We therefore mounted
our horses, and in two days we reached Katariff, rather less than
sixty miles distant. The journey was exceedingly uninteresting,
as the route lay across the monotonous flats of rich table land,
without a single object to attract the attention, except the long
line of villages which at intervals of about six miles lined the
way. During the dry weather (the present season) there was not a
drop of water in this country, except in wells far apart. Thus
the cattle within twenty miles of the Atbara were driven every
alternate day that great distance to the river, as the wells
would not supply the large herds of the Arabs; although the
animals could support life by drinking every alternate day, the
cows were dry upon the day of fasting; this proved a certain
amount of suffering.
Upon arrival at Katariff we were hospitably received by a Greek
merchant, Michel Georgis, a nephew of the good old man from whom
we had received much attention while at Cassala. The town was a
miserable place, composed simply of the usual straw huts of the
Arabs; the market, or "Soog," was bi-weekly. Katariff was also
known by the name of "Soog Abou Sinn."
I extract an entry from my journal.
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