had for a time retreated, and allowed itself to be replaced by a gloomy and wintry vegetation transported from the arctic zone. Almost as white as snow were the layers of ashes that had settled on the sorghum-fields, only broken by the heaps of half-burnt clods that rose like hillocks of turf upon a moor. The smoke still lingered on the ground, and veiled the general scene; the trees seemed to stretch out their dry bare arms to heaven, and helped to complete the resemblance to the winterly aspect of the frozen world.

It was a pitiful sight to watch the brown and swarthy figures of the negroes, wrapped in their brown and swarthy rags, run hither and thither amongst the still smouldering ruins; and the wretchedness of the view was not a little aggravated by the bloated carcases of half-roasted donkeys and sheep that lay scattered about in various parts. Troops of women were bustling about and carrying water-vessels of every sort, eager in their endeavours to put out the lurking fire that was threatening the corn-magazines that hitherto had escaped. These clay-built reservoirs of corn were the only memorials that seemed to survive the devastation. Blackened indeed by the smoke, the “googahs” were still erect. Varying in height from five feet to seven, they were hardly ever wanting in the homes either of the Dyoor or Dinka: and now as they stood surmounting the otherwise universal _débris_, their very numbers made them conspicuous, and, forming a fantastic feature in the scene, gave their testimony as to what had been the crowded proximity of hut to hut.

Hurrying up from the surrounding country, the natives flocked to search for beads amidst the ruins, although every bead must necessarily have been spoilt. Others of them, with a better purpose, set to work to construct sheds of straw for the shelter of the houseless.

The next day was opened with a general effort to restore the buildings of the Seriba. Hundreds of Bongo, Dyoor, and Dinka brought the necessary wood, straw, and bamboos, and proceeded to construct their new huts with much dexterity: on an average, six men would completely finish a hut twenty feet in diameter in a couple of days.

No common sense had been learnt through the late calamity, for not only was the Seriba erected on the selfsame spot, but in the selfsame manner as before. The fear of being assassinated by the Dinka was assigned as the reason for refusing to follow the example of Khalil, the controller of Kurshook Ali’s Seriba, who, in rebuilding his establishment, had insisted upon placing the Vokeel’s residence and the magazines alone within the palisade, leaving the soldiers’ huts in detached groups outside. In vain, day after day, did I repeat my warning of the danger they were inviting of the repetition of a similar misfortune; but all my exhortations to care and prudence were utterly wasted; the people were obstinate, and I could not help passing many a sleepless night in continual dread of a second catastrophe that I was aware I was powerless to avert.

[Sidenote: ORIGIN OF THE MISFORTUNE.]

The cause of the fire, when subsequently discovered, did not give me the least surprise. One of Ghattas’s soldiers had been quarrelling with his slave, having accused her of unfaithfulness; and in order to frighten her, and extort a confession of her guilt, he had discharged a gun into the interior of his hut. I afterwards remembered hearing the report; as gunshots, however, were far from uncommon, I paid no particular attention to the circumstance: but the smouldering paper-cartridge had lodged in the straw-roof, and ten minutes later the hut was in flames. Although the origin of the fire was thus easily explained, the Mohammedan fatalists never swerved from their belief that the misfortune was unavoidable, and was ordained by the decree of destiny.

All my reproaches failed to reach the real offender, who immediately after the fire quitted the scene of the disaster he had brought about. But, in my opinion, Idrees, the controller, was himself primarily responsible for all the trouble. He allowed a senseless firing to be carried on inside the Seriba, not only at every new moon, but on a hundred other occasions, and I was in a perpetual state of vexation and anger whenever I saw the lighted wads flying about amongst the dry straw-roofs: then, again, he allowed each person to increase the number of his huts, rokoobas, and hedges, just as he liked, until the appearance of the Seriba was that of an inexplicable maze. In his capacity of Vokeel it was undoubtedly his place to allot a proper space to each individual; but so far from seeing that this was legitimately done, he himself did his utmost to increase the complication of buildings, and had erected a huge rokooba for his horse just in front of my hut; it was this very rokooba that had been the means of communicating the flames to the chests containing my manuscripts, as they stood on a portion of what, previously to its erection, had been a wide open space.

