CHAP. II.

Embark for Damer. — Disastrous Voyage. — Reach Damer. — Joseph’s Sufferings. — The March. — Banks of the Atbara. — An Arab Village.

The troops from Sennaar and Wollet-Medine had encamped opposite Chartum in Chobba, so as to march by land to Damer. The garrison of Chartum, also, had all, save a very small force, been conveyed over to the right bank of the Blue Nile. As I felt very unwell, I proposed following them by water, but now not a boat was to be seen or heard of, all having been seized on by government, for the conveyance of military stores, munition, and provisions, and without either owner or sailor daring to claim any payment for such services. I sent our cook Achmet down the Nile to look out, and there he hit on a boat belonging to our friend Faragh Effendi, but sunk to its edge in the water, by the rais, who had also got out of the way, that he might not have to sail without a fee. However, on our offering a fair sum for the use of the boat to Damer, as the rais could not be found, his brother was dragged out to put it in order. Our traps were carried on board, the mast lowered down so as to form a tent, and we arranged our beds on our chests, placed alongside each other,—a necessary precaution in this inhospitable and innless country. Bellotti, Dumont, the merchant, Bruno Rollet, a stout Savoyard, of Chartum, and myself, formed our party, and our cook, Achmet, was to look after the kitchen and victualling department.

Our boat would not go on, and every moment we stuck on one or other of the many sandbanks of the river. Our rais had to be threatened with the kurbash (a whip made of the hide of the Nile-horse, or giraffe, both excellent), and he confessed that he expected the proper rais, his brother, to whom he had sent notice of his being compelled to sail the boat, as he himself dared not venture to take her through the cataracts. Nor were my recollections of these, as I saw them on the way up, most pleasant, although they had made a far less lasting impression on my mind than the splendid scenery had done; as when coming, as if from a prison, out of the six or seven miles long rapids (el Bad) of Geb’l Charri, all appeared so glorious, and we seemed to have arrived in a new land. Ere long the brother came down to the banks, and we got him aboard, but hardly were we again afloat, when he again ran us ashore on the rocks at the first tschellel or foaming rapids,—a special term for the white waters of rushing falls,—and instantly the whole bottom of the boat was filled with water, he howling like an old woman, as he feared for his head if he lost the boat. In consequence of my exertions during the last days in Chartum, I had, for the three days we had now been on the water, been suffering from fever, attended with vomitings and diarrhœa; weak and miserable as I was, I could not have saved myself by swimming, had it been necessary, but, as I knew that our boat could not sink deeper than the bottom, and that it was now firm and fast on the rocks, as the ark on Mount Ararat, I felt no alarm and consoled the others. The holes and splits of our really almost unserviceable craft were stopped up, and the rais and crew made desperate efforts to get it off the water-covered rocks. With much naïveté the former prayed us all to get out for a single moment, which brought down on him a volley of curses and abuse from my companions, who would hear of nothing of the sort. The hot fit of my fever was past; so I took off all my upper garments, keeping, however, my shoes on, so that my feet might not be cut by the many thornmussels (etheria, Caill.), and sending Achmet first into the water, slid, feeble as I was, down after him: on this, the others followed my example, and in a few seconds we again had our heavy-laden bark afloat. Hardly had the boasting rais again begun his lies, that he was at home in Assuan, and knew the Nile as well as the palm of his hand, and had before now ascended it with Ismail Pascha, &c., &c., to all of which I calmly listened, when we again went bump on a hidden rock till all crashed again. Such was again and again our fate, till, after a long passage of eleven days, we arrived at Damer, during which we consumed various sheep, which we had forced the natives on the banks to sell to us. After my cold bath, my fever had left me, and all that remained of it was a real wolf’s appetite, which I, without feeling any trace of indigestion, indulged by most ravenous devourings. So sudden, in these climes, is the step from severe illness to perfect health.

