20 feet thick, and so solid that a hippopotamus can cross it with impunity. Experience has proved that the best way of removing such an obstacle is to commence from the down-stream end and cut the surface by means of trenches into blocks of some 10 feet square. Round the block thus cut a wire hawser is bound, and the steamer to which it is attached goes full speed astern. This operation is repeated until the block is pulled out. It is then allowed to float down-stream, and another is removed in the same manner. The work is long and laborious, but when the 'plug,' so to speak, of the obstruction has been removed, the pressure of the water assists the process, and at length the whole mass bursts and finds its way down the stream.
One striking feature of this region is the almost entire absence of all kinds of life. Not a fishing village or a canoe is ever seen. Even the hippopotamus and the crocodile appear to shun this locality, and water-birds, elsewhere so plentiful, are, with the exception of a few night-herons or an occasional cormorant, rarely met with here. If, however, this solitude is to be deplored by day, the same complaint cannot be made during the night—as far, at all events, as insect life is concerned. With the disappearance of the sun the mosquito makes his appearance in countless myriads, and his hum resounds through the entire period of darkness. The air swarms with these pests, and on a still night life is made a burden by their attentions.
The general feeling of all those whom an unkind fate has obliged to spend any time within the 'sudd' region is one of relief when they have passed through it, and have issued again into the open river and into an atmosphere comparatively clearer and less unwholesome.
In spite of the drawbacks connected with climate, mosquitoes, and monotony of landscape, it must, nevertheless, be admitted that even this dismal country occasionally produces a spectacle which goes far to redeem the depressing influences of its surroundings.