By the 11th of December some newly-built huts were at my disposal, a place of security on that day proving doubly welcome, as a heavy storm of rain came on about four o’clock in the morning, lasting for quite half an hour. This exceptional storm rose from the south-east, veered round to the south, and finally passed away towards the south-west. The entire day remained cold and dull, with slight showers falling at intervals. For the first time the temperature fell to 65° Fahr., having previously varied between 75° and 80°. The coldest season of the year now set in, and lasted for a couple of months; during this time the thermometer in the early morning was comparatively low, and the barometer varied much more continually than in the height of the rainy season.

Bad news flies apace, and following close upon the destruction of the Seriba came the intelligence of the total defeat of that first detachment of the Niam-niam expedition that had been despatched to the south; besides a number of native bearers, 150 Mohammedans were reported to have lost their lives.

The immediate effect of these disastrous tidings was to make me know that all hope of extending my wanderings in that direction must finally be abandoned. Bitter as had been the misfortune that had befallen me, it would not of itself have deterred me from my project of a second Niam-niam journey, but, now that Aboo Guroon was killed, there was no one who could provide me afresh with such articles as I had lost. I possessed neither boots nor shoes, guns nor ammunition, paper nor instruments, and even my watches, which were so essential to me, were gone; what use then to think any further of a journey to unknown countries under such circumstances as these? Convinced of the vanity of any attempt to proceed, I was therefore obliged, with a heavy heart, to turn my thoughts towards Europe; no succours could reach me for more than a year, and even then my great distance from Egypt made their safe arrival more than doubtful.

Still more than six months remained before the trading-boats would start on their return journey down the Nile; I felt bound to employ this time to the best of my powers, and I was not long left to make up my mind as to what I would do. Amongst the few of my effects that were snatched from the flames I discovered ink, together with materials for writing and drawing: and the sight of some sketches that had accidentally been rescued with my bedding first roused me from my feelings of total despair, and told me that I must once again begin to collect and investigate, and preserve my observations by means of pen and pencil. Necessarily somewhat depressed in spirits I once again turned to as many of my former pursuits as I could, although I felt the increasing pressure of poverty and hardship, and was as dependent as a beggar upon the hospitality of the Nubians, many of whom viewed my presence in the country with suspicion and distrust. My present discomfort was still further aggravated by its contrast with the comparative ease and abundance which the arrival of my European stores had latterly afforded me.

[Sidenote: FAREWELL TO THE SERIBA.]

I came to the resolution of quitting the scene of my disaster, and, accompanied by my servants, determined to withdraw to Kurshook Ali’s[58] Seriba beyond the Dyoor, where I knew that Khalil, the kind-hearted controller, would render me what relief he could under my present urgent necessities, although the amenities of life to which the Nubians had any pretension were very few. Accordingly on the 16th of December, followed by a small herd of cows, I turned my back upon the Seriba that had arisen from the ashes of its predecessor, and started by a new and more southerly route for my intended quarters.

For nearly three years my watches had gone with remarkable accuracy, they were ordinary Geneva _ancres perfectionnées_, having cost about twenty-five thalers a-piece; their loss was quite irreparable, for the Nubians have no other means of computing time than upon the great dial of the firmament,[59] which requires no winding up, and they tell the hour of the day by simply observing the position of the sun in the heavens. The only resource left to me for estimating the distance that I travelled was to count my steps, and in my despondency over my losses I found a kind of melancholy satisfaction in the performance of this monotonous task, which probably had never fallen before to the lot of any other African traveller. My patience, however, was, as it were, an anchor of safety that I threw out after my calamity: I seemed to myself like a ship, which, though seaworthy in itself, has thrown overboard its cargo as the only hope of getting into port. An enthusiast I set out, enraptured with nature in her wildest aspect, and an enthusiast should I have remained, had not the fire clipped my wings; but now, helpless on the inhospitable soil of Africa, I could not but be conscious how powerless I was to contend with the many obstacles, both physical and material, that beset my path; but in the place of enthusiasm, patience, that overcomes all misfortune, came to my aid, did me good service, and kept me from sinking.