On the morning of the 18th March, we at length landed in front of Damer, some three miles above the debouchement of the Atbara into the Nile. No longer are any remains of this hierarchical city to be seen, such as Burckhardt, in former days, beheld them:—it is now only a village, with some high, decaying, loam walls. A sudden alarm now seized me at not immediately beholding my brother, and I hurried off to the Pascha’s tent, pitched near the river’s bank, to announce my arrival, inquire for my brother, and excuse the delay caused by our perilous voyage. The Pascha received me kindly, and told me my brother had been ill, but was now recovered, and busied with the sick in a neighbouring tent. When the doctor and apothecary, having put on their uniform, entered, his face flushed with anger, and he sternly alluded to their having quitted their regiments and come by water; he then severely reprimanded them, saying, they had thrown the whole burden of looking after the sick on Hakim Jussuff (Dr. Joseph), and dismissed them with a Kedi-el-kanua (κανων, such is the law). The merchant Rollet, ever a bashful man, now crept in to receive certain commissions, but I made him a sign that he would not come off well just at this moment, and we left the tent together; but later, I so recommended him to the Pascha, that, so far as his business went, he placed full confidence in him. I found my brother perfectly recovered, after having, almost by force, made my way into his tent, where he had got over his most pressing business, having now little more to do than hand over the sick to Doctor Bellotti; most of the cases were ophthalmia and fever, from the soldiers being allowed no tents to shelter them; these having been looked to, nothing more had to be done than prepare for the morrow’s medical inspection, when the really sick and unserviceable were to be sent back to Chartum.

We had mutually to confess, although now again well, that both looked as if we had undergone severe illness. We sought rest and shade, went up into the village, lay down under a tree, and he there told me how he had fared on his journey. From Karreri he had crossed over with the Pascha to Halfaia, where the latter had assembled the chiefs of the Schaigies, and reminded them to be with their men punctually at their posts. From there the untiring dromedary rider (the Pascha) would have ridden on to Schendy, but gave up the idea on my brother’s remonstrances, as he feared both for the great man and himself; so they again embarked in the small quick kandschia, arrived at Schendy, and there disembarked; the Pascha wishing to see with his own eyes how far his arrangements there were completed. Mussa Effendi, who also had been ordered from the neighbourhood of Sennaar to take part in the chasua—a friend and countryman of the Pascha—was there, but ill. Soliman Effendi, the renegade doctor, had, too, arrived there, to take his leave of the great man (el kebir); but who, being in monstrous bad humour, demanded why he had quitted Chartum without permission,—how he had contracted so many debts there, and which, did he not at once pay, he would have him bastinadoed. Mussa Effendi had continued long ill in the Loam palace of the Pascha, and my brother had only saved him by placing a sentry at his door, to prevent his madly eating and drinking all he could get, as had been his practice till now; but this was for the future in so far put a stop to, as the sentry was ordered, under pain of five hundred blows of the stick, to cut off these supplies. The Pascha would most gladly have had Mussa with him, as he had been in Taka with Churschid Pascha; though he, for this very reason, prophesied no good would come of the present expedition. In the end, my brother had got matters settled. Mussa Effendi, and the renegade Soliman, whom the Pascha had not hesitated to recommend, on his head (the Turkish style, bi Rasak), to his friend, were to return to Chartum, and there, have an eye to the Pascha’s interests. Soliman Effendi had passed us on our voyage, and we could not then understand why he so cursed and fearfully abused all Turks, exclaiming, as all renegades ever do, that he was the mere slave of a set of rascals.

On the 14th March, at two o’clock P.M., the hottest part of the day, when my poor Joseph was about to retire for a siesta, the Pascha, who almost never rested or ate, became gloomy, and ordered out the dromedaries. At once all the camp was bustle and confusion. The Pascha, once mounted, was happy,—more than my brother was, who was anxiously eyeing the beasts, and heard, with no slight thrill of alarm, the Pascha pronounce, as he pointed to a dromedary, the word “kerkab,” (mount); the more so, as he well knew the fearless style of riding of his leader, which his own native attendants much feared. Joseph now had to mount a dromedary for the first time; though in our desert-crossings we both had sat for weeks on the broad cloth-covered backs of the baggage camels. But, up he got; and there, high raised in air, he sat as if on a stool, all loose, without any hold as on a horse, and hardly had got the rope rein into his hand, when off he had to trot alongside his leader, who, of course, took no notice of his companion’s dilemma; though the latter feared every moment to lose his balance, and break his neck or limbs.

