Chapter XXIV (1)

Tidings of war. Two months’ hunting. Yolo antelopes. Reed-rats.
Habits of the Aulacodus. River oysters. Soliman’s arrival.
Advancing season. Execution of a rebel. Return to Ghattas’s
Seriba. Disgusting population. Allagabo. Alarm of fire. Strange
evolutions of hartebeests. Nubian cattle raids. Traitors
among the natives. Remains of Shol’s huts. Lepers and slaves.
Ambiguous slave-trading. Down the Gazelle. The Balæniceps again.
Dying hippopotamus. Invocation of saints. Disturbance at night.
False alarm. Taken in tow. The Mudir’s camp. Crowded boats.
Confiscation of slaves. Surprise in Fashoda. Slave caravans on
the bank. Arrival in Khartoom. Telegram to Berlin. Seizure of my
servants. Remonstrance with the Pasha. Mortality in the fever
season. Tikkitikki’s death. Θάλαττα. θάλαττα.

The first boats had reached the Meshera early in the year, and the number of soldiers in the Seriba kept continually increasing by the arrival of fresh contingents from Khartoom. The firms of Ghattas and Kurshook Ali seemed both to have a sharp look-out for business, for one of them had collected forty and the other seventy-eight fresh idlers as recruits. Their arrival gave new life to the Seribas; friends and relatives who had not met for years exchanged greetings and recounted mutual experiences, whilst news from Khartoom was eagerly circulated and as eagerly received.

For myself there was a collection of little notes sent by a friend at Khartoom that could not do otherwise than excite my keenest interest. They were six months old, but not the less on that account did they stimulate my curiosity: in them I read, in sentences that were almost as crisp and brief as telegrams, of the startling events of the previous autumn. Naturally I turned to my letters from home, hoping to gather further particulars of the strange occurrences that had thus been partially unfolded, but I found that these letters had all been written a year ago, whilst peace still prevailed throughout Europe, and that they only referred to ordinary and commonplace topics. So incomplete, therefore, were the intimations that I received of all that had transpired since November 1869, that the events all remained an enigma to me which I could very imperfectly comprehend. It is true that I had come across slave-traders in the west who had recently arrived overland from Khartoom, and who had plenty to tell of what was going on in the Soudan, but not a syllable fell from their lips about the great war of the Franks, for who besides myself was interested in the least in the fall of the Emperor of the French, or who cared either to hear or to relate the victories of the Germans? Although when I visited Khartoom many months had elapsed since the fall of Magdala, yet near as it was to the seat of war, the intelligence of the Abyssinian campaign even then had scarcely reached the town.

Meagre as were the details of my latest intelligence, it may be imagined that they roused me to the greatest excitement, so that it was with the most feverish expectation that I awaited the arrival of a son of Kurshook Ali, who would bring definite tidings as to whether there was peace or war in Europe.

As it had been my intention to return home immediately after my Niam-niam tour, I had given no orders in the previous year for any quantity of fresh stores to be sent me from Khartoom; consequently the boats that now arrived had brought me nothing beyond the few articles that I knew would be necessary on my passage down the river; these inconsiderable things, meanwhile, had been left at the Meshera; but after the hardships of the last few months, I felt that the possession of the merest trifles would be an incalculable boon to me. Pending the arrival of this little addition to my present means, I had still to endure some weeks of poverty; then for a short period after receiving it I enjoyed a brief season of comparative comfort until once more, when the scanty stock was exhausted, I relapsed for the rest of my sojourn in the country into a state of destitution more distressing than ever.

The two months that I spent in Khalil’s huts were passed almost entirely in hunting. Not only was the abundance of game about the valley of the Dyoor a great inducement to sport, but such was my nervous condition that continual exertion was the only thing that made my life endurable. I found walking to be the best antidote to depression and the most effectual remedy for headache and languor; and it was only during the hours that I passed in the wilderness that any of my former energy returned. Whenever I found myself within the walls of my hut I was conscious of nothing but weariness and dejection and was only fit for lounging on my bed; it was but rarely that my love of sketching from nature in any degree diverted me or gave me its wonted amusement.

[Sidenote: ANTELOPE-HUNTING.]

Khalil had lent me a capital gun, a weapon specially suited for antelope-shooting, that did me good service. During the months of March and April I brought down as many as five-and-twenty head of the larger kinds of game, including amongst them specimens of nearly all the different species of antelopes that the fauna of the country could boast. The number of caama and leucotis antelopes appeared little short of inexhaustible. The flesh of the leucotis served as a substitute for beef and mutton, both of which at that time were exceedingly scarce in all the Seribas. I had no butter or lard of any description, but the meat was very palatable when simply boiled in water. The lean goats’ meat, with its soapy flavour, was the only alternative, and that after awhile became utterly loathsome to me. For a long time I had had no vegetables at my meals, and indeed for months I had lived without any vegetable diet at all with the exception of some sorghum cakes.