[Sidenote: A PERAMBULATOR.]

I must confess that the first few days’ journey threatened to exhaust what spirit still remained to me, but by degrees my equanimity was restored, and persevering in my design I soon became accustomed to a practice to which I owe some of the most reliable results of the survey of my route. As a consequence of this method of counting my steps I succeeded in attaining very considerable accuracy in the relative distances noted on the map, although very probably I may have been unable to avoid an error of from 5 to 8 per cent. in the absolute distances themselves; of course, my steps were not so perfectly uniform in length as the divisions of a measuring rod; but, after all, the footsteps of a man are a much more accurate standard of measurement than those of a beast; the camel, for instance, as is well known, when it is urged to greater speed does not increase the number of its steps, but only increases their length; whilst the paces of a man, at whatever rate he may walk, do not vary much from an average length. Anyone may easily put this matter to the test for himself by measuring the distance between his footprints on the moist side of a river, and he will find that no increase nor diminution in his rate of progress will make a very material difference in their successive distances. My own paces varied, according to the nature of the roads, from two feet to two feet four inches in length, and my method of computation is readily described. I first counted hundreds, telling off each separate hundred on my fingers; when I had reached five hundred I made a stroke in my note-book, and on reaching another five hundred I made a reverse stroke upon the one already made, thus forming a cross, so that every registry of a cross betokened a thousand paces; all beyond five hundred were carried on towards the next stroke, and between the various strokes and crosses I inserted abbreviated symbols, as notes about the condition and direction of the road; thus I was prevented from either over or under estimating the number of my steps, and at the close of each day’s march was able at my leisure to sum up all the entries and duly record the result in my diary. In the six months that elapsed before my embarkation at the Meshera I had in this way taken account of a million and a quarter of my footsteps.

The route which I had taken towards the Dyoor led through Dubor and Dangah. On the 16th of December the Molmul was still full of water, but had no longer any perceptible current; the brook passed along a considerable, though gradual depression, the rising ground about Dubor being visible for a long distance to the west. All the pools and ponds by the wayside were now completely dry; a couple of swamps were all that remained of the affluent to which the copious brook near Okale,[60] with its surrounding groves of wine-palms, owes its existence. The Nyedokoo was reduced to half its former dimensions, and was now but fifteen feet wide and three deep, although the current was still strong.

Before its union with the Dyoor, the Nyedokoo receives a considerable increase in its waters from the left, and on our way north-west from Dangah we had to cross two small brooks, both flowing into the Dyoor; the larger of these was called the Kullukungoo. We made a short halt in a little Seriba belonging to Agahd’s company, and then began to descend the eastern side of the valley of the Dyoor, which might be described as a steep wall of rock eighty feet in height. We marched for a distance of four miles through a lovely wood on the right bank of the river, and were greatly diverted by the extraordinary quantity of hippopotamuses that frequented this part of the stream.

[Sidenote: COSTUME.]

