Chapter XXII (1)

Underwood of Cycadeæ. Peculiar mills of the Kredy. Wanderings in
the wilderness. Crossing the Beery. Inhospitable reception at
Mangoor. Numerous brooks. Huge emporium of slave-trade. Highest
point of my travels. Western limit. Gallery-woods near Dehm
Gudyoo. Scorbutic attack. Dreams and their fulfilment. Courtesy
of Yumma. Remnants of ancient mountain ridges. Upper course
of the Pongo. Information about the far west. Great river of
Dar Aboo Dinga. Barth’s investigations. Primogeniture of the
Bahr-el-Arab. First giving of the weather. Elephant-hunters from
Darfoor. The Sehre. Wild game around Dehm Adlan. Cultivated
plants of the Sehre. Magic tuber. Deficiency of water. A
night without a roof. Irrepressible good spirits of the
Sehre. Lower level of the land. A miniature mountain-range.
Norway-rats. Gigantic fig-tree in Moody. The “evil eye.” Little
steppe-burning. Return to Khalil’s quarters.

As time elapsed, and I considered the life that I was leading, I could not help thinking that there was something in the lines of the Russian poet that was not altogether inappropriate to myself:—

“_Two years had passed; the gypsies still
Their frank and lawless lives fulfil;
From heath to heath they push, nor stay,
But find new quarters every day,
All heed for culture cast away:
And Aleck of their guild is free,
Nor kith nor kin remain his joy,
New pastimes every hour employ,
For gypsy, heart and soul, is he!_”[75]

It was on the 22nd of January that I prepared to resume my wanderings. In the evening I took my leave of Sheikh Seebehr, and attended by six bearers, with which he had provided me, I departed from the Seriba.

My first destination was the settlement of one of the companies associated with Kurshook Ali, which was situated on the Beery, about twenty miles from Dehm Nduggo. The route for the most part was in a south-westerly direction, over elevated ground that was channeled by no less than ten running streams and khor beds, and along country that was splendidly adorned with goodly forests. The defiles extended from the south-east to the north-west, and stretched away towards the valley of the Beery, which ran parallel to our course at a few miles’ distance to the right.

The first irregularity in the soil which crossed our way consisted of a deep river-course, which was now quite dry and shaded over by thick foliage; the second was made by the stream of the Uyeely, which, flowing out from a narrow streak of thicket that corresponded very much in its vegetation with the galleries of the Niam-niam, with deliberate current passed onwards to the west. Midway between the Uyeely and the next stream, called the Uyissobba (the native word for “a buffalo”), which consisted of a series of pools that ranged themselves in a continuous series along an open swamp-steppe, there stood a grove of tall trees. I was much surprised to find the frequent occurrence of the same species of Cycadea which I had observed in the Niam-niam lands, but which here, through the absence of any underwood, made a majestic upward growth, and expanded their noble fans at the summit of a stately stem. The Kredy Nduggo call the encephalartus “kotto,” and my attendants acquainted me with the fact that they could manufacture a sort of beer out of the central portion of the stem, which was marrowy and full of meal. Some of the specimens that I saw had great cylindrical stems two feet high, a contrast very decided to those that I had previously seen, which were all quite low upon the ground. The male flowering heads were often as many as eight or ten upon a single stem. In the shadowy light admitted by the tall Humboldtiæ that towered above, their stiff crowns had all the appearance of being alien to the scene and a decoration imported from some foreign soil.

[Sidenote: KREDY HUTS.]

After crossing a rippling brook we came to a village belonging to the Kredy chief, Ganyong, on Seebehr’s territory. The fishing-nets, forty feet long and eight feet broad, with their great meshes and floating rims made of the stalks of the borassus, bore ample testimony, as they hung outside the huts, to the productiveness of the Beery. Nets so large as these I had never seen in the country, except among the tribes that people the banks of the Dyoor.

The style of building amongst the Kredy appeared to me extremely slovenly and inartistic. Most of the huts were entirely wanting in substructure, and consisted merely of a conical roof of grass raised upon a framework of hoops. They recalled to my mind the huts of the Kaffirs. Ganyong had some corn-magazines of a very remarkable construction. They were made very much upon the principle of the “gollotoh” of the Bongo, having a kind of basket supported on posts and covered with a large conical lid; but underneath the main receptacle and between the posts there was a space left large enough for four female slaves to do all the necessary work for converting the corn into meal. A deep trench was cut, and, being firmly cemented over with clay, formed a common reservoir into which the corn fell after it had passed from the murhagas or grindstones. The stones were arranged so as to form a cross. The women who were employed sang merrily as they worked, and in the course of a day the quantity of corn they ground was very considerable.

At the next hollow, which appeared to have been a marsh that was now dry, was a kind of defile rather thickly sprinkled over with huts, where we found the native women busily engaged in gathering the Lophira-nuts that they call “kozo,” and use for making oil. The succeeding brook was named the Uyuttoo, and was lined on either side by avenues of trees; it was not much more than a trench, but it was full of water. Farther on, right in the heart of the wood, we made a passage over a khor, and having for a while mistaken our way, we made a halt at a rivulet that was but eight feet wide, but abundantly supplied with running water. It was already quite dusk, and we were obliged to abandon all hope of getting as far as the Seriba that day. I sent my bearers, therefore, to make the best investigation they could of the surrounding country, and to find out some settlement where we could encamp for the night, as it appeared to be quite impossible for us to bivouac with any degree of comfort in the midst of the still vigorous growth of grass. During the Khareef these thickets must be absolutely impenetrable.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER BEERY.]

