margin of the river to look for fresh tracks, as the animals were
compelled to visit the Settite to drink, and of course there was
no difficulty in discovering their traces. It appeared, however,
that the elephants had been frightened away from the
neighbourhood by the recent attack, as we rode for about ten
miles without seeing any fresh marks. We therefore struck inland,
on the east bank of the river, intending to return home by a
circuit. The country was exactly like an English park, with no
larger timber than thorn trees. Every now and then there was an
exception in a gigantic homera (Adansonia digitata), or baobab;
these, towering over the heads of the low mimosas, could be seen
from a great distance. Having steered direct for one, we halted,
and dismounted to rest the horses beneath the shade. This tree
was about forty feet in circumference, and the spongy trunk was
formed into a ladder by pegs of hard wood driven into its side by
the Base hunters, who had thus ascended the slippery stem in
search of honey. Bees are very fond of these trees, as they are
generally more or less hollow, and well adapted for hives. The
Adansonia digitata, although a tree, always reminds me of a
gigantic fungus; the stem is disproportioned in its immense
thickness to its height, and its branches are few in number, and
as massive in character as the stem. The wood is not much firmer
in substance than cork, and is as succulent as a carrot. In
Kordofan, where water is exceedingly scarce, the Adansonia is
frequently used as a reservoir; one of these huge hollow trees is
cleaned out and filled with water during the short rainy season.
The fruit was ripe at the time we halted, and after many
attempts, by throwing sticks, we succeeded in procuring a
considerable number. The sub-acid flavour of the seeds, enveloped
in a dry yellow powder within the large shell, was exceedingly