I had the kindest of receptions from my old friend Khalil, who did all that lay in his power to make my visit enjoyable, and showed great sympathy with me in my misfortunes. His magazines were plentifully stored with stuffs and ammunition, and, as I had unlimited credit with him, he was able to supply me with some of the articles that were more immediately necessary. In the Seriba I found some people who understood something of the art of tailoring, and with their help I set to work, to the best of my ability, to make good the defects of my wardrobe. By taking to pieces the few garments that remained to me and using the fragments for patterns, I managed to procure some new clothes, all of which I cut out myself. In none of the Seribas was there a single piece of linen or of any durable material, and I could obtain nothing stronger than their thin calico, which, however well it might do for the costume of the effeminate Arabs, was hardly adapted for the pursuits of a hunter and botanist who spent all his days in thorny thickets. But a still more serious inconvenience was the want of any proper protection for my feet, and I could not at all get accustomed to wearing the light slippers of the Turks. The loss, too, of my hat was irreparable, but I contrived a sort of substitute by pasting together some thick cartridge-paper and sewing some white stuff over the whole; this hat possessed considerable durability, and in lightness was all that I could desire. In spite of the poverty of my wardrobe I was rejoiced to find that in cleanliness at least it was a match for that of the Khartoomers, who attach great importance to their washing-garments being of a spotless whiteness. The superiors amongst them, such as the Vokeels and the agents of the trading firms, even in these remote districts, not unfrequently appear in Oriental costume as gorgeous as though they were parading the streets of Khartoom; they all possess cloth clothes made in the Egyptian Mamelook fashion, and these are donned on special occasions, as, for instance, whenever they pay formal visits to their neighbours. For my own part I could never consent to array myself in an Oriental costume, knowing that the most meagre garb of European cut commands far higher respect throughout the domains of the Egyptian Viceroy than all the most brilliant and elaborate uniforms of the East. The adoption of the European style of dress in Egypt itself has been remarkably rapid, and between the years 1863 and 1871 I noticed a very conspicuous alteration in this respect, although unfortunately the advance was limited to this external aspect.

The 25th of December was the coldest day that I experienced during my residence in the interior. Half an hour before sunrise the thermometer registered 60° Fahrenheit, whilst on the two preceding mornings at the same hour it had stood at about 62° Fahrenheit; but it never afterwards fell so low again, and notwithstanding the coldness of the mornings the temperature at midday rose regularly above 85° Fahrenheit, and on the 28th the thermometer out of doors and exposed to a north wind registered 96° Fahrenheit in the shade, whilst inside the huts it rose no higher than 88° Fahrenheit. The uniformity of the temperature throughout the year is a remarkable peculiarity of these far inland districts, which in winter-time are neither subject to the great heat in the middle of the day nor to the cold by night, which are experienced in the steppes and deserts of Nubia. The temperature of 60° Fahrenheit was the lowest that was registered during a residence of two years and a half, and was quite exceptional, only lasting for a couple of hours just before sunrise. As a comparison between this and the relatively cool climate of Tropical America I may mention that observations in Guatemala gave the average temperature for a period of twelve years as the same as this one exceptional minimum registered throughout my two and a half years’ residence in Central Africa.

The camp of the Egyptian Government troops had been removed to the west, and was now a good seven days’ march beyond the Dyoor. For the maintenance of the troops, contributions were levied on all the Seribas: the Government, it is true, paid two Maria Theresa dollars for each ardeb (1½ cwt.) of corn; but as the bearers from the more remote places were obliged either to consume more than half of their own loads upon their journey, or else to obtain extra provisions from the Seribas through which they passed, this payment was necessarily very inadequate. Some of the controllers managed to raise their portion of the compulsory tribute by sending herds of cattle to those Seribas that were nearest to the camp, and there getting them exchanged for the required corn; but as some of the settlements were as much as twenty days’ journey from the encampment, it was perfectly impossible to provide means of transport to such a distance, and besides this difficulty, there was a constant occurrence of scarcity of corn in all the Seribas; the unreasonable Turkish commander, however, took not the smallest heed of these inconveniences, but, by insisting upon the full satisfaction of his demands, went far towards hurrying the settlements into bankruptcy and ruin.

