The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile, Samuel White Baker [inspirational novels .TXT] 📗

and a half an hour. The quality of

the water is very superior to that of the White Nile—this would suggest

that it is of mountain origin. Upward course of Sobat south, 25 degrees

east. Upward course of the White Nile west, 2 degrees north from the

Sobat junction.

 

4th Jan.—By observation of sun’s meridian altitude, I make the latitude

of the Sobat junction 9 degrees 21 minutes 14 seconds. Busy fishing the

yard of the “Clumsy,” and mending sails. The camels and donkeys all

well—plenty of fine grass—made a good stock of hay. My reis and

boatmen tell me that the Sobat, within a few days’ sail of the junction,

divides into seven branches, all shallow and with a rapid current. The

banks are flat, and the river is now bank-full. Although the water is

perfectly clear, and there is no appearance of flood, yet masses of

weeds, as though torn from their beds by torrents, are constantly

floating down the stream. One of my men has been up the river to the

farthest navigable point; he declares that it is fed by many mountain

torrents, and that it runs out very rapidly at the cessation of the

rains. I sounded the river in many places, the depth varying very

slightly, from twenty-seven to twenty-eight feet. At 5 P.M. set sail

with a light breeze, and glided along the dead water of the White Nile.

Full moon—the water like a mirror; the country one vast and apparently

interminable marsh—the river about a mile wide, and more or less

covered with floating plants. The night still as death; dogs barking in

the distant villages, and herds of hippopotami snorting in all

directions, being disturbed by the boats. Course west.

 

5th Jan.—Fine breeze, as much as we can carry; boats running at eight

or nine miles an hour—no stream perceptible; vast marshes; the clear

water of the river not more than 150 yards wide, forming a channel

through the great extent of water grass resembling high sugarcanes,

which conceal the true extent of the river. About six miles west from

the Sobat junction on the north side of the river, is a kind of

backwater, extending north like a lake for a distance of several days’

boat journey: this is eventually lost in regions of high grass and

marshes; in the wet season this forms a large lake. A hill bearing north

20 degrees west so distant as to be hardly discernible.

 

The Bahr Giraffe is a small river entering the Nile on the south bank

between the Sobat and Bahr el Gazal—my reis (Diabb) tells me it is

merely a branch from the White Nile from the Aliab country, and not an

independent river. Course west, 10 degrees north, the current about one

mile per hour. Marshes and ambatch, far as the eye can reach.

 

At 6.40 P.M. reached the Bahr el Gazal; the junction has the appearance

of a lake about three miles in length, by one in width, varying

according to seasons. Although bank-full, there is no stream whatever

from the Bahr el Gazal, and it has the appearance of a backwater formed

by the Nile. The water being clear and perfectly dead, a stranger would

imagine it to be an overflow of the Nile, were the existence of the Bahr

el Gazal unknown. The Bahr el Gazal extends due west from this point for

a great distance, the entire river being a system of marshes, stagnant

water overgrown by rushes, and ambatch wood, through which a channel has

to be cleared to permit the passage of a boat. Little or no water can

descend to the Nile from this river, otherwise there would be some

trifling current at the embouchure. The Nile has a stream of about a

mile and a half per hour, as it sweeps suddenly round the angle,

changing its downward course from north to east. The breadth in this

spot does not exceed 130 yards; but it is impossible to determine the

actual width of the river, as its extent is concealed by reeds with

which the country is entirely covered to the horizon.

 

The White Nile having an upward course of west 10 degrees north,

variation of compass 10 degrees west, from the Sobat to the Bahr el

Gazal junction, now turns abruptly to south 10 degrees east. From native

accounts there is a great extent of lake country at this point. The

general appearance of the country denotes a vast flat, with slight

depressions; these form extensive lakes during the wet season, and

sodden marshes during the dry weather; thus contradictory accounts of

the country may be given by travellers according to the seasons at which

they examined it. There is nothing to denote large permanent lakes; vast

masses of water plants and vegetation, requiring both a wet and dry

season, exist throughout; but there are no great tracts of deep water.

The lake at the Bahr el Gazal entrance is from seven to nine feet deep,

by soundings in various places. Anchored the little squadron, as I wait

here for observations. Had the “Clumsy’s” yard lowered and examined. Cut

a supply of grass for the animals.

 

Jan. 6th.—Overhauled the stores. My stock of liquor will last to

Gondokoro; after that spot “vive la misere.” It is curious in African

travel to mark the degrees of luxury and misery; how, one by one, the

wine, spirits bread, sugar, tea, etc., are dropped like the feathers of

a moulting bird, and nevertheless we go ahead contented. My men busy

cutting grass, washing, fishing, etc.

 

Latitude, by meridian altitude of sun, 9 degrees 29 minutes. Difference

of time by observation between this point and the Sobat junction, 4 min.

