<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<p><br/><br/></p>
<h1> IN THE HEART OF AFRICA </h1>
<p><br/></p>
<h2> By Sir Samuel W. Baker, M.A., F.R.G.S. </h2>
<p><br/><br/></p>
<h4>
Condensed By E.J.W From "The Nile Tributaries Of Abyssinia" <br/> And "The
Albert N'yanza Great Basin Of The Nile."
</h4>
<p><br/></p>
<hr />
<p><br/></p>
<blockquote>
<p><big><b>CONTENTS</b></big></p>
<p><br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2H_TOC"> DETAILED CONTENTS. </SPAN></p>
<p><br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>IN THE HEART OF AFRICA.</b> </SPAN></p>
<p><br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </SPAN></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </SPAN></p>
</blockquote>
<p><SPAN name="link2H_TOC" id="link2H_TOC"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CONTENTS. </h2>
<blockquote>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER I. <br/> The Nubian desert—The bitter well—Change of
plans—An irascible <br/> dragoman—Pools of the Atbara—One
secret of the Nile—At Cassala <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER II. <br/> Egypt's rule of the Soudan—Corn-grinding in the
Soudan—Mahomet meets <br/> relatives—The parent of Egypt—El
Baggar rides the camel <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER III. <br/> The Arabs' exodus—Reception by Abou Sinn—Arabs
dressing the <br/> hair—Toilet of an Arab woman—The plague
of lice—Wives among the <br/> Arabs—The Old Testament
confirmed <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER IV. <br/> On the Abyssinian border—A new school of
medicine—Sacred shrines and <br/> epidemics <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER V. <br/> A primitive craft—Stalking the giraffes—My
first <br/> giraffes-Rare sport with the finny tribe—Thieving
elephants <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER VI. <br/> Preparations for advance—Mek Nimmur makes a
foray—The <br/> Hamran elephant-hunters—In the haunts of the
elephant—A desperate <br/> charge <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER VII. <br/> The start from Geera—Feats of horsemanship—A
curious chase—Abou Do <br/> wins a race—Capturing a young
buffalo—Our island camp—Tales of the <br/> Base <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER VIII. <br/> The elephant trumpets—Fighting an elephant
with swords—The <br/> forehead-shot—Elephants in a panic—A
superb old Neptune—The harpoon <br/> reaches its aim—Death
of the hippopotamus—Tramped by an elephant <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER IX. <br/> Fright of the Tokrooris—Deserters who didn't
desert—Arrival of <br/> the Sherrif brothers—Now for a
tally-ho!—On the heels of the <br/> rhinoceroses—The
Abyssinian rhinoceros—Every man for himself <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER X. <br/> A day with the howartis—A hippo's gallant fight—Abou
Do leaves <br/> us—Three yards from a lion—Days of delight—A
lion's furious <br/> rage—Astounding courage of a horse <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XI. <br/> The bull-elephant—Daring Hamrans—The
elephant <br/> helpless—Visited by a minstrel—A determined
musician—The nest of the <br/> outlaws—The Atbara River
<br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XII. <br/> Abyssinian slave-girls—Khartoum—The
Soudan under Egyptian <br/> rule—Slave-trade in the Soudan—The
obstacles ahead <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XIII. <br/> Gondokoro—A mutiny quelled—Arrival of
Speke and Grant—The sources of <br/> the Nile-Arab duplicity—The
boy-slave's story—Saat adopted <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XIV. <br/> Startling disclosures—The last hope seems gone—The
Bari chief's <br/> advice—Hoping for the best—Ho for Central
Africa! <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XV. <br/> A start made at last—A forced march—Lightening
the ship—Waiting <br/> for the caravan—Success hangs in the
balance—The greatest rascal in <br/> Central Africa—Legge
demands another bottle <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XVI. <br/> The greeting of the slave-traders—Collapse of
the <br/> mutiny—African funerals-Visit from the Latooka chief—Bokke
makes a <br/> suggestion—Slaughter of the Turks—Success as a
prophet—Commoro's <br/> philosophy <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XVII. <br/> Disease in the camp—Forward under difficulties—Our
cup of <br/> misery overflows—A rain-maker in a dilemma-Fever
again—Ibrahim's <br/> quandary-Firing the prairie <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XVIII. <br/> Greeting from Kamrasi's people—Suffering from
the sins of others-Alone <br/> among savages—The free-masonry of
Unyoro.—Pottery and civilization <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XIX. <br/> Kamrasi's cowardice—Interview with the king—The
exchange of blood—The <br/> rod beggar's last chance—An
astounded sovereign <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XX. <br/> A satanic escort—Prostrated by sun-stroke—Days
and nights of <br/> sorrow—The reward for all our labor <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XXI. <br/> The cradle of the Nile—Arrival at Magungo—The
blind leading the <br/> blind—Murchison Falls <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </SPAN></p>
<p>CHAPTER XXII. <br/> Prisoners on the island—Left to starve—Months
of helpless-ness—We <br/> rejoin the Turks—The real Kamrasi—In
the presence of royalty <br/></p>
<p><SPAN href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </SPAN></p>
<p>The hour of deliverance—Triumphal entry into Gondokoro—Homeward
<br/> bound—The plague breaks out—Our welcome at Khartoum—Return
to <br/> civilization <br/></p>
</blockquote>
<p><br/></p>
<hr />
<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h1> IN THE HEART OF AFRICA. </h1>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER I. </h2>
<p>The Nubian desert—The bitter well—Change of plans—An
irascible dragoman—Pools of the Atbara—One secret of the Nile—At
Cassala.</p>
<p>In March, 1861, I commenced an expedition to discover the sources of the
Nile, with the hope of meeting the East African expedition of Captains
Speke and Grant, that had been sent by the English Government from the
South via Zanzibar, for the same object. I had not the presumption to
publish my intention, as the sources of the Nile had hitherto defied all
explorers, but I had inwardly determined to accomplish this difficult task
or to die in the attempt. From my youth I had been inured to hardships and
endurance in wild sports in tropical climates, and when I gazed upon the
map of Africa I had a wild hope, mingled with humility, that, even as the
insignificant worm bores through the hardest oak, I might by perseverance
reach the heart of Africa.</p>
<p>I could not conceive that anything in this world has power to resist a
determined will, so long as health and life remain. The failure of every
former attempt to reach the Nile source did not astonish me, as the
expeditions had consisted of parties, which, when difficulties occur,
generally end in difference of opinion and in retreat; I therefore
determined to proceed alone, trusting in the guidance of a Divine
Providence and the good fortune that sometimes attends a tenacity of
purpose. I weighed carefully the chances of the undertaking. Before me,
untrodden Africa; against me, the obstacles that had defeated the world
since its creation; on my side, a somewhat tough constitution, perfect
independence, a long experience in savage life, and both time and means,
which I intended to devote to the object without limit.</p>
<p>England had never sent an expedition to the Nile sources previous to that
under the command of Speke and Grant. Bruce, ninety years before, had
succeeded in tracing the source of the Blue or Lesser Nile; thus the honor
of that discovery belonged to Great Britain. Speke was on his road from
the South, and I felt confident that my gallant friend would leave his
bones upon the path rather than submit to failure. I trusted that England
would not be beaten, and although I hardly dared to hope that I could
succeed where others greater than I had failed, I determined to sacrifice
all in the attempt.</p>
<p>Had I been alone, it would have been no hard lot to die upon the untrodden
path before me; but there was one who, although my greatest comfort, was
also my greatest care, one whose life yet dawned at so early an age that
womanhood was still a future. I shuddered at the prospect for her, should
she be left alone in savage lands at my death; and gladly would I have
left her in the luxuries of home instead of exposing her to the miseries
of Africa. It was in vain that I implored her to remain, and that I
painted the difficulties and perils still blacker than I supposed they
really would be. She was resolved, with woman's constancy and devotion, to
share all dangers and to follow me through each rough footstep of the wild
life before me. "And Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return
from following after thee; for whither thou goest I will go, and where
thou lodgest I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my
God; where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do
so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me."</p>
<p>Thus accompanied by my wife, on the 15th of April, 1861, I sailed up the
Nile from Cairo. The wind blew fair and strong from the north, and we flew
toward the south against the stream, watching those mysterious waters with
a firm resolve to track them to their distant fountain.</p>
<p>I had a firman from the Viceroy, a cook, and a dragoman. Thus my
impedimenta were not numerous. The firman was an order to all Egyptian
officials for assistance; the cook was dirty and incapable; and the
interpreter was nearly ignorant of English, although a professed polyglot.
With this small beginning, Africa was before me, and thus I commenced the
search for the sources of the Nile.</p>
<p>On arrival at Korosko, twenty-six days from Cairo, we started across the
Nubian Desert. During the cool months, from November until February, the
desert journey is not disagreeable; but the vast area of glowing sand
exposed to the scorching sun of summer, in addition to the withering
breath of the simoom, renders the forced march of two hundred and thirty
miles in seven days, at two and a half miles per hour, one of the most
fatiguing journeys that can be endured.</p>
<p>We entered a dead level plain of orange-colored sand, surrounded by
pyramidical hills. The surface was strewn with objects resembling cannon
shot and grape of all sizes from a 32-pounder downward, and looked like
the old battle-field of some infernal region—rocks glowing with
heat, not a vestige of vegetation, barren, withering desolation. The slow
rocking step of the camels was most irksome, and, despite the heat, I
dismounted to examine the Satanic bombs and cannon shot. Many of them were
as perfectly round as though cast in a mould, others were egg-shaped, and
all were hollow. With some difficulty I broke them, and found them to
contain a bright red sand. They were, in fact, volcanic bombs that had
been formed by the ejection of molten lava to a great height from active
volcanoes; these had become globular in falling, and, having cooled before
they reached the earth, they retained their forms as hard spherical
bodies, precisely resembling cannon shot. The exterior was brown, and
appeared to be rich in iron. The smaller specimens were the more perfect
spheres, as they cooled quickly; but many of the heavier masses had
evidently reached the earth when only half solidified, and had collapsed
upon falling. The sandy plain was covered with such vestiges of volcanic
action, and the infernal bombs lay as imperishable relics of a hailstorm
such as may have destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah.</p>
<p>Passing through this wretched solitude, we entered upon a scene of
surpassing desolation. Far as the eye could reach were waves like a stormy
sea, gray, coldlooking waves in the burning heat; but no drop of water. It
appeared as though a sudden curse had turned a raging sea to stone. The
simoom blew over this horrible wilderness, and drifted the hot sand into
the crevices of the rocks, and the camels drooped their heads before the
suffocating wind; but still the caravan noiselessly crept along over the
rocky undulations, until the stormy sea was passed; once more we were upon
a boundless plain of sand and pebbles.</p>
<p>In forty-six hours and forty-five minutes' actual marching from Korosko,
we reached Moorahd, "the bitter well." This is a mournful spot, well known
to the tired and thirsty camel, the hope of reaching which has urged him
fainting on his weary way to drink one draught before he dies. This is the
camel's grave. Situated half way between Korosko and Abou Hammed, the well
of Moorahd is in an extinct crater, surrounded upon all sides but one by
precipitous cliffs about three hundred feet high. The bottom is a dead
flat, and forms a valley of sand about two hundred and fifty yards wide.
In this bosom of a crater, salt and bitter water is found at a depth of
only six feet from the surface. To this our tired camels frantically
rushed upon being unloaded.</p>
<p>The valley was a "valley of dry bones." Innumerable skeletons of camels
lay in all directions-the ships of the desert thus stranded on their
voyage. Withered heaps of parched skin and bone lay here and there, in the
distinct forms in which the camels had gasped their last. The dry desert
air had converted the hide into a coffin. There were no flies here, thus
there were no worms to devour the carcasses; but the usual sextons were
the crows, although sometimes too few to perform their office. These were
perched upon the overhanging cliffs; but no sooner had our overworked
camels taken their long draught and lain down exhausted on the sand, than
by common consent they descended from their high places and walked round
and round each tired beast.</p>
<p>As many wretched animals simply crawl to this spot to die, the crows, from
long experience and constant practice, can form a pretty correct diagnosis
upon the case of a sick camel. They had evidently paid a professional
visit to my caravan, and were especially attentive in studying the case of
one particular camel that was in a very weakly condition and had stretched
itself full length upon the sand; nor would they leave it until it was
driven forward.</p>
<p>Many years ago, when the Egyptian troops first conquered Nubia, a regiment
was destroyed by thirst in crossing this desert. The men, being upon a
limited allowance of water, suffered from extreme thirst, and deceived by
the appearance of a mirage that exactly resembled a beautiful lake, they
insisted on being taken to its banks by the Arab guide. It was in vain
that the guide assured them that the lake was unreal, and he refused to
lose the precious time by wandering from his course. Words led to blows,
and he was killed by the soldiers, whose lives depended upon his guidance.
The whole regiment turned from the track and rushed toward the welcome
waters. Thirsty and faint, over the burning sands they hurried; heavier
and heavier their footsteps became; hotter and hotter their breath, as
deeper they pushed into the desert, farther and farther from the lost
track where the pilot lay in his blood; and still the mocking spirits of
the desert, the afreets of the mirage, led them on, and the hike
glistening in the sunshine tempted them to bathe in its cool waters, close
to their eyes, but never at their lips. At length the delusion vanished—the
fatal lake had turned to burning sand! Raging thirst and horrible despair!
the pathless desert and the murdered guide! lost! lost! all lost! Not a
man ever left the desert, but they were subsequently discovered, parched
and withered corpses, by the Arabs sent upon the search.</p>
<p>During our march the simoom was fearful, and the heat so intense that it
was impossible to draw the guncases out of their leather covers, which it
was necessary to cut open. All woodwork was warped; ivory knife-handles
were split; paper broke when crunched in the hand, and the very marrow
seemed to be dried out of the bones. The extreme dryness of the air
induced an extraordinary amount of electricity in the hair and in all
woollen materials. A Scotch plaid laid upon a blanket for a few hours
adhered to it, and upon being withdrawn at night a sheet of flame was
produced, accompanied by tolerably loud reports.</p>
<p>We reached Berber on May 31st, and spent a week in resting after our
formidable desert march of fifteen days. From the slight experience I had
gained in the journey, I felt convinced that success in my Nile expedition
would be impossible without a knowledge of Arabic. My dragoman had me
completely in his power, and I resolved to become independent of all
interpreters as soon as possible. I therefore arranged a plan of
exploration for the first year, to embrace the affluents to the Nile from
the Abyssinian range of mountains, intending to follow up the Atbara River
from its junction with the Nile in latitude 17 deg. 37 min. (twenty miles
south of Berber), and to examine all the Nile tributaries from the
southeast as far as the Blue Nile, which river I hoped ultimately to
descend to Khartoum. I imagined that twelve months would be sufficient to
complete such an exploration, by which time I should have gained a
sufficient knowledge of the Arabic to render me able to converse fairly
well.</p>
<p>The wind at this season (June) was changeable, and strong blasts from the
south were the harbingers of the approaching rainy season. We had no time
to lose, and we accordingly arranged to start. I discharged my dirty cook,
and engaged a man who was brought by a coffeehouse keeper, by whom he was
highly recommended; but, as a precaution against deception, I led him
before the Mudir, or Governor, to be registered before our departure. To
my astonishment, and to his infinite disgust, he was immediately
recognized as an old offender, who had formerly been imprisoned for theft!
The Governor, to prove his friendship and his interest in my welfare,
immediately sent the police to capture the coffee-house keeper who had
recommended the cook. No sooner was the unlucky surety brought to the
Divan than he was condemned to receive two hundred lashes for having given
a false character. The sentence was literally carried out, in spite of my
remonstrance, and the police were ordered to make the case public to
prevent a recurrence. The Governor assured me that, as I held a firman
from the Viceroy, he could not do otherwise, and that I must believe him
to be my truest friend. "Save me from my friends," was an adage quickly
proved. I could not procure a cook nor any other attendant, as every one
was afraid to guarantee a character, lest he might come in for his share
of the two hundred lashes!</p>
<p>The Governor came to my rescue, and sent immediately the promised Turkish
soldiers, who were to act in the double capacity of escort and servants.
They were men of totally opposite characters. Hadji Achmet was a hardy,
powerful, dare-devil-looking Turk, while Hadji Velli was the perfection of
politeness, and as gentle as a lamb. My new allies procured me three
donkeys in addition to the necessary baggage camels, and we started from
Berber on the evening of the 10th of June for the junction of the Atbara
River With the Nile.</p>
<p>Mahomet, Achmet, and Ali are equivalent to Smith, Brown, and Thompson.
Accordingly, of my few attendants, my dragoman was Mahomet, and my
principal guide was Achmet, and subsequently I had a number of Alis.
Mahomet was a regular Cairo dragoman, a native of Dongola, almost black,
but exceedingly tenacious regarding his shade of color, which he declared
to be light brown. He spoke very bad English, was excessively conceited,
and irascible to a degree. He was one of those dragomans who are
accustomed to the civilized expeditions of the British tourist to the
first or second cataract, in a Nile boat replete with conveniences and
luxuries, upon which the dragoman is monarch supreme, a whale among the
minnows, who rules the vessel, purchases daily a host of unnecessary
supplies, upon which he clears his profit, until he returns to Cairo with
his pockets filled sufficiently to support him until the following Nile
season. The short three months' harvest, from November until February,
fills his granary for the year. Under such circumstances the temper should
be angelic.</p>
<p>But times had changed. To Mahomet the very idea of exploration was an
absurdity. He had never believed in it front the first, and he now became
impressed with the fact that he was positively committed to an undertaking
that would end most likely in his death, if not in terrible difficulties;
he determined, under the circumstances, to make himself as disagreeable as
possible to all parties. With this amiable resolution he adopted a
physical infirmity in the shape of deafness. In reality, no one was more
acute in hearing, but as there are no bells where there are no houses, he
of course could not answer such a summons, and he was compelled to attend
to the call of his own name—"Mahomet! Mahomet!" No reply, although
the individual were sitting within a few feet, apparently absorbed in the
contemplation of his own boots. "MaHOMet!" with an additional emphasis
upon the second syllable. Again no response. "Mahomet, you rascal, why
don't you answer?" This energetic address would effect a change in his
position. The mild and lamb-like dragoman of Cairo would suddenly start
from the ground, tear his own hair from his head in handfuls, and shout,
"Mahomet! Mahomet! Mahomet! always Mahomet! D—n Mahomet! I wish he
were dead, or back in Cairo, this brute Mahomet!" The irascible dragoman
would then beat his own head unmercifully with his fists, in a paroxysm of
rage.</p>
<p>To comfort him I could only exclaim, "Well done, Mahomet! thrash him;
pommel him well; punch his head; you know him best; he deserves it; don't
spare him!" This advice, acting upon the natural perversity of his
disposition, generally soothed him, and he ceased punching his head. This
man was entirely out of his place, if not out of his mind, at certain
moments, and having upon one occasion smashed a basin by throwing it in
the face of the cook, and upon another occasion narrowly escaped homicide
by throwing an axe at a man's head, which missed by an inch, he became a
notorious character in the little expedition.</p>
<p>We left Berber in the evening, and about two hours after sunset of the
following day reached the junction of the Nile and Atbara. The latter
presented a curious appearance. In no place was it less than four hundred
yards in width, and in many places much wider. The banks were from
twenty-five to thirty feet deep, and had evidently been overflowed during
floods; but now the river bed was dry sand, so glaring that the sun's
reflection was almost intolerable. The only shade was afforded by the
evergreen dome palms; nevertheless the Arabs occupied the banks at
intervals of three or four miles, wherever a pool of water in some deep
bend of the dried river's bed offered an attraction. In such places were
Arab villages or camps, of the usual mat tents formed of the dome-palm
leaves.</p>
<p>Many pools were of considerable size and of great depth. In flood-time a
tremendous torrent sweeps down the course of the Atbara, and the sudden
bends of the river are hollowed out by the force of the stream to a depth
of twenty or thirty feet below the level of the bed. Accordingly these
holes become reservoirs of water when the river is otherwise exhausted. In
such asylums all the usual inhabitants of this large river are crowded
together in a comparatively narrow space. Although these pools vary in
size, from only a few hundred yards to a mile in length, they are
positively full of life; huge fish, crocodiles of immense size, turtles,
and occasionally hippopotami, consort together in close and unwished-for
proximity. The animals of the desert—gazelles, hyenas, and wild
asses—are compelled to resort to these crowded drinking-places,
occupied by the flocks of the Arabs equally with the timid beasts of the
chase. The birds that during the cooler months would wander free
throughout the country are now collected in vast numbers along the margin
of the exhausted river; innumerable doves, varying in species, throng the
trees and seek the shade of the dome-palms; thousands of desert grouse
arrive morning and evening to drink and to depart; while birds in
multitudes, of lovely plumage, escape from the burning desert and colonize
the poor but welcome bushes that fringe the Atbara River.</p>
<p>After several days' journey along the bank of the Atbara we halted at a
spot called Collodabad, about one hundred and sixty miles from the Nile
junction. A sharp bend of the river had left a deep pool about a mile in
length, and here a number of Arabs were congregated, with their flocks and
herds.</p>
<p>On the evening of June 23d I was lying half asleep upon my bed by the
margin of the river, when I fancied that I heard a rumbling like distant
thunder. I had not heard such a sound for months, but a low, uninterrupted
roll appeared to increase in volume, although far distant. Hardly had I
raised my head to listen more attentively when a confusion of voices arose
from the Arabs' camp, with a sound of many feet, and in a few minutes they
rushed into my camp, shouting to my men in the darkness, "El Bahr! El
Bahr!" (the river! the river!)</p>
<p>We were up in an instant, and my interpreter, Mahomet, in a state of
intense confusion, explained that the river was coming down, and that the
supposed distant thunder was the roar of approaching water.</p>
<p>Many of the people were asleep on the clean sand on the river's bed; these
were quickly awakened by the Arabs, who rushed down the steep bank to save
the skulls of two hippopotami that were exposed to dry. Hardly had they
descended when the sound of the river in the darkness beneath told us that
the water had arrived, and the men, dripping with wet, had just sufficient
time to drag their heavy burdens up the bank.</p>
<p>All was darkness and confusion, everybody talking and no one listening;
but the great event had occurred; the river had arrived "like a thief in
the night". On the morning of the 24th of June, I stood on the banks of
the noble Atbara River at the break of day. The wonder of the desert!
Yesterday there was a barren sheet of glaring sand, with a fringe of
withered bushes and trees upon its borders, that cut the yellow expanse of
desert. For days we had journeyed along the exhausted bed; all Nature,
even in Nature's poverty, was most poor: no bush could boast a leaf, no
tree could throw a shade, crisp gums crackled upon the stems of the
mimosas, the sap dried upon the burst bark, sprung with the withering heat
of the simoom. In one night there was a mysterious change. Wonders of the
mighty Nile! An army of water was hastening to the wasted river. There was
no drop of rain, no thunder-cloud on the horizon to give hope. All had
been dry and sultry, dust and desolation yesterday; to-day a magnificent
stream, some five hundred yards in width and from fifteen to twenty feet
in depth, flowed through the dreary desert! Bamboos and reeds, with trash
of all kinds, were hurried along the muddy waters. Where were all the
crowded inhabitants of the pool? The prison doors were broken, the
prisoners were released, and rejoiced in the mighty stream of the Atbara.</p>
<p>The 24th of June, 1861, was a memorable day. Although this was actually
the beginning of my work, I felt that by the experience of this night I
had obtained a clew to one portion of the Nile mystery, and that, as
"coming events cast their shadows before," this sudden creation of a river
was but the shadow of the great cause. The rains were pouring in
Abyssinia! THESE WERE SOURCES OF THE NILE!</p>
<p>The journey along the margin of the Atbara was similar to the route from
Berber, through a vast desert, with a narrow band of trees that marked the
course of the river. The only change was the magical growth of the leaves,
which burst hourly from the swollen buds of the mimosas. This could be
accounted for by the sudden arrival of the river, as the water percolated
rapidly through the sand and nourished the famishing roots.</p>
<p>At Gozerajup, two hundred and forty-six miles from Berber, our route was
changed. We had hitherto followed the course of the Atbara, but we were
now to leave that river on our right, while we travelled about ninety
miles south-east to Cassala, the capital of the Taka country, on the
confines of Abyssinia, and the great depot for Egyptian troops.</p>
<p>The entire country from Gozerajup to Cassala is a dead flat, upon which
there is not one tree sufficiently large to shade a full-sized tent. There
is no real timber in the country; but the vast level extent of soil is a
series of open plains and low bush of thorny mimosa. There is no drainage
upon this perfect level; thus, during the rainy season, the soakage
actually melts the soil, and forms deep holes throughout the country,
which then becomes an impenetrable slough, bearing grass and jungle. No
sooner had we arrived in the flooded country than my wife was seized with
a sudden and severe fever, which necessitated a halt upon the march, as
she could no longer sit upon her camel. In the evening several hundreds of
Arabs arrived and encamped around our fire. It was shortly after sunset,
and it was interesting to watch the extreme rapidity with which these
swarthy sons of the desert pitched their camp. A hundred fires were
quickly blazing; the women prepared the food, and children sat in clusters
around the blaze, as all were wet from paddling through the puddled ground
from which they were retreating.</p>
<p>No sooner was the bustle of arrangement completed than a gray old man
stepped forward, and, responding to his call, every man of the hundreds
present formed in line, three or four deep. At once there was total
silence, disturbed only by the crackling of the fires or by the cry of a
child; and with faces turned to the east, in attitudes of profound
devotion, the wild but fervent followers of Mahomet repeated their evening
prayer. The flickering red light of the fires illumined the bronze faces
of the congregation, and as I stood before the front line of devotees, I
tools off my cap in respect for their faith, and at the close of their
prayer made my salaam to their venerable Faky (priest); he returned the
salutation with the cold dignity of an Arab.</p>
<p>On the next day my wife's fever was renewed, but she was placed on a
dromedary and we reached Cassala about sunset. The place is rich in
hyenas, and the night was passed in the discordant howling of these
disgusting but useful animals. They are the scavengers of the country,
devouring every species of filth and clearing all carrion from the earth.
Without the hyenas and vultures the neighborhood of a Nubian village would
be unbearable. It is the idle custom of the people to leave unburied all
animals that die; thus, among the numerous flocks and herds, the
casualties would create a pestilence were it not for the birds and beasts
of prey.</p>
<p>On the following morning the fever had yielded to quinine, and we were
enabled to receive a round of visits—the governor and suite, Elias
Bey, the doctor and a friend, and, lastly, Malem Georgis, an elderly Greek
merchant, who, with great hospitality, insisted upon our quitting the
sultry tent and sharing his own roof. We therefore became his guests in a
most comfortable house for some days. Here we discharged our camels, as
our Turk, Hadji Achmet's, service ended at this point, and proceeded to
start afresh for the Nile tributaries of Abyssinia.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER II. </h2>
<p>Egypt's rule of the Soudan—Corn-grinding in the Soudan—Mahomet
meets relatives—The parent of Egypt—El Baggar rides the camel.</p>
<p>Cassala was built about twenty years before I visited the country, after
Taka had been conquered and annexed to Egypt. The general annexation of
the Soudan and the submission of the numerous Arab tribes to the Viceroy
have been the first steps necessary to the improvement of the country.
Although the Egyptians are hard masters, and do not trouble themselves
about the future well-being of the conquered races, it must be remembered
that, prior to the annexation, all the tribes were at war among
themselves. There was neither government nor law; thus the whole country
was closed to Europeans. At the time of my visit to Cassala in 1861 the
Arab tribes were separately governed by their own chiefs or sheiks, who
were responsible to the Egyptian authorities for the taxes due from their
people. Since that period the entire tribes of all denominations have been
placed under the authority of that grand old Arab patriarch, Achmet Abou
Sinn, to be hereafter mentioned. The iron hand of despotism has produced a
marvellous change among the Arabs, who are rendered utterly powerless by
the system of government adopted by the Egyptians; unfortunately, this
harsh system has the effect of paralyzing all industry.</p>
<p>The principal object of Turks and Egyptians in annexation is to increase
their power of taxation by gaining an additional number of subjects. Thus,
although many advantages have accrued to the Arab provinces of Nubia
through Egyptian rule, there exists very much mistrust between the
governed and the governing. Not only are the camels, cattle, and sheep
subjected to a tax, but every attempt at cultivation is thwarted by the
authorities, who impose a fine or tax upon the superficial area of the
cultivated land. Thus, no one will cultivate more than is absolutely
necessary, as he dreads the difficulties that broad acres of waving crops
would entail upon his family. The bona fide tax is a bagatelle to the
amounts squeezed from him by the extortionate soldiery, who are the agents
employed by the sheik; these must have their share of the plunder, in
excess of the amount to be delivered to their employer; he also must have
his plunder before he parts with the bags of dollars to the governor of
the province. Thus the unfortunate cultivator is ground down. Should he
refuse to pay the necessary "backsheesh" or present to the tax-collectors,
some false charge is trumped up against him, and he is thrown into prison.