Instead of introducing order and regularity into the country, the first measures of the Government official tended only to engender odium and discontent, and completely crippled all the more promising tendencies of the mercantile intercourse of the Seribas. For the suppression of the slave-trade they did absolutely nothing. Along the Nile, it is true, where the route was open and everything obliged to be above-board, the Governor-General had commenced proceedings for the suppression of the slave-trade by a series of bombastic and pompous proclamations; but here, in the deep interior, there was every facility for the carrying on of the avowedly prohibited traffic.

[Sidenote: SURREPTITIOUS SLAVE-TRADE.]

Nowhere in the world can more inveterate slave-dealers be found than the commanders of the small detachments of Egyptian troops; as they move about from Seriba to Seriba, they may be seen followed by a train of their swarthy property, which grows longer and longer after every halt.

In the course of my narrative I have repeatedly shown that the inadequacy of the means of transport throws great difficulties in the way of the maintenance of a large and concentrated body of men. Fifty pounds is the standard weight of a bearer’s burden on the longer journeys, and it does not require much calculation to make it evident that in comparatively a few days this burden will be materially encroached upon by the bearer himself having to be maintained by means of what he carries; he must necessarily exhaust it by his own requirements. Thus, for marches of many days’ duration, man becomes the most unsuitable of all instruments for transporting provisions. It was, therefore, not unnaturally a matter of constant consideration with me as to whether this difficulty might be obviated in any way, and whether longer expeditions might be undertaken into the interior without that continual risk of the failure of their means of subsistence, which was now so perpetually threatening them as often as they had to make their way either across uninhabited wildernesses or through hostile territory.

The introduction into these lands of carts drawn by oxen, such as are in use in South Africa, could only be done with very great caution, as it would involve much outlay both of time and money; in the first place, the transport of the heavy waggons themselves into the country would be far from easy, and then drivers who could train the beasts to their work would have to be obtained from remote districts; and even if these preliminary obstacles were overcome, it remains somewhat doubtful whether the breed of Dinka cattle could produce animals of sufficient strength and powers of endurance for such a purpose. In addition to all this I have already shown, in my account of my Niam-niam journey, that it would be impossible to penetrate with bullock-waggons of any sort beyond latitude 5° N.

It has been proved by experience that all donkeys, mules, horses, and camels succumb sooner or later to the effects of the climate; thus oxen would remain the only animals available as beasts of burden; but as those of the Dinka would be as incapable of carrying loads as of drawing waggons, it would be necessary to import suitable cattle from the Baggara Arabs, thus following the example of the slave-traders from Kordofan and Darfoor, who thence obtain all the animals that they use for riding.

Any sort of hand-truck in these countries must necessarily be limited to a single wheel, for, as I have often said, the paths are everywhere quite narrow, being in fact no wider than ordinary wheel-ruts; in most cases they barely allow any one whilst he is walking to put one foot before the other, as the tall grass closely hems in the avenue on either hand.

[Sidenote: SUGGESTION FOR HAND-TRUCKS.]

After giving much attention to the subject, I am convinced that the most suitable form for any hand-trucks would be something like that used by the Chinese, running upon a single large wheel, which the framework that contains the goods spans like a bridge; a construction which, it is well known, permits loads of considerable weight to be moved by one man. In Central Africa, however, these trucks would have to be made chiefly of steel and iron, and ought to be constructed so that they should be propelled by a couple of men, one pushing behind and one pulling in front, by means of two poles run longitudinally through the barrows. They would then, I think, be applicable to every variety of soil, and would be equally adapted for the swamps and for the flooded depressions of the rivers, for the rocky ground of the mountainous regions, for the densest forest, and for what to broader waggons would present hardly inferior difficulties—for the open steppes. I should estimate that, at a very moderate computation, trucks of this build could bear upwards of five hundredweight; and thus the traveller would find the number of men he wanted reduced to one-fifth, and still be in a position to convey everything that was really necessary. In 1870 I drew the attention of African travellers to this style of truck, made almost exactly upon the principle of the Chinese hand-barrows, and I have since submitted it to the notice of the German African Society, just now formed, in the hopes that it may not immaterially assist their expedition from the coast of Loango.