During this period I met with an antelope (_A. arundinacea_) of a species that I had never seen before. The Bongo called it “yolo,” and although it appeared to me to differ from the leucotis merely by having horns of about one-third the length, the natives insisted that it was quite distinct; upon closer investigation I could not help acknowledging that the people were right, and that several marks of distinction did really exist: in the first place, the head of the “yolo” is all of one colour; in the next, it is deficient in the black stripe along the hind leg which is always seen in the leucotis; and the lower joints in the hind legs are never black, but of the same brown colour as the rest of the body. Again, the two animals are distinguished by their habit, for while the “yolos” are found only in pairs frequenting the bush forests in the vicinity of the rivers, the leucotis are observed in groups (sometimes even in large herds of several dozen), and haunt, not the forests, but the open valleys through which the rivers flow. It was highly interesting to notice the keen accuracy with which the instinct of the natives had taught them to discriminate between species of which the general resemblances were so predominating; the droppings of the animals as they move from place to place are quite sufficient to enable these observers of nature to distinguish one kind of antelope from another.

[Sidenote: HUNTING REED-RATS.]

I was informed that the end of February was the best time of the year for hunting reed-rats (_Aulacodus Swinderianus_). Accordingly one day I arranged an excursion to the Dyoor, and engaging a number of natives who were used to the sport to bring their lances and to beat up the game, I set off under their guidance to the spot that they considered the most promising. At that season of the year, when all the grass was so thoroughly dry, it did not seem as though it could be a matter of much difficulty to kill almost unlimited numbers of these reed-rats, if only they could be got at; and so in fact it proved: in the course of the day we killed no less than ten, but nearly all of them were so damaged by the merciless use of the lances or by the teeth of the dogs that they were of no use at all for any scientific purpose. The method of hunting, it must be confessed, is somewhat rough. As soon as a spot is discovered frequented by the animals, a ring of the tall grass is set alight, so that escape is rendered impossible, and every one of the poor brutes within the circle of flame is compelled to show itself. The reed-rats invariably keep in concealment until the very last moment, and when finally they make an attempt to escape they get their feet so scorched and their coats so singed that it is very difficult to secure a perfect specimen; they are in this respect like the wild hares of the deserts, which are subject to the delusion that however close at hand then pursuers may be, they may still be safe by remaining quiet in their hiding-places; as soon as they are obliged to quit them they get killed by stones and clubs. In many parts where the grass that had survived the steppe-burning was unusually thick, the Dyoor had only to thrust in their spears at random and they had every chance of spearing one of the reed-rats. The case is pretty much the same in the various pools full of fish left by the subsidence of the river.

The Aulacodus finds a habitat in all the tropical regions of the continent; it is ordinarily found in the neighbourhood of brooks and rivers, burying itself in deep holes amidst the reeds; when, however, it is in search of its food it will wander away to a considerable distance from its place of concealment, and thus allow the hunters a chance of killing it. The larger rivers are the natural channels for the wanderings of the creature, its movements in the water being assisted by its hind feet being furnished with webs; but these webs, it is to be observed, are not perfectly developed; they do not stretch across from toe to toe in straight lines, but go in curves that vary considerably in their stretch. On account of this peculiarity Th. von Heuglin has suggested that the reed-rat found on the Gazelle River should be classified as _A. semipalmatus_, to distinguish it from the species of the Zambesi and Gambia, which is entirely wanting in the webbed foot.

A full-grown reed-rat is never less than twenty inches in length, but a third of this must be assigned to the rat-like tail, which is coated over with thin hair, nearly black on the top and light grey underneath. The snout, throat, breast, and belly are covered with hair almost as prickly as the bristles of a young hedgehog, light grey in colour; on the back and sides the colour is shaded down to a brownish hue, that is to say, the grey hairs are tipped with a lightish tan-brown. In February the half-grown animals shed their bristles and acquire an entirely new coat. The skin is about an eighth of an inch thick, but is quite soft, and may easily be torn; it is lined with a uniform layer of fat. The meat is excellent when roasted; it is rich, and without being sweet and insipid like that of the rock rabbit, it is free from any unpleasant flavour; in quality it is about equal to poultry, whilst in taste it may be described as being intermediate between veal and pork. As a cloven-footed animal, without horns and non-ruminant, the Nubians of course consider it to be unclean; but the Mohammedans of the steppes and deserts are not so scrupulous; to the Baggara and the Foorians a roast reed-rat is as great a delicacy as a hare is to the Bishareen and Hadendoa. Amongst the natives of the Nubian towns and Nile-valley the Far-el-boos (as the reed-rat is called in Arabic) gives rise to a good deal of mutual banter, and in times of dearth they jocosely charge one another with eating reed-rats on the sly.

[Sidenote: THE FAR-EL-BOOS.]

The food of the Aulacodus consists, I believe, of the aromatic rhizomes of certain kinds of grass that grow in the depressions of the rivers; but as I only judge from the green finely-minced particles that were contained in the stomach, I am unable to speak positively on this point. The natives esteem the contents of the stomach as a special delicacy; and my dogs, that were generally dainty enough to reject rats and mice, greedily devoured all the entrails.