At first the ride did him good, but, from the constant shaking, and from being at every step thrown forward by the animal’s shuffling gait, ere long his bowels were set into such a state of inquietude, from the sharp ride of two hours under a burning sun, that he had to remain behind, on the thorn-covered waste near the banks of the Nile, and await the coming up of the servants and baggage, while all the others marched on and passed him. Only one pitying Ababdi-Bedouin remained by him; but, unfortunately, neither understood the other’s language.[4] Headache, convulsive vomitings, racking heat, horrible thirst, and no water, as he had no vessel to fetch any in, and the Bedouin would not leave him to fetch one, was Joseph’s lot; then delirium, but still sufficient consciousness to be aware, now and then, of men passing and asking, “Min di ajahu?” (Who is the sick man?) “Hakim Pascha” and then “Hue bimùtt” (he lies dying); and so they passed on, and still the servants came not. At last, about nine o’clock at night, came our hunter Abdallah, with coverings and cushions, and made him up a bed, on which he lay all night in violent fever, but recovered somewhat ere sunrise; and, after a six hours’ ride, again rejoined the Pascha’s camp, who had been anxiously looking out for him, and welcomed him with kind, compassionate concern. A wretched house was assigned him as a shelter against the sun’s heat, but the soldiers had already got possession of it;—smoke, fires for baking bread, the chattering of the soldiers with the women and idle, restless villagers, added to the burning pain of his galled seat, from which the blood had run down into his trowsers, soaking his drawers, stockings, and all his under clothing—as I now saw with my own eyes—allowed him to find neither rest nor peace. His only comfort was a young black-brown girl, of some twelve years of age, whom the Bedouin had brought to cool him with a fan and keep off the flies and insects. In his dreaming mood he fancied this girl was some brilliant white guardian spirit, sent to give him ease. Next day, when on leaving he would have given her some small farewell present, she whom he had seen all night through, kneeling at his head and waving her fan, had vanished, and her mother with the utmost reluctance took the money; though, from her language not being Arabic, Joseph could not say why she so long declined it.

In the warmest part of the day, two o’clock P.M., the Pascha was again the first to mount his dromedary, and it really seemed as if he desired to find out how much himself and followers could endure. At rapid pace he rode on along the banks of the Nile, past the pyramids of Assur (to which I shall revert), through bushes and past some single Doum-palms, till he came to the village of El Djebl or Djebelab, situated in a small horse-shoe like bend of the hills. Before, when on our journey up to Sennaar, I had placed Joseph, who some days before had succumbed under the sun-stroke, beneath one of these palms, left him there, and at his repeated request had ridden on to examine the pyramids and their neighbourhood; but during my absence he was so annoyed by the blue-tailed lizards running backwards and forwards (his abhorrence) over him, that on my return I found he had left his position and been carried, more dead than alive, into the boat. The road at the foot of the hills was villanous, and most dangerous from the large stones, that had rolled down from above, and Joseph’s dromedary threatened, from the rapid pace, to fall at every step, he no longer having power remaining to support it or himself. After being led and borne for some way by Abdallah and the Bedouin, my brother managed, but on foot, to reach the village on the hill range where the Pascha had halted, though he was too weak to go to him and beg for a boat. There he passed the night in fever and delirium, on an angareb (the common bed place of the country, formed of small strips of plaited camel hide crossed on a frame), and in the morning felt so enfeebled, that he despaired of ever recovering, and only hoped once again to behold me, to warn me to quit the country. As good luck would have it, there was then in that neighbourhood a boat of our friend, the merchant Hassam Mosnùr from Berber; this was put into requisition. Placed on an ass, and held on it, Joseph rode over a well cultivated plain, regularly watered by irrigating channels filled from the Nile by water-wheels; and along with the Pascha’s secretary, the Copt Chakill, embarked in the boat, in which, after daily attacks of fever, he at length, on the morning of the 17th of March, arrived, when sleeping soundly, at Damer. Even my lot had not been so bad as this, but now again we could both breathe freely, and heart and courage revived again.

20th March.—It was said we were to march at L’Asser, so we could not carry out our plans of together visiting the pyramids; as I have already given an account of my visit to them in my “Journey to the Source of the White Nile” (p. 55.), I shall not repeat it here. It seems, however, beyond a doubt to me,—who before leaving Bellad-Sudan also visited the mystic city of Mandera which many, without having seen it, are inclined to hold as the ancient city of Meroe,—that this ancient island city of Meroe did in former days extend along the Nile at the valley of Bach’r amie, westward from the pyramids.[5] The river has since those days retired, as there are now to be seen, some two hundred paces from it, foundation walls and remains of buildings, behind which I hit on four male sphinxes, one of which a young vagabond, who had run after us, mounting, claimed as his horse.