I spent the remainder of the year in Kurshook Ali’s Seriba. Whilst I was there, some Nubian soldiers arrived, who, having been eye-witnesses of the late engagement with the Niam-niam, brought us more circumstantial evidence of the defeat that the united forces of the several trading companies had suffered. The caravan had been composed from the three companies of Aboo Guroon, Hassaballa, and Kurshook Ali, and included a larger number of bearers than it was customary to take into the Niam-niam lands; thus the entire party numbered close upon 2250, of which not less than 300 were provided with firearms. The accompanying train of women slaves, that had never been tolerated at all in the earlier expeditions, had been gradually increasing from year to year, and was now of such dimensions as materially to impede the daily movements of the Khartoomers, as well as to increase the confusion in the event of war. The leaders had striven in vain to do away with this abuse, but as it was with some difficulty that these undisciplined soldiers could be prevailed upon to join the arduous enterprises at all, they were obliged in this respect at least to let them have their own way. The assault had been made at a spot about a day’s journey to the north of the residence of Ndoruma, the son of Ezo, just as the caravan with all the baggage was entering the obscure gallery of a bank-forest, and after the two leaders, Aboo Guroon and Ahmed Awat, on their mules at the head of the procession, had already emerged from the farther end. To the consternation of the Nubians, the attack was rendered doubly formidable by the skilful use of the firearms which the Niam-niam employed against them from behind the massive tree-stems. Cut off from their people, the two leaders were killed at the outset of the conflict, the one by a lance and the other by a bullet.

[Sidenote: A REPULSE.]

During the whole course of the battle, Aboo Guroon’s people alone displayed any shadow of bravery. A detachment forced their way through the gallery, and rescued the body of their leader from the hands of the enemy, so that this old servant of Petherick, one of the earliest and most experienced of the traders with the Niam-niam, was consigned to an honourable grave, whilst the dead bodies of all his fellow-sufferers fell into the hands of the Niam-niam. Ndoruma, who led on the attack in person, had some months previously captured large quantities of guns and ammunition, and as he was in possession of several fugitive slaves from the Seribas who had been familiarised with the use of firearms, he had lost little time in compelling them to impart their knowledge to their fellow-countrymen. The Nubians have the most pusillanimous dread of bullets, and any savage nation that enjoys the reputation of having guns in its possession may be tolerably sure of being spared any visits from them. It may therefore be imagined with what success the Niam-niam pursued their victory, and with what disgrace the intruders retreated in hasty flight. All the baggage, including a hundred loads of powder and ammunition, fell into the bands of Ndoruma; and a proper value the cunning cannibal seemed to know how to set upon his booty, for I was informed, that he at once erected waterproof magazines for the protection of his treasure, and diligently set to work to have his people well-drilled in the use of the weapons they had captured.

From what I could gather from some Niam-niam with whom I had communication, Ndoruma’s enmity towards the Khartoomers was not entirely founded upon the exhaustion of the ivory-produce of his country. The Nubians, too short-sighted to foresee the consequences of their folly, are accustomed, whenever they can do so without injury to themselves, to commence an unjustifiable system of depredations upon any land from which they have no longer anything to gain by an amicable trade. In this way they have acted with impunity to themselves towards the Bongo, Mittoo, and others; but with the Niam-niam, a people whose strength consists in their constitutional unity, they have exposed themselves to a severe retribution. In their repeated razzias against the surrounding nations they have been addicted to the practice of carrying off the women and girls, and this has roused the Niam-niam, who ever exhibit unbounded affection for their wives, to the last degree of exasperation. It is this diabolical traffic in human beings that acts as the leading incentive to these indiscriminating Nubians, and has caused so much detriment, by the decimation of the Bongo, to their possessions. In one part, as amongst the Bongo, it has resulted in bringing about an insufficiency of labour, and in another, as amongst the Niam-niam, it has thrown a barricade of hostility across their further progress.

