384 FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



Returning to the river, they observe an ancient heathen custom of 

 throwing some dates, as an offering, into the waves. 



At length each skipper orders his men to their posts. " Let go 

 the sail! Row, men, row row in the name of God, the All- 

 Merciful," he shouts. Thereupon he strikes up a song, with an 

 ever-recurring refrain; one of the rowers takes it up and sings verse 

 after verse; and all the rest accompany him with the rhythmically 

 repeated words: "Help us, help us, O Mohammed, help us, God's 

 messenger and prophet!" 



Slowly the bark gains the middle of the stream; quicker and 

 ever quicker it glides onwards; in a few minutes it is rushing, 

 more swiftly than ever, among the rocky islands above the rapid. 

 " O Said, give us good cheer," says the Reis, while the sailors go on 

 singing as before. More and more quickly the oars dip into the 

 turbid flood; the men, who were freshly anointed yesterday, are 

 naked to the loins, and the sweat pours down their bodies as they 

 strain every muscle. Praise and blame, flattery and reproaches, 

 promises and threats, blessings and curses, fall from the skipper's 

 mouth according as the boat fulfils or disappoints his wishes. The 

 strokes of the oars, pulled at full strength, follow each other more 

 quickly still, though their purpose is solely to direct the otherwise 

 exceedingly rapid course of the boat, and, as they often increase 

 the danger they seek to avoid, the Reis may be excused if he 

 exhausts all the hortatory vocabulary at his command in his 

 desire to stimulate his crew. " Bend to your oars; work, work, 

 my sons: show your strength, ye children and grandchildren of 

 heroes; display your prowess, ye brave; exert your strength, ye 

 giants; do honour to the prophet, all ye faithful! Oh, for the 

 meriezal Oh, for the scented damsels of Dongola! Oh, for the 

 delights of Cairo; all shall be yours. Larboard, I say, ye dogs, ye 

 children of dogs, ye grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and 

 litter of dogs, ye Christians, ye heathen, ye Jews, ye Kaffres, ye fire- 

 worshippers. Ah! ye rascals, ye swindlers, ye thieves, ye villains, 

 ye vagabonds, do you call this rowing? First oar, starboard! are 

 there women hanging about you ? Third oar, larboard ! throw over- 

 board the weaklings who are misleading you. That's right, well 



