Had I Been Alone, It Would Have Been No Hard Lot To Die Upon The
Untrodden Path Before Me; But There Was One Who, Although My Greatest
Comfort, Was Also My Greatest Care, One Whose Life Yet Dawned At So
Early An Age That Womanhood Was Still A Future.
I shuddered at the
prospect for her, should she be left alone in savage lands at my death;
and gladly would I have left her in the luxuries of home instead of
exposing her to the miseries of Africa.
It was in vain that I implored
her to remain, and that I painted the difficulties and perils still
blacker than I supposed they really would be. She was resolved, with
woman's constancy and devotion, to share all dangers and to follow me
through each rough footstep of the wild life before me. "And Ruth said,
Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee;
for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge;
thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God; where thou diest will
I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also,
if aught but death part thee and me."
Thus accompanied by my wife, on the 15th of April, 1861, I sailed up the
Nile from Cairo. The wind blew fair and strong from the north, and we
flew toward the south against the stream, watching those mysterious
waters with a firm resolve to track them to their distant fountain.
I had a firman from the Viceroy, a cook, and a dragoman. Thus my
impedimenta were not numerous. The firman was an order to all Egyptian
officials for assistance; the cook was dirty and incapable; and the
interpreter was nearly ignorant of English, although a professed
polyglot. With this small beginning, Africa was before me, and thus I
commenced the search for the sources of the Nile.
On arrival at Korosko, twenty-six days from Cairo, we started across the
Nubian Desert. During the cool months, from November until February, the
desert journey is not disagreeable; but the vast area of glowing sand
exposed to the scorching sun of summer, in addition to the withering
breath of the simoom, renders the forced march of two hundred and thirty
miles in seven days, at two and a half miles per hour, one of the most
fatiguing journeys that can he endured.
We entered a dead level plain of orange-colored sand, surrounded by
pyramidical hills. The surface was strewn with objects resembling cannon
shot and grape of all sizes from a 32-pounder downward, and looked like
the old battle-field of some infernal region - rocks glowing with heat,
not a vestige of vegetation, barren, withering desolation. The slow
rocking step of the camels was most irksome, and, despite the heat, I
dismounted to examine the Satanic bombs and cannon shot. Many of them
were as perfectly round as though cast in a mould, others were
egg-shaped, and all were hollow. With some difficulty I broke them, and
found them to contain a bright red sand. They were, in fact, volcanic
bombs that had been formed by the ejection of molten lava to a great
height from active volcanoes; these had become globular in falling, and,
having cooled before they reached the earth, they retained their forms
as hard spherical bodies, precisely resembling cannon shot. The exterior
was brown, and appeared to be rich in iron. The smaller specimens were
the more perfect spheres, as they cooled quickly; but many of the
heavier masses had evidently reached the earth when only half
solidified, and had collapsed upon falling. The sandy plain was covered
with such vestiges of volcanic action, and the infernal bombs lay as
imperishable relics of a hailstorm such as may have destroyed Sodom and
Gomorrah.
Passing through this wretched solitude, we entered upon a scene of
surpassing desolation. Far as the eye could reach were waves like a
stormy sea, gray, coldlooking waves in the burning heat; but no drop of
water. It appeared as though a sudden curse had turned a raging sea to
stone. The simoom blew over this horrible wilderness, and drifted the
hot sand into the crevices of the rocks, and the camels drooped their
heads before the suffocating wind; but still the caravan noiselessly
crept along over the rocky undulations, until the stormy sea was passed;
once more we were upon a boundless plain of sand and pebbles.
In forty-six hours and forty-five minutes' actual marching from Korosko,
we reached Moorahd, "the bitter well." This is a mournful spot, well
known to the tired and thirsty camel, the hope of reaching which has
urged him fainting on his weary way to drink one draught before he dies.
This is the camel's grave. Situated half way between Korosko and Abou
Hammed, the well of Moorahd is in an extinct crater, surrounded upon all
sides but one by precipitous cliffs about three hundred feet high. The
bottom is a dead flat, and forms a valley of sand about two hundred and
fifty yards wide. In this bosom of a crater, salt and bitter water is
found at a depth of only six feet from the surface. To this our tired
camels frantically rushed upon being unloaded.
The valley was a "valley of dry bones." Innumerable skeletons of camels
lay in all directions-the ships of the desert thus stranded on their
voyage. Withered heaps of parched skin and bone lay here and there, in
the distinct forms in which the camels had gasped their last. The dry
desert air had converted the hide into a coffin. There were no flies
here, thus there were no worms to devour the carcasses ; but the usual
sextons were the crows, although sometimes too few to perform their
office. These were perched upon the overhanging cliffs ; but no sooner
had our overworked camels taken their long draught and lain down
exhausted on the sand, than by common consent they descended from their
high places and walked round and round each tired beast.
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