Just in time a village belonging to Kurshook Ali was discovered, and, after making a circuitous route to the south-east, we fixed upon a convenient resting-place for the night. Next morning we proceeded down to the river over very irregular ground, up hill and down hill and repeatedly broken by deep fissures. The dimensions of the Beery in this district were anything but important: it flowed towards the west, making a good many bends and curves, and after a while turning short off to the north. At this date it extended over about two-thirds of the width of its channel, the depth of the stream varying from one to two feet, and the water flowing at the rate of about one hundred feet a minute. The banks were about eight feet high, and were crowned on either hand by trees that, rising some fifty feet, threw out their boughs and overhung the stream to a considerable distance with a leafy canopy. I found a place in the most shadowed portion of the wood where the river had formed a deep basin, and I took a bath, which I found something more than refreshing, and with the temperature at 68° Fahr. I was obliged to take a good run to get warm again.

A mile to the south of the river there was an extensive tract of land covered by farmsteads, merely separated from each other by hedges, and inhabited principally by some Gellahbas who had settled there and by some of the black soldiers. Just beyond these, in a deep depression, the rivulet of the Rende made its way towards the north-west. Facing the settlement and towards the south, the valley sank very low, whilst towards the west and south-west, the country rose considerably in prominent wall-like ridges.

The controller of the place was named Mangoor, but he was unwell and out of temper, and consequently had no hospitality to show me, and allowed me and my people to start next day with empty stomachs and without any contribution of supplies. Nor was much to be got out of the native local overseer, Gassigombo, who had the supervision of such of the Kredy tribe of the Jongbongo who had settled there; the country was so impoverished that he had neither goats nor poultry to part with. An Egyptian, who was the representative of the sick controller, was really the person responsible for this ungracious reception, which was by far the worst of all that I ever experienced at any of the Khartoomers’ settlements. Between Nubians and Egyptians there goes on a continual jarring, and their mutual animosity is extremely bitter. The Nubians call the genuine Egyptians by the name of “Wollad-er-Reef,” the designation being given to them in distinction to the other residents on the Nile, although its real meaning is simply a Nile-dweller; the word “Reef,” in fact, is the name of the Nile throughout its course in Egypt.

The icy stolidness of my angry servants and the crabby resentment of the Egyptian, whom they had somehow managed to offend, gave me a vast fund of amusement in spite of my melancholy plight. On the following morning I found myself thoroughly unwell, and so weak that I hardly knew how I should hold out during the next stage of our progress to the next Dehm. I had now double cause to regret the loss of all my stock of tea, for although I tried to compensate for the want of it by taking an extra quantity of coffee, it did me but little good, and was comparatively useless in bracing up my nervous system. I made it, however, as strong as I could, and took it with me to sustain my flagging energies and keep up my elasticity as I went along.

[Sidenote: THROUGH WOODS AND OVER BROOKS.]

The Dehm Gudyoo, to which I was directing my steps, was about twenty-two miles distant, and was one of the chief establishments of the slave-traders who had settled in the country. There were no less than ten brooks to be crossed, of some of which the channels were partially dried up; every one of them without exception flowed from west to east towards the Beery, which lay from this point onwards upon our left hand, apparently following a southerly direction. The altitude above the sea, which hitherto upon the route from Dehm Nduggo had been tolerably uniform, began to increase considerably. The region was less thickly covered with trees, but light brushwood took their place, whilst the monotony of the steppes was broken by dwindling watercourses. These seemed to flow from north to south, and were described to me under the following names: the first was the Rende, and had a tolerably strong current; the next was the Buloo, flowing along in a deep rift between walls of red rock; then came the Zembey, a mere meadow-brook; to this succeeded the Kungbai, flowing in its channel along the open steppe; next in order was the Ramadda, a swamp-khor, that had but little current, on the banks of which a number of little springs were constantly yielding their fresh supply.

After this, the way began to ascend, blocks of hornblend and schist occurring every now and then to vary the uniformity of the general configuration of the soil. As we again descended we came to another series of brooks. The first was named the Biduleh, and ran rapidly along, its banks being clearly indicated by rows of Raphia-palms; the next was of similar character, called the Gatwee, its borders again lined by the Raphia: then came the Gobo, a much smaller stream that murmured along its red granite channel; and then the Kadditch, shut in by a kind of gallery vegetation. The last of the series, by which we passed the night, was a stream fifteen feet wide with a rapid current, the water of which was up to our knees; it was the Gresse, a feeder of the Beery, and here it had an aspect that very much resembled the Beery as we observed it at the unfriendly Dehm. It was now full 30 feet wide, and made its way amongst blocks and over flats of gneiss between lofty banks that slanted down abruptly to the stream. The declivity, amidst the openings of the thickets, revealed the red rock of the swamp-ore in many places, whilst down below, the flats of the gneiss were everywhere apparent.