As a green field is an attraction to a flight of locusts in their
desolating voyage, so is a luxuriant farm in the Soudan a point for the
tax-collectors of Upper Egypt. I have frequently ridden several days'
journey through a succession of empty villages, deserted by the
inhabitants upon the report of the soldiers' approach. The women and
children, goats and cattle, camels and asses, had all been removed into
the wilderness for refuge, while their crops of corn had been left
standing for the plunderers, who would be too idle to reap and thrash the
grain.</p>
<p>Notwithstanding the miserable that fetters the steps of improvement,
Nature has bestowed such great capabilities of production in the fertile
soil of this country that the yield of a small surface is more than
sufficient for the requirements of the population, and actual poverty is
unknown. The average price of dhurra is fifteen piastres per "rachel," or
about 3s. 2d. for five hundred pounds upon the spot where it is grown. The
dhurra (Sorghum andropogon) is the grain most commonly used throughout the
Soudan; there are great varieties of this plant, of which the most common
are the white and the red. The land is not only favored by Nature by its
fertility, but the intense heat of the summer is the laborer's great
assistant. As before described, all vegetation entirely disappears in the
glaring sun, or becomes so dry that it is swept off by fire; thus the soil
is perfectly clean and fit for immediate cultivation upon the arrival of
the rains.</p>
<p>The tool generally used is similar to the Dutch hoe. With this simple
implement the surface is scratched to the depth of about two inches, and
the seeds of the dhurra are dibbled in about three feet apart, in rows
from four to five feet in width. Two seeds are dropped into each hole. A
few days after the first shower they rise above the ground, and when about
six inches high the whole population turn out of their villages at break
of day to weed the dhurra fields. Sown in July, it is harvested in
February and March. Eight months are thus required for the cultivation of
this cereal in the intense heat of Nubia. For the first three months the
growth is extremely rapid, and the stem attains a height of six or seven
feet. When at perfection in the rich soil of the Taka country, the plant
averages a height of ten feet, the circumference of the stem being about
four inches. The crown is a feather very similar to that of the
sugar-cane; the blossom falls, and the feather becomes a head of dhurra,
weighing about two pounds. Each grain is about the size of hemp-seed. I
took the trouble of counting the corns contained in an average-sized head,
the result being 4,848. The process of harvesting and threshing is
remarkably simple, as the heads are simply detached from the straw and
beaten out in piles. The dried straw is a substitute for sticks in forming
the walls of the village huts; these are plastered with clay and cow-dung,
which form the Arab's lath and plaster.</p>
<p>The millers' work is exclusively the province of the women. No man will
condescend to grind the corn. There are no circular hand-mills, as among
Oriental nations; but the corn is ground upon a simple flat stone, of
cithor gneiss or granite, about two feet in length by fourteen inches in
width. The face of this is roughened by beating with a sharp-pointed piece
of harder stone, such as quartz or hornblende, and the grain is reduced to
flour by great labor and repeated grinding or rubbing with a stone
rolling-pin. The flour is mixed with water and allowed to ferment; it is
then made into thin pancakes upon an earthenware flat portable hearth.
This species of leavened bread is known to the Arabs as the kisra. It is
not very palatable, but it is extremely well suited to Arab cookery, as it
can be rolled up like a pancake and dipped in the general dish of meat and
gravy very conveniently, in the absence of spoons and forks.</p>
<p>On the 14th of July I had concluded my arrangements for the start. There
had been some difficulty in procuring camels, but the all-powerful firman
was a never-failing talisman, and as the Arabs had declined to let their
animals for hire, the Governor despatched a number of soldiers and seized
the required number, including their owners. I engaged two wild young
Arabs of eighteen and twenty years of age, named Bacheet and Wat Gamma.
The latter, being interpreted, signifies "Son of the Moon." This in no way
suggests lunacy; but the young Arab had happened to enter this world on
the day of the new moon, which was considered to be a particularly
fortunate and brilliant omen at his birth. Whether the climax of his good
fortune had arrived at the moment he entered my service I know not; but,
if so, there was a cloud over his happiness in his subjection to Mahomet,
the dragoman, who rejoiced in the opportunity of bullying the two
inferiors. Wat Gamma was a quiet, steady, well-conducted lad, who bore
oppression mildly; but the younger, Bucheet, was a fiery, wild young Arab,
who, although an excellent boy in his peculiar way, was almost incapable
of being tamed and domesticated. I at once perceived that Mahomet would
have a determined rebel to control, which I confess I did not regret.
Wages were not high in this part of the world—the lads were engaged
at one and a half dollars per month and their keep.</p>
<p>Mahomet, who was a great man, suffered from the same complaint to which
great men are (in those countries) particularly subject. Wherever he went
he was attacked with claimants of relationship. He was overwhelmed with
professions of friendship from people who claimed to be connections of
some of his family. In fact, if all the ramifications of his race were
correctly represented by the claimants of relationship, Mahomet's family
tree would have shaded the Nubian desert</p>
<p>We all have our foibles. The strongest fort has its feeble point, as the
chain snaps at its weakest link. Family pride was Mahomet's weak link.
This was his tender point; and Mahomet, the great and the imperious,
yielded to the gentle scratching of his ear if a stranger claimed
connection with his ancient lineage. Of course he had no family, with the
exception of his wife and two children, whom he had left in Cairo. The
lady whom he had honored by admission into the domestic circle of the
Mahomets was suffering from a broken arm when we started from Egypt, as
she had cooked the dinner badly, and the "gaddah," or large wooden bowl,
had been thrown at her by the naturally indignant husband, precisely as he
had thrown the axe at one man and the basin at another while in our
service. These were little contretemps that could hardly disturb the
dignity of so great a man.</p>
<p>Mahomet met several relatives at Cassala. One borrowed money of him;
another stole his pipe; the third, who declared that nothing should
separate them now that "by the blessing of God" they had met, determined
to accompany him through all the difficulties of our expedition, provided
that Mahomet would only permit him to serve for love, without wages. I
gave Mahomet some little advice upon this point, reminding him that,
although the clothes of the party were only worth a few piastres, the
spoons and forks were silver; therefore I should hold him responsible for
the honesty of his friend. This reflection upon the family gave great
offence, and he assured me that Achmet, our quondam acquaintance, was so
near a relative that he was—I assisted him in the genealogical
distinction: "Mother's brother's cousin's sister's mother's son? Eh,
Mahomet?"</p>
<p>"Yes, sar, that's it!" "Very well, Mahomet; mind he doesn't steal the
spoons, and thrash him if he doesn't do his work!" "Yes, sar", replied
Mahomet; "he all same like one brother; he one good man; will do his
business quietly; if not, master lick him." The new relative not
understanding English, was perfectly satisfied with the success of his
introduction, and from that moment he became one of the party.</p>
<p>One more addition, and our arrangements were completed: the Governor of
Cassala was determined we should not start without a soldier guide to
represent the government. Accordingly he gave us a black corporal, so
renowned as a sportsman that he went by the name of "El Baggar" (the cow),
because of his having killed several of the oryx antelope, known as "El
Baggar et Wabash" (cow of the desert).</p>
<p>After sixteen hours' actual marching from Cassala we arrived at the valley
of the Atbara. There was an extraordinary change in the appearance of the
river between Gozerajup and this spot. There was no longer the vast sandy
desert with the river flowing through its sterile course on a level with
the surface of the country; but after traversing an apparently perfect
flat of forty-five miles of rich alluvial soil, we had suddenly arrived
upon the edge of a deep valley, between five and six miles wide, at the
bottom of which, about two hundred feet below the general level of the
country, flowed the river Atbara. On the opposite side of the valley the
same vast table-lands continued to the western horizon.</p>
<p>We commenced the descent toward the river: the valley was a succession of
gullies and ravines, of landslips and watercourses. The entire hollow, of
miles in width, had evidently been the work of the river. How many ages
had the rains and the stream been at work to scoop out from the flat
tableland this deep and broad valley? Here was the giant laborer that had
shovelled the rich loam upon the delta of Lower Egypt! Upon these vast
flats of fertile soil there can be no drainage except through soakage. The
deep valley is therefore the receptacle not only for the water that oozes
from its sides, but subterranean channels, bursting as land-springs from
all parts of the walls of the valley, wash down the more soluble portions
of earth, and continually waste away the soil. Landslips occur daily
during the rainy season; streams of rich mud pour down the valley's
slopes, and as the river flows beneath in a swollen torrent, the friable
banks topple down into the stream and dissolve. The Atbara becomes the
thickness of peasoup, as its muddy waters steadily perform the duty they
have fulfilled from age to age. Thus was the great river at work upon our
arrival on its bank at the bottom of the valley. The Arab name, "Bahr el
Aswat" (black river) was well bestowed; it was the black mother of Egypt,
still carrying to her offspring the nourishment that had first formed the
Delta.</p>
<p>At this point of interest the journey had commenced; the deserts were
passed; all was fertility and life. Wherever the sources of the Nile might
be, the Atbara was the parent of Egypt! This was my first impression, to
be proved hereafter.</p>
<p>A violent thunderstorm, with a deluge of rain, broke upon our camp on the
banks of the Atbara, fortunately just after the tents were pitched. We
thus had an example of the extraordinary effects of the heavy rain in
tearing away the soil of the valley. Trifling watercourses were swollen to
torrents. Banks of earth became loosened and fell in, and the rush of mud
and water upon all sides swept forward into the river with a rapidity
which threatened the destruction of the country, could such a tempest
endure for a few days. In a couple of hours all was over.</p>
<p>In the evening we crossed with our baggage and people to the opposite side
of the ricer, and pitched our tents at the village of Goorashee. In the
morning the camels arrived, and once more we were ready to start. Our
factotum, El Baggar, had collected a number of baggage-camels and riding
dromedaries, or "hygeens". The latter he had brought for approval, as we
bad suffered much from the extreme roughness of our late camels. There is
the same difference between a good hygeen, or dromedary, and a
baggage-camel, as between the thoroughbred and the cart-horse; and it
appears absurd in the eyes of the Arabs that a man of any position should
ride a baggage-camel. Apart from all ideas of etiquette, the motion of the
latter animal is quite sufficient warning. Of all species of fatigue, the
back-breaking, monotonous swing of a heavy camel is the worst; and should
the rider lose patience and administer a sharp cut with the coorbatch,
that induces the creature to break into a trot, the torture of the rack is
a pleasant tickling compared to the sensation of having your spine driven
by a sledge-hammer from below, half a foot deeper into the skull.</p>
<p>The human frame may be inured to almost anything; thus the Arabs, who have
always been accustomed to this kind of exercise, hardly feel the motion,
and the portion of the body most subject to pain in riding a rough camel
upon two bare pieces of wood for a saddle, becomes naturally adapted for
such rough service, as monkeys become hardened from constantly sitting
upon rough substances. The children commence almost as soon as they are
born, as they must accompany their mothers in their annual migrations; and
no sooner can the young Arab sit astride and hold on than he is placed
behind his father's saddle, to which he clings, while he bumps upon the
bare back of the jolting camel. Nature quickly arranges a horny protection
to the nerves, by the thickening of the skin; thus, an Arab's opinion of
the action of a riding hygeen should never be accepted without a personal
trial. What appears delightful to him may be torture to you, as a strong
breeze and a rough sea may be charming to a sailor, but worse than death
to a landsman.</p>
<p>I was determined not to accept the camels now offered as hygeens until I
had seen them tried. I accordingly ordered our black soldier, El Baggar,
to saddle the most easy-actioned animal for my wife; but I wished to see
him put it through a variety of paces before she should accept it. The
delighted EL Baggar, who from long practice was as hard as the heel of a
boot, disdained a saddle. The animal knelt, was mounted, and off he
started at full trot, performing a circle of about fifty yards' diameter
as though in a circus. I never saw such an exhibition! "Warranted quiet to
ride, of easy action, and fit for a lady!" This had been the character
received with the rampant brute, who now, with head and tail erect, went
tearing round the circle, screaming and roaring like a wild beast,
throwing his forelegs forward and stepping at least three feet high in his
trot.</p>
<p>Where was El Baggar? A disjointed looking black figure was sometimes on
the back of this easy going camel, sometimes a foot high in the air; arms,
head, legs, hands, appeared like a confused mass of dislocation; the
woolly hair of this unearthly individual, that had been carefully trained
in long stiff narrow curls, precisely similar to the tobacco known as
"negro-head," alternately started upright en masse, as though under the
influence of electricity, and then fell as suddenly upon his shoulders.
Had the dark individual been a "black dose", he or it could not have been
more thoroughly shaken. This object, so thoroughly disguised by rapidity
of movement, was El Baggar happy, delighted El Baggar! As he came rapidly
round toward us flourishing his coorbatch, I called to him, "Is that a
nice hygeen for the Sit (lady), EL Baggar? Is it very easy?" He was almost
incapable of a reply. "V-e-r-y e-e-a-a-s-y," replied the trustworthy
authority, "j-j-j-just the thin-n-n-g for the S-i-i-i-t-t-t." "All right,
that will do," I answered, and the jockey pulled up his steed. "Are the
other camels better or worse than that?" I asked. "Much worse," replied El
Baggar; "the others are rather rough, but this is an easy goer, and will
suit the lady well."</p>
<p>It was impossible to hire a good hygeen; an Arab prizes his riding animal
too much, and invariably refuses to let it to a stranger, but generally
imposes upon him by substituting some lightly-built camel that he thinks
will pass muster. I accordingly chose for my wife a steady-going animal
from among the baggage-camels, trusting to be able to obtain a hygeen from
the great Sheik Abou Sinn, who was encamped upon the road we were about to
take along the valley of the Atbara. We left Goorashee on the following
day.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER III. </h2>
<p>The Arabs' exodus-Reception by Abou Sinn-Arabs dressing the hair-Toilet of
an Arab woman-The plague of lice-Wives among the Arabs-The Old Testament
confirmed</p>
<p>IT was the season of rejoicing. Everybody appeared in good humor. The
distended udders of thousands of camels were an assurance of plenty. The
burning sun that for nine months had scorched the earth was veiled by
passing clouds. The cattle that had panted for water, and whose food was
withered straw, were filled with juicy fodder. The camels that had
subsisted upon the dried and leafless twigs and branches, now feasted upon
the succulent tops of the mimosas. Throngs of women and children mounted
upon camels, protected by the peculiar gaudy saddle-hood, ornamented with
cowrie-shells, accompanied the march. Thousands of sheep and goats, driven
by Arab boys, were straggling in all directions. Baggage-camels, heavily
laden with the quaint household goods, blocked up the way. The fine
bronzed figures of Arabs, with sword and shield, and white topes, or
plaids, guided their milk-white dromedaries through the confused throng
with the usual placid dignity of their race, simply passing by with the
usual greeting, "Salaam aleikum" (Peace be with you).</p>
<p>It was the Exodus; all were hurrying toward the promised land—"the
land flowing with milk and honey", where men and beasts would be secure,
not only from the fevers of the south, but from that deadly enemy to
camels and cattle, the fly. This terrible insect drove all before it.</p>
<p>If all were right in migrating to the north, it was a logical conclusion
that we were wrong in going to the south during the rainy season; however,
we now heard from the Arabs that we were within a couple of hours' march
from the camp of the great Sheik Achmet Abou Sinn, to whom I had a letter
of introduction. At the expiration of about that time we halted, and
pitched the tents among some shady mimosas, while I sent Mahomet to Abou
Sinn with the letter, and my firman.</p>
<p>I was busily engaged in making sundry necessary arrangements in the tent
when Mahomet returned and announced the arrival of the great sheik in
person. He was attended by several of his principal people, and as he
approached through the bright green mimosas, mounted upon a beautiful
snow-white hygeen, I was exceedingly struck with his venerable and
dignified appearance. Upon near arrival I went forward to meet him and to
assist him from his camel; but his animal knelt immediately at his
command, and he dismounted with the ease and agility of a man of twenty.</p>
<p>He was the most magnificent specimen of an Arab that I have ever seen.
Although upward of eighty years of age, he was as erect as a lance, and
did not appear more than between fifty and sixty. He was of herculean
stature, about six feet three inches high, with immensely broad shoulders
and chest, a remarkably arched nose, eyes like an eagle's, beneath large,
shaggy, but perfectly white eyebrows. A snow-white beard of great
thickness descended below the middle of his breast. He wore a large white
turban and a white cashmere abbai, or long robe, from the throat to the
ankles. As a desert patriarch he was superb—the very perfection of
all that the imagination could paint, if we should personify Abraham at
the head of his people. This grand old Arab with the greatest politeness
insisted upon our immediately accompanying him to his camp, as he could
not allow us to remain in his country as strangers. He would hear of no
excuses, but at once gave orders to Mahomet to have the baggage repacked
and the tents removed, while we were requested to mount two superb white
hygeens, with saddle-cloths of blue Persian sheepskins, that he had
immediately accoutered when he heard from Mahomet of our miserable camels.
The tent was struck, and we joined our venerable host with a line of wild
and splendidly-mounted attendants, who followed us toward the sheik's
encampment.</p>
<p>Among the retinue of the aged sheik whom we now accompanied, were ten of
his sons, some of whom appeared to be quite as old as their father. We had
ridden about two miles when we were suddenly met by a crowd of mounted
men, armed with the usual swords and shields; many were on horses, others
upon hygeens, and all drew up in lines parallel with our approach. These
were Abou Sinn's people, who had assembled to give us the honorary welcome
as guests of their chief. This etiquette of the Arabs consists in
galloping singly at full speed across the line of advance, the rider
flourishing the sword over his head, and at the same moment reining up his
horse upon its haunches so as to bring it to a sudden halt. This having
been performed by about a hundred riders upon both horses and hygeens,
they fell into line behind our party, and, thus escorted, we shortly
arrived at the Arab encampment. In all countries the warmth of a public
welcome appears to be exhibited by noise. The whole neighborhood had
congregated to meet us; crowds of women raised the wild, shrill cry that
is sounded alike for joy or sorrow; drums were beat; men dashed about with
drawn swords and engaged in mimic fight, and in the midst of din and
confusion we halted and dismounted. With peculiar grace of manner the old
sheik assisted my wife to dismount, and led her to an open shed arranged
with angareps (stretchers) covered with Persian carpets and cushions, so
as to form a divan. Sherbet, pipes, and coffee were shortly handed to us,
and Mahomet, as dragoman, translated the customary interchange of
compliments; the sheik assured us that our unexpected arrival among them
was "like the blessing of a new moon", the depth of which expression no
one can understand who has not experienced life in the desert, where the
first faint crescent is greeted with such enthusiasm.</p>
<p>Abou Sinn had arranged to move northward on the following day; we
therefore agreed to pass one day in his camp, and to leave the next
morning for Sofi, on the Atbara, about seventy-eight miles distant.</p>
<p>From Korosko to this point we had already passed the Bedouins, Bishareens,
Hadendowas, Hallongas, until we had entered the Shookeriyahs. On the west
of our present position were the Jalyns, and to the south near Sofi were
the Dabainas. Many of the tribes claim a right to the title of Bedouins,
as descended from that race. The customs of all the Arabs are nearly
similar, and the distinction in appearance is confined to a peculiarity in
dressing the hair. This is a matter of great importance among both men and
women. It would be tedious to describe the minutiae of the various
coiffures, but the great desire with all tribes, except the Jalyn, is to
have a vast quantity of hair arranged in their own peculiar fashion, and
not only smeared, but covered with as much fat as can be made to adhere.
Thus, should a man wish to get himself up as a great dandy, he would put
at least half a pound of butter or other fat upon his head. This would be
worked up with his coarse locks by a friend, until it somewhat resembled a
cauliflower. He would then arrange his tope or plaid of thick cotton
cloth, and throw one end over his left shoulder, while slung from the same
shoulder his circular shield would hang upon his back; suspended by a
strap over the right shoulder would hang his long two-edged broadsword.</p>
<p>Fat is the great desideratum of an Arab. His head, as I have described,
should be a mass of grease; he rubs his body with oil or other ointment;
his clothes, i.e. his one garment or tope, is covered with grease, and
internally he swallows as much as he can procure.</p>
<p>The great Sheik Abou Sinn, who is upward of eighty, as upright as a dart,
a perfect Hercules, and whose children and grandchildren are like the sand
of the sea-shore, has always consumed daily throughout his life two
rottolis (pounds) of melted butter. A short time before I left the country
he married a new young wife about fourteen years of age. This may be a
hint to octogenarians.</p>
<p>The fat most esteemed for dressing the hair is that of the sheep. This
undergoes a curious preparation, which renders it similar in appearance to
cold cream; upon the raw fat being taken from the animal it is chewed in
the mouth by an Arab for about two hours, being frequently taken out for
examination during that time, until it has assumed the desired
consistency. To prepare sufficient to enable a man to appear in full
dress, several persons must be employed in masticating fat at the same
time. This species of pomade, when properly made, is perfectly white, and
exceedingly light and frothy. It may be imagined that when exposed to a
burning sun, the beauty of the head-dress quickly disappears; but the oil
then runs down the neck and back, which is considered quite correct,
especially when the tope becomes thoroughly greased. The man is then
perfectly anointed. We had seen an amusing example of this when on the
march from Berber to Gozerajup. The Turk, Hadji Achmet, had pressed into
our service, as a guide for a few miles, a dandy who had just been
arranged as a cauliflower, with at least half a pound of white fat upon
his head. As we were travelling upward of four miles an hour in an intense
heat, during which he was obliged to run, the fat ran quicker than he did,
and at the end of a couple of hours both the dandy and his pomade were
exhausted. The poor fellow had to return to his friends with the total
loss of personal appearance and half a pound of butter.</p>
<p>Not only are the Arabs particular in their pomade, but great attention is
bestowed upon perfumery, especially by the women. Various perfumes are
brought from Cairo by the travelling native merchants, among which those
most in demand are oil of roses, oil of sandal-wood, an essence from the
blossom of a species of mimosa, essence of musk, and the oil of cloves.
The women have a peculiar method of scenting their bodies and clothes by
an operation that is considered to be one of the necessaries of life, and
which is repeated at regular intervals. In the floor of the tent, or hut,
as it may chance to be, a small hole is excavated sufficiently large to
contain a common-sized champagne bottle. A fire of charcoal, or of simply
glowing embers, is made within the hole, into which the woman about to be
scented throws a handful of various drugs. She then takes off the cloth or
tope which forms her dress, and crouches naked over the fumes, while she
arranges her robe to fall as a mantle from her neck to the ground like a
tent. When this arrangement is concluded she is perfectly happy, as none
of the precious fumes can escape, all being retained beneath the robe,
precisely as if she wore a crinoline with an incense-burner beneath it,
which would be a far more simple way of performing the operation. She now
begins to perspire freely in the hot-air bath, and the pores of the skin
being thus opened and moist, the volatile oil from the smoke of the
burning perfumes is immediately absorbed.</p>
<p>By the time that the fire has expired the scenting process is completed,
and both her person and robe are redolent of incense, with which they are
so thoroughly impregnated that I have frequently smelt a party of women
strongly at full a hundred yards' distance, when the wind has been blowing
from their direction.</p>
<p>The Arab women do not indulge in fashions. Strictly conservative in their
manners and customs, they never imitate, but they simply vie with each
other in the superlativeness of their own style; thus the dressing of the
hair is a most elaborate affair, which occupies a considerable portion of
their time. It is quite impossible for an Arab woman to arrange her own
hair; she therefore employs an assistant, who, if clever in the art, will
generally occupy about three days before the operation is concluded.
First, the hair must be combed with a long skewer-like pin; then, when
well divided, it becomes possible to use an exceedingly coarse wooden
comb. When the hair is reduced to reasonable order by the latter process,
a vigorous hunt takes place, which occupies about an hour, according to
the amount of game preserved. The sport concluded, the hair is rubbed with
a mixture of oil of roses, myrrh, and sandal-wood dust mixed with a powder
of cloves and cassia. When well greased and rendered somewhat stiff by the
solids thus introduced, it is plaited into at least two hundred fine
plaits; each of these plaits is then smeared with a mixture of sandal-wood
dust and either gum water or paste of dhurra flour. On the last day of the
operation, each tiny plait is carefully opened by the long hairpin or
skewer, and the head is ravissante. Scented and frizzled in this manner
with a well-greased tope or robe, the Arab lady's toilet is complete. Her
head is then a little larger than the largest sized English mop, and her
perfume is something between the aroma of a perfumer's shop and the
monkey-house at the Zoological Gardens. This is considered "very killing,"
and I have been quite of that opinion when a crowd of women have visited
my wife in our tent, with the thermometer at 95 degrees C, and have kindly
consented to allow me to remain as one of the party.</p>
<p>It is hardly necessary to add that the operation of hairdressing is not
often performed, but that the effect is permanent for about a week, during
which time the game becomes so excessively lively that the creatures
require stirring up with the long hairpin or skewer whenever too unruly.
This appears to be constantly necessary from the vigorous employment of
the ruling sceptre during conversation. A levee of Arab women in the tent
was therefore a disagreeable invasion, as we dreaded the fugitives;
fortunately, they appeared to cling to the followers of Mahomet in
preference to Christians.</p>
<p>The plague of lice brought upon the Egyptians by Moses has certainly
adhered to the country ever since, if "lice" is the proper translation of
the Hebrew word in the Old Testament. It is my own opinion that the
insects thus inflicted upon the population were not lice, but ticks. Exod.
8:16: "The dust became lice throughout all Egypt;" again, Exod. 8:17:
"Smote dust... it became lice in man and beast." Now the louse that
infests the human body and hair has no connection whatever with "dust,"
and if subject to a few hours' exposure to the dry heat of the burning
sand, it would shrivel and die. But the tick is an inhabitant of the dust,
a dry horny insect without any apparent moisture in its composition; it
lives in hot sand and dust, where it cannot possibly obtain nourishment,
until some wretched animal lies down upon the spot, when it becomes
covered with these horrible vermin. I have frequently seen dry desert
places so infested with ticks that the ground was perfectly alive with
them, and it would have been impossible to rest on the earth.</p>
<p>In such spots, the passage in Exodus has frequently occurred to me as
bearing reference to these vermin, which are the greatest enemies to man
and beast. It is well known that, from the size of a grain of sand in
their natural state, they will distend to the size of a hazelnut after
having preyed for some days upon the blood of an animal. The Arabs are
invariably infested with lice, not only in their hair, but upon their
bodies and clothes; even the small charms or spells worn upon the arm in
neatly-sewn leathern packets are full of these vermin. Such spells are
generally verses copied from the Koran by the Faky, or priest, who
receives some small gratuity in exchange. The men wear several such
talismans upon the arm above the elbow, but the women wear a large bunch
of charms, as a sort of chatelaine, suspended beneath their clothes around
the waist.</p>
<p>Although the tope or robe, loosely but gracefully arranged around the
body, appears to be the whole of the costume, the women wear beneath this
garment a thin blue cotton cloth tightly bound round the loins, which
descends to a little above the knee; beneath this, next to the skin, is
the last garment, the rahat. The latter is the only clothing of young
girls, and may be either perfectly simple or adorned with beads and cowrie
shells according to the fancy of the wearer. It is perfectly effective as
a dress, and admirably adapted to the climate.</p>
<p>The rahat is a fringe of fine dark brown or reddish twine, fastened to a
belt, and worn round the waist. On either side are two long tassels, that
are generally ornamented with beads or cowries, and dangle nearly to the
ankles, while the rahat itself should descend to a little above the knee,
or be rather shorter than a Highland kilt. Nothing can be prettier or more
simple than this dress, which, although short, is of such thickly hanging
fringe that it perfectly answers the purpose for which it is intended.</p>
<p>Many of the Arab girls are remarkably good-looking, with fine figures
until they become mothers. They generally marry at the age of thirteen or
fourteen, but frequently at twelve or even earlier. Until married, the
rahat is their sole garment. Throughout the Arab tribes of Upper Egypt,
chastity is a necessity, as an operation is performed at the early age of
from three to five years that thoroughly protects all females and which
renders them physically proof against incontinency.</p>
<p>There is but little love-making among the Arabs. The affair of matrimony
usually commences by a present to the father of the girl, which, if
accepted, is followed by a similar advance to the girl herself, and the
arrangement is completed. All the friends of both parties are called
together for the wedding; pistols and guns are fired off, if possessed.