Tikkitikki, armed with his bow and arrows, was an eager participator in our sport. He declared that reed-rats are never found in the land of the Monbuttoo, but are perfectly well known to all the Niam-niam, who call them “remooh,” or “alimooh.” In common with many other Africans, the Niam-niam often adopt the practice of burying their stores of ivory (either as a protection from the disasters of war or from the chance of fire) in the damp soil of the swamps, which are the haunts of the Aulacodus; the ivory forms just the substance that meets the requirements of the animal for sharpening and grinding down its front teeth, and consequently gets gnawed in every direction.

Khalil required 300 bearers to convey his stores from the Meshera, but as these could not be collected in a day, and as the prevailing scarcity made it impossible to maintain any others beyond the soldiers that were already in the Seribas, the new-comers were turned out to pick up what they could for themselves from amongst the neighbouring Dinka until the entire troop could be got together. A good many days elapsed before the great caravan was complete; and, in the meantime, the soldiers who had already started were having continual conflicts with the Dinka, who were resolved not to part with their corn without a struggle.

[Sidenote: DIFFICULTIES OF TRANSPORT.]

On the 4th of March 200 of Ghattas’s Bongo bearers arrived at the Seriba on their way to carry corn to the Turkish camp. All their loads put together would hardly have amounted to twenty ardebs. Hopelessly stupid are the people; it roused my indignation to think how, in spite of the hard and level roads that were established during the dry season, they had never introduced a single vehicle of any description into the country. Thirty hand-barrows or three bullock-waggons would have amply sufficed to convey the whole of the corn, and yet they employed these 200 bearers, who, during the twenty-four days that they would be on their journey to their destination and back, would, at the very lowest computation, consume as much as forty ardebs of durra, just double the quantity they had to deliver. The extortions of the Government are thus, in the course of the year, three or four times as great as they need be; the troops may require some 600 ardebs of corn, but in procuring this, at least another 600 ardebs would be wasted, to say nothing about the reckless and lavish expenditure of time and strength which is thrown away upon the proceedings. I cannot help repeating these details, in order to show to what a senseless system of robbery these negro-countries are exposed as soon as ever they come within the grasp of Mohammedan rule.

In March the natives employ themselves in fishing. Towards the middle of the month the numerous backwaters and swamp-channels that have been left by the Dyoor are separated into independent basins by means of dams, that may be seen thrown up in all directions across the intricate ramifications of the water; when these basins have been thoroughly drained, the fish are left lying above, or just embedded in the mud and slime, and may easily be taken with the hand. All the inhabitants of the district were in some measure concerned in the fishing of the Dyoor, and it afforded me a pleasant diversion, when I was out on my hunting-excursions, to stop awhile and watch the artifices by which they contrive to entrap the fish.

At the part of the river which, being deep, was frequented by hippopotamuses, the right-hand bank was more than fifteen feet high, and rose perpendicularly from the water; the upper section of the soil of the bank was a ferruginous clay which went down to a depth of eight feet, below which was a broad white stripe some four feet thick, resting upon the gneiss that apparently was the substratum of the entire alluvium of the river-valley. The white stripe of the soil had a chalky look, and contained fragments of quartz; it consisted of a crumbling product of felspar, such as may frequently be seen, under similar circumstances, in the hollows of other river-courses and brooks throughout the country.

In all parts of the dry sandy bed may be found the shells of the river-oyster (_Etheria Cailliaudii_), which is wanting in none of the affluents of the Upper Nile, and is known to the Niam-niam as the “mohperre.” In the deeper parts of the bed of the Dyoor these oysters exist in groups, adhering firmly to blocks of swamp-ore that, having become detached from the top of the banks, have fallen into the river, and so are permanently under water. While the Etheria is young, the shell is almost circular, but as it increases in age, it becomes elongated and irregular, and occasionally attains the extraordinary length of eighteen inches. The flavour of this mollusk is rather sweet and mawkish, and to me particularly unpleasant.

On the 20th, my temporary abode was very considerably enlivened by the arrival of Soliman, the owner of the Seriba, the eldest son of the late Kurshook Ali. He was quite a young man, and entirely inexperienced in the management of the extensive property that he had recently inherited from his father. It is matter of notoriety that whenever an Oriental proceeds on his travels he takes a large supply of his luxuries with him; thus it happens that his valuable baggage, consisting of clothes, weapons, and harness, as well as his horses, makes it especially worth while to waylay him and plunder him of his wealth. From this disaster Kurshook Ali had been spared during his life, but no sooner was he dead than, as I have already had occasion to mention, his successor in office appropriated all his effects and proceeded to dispose of them in the open market to the best bidders. It was on this account that the son of the deceased Sandjak had been induced to undertake this laborious journey in person, and he arrived at the Seriba with the double purpose of saving whatever residue there might be of his father’s property and of exacting an account from Ahmed Aga of what already had been sold.

[Sidenote: SOLIMAN.]

With much pleasure I still remember my first meeting with Soliman, and can yet recall the eager curiosity with which I turned the conversation to the position of the European Powers. As he was the chief of a great mercantile firm, and consequently associated with the more educated class of Khartoomers, I quite hoped that he would be able to give me some decisive political intelligence; but all the information that I could obtain from him was that when he left Khartoom in January, no announcement of peace had reached that town.