From the Gresse we had still eight miles to march along very rising ground before we reached Dehm Gudyoo. As well as being one of the oldest halting-places of the slave-dealers of Dar Ferteet, and in number of huts quite equal to Dehm Nduggo, this town contained a Seriba of Agahd’s company, and served as the headquarters of a division of Khartoom soldiers, who made annual expeditions to the territory of the Niam-niam king Mofio, in the west. Gudyoo himself, formerly a Kredy chief and a great patron of the slave-dealers, had now settled down to the east on the banks of the Beery as an ordinary sheikh of Agahd’s possessions. Dehm Gudyoo formed the most westerly and, with the exception of Mount Baginze, the highest point that I visited in all my travels in Central Africa. The altitude of the Dehm was about 2775 feet, and not much less than 500 feet higher than Dehm Nduggo. From various indications in the character of the soil I seemed to have no alternative than to conclude that these elevations continue to rise still more decidedly beyond Dehm Gudyoo, and that most probably a considerable watershed would be found in the region in that direction.

The character of the vegetation reminded me in more than one respect of the flora of the Niam-niam lands. Dehm Gudyoo stretches itself out on the northern declivity of a valley, and consists of huts and farmsteads, which, rising one above another in a kind of amphitheatre, gave an imposing aspect to the scene. Probably the number of huts exceeded 2000. From a spring close to the lowest tier of houses issued a considerable brook, named the Kobbokoio, which was shadowed over with tall trees and thick bushwood that gave the borders very much the appearance of the Niam-niam galleries. In the farther environs of this Dehm there were a good many instances of plants that were very nearly allied to those of the Niam-niam, and the dualism which characterised the vegetation was very marked, and ever and again recalled what I had observed before. On the higher parts of the hill-slopes I found the _Albizzia anthelmintica_ in considerable quantities, the bark of which is the most effectual remedy that the Abyssinians are acquainted with for the tapeworm.

[Sidenote: SCORBUTIC ATTACK.]

Although I had cause to congratulate myself upon the hospitable reception that I found at Agahd’s Seriba, and appreciated the hospitality that was extended to me, my condition altogether was so wretched that I might almost as well have been left in the wilderness. A kind of scorbutic affection, that had for some little time been lurking in my system, probably in consequence of my having been deprived for so many months of proper vegetable diet, now broke out with some violence, my gums becoming so sore and the whole inside of my mouth so inflamed that I could not take anything but water without experiencing the greatest pain. The restricted supply of provisions in the place naturally aggravated my condition. As it happily fell out, Faki Ismael, the superintendent of the establishment, made me a present of some sweet potatoes, which he had just received from Dar Benda: at this season they were very scarce, but they were very acceptable, and were the only food of which I could venture to partake. In spite of my ailments, however, I did not suffer my three days’ residence in Dehm Gudyoo to pass away without employing them as profitably as I could: I made a collection of words in the Kredy dialect, and carefully inspected all the most interesting plants in the district.

Large quantities of the Ashantee pepper are found on the Kobbokoio, and just at this season the stem of the trees were so beautifully decorated with its red clusters that they gleamed from amongst the thickets almost as brightly as a flame of fire. The Kredy might in this place alone, without any difficulty, gather hundredweights of this pepper, which amongst them bears the name of Dehre. The Nubians who had taken up their quarters here had not the least idea of the useful properties of the plant, and it had never occurred to them that the red berries, after they were dried, would become black pepper-corns. My disclosure seemed to give them the greatest delight, and without delay they set to work to gather the pepper, which they designed to be sent off to Khartoom, a novelty in the way of their commerce. In the bank-woods I found some muscat-nuts which, in the previous year, I had not found on the Assika until the month of March. The straight growth of its stout stem never failed to attract attention.

At Dehm Gudyoo I learnt a great many details about the aspect of the land still farther west that had been traversed by the various companies of Agahd, Bizelly, Idrees Wod Defter, and Seebehr Adlan. When we took our departure I found that our road had a decline. In order to reach the Bongo territory again I proposed to proceed in a kind of arc towards the south-east down to the Dehm Bekeer, where the extensive establishments of the Gellahbas, stretching away for miles, were collected, and where Kurshook Ali was in possession of one of the most important strongholds which he had inherited from his father-in-law. In a straight line the distance between Dehm Gudyoo and Dehm Bekeer would not exceed five-and-thirty miles, but our deviations were so frequent and so long that it took us two days of exceedingly hard marching to reach our destination. The entire district, a thoroughly unbroken wilderness, was the true source-land of the Beery and the Kooroo, both of these rivers at the points where we crossed them being in the incipient condition of mere brooks; nor did they seem to surpass the other streamlets, thirteen in number, which we had to cross, in their supply of water.

[Sidenote: A SERIES OF STREAMS.]

