floods into the main Nile in the middle of June. At
that season the White Nile is at a considerable level,
although not at its highest; and the sudden rush of
water descending from Abyssinia into the main channel
already at a fair level from the White Nile, causes the
annual inundation in Lower Egypt.
During the year that I passed in the northern
portion of Abyssinia and its frontiers, the rains continued
with great violence for three months, the last
shower falling on the 16th September, from which date
there was neither dew nor rain until the following
May. The great rivers expended, and the mountain-
torrents dried u p ; the Atbara disappeared, and once
more became a sheet of glaring sand. The rivers
Settite, Salaam, and Angrab, although much reduced,
are nevertheless perennial streams, flowing into the
Atbara from the lofty Abyssinian mountains, but the
parched, sandy bed of the latter river absorbs the
entire supply, nor does one drop of water reach the
Nile from the Atbara during the dry season. The
wonderful absorption by the sand of that river is an
illustration of the impotence of the Blue Nile to
contend unaided with the Nubian deserts, which, were
it not for the steady volume of the White Nile, would
drink every drop of water before the river could pass
the 25th degree of latitude,
The principal affluents of the Blue Nile are the
Rahad and Dinder, flowing, like all others, from
Abyssinia. The Rahad is entirely dry during the
dry season, and the Dinder is reduced to a succession
of deep pools, divided by sandbanks, the bed of the
river being exposed. These pools are the resort of
numerous hippopotami and the natural inhabitants of
the river.
Having completed the exploration of the various
affluents to the Nile from Abyssinia, passing through
the Basé country and the portion of Abyssinia occupied
by Mek Nimmur, I arrived at Khartoum, the capital
of the Soudan provinces, on the 11th June, 1862.
Khartoum is situated in lat. 15° 29', on a point
of land forming the angle between the White and
Blue Niles at their junction. A more miserable,
filthy, and unhealthy spot can hardly be imagined.
Far as the eye can reach, upon all sides, is a sandy
desert. The town, chiefly composed of huts of unburnt
brick, extends over a flat hardly above the level
of the river at high-water, and is occasionally flooded.
Although containing about 30,000 inhabitants, and
densely crowded, there are neither drains nor cesspools :
the streets are redolent with inconceivable nuisances ;
should animals die, they remain where they fall, to
create pestilence and disgust. There are, nevertheless,