Old Khalil, who had never been out of the negro-countries for fifteen years, was just as ignorant of political matters as the lowest of his countrymen; not only had he to ask what was the name of the Governor-General of Khartoom, but he seemed to be quite unconscious that Egypt was in any degree an independent country. Most of the people were quite unacquainted with the name of the Khedive in power, and I heard some of them ask what the Pasha was called in Cairo; of one thing, however, they said they were perfectly sure, namely, that Abdul Aziz was the sovereign who ruled over all the believers, and that all the kings of the Franks were his vassals; it was true, they confessed, that the Emperor of Moscow, some years ago, had the audacity to pretend that he was independent; but now, thanks to the fidelity of the great Sultan’s vassals, he was very glad to eat humble-pie, just as it had happened before with Buonaparte, the “Sultan-el-Kebir.”

Such was the ignorance of the Soudanese; and the few sentences that I have recorded will serve for an epitome of their political knowledge. When they heard me talking to Soliman about peace and war in the land of the Franks, they wanted to learn what sort of people the Prussians (the “Borusli”) were. Soliman answered them with the greatest _naiveté_. He described Prussia as a “country with very few people,” meaning to imply that it was about the smallest of the great Powers. “And have these few people,” they went on to inquire, “made the great Emperor of the Franks a prisoner? Do you mean that they have taken the Emperor, whose likeness is stamped on all the gold money?” “O yes,” answered Soliman, “he was a big rascal; and heaven has rewarded him according to his deserts.”

It was on the 30th of March that the people arrived from the Meshera, and no one can tell how delighted I was to get the few stores that had been sent me from Khartoom. Provided as I was with a new stock of paper, I again set about my botanical work which had so long been suspended, and renewed my investigations with redoubled ardour; it was the opening of the third spring-tide in which it had been my singular happiness to gather the tribute of Central Africa to lay upon the altar of science. The period of my return to Europe was getting near, and I was eager to make a collection of all the bulbs and tubers that I could; I was very careful to dig them up before they had thrown out any of their fresh shoots, and was very successful in procuring a large number, which I deposited in Berlin in a state of perfect vitality; amongst them were many rare plants, and particularly some specimens of the _Cycadeæ_ from the country of the Niam-niam. In consequence, however, either of the defective construction of the plant-houses, or of the inexperience of the gardeners, many of these subsequently died.

[Sidenote: METEOROLOGICAL EVENTS.]

The meteorological events of 1871 deviated in some degree from their normal rule. The seasons were not at all sharply defined, as they had been in the two preceding years. Throughout March there was a perpetual struggle between directly contrary winds; first the north-east wind contended violently with the south-east wind, and only desisted to commence a conflict just as furious with the south-west. About the middle of the month the days were extremely hot, and the dominant north-east wind raged with almost the intensity of a simoom, that threatened to convert the land into a desert. On two separate days there were some slight showers, but the first heavy rain was that which fell on the 31st. In April there were six slight falls, and four very heavy falls, of rain, the south-west wind being generally prevalent, although there were several days when the rude, rough Boreas still struggled vehemently for the mastery. In May there were five showery days and three that were thoroughly wet.

The reappearance, for the first time, of various plants and animals marked, as it were, the separate stages of the advancing season, and prompted me to make a sort of farmer’s calendar of the different events. It was on the 16th that the wind suddenly veered to the south-east and some drops of rain fell, the first that had occurred since the passing shower on the 11th of February. The direction of the wind seemed now to be settled, and in the course of the night I heard a cricket chirping on the grass. Before many days had past the cicadas put in an appearance, and in the middle of the day the air resounded with their shrill tones, clear almost as the ring of metal, At the beginning of April the humidity of the atmosphere rapidly increased, whilst the heat remained intense, the average temperature being not less than 81° Fahr. This unhealthy concurrence of hot atmosphere with damp had the effect of bringing out an angry eruption all over my body, causing an irritation so violent that my rest at night was completely destroyed. Heat and moisture together are never beneficial to the health, except there is a complete protection from the chance of taking cold.

The 3rd of April, three days after the first decidedly heavy rain, is noted in my register as being the first day upon which the floor of my hut was covered with those uncomfortable visitors which never wait for a welcome; I mean particularly those strange _Arachnidæ_, the Galeodes (or scorpion-spiders), with their great venomous mandibles, and the whole family of scorpions proper. My poor negroes were terribly punished by them, and from head to foot there was not a portion of their body that enjoyed immunity from their attacks. It was after a very heavy rainfall that, on the evening of the 18th, I saw the first winged white ants (sexual males) issue from the clay pyramid of their “gontoor.”

Towards the middle of the month the stores of corn were so nearly exhausted that Khalil was obliged to decline showing any hospitality to the Gellahbas that passed through the Seriba. Soliman himself was compelled to quit the place, and his old Vokeel took a trip to his Bongo Seribas to gather together what additional supplies he could. For myself, I was suffering privation almost as severe as I had endured in the previous May upon the shores of the Nabambisso, on some days being unable to obtain a single handful of durra-corn; still, distressing as my condition was, I could not at once make up my mind to retrace my steps to Ghattas’s head Seriba. I was quite aware that I should be better off there for provisions than anywhere else, but the disaster of the 2nd of December had left such an impression upon my mind that the very name of the place was hateful to me; and I felt that I should for my own part much prefer to drag out four months in a starving Seriba and a barren wilderness, rather than to enjoy meat and milk at the cost of residing amidst the scenes of my disappointment and misfortune.