There is much feasting, and the unfortunate bridegroom undergoes the
ordeal of whipping by the relatives of his bride, in order to test his
courage. Sometimes this punishment is exceedingly severe, being inflicted
with the coorbatch or whip of hippopotamus hide, which is cracked
vigorously about his ribs and back. If the happy husband wishes to be
considered a man worth having, he must receive the chastisement with an
expression of enjoyment; in which case the crowds of women again raise
their thrilling cry in admiration. After the rejoicings of the day are
over, the bride is led in the evening to the residence of her husband,
while a beating of drums and strumming of guitars (rhababas) are kept up
for some hours during the night, with the usual discordant singing.</p>
<p>There is no divorce court among the Arabs. They are not sufficiently
advanced in civilization to accept a pecuniary fine as the price of a
wife's dishonor; but a stroke of the husband's sword or a stab with the
knife is generally the ready remedy for infidelity. Although strict
Mahometans, the women are never veiled; neither do they adopt the
excessive reserve assumed by the Turks and Egyptians. The Arab women are
generally idle, and one of the conditions of accepting a suitor is that a
female slave is to be provided for the special use of the wife. No Arab
woman will engage herself as a domestic servant; thus, so long as their
present customs shall remain unchanged, slaves are creatures of necessity.
Although the law of Mahomet limits the number of wives for each man to
four at one time, the Arab women do not appear to restrict their husbands
to this allowance, and the slaves of the establishment occupy the position
of concubines.</p>
<p>The Arabs adhere strictly to their ancient customs, independently of the
comparatively recent laws established by Mahomet. Thus, concubinage is not
considered a breach of morality; neither is it regarded by the legitimate
wives with jealousy. They attach great importance to the laws of Moses and
to the customs of their forefathers; neither can they understand the
reason for a change of habit in any respect where necessity has not
suggested the reform. The Arabs are creatures of necessity; their nomadic
life is compulsory, as the existence of their flocks and herds depends
upon the pasturage. Thus, with the change of seasons they must change
their localities, according to the presence of fodder for their cattle.
Driven to and fro by the accidents of climate, the Arab has been compelled
to become a wanderer; and precisely as the wild beasts of the country are
driven from place to place either by the arrival of the fly, the lack of
pasturage, or by the want of water, even so must the flocks of the Arab
obey the law of necessity, in a country where the burning sun and total
absence of rain for nine months of the year convert the green pastures
into a sandy desert.</p>
<p>The Arab cannot halt on one spot longer than the pasturage will support
his flocks; therefore his necessity is food for his beasts. The object of
his life being fodder, he must wander in search of the ever-changing
supply. His wants must be few, as the constant changes of encampment
necessitate the transport of all his household goods; thus he reduces to a
minimum the domestic furniture and utensils. No desires for strange and
fresh objects excite his mind to improvement, or alter his original
habits; he must limit his impedimenta, not increase them. Thus with a few
necessary articles he is contented. Mats for his tent, ropes manufactured
with the hair of his goats and camels, pots for carrying fat, water-jars
and earthenware pots or gourd-shells for containing milk, leather
water-skins for the desert, and sheep-skin bags for his clothes—these
are the requirements of the Arabs. Their patterns have never changed, but
the water-jar of to-day is of the same form as that carried to the well by
the women of thousands of years ago. The conversation of the Arabs is in
the exact style of the Old Testament. The name of God is coupled with
every trifling incident in life, and they believe in the continual action
of divine special interference. Should a famine afflict the country, it is
expressed in the stern language of the bible—"The Lord has sent a
grievous famine upon the land;" or, "The Lord called for a famine, and it
came upon the land." Should their cattle fall sick, it is considered to be
an affliction by divine command; or should the flocks prosper and multiply
particularly well during one season, the prosperity is attributed to
special interference. Nothing can happen in the usual routine of daily
life without a direct connection with the hand of God, according to the
Arab's belief.</p>
<p>This striking similarity to the descriptions of the Old Testament is
exceedingly interesting to a traveller when residing among these curious
and original people. With the Bible in one hand, and these unchanged
tribes before the eyes, there is a thrilling illustration of the sacred
record; the past becomes the present; the veil of three thousand years is
raised, and the living picture is a witness to the exactness of the
historical description. At the same time there is a light thrown upon many
obscure passages in the Old Testament by a knowledge of the present
customs and figures of speech of the Arabs, which are precisely those that
were practised at the periods described. I do not attempt to enter upon a
theological treatise, therefore it is unnecessary to allude specially to
these particular points. The sudden and desolating arrival of a flight of
locusts, the plague, or any other unforeseen calamity, is attributed to
the anger of God, and is believed to be an infliction of punishment upon
the people thus visited, precisely as the plagues of Egypt were specially
inflicted upon Pharaoh and the Egyptians.</p>
<p>Should the present history of the country be written by an Arab scribe,
the style of the description would be purely that of the Old Testament;
and the various calamities or the good fortunes that have in the course of
nature befallen both the tribes and individuals would be recounted either
as special visitations of divine wrath or blessings for good deeds
performed. If in a dream a particular course of action is suggested, the
Arab believes that God has spoken and directed him. The Arab scribe or
historian would describe the event as the "voice of the Lord" ("kallam el
Allah"), having spoken unto the person; or, that God appeared to him in a
dream and "said," etc. Thus much allowance would be necessary on the part
of a European reader for the figurative ideas and expressions of the
people. As the Arabs are unchanged, the theological opinions which they
now hold are the same as those which prevailed in remote ages, with the
simple addition of their belief in Mahomet as the Prophet.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER IV. </h2>
<p>On the Abyssinian border. A new school of medicine—Sacred shrines
and epidemics.</p>
<p>We left the camp of Abou Sinn on the morning of July 25th, and in a few
rapid marches arrived at Tomat, a lovely spot at the junction of the
Atbara with the Settite.</p>
<p>The Settite is the river par excellence, as it is the principal stream of
Abyssinia, in which country it bears the name of "Tacazzy." Above the
junction the Athara does not exceed two hundred yards in width. Both
rivers have scooped out deep and broad valleys throughout their course.
This fact confirmed my first impression that the supply of soil had been
brought down by the Atbara to the Nile. The country on the opposite or
eastern bank of the Atbara is contested ground. In reality it forms the
western frontier of Abyssinia, of which the Atbara River is the boundary;
but since the annexation of the Nubian provinces to Egypt there has been
no safety for life or property upon the line of frontier; thus a large
tract of country actually forming a portion of Abyssinia is uninhabited.</p>
<p>Upon our arrival at Sofi we were welcomed by the sheik, and by a German,
Florian, who was delighted to see Europeans. He was a sallow,
sickly-looking man, who with a large bony frame had been reduced from
constant hard work and frequent sickness to little but skin and sinew. He
was a mason, who had left Germany with the Austrian mission to Khartoum,
but finding the work too laborious in such a climate, he and a friend, who
was a carpenter, had declared for independence, and they had left the
mission. They were both enterprising fellows, and sportsmen; therefore
they had purchased rifles and ammunition, and had commenced life as
hunters. At the same time they employed their leisure hours in earning
money by the work of their hands in various ways.</p>
<p>I determined to arrange our winter quarters at Sofi for three months'
stay, during which I should have ample time to gain information and
complete arrangements for the future. I accordingly succeeded in
purchasing a remarkably neat house for ten piastres (two shillings). The
architecture was of an ancient style, from the original design of a
pill-box surmounted by a candle extinguisher. I purchased two additional
huts, which were erected at the back of our mansion, one as the kitchen,
the other as the servants' hall.</p>
<p>In the course of a week we had as pretty a camp as Robinson Crusoe himself
could have coveted. We had a view of about five miles in extent along the
valley of the Atbara, and it was my daily amusement to scan with my
telescope the uninhabited country upon the opposite side of the river and
watch the wild animals as they grazed in perfect security. We were
thoroughly happy at Sofi. There was a delightful calm and a sense of rest,
a total estrangement from the cares of the world, and an enchanting
contrast in the soft green verdure of the landscape before us, to the many
hundred weary miles of burning desert through which we had toiled from
Lower Egypt.</p>
<p>Time glided away smoothly until the fever invaded our camp. Florian became
seriously ill. My wife was prostrated by a severe attack of gastric fever,
which for nine days rendered her recovery almost hopeless. Then came the
plague of boils, and soon after a species of intolerable itch, called the
coorash. I adopted for this latter a specific I had found successful with
the mange in dogs, namely, gunpowder, with one fourth sulphur added, made
into a soft paste with water, and then formed into an ointment with fat.
It worked like a charm with the coorash.</p>
<p>Faith is the drug that is supposed to cure the Arab; whatever his
complaint may be, he applies to his Faky or priest. This minister is not
troubled with a confusion of book-learning, neither are the shelves of his
library bending beneath weighty treatises upon the various maladies of
human nature; but he possesses the key to all learning, the talisman that
will apply to all cases, in that one holy book, the Koran. This is his
complete pharmacopoeia: his medicine chest, combining purgatives,
blisters, sudorifies, styptics, narcotics, emetics, and all that the most
profound M.D. could prescribe. With this "multum in parvo" stock-in-trade
the Faky receives his patients. No. 1 arrives, a barren woman who requests
some medicine that will promote the blessing of childbirth. No. 2, a man
who was strong in his youth, but from excessive dissipation has become
useless. No. 3, a man deformed from his birth, who wishes to become
straight as other men. No. 4, a blind child. No. 5, a dying old woman,
carried on a litter; and sundry other impossible cases, with others of a
more simple character.</p>
<p>The Faky produces his book, the holy Koran, and with a pen formed of a
reed he proceeds to write a prescription—not to be made up by an
apothecary, as such dangerous people do not exist; but the prescription
itself is to be SWALLOWED! Upon a smooth board, like a slate, he rubs
sufficient lime to produce a perfectly white surface; upon this he writes
in large characters, with thick glutinous ink, a verse or verses from the
Koran that he considers applicable to the case; this completed, he washes
off the holy quotation, and converts it into a potation by the addition of
a little water; this is swallowed in perfect faith by the patient, who in
return pays a fee according to the demand of the Faky.</p>
<p>As few people can read or write, there is an air of mystery in the art of
writing which much enhances the value of a scrap of paper upon which is
written a verse from the Koran. A few piastres are willingly expended in
the purchase of such talismans, which are carefully and very neatly sewn
into small envelopes of leather, and are worn by all people, being handed
down from father to son.</p>
<p>The Arabs are especially fond of relics; thus, upon the return from a
pilgrimage to Mecca, the "hadji" or pilgrim is certain to have purchased
from some religious Faky of the sacred shrine either a few square inches
of cloth, or some such trifle, that belonged to the prophet Mahomet. This
is exhibited to his friends and strangers as a wonderful spell against
some particular malady, and it is handed about and received with extreme
reverence by the assembled crowd. I once formed one of a circle when a
pilgrim returned to his native village. We sat in a considerable number
upon the ground, while he drew from his bosom a leather envelope,
suspended from his neck, from which he produced a piece of extremely
greasy woollen cloth, about three inches square, the original color of
which it would have been impossible to guess. This was a piece of
Mahomet's garment, but what portion he could not say. The pilgrim had paid
largely for this blessed relic, and it was passed round our circle from
hand to hand, after having first been kissed by the proprietor, who raised
it to the crown of his head, which he touched with the cloth, and then
wiped both his eyes. Each person who received it went through a similar
performance, and as ophthalmia and other diseases of the eyes were
extremely prevalent, several of the party had eyes that had not the
brightness of the gazelle's; nevertheless, these were supposed to become
brighter after having been wiped by the holy cloth. How many eyes this
same piece of cloth had wiped, it would be impossible to say, but such
facts are sufficient to prove the danger of holy relics, that are
inoculators of all manner of contagious diseases.</p>
<p>I believe in holy shrines as the pest spots of the world. We generally
have experienced in Western Europe that all violent epidemics arrive from
the East. The great breadth of the Atlantic boundary would naturally
protect us from the West, but infectious disorders, such as plague,
cholera, small-pox, etc., may be generally tracked throughout their
gradations from their original nests. Those nests are in the East, where
the heat of the climate acting upon the filth of semi-savage communities
engenders pestilence.</p>
<p>The holy places of both Christians and Mahometans are the receptacles for
the masses of people of all nations and classes who have arrived from all
points of the compass. The greater number of such people are of poor
estate, and many have toiled on foot from immense distances, suffering
from hunger and fatigue, and bringing with them not only the diseases of
their own remote counties, but arriving in that weak state that courts the
attack of any epidemic. Thus crowded together, with a scarcity of
provisions, a want of water, and no possibility of cleanliness, with
clothes that have been unwashed for weeks or months, in a camp of dirty
pilgrims, without any attempt at drainage, an accumulation of filth takes
place that generates either cholera or typhus; the latter, in its most
malignant form, appears as the dreaded "plague." Should such an epidemic
attack the mass of pilgrims debilitated by the want of nourishing food,
and exhausted by their fatiguing march, it runs riot like a fire among
combustibles, and the loss of life is terrific. The survivors radiate from
this common centre, upon their return to their respective homes, to which
they carry the seeds of the pestilence to germinate upon new soils in
different countries. Doubtless the clothes of the dead furnish materials
for innumerable holy relics as vestiges of the wardrobe of the Prophet.
These are disseminated by the pilgrims throughout all countries, pregnant
with disease; and, being brought into personal contact with hosts of true
believers, Pandora's box could not be more fatal.</p>
<p>Not only are relics upon a pocket scale conveyed by pilgrims and
reverenced by the Arabs, but the body of any Faky who in lifetime was
considered unusually holy is brought from a great distance to be interred
in some particular spot. In countries where a tree is a rarity, a plank
for a coffin is unknown; thus the reverend Faky, who may have died of
typhus, is wrapped in cloths and packed in a mat. In this form he is
transported, perhaps some hundred miles, slung upon a camel, with the
thermometer above 130 degrees Fah. in the sun, and he is conveyed to the
village that is so fortunate as to be honored with his remains. It may be
readily imagined that with a favorable wind the inhabitants are warned of
his approach some time before his arrival.</p>
<p>Happily, long before we arrived at Sofi, the village had been blessed by
the death of a celebrated Faky, a holy man who would have been described
as a second Isaiah were the annals of the country duly chronicled. This
great "man of God," as he was termed, had departed this life at a village
on the borders of the Nile, about eight days' hard camel-journey from
Sofi; but from some assumed right, mingled no doubt with jobbery, the
inhabitants of Sofi had laid claim to his body, and he had arrived upon a
camel horizontally, and had been buried about fifty yards from the site of
our camp. His grave was beneath a clump of mimosas that shaded the spot,
and formed the most prominent object in the foreground of our landscape.
Thither every Friday the women of the village congregated, with offerings
of a few handfuls of dhurra in small gourd-shells, which they laid upon
the grave, while they ATE THE HOLY EARTH in small pinches, which they
scraped like rabbits, from a hole they had burrowed toward the venerated
corpse. This hole was about two feet deep from continual scratching, and
must have been very near the Faky.</p>
<p>Although thus reverent in their worship, the Arab's religion is a sort of
adjustable one. The wild boar, for instance, is invariably eaten by the
Arab hunters, although in direct opposition to the rules of the Koran. I
once asked them what their Faky would say if he were aware of such a
transgression. "Oh!" they replied, "we have already asked his permission,
as we are sometimes severely pressed for food in the jungles. He says, `If
you have the KORAN in your hand and NO PIG, you are forbidden to eat pork;
but if you have the PIG in your hand and NO KORAN, you had better eat what
God has given you.'"</p>
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<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER V. </h2>
<p>A primitive craft—Stalking the giraffes—My first giraffes—Rare
sport with the finny tribe—Thieving elephants.</p>
<p>For many days, while at Sofi, we saw large herds of giraffes and antelopes
on the opposite side of the river, about two miles distant. On September
2d a herd of twenty-eight giraffes tempted me at all hazards to cross the
river. So we prepared an impromptu raft. My angarep (bedstead) was quickly
inverted. Six water-skins were inflated, and lashed, three on either side.
A shallow packing-case, lined with tin, containing my gun, was fastened in
the centre of the angarep, and two towlines were attached to the front
part of the raft, by which swimmers were to draw it across the river. Two
men were to hang on behind, and, if possible, keep it straight in the
rapid current. After some difficulty we arrived at the opposite bank, and
scrambled through thick bushes, upon our hands and knees, to the summit.</p>
<p>For about two miles' breadth on this side of the river the valley was
rough broken ground, full of gullies and ravines sixty or seventy feet
deep, beds of torrents, bare sandstone rocks, bushy crags, fine grassy
knolls, and long strips of mimosa covert, forming a most perfect locality
for shooting.</p>
<p>I had observed by the telescope that the giraffes were standing as usual
upon an elevated position, from whence they could keep a good lookout. I
knew it would be useless to ascend the slope directly, as their long necks
give these animals an advantage similar to that of the man at the
masthead; therefore, although we had the wind in our favor, we should have
been observed. I accordingly determined to make a great circuit of about
five miles, and thus to approach them from above, with the advantage of
the broken ground for stalking. It was the perfection of uneven country.
By clambering up broken cliffs, wading shoulder-deep through muddy
gullies, sliding down the steep ravines, and winding through narrow
bottoms of high grass and mimosas for about two hours, we at length
arrived at the point of the high table-land upon the verge of which I had
first noticed the giraffes with the telescope. Almost immediately I
distinguished the tall neck of one of these splendid animals about half a
mile distant upon my left, a little below the table-land; it was feeding
on the bushes, and I quickly discovered several others near the leader of
the herd. I was not far enough advanced in the circuit that I had intended
to bring me exactly above them, therefore I turned sharp to my right,
intending to make a short half circle, and to arrive on the leeward side
of the herd, as I was now to windward. This I fortunately completed, but I
had marked a thick bush as my point of cover, and upon arrival I found
that the herd had fed down wind, and that I was within two hundred yards
of the great bull sentinel that, having moved from his former position,
was now standing directly before me.</p>
<p>I lay down quietly behind the bush with my two followers, and anxiously
watched the great leader, momentarily expecting that it would get my wind.
It was shortly joined by two others, and I perceived the heads of several
giraffes lower down the incline, that were now feeding on their way to the
higher ground. The seroot fly was teasing them, and I remarked that
several birds were fluttering about their heads, sometimes perching upon
their noses and catching the fly that attacked their nostrils, while the
giraffes appeared relieved by their attentions. These birds were of a
peculiar species that attacks the domestic animals, and not only relieves
them of vermin, but eats into the flesh and establishes dangerous sores. A
puff of wind now gently fanned the back of my neck; it was cool and
delightful, but no sooner did I feel the refreshing breeze than I knew it
would convey our scent directly to the giraffes. A few seconds afterward
the three grand obelisks threw their heads still higher in the air, and
fixing their great black eyes upon the spot from which the warning came,
they remained as motionless as though carved from stone. From their great
height they could see over the bush behind which we were lying at some
paces distant, and although I do not think they could distinguish us to be
men, they could see enough to convince them of hidden enemies.</p>
<p>The attitude of fixed attention and surprise of the three giraffes was
sufficient warning for the rest of the herd, who immediately filed up from
the lower ground, and joined their comrades. All now halted and gazed
steadfastly in our direction, forming a superb tableau, their beautiful
mottled skins glancing like the summer coat of a thoroughbred horse, the
orange-colored statues standing out in high relief from a background of
dark-green mimosas.</p>
<p>This beautiful picture soon changed. I knew that my chance of a close shot
was hopeless, as they would presently make a rush and be off; thus I
determined to get the first start. I had previously studied the ground,
and I concluded that they would push forward at right angles with my
position, as they had thus ascended the hill, and that, on reaching the
higher ground, they would turn to the right, in order to reach an immense
tract of high grass, as level as a billiard-table, from which no danger
could approach them unobserved.</p>
<p>I accordingly with a gentle movement of my hand directed my people to
follow me, and I made a sudden rush forward at full speed. Off went the
herd, shambling along at a tremendous pace, whisking their long tails
above their hind quarters, and, taking exactly the direction I had
anticipated, they offered me a shoulder shot at a little within two
hundred yards' distance. Unfortunately, I fell into a deep hole concealed
by the high grass, and by the time that I resumed the hunt they had
increased their distance; but I observed the leader turned sharply to the
right, through some low mimosa bush, to make directly for the open
table-land. I made a short cut obliquely at my best speed, and only halted
when I saw that I should lose ground by altering my position. Stopping
short, I was exactly opposite the herd as they filed by me at right angles
in full speed, within about a hundred and eighty yards. I had my old
Ceylon No. 10 double rifle, and I took a steady shot at a large
dark-colored bull. The satisfactory sound of the ball upon his hide was
followed almost immediately by his blundering forward for about twenty
yards and falling heavily in the low bush. I heard the crack of the ball
of my left-hand barrel upon another fine beast, but no effects followed.
Bacheet quickly gave me the single two-ounce Manton rifle, and I singled
out a fine dark-colored bull, who fell on his knees to the shot, but,
recovering, hobbled off disabled, apart from the herd, with a foreleg
broken just below the shoulder. Reloading immediately, I ran up to the
spot, where I found my first giraffe lying dead, with the ball clean
through both shoulders. The second was standing about one hundred paces
distant. Upon my approach he attempted to move, but immediately fell, and
was despatched by my eager Arabs. I followed the herd for about a mile to
no purpose, through deep clammy ground and high grass, and I returned to
our game.</p>
<p>These were my first giraffes, and I admired them as they lay before me
with a hunter's pride and satisfaction, but mingled with a feeling of pity
for such beautiful and utterly helpless creatures. The giraffe, although
from sixteen to twenty feet in height, is perfectly defenceless, and can
only trust to the swiftness of its pace and the extraordinary power of
vision, for its means of protection. The eye of this animal is the most
beautiful exaggeration of that of the gazelle, while the color of the
reddish-orange hide, mottled with darker spots, changes the tints of the
skin with the differing rays of light, according to the muscular movement
of the body. No one who has merely seen the giraffe in a cold climate can
form the least idea of its beauty in its native land.</p>
<p>Life at Sofi was becoming sadly monotonous, and I determined to move my
party across the river to camp on the uninhabited side. The rains had
almost ceased, so we should be able to live in a tent by night, and to
form a shady nook beneath some mimosas by day. On the 15th of September
the entire male population of Sofi turned out to assist us across the
river. I had arranged a raft by attaching eight inflated skins to the
bedstead, upon which I lashed our large circular sponging bath. Four
hippopotami hunters were harnessed as tug steamers. By evening all our
party, with the baggage, had effected the crossing without accident—all
but Achmet, Mahomet's mother's brother's cousin's sister's mother's son,
who took advantage of his near relative, when the latter was in the middle
of the stream, and ran off with most of his personal effects.</p>
<p>The life at our new camp was charmingly independent. We were upon
Abyssinian territory, but as the country was uninhabited we considered it
as our own. Our camp was near the mouth of a small stream, the Till,
tributary to the Atbara, which afforded some excellent sport in fishing.
Choosing one day a fish of about half a pound for bait, I dropped this in
the river about twenty yards beyond the mouth of the Till, and allowed it
to swim naturally down the stream so as to pass across the Till junction,
and descend the deep channel between the rocks. For about ten minutes I
had no run. I had twice tried the same water without success; nothing
would admire my charming bait; when, just as it had reached the favorite
turning-point at the extremity of a rock, away dashed the line, with the
tremendous rush that follows the attack of a heavy fish. Trusting to the
soundness of my tackle, I struck hard and fixed my new acquaintance
thoroughly, but off he dashed down the stream for about fifty yards at one
rush, making for a narrow channel between two rocks, through which the
stream ran like a mill-race. Should he pass this channel, I knew he would
cut the line across the rock; therefore, giving him the butt, I held him
by main force, and by the great swirl in the water I saw that I was
bringing him to the surface; but just as I expected to see him, my float
having already appeared, away he darted in another direction, taking sixty
or seventy yards of line without a check. I at once observed that he must
pass a shallow sandbank favorable for landing a heavy fish; I therefore
checked him as he reached this spot, and I followed him down the bank,
reeling up line as I ran parallel with his course. Now came the tug of
war! I knew my hooks were good and the line sound, therefore I was
determined not to let him escape beyond the favorable ground; and I put
upon him a strain that, after much struggling, brought to the surface a
great shovel-head, followed by a pair of broad silvery sides, as I led him
gradually into shallow water. Bacheet now cleverly secured him by the
gills, and dragged him in triumph to the shore. This was a splendid
bayard, of at least forty pounds' weight.</p>
<p>I laid my prize upon some green reeds, and covered it carefully with the
same cool material. I then replaced my bait by a lively fish, and once
more tried the river. In a very short time I had another run, and landed a
small fish of about nine pounds, of the same species. Not wishing to catch
fish of that size, I put on a large bait, and threw it about forty yards
into the river, well up the stream, and allowed the float to sweep the
water in a half circle, thus taking the chance of different distances from
the shore. For about half an hour nothing moved. I was just preparing to
alter my position, when out rushed my line, and, striking hard, I believed
I fixed the old gentleman himself, for I had no control over him whatever.
Holding him was out of the question; the line flew through my hands,
cutting them till the blood flowed, and I was obliged to let the fish take
his own way. This he did for about eighty yards, when he suddenly stopped.
This unexpected halt was a great calamity, for the reel overran itself,
having no checkwheel, and the slack bends of the line caught the handle
just as he again rushed forward, and with a jerk that nearly pulled the
rod from my hands he was gone! I found one of my large hooks broken short
off. The fish was a monster!</p>
<p>After this bad luck I had no run until the evening, when, putting on a
large bait, and fishing at the tail of a rock between the stream and still
water, I once more had a fine rush, and hooked a big one. There were no
rocks down stream, all was fair play and clear water, and away he went at
racing pace straight for the middle of the river. To check the pace I
grasped the line with the stuff of my loose trousers, and pressed it
between my fingers so as to act as a brake and compel him to labor for
every yard; but he pulled like a horse, and nearly cut through the thick
cotton cloth, making straight running for at least a hundred yards without
a halt. I now put so severe a strain upon him that my strong bamboo bent
nearly double, and the fish presently so far yielded to the pressure that
I could enforce his running in half circles instead of straight away. I
kept gaining line until I at length led him into a shallow bay, and after
a great fight Bacheet embraced him by falling upon him and clutching the
monster with hands and knees; he then tugged to the shore a magnificent
fish of upward of sixty pounds. For about twenty minutes lie had fought
against such a strain as I had never before used upon a fish; but I had
now adopted hooks of such a large size and thickness that it was hardly
possible for them to break, unless snapped by a crocodile. My reel was so
loosened from the rod, that had the struggle lasted a few minutes longer I
must have been vanquished. This fish measured three feet eight inches to
the root of the tail, and two feet three inches in girth of shoulders; the
head measured one foot ten inches in circumference. It was of the same
species as those I had already caught.</p>
<p>Over a month was passed at our camp, Ehetilla, as we called it. The time
passed in hunting, fishing, and observing the country, but it was for the
most part uneventful. In the end of October we removed to a village called
Wat el Negur, nine miles south-east of Ehetilla, still on the bank of the
Atbara.</p>
<p>Our arrival was welcomed with enthusiasm. The Arabs here had extensive
plantations of sesame, dhurra, and cotton, and the nights were spent in
watching them, to scare away the elephants, which, with extreme cunning,
invaded the fields of dhurra at different points every night, and
retreated before morning to the thick, thorny jungles of the Settite. The
Arabs were without firearms, and the celebrated aggageers or sword-hunters
were useless, as the elephants appeared only at night, and were far too
cunning to give them a chance. I was importuned to drive away the
elephants, and one evening, about nine o'clock, I arrived at the
plantations with three men carrying spare guns. We had not been half an
hour in the dhurra fields before we met a couple of Arab watchers, who
informed us that a herd of elephants was already in the plantation; we
accordingly followed our guides. In about a quarter of an hour we
distinctly heard the cracking of the dhurra stems, as the elephants
browsed and trampled them beneath their feet.</p>
<p>Taking the proper position of the wind, I led our party cautiously in the
direction of the sound, and in about five minutes I came in view of the
slate-colored and dusky forms of the herd. The moon was bright, and I
counted nine elephants; they had trampled a space of about fifty yards
square into a barren level, and they were now slowly moving forward,
feeding as they went. One elephant, unfortunately, was separated from the
herd, and was about forty yards in the rear; this fellow I was afraid
would render our approach difficult. Cautioning my men, especially
Bacheet, to keep close to me with the spare rifles, I crept along the
alleys formed by the tall rows of dhurra, and after carefully stalking
against the wind, I felt sure that it would be necessary to kill the
single elephant before I should be able to attack the herd. Accordingly I
crept nearer and nearer, well concealed in the favorable crop of high and
sheltering stems, until I was within fifteen yards of the hindmost animal.