The universal direction which the streams took was from south to north. Reckoning them in their order after leaving Dehm Gudyoo, the first was the Domwee, quite a little channel filled with a flowing current: after a considerable rise in the land, we came to the Ghessy Beery (_i.e._, the Little or Upper Beery), with its broad water almost stagnant and shadowed over by an extensive gallery-wood; then came a dried-up channel at the bottom of a broad and outspread valley, of which the western slopes were marked by crests of hills some 400 or 500 feet in height; to this succeeded an uphill march, which led to a soil so elevated that it opened an ample prospect into the far distant east, embracing at least the chief landmarks for some eighty miles round; next succeeded a brook called the Yagpak, of which the waters, still deep, were hemmed in by thick shrubberies; next came a little watercourse with languid stream; and then a rivulet twenty feet wide, full of water, and named the Gulanda, where we spent the night, the direction of which was indicated by the bushes on the banks. The level of the soil was here about 400 feet lower than it had been at Dehm Gudyoo. Farther on, close following upon each other, came two dried-up khors; after which the land once more began to rise again in alternate flats of gneiss and lofty eminences of swamp-ore, hills named Bakeffa and Yaffa lifting themselves up conspicuously on the east; next we reached a small dried-up course that intersected a valley made up of gneiss flats, bounded on the west by the elevation of a hill, called the Fee-ee; then, at about equal distances one from another, were crossed four khors, now dry, that gave an undulated character to the ground; proceeding onwards we came to the half-dry, half-swampy depression known as the Ohro; and last of all we arrived at an inconsiderable water-channel of which the stream was deep, but apparently stationary, and was described by the Kredy as being the upper course of the Kooroo, distinguished here by the name of the Mony.

The district over which we thus had travelled very much resembled the northern regions of the Kredy lands in its wooded character and in the absence of meadow-lands and steppes; only it was utterly wanting in that distinctive abundance of springs which is so marked in latitudes below lat. 8° N. The deficiency of water, in comparison to what we had before experienced, made itself very obvious. The flora offered some few novelties; in particular I was surprised at the cabbage-like Euphorbia (_Tithymalus_), which, though common in our zone, is quite a rarity in Tropical Africa.

In the dried-up watercourses I frequently saw one of the rodentia which had hitherto been little known to me: this was the reed-rat, called by the Foorians the “Far-el-boos.” I had the good fortune to bring down three of them, and, after having been limited for three days to a diet of soaked sweet potatoes, I very much appreciated a meal from their delicate and tender flesh.

Never shall I forget the hospitable reception which Yumma, Kurshook Ali’s Vokeel, showed me at this Seriba, nor the circumstances under which it transpired. My gratitude was all the more keen because the discourtesy and inhospitality which I had experienced from Mangoor were still fresh upon my memory. I was really worn-out by the fatigue of marching, and very much debilitated by my compulsory abstinence in consequence of my scorbutic attack, when in the early evening we reached the Dehm. We wandered about for a considerable time amongst the scattered homesteads, and had some difficulty in discovering the palings of the Seriba. After we succeeded in getting inside, we found all the huts perfectly quiet, and it appeared almost as if invisible hands had prepared the coffee which was handed me as soon as I had taken my seat upon the “angareb” in the reception-hall. The ruler of the Seriba happened that evening to be absent somewhere in the environs, and it was not known for certain whether he would return that night. Feeling that it was quite a matter of speculation what kind of entertainment I should have on the following day, I threw myself down without taking any supper, and composed myself for my night’s rest.

[Sidenote: A TRAVELLER’S DREAMS.]

Whoever has wandered as a lonely traveller in the untrodden solitudes of a desert likes to tell his dreams: in them the true situation of a man often mirrors itself; for, unrestrained by any control of reason, images arise from the obscurity of the past, so that, at times, it seems as if a painful vividness was being stamped upon recollections, which, as reproduced, are really very contradictory to the actual facts. It happened to me very much in this way at Dehm Bekeer, only I had the compensation that the visions that I saw were not disproved, but confirmed, by my experience.

Weary and worn-but as I was, and no longer master of my faculties, I seem very soon to have fallen asleep. Memory, unshackled from the guardianship of reality, began to revel in the ideal delights of a material world. I fancied that I was in a spacious tent that was glittering with the radiancy of countless lamps, that the tables were groaning under the most tempting viands, and that troops of servants in gorgeous livery were in attendance upon the guests, to whom they brought the mellowest and rarest of wines. And then it was race-time at Cairo, and the entertainment was sumptuous with all the splendour of the fairest imagery of ‘The Arabian Nights,’ the host no less than the Governor of Egypt himself. And then I seemed all at once to wake, and was quite bewildered in trying to decide whether I was in the smoke-clouds that envelop the interior of an African grass-hut or whether in truth I was reclining under the shelter of a royal marquee. My frame of mind enhanced the force of my fancy: but soon the delusion took a more distinct phase, and I seemed to divine that there was really about me a group of well-dressed servants, and that whilst some were bringing in various dishes and sparkling goblets which they placed beside my lowly couch, others were running about with tapers and lamps, and others with embroidered napkins under their arms were conveying the choicest dainties in lordly dishes or offering lemonade and sherbet from the brightest crystal. I rubbed my eyes. I took a draught of what was offered me. I surveyed the scene deliberately, and came to the surprised conviction that what I had been dreaming was a reality!

