The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile by Samuel White Baker (best ebook reader for chromebook .txt) 📖

for man.

Fortunately, this being the cold season, the winged plagues are absent.

The country beyond the inundated mimosa woods is of the usual sandy

character, with thorny Kittur bush. Saw a few antelopes. Stopped at a

horrible swamp to collect firewood. Anchored at night in a dead calm,

well out in the river to escape malaria from the swamped forest. This is

a precaution that the men would neglect, and my expedition might suffer

in consequence. Christmas Day!

 

26th Dec.—Good breeze at about 3 A.M.; made sail. I have never seen a

fog in this part of Africa; although the neighbourhood of the river is

swampy, the air is clear both in the morning and evening. Floating

islands of water-plants are now very numerous. There is a plant

something like a small cabbage (Pistia Stratiotes, L.), which floats

alone until it meets a comrade; these unite, and recruiting as they

float onward, they eventually form masses of many thousands, entangling

with other species of water-plants and floating wood, until they at

length form floating islands. Saw many hippopotami; the small hill in

the Dinka country seen from the masthead at 9.15 A.M.; breeze light, but

steady; the banks of the river, high grass and mimosas, but not forest

as formerly. Water lilies in full bloom, white, but larger than the

European variety. In the evening the crew and soldiers singing and

drumming.

 

27th Dec.—Blowing hard all night. Passed the Dinka hill at 3.30 A.M.

Obliged to take in sail, as it buried the head of the vessel and we

shipped much water. Staggering along under bare poles at about five

miles an hour. The true banks of the river are about five hundred yards

distant from the actual stream, this space being a mass of floating

water-plants, decayed vegetable matter, and a high reedy grass much

resembling sugarcanes; the latter excellent food for my animals. Many

very interesting water-plants and large quantities of Ambatch wood

(Anemone mirabilis)—this wood, of less specific gravity than cork, is

generally used for rafts; at this season it is in full bloom, its bright

yellow blossoms enlivening the dismal swamps. Secured very fine

specimens of a variety of helix from the floating islands. In this spot

the river is from 1500 yards to a mile wide; the country, flat and

uninteresting, being the usual scattered thorn bushes and arid plains,

the only actual timber being confined to the borders of the river.

Course, always south with few turns. My sponging-bath makes a good

pinnace for going ashore from the vessel. At 4.20 P.M. one of the

noggurs carried away her yard—the same boat that met with the accident

at our departure; hove to, and closed with the bank for repairs. Here is

an affair of delay; worked with my own hands until 9 p.m.; spliced the

yard, bound it with rhinoceros thongs, and secured the whole splice with

raw bull’s hide. Posted sentries—two on each boat, and two on shore.

 

28th Dec.—At work at break of day. Completed the repair of yard, which

is disgracefully faulty. Re-rigged the mast. Poor Johann will die, I

much fear. His constitution appears to be quite broken up; he has become

deaf, and there is every symptom of decay. I have done all I can for

him, but his voyage in this life is nearly over. Ship in order, and all

sailed together at 2:15 p.m. Strong north wind. Two vessels from

Khartoum passed us while repairing damages. I rearranged the donkeys,

dividing them into stalls containing three each, as they were such

donkeys that they crowded each other unnecessarily. Caught a curious

fish (Tetrodon physa of Geof.), that distends itself with air like a

bladder; colour black, and yellow stripes; lungs; apertures under the

fins, which open and shut by their movement, their motion being a

semi-revolution. This fish is a close link between fish and turtle; the

head is precisely that of the latter, having no teeth, but cutting jaws

of hard bone of immense power. Many minutes after the head had been

severed from the body, the jaws nipped with fury anything that was

inserted in the mouth, ripping through thin twigs and thick straw like a

pair of shears. The skin of the belly is white, and is armed with

prickles. The skin is wonderfully tough. I accordingly cut it into a

long thong, and bound up the stock of a rifle that had been split from

the recoil of heavy charges of powder. The flesh was strong of musk, and

uneatable. There is nothing so good as fish skin—or that of the

iguana, or of the crocodile—for lashing broken gun-stocks. Isinglass,

when taken fresh from the fish and bound round a broken stock like a

plaster, will become as strong as metal when dry. Country as usual—

flat and thorny bush. A heavy swell creates a curious effect in the

undulations of the green rafts upon the water. Dinka country on east

bank; Shillook on the west; course south; all Arab tribes are left

behind, and we are now thoroughly among the negroes.

 

29th Dec.—At midnight the river made a bend westward, which continued

for about fifteen miles. The wind being adverse, at 5 A.M. we found

ourselves fast in the grass and floating vegetation on the lee side. Two

hours’ hard work at two ropes, alternately, fastened to the high grass

ahead of the boat and hauled upon from the deck, warped us round the

bend of the river, which turning due south, we again ran before a

favourable gale for two hours; all the boats well together. The east

bank of the river is not discernible—a vast expanse of high reeds

stretching as far as the eye can reach; course P.M. W.S.W. At 4 P.M. the

“Clumsy,” as I have named one of our noggurs, suddenly carried away her

mast close by the board, the huge yard and rigging falling overboard

with the wreck, severely hurting two men and breaking one of their guns.

