CHAPTER XLII.

"When I awoke my eyes were greeted by the most charming, peaceful scene it has ever fallen to my lot to witness.

"The Nile, for a considerable distance, is interspersed with a number of islets (called in these parts the ninety-nine islands) which may be very easily mistaken for clumps of verdure and flowers. On either bank innumerable aquatic plants and tropical creepers float in the stream, or, springing up from the shore, seek shelter under the tamarinds, soonts, and palms. The rounded roofs of the riverside villages recall to our minds the summer-houses of an English garden.

"To this pleasing tableau succeeds very quickly a most picturesque sight. We now began to feel the influence of the sixth cataract. The Nile, instead of flowing in majestic breadth, becomes suddenly contracted, and is converted into a torrent, walled on either side by cliffs, and carrying us in imagination to the passes in the Pyrenees. The peak of Raouian and the valley-straits of Sablouk complete the illusion.

"We land for the purpose of visiting the little village of Dasrurab and the green plain surrounding it. In the middle of this plain I notice a number of tripod-shaped tressels, the object of which it is beyond me to describe. Ali undertakes to enlighten me. It appears that just about harvest time flocks of birds fly from all parts of Nubia to collect the grain, in anticipation of the owner thereof. The latter have hit upon no better idea for the protection of their property than to place at intervals these tressels or stands, on each of which a slave has to squat during the whole of the day, thus taking the place of those dressed-up figures with which we in France frighten away the birds. The wretched creatures condemned, under a scorching sun, to play the part of living scare-crows, are as a rule the aged of both sexes, who, incapable from infirmity of gaining a livelihood in any other way, thus terribly earn the morsel of bread which their master condescends to throw to them. Most assuredly, my dear Pommerelle, the more I reflect, the less I regret, if indeed I ever regretted it, my yesterday's expedition against the slave-traders. Don't let anybody talk to me again of the ease and comfort enjoyed by the Eastern slave. As long as they are ornamental they are taken the greatest care of, they are decked out and polished till they positively shine, but as soon as age deteriorates them, they may rot on any dung-hill.

"We are approaching Khartoum, and the villages on the right bank become more numerous. The patches of verdure have disappeared, and the Nile has lost its picturesque character. On the right nothing can be seen but sandy wastes, apparently skirting the district of Akaba, an extensive tract of uncultivated country merging into the desert of Bahiouda.

"Passing by Kerrieri, we arrive at last at Khartoum, a town replete with bustle and movement, in the full tide of Turkish and African civilization, crowded with the countless vessels and boats of all sorts and sizes, which, at this time of the year, throng the port. In a few days, towards the middle of December, the navigation of the White Nile will become easy, and all the merchants of the country are hard rat work preparing their cargoes of European commodities for the south—silk, cotton, and woollen goods, muslins, powder, sugar, spices, coffee, and arrack—in exchange for the produce of equatorial countries, such as gum, gold dust, ostrich feathers, rhinoceros horns, hippopotamus and elephant's tusks, and last but not least, a goodly number of slaves, whom, in spite of the Government edicts, they know how to hide in some den and sell to a pacha or a bey, whose position places him out of the reach of the law. We must admit this fundamental principle—in Eastern countries nothing changes, old manners and customs are always more powerful than laws and firmans. The Turk is, so to speak, steeped in the past; he sometimes is subject to superficial reform, but he soon returns to his former errors, and stagnates afresh in his ancient traditions.

"I promised to take you as far as Khartoum, and I have kept my promise. I will not, however, limit you to your pound of flesh, but, before taking leave of you, perhaps, for some time, I will give you a few concise notes about this town, curious in more ways than one. These notes are indispensable to you, if you really take any interest in our journey and wish to follow our onward course. A little patience, and Périères and Delange will take you for a walk through this wonderful place, and will unfold to you its secrets; for, so I am told, there is a truly marvellous freedom of morals in Khartoum, and in it the scent of European corruption mingles with the acrid stench of savage life.