Yumma, the controller of the Seriba, had returned home late in the evening. No sooner was he informed of my arrival than he had had all his retinue of cooks aroused from their night’s rest to give me an entertainment worthy of his rank. He was more than half a Turk, and acquainted far beyond the other superintendents of the Seribas with the elegancies and comforts of a Khartoomer’s household. Everything he possessed in the way of valuable vases or tasteful table ornaments was brought out and exhibited in my honour. He set before me bread of pure white flour, maccaroni, rice, chickens served with tomatoes, and innumerable other delicacies which I could hardly have supposed had ever found their way to this distant land. It was quite midnight before the preparations for the impromptu banquet were complete, and then, whether I wanted or not, I was bound to partake. My tortures were the tortures of Tantalus; however eagerly I might covet the food, the inflammation in my gums put an emphatic veto upon my enjoyment, and it was only with the acutest suffering that I could get a morsel of meat or a drop of fluid between my lips. As soon, however, as I was somewhat better, the improved diet told favourably upon my constitution, and after a few days I was ready to start afresh upon my travels with renovated energy and recruited strength.

[Sidenote: A LINE OF HILLS.]

The environs of the Dehm are inhabited partly by the Golo and partly by the Sehre. Amongst the natives the town itself is known by the name of Dehm Dooroo, called so after a deceased chieftain of the Golo. The present native overseer of the Golo population is called Mashi Doko. To the south and south-west of the town, the ground gradually rises, and in the main might be called hilly in all directions, as right away to the horizon there are continued series of hill-crests and ridges. Above the general undulation of the land these rise high enough to form conspicuous landmarks, and afford the wayfarer considerable assistance in the direction of his journey; many of them present an appearance that is quite analogous to that of the hill-caps which have been mentioned as characteristic of southern Bongoland; generally they consist of bright masses of gneiss. The shape of these hills is defined in the Arabic of the Soudan as “Gala;” the Bongo call it “Kilebee.” They are quite isolated, and are always rounded elevations of grey gneiss projecting, sometimes like flat plateaux and sometimes like raised eminences, from the swamp-ore around, and they give the landscape the aspect so characteristic of Central Africa. They may readily be supposed to be associated in character with those gneiss flats which are scattered all over the land in every variety of shape and size, and any one must involuntarily become subject to the impression that they indicate a spot where in bygone ages there were the summits of mountains that have long since been worn down by the tooth of time, and that these elevations were the ridges that had separated the channels of the very rivers that I had discovered, which by various agencies, chemical and mechanical, were now conspiring to carry off the _débris_ of the mountain mass and convey it to the distant ocean. All along the way there were the most striking evidences of how, in the operations of nature, it had been brought about that every valley should be exalted and every mountain and hill made low. The problem over which antagonists may wrangle and refuse to be reconciled has been successfully solved by Nature, whose function has ever been to establish a balance between opposites ever since the days of her own early youth, before as yet a living creature existed to give animation to the scenes of earth. As instances to illustrate the certainty of these earlier chains of mountains, I may mention the following, which the reader will easily trace upon the map: The Taya, between the Beery and the Kooroo; the Bakeffa, the Kosanga, and the Ida, between the Kooroo and the Pongo; and the Kokkuloo, the Yaffa, and the Atyumen, between the Pongo and the Wow.

On leaving Dehm Bekeer, a mile south from the Seriba, we reached a small stream called the Ngudduroo, and on the farther side of it, after traversing a hilly tract for about two miles, we came to another stream which in winter could only boast of a very weak current, although even then the breadth of its bed was fifteen feet, thoroughly covered with water. The banks were about eight or ten feet in height, and stood out dry above the stream. Yumma, who accompanied me, declared that it was the upper course of the river of Damoory and Dembo, consequently that it was the Pongo, and he affirmed that, in his frequent marches along its banks, he had distinctly followed it right into that district. Both the Golo and the Sehre throughout the environs called it the Djee, and as I proceeded along my way I derived fresh confirmation for Yumma’s statement about the river from the circumstance that it is also called the Djee by those Sehre who reside on the farther side, at Dehm Adlan. All along my route back, moreover, towards the east, I did not come across any river large or small which could possibly be identified as the upper portion of what is the Pongo at Damoory.

[Sidenote: MOFIO AND SOLONGOH.]

Some four or five leagues to the north-west of Dehm Bekeer there is stationed one of Kurshook Ali’s subsidiary Seribas. The natives of the district are Golo, and the Seriba has been established upon the banks of the Hahoo, a little stream that subsequently joins the Kooroo. Two leagues to the south-west of the Dehm rises a hill, steep in every aspect, it is designated the Kokkuloo, and commands a wide view of the country around. I found a number of intelligent people in this locality whose information about the neighbouring Niam-niam was of considerable service to me in ascertaining various facts, and by comparing and combining their separate accounts I was able to gain a fairly accurate idea of the country. The particulars that I gathered were for the most part appertaining to the territories of the two Niam-niam chieftains Mofio and Solongoh. Mofio’s residence was described as being situated to the W.N.W. of our present position, and that, in consequence of the number of streams that had to be crossed and the deserts that had to be traversed, it could not be reached in less than twelve days, even if the march were urged on with all possible speed, whilst at an ordinary pace it would take fifteen days at least; there was, however, a way from Dehm Nduggo which was less circuitous, and did not offer the same difficulties in furnishing the bearers with supplies: this could be accomplished in about eight days. The home of Solongoh, who was a son of Bongohrongboh, was not distant more than a five days’ march to the S.S.E., and only separated from the domain of Kurshook Ali in the lands of the Golo and Sehre by one of the desolate frontier wildernesses. There was a third independent Niam-niam chief, whose territory, however, was of insignificant extent. He was called indifferently Yapaty or Yaffaty, and was the son of Mofio’s brother Zaboora: he had his mbanga three days’ journey to the south-west of Dehm Bekeer.