Hove to by an island on the Shillook side, towed the wreck ashore, and

assembled all the boats. Fortunately there is timber at hand; thus I cut

down a tree for a mast and got all ready for commencing repairs

tomorrow. Poor Johann is, as I had feared, dying; he bleeds from the

lungs, and is in the last stage of exhaustion. Posted six sentries.

 

30th Dec.—Johann is in a flying state, but sensible; all his hopes,

poor fellow, of saving money in my service and returning to Bavaria are

past. I sat by his bed for some hours; there was not a ray of hope; he

could speak with difficulty, and the flies walked across his glazed

eyeballs without his knowledge. Gently bathing his face and hands, I

asked him if I could deliver any message to his relatives. He faintly

uttered, “I am prepared to die; I have neither parents nor relations;

but there is one—she—” he faltered. He could not finish his sentence,

but his dying thoughts were with one he loved; far, far away from this

wild and miserable land, his spirit was transported to his native

village, and to the object that made life dear to him. Did not a shudder

pass over her, a chill warning at that sad moment when all was passing

away? I pressed his cold hand, and asked her name. Gathering his

remaining strength he murmured, “Krombach” [Krombach was merely the name

of his native village in Bavaria.] … “Es bleibt nur zu sterben.”

“Ich bin sehr dankbar.” These were the last words he spoke, “I am very

grateful.” I gazed sorrowfully at his attenuated figure, and at the now

powerless hand that had laid low many an elephant and lion, in its day

of strength; and the cold sweat of death lay thick upon his forehead.

Although the pulse was not yet still, Johann was gone.

 

31st Dec.—Johann died. I made a huge cross with my own hands from the

trunk of a tamarind tree, and by moonlight we laid him in his grave in

this lonely spot.

 

“No useless coffin inclosed his breast,

Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him;

But he lay like a pilgrim taking his rest,

With his mantle drawn around him.”

 

This is a mournful commencement of the voyage. Poor fellow, I did all I

could for him although that was but little; and hands far more tender

than mine ministered to his last necessities. This sad event closes the

year 1862. Made sail at 8.30 p.m., the repairs of ship being completed.

 

1863, Jan. 1st, 2 o’clock a.m.—Melancholy thoughts preventing sleep,

I have watched the arrival of the new year. Thank God for His blessings

during the past, and may He guide us through the untrodden path before

us! We arrived at the village of Mahomed Her in the Shillook country.

This man is a native of Dongola, who, having become a White Nile

adventurer, established himself among the Shillook tribe with a band of

ruffians, and is the arch-slaver of the Nile. The country, as usual, a

dead flat: many Shillook villages on west bank all deserted, owing to

Mahomed Her’s plundering. This fellow now assumes a right of territory,

and offers to pay tribute to the Egyptian Government, thus throwing a

sop to Cerberus to prevent intervention. Course S.W. The river in clear

water about seven hundred yards wide, but sedge on the east bank for a

couple of miles in width.

 

2d Jan.—The “Clumsy” lagging, come to grief again, having once more

sprung her rotten yard. Fine breeze, but obliged to wait upon this

wretched boat—the usual flat uninteresting marshes: Shillook villages

in great numbers on the terra firma to the west. Verily it is a pleasant

voyage; disgusting naked savages, everlasting marshes teeming with

mosquitoes, and the entire country devoid of anything of either common

interest or beauty. Course west the whole day; saw giraffes and one

ostrich on the east bank. On the west bank there is a regular line of

villages throughout the day’s voyage within half a mile of each other;

the country very thickly populated. The huts are of mud, thatched,

having a very small entrance—they resemble button mushrooms. The

Shillooks are wealthy, immense herds of cattle swarm throughout their

country. The natives navigate the river in two kinds of canoes-one of

which is a curious combination of raft and canoe formed of the Ambatch

wood, which is so light, that the whole affair is portable. The Ambatch

(Anemone mirabilis) is seldom larger than a man’s waist, and as it

tapers naturally to a point, the canoe rafts are quickly formed by

lashing the branches parallel to each other, and tying the narrow ends

together.

 

3d Jan.—The “Clumsy’s” yard having been lashed with rhinoceros’ hide,

fortunately holds together, although sprung. Stopped this morning on the

east bank, and gathered a supply of wood. On the west bank Shillook

villages as yesterday during the day’s voyage, all within half a mile of

each other; one village situated among a thick grove of the dolape palms

close to the river. The natives, afraid of our boats, decamped, likewise

the fishermen, who were harpooning fish from small fishing stations

among the reeds.

 

The country, as usual, dead flat, and very marshy on the east bank, upon

which side I see no signs of habitations. Course this morning south.

Arrived at the river Sobat junction at 12.40 P.M., and anchored about

half a mile within that river at a spot where the Turks had formerly

constructed a camp. Not a tree to be seen; but dead flats of prairie and

marsh as far as the eye can reach. The Sobat is not more than a hundred

and twenty yards in breadth.

 

I measured the stream by a floating gourd, which travelled 130 yards in

112 seconds, equal to about two miles