26 secs., 1 degree 6 minutes 30 seconds distance. Caught some perch, but

without the red fin of the European species; also some boulti with the

net. The latter is a variety of perch growing to about four pounds’

weight, and is excellent eating.

 

Sailed at 3 P.M. Masses of the beautiful but gloomy Papyrus rush,

growing in dense thickets about eighteen feet above the water. I

measured the diameter of one head, or crown, four feet one inch. _ Jan.

7th.—Started at 6 A.M.; course E. 10 degrees S.; wind dead against us;

the “Clumsy” not in sight. Obliged to haul along by fastening long ropes

to the grass about a hundred yards ahead. This is frightful work; the

men must swim that distance to secure the rope, and those on board

hauling it in gradually, pull the vessel against the stream. Nothing can

exceed the labor and tediousness of this operation. From constant work

in the water many of my men are suffering from fever. The temperature is

much higher than when we left Khartoum; the country, as usual, one vast

marsh. At night the hoarse music of hippopotami snorting and playing

among the high-flooded reeds, and the singing of countless myriads of

mosquitoes—the nightingales of the White Nile. My black fellow,

Richarn, whom I had appointed corporal, will soon be reduced to the

ranks; the animal is spoiled by sheer drink. Having been drunk every day

in Khartoum, and now being separated from his liquor, he is plunged into

a black melancholy. He sits upon the luggage like a sick rook, doing

minstrelsy, playing the rababa (guitar), and smoking the whole day,

unless asleep, which is half that time: he is sighing after the merissa

(beer) pots of Egypt. This man is an illustration of missionary success.

He was brought up from boyhood at the Austrian mission, and he is a

genuine specimen of the average results. He told me a few days ago that

“he is no longer a Christian.” There are two varieties of convolvolus

growing here; also a peculiar gourd, which, when dry and divested of its

shell, exposes a vegetable sponge, formed of a dense but fine network of

fibers; the seeds are contained in the center of this fiber. The bright

yellow flowers of the ambatch, and of a tree resembling a laburnum, are

in great profusion. The men completely done: I served them out a measure

of grog. The “Clumsy” not in sight.

 

Jan. 8th.—Waited all night for the “Clumsy.” She appeared at 8 A.M.,

when the reis and several men received the whip for laziness. All three

vessels now rounded a sharp turn in the river, and the wind being then

favorable, we were soon under sail. The clear water of the river from

the Bahr el Gazal to this point, does not exceed a hundred and twenty

yards in width. The stream runs at one and three-quarter miles per hour,

bringing with it a quantity of floating vegetation. The fact of a strong

current both above and below the Bahr el Gazal junction, while the lake

at that point is dead water, proves that I was right in my surmise, that

no water flows from the Bahr el Gazal into the Nile during this season,

and that the lake and the extensive marshes at that locality are caused

as much by the surplus water of the White Nile flowing into a

depression, as they are by the Bahr el Gazal, the water of the latter

river being absorbed by the immense marshes.

 

Yesterday we anchored at a dry spot, on which grew many mimosas of the

red bark variety; the ground was a dead flat, and the river was up to

the roots of the trees near the margin; thus the river is quite full at

this season, but not flooded. There was no watermark upon the stems of

the trees; thus I have little doubt that the actual rise of the

water-level during the rainy season is very trifling, as the water

extends over a prodigious extent of surface, the river having no banks.

The entire country is merely a vast marsh, with a river flowing through

the midst. At this season last year I was on the Settite. That great

river and the Atbara were then excessively low.

 

The Blue Nile was also low at the same time. On the contrary, the White

Nile and the Sobat, although not at their highest, are bank-full, while

the former two are failing; this proves that the White Nile and the

Sobat rise far south, among mountains subject to a rainfall at different

seasons, extending over a greater portion of the year than the rainy

season of Abyssinia and the neighbouring Galla country.

 

It is not surprising that the ancients gave up the exploration of the

Nile when they came to the countless windings and difficulties of the

marshes; the river is like an entangled skein of thread. Wind light;

course S. 20 degrees W. The strong north wind that took us from Khartoum

has long since become a mere breath. It never blows in this latitude

regularly from the north. The wind commences at between 8 and 9 A.M.,

and sinks at sunset; thus the voyage through these frightful marshes and

windings is tedious and melancholy beyond description. Great numbers of

hippopotami this evening, greeting the boats with their loud snorting

bellow, which vibrates through the vessels.

 

Jan. 9th.—Two natives fishing; left their canoe and ran on the approach

of our boats. My men wished to steal it, which of course I prevented; it

was a simple dome palm hollowed. In the canoe was a harpoon, very neatly

made, with only one barb. Both sides of the river from the Bahr el Gazal

belong to the Nuehr tribe. Course S.E.; wind very light; windings of

river endless; continual hauling. At about half an hour before sunset,

as the men were hauling the boat along by dragging at the high reeds

from the deck, a man at the masthead reported a buffalo standing on a

dry piece of ground near the river; being in want of meat, the men

begged