I had persuaded my brother to purchase from Sheik Soliman a small, smooth-going dromedary, as the tall, hard-trotting ones the Pascha had presented to us at Chartum were likely to have thrown him into a fit of apoplexy, his slender form not being able to withstand rough usage and constant joltings like my much stronger one. His ride from Schendy having so much injured him, led me to mount outside the camp this new purchase of his, a lively little animal, a bischari, and I may say as boldly as when I, a boy, was thrown on the so-called wild horse of the stud at Embscher-Bruch, in Westphalia, much to my kind old father’s delight and rejoicing, who, as he ran alongside, holding the caveson, and delighting in his son’s bravery and daring, little suspected this would afterwards cost him so much money. Riding here, however, was a different thing—no mane or saddle-bow for the boy to hold on by, nor any saddle or stirrup for the trained horseman: my brother laughed, but I held myself together, and all went on well. The saddle was certainly desperately slippery, although I did get some hold on it, when, after the custom of the riders here, I crossed my legs over its bow. The rich Turks always spread over the saddle a long-haired, red-coloured ram’s fleece, like that thrown over a Hungarian coach-box; so we had two carpets (Siggadi), and our great dromedaries brought out, and one fastened over each of the saddles. The Zais (inspector of horses and fore-rider) of the Pascha and I placed ourselves on the taller dromedaries, and I looked proudly down on my brother, mounted on his small animal. We rode under the Zais’s instructions, and fancied we were gaining some slight insight into the business, as we held in our left hands the halter and rein drawn through the left nostril, used for turning, and flourished the kurbasch in our right. The two-humped camel (C. Bactrianus) is unknown here; those used are smooth-haired, fine-coated, and of bright colour as any blood horse. The camel and dromedary are the same species, and there is no more difference between them than between a cart and a race-horse. The camels are trained to lie down for loading and unloading, and the signal for so doing is given by a peculiar sound made by drawing in the breath through the teeth, and a gentle stroke of the whip above the knees. The dromedary is called hagihn; the camel, the chimmal, plur. chomal.

We had, at dawn of morning, started on an inspection of this ruined city, Damer, to see if any ancient remains were to be found; but neither brick nor hewn stone did we see. The houses not yet crumbled into ruins were built of meteoric stone (top).[6] We made our way into a couple of such houses; inside all was dark, as windows there were none, but a few round or angular holes up near the flat roofs, such as are in the sloping walls of Egyptian temples. By these means greater strength is lent to the bad material used in building, and this is evident in the high towers or loam castles in the land of Barabra, and from the enduring remains of the pylones of the temples. Any one who doubts the durability of such loam edifices may soon be convinced both of this and the high national liking for them, by examining these old buildings. We generally found in the houses two monstrous clay jars, some six or eight feet high, such as are common also in Greece, for the storing of grain, bread, &c.; one bed-place for the whole family, and a bench or settle, spread with mats, and raised some three or four feet from the ground. The other houses were the common Æthiopian tokuls, to which was attached an oblong bower of wicker-work, a tolerably cool abode, and called a Recuba. The tokul is formed by a circular loam wall, with a pointed roof placed on it; and such huts, with little difference, are to be found in every part of Africa and certain parts of America—Guiana, for instance, where, probably, the negroes introduced them. On entering one of these huts we were welcomed by a Turk from Bosnia, who, with grave face, told my brother he possessed a certain herb that would, in three or four days, perfectly cure broken bones; but he would not produce this wondrous plant, as he feared my brother might steal his secret. We also here heard that at the point of land where the Atbara runs into the Nile there was a village called Kenisse (meaning Church or Christian ruins), where were many old buildings (bint gaddim), in which bricks might be found. That in very early times the Christian faith spread widely in Æthiopia is well known, and we were about to start on a second trial ride to Kenisse, when we were told it was certain that the Pascha would set out at midday or afternoon.

