The negroes wear frequently small animals’ skins on their heads, which hang down over the nape of their necks. The sun has as injurious an effect here on the former as on the vertebral columns of the latter. A quarter of an hour later to S., and our corpulent friend, Mount Nerkanjin, steps forward from S.W., blue and boldly, from the background over the above-named island, near which a gohr flows from W.S.W. At half-past twelve o’clock we lie to at the right shore, near the same, to let the men rest and eat. I could not tell what made me so hot, but the thermometer shews just 33°, although this morning it was only 20°, as usual. We only stop twenty minutes, and the poor crew must again to the rope, S.S.E. After one o’clock, we halt a second time near a little island, the narrowest arm of which we soon follow, on account of the greater depth. The current in this canal, which has fifty to sixty paces, is uncommonly strong. Two o’clock.—From S.S.E. to S.W. by S., and immediately to the left S. by E., and right S.S.W. A quarter after two o’clock.—A magnificent east wind: we shall make four miles to S. by W. and S.S.W.; but it slackens immediately after casting out the log, and only refreshing breezes breathe through the windows. In order to get from this place, we assist the hoisted sails by libàhn. A small island before us closes the narrow reach of our course, which our ship, until half-past two, nearly fills up. Three o’clock, S.E. by S, and on the right round a corner S.S.W., a few paces, then immediately left to S., where we stop a moment. “El Bah’r kebir!” our people are shouting on all sides; for they take the broad stream, wherein we are now sailing, for the White Nile itself. An arm separates from it to N.N.W.; the last land on the right is therefore also an island. We go by the left shore of the main stream, where it winds from S.S.W. to E.N.E. It is called here, as up the river, Kirboli, and both sides of it are inhabited by the Elliàbs; therefore there is no doubt that it is the main stream. The great island just mentioned is called Tui. We proceed at four o’clock to S.S.W., and Mount Nerkanjin remains in a south-westerly direction as previously. Half an hour later, we go from S.S.W. to S.; still no village, nor familiar tree appears; even the sailors begin again to doubt—for aught I care,—only forward; so that at last it must be resolved to wait for the rainy season. At half-past four o’clock S.S.E.; we halt on the sand, and no one appears to be sure of his point, least of all Arnaud, who cannot comprehend his own journal.