At the period of my visit Yumma was on terms of open enmity with Solongoh, his territory being constantly threatened by that powerful prince, whose sway extended as far as the Bellandah, who are bordering upon the land of Aboo Shatter. Just before this, in fact only a few days previously to my arrival, Solongoh had been repulsed in an attack which he had made, although he had summoned his full force and had advanced within a couple of days’ march of Dehm Bekeer. As Yumma foresaw that another engagement was imminent, he would not permit me to remain any longer in his Seriba, because he saw he could not be responsible for the issue, and it was in vain that I begged him not to have any apprehension on my account. But the audacity of the Niam-niam was so gross that it was intolerable, and must be suppressed at all hazards. To such a pitch had this shameless daring grown that even the arms of the soldiers had been stolen by people sent by Solongoh into Dehm Bekeer for the purpose. Under cover of night they had contrived to get into the Seriba, and had managed to purloin several guns whilst the unsuspecting owners were sound asleep.

My researches in Dehm Gudyoo enabled me to gather certain information which is of some consequence as affecting the proper hydrographical delineation of the countries through which I was travelling. Six days’ journey south-west by west from the spot at which we were sojourning stood a Seriba, which was Idrees Wod Defter’s principal repository of arms and ammunition; it was situated, as I was informed, upon the banks of a river that flowed to the north-east, and afterwards joined another river that was so much larger that the passage over it could at all seasons only be effected in boats. To this river the Khartoomers give the name of Bahr Aboo Dinga; it is said to be about two and a half days’ journey beyond Dar Benda, where Idrees maintains another Seriba. It is a river that is likewise well known to the company of Seebehr Rahama, which makes a yearly visit to the country that is inhabited by the Aboo Dinga, a distinct negro people, quite different alike to the Kredy and to the Niam-niam. The direction of the stream Aboo Dinga was reported to be E.N.E. or due east, and all the statements concurred in making it identical with the Bahr-el-Arab, which intersects the country of the Baggara-el-Homr.

[Sidenote: THE BAHR ABOO DINGA.]

No one seemed able to decide the question where the Bahr Aboo Dinga came from. I suspect its source is somewhere amongst the mountains of Runga, to the south of Wadai, a spot of which various travellers have given such reports as they have been able to gather. Barth,[76] in the itinerary which he gives of his eastward route from Massena in Baghirmy to Runga, makes an entry which may contribute something in the way of elucidating the question. He says that he came “on the forty-second day (_i.e._ one day’s journey to the south of the residence of the prince of Runga) to Dar Sheela,[77] a mountainous district with a river flowing to the east, beyond which lies Dar Dinga.” No one is more conscious than I am myself how little stress is to be laid upon a mere resemblance in the sound of names. Hundreds of times, and in every diversity of place, I have found that any conjecture based upon the apparent similarity is utterly worthless; but in this case the resemblance was not a chance coincidence, for the assigned bearings and distances (as reckoned from the two starting-points of Barth and myself) so thoroughly correspond as to suggest the sense of a mutual agreement between the scenes that we explored; it seems also very probable that Barth’s river Kubanda is identical with my river Welle.

Various reasons, into which it is unnecessary to enter with more minuteness here, might be alleged to show that it is in the highest degree probable that the river in question is likewise identical with a river which is affirmed by the two entirely independent witnesses, Teïma[78] and Fresnel,[79] to exist in this district, and to which the name of Bahr-el-Ezuhm, or Azzoum, is assigned.

Although these statements are only given in their main and essential features, and not in detail, they will suffice to cast some degree of clearness upon the source of the Bahr-el-Arab, that river which appears hitherto to have been very much underrated in all the maps of the country. The evidence which demonstrates that the river is entitled to the rank of primogeniture amongst all the tributaries of the Gazelle system, has already been collected in a previous page. We have only to take account of the extraordinary length, as may be gathered from the foregoing data, to which the Bahr-el-Arab extends, and we shall be at once bound to concede that in all discussions connected with that endless question of the sources of the Nile, the Bahr-el-Arab takes at least an equal rank with the Bahr-el-Gebel.

Leaving the Djee at some little distance to our right, we continued our return journey to the Wow and the Dyoor, starting in a N.N.E. direction, and persevering for twenty-five miles until we reached Dehm Adlan, just as it had been described to me by the same reliable authorities to whom I was indebted for such detailed particulars about the districts of Mofio and Solongoh. Nearly throughout the march the country was quite destitute of inhabitants, and we crossed eleven little streams all running from west to east and flowing into the Djee. We had first to cross a half-dry khor, surrounded on all sides by open steppes, and then proceeded to the farms of the Sehre sheik, Bereeah, which were situated just beyond a considerable brook, of which the water was nearly at a standstill, and which bore the name of Langeh.

