There is no longer mock-turtle soup - REAL
turtle is MOCK HIPPOPOTAMUS.
I tried boiling the fat, flesh, and skin
together, the result being that the skin assumes the appearance of the
green fat of the turtle, but is far superior. A piece of the head thus
boiled, and then soused in vinegar, with chopped onions, cayenne pepper,
and salt, throws brawn completely in the shade. My men having revelled
in a cauldron of hippopotamus soup, I serve out grog at sunset, all
ships being together. Great contentment, all appetites being satisfied.
The labour of towing through swamps, tugging by the long grass, and
poling against a strong current, is dreadful, and there appears to be no
end to this horrible country. "On dit," that during the dry season there
is plenty of game near the river, but at present boundless marshes
devoid of life, except in the shape of mosquitoes, and a very few
water-fowl, are the only charms of the White Nile. The other day I
caught one of the men stealing the salt; Richarn having been aware of
daily thefts of this treasure, and having failed to report them, the
thief received twenty with the coorbatch, and Richarn is reduced to the
ranks, as I anticipated. No possibility of taking observations, as there
is no landing-place. Jan. 17th.-As usual, marshes, mosquitoes, windings,
dead flats, and light winds; the mosquitoes in the cabin give no rest
even during the day. Stream about two miles per hour.
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