As I had never shot one of the African species, I was determined to follow
the Ceylon plan, and get as near as possible; therefore I continued to
creep from row to row of dhurra, until I at length stood at the very tail
of the elephant in the next row. I could easily have touched it with my
rifle, but just at this moment it either obtained my wind or it heard the
rustle of the men. It quickly turned its head half round toward me; in the
same instant I took the temple-shot, and by the flash of the rifle I saw
that it fell. Jumping forward past the huge body, I fired the left-hand
barrel at an elephant that had advanced from the herd; it fell
immediately! Now came the moment for a grand rush, as they stumbled in
confusion over the last fallen elephant, and jammed together in a dense
mass with their immense ears outspread, forming a picture of intense
astonishment! Where were my spare guns? Here was an excellent opportunity
to run in and floor them right and left!</p>
<p>Not a man was in sight! Everybody had bolted, and I stood in advance of
the dead elephant calling for my guns in vain. At length one of my fellows
came up, but it was too late. The fallen elephant in the herd had risen
from the ground, and they had all hustled off at a great pace, and were
gone. I had only bagged one elephant. Where was the valiant Bacheet—the
would-be Nimrod, who for the last three months had been fretting in
inactivity, and longing for the moment of action, when he had promised to
be my trusty gun-bearer? He was the last man to appear, and he only
ventured from his hiding-place in the high dhurra when assured of the
elephants' retreat. I was obliged to admonish the whole party by a little
physical treatment, and the gallant Bacheet returned with us to the
village, crestfallen and completely subdued. On the following day not a
vestige remained of the elephant, except the offal; the Arabs had not only
cut off the flesh, but they had hacked the skull and the bones in pieces,
and carried them off to boil down for soup.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER VI. </h2>
<p>Preparations for advance—Mek Nimmur makes a foray—The Hamran
elephant-hunters—In the haunts of the elephant—A desperate
charge.</p>
<p>The time was approaching when the grass throughout the country would be
sufficiently dry to be fired. We accordingly prepared for our expedition;
but it was first necessary for me to go to Katariff, sixty miles distant,
to engage men, and to procure a slave in place of old Masara, whose owner
would not trust her in the wild region we were about to visit.</p>
<p>I engaged six strong Tokrooris for five months, and purchased a slave
woman for thirty-five dollars. The name of the woman was Barrake. She was
about twenty-two years of age, brown in complexion, fat and strong, rather
tall, and altogether she was a fine, powerful-looking woman, but decidedly
not pretty. Her hair was elaborately dressed in hundreds of long narrow
curls, so thickly smeared with castor oil that the grease had covered her
naked shoulders. In addition to this, as she had been recently under the
hands of the hairdresser, there was an amount of fat and other nastiness
upon her head that gave her the appearance of being nearly gray.</p>
<p>Through the medium of Mahomet I explained to her that she was no longer a
slave, as I had purchased her freedom; that she would not even be
compelled to remain with us, but she could do as she thought proper; that
both her mistress and I should be exceedingly kind to her, and we would
subsequently find her a good situation in Cairo; in the mean time she
would receive good clothes and wages. This, Mahomet, much against his
will, was obliged to translate literally. The effect was magical; the
woman, who had looked frightened and unhappy, suddenly beamed with smiles,
and without any warning she ran toward me, and in an instant I found
myself embraced in her loving arms. She pressed me to her bosom, and
smothered me with castor-oily kisses, while her greasy ringlets hung upon
my face and neck. How long this entertainment would have lasted I cannot
tell, but I was obliged to cry "Caffa! Caffa!" (enough! enough!) as it
looked improper, and the perfumery was too rich. Fortunately my wife was
present, but she did not appear to enjoy it more than I did. My snow-white
blouse was soiled and greasy, and for the rest of the day I was a
disagreeable compound of smells—castor oil, tallow, musk,
sandal-wood, burnt shells, and Barrake.</p>
<p>Mahomet and Barrake herself, I believe, were the only people who really
enjoyed this little event. "Ha!" Mahomet exclaimed, "this is your own
fault! You insisted upon speaking kindly, and telling her that she is not
a slave; now she thinks that she is one of your WIVES!" This was the real
fact; the unfortunate ** Barrake ** had deceived herself. Never having
been free, she could not understand the use of freedom unless she was to
be a wife. She had understood my little address as a proposal, and of
course she was disappointed; but as an action for breach of promise cannot
be pressed in the Soudan, poor Barrake, although free, had not the happy
rights of a free-born Englishwoman, who can heal her broken heart with a
pecuniary plaster, and console herself with damages for the loss of a
lover.</p>
<p>We were ready to start, having our party of servants complete, six
Tokrooris—Moosa, Abdoolahi, Abderachman, Hassan, Adow, and Hadji
Ali, with Mahomet, Wat Gamma, Bacheet, Mahomet secundus (a groom), and
Barrake; total, eleven men and the cook.</p>
<p>When half way on our return from Katariff to Wat el Negur, we found the
whole country in alarm, Mek Nimmur having suddenly made a foray. He had
crossed the Atbara, plundered the district, and driven off large numbers
of cattle and camels, after having killed a considerable number of people.
No doubt the reports were somewhat exaggerated, but the inhabitants of the
district were flying from their villages with their herds, and were
flocking to Katariff. We arrived at Wat el Negur on the 3d of December,
and we now felt the advantage of our friendship with the good Sheik
Achmet, who, being a friend of Mek Nimmur, had saved our effects during
our absence. These would otherwise have been plundered, as the robbers had
paid him a visit. He had removed our tents and baggage to his own house
for protection. Not only had he thus protected our effects, but he had
taken the opportunity of delivering the polite message to Mek Nimmur that
I had entrusted to his charge—expressing a wish to pay him a visit
as a countryman and friend of Mr. Mansfield Parkyns, who had formerly been
so well received by his father.</p>
<p>My intention was to examine thoroughly all the great rivers of Abyssinia
that were tributaries to the Nile. These were the Settite, Royan, Angrab,
Salaam, Rahad, Dinder, and the Blue Nile. If possible, I should traverse
the Galla country, and crossing the Blue Nile, I should endeavor to reach
the White Nile. But this latter idea I subsequently found impracticable,
as it would have interfered with the proper season for my projected
journey up the White Nile in search of the sources. The Hamran Arabs were
at this time encamped about twenty-five miles from Wat el Negur. I sent a
messenger, accompanied by Mahomet, to the sheik, with the firman of the
Viceroy, requesting him to supply me with elephant hunters (aggageers).</p>
<p>During the absence of Mahomet I received a very polite message from Mek
Nimmur, accompanied by a present of twenty pounds of coffee, with an
invitation to pay him a visit. His country lay between the Settite River
and the Bahr Salaam; thus without his invitation I might have found it
difficult to traverse his territory. So far all went well. I returned my
salaams, and sent word that we intended to hunt through the ** Base **
country, after which we should have the honor of passing a few days with
him on our road to the river Salaam, at which place we intended to hunt
elephants and rhinoceroses.</p>
<p>Mahomet returned, accompanied by a large party of Hamran Arabs, including
several hunters, one of whom was Sheik Abou Do Roussoul, the nephew of
Sheik Owat. As his name in full was too long, he generally went by the
abbreviation "Abou Do." He was a splendid fellow, a little above six feet
one, with a light active figure, but exceedingly well-developed muscles.
His face was strikingly handsome; his eyes were like those of a giraffe,
but the sudden glance of an eagle lighted them up with a flash during the
excitement of conversation, which showed little of the giraffe's gentle
character. Abou Do was the only tall man of the party; the others were of
middle height, with the exception of a little fellow named Jali, who was
not above five feet four inches, but wonderfully muscular, and in
expression a regular daredevil.</p>
<p>There were two parties of hunters among the Hamran Arabs, one under Abou
Do, and the other consisting of four brothers Sherrif. The latter were the
most celebrated aggageers among the renowned tribe of the Hamran. Their
father and grandfather had been mighty Nimrods, and the broadswords
wielded by their strong arms had descended to the men who now upheld the
prestige of the ancient blades. The eldest was Taher Sherrif. His second
brother, Roder Sherrif, was a very small, active-looking man, with a
withered left arm. An elephant had at one time killed his horse, and on
the same occasion had driven its sharp tusk through the arm of the rider,
completely splitting the limb, and splintering the bone from the
elbow-joint to the wrist to such an extent that by degrees the fragments
had sloughed away, and the arm had become shrivelled and withered. It now
resembled a mass of dried leather twisted into a deformity, without the
slightest shape of an arm; this was about fourteen inches in length from
the shoulder. The stiff and crippled hand, with contracted fingers,
resembled the claw of a vulture.</p>
<p>In spite of his maimed condition, Roder Sherrif was the most celebrated
leader in the elephant hunt. His was the dangerous post to ride close to
the head of the infuriated animal and provoke the charge, and then to lead
the elephant in pursuit, while the aggageers attacked it from behind. It
was in the performance of this duty that he had met with the accident, as
his horse had fallen over some hidden obstacle and was immediately caught.
Being an exceedingly light weight he had continued to occupy this
important position in the hunt, and the rigid fingers of the left hand
served as a hook, upon which he could hang the reins.</p>
<p>My battery of rifles was now laid upon a mat for examination; they were in
beautiful condition, and they excited the admiration of the entire party.
The perfection of workmanship did not appear to interest them so much as
the size of the bores. They thrust their fingers down each muzzle, until
they at last came to the "Baby," when, finding that two fingers could be
easily introduced, they at once fell in love with that rifle in
particular.</p>
<p>On the 17th of August, accompanied by the German, Florian, we said good-by
to our kind friend Sheik Achmet and left Wat el Negur. At Geera, early at
daybreak, several Arabs arrived with a report that elephants had been
drinking in the river within half an hour's march of our sleeping-place. I
immediately started with my men, accompanied by Florian, and we shortly
arrived upon the tracks of the herd. I had three Hamran Arabs as trackers,
one of whom, Taher Noor, had engaged to accompany us throughout the
expedition.</p>
<p>For about eight miles we followed the spoor through high dried grass and
thorny bush, until we at length arrived at a dense jungle of kittar—the
most formidable of the hooked thorn mimosas. Here the tracks appeared to
wander, some elephants having travelled straight ahead, while others had
strayed to the right and left. For about two hours we travelled upon the
circuitous tracks of the elephants to no purpose, when we suddenly were
startled by the shrill trumpeting of one of these animals in the thick
thorns, a few hundred yards to our left. The ground was so intensely hard
and dry that it was impossible to distinguish the new tracks from the old,
which crossed and recrossed in all directions. I therefore decided to walk
carefully along the outskirts of the jungle, trusting to find their place
of entrance by the fresh broken boughs. In about an hour we had thus
examined two or three miles, without discovering a clew to their recent
path, when we turned round a clump of bushes, and suddenly came in view of
two grand elephants, standing at the edge of the dense thorns. Having our
wind, they vanished instantly into the thick jungle. We could not follow
them, as their course was down wind; we therefore made a circuit to
leeward for about a mile, and finding that the elephants had not crossed
in that direction, we felt sure that we must come upon them with the wind
in our favor should they still be within the thorny jungle. This was
certain, as it was their favorite retreat.</p>
<p>With the greatest labor I led the way, creeping frequently upon my hands
and knees to avoid the hooks of the kittar bush, and occasionally
listening for a sound. At length, after upward of an hour passed in this
slow and fatiguing advance, I distinctly heard the flap of an elephant's
ear, shortly followed by the deep guttural sigh of one of those animals,
within a few paces; but so dense was the screen of jungle that I could see
nothing. We waited for some minutes, but not the slightest sound could be
heard; the elephants were aware of danger, and they were, like ourselves,
listening attentively for the first intimation of an enemy.</p>
<p>This was a highly exciting moment. Should they charge, there would not be
a possibility of escape, as the hooked thorns rendered any sudden movement
almost impracticable. In another moment there was a tremendous crash; and
with a sound like a whirlwind the herd dashed through the crackling
jungle. I rushed forward, as I was uncertain whether they were in advance
or retreat. Leaving a small sample of my nose upon a kittar thorn, and
tearing my way, with naked arms, through what, in cold blood, would have
appeared impassable, I caught sight of two elephants leading across my
path, with the herd following in a dense mass behind them. Firing a shot
at the leading elephant, simply in the endeavor to check the herd, I
repeated with the left-hand barrel at the head of his companion. This
staggered him, and threw the main body into confusion. They immediately
closed up in a dense mass, and bore everything before them; but the herd
exhibited merely an impenetrable array of hind quarters wedged together so
firmly that it was impossible to obtain a head or shoulder shot.</p>
<p>I was within fifteen paces of them, and so compactly were they packed that
with all their immense strength they could not at once force so extensive
a front through the tough and powerful branches of the dense kittar. For
about half a minute they were absolutely checked, and they bored forward
with all their might in their determination to open a road through the
matted thorns. The elastic boughs, bent from their position, sprang back
with dangerous force, and would have fractured the skull of any one who
came within their sweep. A very large elephant was on the left flank, and
for an instant he turned obliquely to the left. I quickly seized the
opportunity and fired the "Baby," with an explosive shell, aimed far back
in the flank, trusting that it would penetrate beneath the opposite
shoulder. The recoil of the "Baby," loaded with ten drams of the strongest
powder and a half-pound shell, spun me round like a top. It was difficult
to say which was staggered the more severely, the elephant or myself.
However, we both recovered, and I seized one of my double rifles, a Reilly
No. 10, that was quickly pushed into my hand by my Tokroori, Hadji Ali.
This was done just in time, as an elephant from the battled herd turned
sharp round, and, with its immense ears cocked, charged down upon us with
a scream of rage. "One of us she must have if I miss!"</p>
<p>This was the first downright charge of an African elephant that I had
seen, and instinctively I followed my old Ceylon plan of waiting for a
close shot. She lowered her head when within about six yards, and I fired
low for the centre of the forehead, exactly in the swelling above the root
of the trunk. She collapsed to the shot, and fell dead, with a heavy
shock, upon the ground. At the same moment the thorny barrier gave way
before the pressure of the herd, and the elephants disappeared in the
thick jungle, through which it was impossible to follow them.</p>
<p>I had suffered terribly from the hooked thorns, and the men had likewise.
This had been a capital trial for my Tokrooris, who had behaved remarkably
well, and had gained much confidence by my successful forehead-shot at the
elephant when in full charge; but I must confess that this is the only
instance in which I have succeeded in killing an African elephant by the
front shot, although I have steadily tried the experiment upon subsequent
occasions.</p>
<p>We had very little time to examine the elephant, as we were far from home
and the sun was already low. I felt convinced that the other elephant
could not be far off, after having received the "Baby's" half-pound shell
carefully directed, and I resolved to return on the following morning with
many people and camels to divide the flesh. It was dark by the time we
arrived at the tents, and the news immediately spread through the Arab
camp that two elephants had been killed.</p>
<p>On the following morning we started, and upon arrival at the dead elephant
we followed the tracks of that wounded by the "Baby." The blood upon the
bushes guided us in a few minutes to the spot where the elephant lay dead,
at about three hundred yards' distance. The whole day passed in flaying
the two animals and cutting off the flesh, which was packed in large gum
sacks, with which the camels were loaded. I was curious to examine the
effect of the half-pound shell. It had entered the flank on the right
side, breaking the rib upon which it had exploded; it had then passed
through the stomach and the lower portion of the lungs, both of which were
terribly shattered; and breaking one of the fore-ribs on the left side, it
had lodged beneath the skin of the shoulder. This was irresistible work,
and the elephant had evidently dropped in a few minutes after having
received the shell.</p>
<p>A most interesting fact had occurred. I noticed an old wound unhealed and
full of matter in the front of the left shoulder. The bowels were shot
through, and were green in various places. Florian suggested that it must
be an elephant that I had wounded at Wat el Negur; we tracked the course
of the bullet most carefully, until we at length discovered my
unmistakable bullet of quicksilver and lead, almost uninjured, in the
fleshy part of the thigh, imbedded in an unhealed wound. Thus, by a
curious chance, upon my first interview with African elephants by
daylight, I had killed the identical elephant that I had wounded at Wat el
Negur forty-three days before in the dhurra plantation, twenty-eight miles
distant!</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER VII. </h2>
<p>The start from Geera—Feats of horsemanship—A curious chase—Abou
Do wins a race—Capturing a young buffalo—Our island camp—Tales
of the Base.</p>
<p>We started from Geera on the 23d of December, with our party complete. The
Hamran sword-hunters were Abou Do, Jali, and Suleiman. My chief tracker
was Taher Noor, who, although a good hunter, was not a professional
aggahr, and I was accompanied by the father of Abou Do, who was a renowned
"howarti" or harpooner of hippopotami. This magnificent old man might have
been Neptune himself. He stood about six feet two, and his grizzled locks
hung upon his shoulders in thick, and massive curls, while his deep bronze
features could not have been excelled in beauty of outline. A more
classical figure I have never beheld than the old Abou Do with his harpoon
as he first breasted the torrent, and then landed dripping from the waves
to join our party from the Arab camp on the opposite side of the river. In
addition to my Tokrooris, I had engaged nine camels, each with a separate
driver, of the Hamrans, who were to accompany us throughout the
expedition. These people were glad to engage themselves, with their camels
included, at one and a half dollars per month, for man and beast as one.
We had not sufficient baggage to load five camels, but four carried a
large supply of corn for our horses and people.</p>
<p>Hardly were we mounted and fairly started than the monkey-like agility of
our aggageers was displayed in a variety of antics, that were far more
suited to performances in a circus than to a party of steady and
experienced hunters, who wished to reserve the strength of their horses
for a trying journey.</p>
<p>Abou Do was mounted on a beautiful Abyssinian horse, a gray; Suleiman rode
a rough and inferior-looking beast; while little Jali, who was the pet of
the party, rode a gray snare, not exceeding fourteen hands in height,
which matched her rider exactly in fire, spirit, and speed. Never was
there a more perfect picture of a wild Arab horseman than Jali on his
mare. Hardly was he in the saddle than away flew the mare over the loose
shingles that formed the dry bed of the river, scattering the rounded
pebbles in the air from her flinty Hoofs, while her rider in the vigour of
delight threw himself almost under her belly while at full speed, and
picked up stones from the ground, which he flung, and again caught as they
descended. Never were there more complete Centaurs than these Hamran
Arabs; the horse and man appeared to be one animal, and that of the most
elastic nature, that could twist and turn with the suppleness of a snake.
The fact of their being separate beings was well proved, however, by the
rider's springing to the earth with his drawn sword while the horse was in
full gallop over rough and difficult ground, and, clutching the mane,
again vaulting into the saddle with the ability of a monkey, without once
checking the speed. The fact of being on horseback had suddenly altered
the character of these Arabs; from a sedate and proud bearing, they had
become the wildest examples of the most savage disciples of Nimrod.
Excited by enthusiasm, they shook their naked blades aloft till the steel
trembled in their grasp, and away they dashed over rocks, through thorny
bush, across ravines, up and down steep inclinations, engaging in a mimic
hunt, and going through the various acts supposed to occur in the attack
of a furious elephant. I must acknowledge that, in spite of my admiration
for their wonderful dexterity, I began to doubt their prudence. I had
three excellent horses for my wife and myself; the Hamran hunters had only
one for each, and if the commencement were an example of their usual style
of horsemanship, I felt sure that a dozen horses would not be sufficient
for the work before us. However, it was not the moment to offer advice, as
they were simply mad with excitement and delight.</p>
<p>The women raised their loud and shrill yell at parting, and our party of
about twenty-five persons, with nine camels, six horses, and two donkeys,
exclusive of the German, Florian, with his kicking giraffe-hunter, and
attendants, ascended the broken slope that formed the broad valley of the
Settite River.</p>
<p>There was very little game in the neighbourhood, as it was completely
overrun by the Arabs and their flocks, and we were to march about fifty
miles east-south-east before we should arrive in the happy hunting-grounds
of the Base country, where we were led to expect great results.</p>
<p>In a day's march through a beautiful country, sometimes upon the high
table-land to cut off a bend in the river, at other times upon the margin
of the stream in the romantic valley, broken into countless hills and
ravines covered with mimosas, we arrived at Ombrega (mother of the thorn),
about twenty-four miles from Geera. We soon arranged a resting-place, and
cleared away the grass that produced the thorn which had given rise to the
name of Ombrega, and in a short time we were comfortably settled for the
night. We were within fifty yards of the river, the horses were
luxuriating in the green grass that grew upon its banks, and the camels
were hobbled, to prevent them from wandering from the protection of the
camp-fires, as we were now in the wilderness, where the Base by day and
the lion and leopard by night were hostile to man and beast.</p>
<p>We were fast asleep a little after midnight, when we were awakened by the
loud barking of the dogs, and by a confusion in the camp. Jumping up on
the instant, I heard the dogs, far away in the dark jungles, barking in
different directions. One of the goats was gone! A leopard had sprung into
the camp, and had torn a goat from its fastening, although tied to a peg,
between two men, close to a large fire. The dogs had given chase; but, as
usual in such cases, they were so alarmed as to be almost useless. We
quickly collected firebrands and searched the jungles, and shortly we
arrived where a dog was barking violently. Near this spot we heard the
moaning of some animal among the bushes, and upon a search with firebrands
we discovered the goat, helpless upon the ground, with its throat
lacerated by the leopard. A sudden cry from the dog at a few yards'
distance, and the barking ceased.</p>
<p>The goat was carried to the camp where it shortly died. We succeeded in
recalling two of the dogs, but the third, which was the best, was missing,
having been struck by the leopard. We searched for the body in vain, and
concluded that it had been carried off.</p>
<p>The country that we now traversed was so totally uninhabited that it was
devoid of all footprints of human beings; even the sand by the river's
side, that, like the snow, confessed every print, was free from all traces
of man. The Bas-e were evidently absent from our neighbourhood.</p>
<p>We had several times disturbed antelopes during the early portion of the
march, and we had just ascended from the rugged slopes of the valley, when
we observed a troop of about 100 baboons, which were gathering gum-arabic
from the mimosas; upon seeing us, they immediately waddled off. "Would the
lady like to have a girrit (baboon)?" exclaimed the ever-excited Jali.
Being answered in the affirmative, away dashed the three hunters in full
gallop after the astonished apes, who, finding themselves pursued, went
off at their best speed. The ground was rough, being full of broken
hollows, covered scantily with mimosas, and the stupid baboons, instead of
turning to the right into the rugged and steep valley of the Settite,
where they would have been secure from the aggageers, kept a straight
course before the horses. It was a curious hunt. Some of the very young
baboons were riding on their mother's backs; these were now going at their
best pace, holding onto their maternal steeds, and looking absurdly humans
but in a few minutes, as we closely followed the Arabs, we were all in the
midst of the herd, and with great dexterity two of the aggageers, while at
full speed, stooped like falcons from their saddles, and seized each a
half-grown ape by the back of the neck, and hoisted them upon the necks of
the horses. Instead of biting, as I had expected, the astonished captives
sat astride of the horses, and clung tenaciously with both arms to the
necks of their steeds, screaming with fear.</p>
<p>The hunt was over, and we halted to secured the prisoners. Dismounting, to
my surprise the Arabs immediately stripped from a mimosa several thongs of
bark, and having tied the baboons by the neck, they gave them a merciless
whipping with their powerful coorbatches of hippopotamus hide. It was in
vain that I remonstrated against this harsh treatment; they persisted in
the punishment. Otherwise they declared that the baboons would bite, but
if well-whipped they would become "miskeen"(humble). At length by wife
insisted upon mercy, and the unfortunate captives wore an expression of
countenance like prisoners about to be led to execution, and they looked
imploringly at our faces, in which they evidently discovered some sympathy
with their fate. They were quickly placed on horseback before their
captors, and once more we continued our journey, highly amused with the
little entr' acte.</p>
<p>We had hardly ridden half a mile when I perceived a fine bull tetel
standing near a bush a few hundred yards distant. Motioning to the party
to halt, I dismounted, and with that the little Fletcher rifle I
endeavored to obtain a shot. When within about a hundred and seventy
yards, he observed our party, and I was obliged to take the shot, although
I could have approached unseen to a closer distance, had his attention not
been attracted by the noise of the horses. He threw his head up
preparatory to starting off, and he was just upon the move as I touched
the trigger. He fell like a stone to the shot, but almost immediately he
regained his feet and bounded off, receiving a bullet from the second
barrel without a flinch. In full speed he rushed away across the party of
aggageers about three hundred yards distant.</p>
<p>Out dashed Abou Do from the ranks on his active gray horse, and away he
flew after the wounded tetel, his long hair floating in the wind, his
naked sword in hand, and his heels digging into the flanks of his horse,
as though armed with spurs in the last finish of a race. It was a
beautiful course. Abou Do hunted like a cunning greyhound; the tetel
turned, and, taking advantage of the double, he cut off the angle;
succeeding by the manoeuvre, he again followed at tremendous speed over
the numerous inequalities of the ground, gaining in the race until he was
within twenty yards of the tetel, when we lost sight of both game and
hunter in the thick bushes. By this time I had regained my horse, that was
brought to meet me, and I followed to the spot, toward which my wife and
the aggageers, encumbered with the unwilling apes, were already hastening.
Upon arrival I found, in high yellow grass beneath a large tree, the tetel
dead, and Abou Do wiping his bloody sword, surrounded by the foremost of
the party. He had hamstrung the animal so delicately that the keen edge of
the blade was not injured against the bone. My two bullets had passed
through the tetel. The first was too high, having entered above the
shoulder—this had dropped the animal for a moment; the second was
through the flank.</p>
<p>The Arabs now tied the baboons to trees, and employed themselves in
carefully skinning the tetel so as to form a sack from the hide. They had
about half finished the operation, when we were disturbed by a peculiar
sound at a considerable distance in the jungle, which, being repeated, we
knew to be the cry of buffaloes. In an instant the tetel was neglected,
the aggageers mounted their horses, and leaving my wife with a few men to
take charge of the game, accompanied by Florian we went in search of the
buffaloes. This part of the country was covered with grass about nine feet
high, that was reduced to such extreme dryness that the stems broke into
several pieces like glass as we brushed through it. The jungle was open,
composed of thorny mimosas at such wide intervals that a horse could be
ridden at considerable speed if accustomed to the country. Altogether it
was the perfection of ground for shooting, and the chances were in favour
of the rifle.</p>
<p>We had proceeded carefully about half a mile when I heard a rustling in
the grass, and I shortly perceived a bull buffalo standing alone beneath a
tree, close to the sandy bed of a dried stream, which was about a hundred
yards distant, between us and the animal. The grass had been entirely
destroyed by the trampling of a large herd. I took aim at the shoulder
with one of my No. 10 Reilly rifles, and the buffalo rushed forward at the
shot, and fell about a hundred paces beyond in the bush. At the report of
the shot, the herd, that we had not observed, which had been lying upon
the sandy bed of the stream, rushed past us with a sound like thunder, in
a cloud of dust raised by several hundreds of large animals in full
gallop. I could hardly see them distinctly, and I waited for a good
chance, when presently a mighty bull separated from the rest, and gave me
a fair shoulder-shot. I fired a little too forward, and missed the
shoulder; but I made a still better shot by mistake, as the Reilly bullet
broke the spine through the neck, and dropped him dead. Florian, poor
fellow, had not the necessary tools for the work, and one of his light
guns produced no effect.</p>
<p>Now came the time for the aggageers. Away dashed Jali op his fiery mare,
closely followed by Abou Do and Suleiman, who in a few instants were
obscured in the cloud of dust raised by the retreating buffaloes. As soon
as I could mount my horse that had been led behind me, I followed at full
speed, and, spurring hard, I shortly came in sight of the three aggageers,
not only in the dust, but actually among the rear buffaloes of the herd.