Of the three companies that had met with this serious repulse, Kurshook Ali’s company had suffered the smallest loss; its column of bearers, who were bringing up the rear of the procession, had retreated in time; but of the soldiers of the company, who had naturally hastened to the assistance of their fellow-countrymen, ten were killed and four more were carried away severely wounded. According to the protocol that Khalil received, all of these had been pierced by bullets. Apart from the grievous loss of life and property that this occurrence entailed, it foreboded nothing but discouragement for the future of the ivory trade; the controllers of the Seribas felt absolutely powerless before the overwhelming fact that the Niam-niam had used firearms, and, under the circumstances, they were entirely at a loss to know how to induce their disheartened troops to re-enter the formidable country. The soldiers openly declared that they had been hired to fight against savages on the Upper Nile, and by savages, they meant people who used lances and arrows; but to do battle with people who were armed with genuine bullets was going beyond their contract, and this they positively refused to do.

All the bearers who had escaped from the conflict with their lives, hurried back in crowds to their settlements, and circulated in the environs of the Seribas the most horrible accounts of the heartrending massacre they had witnessed. As the demands of the expedition had nearly emptied several of the Seribas of their fighting force, those settlements that were on the Dinka frontiers were consequently for the time considerably exposed to the danger of attack from their neighbours. Accordingly, in the course of a few days, it happened that we were solicited by the inhabitants of a neighbouring Seriba of the deceased Aboo Guroon to send them an armed succour, as the Dinka around them were assuming a most threatening attitude. Khalil complied with their request by sending a small detachment of soldiers to co-operate with the remnant of armed men who had been left in charge of the garrison.

All these events combined to give my life in the Seriba much more excitement than before, and my intercourse with strangers was far from unfrequent. Many of the Gellahbas, mounted upon their donkeys or Baggara oxen, passed through the place to do business in the purchase of living ebony, and their rivals, the Turkish soldiers, ever and anon paid us a visit whilst on their way to make their requisitions of corn at the adjacent Seribas.

[Sidenote: A LION SHOT.]

On one occasion the surprising intelligence was brought us that a lion had been shot on the sandy bed of the retreating Dyoor. In the early morning the animal had gone to quench its thirst at the river, and had been tracked down to the water’s edge by a troop of soldiers who happened to be passing by; one of their number, though but an indifferent marksman, had aimed from a short range, and had succeeded in mortally wounding the lion by a shot in the head. The skin was dressed and converted into a splendid saddle-cloth, whilst the head was stuffed, and devoted to the mysterious purposes of magic.

One night a deafening uproar suddenly arose: it was followed by a horrible yell, accompanied by what sounded like the wails, screeches, and howls of a lot of terrified women. Every one started to his feet; the soldiers seized their weapons; the captain of the Turkish guard, who happened to be in the place with a party of bazibozuks, rushed out with his troop, and increased the confusion by sending forth a whole volley of the usual oaths and imprecations. It turned out, however, that there was no demand either for his military services or for any of his bombastic bluster. The simple cause of the tumultuous outcry was the fall of an enormous tree near the Seriba. To save the trouble of felling this monster of the woods it had been gradually undermined by fire, and the negroes, in the course of one of their nightly orgies, had been waiting for the moment of its downfall, and were now bellowing and dancing like maniacs around the prostrate and still smoking mass.