We set about arranging our traps into camel-loads, a camel carrying about three cwts., so that all might be in order. To our cook, Achmet, as the most necessary attendant on the march, we assigned a dromedary, and loaded it with our most valuable articles, so as to always have these near us, as much was to be feared for all baggage that went with the rear-guard, this being much exposed to be cut off or plundered. In these climes water is ever a first consideration, and to each soldier had been served out a small leathern flask, while on our camels were placed many water-skins (girbe), and yet Achmet had, in addition, to hang on the shady side of his beast another water-skin, made of the untanned hide of an antelope, as we wished to preserve our own two water-filled sensamien (bags of leather, fitted with a mouthpiece, screwed in, with a hole and straw or reed to drink from) untouched, in case of any bursting; and also as the water in these keeps cooler, being able to ooze through the pores, which is not the case with the girbes, as so doing would cause too great loss. Then we had also to convey the hammab, a tripod six feet high, indispensable in warm countries at unloading or camping, to hang the water-skins on, as the ground is so hot as to suck up all the water, and where no hammab is to be got, some other means of keeping the skins off the earth is always invented. These water-skins are without seam; the heads of the animals are generally cut off (usually sheep or goats are the sufferers), their skins worked off the body, without outward cut, down to the lower joints of the legs, that are left hanging on the skin, and bound across two and two, or crosswise, to keep all firm and united; the neck of the hide forms the mouth, and is firmly bound round and round with strong cord. Some practice is required to drink while riding, out of one of these, without spilling much water, which, often being more valuable than all other treasures, it is ever looked on as a serious fault to waste. Besides some clean linen and clothing in a leathern bag (jurab), Achmet had on the other side our cotton-stuffed pillows; his saddle was formed of two Abyssinian cow-hides, placed above each other, intended to be used under our carpets, and these proved a most excellent protection against the numerous thorns that covered the soil, or when covered with two great white barakans, folded four times together, formed a very perfect sleeping-place for us when suffering from cold or fever. Atop of all this high-piled load sat the cook himself. We had entrusted to his care some of our arms, three guns and an old-fashioned pistol, with some ammunition; two of the first he had fastened to his dromedary, as we carried our double-barrelled rifles, but a long Turkish gun he had hung over his neck, surely no very comfortable companion during a long, sharp ride. In addition to our double rifles, that we could have in our hands in an instant, we also carried pistols, strung in a belt instead of being stuck in the girdle, and by our sides hung proudly our cavalry swords,—our Turkish sabres, too light for our unaccustomed hands, having been safely stowed away in our chests. Our cook had wisely provided himself with some of the needful tools of his trade, things that neither Joseph or I had thought of. This seems a long list, but still it is but a very poor one of all required for a journey in this land.

At three o’clock in the afternoon (fi l’Asser), a cannon was fired, and soon a sudden commotion and stir was evident in the camp, this being the signal for starting. In an instant our tent was down, and as each camel lay already with shackled knee, between the chests and bags intended for it, and our girbes were ere now filled, all was so quickly laden that our people were at the head of the train, where by our orders they were to keep. We ourselves, mounting, rode up to the Pascha, who had halted to the eastward of Damer, his saddled horses and dromedaries drawn up behind, and here out of the bustle was making his further arrangements at his ease. He growled at the great disorder, but consoled himself that in future things would go on better. It was, indeed, a most varied scene: the Turkish cavalry, in their national dress of every hue and colour, with yellow or green standards and small kettle-drums; the cavalry of the Schaigies and Mograbin Arabs on horses, dromedaries, and on foot; the Sheiks and Moluk (little kings), with their little arm-bearers behind them on the same camels, with spears, lances, swords and shields of leather; the numerous asses and camels, the former led by the halter by almost every second infantry soldier, so that the owners might ride in turn; drums, trumpets, and all kinds of deafening music, &c. The Chabir (caravan leader), with lance and shield, was on his dromedary, far in advance; him we followed, along with the Pascha, who was on horseback, and with picturesque disorder each detachment freed itself from the confused crowd, and came on in our track. The artillery consisted of two field-pieces drawn by camels which the Pascha had trained to this work, to take the place of the usual mules in the desert. Abd-el-Kader, the jovial Topschi Baschi, mounted on his mule, led them on. The Turks, the greater number of whom were Circassians, the Kurds, Arnauts, or Albanians, who an hour before could hardly put one leg before another, were now changed men; the instant they were in their saddles they were galloping like madmen round the Pascha, and thrashing their horses with as little compassion as if they had been intoxicated with opium. But all this was in honour of the Pascha, and a show-off before him of their invincible courage. The way lay over the desert, but was tolerably well marked out. Towards morning the Pascha, accompanied by the Chabir, rode on in advance; but we did not follow him, as I felt unwell. It was dark night when we reached the left bank of the Atbara, where, throwing ourselves down among the bushes, we sought sleep, without waiting or caring for food.