Suddenly, Jali almost disappeared from the saddle as he leaned forward
with a jerk and seized a fine young buffalo by the tail. In a moment Abou
Do and Suleiman sprang from their horses, and I arrived just in time to
assist them in securing a fine little bull about twelve hands high, whose
horns were six or seven inches long. A pretty fight we had with the young
Hercules. The Arabs stuck to him like bulldogs, in spite of his tremendous
struggles, and Florian, with other men, shortly arriving, we secured him
by lashing his legs together with our belts until impromptu ropes could be
made with mimosa bark.</p>
<p>I now returned to the spot where we had left my wife and the tetel. I
found her standing about fifty yards from the spot with a double rifle
cocked, awaiting an expected charge from one of the buffaloes that,
separated from the herd, had happened to rush in her direction.</p>
<p>Mahomet had been in an awful fright, and was now standing secure behind
his mistress. I rode through the grass with the hope of getting a shot,
but the animal had disappeared. We returned to the dead tetel and to our
captive baboons; but times had changed since we had left them. One had
taken advantage of our absence, and, having bitten through his tether, had
escaped. The other had used force instead of cunning, and, in attempting
to tear away from confinement, had strangled himself with the slip-knot of
the rope.</p>
<p>We now pushed ahead, and at 5 P.M. we arrived at the spot on the margin of
the Settite River at which we were to encamp for some time. For many miles
on either side the river was fringed with dense groves of the green
nabbuk, but upon the east bank an island had been formed of about three
hundred acres. This was a perfect oasis of verdure, covered with large
nabbuk trees, about thirty feet high, and forming a mixture of the densest
coverts, with small open glades of rich but low herbage. To reach this
island, upon which we were to encamp, it was necessary to cross the arm of
the river, that was now dry, with the exception of deep pools, in one of
which we perceived a large bull buffalo drinking, just as we descended the
hill. As this would be close to the larder, I stalked to within ninety
yards, and fired a Reilly No. 10 into his back, as his head inclined to
the water. For the moment he fell upon his knees, but recovering
immediately, he rushed up the steep bank of the island, receiving the ball
from my left-hand barrel between his shoulders, and disappeared in the
dense covert of green nabbuk on the margin. As we were to camp within a
few yards of the spot, he was close to home; therefore, having crossed the
river, we carefully followed the blood tracks through the jungle. But,
after having pushed our way for about twenty paces through the dense
covert, I came to the wise conclusion that it was not the place for
following a wounded buffalo, and that we should find him dead on the next
morning.</p>
<p>A few yards upon our right hand was a beautiful open glade, commanding a
view of the river, and surrounded by the largest nabbuk trees, that
afforded a delightful shade in the midst of the thick covert. This was a
spot that in former years had been used by the aggageers as a camp, and we
accordingly dismounted and turned the horses to graze upon the welcome
grass. Each horse was secured to a peg by a long leathern thong, as the
lions in this neighbourhood were extremely dangerous, having the advantage
of thick and opaque jungle.</p>
<p>We employed ourselves until the camels should arrive in cutting thorn
branches and constructing a zareeba or fenced camp, to protect our animals
during the night from the attack of wild beasts. I also hollowed out a
thick green bush to form an arbour, as a retreat during the heat of the
day, and in a short space of time we were prepared for the reception of
the camels and effects. The river had cast up immense stores of dry wood;
this we had collected, and by the time the camels arrived with the
remainder of our party after dark, huge fires were blazing high in air,
the light of which had guided them direct to our camp. They were heavily
laden with meat, which is the Arab's great source of happiness; therefore
in a few minutes the whole party was busily employed in cutting the flesh
into long thin strips to dry. These were hung in festoons over the
surrounding trees, while the fires were heaped with tidbits of all
descriptions. I had chosen a remarkably snug position for ourselves; the
two angareps (stretchers) were neatly arranged in the middle of a small
open space free from overhanging boughs; near these blazed a large fire,
upon which were roasting a row of marrow-bones of buffalo and tetel, while
the table was spread with a clean cloth and arranged for dinner.</p>
<p>The woman Barrak, who had discovered with regret that she was not a wife
but a servant, had got over the disappointment, and was now making dhurra
cakes upon the doka. This is a round earthenware tray about eighteen
inches in diameter, which, supported upon three stones or lumps of earth,
over a fire of glowing embers, forms a hearth. Slices of liver, well
peppered with cayenne and salt, were grilling on the gridiron, and we were
preparing to dine, when a terrific roar within a hundred and fifty yards
informed us that a lion was also thinking of dinner. A confusion of
tremendous roars proceeding from several lions followed the first round,
and my aggageers quietly remarked, "There is no danger for the horses
tonight; the lions have found your wounded buffalo!"</p>
<p>Such a magnificent chorus of bass voices I had never heard. The jungle
cracked, as with repeated roars they dragged the carcass of the buffalo
through the thorns to the spot where they intended to devour it. That
which was music to our ears was discord to those of Mahomet, who with
terror in his face came to us and exclaimed, "Master, what's that? What
for master and the missus come to this bad country? That's one bad kind
will eat the missus in the night! Perhaps he come and eat Mahomet!" This
afterthought was too much for him, and Bacheet immediately comforted him
by telling the most horrible tales of death and destruction that had been
wrought by lions, until the nerves of Mahomet were completely unhinged.</p>
<p>This was a signal for story-telling, when suddenly the aggageers changed
the conversation by a few tales of the Bas-e natives, which so thoroughly
eclipsed the dangers of wild beasts that in a short time the entire party
would almost have welcomed a lion, provided he would have agreed to
protect them from the Bas-e. In this very spot where we were then camped,
a party of Arab hunters had, two years previous, been surprised at night
and killed by the Bas-e, who still boasted of the swords that they
possessed as spoils from that occasion. The Bas-e knew this spot as the
favorite resting-place of the Hamran hunting-parties, and they might be
not far distant NOW, as we were in the heart of their country. This
intelligence was a regular damper to the spirits of some of the party.
Mahomet quietly retired and sat down by Barrak, the ex-slave woman, having
expressed a resolution to keep awake every hour that he should be
compelled to remain in that horrible country. The lions roared louder and
louder, but no one appeared to notice such small thunder; all thoughts
were fixed upon the Bas-e, so thoroughly had the aggageers succeeded in
frightening not only Mahomet, but also our Tokrooris.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER VIII. </h2>
<p>The elephant trumpets—Fighting an elephant with swords—The
forehead-shot—Elephants in a panic—A superb old Neptune—The
harpoon reaches its aim—Death of the hippopotamus—Tramped by
an elephant.</p>
<p>The aggageers started before daybreak in search of elephants. They soon
returned, and reported the fresh tracks of a herd, and begged me to lose
no time in accompanying them, as the elephants might retreat to a great
distance. There was no need for this advice. In a few minutes my horse
Tetel was saddled, and my six Tokrooris and Bacheet, with spare rifles,
were in attendance. Bacheet, who had so ingloriously failed in his first
essay at Wat el Negur, had been so laughed at by the girls of the village
for his want of pluck that he had declared himself ready to face the devil
rather than the ridicule of the fair sex; and, to do him justice, he
subsequently became a first-rate lad in moments of danger.</p>
<p>The aggageers were quickly mounted. It was a sight most grateful to a
sportsman to witness the start of these superb hunters, who with the
sabres slung from the saddle-bow, as though upon an every-day occasion,
now left the camp with these simple weapons, to meet the mightiest animal
of creation in hand-to-hand conflict. The horses' hoofs clattered as we
descended the shingly beach, and forded the river shoulder-deep, through
the rapid current, while those on foot clung to the manes of the horses
and to the stirrup-leathers to steady themselves over the loose stones
beneath.</p>
<p>Tracking was very difficult. As there was a total absence of rain, it was
next to impossible to distinguish the tracks of two days' date from those
most recent upon the hard and parched soil. The only positive clew was the
fresh dung of the elephants, and this being deposited at long intervals
rendered the search extremely tedious. The greater part of the day passed
in useless toil, and, after fording the river backward and forward several
times, we at length arrived at a large area of sand in the bend of the
stream, that was evidently overflowed when the river was full. This
surface of many acres was backed by a forest of large trees. Upon arrival
at this spot the aggageers, who appeared to know every inch of the
country, declared that, unless the elephants had gone far away, they must
be close at hand, within the forest. We were speculating upon the
direction of the wind, when we were surprised by the sudden trumpeting of
an elephant, that proceeded from the forest already declared to be the
covert of the herd. In a few minutes later a fine bull elephant marched
majestically from the jungle upon the large area of sand, and proudly
stalked direct toward the river.</p>
<p>At that time we were stationed under cover of a high bank of sand that had
been left by the retiring river in sweeping round an angle. We immediately
dismounted, and remained well concealed. The question of attack was
quickly settled. The elephant was quietly stalking toward the water, which
was about three hundred paces distant from the jungle. This intervening
space was heavy dry sand, that had been thrown up by the stream in the
sudden bend of the river, which, turning from this point at a right angle,
swept beneath a perpendicular cliff of conglomerate rock formed of rounded
pebbles cemented together.</p>
<p>I proposed that we should endeavor to stalk the elephant, by creeping
along the edge of the river, under cover of a sand-bank about three feet
high, and that, should the rifles fail, the aggageers should come on at
full gallop and cut off his retreat from the jungle; we should then have a
chance for the swords.</p>
<p>Accordingly I led the way, followed by Hadji Ali, my head Tokroori, with a
rifle, while I carried the "Baby." Florian accompanied us. Having the wind
fair, we advanced quickly for about half the distance, at which time we
were within a hundred and fifty yards of the elephant, who had just
arrived at the water and had commenced drinking. We now crept cautiously
toward him. The sand-bank had decreased to a height of about two feet, and
afforded very little shelter. Not a tree or bush grew upon the surface of
the barren sand, which was so deep that we sank nearly to the ankles at
every footstep. Still we crept forward, as the elephant alternately drank
and then spouted the water in a shower over his colossal form; but just as
we arrived within about fifty yards he happened to turn his head in our
direction, and immediately perceived us. He cocked his enormous ears, gave
a short trumpeting, and for an instant wavered in his determination
whether to attack or fly; but as I rushed toward him with a shout, he
turned toward the jungle, and I immediately fired a steady shot at the
shoulder with the "Baby." As usual, the fearful recoil of the rifle, with
a half-pound shell and twelve drams of powder, nearly threw me backward;
but I saw the mark upon the elephant's shoulder, in an excellent line,
although rather high. The only effect of the shot was to send him off at
great speed toward the jungle. At the same moment the three aggageers came
galloping across the sand like greyhounds in a course, and, judiciously
keeping parallel with the jungle, they cut off his retreat, and, turning
toward the elephant, confronted him, sword in hand.</p>
<p>At once the furious beast charged straight at the enemy. But now came the
very gallant but foolish part of the hunt. Instead of leading the elephant
by the flight of one man and horse, according to their usual method, all
the aggageers at the same moment sprang from their saddles, and upon foot
in the heavy sand they attacked the elephant with their swords.</p>
<p>In the way of sport I never saw anything so magnificent or so absurdly
dangerous. No gladiatorial exhibition in the Roman arena could have
surpassed this fight. The elephant was mad with rage, and nevertheless he
seemed to know that the object of the hunters was to get behind him. This
he avoided with great dexterity, turning as it were upon a pivot with
extreme quickness, and charging headlong, first at one and then at another
of his assailants, while he blew clouds of sand in the air with his trunk,
and screamed with fury. Nimble as monkeys, nevertheless the aggageers
could not get behind him. In the folly of excitement they had forsaken
their horses, which had escaped from the spot. The depth of the loose sand
was in favor of the elephant, and was so much against the men that they
avoided his charges with extreme difficulty. It was only by the determined
pluck of all three that they alternately saved each other, as two
invariably dashed in at the flanks when the elephant charged the third,
upon which the wary animal immediately relinquished the chase and turned
round upon his pursuers. During this time I had been laboring through the
heavy sand, and shortly after I arrived at the fight the elephant charged
directly through the aggageers, receiving a shoulder-shot from one of my
Reilly No. 10 rifles, and at the same time a slash from the sword of Abou
Do, who with great dexterity and speed had closed in behind him, just in
time to reach the leg. Unfortunately, he could not deliver the cut in the
right place, as the elephant, with increased speed, completely distanced
the aggageers, then charged across the deep sand and reached the jungle.
We were shortly upon his tracks, and after running about a quarter of a
mile he fell dead in a dry watercourse. His tusks were, like those of most
Abyssinian elephants, exceedingly short, but of good thickness.</p>
<p>Some of our men, who had followed the runaway horses, shortly returned and
reported that during our fight with the bull they had heard other
elephants trumpeting in the dense nabbuk jungle near the river. We all
dismounted, and sent the horses to a considerable distance, lest they
should by some noise disturb the elephants. We shortly heard a crackling
in the jungle on our right, and Jali assured us that, as he had expected,
the elephants were slowly advancing along the jungle on the bank of the
river, and would pass exactly before us. We waited patiently in the bed of
the river, and the crackling in the jungle sounded closer as the herd
evidently approached. The strip of thick thorny covert that fringed the
margin was in no place wider than half a mile; beyond that the country was
open and park-like, but at this season it was covered with parched grass
from eight to ten feet high. The elephants would, therefore, most probably
remain in the jungle until driven out.</p>
<p>In about a quarter of an hour we knew by the noise in the jungle, about a
hundred yards from the river, that the elephants were directly opposite to
us. I accordingly instructed Jali to creep quietly by himself into the
bush and to bring me information of their position. To this he at once
agreed.</p>
<p>In three or four minutes he returned. He declared it impossible to use the
sword, as the jungle was so dense that it would check the blow; but that I
could use the rifle, as the elephants were close to us—he had seen
three standing together, between us and the main body of the herd. I told
Jali to lead me directly to the spot, and, followed by Florian and the
aggageers, with my gun-bearers, I kept within a foot of my dependable
little guide, who crept gently into the jungle. This was exceedingly
thick, and quite impenetrable, except in the places where elephants and
other heavy animals had trodden numerous alleys. Along one of these narrow
passages we stealthily advanced, until Jali stepped quietly on one side
and pointed with his finger. I immediately observed two elephants looming
through the thick bushes about eight paces from me. One offered a
temple-shot, which I quickly took with a Reilly No. 10, and floored it on
the spot. The smoke hung so thickly that I could not see distinctly enough
to fire my second barrel before the remaining elephant had turned; but
Florian, with a three-ounce steel-tipped bullet, by a curious shot at the
hind-quarters, injured the hip joint to such an extent that we could more
than equal the elephant in speed.</p>
<p>In a few moments we found ourselves in a small open glade in the middle of
the jungle, close to the stern of the elephant we were following. I had
taken a fresh rifle, with both barrels loaded, and hardly had I made the
exchange when the elephant turned suddenly and charged. Determined to try
fairly the forehead-shot, I kept my ground, and fired a Reilly No. 10,
quicksilver and lead bullet, exactly in the centre, when certainly within
four yards. The only effect was to make her stagger backward, when, in
another moment, with her immense ears thrown forward, she again rushed on.
This was touch-and-go; but I fired my remaining barrel a little lower than
the first shot. Checked in her rush, she backed toward the dense jungle,
throwing her trunk about and trumpeting with rage. Snatching the Ceylon
No. 10 from one of my trusty Tokrooris (Hassan), I ran straight at her,
took a most deliberate aim at the forehead, and once more fired. The only
effect was a decisive charge; but before I fired my last barrel Jali
rushed in, and, with one blow of his sharp sword, severed the back sinew.
She was utterly helpless in the same instant. Bravo, Jali! I had fired
three beautifully correct shots with No. 10 bullets and seven drams of
powder in each charge. These were so nearly together that they occupied a
space in her forehead of about three inches, and all had failed to kill!
There could no longer be any doubt that the forehead-shot at an African
elephant could not be relied upon, although so fatal to the Indian
species. This increased the danger tenfold, as in Ceylon I had generally
made certain of an elephant by steadily waiting until it was close upon
me.</p>
<p>I now reloaded my rifles, and the aggageers quitted the jungle to remount
their horses, as they expected the herd had broken cover on the other side
of the jungle, in which case they intended to give chase, and, if
possible, to turn them back into the covert and drive them toward the
guns. We accordingly took our stand in the small open glade, and I lent
Florian one of my double rifles, as he was only provided with one
single-barrelled elephant gun. I did not wish to destroy the prestige of
the rifles by hinting to the aggageers that it would be rather awkward for
us to receive the charge of the infuriated herd, as the foreheads were
invulnerable; but inwardly I rather hoped that they would not come so
directly upon our position as the aggageers wished.</p>
<p>About a quarter of an hour passed in suspense, when we suddenly heard a
chorus of wild cries of excitement on the other side of the jungle, raised
by the aggageers, who had headed the herd and were driving them back
toward us. In a few minutes a tremendous crashing in the jungle,
accompanied by the occasional shrill scream of a savage elephant and the
continued shouts of the mounted aggageers, assured us that they were
bearing down exactly upon our direction. They were apparently followed
even through the dense jungle by the wild and reckless Arabs. I called my
men close together, told them to stand fast and hand me the guns quickly,
and we eagerly awaited the onset that rushed toward us like a storm.</p>
<p>On they came, tearing everything before them. For a moment the jungle
quivered and crashed; a second later, and, headed by an immense elephant,
the herd thundered down upon us. The great leader came directly at me, and
was received with right and left in the forehead from a Reilly No. 10 as
fast as I could pull the triggers. The shock made it reel backward for an
instant, and fortunately turned it and the herd likewise. My second rifle
was beautifully handed, and I made a quick right and left at the temples
of two fine elephants, dropping them both stone dead. At this moment the
"Baby" was pushed into my hand by Hadji Ali just in time to take the
shoulder of the last of the herd, who had already charged headlong after
his comrades and was disappearing in the jungle. Bang! went the "Baby;"
round I spun like a weathercock, with the blood pouring from my nose, as
the recoil had driven the sharp top of the hammer deep into the bridge. My
"Baby" not only screamed, but kicked viciously. However, I knew that the
elephant must be bagged, as the half-pound shell had been aimed directly
behind the shoulder.</p>
<p>In a few minutes the aggageers arrived. They were bleeding from countless
scratches, as, although naked with the exception of short drawers, they
had forced their way on horseback through the thorny path cleft by the
herd in rushing through the jungle. Abou Do had blood upon his sword. They
had found the elephants commencing a retreat to the interior of the
country, and they had arrived just in time to turn them. Following them at
full speed, Abou Do had succeeded in overtaking and slashing the sinew of
an elephant just as it was entering the jungle. Thus the aggageers had
secured one, in addition to Florian's elephant that had been slashed by
Jali. We now hunted for the "Baby's" elephant, which was almost
immediately discovered lying dead within a hundred and fifty yards of the
place where it had received the shot. The shell had entered close to the
shoulder, and it was extraordinary that an animal should have been able to
travel so great a distance with a wound through the lungs by a shell that
had exploded within the body.</p>
<p>We had done pretty well. I had been fortunate in bagging four from this
herd, in addition to the single bull in the morning; total, five. Florian
had killed one and the aggageers one; total, seven elephants. One had
escaped that I had wounded in the shoulder, and two that had been wounded
by Florian. The aggageers were delighted, and they determined to search
for the wounded elephants on the following day, as the evening was
advancing, and we were about five miles from camp.</p>
<p>At daybreak the next morning the aggageers in high glee mounted their
horses, and with a long retinue of camels and men, provided with axes and
knives, together with large gum sacks to contain the flesh, they quitted
the camp to cut up the numerous elephants. As I had no taste for this
disgusting work, I took two of my Tokrooris, Hadji Ali and Hassan, and,
accompanied by old Abou Do, the father of the sheik, with his harpoon, we
started along the margin of the river in quest of hippopotami.</p>
<p>The harpoon for hippopotamus and crocodile hunting is a piece of soft
steel about eleven inches long, with a narrow blade or point of about
three quarters of an inch in width and a single but powerful barb. To this
short and apparently insignificant weapon a strong rope is secured, about
twenty feet in length, at the extremity of which is a buoy or float, as
large as a child's head, formed of an extremely light wood called ambatch
(Aanemone mirabilis) that is of about half the specific gravity of cork.
The extreme end of the short harpoon is fixed in the point of a bamboo
about ten feet long, around which the rope is twisted, while the buoy end
is carried in the left hand.</p>
<p>The old Abou Do, being resolved upon work, had divested himself of his
tope or toga before starting, according to the general custom of the
aggageers, who usually wear a simple piece of leather wound round the
loins when hunting; but, I believe in respect for our party, they had
provided themselves with a garment resembling bathing drawers, such as are
worn in France, Germany, and other civilized countries. But the old Abou
Do had resisted any such innovation, and he accordingly appeared with
nothing on but his harpoon; and a more superb old Neptune I never beheld.
He carried this weapon in his hand, as the trident with which the old
sea-god ruled the monsters of the deep; and as the tall Arab patriarch of
threescore years and ten, with his long gray locks flowing over his brawny
shoulders, stepped as lightly as a goat from rock to rock along the rough
margin of the river, I followed him in admiration.</p>
<p>After walking about two miles we noticed a herd of hippopotami in a pool
below a rapid. This was surrounded by rocks, except upon one side, where
the rush of water had thrown up a bank of pebbles and sand. Our old
Neptune did not condescend to bestow the slightest attention when I
pointed out these animals; they were too wide awake; but he immediately
quitted the river's bed, and we followed him quietly behind the fringe of
bushes upon the border, from which we carefully examined the water.</p>
<p>About half a mile below this spot, as we clambered over the intervening
rocks through a gorge which formed a powerful rapid, I observed, in a
small pool just below the rapid, the immense head of a hippopotamus close
to a perpendicular rock that formed a wall to the river, about six feet
above the surface. I pointed out the hippo to old Abou Do, who had not
seen it. At once the gravity of the old Arab disappeared, and the energy
of the hunter was exhibited as he motioned us to remain, while he ran
nimbly behind the thick screen of bushes for about a hundred and fifty
yards below the spot where the hippo was unconsciously basking, with his
ugly head above the surface. Plunging into the rapid torrent, the veteran
hunter was carried some distance down the stream; but, breasting the
powerful current, he landed upon the rocks on the opposite side, and,
retiring to some distance from the river, he quickly advanced toward the
spot beneath which the hippopotamus was lying. I had a fine view of the
scene, as I was lying concealed exactly opposite the hippo, who had
disappeared beneath the water.</p>
<p>Abou Do now stealthily approached the ledge of rock beneath which he had
expected to see the head of the animal. His long, sinewy arm was raised,
with the harpoon ready to strike, as he carefully advanced. At length he
reached the edge of the perpendicular rock. The hippo had vanished, but,
far from exhibiting surprise, the old Arab remained standing on the sharp
edge, unchanged in attitude. No figure of bronze could have been more
rigid than that of the old river-king as he stood erect upon the rock with
the left foot advanced and the harpoon poised in his ready right hand
above his head, while in the left he held the loose coils of rope attached
to the ambatch buoy. For about three minutes he stood like a statue,
gazing intently into the clear and deep water beneath his feet. I watched
eagerly for the reappearance of the hippo; the surface of the water was
still barren, when suddenly the right arm of the statue descended like
lightning, and the harpoon shot perpendicularly into the pool with the
speed of an arrow. What river-fiend answered to the summons? In an instant
an enormous pair of open jaws appeared, followed by the ungainly head and
form of the furious hippopotamus, who, springing half out of the water,
lashed the river into foam, and, disdaining the concealment of the deep
pool, charged straight up the violent rapids. With extraordinary power he
breasted the descending stream, gaining a footing in the rapids, about
five feet deep. He ploughed his way against the broken waves, sending them
in showers of spray upon all sides, and, upon gaining broader shallows,
tore along through the water, with the buoyant float hopping behind him
along the surface, until he landed from the river, started at full gallop
along the dry shingly bed, and at length disappeared in the thorny nabbuk
jungle.</p>
<p>I never could have imagined that so unwieldy an animal could have
exhibited such speed; no man would have had a chance of escape, and it was
fortunate for our old Neptune that he was secure upon the high ledge of
rock; for if he had been in the path of the infuriated beast there would
have been an end of Abou Do. The old man plunged into the deep pool just
quitted by the hippo and landed upon our side, while in the enthusiasm of
the moment I waved my cap above my head and gave him a British cheer as he
reached the shore. His usually stern features relaxed into a grim smile of
delight: this was one of those moments when the gratified pride of the
hunter rewards him for any risks. I congratulated him upon his dexterity;
but much remained to be done. I proposed to cross the river, and to follow
upon the tracks of the hippopotamus, as I imagined that the buoy and rope
would catch in the thick jungle, and that we should find him entangled in
the bush; but the old hunter gently laid his hand upon my arm and pointed
up the bed of the river, explaining that the hippo would certainly return
to the water after a short interval.</p>
<p>In a few minutes later, at a distance of nearly half a mile, we observed
the hippo emerge from the jungle and descend at full trot to the bed of
the river, making direct for the first rocky pool in which we had noticed
the herd of hippopotami. Accompanied by the old howarti (hippo hunter), we
walked quickly toward the spot. He explained to me that I must shoot the
harpooned hippo, as we should not be able to secure him in the usual
method by ropes, as nearly all our men were absent from camp, disposing of
the dead elephants.</p>
<p>Upon reaching the pool, which was about a hundred and thirty yards in
diameter, we were immediately greeted by the hippo, who snorted and roared
as we approached, but quickly dived, and the buoyant float ran along the
surface, directing his course in the same manner as the cork of a trimmer
marks that of a pike upon the hook. Several times he appeared, but as he
invariably faced us I could not obtain a favorable shot; I therefore sent
the old hunter round the pool, and he, swimming the river, advanced to the
opposite side and attracted the attention of the hippo, who immediately
turned toward him. This afforded me a good chance, and I fired a steady
shot behind the ear, at about seventy yards, with a single-barrelled
rifle. As usual with hippopotami, whether dead or alive, he disappeared
beneath the water at the shot. The crack of the ball and the absence of
any splash from the bullet told me that he was hit; the ambatch float
remained perfectly stationary upon the surface. I watched it for some
minutes—it never moved. Several heads of hippopotami appeared and
vanished in different directions, but the float was still; it marked the
spot where the grand old bull lay dead beneath.</p>
<p>I shot another hippo, that I thought must be likewise dead; and, taking
the time by my watch, I retired to the shade of a tree with Hassan, while
Hadji Ali and the old hunter returned to camp for assistance in men and
knives, etc.</p>
<p>In a little more than an hour and a half, two objects like the backs of
turtles appeared above the surface. These were the flanks of the two
hippos. A short time afterward the men arrived, and, regardless of
crocodiles, they swam toward the bodies. One was towed directly to the
shore by the rope attached to the harpoon, the other was secured by a long
line and dragged to the bank of clean pebbles. We had now a good supply of
food, which delighted our people.</p>
<p>I returned to the camp, and several hours elapsed, but none of the
aggageers returned, and neither had we received any tidings of our people
and camels that had left us at daybreak to search for the dead elephants.
Fearing that some mishap might have occurred in a collision with the
Bas-e, I anxiously looked out for some sign of the party. At about 4 P.M.
I observed far up the bed of the river several men, some mounted and
others upon foot, while one led a camel with a curious-looking load. Upon
a nearer approach I could distinguish upon the camel's back some large
object that was steadied by two men, one of whom walked on either side. I
had a foreboding that something was wrong, and in a few minutes I clearly
perceived a man lying upon a make-shift litter, carried by the camel,
while the Sheik Abou Do and Suleiman accompanied the party upon horseback;
a third led Jali's little gray mare.</p>
<p>They soon arrived beneath the high bank of the river upon which I stood.