"Starting into existence in 1823, the town has developed rapidly, and now can certainly boast more than 50,000 inhabitants, divided into several classes. The first class is composed of, at the most, fifty Europeans, whose numbers are annually decreased by one-third owing to the unhealthy climate, but are regularly recruited from Cairo by fresh arrivals eager for rapid fortunes. The principal business is almost entirely confined to ten of these Europeans, amongst whom there are some honourable men. The ivory trade is, in fact, distinct from the slave trade, and it is a mistake, very generally made, to suppose that the first is merely a cloak to the other. All these large men of business have agencies in the equatorial provinces where elephants' tusks are bartered for home produce. Unfortunately, these agencies, lawful in themselves, have become rendezvous for the slave hunters, and serve as starting points for their expeditions into the unexplored regions, thus affording additional facilities for the prosecution of their infamous trade. Hence the confusion which exists in the minds of most men on this subject.

"The remaining classes of the population of Khartoum comprise a number of Turks, still more Arab traders from Upper Egypt, El-Hejaz, and the western shores of the Red Sea, and a crowd of _fakis_, a race of quacks who combine the occupation of schoolmaster with that of a dealer in fetiches or charms. The greater part of them pursue another calling, and occupy themselves in a shameless trade, which, to speak very mildly, does not conduce to the morality of Khartoum.

"Finally, the most numerous class, in itself as large as all the others put together, is composed of a mixture of negroes, soldiers, and sailors, whom every leader of a White River expedition is compelled to enlist into his service, of petty itinerant dealers, Almehs licensed or otherwise, slaves of all nationalities, and a garrison of about four thousand men, recruited from the Nubians or Bashi-Bazouks. The rapid rise of the town is to be attributed to its admirable position from a commercial point of view. Khartoum is, in fact, situated at the junction of the Bahr-el-Abiad, or White River, and the Bahr-el-Azrek, or Blue River, which, when united, form the Nile, properly so called. To the south of Khartoum, and ascending towards the Equator, the people of the country rarely make use of the word Nile. They say the White River when they wish to describe the stream which flows directly from the south, and the Blue River when they allude to the other stream which passes Sennaar and rises in Abyssinia.

"The White Nile, or River, is undoubtedly the more important of these two streams, and its importance is so great that it very often gives its name to the sister stream. It is itself formed by the confluence, at about 8° latitude N, of two other affluents; the Bahr-el-Djebel, more commonly called the Sobat, and the Bahr-el-Gazal, or Gazelle River, which flows eastwards. These various water routes take the vessels either to Gondokoro, the extreme navigable point, and where most voyages of discovery have ended, or to the ivory country, amongst the Nuehr, Djours, and Dinka tribes, or in the direction of the great lakes.

"But to come back to Khartoum, of which you will now have some idea both as regards its population and its geographical position. A few lines will suffice to show you over its streets, its gardens, and its monuments. The only public buildings to be met with are Government House, called the Divan, the prison, some Mosques, without anything remarkable about them, a hospital, tolerably well managed, thanks to the assistance rendered by European doctors, a powder manufactory, and a few barracks, But Khartoum is worthy of mention for the truly exceptional beauty of its gardens, which extend for some miles along the left bank of the Blue River. The plants, half a century old, afford the most delicious shade, and ought to have a beneficial effect on the sanitary condition of the town. They have, however, no such effect, owing to the place having been built originally in the midst of a pestilential marsh, and to render it healthy it must be pulled down altogether—a measure far too radical for this country.

"And now, my dear fellow, as soon as I have told you about the markets, you will know Khartoum as well as I do. I could only judge of them by the people who crossed each other's path in them, in every sense of the phrase, and whose complexions, of every hue, indicated their varied origin. All the races who inhabit the world pass by, one after the other; from the white-skinned Greek to the ebony Negro, the intermediate stages being the dark brown Arab, the copper coloured Abyssinian, certain tribes whose colour verges on the blue (_asrak_), others on green (_ahkdar_), and others still partaking of red (ahmar), a sort of human rainbow in fact.

"My task is ended, my dear Pommerelle, and you will have no more descriptions from me. I yield my pen to other hands."