The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile by Samuel White Baker (love story novels in english .txt) 📕
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becomes his substitute. To every herd of cattle there is a sacred bull,
which is supposed to exert an influence over the prosperity of the
flocks; his horns are ornamented with tufts of feathers, and frequently
with small bells, and he invariably leads the great herd to pasture. On
starting in the early morning from the cattle kraal the natives address
the bull, telling him “to watch over the herd; to keep the cows from
straying; and to lead them to the sweetest pastures, so that they shall
give abundance of milk,” &c.
Jan. 21st.—Last night a sudden squall carried away Koorshid Aga’s
mast by the deck, leaving him a complete wreck. The weather to-day is
dull, oppressive, and dead calm. As usual, endless marshes, and
mosquitoes. I never either saw or heard of so disgusting a country as
that bordering the White Nile from Khartoum to this point. Course S.E.
as nearly as I can judge, but the endless windings, and the absence of
any mark as a point, make it difficult to give an accurate course—the
river about a hundred yards in width of clear water; alive with floating
vegetation, with a current of about two miles per hour.
Jan. 22d.—The luxuries of the country as usual—malaria, marshes,
mosquitoes, misery; far as the eye can reach, vast treeless marshes
perfectly lifeless. At times progressing slowly by towing, the men
struggling through the water with the rope; at other times by running
round the boat in a circle, pulling with their hands at the grass, which
thus acts like the cogs of a wheel to move us gradually forward. One of
my horses, “Filfil,” out of pure amusement kicks at the men as they
pass, and having succeeded several times in kicking them into the river,
he perseveres in the fun, I believe for lack of other employment.
Hippopotami are heard snorting in the high reeds both day and night, but
we see very few. The black women on board are daily quarrelling together
and fighting like bull-dogs; little Gaddum Her is a regular black toy
terrier, rather old, wonderfully strong, very short, but making up in
spirit for what she lacks in stature; she is the quintessence of vice,
being ready for a stand-up fight at the shortest notice. On one occasion
she fought with her antagonist until both fell down the hold, smashing
all my water jars; on another day they both fell into the river. The
ennui of this wretched voyage appears to try the temper of both man and
beast; the horses, donkeys, and camels are constantly fighting and
biting at all around.
Jan. 23d.—At 8 a.m. arrived at Aboukooka, the establishment of a
French trader. It is impossible to describe the misery of the land; in
the midst of the vast expanse of marsh is a little plot of dry ground
about thirty-five yards square, and within thirty yards of the river,
but to be reached only by wading through the swamp. The establishment
consisted of about a dozen straw huts, occupied by a wretched
fever-stricken set of people; the vakeel, and others employed, came to
the boats to beg for corn. I stopped for ten minutes at the charming
watering-place Aboukooka to obtain the news of the country. The current
at this point is as usual very strong, being upwards of two and a half
miles per hour; the river is quite bank-full although not actually
flooding, the windings endless; one moment our course is due north, then
east, then again north, and as suddenly due south; in fact, we face
every point of the compass within an hour. Frequently the noggurs that
are far in the rear appear in advance; it is a heartbreaking river
without a single redeeming point; I do not wonder at the failure of all
expeditions in this wretched country. There is a breeze to-day, thus the
oppressive heat and stagnated marsh atmosphere is relieved. I have
always remarked that when the sky is clouded we suffer more from heat
and oppression than when the day is clear; there is a weight in the
atmosphere that would be interesting if tested by the barometer.
The water is excessively bad throughout the White Nile, especially
between the Shillook and the Kytch tribes; that of the Bahr Gazal is
even worse. The reis Diabb tells me that the north wind always fails
between the Nuehr and the upper portion of the Kytch. I could not
believe that so miserable a country existed as the whole of this land.
There is no game to be seen at this season, few birds, and not even
crocodiles show themselves; all the water-animals are hidden in the high
grass; thus there is absolutely nothing living to be seen, but day after
day is passed in winding slowly through the labyrinth of endless marsh,
through clouds of mosquitoes.
At 4.20 a.m. arrived at the Austrian mission-station of St. Croix, and
I delivered a letter to the chief of the establishment, Herr Morlang.
Jan. 24th.—Took observations of the sun, making latitude 6 degrees
39’.
The mission-station consists of about twenty grass huts on a patch of
dry ground close to the river. The church is a small hut, but neatly
arranged. Herr Morlang acknowledged, with great feeling, that the
mission was absolutely useless among such savages; that he had worked
with much zeal for many years, but that the natives were utterly
impracticable. They were far below the brutes, as the latter show signs
of affection to those who are kind to them; while the natives, on the
contrary, are utterly obtuse to all feelings of gratitude. He described
the people as lying and deceitful to a superlative degree; the more they
receive the more they desire, but in return they will do nothing.