Poor little Jali, my plucky and active ally, lay, as I thought, dead upon
the litter. We laid him gently upon my angarep, which I had raised by four
men, so that we could lower him gradually from the kneeling camel, and we
carried him to the camp, about thirty yards distant. He was faint, and I
poured some essence of peppermint (the only spirits I possessed) down his
throat, which quickly revived him. His thigh was broken about eight inches
above the knee, but fortunately it was a simple fracture.</p>
<p>Abou Do now explained the cause of the accident. While the party of camel,
men and others were engaged in cutting up the dead elephants, the three
aggageers had found the track of a bull that had escaped wounded. In that
country, where there was no drop of water upon the east bank of the
Settite for a distance of sixty or seventy miles to the river Gash, an
elephant, if wounded, was afraid to trust itself to the interior. One of
our escaped elephants had therefore returned to the thick jungle, and was
tracked by the aggageers to a position within two or three hundred yards
of the dead elephants. As there were no guns, two of the aggageers,
utterly reckless of consequences, resolved to ride through the narrow
passages formed by the large game, and to take their chance with the
elephant, sword in hand. Jali, as usual, was the first to lead, and upon
his little gray mare he advanced with the greatest difficulty through the
entangled thorns, broken by the passage of heavy game; to the right and
left of the passage it was impossible to move. Abou Do had wisely
dismounted, but Suleiman followed Jali. Upon arriving within a few yards
of the elephant, which was invisible in the thick thorns, Abou Do crept
forward on foot, and discovered it standing with ears cocked, evidently
waiting for the attack. As Jali followed on his light gray mare, the
elephant immediately perceived the white color and at once charged
forward. Escape was next to impossible. Jali turned his snare sharply
around, and she bounded off; but, caught in the thorns, the mare fell,
throwing her rider in the path of the elephant that was within a few feet
behind, in full chase. The mare recovered herself in an instant, and
rushed away; the elephant, attracted by the white color of the animal,
neglected the man, upon whom it trod in the pursuit, thus breaking his
thigh. Abou Do, who had been between the elephant and Jali, had wisely
jumped into the thick thorns, and, as the elephant passed him, he again
sprang out behind and followed with his drawn sword, but too late to save
Jali, as it was the affair of an instant. Jumping over Jali's body, he was
just in time to deliver a tremendous cut at the hind leg of the elephant,
that must otherwise have killed both horses and probably Suleiman also, as
the three were caught in a cul de sac, in a passage that had no outlet,
and were at the elephant's mercy.</p>
<p>Abou Do seldom failed. It was a difficult feat to strike correctly in the
narrow jungle passage with the elephant in full speed; but the blow was
fairly given, and the back sinew was divided. Not content with the success
of the cut, he immediately repeated the stroke upon the other leg, as he
feared that the elephant, although disabled from rapid motion, might turn
and trample Jali. The extraordinary dexterity and courage required to
effect this can hardly be appreciated by those who have never hunted a
wild elephant; but the extreme agility, pluck, and audacity of these
Hamran sword-hunters surpass all feats that I have ever witnessed.</p>
<p>I set Jali's broken thigh and attended to him for four days. He was a very
grateful but unruly patient, as he had never been accustomed to remain
quiet. At the end of that time we arranged an angarep comfortably upon a
camel, upon which he was transported to Geera, in company with a long
string of camels, heavily laden with dried meat and squares of hide for
shields, with large bundles of hippopotamus skin for whip-making, together
with the various spoils of the chase. Last but not least were numerous
leathern pots of fat that had been boiled down from elephants and
hippopotami.</p>
<p>The camels were to return as soon as possible with supplies of corn for
our people and horses. Another elephant-hunter was to be sent to us in the
place of Jali, but I felt that we had lost our best man.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER IX. </h2>
<p>Fright of the Tokrooris—Deserters who didn't desert—Arrival of
the Sherrif brothers—Now for a tally-ho!—On the heels of the
rhinoceroses—The Abyssinian rhinoceros—Every man for himself.</p>
<p>Although my people had been in the highest spirits up to this time, a
gloom had been thrown over the party by two causes—Jali's accident
and the fresh footmarks of the Bas-e that had been discovered upon the
sand by the margin of the river. The aggageers feared nothing, and if the
Bas-e had been legions of demons they would have faced them, sword in
hand, with the greatest pleasure. But my Tokrooris, who were brave in some
respects, had been so cowed by the horrible stories recounted of these
common enemies at the nightly camp-fires by the Hamran Arabs, that they
were seized with panic and resolved to desert en masse and return to
Katariff, where I had originally engaged them, and at which place they had
left their families.</p>
<p>In this instance the desertion of my Tokrooris would have been a great
blow to my expedition, as it was necessary to have a division of parties.
I had the Tokrooris, Jaleens, and Hamran Arabs. Thus they would never
unite together, and I was certain to have some upon my side in a
difficulty. Should I lose the Tokrooris, the Hamran Arabs would have the
entire preponderance.</p>
<p>The whole of my Tokrooris formed in line before me and my wife, just as
the camels were about to leave. Each man had his little bundle prepared
for starting on a journey. Old Moosa was the spokesman. He said that they
were all very sorry; that they regretted exceedingly the necessity of
leaving us, but some of them were sick, and they would only be a burden to
the expedition; that one of them was bound upon a pilgrimage to Mecca, and
that God would punish him should he neglect this great duty; others had
not left any money with their families in Katariff, that would starve in
their absence. (I had given them an advance of wages, when they engaged at
Katariff, to provide against this difficulty.) I replied: "My good
fellows, I am very sorry to hear all this, especially as it comes upon me
so suddenly; those who are sick stand upon one side" (several invalids,
who looked remarkably healthy, stepped to the left). "Who wishes to go to
Mecca?" Abderachman stepped forward (a huge specimen of a Tokroori, who
went by the nickname of "El Jamoos" or the buffalo). "Who wishes to remit
money to his family, as I will send it and deduct it from his wages?" No
one came forward. During the pause I called for pen and paper, which
Mahomet brought. I immediately commenced writing, and placed the note
within an envelope, which I addressed and gave to one of the
camel-drivers. I then called for my medicine-chest, and having weighed
several three-grain doses of tartar emetic, I called the invalids, and
insisted upon their taking the medicine before they started, or they might
become seriously ill upon the road, which for three days' march was
uninhabited. Mixed with a little water the doses were swallowed, and I
knew that the invalids were safe for that day, and that the others would
not start without them.</p>
<p>I now again addressed my would-be deserters: "Now, my good fellows, there
shall be no misunderstanding between us, and I will explain to you how the
case stands. You engaged yourselves to me for the whole journey, and you
received an advance of wages to provide for your families during your
absence. You have lately filled yourselves with meat, and you have become
lazy; you have been frightened by the footprints of the Bas-e; thus you
wish to leave the country. To save yourselves from imaginary danger, you
would forsake my wife and myself, and leave us to a fate which you
yourselves would avoid. This is your gratitude for kindness; this is the
return for my confidence, when without hesitation I advanced you money.
Go! Return to Katariff to your families! I know that all the excuses you
have made are false. Those who declare themselves to be sick, Inshallah
(please God), shall be sick. You will all be welcomed upon your arrival at
Katariff. In the letter I have written to the Governor, inclosing your
names, I have requested him to give each man upon his appearance FIVE
HUNDRED LASHES WITH THE COORBATCH, FOR DESERTION, and to imprison him
until my return."</p>
<p>Checkmate! My poor Tokrooris were in a corner, and in their great dilemma
they could not answer a word. Taking advantage of this moment of
confusion, I called forward "the buffalo," Abderachman, as I had heard
that he really had contemplated a pilgrimage to Mecca. "Abderachman," I
continued, "you are the only man who has spoken the truth. Go to Mecca!
and may God protect you on the journey! I should not wish to prevent you
from performing your duty as a Mahometan."</p>
<p>Never were people more dumbfounded with surprise. They retreated, and
formed a knot in consultation, and in about ten minutes they returned to
me, old Moosa and Hadji Ali both leading the pilgrim Abderachman by the
hands. They had given in; and Abderachman, the buffalo of the party,
thanked me for my permission, and with tears in his eyes, as the camels
were about to start, he at once said good-by. "Embrace him!" cried old
Moosa and Hadji Ali; and in an instant, as I had formerly succumbed to the
maid Barrake, I was actually kissed by the thick lips of Abderachman the
unwashed! Poor fellow! this was sincere gratitude without the slightest
humbug; therefore, although he was an odoriferous savage, I could not help
shaking him by the hand and wishing him a prosperous journey, assuring him
that I would watch over his comrades like a father, while in my service.
In a few instants these curious people were led by a sudden and new
impulse; my farewell had perfectly delighted old Moosa and Hadji Ali,
whose hearts were won. "Say good-by to the Sit!" (the lady) they shouted
to Abderachman; but I assured them that it was not necessary to go through
the whole operation to which I had been subjected, and that she would be
contented if he only kissed her hand. This he did with the natural grace
of a savage, and was led away crying by his companions, who embraced him
with tears, and they parted with the affection of brothers.</p>
<p>Now, to hard-hearted and civilized people, who often school themselves to
feel nothing, or as little as they can, for anybody, it may appear absurd
to say that the scene was affecting, but somehow or other it was. And in
the course of half an hour, those who would have deserted had become
stanch friends, and we were all, black and white, Mahometans and
Christians, wishing the pilgrim God-speed upon his perilous journey to
Mecca.</p>
<p>The camels started, and, if the scene was affecting, the invalids began to
be more affected by the tartar emetic. This was the third act of the
comedy. The plot had been thoroughly ventilated; the last act exhibited
the perfect fidelity of my Tokrooris, in whom I subsequently reposed much
confidence.</p>
<p>In the afternoon of that day the brothers Sherrif arrived. These were the
most renowned of all the sword-hunters of the Hamrans, of whom I have
already spoken. They were well mounted, and, having met our caravan of
camels on the route, heavily laden with dried flesh, and thus seen proofs
of our success, they now offered to join our party. I am sorry to be
obliged to confess that my ally, Abou Do, although a perfect Nimrod in
sport, an Apollo in personal appearance, and a gentleman in manner, was a
mean, covetous, and grasping fellow, and withal absurdly jealous. Taher
Sherrif was a more celebrated hunter, having had the experience of at
least twenty years in excess of Abou Do; and although the latter was as
brave and dexterous as Taher and his brothers, he wanted the cool judgment
that is essential to a first-rate sportsman.</p>
<p>The following day was the new year, January 1st, 1862; and with the four
brothers Sherrif and our party we formed a powerful body of hunters: six
aggageers and myself all well mounted. With four gun-bearers and two
camels, both of which carried water, we started in search of elephants.
Florian was unwell, and remained in camp.</p>
<p>The immediate neighborhood was a perfect exhibition of gun-arabic-bearing
mimosas. At this season the gum was in perfection, and the finest quality
was now before us in beautiful amber-colored masses upon the stems and
branches, varying from the size of a nutmeg to that of an orange. So great
was the quantity, and so excellent were the specimens, that, leaving our
horses tied to trees, both the Arabs and myself gathered a large
collection. This gum, although as hard as ice on the exterior, was limpid
in the centre, resembling melted amber, and as clear as though refined by
some artificial process. The trees were perfectly denuded of leaves from
the extreme drought, and the beautiful balls of frosted yellow gum
recalled the idea of the precious jewels upon the trees in the garden of
the wonderful lamp of the "Arabian Nights." This gum was exceedingly sweet
and pleasant to the taste; but, although of the most valuable quality,
there was no hand to gather it in this forsaken although beautiful
country; it either dissolved during the rainy season or was consumed by
the baboons and antelopes. The aggageers took off from their saddles the
skins of tanned antelope leather that formed the only covering to the
wooden seats, and with these they made bundles of gum. When we remounted,
every man was well laden.</p>
<p>We were thus leisurely returning home through alternate plains and low
open forest of mimosa, when Taher Sherrif, who was leading the party,
suddenly reined up his horse and pointed to a thick bush, beneath which
was a large gray but shapeless mass. He whispered, as I drew near, "Oom
gurrin" (mother of the horn), their name for the rhinoceros. I immediately
dismounted, and with the short No. 10 Tatham rifle I advanced as near as I
could, followed by Suleiman, as I had sent all my gum-bearers directly
home by the river when we had commenced our circuit. As I drew near I
discovered two rhinoceroses asleep beneath a thick mass of bushes. They
were lying like pigs, close together, so that at a distance I had been
unable to distinguish any exact form. It was an awkward place. If I were
to take the wind fairly I should have to fire through the thick bush,
which would be useless; therefore I was compelled to advance with the wind
directly from me to them. The aggageers remained about a hundred yards
distant, while I told Suleiman to return and hold my horse in readiness
with his own. I then walked quietly to within about thirty yards of the
rhinoceroses; but so curiously were they lying that it was useless to
attempt a shot. In their happy dreams they must have been suddenly
disturbed by the scent of an enemy, for, without the least warning, they
suddenly sprang to their feet with astonishing quickness, and with a loud
and sharp whiff, whiff, whiff! one of them charged straight at me. I fired
my right-hand barrel in his throat, as it was useless to aim at the head
protected by two horns at the nose. This turned him, but had no other
effect, and the two animals thundered off together at a tremendous pace.</p>
<p>Now for a "tally-ho!" Our stock of gum was scattered on the ground, and
away went the aggageers in full speed after the two rhinoceroses. Without
waiting to reload, I quickly remounted my horse Tetel, and with Suleiman
in company I spurred hard to overtake the flying Arabs. Tetel was a good
strong cob, but not very fast; however, I believe he never went so well as
upon that day, for, although an Abyssinian Horse, I had a pair of English
spurs, which worked like missionaries. The ground was awkward for riding
at full speed, as it was an open forest of mimosas, which, although wide
apart, were very difficult to avoid, owing to the low crowns of spreading
branches, and these, being armed with fish-hook thorns, would have been
serious in a collision. I kept the party in view until in about a mile we
arrived upon open ground. Here I again applied the spurs, and by degrees I
crept up, always gaining, until I at length joined the aggageers.</p>
<p>Here was a sight to drive a hunter wild! The two rhinoceroses were running
neck and neck, like a pair of horses in harness, but bounding along at
tremendous speed within ten yards of the leading Hamran. This was Taher
Sherrif, who, with his sword drawn and his long hair flying wildly behind
him, urged his horse forward in the race, amid a cloud of dust raised by
the two huge but active beasts, that tried every sinew of the horses.
Roder Sherrif, with the withered arm, was second; with the reins hung upon
the hawk-like claw that was all that remained of a hand, but with his
naked sword grasped in his right, he kept close to his brother, ready to
second his blow. Abou Do was third, his hair flying in the wind, his heels
dashing against the flanks of his horse, to which he shouted in his
excitement to urge him to the front, while he leaned forward with his long
sword, in the wild energy of the moment, as though hoping to reach the
game against all possibility.</p>
<p>Now for the spurs! and as these, vigorously applied, screwed an extra
stride out of Tetel, I soon found myself in the ruck of men, horses, and
drawn swords. There were seven of us, and passing Abou Do, whose face wore
an expression of agony at finding that his horse was failing, I quickly
obtained a place between the two brothers, Taher and Roder Sherrif. There
had been a jealousy between the two parties of aggageers, and each was
striving to outdo the other; thus Abou Do was driven almost to madness at
the superiority of Taher's horse, while the latter, who was the renowned
hunter of the tribe, was determined that his sword should be the first to
taste blood. I tried to pass the rhinoceros on my left, so as to fire
close into the shoulder my remaining barrel with my right hand, but it was
impossible to overtake the animals, who bounded along with undiminished
speed. With the greatest exertion of men and horses we could only retain
our position within about three or four yards of their tails—just
out of reach of the swords. The only chance in the race was to hold the
pace until the rhinoceroses should begin. to flag. The horses were pressed
to the utmost; but we had already run about two miles, and the game showed
no signs of giving in. On they flew, sometimes over open ground, then
through low bush, which tried the horses severely, then through strips of
open forest, until at length the party began to tail off, and only a
select few kept their places. We arrived at the summit of a ridge, from
which the ground sloped in a gentle inclination for about a mile toward
the river. At the foot of this incline was thick thorny nabbuk jungle, for
which impenetrable covert the rhinoceroses pressed at their utmost speed.</p>
<p>Never was there better ground for the finish of a race. The earth was
sandy, but firm, and as we saw the winning-post in the jungle that must
terminate the hunt, we redoubled our exertions to close with the
unflagging game. Suleiman's horse gave in—we had been for about
twenty minutes at a killing pace. Tetel, although not a fast horse, was
good for a distance, and he now proved his power of endurance, as I was
riding at least two stone heavier than any of the party. Only four of the
seven remained; and we swept down the incline, Taher Sherif still leading,
and Abou Do the last! His horse was done, but not the rider; for,
springing to the ground while at full speed, sword in hand, he forsook his
tired horse, and, preferring his own legs, he ran like an antelope, and,
for the first hundred yards I thought lie would really pass us and win the
honor of first blow. It was of no use, the pace was too severe, and,
although running wonderfully, he was obliged to give way to the horses.
Only three now followed the rhinoceroses—Taher Sherrif, his brother
Roder, and myself. I had been obliged to give the second place to Roder,
as he was a mere monkey in weight; but I was a close third.</p>
<p>The excitement was intense. We neared the jungle, and the rhinoceroses
began to show signs of flagging, as the dust puffed up before their
nostrils, and, with noses close to the ground, they snorted as they still
galloped on. Oh for a fresh horse! "A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a
horse!" We were within two hundred yards of the jungle; but the horses
were all done. Tetel reeled as I urged him forward. Roder pushed ahead. We
were close to the dense thorns, and the rhinoceroses broke into a trot;
they were done! "Now, Taher, for-r-a-a-r-r-d! for-r-r-a-a-r-d, Taher!!"</p>
<p>Away he went. He was close to the very heels of the beasts, but his horse
could do no more than his present pace; still he gained upon the nearest.
He leaned forward with his sword raised for the blow. Another moment and
the jungle would be reached! One effort more, and the sword flashed in the
sunshine, as the rear-most rhinoceros disappeared in the thick screen of
thorns, with a gash about a foot long upon his hind-quarters. Taher
Sherrif shook his bloody sword in triumph above his head, but the
rhinoceros was gone. We were fairly beaten, regularly outpaced; but I
believe another two hundred yards would have given us the victory. "Bravo,
Taher!" I shouted. He had ridden splendidly, and his blow had been
marvellously delivered at an extremely long reach, as he was nearly out of
his saddle when he sprang forward to enable the blade to obtain a cut at
the last moment. He could not reach the hamstring, as his horse could not
gain the proper position.</p>
<p>We all immediately dismounted. The horses were thoroughly done, and I at
once loosened the girths and contemplated my steed Tetel, who, with head
lowered and legs wide apart, was a tolerable example of the effects of
pace. The other aggageers shortly arrived, and as the rival Abou Do joined
us, Taher Sherrif quietly wiped the blood off his sword without making a
remark. This was a bitter moment for the discomfited Abou Do.</p>
<p>There is only one species of rhinoceros in Abyssinia; this is the
two-horned black rhinoceros, known in South Africa as the keitloa. This
animal is generally five feet six inches to five feet eight inches high at
the shoulder, and, although so bulky and heavily built, it is extremely
active, as our long and fruitless hunt had shown us. The skin is about
half the thickness of that of the hippopotamus, but of extreme toughness
and closeness of texture. When dried and polished it resembles horn.
Unlike the Indian species of rhinoceros, the black variety of Africa is
free from folds, and the hide fits smoothly on the body like that of the
buffalo. This two-horned black species is exceedingly vicious. It is one
of the very few animals that will generally assume the offensive; it
considers all creatures to be enemies, and, although it is not acute in
either sight or hearing, it possesses so wonderful a power of scent that
it will detect a stranger at a distance of five or six hundred yards
should the wind be favorable.</p>
<p>Florian was now quite incapable of hunting, as he was in a weak state of
health, and had for some months been suffering from chronic dysentery. I
had several times cured him, but he had a weakness for the strongest black
coffee, which, instead of drinking, like the natives, in minute cups, he
swallowed wholesale in large basins several times a day; this was actual
poison with his complaint, and he was completely ruined in health. At this
time his old companion, Johann Schmidt, the carpenter, arrived, having
undertaken a contract to provide for the Italian Zoological Gardens a
number of animals. I therefore proposed that the two old friends should
continue together, while I would hunt by myself, with the aggageers,
toward the east and south. This arrangement was agreed to, and we parted.</p>
<p>Our camels returned from Geera with corn, accompanied by an Abyssinian
hunter, who was declared by Abou Do to be a good man and dexterous with
the sword. We accordingly moved our camp, said adieu to Florian and
Johann, and penetrated still deeper into the country of the Bas-e.</p>
<p>Our course lay, as usual, along the banks of the river. We decided to
encamp at a spot known to the Arabs as Deladilla. This was the forest upon
the margin of the river where I had first shot the bull elephant when the
aggageers fought with him upon foot. I resolved to fire the entire country
on the following day, and to push still farther up the course of the
Settite to the foot of the mountains, and to return to this camp in about
a fortnight, by which time the animals that had been scared away by the
fire would have returned. Accordingly, on the following morning,
accompanied by a few of the aggageers, I started upon the south bank of
the river, and rode for some distance into the interior, to the ground
that was entirely covered with high withered grass. We were passing
through a mass of kittar and thorn-bush, almost hidden by the immensely
high grass, when, as I was ahead of the party, I came suddenly upon the
tracks of rhinoceroses. These were so unmistakably recent that I felt sure
we were not far from the animals themselves. As I had wished to fire the
grass, I was accompanied by my Tokrooris and my horse-keeper, Mahomet No.
2. It was difficult ground for the men, and still more unfavorable for the
horses, as large disjointed masses of stone were concealed in the high
grass.</p>
<p>We were just speculating as to the position of the rhinoceros, and
thinking how uncommonly unpleasant it would be should he obtain our wind,
when whiff! whiff! whiff! We heard the sharp whistling snort, with a
tremendous rush through the high grass and thorns close to us, and at the
same moment two of these determined brutes were upon us in full charge. I
never saw such a scrimmage. SAUVE QUI PEUT! There was no time for more
than one look behind. I dug the spurs into Aggahr's flanks, and clasping
him round the neck I ducked my head down to his shoulder, well protected
with my strong hunting-cap, and kept the spurs going as hard as I could
ply them, blindly trusting to Providence and my good horse. Over big
rocks, fallen trees, thick kittar thorns, and grass ten feet high, with
the two infernal animals in full chase only a few feet behind me! I heard
their abominable whiffing close to me, but so did my good horse, and the
good old hunter flew over obstacles in a way I should have thought
impossible, and he dashed straight under the hooked thorn-bushes and
doubled like a hare. The aggageers were all scattered; Mahomet No. 2 was
knocked over by a rhinoceros; all the men were sprawling upon the rocks
with their guns, and the party was entirely discomfited.</p>
<p>Having passed the kittar thorn I turned, and, seeing that the beasts had
gone straight on, I brought Aggahr's head round and tried to give chase;
but it was perfectly impossible. It was only a wonder that the horse had
escaped in ground so difficult for riding. Although my clothes were of the
strongest and coarsest Arab cotton cloth, which seldom tore, but simply
lost a thread when caught in a thorn, I was nearly naked. My blouse was
reduced to shreds. As I wore sleeves only half way from the shoulder to
the elbow, my naked arms were streaming with blood. Fortunately my
hunting-cap was secured with a chin strap, and still more fortunately I
had grasped the horse's neck; otherwise I must have been dragged out of
the saddle by the hooked thorns. All the men were cut and bruised, some
having fallen upon their heads among the rocks, and others had hurt their
legs in falling in their endeavors to escape. Mahomet No. 2, the
horse-keeper, was more frightened than hurt, as he had been knocked down
by the shoulder and not by the horn of the rhinoceros, as the animal had
not noticed him; its attention was absorbed by the horse.</p>
<p>I determined to set fire to the whole country immediately, and descending
the hill toward the river to obtain a favorable wind, I put my men in a
line, extending over about a mile along the river's bed, and they fired
the grass in different places. With a loud roar the flame leaped high in
air and rushed forward with astonishing velocity. The grass was as
inflammable as tinder, and the strong north wind drove the long line of
fire spreading in every direction through the country.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER X. </h2>
<p>A day with the howartis—A hippo's gallant fight—Abou Do leaves
us—Three yards from a lion—Days of delight—A lion's
furious rage—Astounding courage of a horse.</p>
<p>A LITTLE before sunrise I accompanied the howartis, or
hippopotamus-hunters, for a day's sport. At length we arrived at a large
pool in which were several sand-banks covered with rushes, and many rocky
islands. Among these rocks was a herd of hippopotami, consisting of an old
bull and several cows. A young hippo was standing, like an ugly little
statue, on a protruding rock, while another infant stood upon its mother's
back that listlessly floated on the water.</p>
<p>This was an admirable place for the hunters. They desired me to lie down,
and they crept into the jungle out of view of the river. I presently
observed them stealthily descending the dry bed about two hundred paces
above the spot where the hippos were basking behind the rocks. They
entered the river and swam down the centre of the stream toward the rock.
This was highly exciting. The hippos were quite unconscious of the
approaching danger, as, steadily and rapidly, the hunters floated down the
strong current. They neared the rock, and both heads disappeared as they
purposely sank out of view; in a few seconds later they reappeared at the
edge of the rock upon which the young hippo stood. It would be difficult
to say which started first, the astonished young hippo into the water, or
the harpoons from the hands of the howartis! It was the affair of a
moment. The hunters dived as soon as they had hurled their harpoons, and,
swimming for some distance under water, they came to the surface, and
hastened to the shore lest an infuriated hippopotamus should follow them.
One harpoon had missed; the other had fixed the bull of the herd, at which
it had been surely aimed. This was grand sport! The bull was in the
greatest fury, and rose to the surface, snorting and blowing in his
impotent rage; but as the ambatch float was exceedingly large, and this
naturally accompanied his movements, he tried to escape from his imaginary
persecutor, and dived constantly, only to find his pertinacious attendant
close to him upon regaining the surface. This was not to last long; the
howartis were in earnest, and they at once called their party, who, with
two of the aggageers, Abou Do and Suleiman, were near at hand. These men
arrived with the long ropes that form a portion of the outfit of hippo
hunting.</p>
<p>The whole party now halted on the edge of the river, while two men swam
across with one end of the long rope. Upon gaining the opposite bank, I
observed that a second rope was made fast to the middle of the main line.
Thus upon our side we held the ends of two ropes, while on the opposite
side they had only one; accordingly, the point of junction of the two
ropes in the centre formed an acute angle. The object of this was soon
practically explained. Two men upon our side now each held a rope, and one
of these walked about ten yards before the other. Upon both sides of the
river the people now advanced, dragging the rope on the surface of the
water until they reached the ambatch float that was swimming to and fro,
according to the movements of the hippopotamus below. By a dexterous jerk
of the main line the float was now placed between the two ropes, and it
was immediately secured in the acute angle by bringing together the ends
of these ropes on our side.</p>
<p>The men on the opposite bank now dropped their line, and our men hauled in
upon the ambatch float that was held fast between the ropes. Thus cleverly
made sure, we quickly brought a strain upon the hippo, and, although I
have had some experience in handling big fish, I never knew one to pull so
lustily as the amphibious animal that we now alternately coaxed and
bullied. He sprang out of the water, gnashed his huge jaws, snorted with
tremendous rage, and lashed the river into foam. He then dived, and
foolishly approached us beneath the water. We quickly gathered in the
slack line, and took a round turn upon a large rock, within a few feet of
the river. The hippo now rose to the surface, about ten yards from the
hunters, and, jumping half out of the water, he snapped his great jaws
together, endeavoring to catch the rope; but at the same instant two
harpoons were launched into his side. Disdaining retreat, and maddened
with rage, the furious animal charged from the depths of the river, and,
gaining a footing, he reared his bulky form from the surface, came boldly
upon the sand-bank, and attacked the hunters open-mouthed.</p>
<p>He little knew his enemy. They were not the men to fear a pair of gaping
jaws, armed with a deadly array of tusks; but half a dozen lances were
hurled at him, some entering his mouth from a distance of five or six
paces. At the same time several men threw handfuls of sand into his
enormous eyes. This baffled him more than the lances; he crunched the
shafts between his powerful jaws like straws, but he was beaten by the
sand, and, shaking his huge head, he retreated to the river. During his
sally upon the shore two of the hunters had secured the ropes of the
harpoons that had been fastened in his body just before his charge. He was
now fixed by three of these deadly instruments; but suddenly one rope gave
way, having been bitten through by the enraged beast, who was still
beneath the water. Immediately after this he appeared on the surface, and,
without a moment's hesitation, he once more charged furiously from the
water straight at the hunters, with his huge mouth open to such an extent
that he could have accommodated two inside passengers. Suleiman was wild
with delight, and springing forward lance in hand, he drove it against the
head of the formidable animal, but without effect. At the same time Abou
Do met the hippo sword in hand, reminding me of Perseus slaying the
sea-monster that would devour Andromeda; but the sword made a harmless
gash, and the lance, already blunted against the rocks, refused to
penetrate the tough hide. Once more handfuls of sand were pelted upon his
face, and, again repulsed by this blinding attack, he was forced to retire
to his deep hole and wash it from his eyes.</p>
<p>Six times during the fight the valiant bull hippo quitted his watery
fortress and charged resolutely at his pursuers. He had broken several of
their lances in his jaws, other lances had been hurled, and, falling upon
the rocks, they were blunted and would not penetrate. The fight had
continued for three hours, and the sun was about to set; accordingly the
hunters begged me to give him the COUP DE GRACE, as they had hauled him
close to the shore, and they feared he would sever the rope with his
teeth. I waited for a good opportunity, when he boldly raised his head
from water about three yards from the rifle, and a bullet from the little
Fletcher between the eyes closed the last act. This spot was not far from
the pyramidical hill beneath which I had fixed our camp, to which I
returned after an amusing day's sport.</p>
<p>The next morning I started to the mountains to explore the limit that I
had proposed for my expedition on the Settite. The Arabs had informed me
that a river of some importance descended from the mountains and joined
the main stream about twelve miles from our camp. In about three hours and
a half we arrived at Hor Mehetape, the stream that the Arabs had reported.
