Much of the country is in the grip of famine

In the main channels where the water runs clear and deep, settlements of huts are dotted along the banks.

Here the Dinka and Nuer people live with their cattle, their hunting and their fishing - a way of life older even than the ancient Pharoahs from the north.

The war, though, is a modern one.

Its roots are complex, filled with all the angry ambiguities of our age. It is partly a conflict between the Arabised Muslims from the north and the Christian and African traditionalists in the south. It is a heritage of the colonial divisions, and it is also about the oil and other minerals that lie underneath the stark mountains.

Famine

But at the heart of the war is the Nile. Here, in this harsh, dry land of the Sahel, control of the water means survival.

Its seasons of flooding control the traditional cycle of life here, but with the disruption caused by nearly two decades of fighting, hundreds of thousands of people now depend on regular food aid.

But beyond the long queues of the suffering, a way of life survives despite the devastation

In Panthou, a tiny village deep in rebel territory, we tried to find out what was happening in the war and to what extent famine had spread through the area.

On the ground, the heat surrounded us as people came to greet us at the airstrip.

One of the villagers, Akod, was assigned as our guide. He took us to where the bags of food aid had been piled up under a tree.

Village life

Hundreds of people had gathered to receive their portion - they queued for hours in long lines that moved slowly through the heat haze.

The serious cases of hunger and disease are addressed by the Red Cross - the others simply wait.

Panthou is one of those places that lie at the uttermost edge of our knowledge of the world. War and famine is all the outside world knows of places like this.

One of the elders stood up and handed me a small carved stick. It is the symbol of his authority and his giving it to us is an ancient ritual of welcome

But beyond the long queues of the suffering, a way of life survives despite the devastation.

Many of the men carried fishing and hunting spears, while discreetly in the background uniformed rebels carried their Kalashnikovs.

Welcome

In the blazing sun of noon the village elders gathered under an enormous tree.

It stood alone on the flat, parched earth. Its leaves casting a shade as deep and cool as water.

Women and small children joined them and we could hear the sound of laughter and the rhythm of unhurried conversation.

One of the elders stood up and handed me a small carved stick. It is the symbol of his authority and his giving it to us is an ancient ritual of welcome.

In the tiny market place men were selling tamarind seeds, dried fish and hot sweet tea brewed on thorn wood fires.

Two teenage boys were playing with a pet monkey, agile and affectionate as any household cat. Their foreheads were marked with long horizontal scars.

"Each generation has a different pattern," Akod said. "Our grandfathers had six, but now some boys have eight or 10."

Full moon celebration

In the huts around us women began pounding what grain they have to prepare for the evening meal.

As the day cooled and the sun sunk below the horizon, huge-winged storks came to roost on the conical roofs of the huts.

The village paths were filled with a low, contented murmur as people came in from the day's tasks - men who had been tending the cattle and women the dry, meagre fields.

There was the aromatic smell of the wood smoke from the cooking fires drifting up against the sunset.

The stars came out first. Akod pointed to the Milky Way, vast and swirling in the clear, black night. 'We believe it is the boundary that divides the dry season and the rainy season,' he told me.

Then the full moon emerged above the horizon. Slowly at first, and then rapidly, the sound of drums rose from the huts all around us. Akod explained that for three nights around every full moon the people celebrate.

That night, at least, the modern war was far away and an older Africa emerged.

The sand was cool and white in the moonlight. The broad ancient trees were dark, haunting silhouettes in the silver glow.

Deep into the night the drums reverberated and snatches of song drifted over the bush.