A number of ash-grey men set themselves to race us on the right shore from a little village; they fife, sing, and clap their hands, dance and jump, especially the young ones. On the left also the flat sand-shore is covered with ash-grey people. The song on both shores is kept up in the very same tune and time, which they alternate by strophes. There are hardly any weapons and ornaments to be seen on these men. Cleanliness, the red colour of the skin, and luxury, seem to disappear with the neighbourhood of the Sultan’s palace. Half-past seven o’clock. N.N.W. We have a beautiful river-path before us, winding towards N. Eight o’clock. An island at the left shore, the land arm of which is mostly dry. We circumnavigate this with the river, N.E. to N.N.W. When we came near to the natives, we found that they had tried the water a little; now, therefore, they dance and jump in long shining black boots and breeches, and grey close jerkins. Such was their appearance, and one really could not help laughing. Tokul-tops and a hamlet on the right shore; on the left a small island. Half-past eight o’clock. At the left side the beginning and end of two islands, with a beautiful margin of reeds, and blooming creepers. We go N.W.; a broad arm of the Nile in the right shore to N. by E.; a large lake far towards the trees to S.E., and another one equally large and distant, to the right of the Nile-arm to E. The lakes are only visible from the masts. Behind an island on the left, a cattle village, with numerous herds. Nine o’clock. From N. to N.W. A large crowd of women are singing, clapping their hands, jumping and shouting a bacchanalian huzza, as if they would make our acquaintance with might and main. A splendid shady group of trees, and a large tokul village, wherein they now may play the master, is in their vicinity. We land at the foot of the last-named island. I repair to Selim Capitan, to gather information through the Tershomàn. Ten o’clock. N. by E. On the left a broad gohr swerves to W., and is said to issue again among the Elliàbs. I remarked on the shore a kind of willow I had never yet seen, which is altogether similar to our Rhine willows. The reïs hugged the shore, to please me, but even the last copse slipped through my fingers, without my being able to cut off a branch. The forest of the right shore promises not only variety from a distance, but also cooling shade. Half-past ten o’clock. The river flows N.E.; on the right is a large village, near which we wind N.W.; then soon N.N.W.