Although a powerful torrent during the rains, it was insignificant as one
of the tributaries to the Settite, as the breadth did not exceed
twenty-five yards. At this season it was nearly dry, and at no time did it
appear to exceed the depth of ten or twelve feet. It was merely a rapid
mountain torrent. But we were now among the mountains whose drainage
causes the sudden rise of the Atbara and the Nile.</p>
<p>Abou Do and Suleiman had lately given us some trouble, especially the
former, whose covetous nature had induced him to take much more than his
share of the hides of rhinoceros and other animals shot. The horses of the
aggageers had, moreover, been lamed by reckless riding, and Abou Do coolly
proposed that I should lend them horses. Having a long journey before me,
I refused, and they became discontented. It was time to part, and I
ordered him and his people to return to Geera. As Taher Sherrif's party
had disagreed with Abou Do some time previously, and had left us, we were
now left without aggageers.</p>
<p>On the following day I succeeded in killing a buffalo, which I ordered my
men, after they had flayed it, to leave as a bait for lions.</p>
<p>That night we were serenaded by the roaring of these animals in all
directions, one of them having visited our camp, around which we
discovered his footprints on the following morning. I accordingly took
Taher Noor, with Hadji Ali and Hassan, two of my trusty Tokrooris, and
went straight to the spot where I had left the carcass of the buffalo. As
I had expected, nothing remained—not even a bone. The ground was
much trampled, and tracks of lions were upon the sand; but the body of the
buffalo had been dragged into the thorny jungle. I was determined, if
possible, to get a shot; therefore I followed carefully the track left by
the carcass, which had formed a path in the withered grass. Unfortunately
the lions had dragged the buffalo down wind; therefore, after I had
arrived within the thick nabbuk and high grass, I came to the conclusion
that my only chance would be to make a long circuit, and to creep up wind
through the thorns, until I should be advised by my nose of the position
of the carcass, as it would by this time be in a state of putrefaction,
and the lions would most probably be with the body. Accordingly I struck
off to my left, and continuing straight forward for some hundred yards, I
again struck into the thick jungle and came round to the wind. Success
depended on extreme caution; therefore I advised my three men to keep
close behind me with the spare rifles, as I carried my single-barrelled
Beattie. This rifle was extremely accurate, therefore I had chosen it for
this close work, when I expected to get a shot at the eye or forehead of a
lion crouching in the bush.</p>
<p>Softly and with difficulty I crept forward, followed closely by my men,
through the high withered grass, beneath the dense green nabbuk bushes,
peering through the thick covert, with the nerves braced up to full pitch,
and the finger on the trigger ready for any emergency. We had thus
advanced for about half an hour, during which I frequently applied my nose
to within a foot of the ground to catch the scent, when a sudden puff of
wind brought the unmistakable smell of decomposing flesh. For the moment I
halted, and, looking round to my men, I made a sign that we were near to
the carcass, and that they were to be ready with the rifles. Again I crept
gently forward, bending and sometimes crawling beneath the thorns to avoid
the slightest noise. As I approached the scent became stronger, until I at
length felt that I must be close to the cause.</p>
<p>This was highly exciting. Fully prepared for a quick shot, I stealthily
crept on. A tremendous roar in the dense thorns within a few feet of me
suddenly brought my rifle to the shoulder. Almost in the same instant I
observed the three-quarter figure of either a lion or a lioness within
three yards of me, on the other side of the bush under which I had been
creeping. The foliage concealed the head, but I could almost have touched
the shoulder with my rifle. Much depended upon the bullet, and I fired
exactly through the shoulder. Another tremendous roar! and a crash in the
bushes as the animal made a bound forward was succeeded immediately by a
similar roar, as another lion took the exact position of the last, and
stood wondering at the report of the rifle, and seeking for the cause of
the intrusion. This was a grand lion with a shaggy mane; but my rifle was
unloaded, and, keeping my eyes fixed on the beast, I stretched my hand
back for a spare rifle. The lion remained standing, but gazing up wind
with his head raised, snuffing in the air for a scent of the enemy. No
rifle was put in my hand. I looked back for an instant, and saw my
Tokrooris faltering about five yards behind me. I looked daggers at them,
gnashing my teeth and shaking my fist. They saw the lion, and Taher Noor
snatching a rifle from Hadji Ali was just about to bring it; when Hassan,
ashamed, ran forward. The lion disappeared at the same moment. Never was
such a fine chance lost through the indecision of the gun bearers! I made
a vow never to carry a single-barrelled rifle again when hunting large
game. If I had had my dear little Fletcher 24 1 should have nailed the
lion to a certainty.</p>
<p>However, there was not much time for reflection. Where was the first lion?
Some remains of the buffalo lay upon my right, and I expected to find the
lion most probably crouching in the thorns somewhere near us. Having
reloaded, I took one of my Reilly No. 10 rifles and listened attentively
for a sound. Presently I heard within a few yards a low growl. Taher Noor
drew his sword and, with his shield before him, he searched for the lion,
while I crept forward toward the sound, which was again repeated. A low
roar, accompanied by a rush in the jungle, showed us a glimpse of the lion
as he bounded off within ten or twelve yards; but I had no chance to fire.
Again the low growl was repeated, and upon quietly creeping toward the
spot I saw a splendid animal crouched upon the ground amid the withered
and broken grass. The lioness lay dying with the bullet wound in the
shoulder. Occasionally in her rage she bit her own paw violently, and then
struck and clawed the ground. A pool of blood lay by her side. She was
about ten yards from us, and I instructed my men to throw a clod of earth
at her (there were no stones), to prove whether she could rise, while I
stood ready with the rifle. She merely replied with a dull roar, and I
terminated her misery by a ball through the head. She was a beautiful
animal. The patch of the bullet was sticking in the wound. She was shot
through both shoulders, and as we were not far from the tent I determined
to have her brought to camp upon a camel as an offering to my wife.
Accordingly I left my Tokrooris, while I went with Taher Noor to fetch a
camel.</p>
<p>On our road through the thick jungle I was startled by a rush close to me.
For the moment I thought it was a lion, but almost at the same instant I
saw a fine nellut dashing away before me, and I killed it immediately with
a bullet through the back of the neck. This was great luck, and we now
required two camels, as in two shots I had killed a lioness and a nellut
(A. Strepsiceros).</p>
<p>We remained for some time at our delightful camp at Delladilla. Every day,
from sunrise to sunset, I was either on foot or in the saddle, without
rest, except upon Sundays. As our camp was full of meat, either dried or
in the process of drying in festoons upon the trees, we had been a great
attraction to the beasts of prey, which constantly prowled around our
thorn fence during the night. One night in particular a lion attempted to
enter, but had been repulsed by the Tokrooris, who pelted him with
firebrands. My people woke me up and begged me to shoot him; but as it was
perfectly impossible to fire correctly through the hedge of thorns, I
refused to be disturbed, but promised to hunt for him on the following
day. Throughout the entire night the lion prowled around the camp,
growling and uttering his peculiar guttural sigh. Not one of my people
slept, as they declared he would bound into the camp and take somebody
unless they kept up the watch-fires and drove him away with brands. The
next day before sunrise I called Hassan and Hadji Ali, whom I lectured
severely upon their cowardice on a former occasion, and received their
promise to follow me to death. I intrusted them with my two Reillys No.
10, and with my little Fletcher in hand I determined to spend the whole
day in searching every thicket of the forest for lions, as I felt
convinced that the animal that had disturbed us during the night was
concealed somewhere within the neighboring jungle.</p>
<p>The whole day passed fruitlessly. I had crept through the thickest thorns
in vain; having abundance of meat, I had refused the most tempting shots
at buffaloes and large antelopes, as I had devoted myself exclusively to
lions. I was much disappointed, as the evening had arrived without a shot
having been fired, and as the sun had nearly set I wandered slowly toward
home. Passing through alternate open glades of a few yards' width, hemmed
in on all sides by thick jungle, I was carelessly carrying my rifle upon
my shoulder, as I pushed my way through the opposing thorns, when a sudden
roar, just before me, at once brought the rifle upon full cock, and I saw
a magnificent lion standing in the middle of the glade, about ten yards
from me. He had been lying on the ground, and had started to his feet upon
hearing me approach through the jungle. For an instant he stood in an
attitude of attention, as we were hardly visible; but at the same moment I
took a quick but sure shot with the little Fletcher. He gave a convulsive
bound, but rolled over backward; before he could recover himself I fired
the left-hand barrel.</p>
<p>It was a glorious sight. I had advanced a few steps into the glade, and
Hassan had quickly handed me a spare rifle, while Taher Noor stood by me
sword in hand. The lion in the greatest fury, with his shaggy mane
bristling in the air, roared with death-like growls, as open-mouthed he
endeavored to charge upon us; but he dragged his hind-quarters upon the
ground, and I saw immediately that the little Fletcher had broken his
spine. In his tremendous exertions to attack he rolled over and over,
gnashing his horrible jaws and tearing holes in the sandy ground at each
blow of his tremendous paws that would have crushed a man's skull like an
egg-shell. Seeing that he was hors de combat I took it coolly, as it was
already dusk, and the lion having rolled into a dark and thick bush I
thought it would be advisable to defer the final attack, as he would be
dead before morning. We were not ten minutes' walk from the camp, at which
we quickly arrived, and my men greatly rejoiced at the discomfiture of
their enemy, as they were convinced that he was the same lion that had
attempted to enter the zareeba.</p>
<p>On the following morning before sunrise I started with nearly all my
people and a powerful camel, with the intention of bringing the lion home
entire. I rode my horse Tetel, who had frequently shown great courage, and
I wished to prove whether he would advance to the body of a lion.</p>
<p>Upon arrival near the spot which we supposed to have been the scene of the
encounter, we were rather puzzled, as there was nothing to distinguish the
locality; one place exactly resembled another, as the country was flat and
sandy, interspersed with thick jungle of green nabbuk. We accordingly
spread out to beat for the lion. Presently Hadji Ali cried out, "There he
lies, dead!" and I immediately rode to the spot together with the people.
A tremendous roar greeted us as the lion started to his fore-feet, and
with his beautiful mane erect and his great hazel eyes flashing fire he
gave a succession of deep short roars, and challenged us to fight. This
was a grand picture. He looked like a true lord of the forest; but I
pitied the poor brute, as he was helpless, and although his spirit was
game to the last, his strength was paralyzed by a broken back.</p>
<p>It was a glorious opportunity for the horse. At the first unexpected roar
the camel had bolted with its rider. The horse had for a moment started on
one side, and the men had scattered; but in an instant I had reined Tetel
up, and I now rode straight toward the lion, who courted the encounter
about twenty paces distant. I halted exactly opposite the noble-looking
beast, who, seeing me in advance of the party, increased his rage and
growled deeply, fixing his glance upon the horse. I now patted Tetel on
the neck and spoke to him coaxingly. He gazed intently at the lion,
erected his mane, and snorted, but showed no signs of retreat. "Bravo! old
boy!" I said, and, encouraging him by caressing his neck with my hand, I
touched his flank gently with my heel. I let him just feel my hand upon
the rein, and with a "Come along, old lad," Tetel slowly but resolutely
advanced step by step toward the infuriated lion, that greeted him with
continued growls. The horse several times snorted loudly and stared
fixedly at the terrible face before him; but as I constantly patted and
coaxed him he did not refuse to advance. I checked him when within about
six yards of the lion.</p>
<p>This would have made a magnificent picture, as the horse, with astounding
courage, faced the lion at bay. Both animals kept their eyes fixed upon
each other, the one beaming with rage, the other cool with determination.
This was enough. I dropped the reins upon his neck; it was a signal that
Tetel perfectly understood, and he stood firm as a rock, for he knew that
I was about to fire. I took aim at the head of the glorious but distressed
lion, and a bullet from the little Fletcher dropped him dead. Tetel never
flinched at a shot. I now dismounted, and, having patted and coaxed the
horse, I led him up to the body of the lion, which I also patted, and then
gave my hand to the horse to smell. He snorted once or twice, and as I
released my hold of the reins and left him entirely free, he slowly
lowered his head and sniffed the mane of the dead lion. He then turned a
few paces upon one side and commenced eating the withered grass beneath
the nabbuk bushes.</p>
<p>My Arabs were perfectly delighted with this extraordinary instance of
courage exhibited by the horse. I had known that the beast was disabled,
but Tetel had advanced boldly toward the angry jaws of a lion that
appeared about to spring. The camel was now brought to the spot and
blindfolded, while we endeavored to secure the lion upon its back. As the
camel knelt, it required the united exertions of eight men, including
myself, to raise the ponderous animal and to secure it across the saddle.</p>
<p>Although so active and cat-like in its movements, a full-grown lion weighs
about five hundred and fifty pounds. Having secured it we shortly arrived
in camp. The COUP D'OEIL was beautiful, as the camel entered the enclosure
with the shaggy head and massive paws of the dead lion hanging upon one
flank, while the tail nearly descended to the ground upon the opposite
side. It was laid at full length before my wife, to whom the claws were
dedicated as a trophy to be worn around the neck as a talisman. Not only
are the claws prized by the Arabs, but the mustache of the lion is
carefully preserved and sewn in a leather envelope, to be worn as an
amulet; such a charm is supposed to protect the wearer from the attacks of
wild animals.</p>
<p>We were now destined to be deprived of two members of the party. Mahomet
had become simply unbearable, and he was so impertinent that I was obliged
to take a thin cane from one of the Arabs and administer a little physical
advice. An evil spirit possessed the man, and he bolted off with some of
the camel men who were returning to Geera with dried meat.</p>
<p>Our great loss was Barrake. She had persisted in eating the fruit of the
hegleek, although she had suffered from dysentery upon several occasions.
She was at length attacked with congestion of the liver. My wife took the
greatest care of her, and for weeks she had given her the entire produce
of the goats, hoping that milk would keep up her strength; but she died
after great suffering, and we buried the poor creature, and moved our
camp.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XI. </h2>
<p>The bull-elephant—Daring Hamrans—The elephant helpless—Visited
by a minstrel—A determined musician—The nest of the outlaws—The
Atbara River</p>
<p>Having explored the Settite into the gorge of the mountain chain of
Abyssinia, we turned due south from our camp at Deladilla, and at a
distance of twelve miles reached the river Royan. Our course now was
directed up this stream, and at the junction of the Hor Mai Gubba, or
Habbuk River, some of my Arabs, observing fresh tracks of horses on the
sand, went in search of the aggageers of Taher Sherrif's party, whom they
had expected to meet at this point. Soon after, they returned with the
aggageers, whose camp was but a quarter of a mile distant. I agreed to
have a hunt for elephants the next day with Taher Sherrif, and before the
following sunrise we had started up the course of the Royan for a favorite
resort of elephants.</p>
<p>We had ridden about thirty miles, and were beginning to despair, when
suddenly we turned a sharp angle in the watercourse, and Taher Sherrif,
who was leading, immediately reined in his horse and backed him toward the
party. I followed his example, and we were at once concealed by the sharp
bend of the river. He now whispered that a bull-elephant was drinking from
a hole it had scooped in the sand, not far around the corner. Without the
slightest confusion the hunters at once fell quietly into their respective
places, Taher Sherrif leading, while I followed closely in the line, with
my Tokrooris bringing up the rear; we were a party of seven horses.</p>
<p>Upon turning the corner we at once perceived the elephant, that was still
drinking. It was a fine bull. The enormous ears were thrown forward, as
the head was lowered in the act of drawing up the water through the trunk.
These shaded the eyes, and with the wind favorable we advanced noiselessly
upon the sand to within twenty yards before we were perceived. The
elephant then threw up its head, and with the ears flapping forward it
raised its trunk for an instant, and then slowly but easily ascended the
steep bank and retreated. The aggageers now halted for about a minute to
confer together, and then followed in their original order up the crumbled
bank. We were now on most unfavorable ground; the fire that had cleared
the country we had hitherto traversed had been stopped by the bed of the
torrent. We were thus plunged at once into withered grass above our heads,
unless we stood in the stirrups. The ground was strewn with fragments of
rock, and altogether it was ill-adapted for riding.</p>
<p>However, Taher Sherrif broke into a trot, followed by the entire party, as
the elephant was not in sight. We ascended a hill, and when near the
summit we perceived the elephant about eighty yards ahead. It was looking
behind during its retreat, by swinging its huge head from side to side,
and upon seeing us approach it turned suddenly round and halted.</p>
<p>"Be ready, and take care of the rocks!" said Taher Sherrif, as I rode
forward by his side. Hardly had he uttered these words of caution when the
bull gave a vicious jerk with its head, and with a shrill scream charged
down upon us with the greatest fury. Away we all went, helter-skelter,
through the dry grass, which whistled in my ears, over the hidden rocks,
at full gallop, with the elephant tearing after us for about a hundred and
eighty yards at a tremendous pace. Tetel was a sure-footed horse, and
being unshod he never slipped upon the stones. Thus, as we all scattered
in different directions, the elephant became confused and relinquished the
chase. It had been very near me at one time, and in such ground I was not
sorry when it gave up the hunt. We now quickly united and again followed
the elephant, that had once more retreated. Advancing at a canter, we
shortly came in view. Upon seeing the horses the bull deliberately entered
a stronghold composed of rocky and uneven ground, in the clefts of which
grew thinly a few leafless trees of the thickness of a man's leg. It then
turned boldly toward us, and stood determinedly at bay.</p>
<p>Now came the tug of war! Taher Sherrif came close to me, and said, "You
had better shoot the elephant, as we shall have great difficulty in this
rocky ground." This I declined, as I wished the fight ended as it had been
commenced, with the sword; and I proposed that he should endeavor to drive
the animal to more favorable ground. "Never mind," replied Taher,
"Inshallah (please God) he shall not beat us." He now advised me to keep
as close to him as possible and to look sharp for a charge.</p>
<p>The elephant stood facing us like a statue; it did not move a muscle
beyond a quick and restless action of the eyes, that were watching all
sides. Taher Sherrif and his youngest brother, Ibrahim, now separated, and
each took opposite sides of the elephant, and then joined each other about
twenty yards behind it. I accompanied them, until Taher advised me to keep
about the same distance upon the left flank. My Tokrooris kept apart from
the scene, as they were not required. In front of the elephant were two
aggageers, one of whom was the renowned Roder Sherrif, with the withered
arm. All being ready for action, Roder now rode slowly toward the head of
the cunning old bull, who was quietly awaiting an opportunity to make
certain of some one who might give him a good chance.</p>
<p>Roder Sherrif rode a bay mare that, having been thoroughly trained to
these encounters, was perfect at her work. Slowly and coolly she advanced
toward her wary antagonist until within about eight or nine yards of the
elephant's head. The creature never moved, and the mise en scene was
beautiful. Not a word was spoken, and we kept our places amid utter
stillness, which was at length broken by a snort from the mare, who gazed
intently at the elephant, as though watching for the moment of attack.</p>
<p>One more pace forward, and Roder sat coolly upon his mare, with his eyes
fixed upon those of the elephant. For an instant I saw the white of the
eye nearest to me. "Look out, Roder, he's coming!" I exclaimed. With a
shrill scream the elephant dashed upon him like an avalanche.</p>
<p>Round went the mare as though upon a pivot, and away, over rocks and
stones, flying like a gazelle, with the monkey-like form of little Roder
Sherrif leaning forward, and looking over his left shoulder as the
elephant rushed after him.</p>
<p>For a moment I thought he must be caught. Had the mare stumbled, all were
lost; but she gained in the race after a few quick, bounding strides, and
Roder, still looking behind him, kept his distance so close to the
elephant that its outstretched trunk was within a few feet of the mare's
tail.</p>
<p>Taher Sherrif and his brother Ibrahim swept down like falcons in the rear.
In full speed they dexterously avoided the trees until they arrived upon
open ground, when they dashed up close to the hind-quarters of the furious
elephant, which, maddened with the excitement, heeded nothing but Roder
and his mare, that were almost within its grasp. When close to the tail of
the elephant Taher Sherrif's sword flashed from its sheath, as grasping
his trusty blade he leaped nimbly to the ground, while Ibrahim caught the
reins of his horse. Two or three bounds on foot, with the sword clutched
in both hands, and he was close behind the elephant. A bright glance shone
like lightning as the sun struck upon the descending steel; this was
followed by a dull crack, as the sword cut through skin and sinews, and
settled deep in the bone, about twelve inches above the foot. At the next
stride the elephant halted dead short in the midst of its tremendous
charge. Taher had jumped quickly on one side, and had vaulted into the
saddle with his naked sword in hand. At the same moment Roder, who had led
the chase, turned sharp round, and again faced the elephant as before.
Stooping quickly from the saddle, he picked up from the ground a handful
of dirt, which he threw into the face of the vicious-looking animal, that
once more attempted to rush upon him. It was impossible! The foot was
dislocated, and turned up in front like an old shoe. In an instant Taher
was once more on foot, and the sharp sword slashed the remaining leg.</p>
<p>The great bull-elephant could not move! The first cut with the sword had
utterly disabled it; the second was its deathblow. The arteries of the leg
were divided, and the blood spouted in jets from the wounds. I wished to
terminate its misery by a bullet behind the ear, but Taher Sherrif begged
me not to fire, as the elephant would quickly bleed to death without pain,
and an unnecessary shot might attract the Base, who would steal the flesh
and ivory during our absence. We were obliged to return immediately to our
far distant camp, and the hunters resolved to accompany their camels to
the spot on the following day. We turned our horses' heads, and rode
directly toward home, which we did not reach until nearly midnight, having
ridden upward of sixty miles during the day.</p>
<p>The hunting of Taher Sherrif and his brothers was superlatively beautiful;
with an immense amount of dash there was a cool, sportsman-like manner in
their mode of attack that far excelled the impetuous and reckless onset of
Abou Do. It was difficult to decide which to admire the more, the coolness
and courage of him who led the elephant, or the extraordinary skill and
activity of the aggahr who dealt the fatal blow.</p>
<p>After hunting and exploring for some days in this neighborhood, I
determined to follow the bed of the Royan to its junction with the
Settite. We started at daybreak, and after a long march along the sandy
bed, hemmed in by high banks or by precipitous cliffs of sandstone, we
arrived at the junction.</p>
<p>Having explored the entire country and enjoyed myself thoroughly, I was
now determined to pay our promised visit to Mek Nimmur. Since our
departure from the Egyptian territory his country had been invaded by a
large force, according to orders sent from the Governor-General of the
Soudan. Mek Nimmur as usual retreated to the mountains, but Mai Gubba and
a number of his villages were utterly destroyed by the Egyptians. He would
under these circumstances be doubly suspicious of strangers.</p>
<p>We were fortunate, however, in unexpectedly meeting a party of Mek
Nimmur's followers on a foray, who consented to guide us to his
encampment. Accordingly on March 20th, we found ourselves in a rich and
park-like valley occupied by his people, and the day following was spent
in receiving visits from the head men. Messengers soon after arrived from
Mek Nimmur inviting us to pay him a visit at his residence.</p>
<p>As we were conversing with Mek Nimmur's messengers through the medium of
Taher Noor, who knew their language, our attention was attracted by the
arrival of a tremendous swell, who at a distance I thought must be Mek
Nimmur himself. A snow-white mule carried an equally snow-white person,
whose tight white pantaloons looked as though he had forgotten his
trousers and had mounted in his drawers. He carried a large umbrella to
shade his complexion; a pair of handsome silver-mounted pistols were
arranged upon his saddle, and a silver-hilted curved sword, of the
peculiar Abyssinian form, hung by his side. This grand personage was
followed by an attendant, also mounted upon a mule, while several men on
foot accompanied them, one of whom carried his lance and shield. Upon near
approach he immediately dismounted and advanced toward us, bowing in a
most foppish manner, while his attendant followed him on foot with an
enormous violin, which he immediately handed to him. This fiddle was very
peculiar in shape, being a square, with an exceedingly long neck extending
from one corner. Upon this was stretched a solitary string, and the bow
was very short and much bent. This was an Abyssinian Paganini. He was a
professional minstrel of the highest grade, who had been sent by Mek
Nimmur to welcome us on our arrival.</p>
<p>These musicians are very similar to the minstrels of ancient times. They
attend at public rejoicings, and at births, deaths, and marriages of great
personages, upon which occasions they extemporize their songs according to
circumstances. My hunting in the Base country formed his theme, and for at
least an hour he sang of my deeds in an extremely loud and disagreeable
voice, while he accompanied himself upon his fiddle, which he held
downward like a violoncello. During the whole of his song he continued in
movement, marching with a sliding step to the front, and gliding to the
right and left in a manner that, though intended to be graceful, was
extremely comic. The substance of this minstrelsy was explained to me by
Taher Noor, who listened eagerly to the words, which he translated with
evident satisfaction. Of course, like all minstrels, he was an absurd
flatterer, and, having gathered a few facts for his theme, he wandered
slightly from the truth in his poetical description of my deeds.</p>
<p>He sang of me as though I had been Richard Coeur de Lion, and recounted,
before an admiring throng of listeners, how I had wandered with a young
wife from my own distant country to fight the terrible Base; how I had
slain them in a single combat, and bow elephants and lions were struck
down like lambs and kids by my hands. That during my absence in the hunt
my wife had been carried off by the Base; that I had, on my return to my
pillaged camp, galloped off in chase, and, overtaking the enemy, hundreds
had fallen by my rifle and sword, and I had liberated and recovered the
lady, who now had arrived safe with her lord in the country of the great
Mek Nimmur, etc., etc.</p>
<p>This was all very pretty, no doubt, and as true as most poetical and
musical descriptions; but I felt certain that there must be something to
pay for this flattering entertainment. If you are considered to be a great
man, a PRESENT is invariably expected in proportion to your importance. I
suggested to Taher Noor that I must give him a couple of dollars. "What!"
said Taher Noor, "a couple of dollars? Impossible! a musician of his
standing is accustomed to receive thirty and forty dollars from great
people for so beautiful and honorable a song."</p>
<p>This was somewhat startling. I began to reflect upon the price of a box at
Her Majesty's Theatre in London; but there I was not the hero of the
opera. This minstrel combined the whole affair in a most simple manner. He
was Verdi, Costa, and orchestra all in one. He was a thorough Macaulay as
historian, therefore I had to pay the composer as well as the fiddler. I
compromised the matter, and gave him a few dollars, as I understood that
he was Mek Nimmur's private minstrel; but I never parted with my dear
Maria Theresa (* The Austrian dollar, that is the only large current coin
in that country.) with so much regret as upon that occasion, and I begged
him not to incommode himself by paying us another visit, or, should he be
obliged to do so, I trusted he would not think it necessary to bring his
violin.</p>
<p>The minstrel retired in the same order that he had arrived, and I watched
his retreating figure with unpleasant reflections, that were suggested by
doubts as to whether I had paid him too little or too much. Taher Noor
thought that he was underpaid; my own opinion was that I had brought a
curse upon myself equal to a succession of London organ-grinders, as I
fully expected that other minstrels, upon hearing of the Austrian dollars,
would pay us a visit and sing of my great deeds.</p>
<p>In the afternoon we were sitting beneath the shade of our tamarind tree,
when we thought we could perceive our musical friend returning. As he drew
near, we were convinced that it was the identical minstrel, who had most
probably been sent with a message from Mek Nimmur. There he was, in
snow-white raiment, on the snow-white mule, with the mounted attendant and
the violin as before. He dismounted upon arrival opposite the camp, and
approached with his usual foppish bow; but we looked on in astonishment:
it was not our Paganini, it was ANOTHER MINSTREL! who was determined to
sing an ode in our praise. I felt that this was an indirect appeal to
Maria Theresa, and I at once declared against music. I begged him not to
sing; "my wife had a headache—I disliked the fiddle—could He
play anything else instead?" and I expressed a variety of polite excuses,
but to no purpose; he insisted upon singing. If I disliked the fiddle, he
would sing without an accompaniment, but he could not think of insulting
so great a man as myself by returning without an ode to commemorate our
arrival.</p>
<p>I was determined that he should NOT sing; he was determined that he WOULD,
therefore I desired him to leave my camp. This he agreed to do, provided I
would allow him to cross the stream and sing to my Tokrooris in my praise,
beneath a neighboring tree about fifty yards distant. He remounted his
mule with his violin, to ford the muddy stream, and descended the steep
bank, followed by his attendant on foot, who drove the unwilling mule.
Upon arrival at the brink of the dirty brook, that was about three feet
deep, the mule positively refused to enter the water, and stood firm with
its fore feet sunk deep in the mud. The attendant attempted to push it on
behind, and at the same time gave it a sharp blow with his sheathed sword.