[Sidenote: THROUGH WOODS AND OVER BROOKS.]

Our pathway now led us through bushwoods and over soil that was generally rocky, till after accomplishing about two leagues we came in sight of Bakeffa, a hill of which I had previously taken the bearings; it reared itself so much above the flat table-land that it could be seen from afar. All round the west, far as the horizon embraced the view, the whole country was apparently one elevated plateau. For a long time we had a river named the Gumende on our left, and at intervals passed through the galleries of forest-wood that enclosed its banks; after a while we had to cross the stream at a spot where it was thirty feet wide and ten feet in depth. As surveyed from this place, the horizon upon the north-east was shut out by the rising of some steepish ground. The next brook that we reached was named the Nyusseta; its water was nearly stationary, and beyond it were still standing the dejected ruins of a previous Seriba of Bizelly’s. Having traversed a rocky tract broken by repeated bushwoods, we next arrived at the large brook Gopwee, of which the channel was deep, but the waters nearly still, its banks being shrouded with very thick foliage. Then we reached the Dibanga, of which we found that the bed was of considerable depth; but at this season it was divided into a number of separate pools. Farther on we passed a gallery-brook, in which the water had no movement, and finally we came to a much larger stream, of which the surface of the water was ten feet in breadth, the height of the woody banks which shut in the channel varying from twenty-five feet in some places to forty in others. Its name was the Ndopah. The woods, which almost completely overshadowed it, were composed in a large measure of great sterculiæ, which the Niam-niam call kokkorukkoo, and to which I have already called attention as being so conspicuous in the gallery-forests of the south.

Upon the banks of a little stream, by the sides of which the trees were arranged as it were in avenues, and where a kind of glen was formed amongst them, we came to an establishment of slave-dealers, who, in company with some elephant-hunters from Darfoor, had taken up their quarters at the place which the Khartoomers simply designate by the name of Bet-el-Gellahba, or “the abode of the slave-dealers.” As we were unable to reach the Dehm to which our steps were bent, we were compelled to take up our quarters here for the night.

On the following morning, which was the 5th of February, I was very much surprised at the singularly clouded aspect of the sky. After a long interval the night had been warm, the atmosphere being oppressively close, an indication that, just as might be anticipated at the beginning of February, a change of weather was impending, and there was about to ensue a transition from the coolness of winter to the heat of summer without any interruption in the dryness of the air.

Before we arrived at the Dehm of Seebehr Adlan, who was a Seriba owner associated with Agahd’s company, we had to journey over lands that were under vigorous cultivation and to pass by numerous farmsteads of the Sehre. On our way it was necessary to cross two considerable brooks that flowed in the hollow of some deep depressions, and were closely shut in by lofty trees. Beyond the second of these, which was called Ngokkoo, on the steep side of a valley slope, lay the aforesaid Seriba, in the immediate environs of which were clustered many groups of Gellahbas’ farmsteads, numerous enough to constitute a Dehm, which, however, was far smaller than any that we had previously visited. The resident dealers in slaves were partly Foorians and partly Baggara, and had an interest in the ivory traffic as well as in their living merchandise. They conducted their business in the regular Bedouin fashion, with sword and lance, disposing of their spoil at the nearest Seribas, where their activity was much appreciated. The Baggara, who come into the country in the train of the slave-dealers (whether for the purpose of tending the oxen which are wanted as beasts of burden or of superintending the transport of the slaves), are all of the tribe of the Rizegat, the Homr being the most irreconcilable enemies of all the Gellahbas, no matter whether these come from Kordofan or Darfoor, or whether they be natives of Khartoom or other Nubians.

[Sidenote: THE RIVER DJEE.]

At the distance of a mile from the Seriba, towards the east, the Djee had already expanded into a river some forty feet broad; its bed was full of water, which, however, did not exceed two feet in depth; it flowed deliberately towards the north, between lofty walls of swamp-ore and over moss-grown clumps of gneiss that half obstructed its flow along its bed. The embankments on either side seemed to be equally inclined to the base of the valley, which they overtopped by an altitude of nearly 600 feet; so prolonged was the depression, spreading outwards for several miles, that the aspect of the locality was quite remarkable. The affluents of the river joined the main-stream by gorges in the soil, which sank perpendicularly to the bottom; and the land had the singular appearance of having been regularly parcelled out into distinct allotments.

The contented little community of the Sehre had established itself in well-packed quarters, which were ranged for some distance around the Seriba. The prospect all around was very diversified, the landscape presenting pleasing alternations of light and shade, the dense woods being relieved by the recurrence of the culture-lands and homesteads of the natives.

