The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile - Samuel White Baker (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📗
- Author: Samuel White Baker
- Performer: -
Book online «The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile - Samuel White Baker (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📗». Author Samuel White Baker
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
Comments (0)