NUBIA AND THE NILE RAPIDS. 363 



thunders, rages and blusters, dashes and hisses, so that the very 

 rocks appear to quake. 



Beyond the rapids and whirlpools, which at this point are almost 

 continuous, the full-swollen Nile lies like a broad, calm lake; but 

 this pleasant picture, enhanced by the presence of several green 

 islands, is circumscribed by narrow limits. For, further up, the bed 

 of the stream is again divided by countless rocky islands, which 

 mark the beginning of the " Batte el Hadjar", or "rocky valley" of 

 the boatmen, in which lie no less than ten considerable rapids. It 

 is by far the dreariest region in Nubia, or in the whole Nile valley. 

 From the river there is usually nothing to be seen but sky and 

 water, rock and sand. The rocks rise steeply, sometimes almost 

 vertically, on either bank, and between them and the countless 

 islands the Nile is so cooped up that during its flood-time it reaches 

 a height of 40 to 50 feet above its lowest level. 



The rocky banks of the stream are as smooth as if they had 

 been polished; they gleam and glow by day as if they had just 

 left the earth's fiery interior. The beneficent stream rushes over 

 them, leaving scarcely a trace behind; indeed, only in a very few 

 places can it possibly exercise its prerogative of blessing. Here 

 and there, in receding creeks, or behind projecting bastions, which 

 divert the violent current, the river deposits its fertile mud and may 

 carry a few seeds to a resting-place. Then, even in this wilder- 

 ness, there is germination and growth, foliage and flowers. On all 

 the islands in whose rocky clefts mud has been caught and kept, 

 and in all the inlets which the current does not sweep, there is a 

 growth of willows and scattered mimosas, evidences of life in the 

 realm of death. When a willow has found a foothold it sends out 

 root after root, shoot after shoot, and soon the naked ground is 

 clothed in enlivening green. While the water is low the willows 

 gradually spread; when the flood comes the waves roll over both 

 island and willow-beds. Higher and higher rises the stream, fiercer 

 and stronger press the waves; the willows bow before them, but 

 keep firm hold of the rocks. For months the flood buries them, 

 all but a few twigs which project above the boiling, hissing waves; 

 yet the roots hold fast, and the shrubs sprout with renewed vigour 



