At half-past five o’clock, from S.E. to S.S.W., and shortly afterwards S., and again S.S.W. I see strings of white beads, that may have been introduced by the Felati already mentioned; for the White Stream itself does not seem, up to this moment, to form any road of communication to the tribes who are ever at war with each other. From E.S.E. to S. by W., where we halt at sunset, and I go on shore. The Tshièrrs, possessing both shores here, are a very handsome race of men; tall, strongly built, and well fed. There is a good nature and courtesy in their behaviour, shewing, in itself, external cultivation. I can scarcely persuade myself that I am in the middle of Africa. The “stipes Æthiops,” as the Romans called it, always falls away the further we ascend the river. This type, indigenous particularly to the Dinkas, has not only entirely disappeared, but a nobler and more natural motion in the limbs has taken its place. Every one of these people wears a small wooden fife round his neck, having three tones. They say that the strings of glass beads they wear come _from above_ (gèbeli, min fok), pointing up the river to the south. It almost seems as if there were a connection between these countries and the Atlantic Ocean. Although these people are armed with clubs, spears, bows, and poisoned arrows, yet there is something in the natural disposition of the human heart that prevents even our men from giving way to fear at a distance, but they take very good care not to offend the kind commoners of nature in any way.