[Sidenote: AN EXECUTION.]

One day, just about this time, a former Bongo chief, who had escaped to the mountains on the southern frontier, having been captured after a long pursuit, was brought back by Kurshook Ali’s people to the Seriba. He had clandestinely murdered many of the Nubians, and had instigated the natives to revolt against their conquerors. His condemnation and execution now followed forthwith. I heard nothing of the matter until it was all over, but my negroes, who had been witnesses of the whole proceeding, gave it as their opinion that the punishment was well-deserved. They described to me the mode of carrying out the sentence. The delinquent, they said, had been taken out a considerable distance into the forest, dragging after him a long sheyba that was fastened to his neck; all at once he had been felled to the ground by a tremendous blow, directed just below the knees, from one of those huge swords four feet long that have been made for centuries at Solingen near Düsseldorf, and are still manufactured for the especial use of the African Bedouins and Arabs; two more heavy blows had then cut off his arms; and last of all, the attack had been levelled at his head, which was hacked, rather than cleanly severed, from his body.

There are always to be found in this country those who are singularly dexterous in the use of the swords that I have mentioned. They use them for performing amputations in their own barbarous way. If mortification from an ulcer or any other cause seems to be setting in, so that a hand or a foot is deemed incurable, the limb is fastened to a block of wood, and with one blow of the sword the part affected is severed almost within a hair’s breadth of the part that is sound. Instances far from unfrequent have been known where the sufferers have had the fortitude to perform the operation, hazardous as it is, upon themselves. The custom is of great antiquity amongst the Arabs, and probably is not to be disassociated from the ancient Gospel precept, “If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee.”

Reluctant as I was, I found myself compelled at last to yield to the urgent solicitations of my hungry Bongo and to set off for Ghattas’s Seriba. We started on the 21st. We found the Dyoor, which had risen during the last few days, somewhat subsiding again, but the whole breadth of the bed was still covered with water, although only two and a half feet deep; in the two previous years it had not begun to rise until a fortnight later. Aboo Guroon’s Seriba was just in the same miserable condition of want as the district we had left, and we found the natives eagerly engaged in collecting the bitter berries of certain kinds of the Capparideæ, of which, after soaking them repeatedly in boiling water, they manage to make a sort of pap. The berry of the _Boxia octandra_ is likewise used for a similar purpose, having been first dried in the sun to remove the astringent cotyledons and then pounded in a mortar.

As we continued our journey, we could not be otherwise than surprised at the large flocks of maraboo-storks that we saw congregated amidst the burnt grass in the low steppes adjacent to the bed of the Molmul: most probably they were searching for the bodies of the snakes, lizards, and mice that had been killed in the recent conflagration.

With the 4th of May came the commencement of the general sowing of the crops; men’s hearts revived, and they began to anticipate happier times.

[Sidenote: MISERY AND DIRT.]

Ghattas’s granaries still contained some corn; and a small number of cattle, the residue of his once enormous herds, was yet to be seen in his farmyard. But in spite of my sense of these material comforts, the crowded Seriba was most repulsive to me: changed indeed it was in a way; but in its essential character it had remained true to its old composition. Certain it was that the swarms of rats that had infested the huts and undermined the soil had been all but exterminated by the fire; the crowds of red-headed lizards (_Agamas_) that used to frisk up and down the old rotten palisade were no longer to be seen; the horned beetles (_Scarabæus nasicornus_) and their grubs that had once covered every dung-heap were totally annihilated; it was man alone who was unchanged, and the same revolting forms, infected with syphilis, scabs, and boils were spreading their putrid miasma around. Tottering along betwixt the crooked, tumble-down straw hedges and amidst the heaps of garbage and of refuse might still be seen the wretched fever-stricken beings, with shorn heads covered with scabs and every limb a mass of festering matter; everywhere prevailed the moaning and groaning of a lingering death; the people were not so much what they were accustomed to call themselves and each other in their curses, “dogs and the sons of dogs,” they were rather sons of _dirt_, born and bred in an atmosphere of abscess and corruption.

I found my former garden ragged and barren as a wilderness; the only surviving memorials of what it had been were the tomatoes flourishing persistently upon the fertile soil, and the sunflowers that gloried in the tropical sun. Some of the sunflowers rose in great pyramids of foliage to a height of over ten feet, and with their huge disks of blossoms ever turned towards the full glare of light, presented an appearance that was very striking. In this strange world their splendour could not but irresistibly attract me, and I often sat down on the ground before them, and while gazing on their brightness recalled the fading memories of the past and conjured up anew the recollections of my distant travels, looking back upon the scenes I had passed, as a traveller looking through the back window of his carriage might take a retrospect of the country he had left behind.