In the morning we commenced looking about us, and came on two Saghies or water-wheels of the Kabyle Omerab. The Atbara is a fine, clear river, with high banks, pretty deep, though here fordable, and at this ford the Pascha posted a guard of forty men, so that the enemy might not take us in the rear. The country on the right bank of the river was yet called Daghela; the forest opposite is a swamp, in which were yet to be seen many lakes full of water, and also a dry river bed, which, from its considerable breadth, must, at times, pour a large body of water into the Atbara. Some Omerabs having joined us, we asked the name of this gohr or rain-brook—often, in tropical climes, of great size and importance—running into the Atbara; to our surprise he answered el Mogren, which immediately reminded us of Father Burckhardt, who so named the lower part of the Atbara. We also knew right well that Mogren means the spot where two rivers join, as in the case of the Blue and White Niles; but here we were told, most distinctly, that the gohr itself was named Mogren. Unfortunately, we did not ask if the people on the opposite side of the Mogren do not sometimes apply that name to the Atbara, down to its junction with the Nile, and if the gohr was to be merely looked on as an auxiliary stream, and included in the name. The Dutchman does not blush to call the main stream of the Rhine the Waal, because a river of that name, on which, perhaps, he once dwelt and still loves, runs into it and flows on with it into the ocean, but hails all on its banks as his countrymen. In Taka I saw the great Gohr-el-Gash, the waters of which are said to vanish—how, if this monstrous mass of water, which it is impossible the earth can drink in, were to collect again in the low lands and form this mogren? and this, the direction of the Gohr-el-Gash, and the slope of the country seem to me but too plainly to point out. Whence the gohr comes they know not; “min fok,” (from above) they said, and that in the rainy season it gathers from all sides, from which gathering may be the peculiar meaning of the word gohr.

The high banks on our side of the river, were at this season covered with luxuriant, beautiful turf, with strong, fruit-laden Dom-palms (Cucifera Thebaica), mimosas, and large thorn trees (nebbek), the bright green of which lent a freshness and enlivening colour to the scene, hardly to have been looked for from the slimy, sandy soil. The Atbara was some 150 or 200 paces broad, but seemed, from the distance of the opposite bank, to have, when full, a breadth of 600 or 800 paces. The banks consisted of layers of sandstone, and it was plainly visible, that this sandstone was in a continuous state of forming, as in some spots it was very soft, and in these we found encrusted wood and petrifactions, but no conchylites. Further upwards, the soil was good, the land well cultivated and sown with durra[7], divided off into small squares, intersected with narrow channels or canals; but we saw no saghies (water-wheels), so either must the river’s overflowings have been guided into these canals, or they must have been filled by means of water-tight baskets (saduff), as in Nubia and elsewhere. We saw no one who could give us any information about this, and at midday returned to the camp, as we had been warned to keep near it, the tribes of this neighbourhood being neither most friendly nor trustworthy.

21st March.—On starting on our excursion this morning, we had felt pretty well, but now we suddenly felt as ill and downcast as ever, but the cannon-shot re-echoed through the wood, and all must mount again. At first steppes that threw back the sun’s rays most dreadfully on us; we drove before us herds of thirty or forty gazelles, the Pascha and Turks setting off in chase of them. Ere long we again approached the river, where the most luxuriant vegetation was visible, also many Dom-palms, cut across under the crown (pollarded), the more easily to get at their branches for mats and ropes, though this kills the trees. Large fields there were none, but merely cultivated patches, and the green turf extending under the trees on the river’s banks, as in Germany. The soil was dark, and seemed of similar quality to that of the Nile banks, cut up like it also, but in smaller polygons. A considerable deposit of slime was to be seen on the rough bark of the lower part of the trees; and were the height of these slime-marks carried out in a horizontal line over the land, the river’s overflow would seem to reach to the stony ridges of the invariably higher desert land. Riding was most perilous, partly from the thorny trees with reversed hooks, strong enough to tear clothes from the body, or eyes out of one’s head (and eyes were lost by some), partly from the crowding, when all had to make, in the dark, their way as well as they could, and then, from the ground being saturated with water, falls were many and severe. At last, at midnight, after a march of ten hours, a halt was made, not one of half an hour’s duration having, until now, been allowed. In the Pascha’s neighbourhood, a fire was kindled, but we sought out a dark spot behind a bush on the river’s bank, and at once lay down, and so wearied was I, that I would not even drink the coffee which the old Deli Mustapha, the Pascha’s kawedschi, brought us. One must have experienced what that weariness is, which, brought on and conjoined with illness, goes so far as to lead him to despise the choicest food rather than arouse himself to partake of it, to judge of my state.