On the 25th I made an excursion to the banks of the Dyoor, for the purpose of hunting hippopotamuses, as well as of verifying the condition of the river by taking measurements in two fresh places. Six miles to the S.S.E. of the Seriba, I reached the left bank of the river at a place where it was overgrown with tall reeds, and on our return we crossed again four miles farther below. Between these two positions was a deep basin, in which a number of hippopotamuses throughout the year found sufficient water in which to perform their evolutions. A couple of miles still lower down were situated the two crossing-places of earlier date. Between the most northerly and the most southerly of the four spots I have mentioned, the general direction of the Dyoor is due north, varied by gentle windings to the N.N.E. and N.N.W. Beginning at the most northerly, and taking them in order, I will now proceed to give the result of my observations on the condition of the Dyoor at each of the four places where I crossed it either by boat or by swimming.

1. At the first spot the entire bed was 800 feet wide, but on the 28th of April, 1869, the water only extended to the width of eighty feet, being from one to four feet in depth, The edge of the bank stood from twenty to twenty-five feet above the water.

2. At the next point of examination the measuring-line gave the width of the bed from bank to bank as 302 feet. On the 8th of May, 1869, the river was full, and three or four feet deep. On the 27th of October, and on the 1st of November, 1870, the depth was from sixteen to twenty feet, whilst the banks were already three or four feet above the surface of the water. The velocity of the current on the left and western shore was 105 feet per minute, whilst on the eastern it was 137½ feet. It could be seen by the flood-marks that in the height of the rainy season (_i.e._ in August and September) the entire depression, extending from 1000 to 1200 paces on the left shore, and only 100 paces broad on the right, was covered with water to a depth of three or four feet.

[Sidenote: THE BED OF THE DYOOR.]

3. The bed of the river at the third place, where I submitted it to my examination, was 328 feet wide, and on the 18th and 25th of December was full. For a distance of sixty feet from the right-hand bank, the depth of the water was little more than a foot, then for 100 feet in the middle of the stream it was about two feet, and subsequently for the remainder of the width as far as the left bank it increased to four feet. On the western shore, where the river depression stretched out in wide tracts, the current was far stronger than on the eastern, where the wooded rocks extend close down to the edge of the water. Near this place the condition of the depression of the river was exceptional, being of an equal breadth of about 600 feet on either side of the stream.

4. The bed of the stream at the last of my points of observation was, according to the measuring-line, 492 feet wide. On the 25th of December, 1870, it was only half full of water. Near the reedy left-hand bank alone was the water of any considerable depth: at that spot it was about four feet deep, but nowhere else was it more than two feet. The current was strongest in the middle of the stream: it is a peculiarity of the Dyoor that its current has always the same velocity, and does not appear to be at all affected by the variations in the height of the water.

I sat for hours upon the rocky slopes of the right bank of the river watching the hippopotamuses as they plunged about in the water, and occasionally firing at them as opportunities occurred for an aim; but a light rifle was all that I had saved from the fire, and the small shot that it carried did not have much effect upon the unwieldy beasts. The range of my rifle was rarely more than 150 feet, and of the hundred shots that I discharged very few did any serious damage, and only two animals appeared to be mortally wounded. Early on the following morning the natives of the surrounding districts found the body of one of the creatures that I had killed by a bullet behind the ear lying amongst the reeds in the river-bed, and they spent several hours in cutting up the ponderous carcase.

The colour of nearly all these animals was a dark fleshy red, almost like raw meat, marked irregularly with large black spots; I also saw specimens of a lighter shade, but never of a pure white; in the sunshine their damp bodies assumed quite a blueish-grey hue. Half of the hippopotamuses that I noticed at this deep part of the river, which extended for about a mile, were females carrying their young, which at this season seemed very weak and undeveloped, and sat astride on the short necks of their mothers. The females appeared to rise to the surface of the water for the sake of their young far more frequently than was necessary for their own accommodation, and unlike the males, which usually show their mouth and nostrils, they only lifted their young above the water, whilst their own heads generally remained invisible. The animals seem to utter different sounds at different seasons; they now snorted and grunted, or rather groaned, and the sharp rattling gurgle was less distinct than in the spring. In the sunlight the fine spray emitted from their nostrils gleamed like a ray of light.