In order to obtain a short reprieve from my melancholy and unpleasant surroundings and to finish up with a few days’ quiet enjoyment of nature, I resolved, towards the end of May, to take a farewell trip to Geer, and so to pay a parting visit to the Bongo. I had become quite attached to this people, and had determined to take a young Bongo boy back with me to Europe. My new _protégé_ was named Allagabo.[95] He seemed to me to be sharper and quicker in ability than many of his race, even of those who were considerably older than himself; and I intended him accordingly to be properly educated; his family lived in Geer, and whilst I was there I received various visits from his father, uncle, and aunt, to all of whom I made what presents I could, and immortalised them in my portfolio. They no longer exercised any right over Allagabo, as he had been stolen from his home a long time before by the Dinka, and disposed of by them to the controller of the Seriba in exchange for some cattle; the boy’s good fortune was quite a matter of congratulation to his relatives, as they were fully convinced he would lead a much happier life with me than he could possibly expect in his savage home. His mother, some years previously, after one of the regular cattle-exchanges, had been carried off as a slave to Khartoom; she was the only one of his relations for whom Allagabo had any yearning, and later, when he had grown accustomed to his European life and begun to confide in me, he used to tell me that the image of his mother haunted him in his dreams and hovered over him with tears in her eyes. I made many inquiries for her in Khartoom, but never succeeded in learning anything about her. For his father, Allagabo had little affection or respect. When I was making presents I had noticed that he was always urging me to hand my gifts by preference to his uncle, saying that his father did not deserve them, and upon my asking him the reason, he told me that once during the time when he was suffering from one of the diseases of childhood, his father had been utterly indifferent to his condition, but that his uncle had helped to nurse him with the greatest tenderness.

[Sidenote: A BONGO VILLAGE.]

In Geer I made numerous additions to my album. Here, too, I sketched the accompanying illustration of the village life of the Bongo. The huts and granaries are built round an immense butter-tree. On the left is one of the memorial graves which I have already described,[96] and on the right, a woman pounding corn in one of the native portable mortars; in the foreground are three Bongo women in attitudes in which they may frequently be observed, the sitting figure having a child suspended from her back in a leather bag; all round the village are sireh-fields, with their crops standing some twelve feet high, whilst the harp-shaped frames for drying the sesame rise up conspicuously above them.

The appearance of the first new moon after my return from my pleasant little trip was saluted with the usual nonsensical firing of guns, which threatened to cause a disaster similar to that over which I have already poured out my Jeremiad. It was the same old story; bullets were whizzing and whirring in all directions, when one of the straw roofs took fire; the flames were extinguished with much difficulty, and before any very serious damage had been done, but my powers of endurance were exhausted; I would not abide the chance of further repetition of the peril, and insisted upon preparations being at once taken in hand for sending off the boats to Khartoom.

An accidental circumstance favoured my design. Intelligence had casually reached me that Abdel Mesih, a son of Ghattas, was making a tour amongst the eastern Seribas of the Rohl, and intended very shortly to come on to us. To me the information was very opportune, as it gave me a handle, which I did not fail to use, to induce Idrees, our controller, to hurry on his movements in my behalf. I made him understand how much worse it would be for him if Abdel Mesih should arrive before I had taken my departure; for most certainly if I had the chance I should report upon the negligence that had caused the burning-down of the Seriba, and should demand compensation for all my losses. The consequences, I warned him, would be that his master would at once remove him from his post, and that he would have to go back to his place in Khartoom a poor beggarly slave. My threats answered their purpose admirably; they put Idrees into a frightful state of alarm; he lost no time in pushing matters forward, and on the 4th of June everything was ready for the march to the Meshera.

[Sidenote: THE DINKA COUNTRY.]

Our party consisted of fifty soldiers and rather more than 300 bearers. We started along our former road to the north-east, through the low-lying country of the Dinka, which I had previously traversed during the month of March; but so advanced was the season now that the whole region presented quite a new aspect. Bulbous plants of every variety shed their enlivening hues over the splendid plains, which were adorned by noble trees, park-like in their groupings. There was a descent in the land, but it was scarcely perceptible. We were only aware that we were approaching the limits of the rocky soil, when, on emerging from the bush, we saw stretching far before us the first great steppe that marked the commencement of the Dinka country. Scattered at intervals over the plain were some very remarkable groves. These were not only singularly compact, but their outline was as sharply defined as if it had been drawn by compasses, each cluster seeming to form itself around some unusually tall tree that was a common centre for the rest. The fantastic forms of the wild Phœnix and the candelabra-Euphorbia were the most conspicuous amidst these striking groups.

Our first night-camp was pitched at a deserted murah belonging to the Ayarr tribe. The deep holes that remained where wells had formerly been sunk, allowed us to make a very interesting inspection of the character of the soil; we had advanced exactly 7000 paces from the extremity of the rock, and on looking into the holes I could see that the ferruginous swamp-ore was here covered by a homogeneous layer of grey sandy soil, ten feet in thickness. These steppes are scarcely at all above the level of the Gazelle,[97] and, consequently, from July to the end of the rainy season they are constantly under water; traces of the inundation were apparent in the empty shells of the water-snail (_Ampullaria_) that were scattered about, and in the pools I found some of the little tortoises (_Pelomedusa gehafie_, Rüpp.) that have their home in the Gazelle itself.