In general appearance the Sehre may be said to bear a striking resemblance to the Niam-niam, except that they are not tattooed. Originally they were a tribe of slaves subject to the Niam-niam chieftains, but recently they have migrated farther north, very probably encouraged to that movement by the depopulation of the land in consequence of the large and perpetual capture of the people for slaves. However, many of the Sehre still remain subject to the dominion of the Niam-niam prince, Solongoh. The prolonged intercourse that has existed between the two people has done a great deal towards obliterating the nationality and peculiar customs of the Sehre and to assimilate them to the Niam-niam; but to a large extent they retain their own dialect, which, as might be expected, has many points of resemblance with the Zandey. Many of the Sehre are quite accustomed to the Zandey tongue and speak it fluently. The long hair is precisely like what is found among the Niam-niam, and the mode of arranging it in tufts and twists is identical. Their complexion is a dark chocolate colour.

The Sehre are a robust and well-built race, and in this respect they more resemble the Golo and the Bongo. Their ethnographical independence, however, does not admit of a question. Their huts attest the interest which their owners take in them, and the amount of care that is bestowed upon the management of their households is larger than what is anywhere to be observed amongst the Golo, not to mention those of the poor degenerate Kredy. The peculiar huts appropriated to boys, which I have mentioned as being adopted by the Niam-niam and called “bamogee,” are found here, and are always built in a style that is most symmetrical. But their most remarkable structures are their corn-bins, which are of a shape that I never saw elsewhere. They are made in the form of a drinking goblet, and are nearly always artistically decorated with mouldings and with a series of rings almost as perfect as though they had been produced with the aid of a lathe. They are always built on a pedestal, which must be climbed in order to push aside the projecting lid.

Among the Sehre I never saw either goats or dogs, and, as far as I could judge, their residences had no other live-stock about them but a few cocks and hens.

[Sidenote: THE SEHRE.]

There is nothing very remarkable about the arms of the Sehre; their lances resemble those of the Bongo, and are very rare and quaint-looking weapons. The bows and arrows are considerably smaller than those of the Bongo, the arrows in particular being of that short and stumpy make that I had noticed amongst the Bellanda.

The women’s attire consists of bunches of grass or leaves, fastened to their girdle before and behind, and very like what is worn by the Bongo; it is also generally adopted by the women of the Golo and Kredy. There is the same partiality for inserting bits of straw in the sides of the nostrils that is so common amongst the Bongo women, but the example here is to a certain extent followed even by the men. Many of the women have the circular plate let into their upper lip like the Mittoo women. At the Dehm Adlan I observed several women who had an appendage hanging from the lower lip in the shape of a piece of lead several inches long. The teeth, both of men and women, are left unmutilated, the only disfigurement being that an artificial separation is made between the two central incisors. According to the ordinary fashion of Central Africa, infants at the breast are carried in a girth, similar to a saddle-girth, worn over the shoulders just in the same way as amongst the Monbuttoo women.

Hunting in the neighbouring wildernesses, which cannot extend much less than twenty miles in every direction, and which appear to be entirely void of inhabitants, must be a very productive pursuit. In all my travels I never came across such numerous and abundant hunting trophies as here amongst the homesteads of the Sehre; they were contrived out of branches of trees resting one against another and self-supported like the guns of soldiers in camp, and were crowded with the skulls and horns of animals that the natives had secured. Hundreds of buffalo-horns, including a surprising number of those of the females, were attached to the structures which stood in front of well-nigh every hut, and were as numerous as though hunter vied with hunter in his separate display. Every variety of horn was represented: intermingled with the buffalo-horns were those of the eland-antelope, the water-bock, the hartebeest, and the bastard-gemsbock, whilst skulls of wart-hogs, and occasionally even skulls of lions, were not wanting to help adorn the trophy.

The proprietor of the Seriba happened to be absent on an excursion to the western districts of the Niam-niam, but his Vokeel did his utmost to provide me with a hospitable reception; and taking into account the impoverishment of the land and the general deficiency of provisions that prevailed, I am bound to award him my best thanks for his courtesy and attention.

Beyond the Kooroo, and just half-way between Dehm Adlan and Dehm Gudyoo, there stands a hill of considerable altitude, named Taya. The whole distance required two days’ hard marching to get over, the road being straight through uninterrupted wilderness until it reached the farmsteads of the Kredy sheikh, Gudyoo, on the banks of the Beery.

Shortly after midnight on the 8th of February there came on such a violent storm that I was aroused from my sleep, although I was sheltered by one of the best protected of the huts. A complete change of wind ensued, and for the first time this season the south-west wind set in afresh and for some time maintained its position for the greater part of the day. The nights in consequence became so much warmer that any covering for the bed could easily be dispensed with. We tarried here three days, and then started for another three days’ march on our return to Bongoland, over a country all but destitute of water, for the Pongo may be described as a river that separates a district full of springs from one that is just as barren of them, although the change in the level of the country comes on so gradually that it can hardly be said to be observable. In the course of our journey we had to cross the three running brooks known as the Ngokurah, the Simmere, and Ngonguli, and to pass by several villages of the Sehre, of which the sheikhs were respectively called Kombo, Villeke, Badja, and Barraga. The last huts and the last water were left behind about four miles after quitting the Pongo, and henceforth water for drinking had to be sought for with considerable trouble, as all the pools and marshes that supplied any were only to be found scattered at wide intervals one from another.

[Sidenote: KARRA, THE MAGIC TUBER.]