22nd March.—The river’s course here is from south-east to north-west, though as yesterday, any current is hardly perceptible. The banks are distant from each other, and the river is yet some 150 or 200 paces in width,—the bed sandstone, the country beautiful and green as yesterday, larger durra fields, but only two water-wheels. The Atbara is not rich in fish, but crocodiles and Nile-horses abide in the deeper places the whole year through. We saw and heard many geese and ducks, but did not disturb them, as, had we shot them we could not have got them; other birds we saw not, nor did we fall in, outside the camp, with any natives, all of whom seemed, like the Omerabs, to have got out of the army’s way, the Sheik of the latter, alone, being with the camp, and accompanying it through his country. From the fissures of the sandstone in the river’s bed sprouted up a splendid species of willow, with bright green leaves, like a freshly shot oleander, full cup-shaped white blossoms, and odour like jessamine, but not so pungent or agreeable; pistils full of white bitter milky fluid; seed very small and hanging in threads of a finger’s length, intersecting each other like a spider’s web. The river makes great windings between its wildly beautiful banks, from which the trees hang down, often touching the water, and in many places having fallen into it, render its navigation somewhat difficult, though these hindrances could be easily overcome. The increasing heat, accompanied by a hotter wind, that blew disagreeably round our brows, sent us back to the camp. This district of country has as inhabitants, the Kabyle of Kammarabs, who are a considerable tribe, and extend southward to the lands of the Schukurie, under the great Sheik, Abu Sind, and has, as its superior chief, the great Sheik, Aburof. On the opposite right bank of the Atbara live the Kabyle of the Anafidab, a most thievish race, and much given to plunder and steal the Kammarab’s camels. The Anafidab are of the race or tribe (Gins) of the Bischari, and form a kabyle (clan or community) of their own, under their own chiefs.[8] We hear, that all grain, to be had here and hereabouts, is to be delivered up at the six day’s journey distant from here, Gos Rajeb, where a great magazine is to be formed.

The cannon was fired at midday, just as we had finished our meal; although at first seeing this I had felt little appetite, and almost loathed food, still I tried to eat; but suddenly I became seriously ill, and beheld with horror our tent struck over my head, my bed, too, packed up, and ourselves with our servants, obliged to follow the army. I could not mount, I felt as if the sun was heaping glowing coals on my head, but did not lose my consciousness. My brother and I, therefore, resolved to remain behind till the heat of the day was over, and ride on after the crisis was past, if I was ever to get over it. Supported by Joseph and Achmet, I was led to a Dom-palm, near which I sank down, as if dead, under shade, certainly, but on the burning earth. A fearful vomiting and dysentery, sending sweat from every pore, attacked me; I could not remain lying on my carpet, but to keep in the shade, I had, with my trowsers about my heels, to crawl on the sand, round and round the tree, while the spot I had quitted was covered over with clean sand. Dr. Bellotti and the apothecary, Dumont, having heard I was dying, had quitted the army’s slow train, and come to see for themselves, if the report was true or not. They advised me to give up the expedition, the Italian, contrary to my brother’s opinion however, holding my case as most serious. I made Bellotti a sign, and as he bent over me, prayed him, in case of my death, to do his utmost to persuade Joseph to quit Bellad Sudan, and then he could fill all his good posts. Dumont could hardly restrain his laughter, and the two mounted and rode off. Never in my life have I longed for sunset as I then did; the very last sun beams seemed to effect my hair, as if each separate one was electrified and discharging the fluid into my bursting head. Hardly was the torturing sun under the horizon when I felt much better, could again stand up and move slowly about. Good humoured Arab herd lads approached our fire, pitied my state, and brought me milk and durra bread.[9] It was a beautiful evening, the full moon glittering on the waters of the Atbara, silvered the dark crowns of the Dom-palms; wild geese now and then screamed, and some pigeons cooed round us,—all else was silence.