On the following day we crossed the territory of the Dwuihr; the country retained the same character of level steppe broken by clumps of trees, but in consequence of the recent showers the roads in parts had become quite marshy. There were many detached huts scattered about.

As we advanced, our attention was attracted by a herd of hartebeests sporting together scarcely 500 paces from our path, and apparently quite unconscious of the proximity of a caravan nearly half a league in length. So regular were their evolutions as almost to suggest the idea that they were being guided by some invisible hand; they ran in couples like the horses in a circus, and kept going round and round a clump of trees, whilst the others stood in groups of three or four intently watching them; after a time these in turn took their place, and, two at a time, ran their own circuit in the same fashion. How long these movements might have continued, I cannot say; but my dogs soon afterwards made a dash in amongst the antelopes and sent them flying in all directions. The circumstance that I have now related may appear somewhat incredible; but I can only say that I had ample time to witness it, and that I was as much surprised at it as my readers can possibly be. I can only imagine, in explanation, that it was pairing-time, and that the animals were blind to all external danger.

I remembered that I had witnessed something similar, three months previously, upon the Dyoor. A party of three of us were rambling over a plain covered with short grass, when we saw two little Hegoleh-bocks (_A. Madoqua_) chasing each other upon one side of us; they kept up that peculiar grunting that belongs to their kind; a moment after, and they were on the other side of us; in another moment they were back again; and by watching them we found that they kept making a circle round the spot on which we were standing, and, although we shouted and tried to scare them, they persisted in twice more performing their circuit about us.

Our next task was to cross a swampy brook overgrown with the Habbas-mimosa, and the Bongo bearers made a diversion in the day’s proceedings by instituting a _battue_ in the long steppe-grass in which they succeeded in killing four ichneumons.

The following section of our march was through bush-thickets abundant in pools; and, to judge by the numerous traces that we noticed, it must have been a district that was much frequented by elephants.

The ever-recurring swamps seriously impeded our third morning’s march, which was across the forest of the Alwady. The first villages that we reached belonged to the district of Teng Teng; here we deviated from the road that led directly towards the Meshera, and turned eastwards through more populous parts, hoping that provisions might be foraged up with less difficulty for the large troop of bearers. The natives, according to their wont, withdrew as we approached, so that, although the region was really well cultivated and thoroughly inhabited, it was now quite deserted; and the large murah belonging to a Dinka chief named Dal Kurdyook was reduced to a condition hardly better than a wilderness, except that the well-kept soil was covered with some hundreds of the great wooden pegs that are used for tethering the cattle.

[Sidenote: A CATTLE-RAID.]

Hardly was the baggage down from off the bearers’ backs before the command was issued for a cattle-raid. Off and away was every one who had arms to carry. Unless meat could be had, the bearers must starve. There was no corn left; and as to grubbing in the earth for roots, the days’ journeys were far too arduous to permit any extra fatigue for such a purpose. Meat must be got.

It was a strange sensation, and sufficiently unpleasant, to find myself left alone with my few helpless servants in the deserted murah; the Dinka might fall upon us at any moment; and against their thousands what chance had we? In the course, however, of little more than an hour my suspense was at an end. The marauders had made good use of their time, and now came back in triumph with fifteen cows and 200 sheep and goats. The leader of the band had the reputation of being one of the most adroit hands at cattle-stealing that the Khartoom companies had ever had in their service, seeming to put his party, almost by instinct, upon the right track for securing their prey. His experience made him quite aware that the bulk of the herds had all been cleared far away from the murahs and despatched to the most inaccessible of the swamps of the Tondy; they had had twenty-four hours’ start, and it was useless for a caravan, with its own baggage to look after, to think of going in pursuit of them. Still, one thing was certain; although all the large herds were gone, yet there must have been cows with their calves that were left behind for the support of the households that were in hiding close in the neighbourhood; against these the plot was laid, and succeeded by a very simple stratagem. The marauders marched out a little way to the south, turned short off into the forest, and then, having arranged themselves in a semicircle embracing the murah, proceeded in unbroken line right through the bush, driving everything before them. The result was, that within half a league of the place of encampment the whole of the reserve of Dal Kurdyook’s cows, as well as other animals, fell into the hands of Ghattas’s people. A portion of the sheep and goats was spared to be driven onwards with us to the Meshera, but all the rest were slain and consumed off-hand the very night on which they were captured. Such a wholesale slaughter, or such a lavish feasting, as took place in Dal Kurdyook’s murah I never witnessed before or since. When we took our departure on the following morning the layer of white ashes that covered the ground was literally dyed with the blood of the victims.

On the fourth day of our march, at a spot near the residence of Kudy, we re-entered our former road. The country was alternately wood and cultivated land. It was enlivened by numerous hamlets, and altogether, although it was neither rocky nor undulated, it had a general aspect, to which the detached clumps of trees contributed, not unlike Bongoland.

[Sidenote: KUDY AND TAKE.]