Twenty or thirty of these disgusting, ash-smeared, stark naked brutes,
armed with clubs of hard wood brought to a point, were lying idly about
the station. The mission having given up the White Nile as a total
failure, Herr Morlang sold the whole village and mission-station to
Koorshid Aga this morning for 3,000 piastres, 30 pounds! I purchased a
horse of the missionaries for 1,000 piastres, which I christened
“Priest” as coming from the mission; he is a good-looking animal, and
has been used to the gun, as the unfortunate Baron Harnier rode him
buffalo-hunting. This good sportsman was a Prussian nobleman, who with
two European attendants, had for some time amused himself by collecting
objects of natural history and shooting in this neighbourhood. Both his
Europeans succumbed to marsh fever.
The end of Baron Harnier was exceedingly tragic. Having wounded a
buffalo, the animal charged a native attendant and threw him to the
ground; Baron Harnier was unloaded, and with great courage he attacked
the buffalo with the butt-end of his rifle to rescue the man then
beneath the animal’s horns. The buffalo left the man and turned upon his
new assailant. The native, far from assisting his master, who had thus
jeopardized his life to save him, fled from the spot. The unfortunate
baron was found by the missionaries trampled and gored into an
undistinguishable mass; and the dead body of the buffalo was found at a
short distance, the animal having been mortally wounded. I went to see
the grave of this brave Prussian, who had thus sacrificed so noble a
life for so worthless an object as a cowardly native. It had been well
cared for by the kind hands of the missionaries and was protected by
thorn bushes laid around it, but I fear it will be neglected now that
the mission has fallen into unholy hands. It is a pitiable sight to
witness the self-sacrifice that many noble men have made in these
frightful countries without any good results. Near to the grave of Baron
Harnier are those of several members of the mission, who have left their
bones in this horrid land, while not one convert has been made from the
mission of St. Croix.
The river divides into two branches, about five miles above this
station, forming an island. Upon this is a fishing-station of the
natives; the native name of the spot is Pomone. The country is swampy
and scantily covered with bushes and small trees, but no actual timber.
As usual, the entire country is dead flat; it abounds with elephants a
few miles inland. Herr Morlang describes the whole of the White Nile
traders as a mere colony of robbers, who pillage and shoot the natives
at discretion. On the opposite side of the river there is a large
neglected garden, belonging to the mission. Although the soil is
extremely rich, neither grapes nor pomegranate will succeed; they bear
fruit, but of a very acrid flavour. Dates blossom, but will not fruit.
Jan. 25th.—Started at 7 A.M. Course S.E.
Jan. 26th.—The Bohr tribe on the east bank. No wind. The current
nearly three miles per hour. The river about a hundred and twenty yards
wide in clear water. Marshes and flats, as usual. Thermometer throughout
the journey, at 6 A.M., 68 degrees Fahr., and at noon 86 to 93 degrees
Fahr.
Jan. 27th.—One day is a repetition of the preceding.
Jan. 28th.—Passed two bivouacs of the Aliab tribe, with great herds
of cattle on the west bank. The natives appeared to be friendly, dancing
and gesticulating as the boats passed. The White Nile tribe not only
milk their cows, but they bleed their cattle periodically, and boil the
blood for food. Driving a lance into a vein in the neck, they bleed the
animal copiously, which operation is repeated about once a month.
Jan. 29th.—Passed a multitude of cattle and natives on a spot on the
right bank, in clouds of smoke as a “chasse des moustiques.” They make
tumuli of dung, which are constantly on fire, fresh fuel being
continually added, to drive away the mosquitoes. Around these heaps the
cattle crowd in hundreds, living with the natives in the smoke. By
degrees the heaps of ashes become about eight feet high; they are then
used as sleeping-places and watch-stations by the natives, who, rubbing
themselves all over with the ashes, have a ghastly and devilish
appearance that is indescribable. The country is covered with old tumuli
formed in this manner. A camp may contain twenty or thirty such, in
addition to fresh heaps that are constantly burning. Fires of cowdung
are also made on the leveled tops of the old heaps, and bundles of green
canes, about sixteen feet high, are planted on the summit; these wave in
the breeze like a plume of ostrich feathers, and give shade to the
people during the heat of the day.
JAN. 30TH.—Arrived at the “Shir” tribe. The men are, as usual in
these countries, armed with well-made ebony clubs, two lances, a bow
(always strung), and a bundle of arrows; their hands are completely full
of weapons; and they carry a neatly-made miniature stool slung upon
their backs, in addition to an immense pipe. Thus a man carries all that
be most values about his person. The females in this tribe are not
absolutely naked; like those of the Kytch, they wear small lappets of
tanned leather as broad as the hand; at the back of the belt, which
supports this apron, is a tail which reaches to the lower portions of
the thighs; this tail is formed of finely-cut strips of leather, and
the costume has doubtless been the foundation for the report I had
received from the Arabs, “that a tribe in Central Africa had tails like
horses.” The women carry their children very conveniently in a skin
slung from their shoulders across the back, and secured by a thong round
the waist; in this the young savage sits delightfully.
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