23rd March.—There is a deep pleasure in sleeping in the open air, where weather and climate will permit. Often had I in Greece, even when most sleepy, sought the free air, and, particularly at Nauplia, mounted up to the higher Herculesburg of Tirynth and the rocks of Palmedes, and there passed the night. What a waking in the divine dawn of beauteous, freest Nature! Much restored, two hours before sunrise, we mounted our dromedaries, but did not long trust ourselves in the sun, as at his first beams we dismounted at the tents of some Arabs of the Kabyle of the Kammarabs. We were hospitably received, and entertained with milk and bread; ere long they brought us a great wooden dish (gadda) of the lochma, a stiff soup or batter of durra-meal (hagien), with a hollow in its centre full of butter, and, even when only eaten with the hands, no bad food. At least a dozen men would have found sufficient to eat in this Arab polenta. The baker’s oven, or brick-kilnlike tents (birsch; tents of canvass, gemma; those on boats, denda), are formed of mats of palm-leaves, stretched over boughs, low before but high at the back, where there is a sort of elevated bed-place, or divan, covered with palm mats, and over these a kind of reed-stalks, split fine, is bound by small stripes of hide. This elevation, when used as a bed or seat, is protected from cold wind and curiosity, by being hung round by black and white striped coarse woollen coverlets, and this part of the tent is called the beit, or house. Of such tents some thirty were here, not placed in the shade, but somewhat distant from the larger trees. In the time of the tropical rains these tents are much reduced in size by their inmates, who then sit in them like snails in their shells. Such rains do not extend beyond the mouth of the forest-surrounded Atbara, and seldom bestow a shower on the Berber lands (called by the Arabs el Mucheïrof), where the loam-built towns would soon go to pieces under the torrents of the Chariff, which the tokuls are needed to withstand. The older and principal men came to visit us, and the Wokul of the Sheik, who is in attendance on the Pascha, smoked out of a bone. The country round is flat, sandy, and covered with thorn-bushes. The Dom-palms do not extend so far from the river, as they love a moist soil. Grass and herbage we saw as little of as stones, although the river seemed to overflow far here. A shrub, Tundo, with many small red flowers, very similar to our wild rose, was abundant; birds, save pigeons, very rare; but numerous large white vultures, hovering over and devouring the fallen cattle it left behind, marked the way the army had taken.

Towards evening we again were en route, following the track of the field-pieces, but soon had to halt again, as this guiding-trace was hid in darkness. So, like knights-errant, we turned into another settlement of Kammarabs, which was large and flourishing, and, with its numerous fires before the tents, offered a lively picture of native life. The head man received us most kindly, told us we had been commended to his care by the Pascha, who had also sent orders back to Damer that we were every where to be looked on as his friends. While we sat eating our durra bread and milk, and looking round us for sheep or goat to stick on the spit, twenty Schaigies, mounted on dromedaries, arrived, sent by the Pascha to seek us out and act as our guard. We now continued our march by moonlight, were again become great people, and looked on as Turks. We were told the tribe of Kammarabs was small, and therefore the Schaigies took the high hand, and would have made a sad business of it, had we not kept order, as in every village a guide was to be taken by force, the Arabs, holding us for Turks, putting no trust in our promise of payment. Our Schaigies proved brisk, merry fellows, and played many a mad prank to amuse us.

24th March.—We encamped, about midnight, some distance from the river banks, and found ourselves on a Steppe. The soil was bad and sandy; the barrowlike range of hillocks, that ran from east to west, were sparingly covered with herbage and a few white flowering Mimosas. At mid-day we turned into a small village of some ten huts, belonging to the Kabyle of the Wood Naga, a branch or tribe of the Bischari. These people had no durra for our camels, or would not give us any. The head man brought us milk and durra-teig, but demanded soap and medicine in exchange. On the right bank of the Atbara here dwell the Bischari; the banks of the river are high, nor does it seem to overflow them; but that falls of rain are frequent and heavy, is plainly shown by the high grass under the thorny nebbek and Dom-palm trees. All about the banks, trees are to be seen overthrown and floating in the water. The Schaigies hunted out a deserter, and we could plainly mark the hatred in which they held the Egyptians. I promised I would obtain the Pascha’s pardon for him, and kept my word. At the next village men came at once up to us, offering us water, but for the Egyptian neither ass nor camel could be got. The huts of this village, also, were without all shade. Here, again, two guides had to be seized on by force, and our presence alone prevented our spoil-loving body-guard from plundering it. We then reached the great village Wady, which was picturesquely situated under shady trees, along the river’s bank. From hence our road lay over a wide plain, without tree or bush to afford us shelter; at midnight we halted and dismounted.