Kudy was a Dinka chief, a close ally of Ghattas’s marauders, and one of those characters, not uncommon in Central Africa, who have gained an inglorious notoriety for their treachery and infidelity to their own countrymen. How he managed to maintain his position in the place after his confederates had taken their departure, I cannot imagine, as his authority did not in the least extend beyond the immediate vicinity. The incidental meeting of our party with their ally of course put it into their heads to set out on another cattle-raid, and Kudy was appointed to the command. He had only to lead them out for a couple of leagues to the south-west of his residence to a region where Ghattas some years ago maintained a Seriba, and the object was effectually accomplished. Quite early in the day they came back with an immense number of sheep and goats, and nearly every bearer had a kid upon his shoulders. The quantity of corn, however, was very insignificant. Everything was done in the quietest way possible; there was not the least excitement. The people were so accustomed to these raids that the execution of them was quite a matter of routine.

On the following morning we reached the murah of Take, another Dinka chief, and while we made a halt our people effected yet another raid. Just as on the previous day, the produce in the way of corn was next to nothing, but large numbers both of goats and sheep were driven in, the whole of which were killed and cooked forthwith for the benefit of the soldiers and bearers.

In spite of the good understanding that existed between the Khartoomers and both these chieftains, every village throughout the district was utterly deserted, and with the exception of the families of Take and Kudy themselves we did not see a single human being.

The march of the sixth day led us through the territory of the Rek, a district remarkable for its wide sandflats. All along I had noticed that the pasture-lands were cropped so closely by the cattle that it might almost be fancied that they had been mown with a scythe; but although the grass was so short, it had, in consequence of the recent rains, a bright green look that was very refreshing.

Next day at noon we encamped beneath the sycamore by the wells of Lao. By some misunderstanding my people had come to the conclusion that we were to halt here for the night. Accordingly they unpacked all my things, and I was about settling myself in an empty hut when the tidings were told that the caravan had already renewed its march. By the time that I was again prepared to proceed the whole train was out of sight, so that under the guidance of a man who knew the proper route we had to follow in the rear as rapidly as we could. While we were on our way a violent storm came up from the west, and, bursting over our heads, soon put the whole locality under water. To add to our discomfort, our road happened to be through a wood and it was growing dusk, so that we had to go on stumbling into the continuous puddles, that were often very deep. In getting through these places I was at a great disadvantage; my heavy boots prevented me from keeping up with the light ambling trot of the natives, as I had constantly to stop and pull on first one and then the other, as they were half-dragged off my feet by the tenacious clay. Except a genuine African traveller, no one could imagine what ponderous lumps of mud stuck to the soles.

As we toiled along through the miry forest in the thick of the drenching rain, we were startled by hearing a volley of firearms in the direction of the caravan. Pitiable as had been our plight before, we felt it was worse than ever now; we did not doubt but that the party in advance had been attacked in retribution by the ill-treated Dinka. With throbbing hearts we reached the outskirts of the wood, every moment expecting to catch sight of the enemy who would cut us off at once from the main procession; but seeing the fires burning hospitably in the neighbouring villages we were soon reassured, and on rejoining our people found that the sounds that had alarmed us had been caused simply by the soldiers discharging their guns so that they might not become foul through the charges getting damp.

[Sidenote: REMAINS OF SHOL’S VILLAGE.]

Early next day, the eighth of our march, long before reaching the spot, we saw the tall columns of smoke rising from the murah of our old friend Kurdyook, the husband of the murdered Shol, and on approaching had the satisfaction of surveying the scene, which had long been strange to us, of a well-filled cattle-park. The very lowing of the herds was a welcome sound. Kurdyook himself soon appeared, and expatiated in very bitter terms upon the lamentable fate of his wife. We passed close to the spot where her huts had stood, and where our caravan had been so hospitably entertained on taking leave of her. The great Kigelia alone remained undisturbed in its glory; the residence was a heap of ashes, and there was nothing else to tell of poor old Shol’s former splendour than the strips and shreds of a great torn spirit-flask.

Very little rain had fallen here. The river had scarcely risen at all; we were able consequently to get down with dry feet to the edge of the Meshera, where, about noon, we were conveyed across to the little island upon which the Khartoomers pitched their camp. Between Ghattas’s Seriba and this spot I had counted 216,000 paces, showing that the entire distance we had walked was about eighty miles.

Except that the island which served for the landing-place had been completely cleared of trees the general appearance of the Meshera during the last two and a half years had undergone little alteration; the growth of the papyrus had diminished rather than otherwise, and the ambatch was still altogether wanting.

Not only attacks from the neighbouring tribes of the Afok and Alwady, but continuous outbreaks of cattle-plague had decimated the herds left by Shol, and there had been a great scarcity of corn. Boats, however, laden with durra had arrived from Khartoom, and, as a considerable portion of it was consigned to me, I availed myself of the opportunity to start a flourishing business with the natives, who in exchange for the corn brought me milk enough to make into butter. The milk was conveyed to me in separate bottle-gourds, and in order that I might get five pounds of butter I had to dole out in small quantities as much corn as would fill a wine-cask.