This changed the scene to the "opera comique." In one instant the mule
gave so vigorous and unexpected a kick into the bowels of the attendant
that he fell upon his back, heels, uppermost, while at the same moment the
minstrel, in his snow-white garments, was precipitated head fore-most into
the muddy brook, and, for the moment disappearing, the violin alone could
be seen floating on the surface. A second later, a wretched-looking
object, covered with slime and filth, emerged from the slongh; this was
Paganini the second! who, after securing his fiddle, that had stranded on
a mud-bank, scrambled up the steel slope, amid the roars of laughter of my
people and of ourselves, while the perverse mule, having turned harmony
into discord, kicked up its heels and galloped off, braying an ode in
praise of liberty, as the "Lay of the Last Minstrel." The discomfited
fiddler was wiped down by my Tokrooris, who occasionally burst into
renewed fits of laughter during the operation. The mule was caught, and
the minstrel remounted, and returned home completely out of tune.</p>
<p>On the following morning at sunrise I mounted my horse, and, accompanied
by Taher Noor and Bacheet, I rode to pay my respects to Mek Nimmur. Our
route lay parallel to the stream, and after a ride of about two miles
through a fine park-like country, bounded by the Abyssinian Alps about
fifteen miles distant, I observed a crowd of people round a large tamarind
tree, near which were standing a number of horses, mules, and dromedaries.
This was the spot upon which I was to meet Mek Nimmur. Upon my approach
the crowd opened, and, having dismounted, I was introduced by Taher Noor
to the great chief. He was a man of about fifty, and exceedingly dirty in
appearance. He sat upon an angarep, surrounded by his people; lying on
either side upon his seat were two brace of pistols, and within a few
yards stood his horse ready saddled. He was prepared for fight or flight,
as were also his ruffianly looking followers, who were composed of
Abyssinians and Jaleens. After a long and satisfactory conversation I
retired. Immediately on my arrival at camp I despatched Wat Gamma with a
pair of beautiful double-barrelled pistols, which I begged Mek Nimmur to
accept. On March 27th we said good-by and started for the Bahr Salaam.</p>
<p>The next few days we spent in exploring the Salaam and Angrab rivers. They
are interesting examples of the destructive effect of water, that has
during the course of ages cut through and hollowed out, in the solid rock,
a succession of the most horrible precipices and caverns, in which the
maddened torrents, rushing from the lofty chain of mountains, boil along
until they meet the Atbara and assist to flood the Nile. No one could
explore these tremendous torrents, the Settite, Royan, Angrab, Salaam, and
Atbara, without at once comprehending their effect upon the waters of the
Nile. The magnificent chain of mountains from which they flow is not a
simple line of abrupt sides, but the precipitous slopes are the walls of a
vast plateau, that receives a prodigious rainfall in June, July, August,
and until the middle of September, the entire drainage of which is carried
away by the above-named channels to inundate Lower Egypt.</p>
<p>I thoroughly explored the beautiful country of the Salaam and Angrab, and
on the 14th of April we pushed on for Gallabat, the frontier market-town
of Abyssinia.</p>
<p>We arrived at our old friend, the Atbara River, at the sharp angle as it
issues from the mountains. At this place it was in its infancy. The noble
Atbara, whose course we had tracked for hundreds of weary miles, and whose
tributaries we had so carefully examined, was here a second-class mountain
torrent, about equal to the Royan, and not to be named in comparison with
the Salaam or Angrab. The power of the Atbara depended entirely upon the
western drainage of the Abyssinian Alps; of itself it was insignificant
until aided by the great arteries of the mountain-chain. The junction of
the Salaam at once changed its character, and the Settite or Taccazzy
completed its importance as the great river of Abyssinia, that has washed
down the fertile soil of those regions to create the Delta of Lower Egypt,
and to perpetuate that Delta by annual deposits, that ARE NOW FORMING A
NEW EGYPT BENEATH THE WATERS OF THE MEDITERRANEAN. We had seen the Atbara
a bed of glaring sand—a mere continuation of the burning desert that
surrounded its course—fringed by a belt of withered trees, like a
monument sacred to the memory of a dead river. We had seen the sudden rush
of waters when, in the still night, the mysterious stream had invaded the
dry bed and swept all before it like an awakened giant; we knew at that
moment "the rains were falling in Abyssinia," although the sky above us
was without a cloud. We had subsequently witnessed that tremendous
rainfall, and seen the Atbara at its grandest flood. We had traced each
river and crossed each tiny stream that fed the mighty Atbara from the
mountain-chain, and we now, after our long journey, forded the Atbara in
its infancy, hardly knee-deep, over its rocky bed of about sixty yards'
width, and camped in the little village of Toganai, on the rising ground
upon the opposite side. It was evening, and we sat upon an angarep among
the lovely hills that surrounded us, and looked down upon the Atbara for
the last time, as the sun sank behind the rugged mountain of Ras el Feel
(the elephant's head). Once more I thought of that wonderful river Nile,
that could flow forever through the exhausting deserts of sand, while the
Atbara, during the summer months, shrank to a dry skeleton, although the
powerful affluents, the Salaam and the Settite, never ceased to flow;
every drop of their waters was evaporated by the air and absorbed by the
desert sand in the bed of the Atbara, two hundred miles above its junction
with the Nile!</p>
<p>The Atbara exploration was completed, and I looked forward to the fresh
enterprise of exploring new rivers and lower latitudes, that should
unravel the mystery of the Nile!</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XII. </h2>
<p>Abyssinian slave-girls—Khartoum—The Soudan under Egyptian rule—Slave-trade
in the Soudan—The obstacles ahead.</p>
<p>A rapid march of sixteen miles brought us to Metemma or Gallabat. As we
descended the valley we perceived great crowds of people in and about the
town, which, in appearance, was merely a repetition of Katariff. It was
market-day, and as we descended the hill and arrived in the scene below,
with our nine camels heavily laden with the heads and horns of a multitude
of different beasts, from the gaping jaws of hippopotami to the
vicious-looking heads of rhinoceroses and buffaloes, while the skins of
lions and various antelopes were piled above masses of the much-prized
hide of the rhinoceros, we were beset by crowds of people, who were
curious to know whence so strange a party had come. We formed a regular
procession through the market, our Tokrooris feeling quite at home among
so many of their brethren.</p>
<p>While here I visited the establishments of the various slave merchants.
These were arranged under large tents formed of matting, and contained
many young girls of extreme beauty, ranging from nine to seventeen years
of age. These lovely captives, of a rich brown tint, with delicately
formed features, and eyes like those of the gazelle, were natives of the
Galla, on the borders of Abyssinia, from which country they were brought
by the Abyssinian traders to be sold for the Turkish harems. Although
beautiful, these girls are useless for hard labor; they quickly fade away,
and die unless kindly treated. They are the Venuses of that country, and
not only are their faces and figures perfection, but they become extremely
attached to those who show them kindness, and they make good and faithful
wives. There is something peculiarly captivating in the natural grace and
softness of these young beauties, whose hearts quickly respond to those
warmer feelings of love that are seldom known among the sterner and
coarser tribes. Their forms are peculiarly elegant and graceful; the hands
and feet are exquisitely delicate; the nose is generally slightly
aquiline, the nostrils large and finely shaped; the hair is black and
glossy, reaching to about the middle of the back, but rather coarse in
texture. These girls, although natives of Galla, invariably call
themselves Abyssinians, and are generally known under that name. They are
exceedingly proud and high-spirited, and are remarkably quick at learning.
At Khartoum several of the Europeans of high standing have married these
charming ladies, who have invariably rewarded their husbands by great
affection and devotion. The price of one of these beauties of nature at
Gallabat was from twenty-five to forty dollars!</p>
<p>On the march from Gallabat to the Rahad River I was so unfortunate as to
lose my two horses, Gazelle and Aggahr. The sudden change of food from dry
grass to the young herbage which had appeared after a few showers, brought
on inflammation of the bowels, which carried them off in a few hours. We
now travelled for upward of a hundred miles along the bank of the Rahad,
through a monotonous scene of flat alluvial soil. The entire country would
be a Mine of wealth were it planted with cotton, Which could be
transported by river to Katariff, and thence directly to Souakim.</p>
<p>I shall not weary the reader with the details of the rest of our journey
to Khartoum, the capital of the Soudan provinces, at which we arrived on
the 11th of June.</p>
<p>The difference between the appearance of Khartoum at the distance of a
mile, with the sun shining upon the bright river Nile in the foreground,
and its appearance upon close inspection, was equal to the difference in
the scenery of a theatre as regarded from the boxes or from the stage.
Even that painful exposure of an optical illusion would be trifling
compared with the imposture of Khartoum. The sense of sight had been
deceived by distance, but the sense of smell was outraged by innumerable
nuisances, when we set foot within the filthy and miserable town. After
winding through some narrow, dusty lanes, hemmed in by high walls of
sun-baked bricks that had fallen in gaps in several places, exposing
gardens of prickly pears and date palms, we at length arrived at a large
open place, that, if possible, smelt more strongly than the landing spot.
Around this square, which was full of holes where the mud had been
excavated for brick-making, were the better class of houses; this was the
Belgravia of Khartoum. In the centre of a long mud wall, ventilated by
certain attempts at frameless windows, guarded by rough wooden bars, we
perceived a large archway with closed doors. Above this entrance was a
shield, with a device that gladdened my English eyes: there was the
British lion and the unicorn! Not such a lion as I had been accustomed to
meet in his native jungles, a yellow cowardly fellow that had often slunk
away from the very prey from which I had driven him; but a real red
British lion, that, although thin and ragged in the unhealthy climate of
Khartoum, looked as though he was pluck to the back-bone.</p>
<p>This was the English Consulate. The consul was absent, in the hope of
meeting Speke and Grant in the upper Nile regions, on the road from
Zanzibar, but he had kindly placed rooms at our disposal.</p>
<p>For some months we resided at Khartoum, as it was necessary to make
extensive preparations for the White Nile expedition, and to await the
arrival of the north wind, which would enable us to start early in
December. Although the north and south winds blow alternately for six
months, and the former commences in October, it does not extend many
degrees southward until the beginning of December. This is a great
drawback to White Nile exploration, as, when near the north side of the
equator, the dry season commences in November and closes in February; thus
the departure from Khartoum should take place by a steamer in the latter
part of September. That would enable the traveller to leave Gondokoro,
lat. N. 4 "degrees" 54', shortly before November. He would then secure
three months of favorable weather for an advance inland.</p>
<p>Khartoum is a wretchedly unhealthy town, containing about thirty thousand
inhabitants, exclusive of troops. In spite of its unhealthiness and low
situation, on a level with the river at the junction of the Blue and White
Niles, it is the general emporium for the trade of the Soudan, from which
the productions of the country are transported to Lower Egypt, i.e. ivory,
hides, senna, gum arabic, and beeswax. During my experience of Khartoum it
was the hotbed of the slave-trade. It will be remarked that the exports
from the Soudan are all natural productions. There is nothing to exhibit
the industry or capacity of the natives. The ivory is the produce of
violence and robbery; the hides are the simple sun-dried skins of oxen;
the senna grows wild upon the desert; the gum arabic exudes spontaneously
from the bushes of the jungle; and the bees-wax is the produce of the only
industrious creatures in that detestable country.</p>
<p>When we regard the general aspect of the Soudan, it is extreme
wretchedness. The rainfall is uncertain and scanty; thus the country is a
desert, dependent entirely upon irrigation. Although cultivation is simply
impossible without a supply of water, one of the most onerous taxes is
that upon the sageer or water-wheel, with which the fields are irrigated
on the borders of the Nile. It would appear natural that, instead of a
tax, a premium should be offered for the erection of such means of
irrigation, which would increase the revenue by extending cultivation, the
produce of which might bear an impost. With all the talent and industry of
the native Egyptians, who must naturally depend upon the waters of the
Nile for their existence, it is extraordinary that for thousands of years
they have adhered to their original simple form of mechanical irrigation,
without improvement.</p>
<p>The general aspect of the Soudan is that of misery; nor is there a single
feature of attraction to recompense a European for the drawbacks of
pestilential climate and brutal associations. To a stranger it appears a
superlative folly that the Egyptian Government should have retained a
possession the occupation of which is wholly unprofitable, the receipts
being far below the expenditure malgre the increased taxation. At so great
a distance from the sea-coast and hemmed in by immense deserts, there is a
difficulty of transport that must nullify all commercial transactions on
an extended scale.</p>
<p>The great and most important article of commerce as an export from the
Soudan is gum arabic. This is produced by several species of mimosa, the
finest quality being a product of Kordofan; the other natural productions
exported are senna, hides, and ivory. All merchandise both to and from the
Soudan must be transported upon camels, no other animals being adapted to
the deserts. The cataracts of the Nile between Assouan and Khartoum
rendering the navigation next to impossible, camels are the only medium of
transport, and the uncertainty of procuring them without great delay is
the trader's greatest difficulty. The entire country is subject to
droughts that occasion a total desolation, and the want of pasture entails
starvation upon both cattle and camels, rendering it at certain seasons
impossible to transport the productions of the country, and thus
stagnating all enterprise. Upon existing conditions the Soudan is
worthless, having neither natural capabilities nor political importance;
but there is, nevertheless, a reason that first prompted its occupation by
the Egyptians, and that is, THE SOUDAN SUPPLIES SLAVES.</p>
<p>Without the White Nile trade Khartoum* would almost cease to exist;</p>
<p>(* This was written about twenty years ago, and does not<br/>
apply to the Khartoum of to-day. In 1869 The Khedive of<br/>
Egypt despatched an expedition under Sir Samuel Baker to<br/>
suppress slavery in the Soudan and Central Africa. To the<br/>
success of that expedition, and to the efforts of Colonel<br/>
(now General) Gordon, who succeeded to the command of the<br/>
Soudan, was owing the suppression of the traffic in slaves.<br/>
Within the last few weeks, under the stress of<br/>
circumstances, General Gordon has been forced to promise the<br/>
removal of this prohibition of slavery.—E. J. W.)<br/></p>
<p>and that trade is kidnapping and murder. The character of the Khartoumers
needs no further comment. The amount of ivory brought down from the White
Nile is a mere bagatelle as an export, the annual value being about 40,000
pounds.</p>
<p>The people for the most part enraged in the nefarious traffic of the White
Nile are Syrians, Copts, Turks, Circassians, and some few EUROPEANS. So
closely connected with the difficulties of my expedition is that accursed
slave-trade, that the so-called ivory trade of the White Nile requires an
explanation.</p>
<p>Throughout the Soudan money is exceedingly scarce and the rate of interest
exorbitant, varying, according to the securities, from thirty-six to
eighty per cent. This fact proves general poverty and dishonesty, and acts
as a preventive to all improvement. So high and fatal a rate deters all
honest enterprise, and the country must lie in ruin under such a system.
The wild speculator borrows upon such terms, to rise suddenly like a
rocket, or to fall like its exhausted stick. Thus, honest enterprise being
impossible, dishonesty takes the lead, and a successful expedition to the
White Nile is supposed to overcome all charges. There are two classes of
White Nile traders, the one possessing capital, the other being penniless
adventurers. The same system of operations is pursued by both, but that of
the former will be evident from the description of the latter.</p>
<p>A man without means forms an expedition, and borrows money for this
purpose at 100 per cent. after this fashion: he agrees to repay the lender
in ivory at one-half its market value. Having obtained the required sum,
he hires several vessels and engages from 100 to 300 men, composed of
Arabs and runaway villains from distant countries, who have found an
asylum from justice in the obscurity of Khartoum. He purchases guns and
large quantities of ammunition for his men, together with a few hundred
pounds of glass beads. The piratical expedition being complete, he pays
his men five months' wages in advance, at the rate of forty-five piastres
(nine shillings) per month, and he agrees to give them eighty piastres per
month for any period exceeding the five months for which they are paid.
His men receive their advance partly in cash and partly in cotton stuffs
for clothes at an exorbitant price. Every man has a strip of paper, upon
which is written, by the clerk of the expedition, the amount he has
received both in goods and money, and this paper he must produce at the
final settlement.</p>
<p>The vessels sail about December, and on arrival at the desired locality
the party disembark and proceed into the interior, until they arrive at
the village of some negro chief, with whom they establish an intimacy.</p>
<p>Charmed with his new friends, the power of whose weapons he acknowledges,
the negro chief does not neglect the opportunity of seeking their alliance
to attack a hostile neighbor. Marching throughout the night, guided by
their negro hosts, they bivouac within an hour's march of the unsuspecting
village doomed to an attack about half an hour before break of day. The
time arrives, and, quietly surrounding the village while its occupants are
still sleeping, they fire the grass huts in all directions and pour
volleys of musketry through the flaming thatch. Panic-stricken, the
unfortunate victims rush from their burning dwellings, and the men are
shot down like pheasants in a battue, while the women and children,
bewildered in the danger and confusion, are kidnapped and secured. The
herds of cattle, still within their kraal or "zareeba," are easily
disposed of, and are driven off with great rejoicing, as the prize of
victory. The women and children are then fastened together, and the former
secured in an instrument called a sheba, made of a forked pole, the neck
of the prisoner fitting into the fork, and secured by a cross-piece lashed
behind, while the wrists, brought together in advance of the body, are
tied to the pole. The children are then fastened by their necks with a
rope attached to the women, and thus form a living chain, in which order
they are marched to the head-quarters in company with the captured herds.</p>
<p>This is the commencement of business. Should there be ivory in any of the
huts not destroyed by the fire, it is appropriated. A general plunder
takes place. The trader's party dig up the floors of the huts to search
for iron hoes, which are generally thus concealed, as the greatest
treasure of the negroes; the granaries are overturned and wantonly
destroyed, and the hands are cut off the bodies of the slain, the more
easily to detach the copper or iron bracelets that are usually worn. With
this booty the TRADERS return to their negro ally. They have thrashed and
discomfited his enemy, which delights him; they present him with thirty or
forty head of cattle, which intoxicates him with joy, and a present of a
pretty little captive girl of about fourteen completes his happiness.</p>
<p>An attack or razzia, such as described, generally leads to a quarrel with
the negro ally, who in his turn is murdered and plundered by the trader—his
women and children naturally becoming slaves.</p>
<p>A good season for a party of a hundred and fifty men should produce about
two hundred cantars (20,000 lbs.) of ivory, valued at Khartoum at 4,000
pounds. The men being paid in slaves, the wages should be NIL, and there
should be a surplus of four or five hundred slaves for the trader's own
profit—worth on an average five to six pounds each.</p>
<p>The amiable trader returns from the White Nile to Khartoum; hands over to
his creditor sufficient ivory to liquidate the original loan of 1,000
pounds, and, already a man of capital, he commences as an independent
trader.</p>
<p>Such was the White Nile trade when I prepared to start from Khartoum on my
expedition to the Nile sources. Every one in Khartoum, with the exception
of a few Europeans, was in favor of the slave-trade, and looked with
jealous eyes upon a stranger venturing within the precincts of their holy
land—a land sacred to slavery and to every abomination and villainy
that man can commit.</p>
<p>The Turkish officials pretended to discountenance slavery; at the same
time every house in Khartoum was full of slaves, and the Egyptian officers
had been in the habit of receiving a portion of their pay in slaves,
precisely as the men employed on the White Nile were paid by their
employers. The Egyptian authorities looked upon the exploration of the
White Nile by a European traveller as an infringement of the slave
territory that resulted from espionage, and every obstacle was thrown in
my way.</p>
<p>To organize an enterprise so difficult that it had hitherto defeated the
whole world, required a careful selection of attendants, and I looked with
despair at the prospect before me. The only men procurable for escort were
the miserable cut-throats of Khartoum, accustomed to murder and pillage in
the White Nile trade, and excited not by the love of adventure, but by the
desire for plunder. To start with such men appeared mere insanity.</p>
<p>There was a still greater difficulty in connection with the White Nile.
For years the infernal traffic in slaves and its attendant horrors had
existed like a pestilence in the negro countries, and had so exasperated
the tribes that people who in former times were friendly had become
hostile to all comers. An exploration to the Nile sources was thus a march
through an enemy's country, and required a powerful force of well-armed
men. For the traders there was no great difficulty, as they took the
initiative in hostilities, and had fixed camps as "points d'appui;" but
for an explorer there was no alternative, but he must make a direct
forward march with no communications with the rear. I had but slight hope
of success without assistance from the authorities in the shape of men
accustomed to discipline. I accordingly wrote to the British consul at
Alexandria, and requested him to apply for a few soldiers and boats to aid
me in so difficult an enterprise. After some months' delay, owing to the
great distance from Khartoum, I received a reply inclosing a letter from
Ismail Pacha (the present Viceroy), the regent during the absence of Said
Pacha, REFUSING the application.</p>
<p>I confess to the enjoyment of a real difficulty. From the first I had
observed that the Egyptian authorities did not wish to encourage English
explorations of the slave-producing districts, as such examinations would
be detrimental to the traffic, and would lead to reports to the European
governments that would ultimately prohibit the trade. It was perfectly
clear that the utmost would be done to prevent my expedition from
starting. This opposition gave a piquancy to the undertaking, and I
resolved that nothing should thwart my plans. Accordingly I set to work in
earnest. I had taken the precaution to obtain an order upon the Treasury
at Khartoum for what money I required, and as ready cash performs wonders
in that country of credit and delay, I was within a few weeks ready to
start. I engaged three vessels, including two large noggurs or sailing
barges, and a good decked vessel with comfortable cabins, known by all
Nile tourists as a diahbiah.</p>
<p>On December 18th, 1862, we left Khartoum. Our course up the river was slow
and laborious. At times the boats had to be dragged by the men through the
high reeds. It is not surprising that the ancients gave up the exploration
of the Nile, when they came to the countless windings and difficulties of
the marshes. The river is like an entangled skein of thread, and the
voyage is tedious and melancholy beyond description. We did not reach
Gondokoro until February 2d. This was merely a station of the ivory
traders, occupied for two months during the year, after which time it was
deserted, the boats returning to Khartoum and the expeditions again
departing to the interior.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XIII. </h2>
<p>Gondokoro—A mutiny quelled—Arrival of Speke and Grant—The
sources of the Nile—Arab duplicity—The boy-slave's story—Saat
adopted.</p>
<p>Having landed all my stores, and housed my corn in some granaries belong
to Koorshid Aga, I took a receipt from him for the quantity, and gave him
an order to deliver one half from my depot to Speke and Grant, should they
arrive at Gondokoro during my absence in the interior. I was under an
apprehension that they might arrive by some route without my knowledge,
while I should be penetrating south.</p>
<p>There were a great number of men at Gondokoro belonging to the various
traders, who looked upon me with the greatest suspicion. They could not
believe that simple travelling was my object, and they were shortly
convinced that I was intent upon espionage in their nefarious ivory
business and slave-hunting.</p>
<p>I had heard when at Khartoum that the most advanced trading station was
fifteen days' march from Gondokoro. I now understood that the party from
that station were expected to arrive at Gondokoro in a few days, and I
determined to await them, as their ivory porters returning might carry my
baggage and save the backs of my transport animals.</p>
<p>After a few days' detention at Gondokoro I saw unmistakable sign of
discontent among my men, who had evidently been tampered with by the
different traders' parties. One evening several of the most disaffected
came to me with a complaint that they had not enough meat, and that they
must be allowed to make a razzia upon the cattle of the natives to procure
some oxen. This demand being of course refused, they retired, muttering in
an insolent manner their determination of stealing cattle with or without
my permission. I said nothing at the time, but early on the following
morning I ordered the drum to beat and the men to fall in. I made them a
short address, reminding them of the agreement made at Khartoum to follow
me faithfully, and of the compact that had been entered into, that they
were neither to indulge in slave-hunting nor in cattle-stealing. The only
effect of my address was a great outbreak of insolence on the part of the
ringleader of the previous evening. This fellow, named Eesur, was an Arab,
and his impertinence was so violent that I immediately ordered him
twenty-five lashes, as an example to the others.</p>
<p>Upon the vakeel's (Saati) advancing to seize him, there was a general
mutiny. Many of the men threw down their guns and seized sticks, and
rushed to the rescue of their tall ringleader. Saati was a little man, and
was perfectly helpless. Here was an escort! These were the men upon whom I
was to depend in hours of difficulty and danger on an expedition into
unknown regions! These were the fellows that I had considered to be
reduced "from wolves to lambs"!</p>
<p>I was determined not to be balked, but to insist upon the punishment of
the ringleader. I accordingly went toward him with the intention of
seizing him; but he, being backed by upward of forty men, had the
impertinence to attack me, rushing forward with a fury that was
ridiculous. To stop his blow and to knock him into the middle of the crowd
was not difficult, and after a rapid repetition of the dose I disabled
him, and seizing him by the throat I called to my vakeel Saati for a rope
to bind him, but in an instant I had a crowd of men upon me to rescue
their leader.</p>
<p>How the affair would have ended I cannot say; but as the scene lay within
ten yards of my boat, my wife, who was ill with fever in the cabin,
witnessed the whole affray, and seeing me surrounded, she rushed out, and
in a few moments she was in the middle of the crowd, who at that time were
endeavoring to rescue my prisoner. Her sudden appearance had a curious
effect, and calling upon several of the least mutinous to assist, she very
pluckily made her way up to me. Seizing the opportunity of an indecision
that was for the moment evinced by the crowd, I shouted to the drummer boy
to beat the drum. In an instant the drum beat, and at the top of my voice
I ordered the men to "fall in." It is curious how mechanically an order is
obeyed if given at the right moment, even in the midst of mutiny. Two
thirds of the men fell in and formed in line, while the remainder
retreated with the ringleader, Eesur, whom they led away, declaring that
he was badly hurt. The affair ended in my insisting upon all forming in
line, and upon the ringleader being brought forward. In this critical
moment Mrs. Baker, with great tact, came forward and implored me to
forgive him if he kissed my hand and begged for pardon. This compromise
completely won the men, who, although a few minutes before in open mutiny,
now called upon their ringleader, Eesur, to apologize and all would be
right. I made them rather a bitter speech, and dismissed them.</p>
<p>From that moment I felt that my expedition was fated. This outbreak was an
example of what was to follow. Previously to leaving Khartoum I had felt
convinced that I could not succeed with such villains for escort as these
Khartoumers; thus I had applied to the Egyptian authorities for a few
troops, but had been refused. I was now in an awkward position. All my men
had received five months' wages in advance, according to the custom of the
White Nile; thus I had no control over them. There were no Egyptian
authorities in Gondokoro. It was a nest of robbers, and my men had just
exhibited so pleasantly their attachment to me, and their fidelity! There
was no European beyond Gondokoro, thus I should be the only white man
among this colony of wolves; and I had in perspective a difficult and
uncertain path, where the only chance of success lay in the complete
discipline of my escort and the perfect organization of the expedition.
After the scene just enacted I felt sure that my escort would give me more
cause for anxiety than the acknowledged hostility of the natives.</p>
<p>I had been waiting at Gondokoro twelve days, expecting the arrival of
Debono's party from the south, with whom I wished to return. Suddenly, on
the 15th of February, I heard the rattle of musketry at a great distance
and a dropping fire from the south. To give an idea of the moment I must
extract verbatim from my journal as written at the time.</p>
<p>"Guns firing in the distance; Debono's ivory porters arriving, for whom I
have waited. My men rushed madly to my boat, with the report that two
white men were with them who had come from the SEA! Could they be Speke
and Grant? Off I ran, and soon met them in reality. Hurrah for old
England! They had come from the Victoria N'yanza, from which the Nile
springs.... The mystery of ages solved! With my pleasure of meeting them
is the one disappointment, that I had not met them farther on the road in
my search for them; however, the satisfaction is, that my previous
arrangements had been such as would have insured my finding them had they
been in a fix.... My projected route would have brought me vis-a-vis with
them, as they had come from the lake by the course I had proposed to
take.... All my men perfectly mad with excitement. Firing salutes as usual
with ball cartridge, they shot one of my donkeys—a melancholy
sacrifice as an offering at the completion of this geographical
discovery."</p>
<p>When I first met the two explorers they were walking along the bank of the
river toward my boats. At a distance of about a hundred yards I recognized
my old friend Speke, and with a heart beating with joy I took off my cap
and gave a welcome hurrah! as I ran toward him. For the moment he did not
recognize me. Ten years' growth of beard and mustache had worked a change;
and as I was totally unexpected, my sudden appearance in the centre of
Africa appeared to him incredible. I hardly required an introduction to
his companion, as we felt already acquainted, and after the transports of
this happy meeting we walked together to my diahbiah, my men surrounding
us with smoke and noise by keeping up an unremitting fire of musketry the
whole way. We were shortly seated on deck under the awning, and such rough
fare as could be hastily prepared was set before these two ragged,
careworn specimens of African travel, whom I looked upon with feelings of
pride as my own countrymen. As a good ship arrives in harbor, battered and
torn by a long and stormy voyage, yet sound in her frame and seaworthy to
the last, so both these gallant travellers arrived at Gondokoro. Speke
appeared the more worn of the two; he was excessively lean, but in reality
was in good, tough condition. He had walked the whole way from Zanzibar,
never having once ridden during that wearying march. Grant was in
honorable rags, his bare knees projecting through the remnants of trousers
that were an exhibition of rough industry in tailor's work. He was looking
tired and feverish, but both men had a fire in the eye that showed the
spirit that had led them through.</p>
<p>They wished to leave Gondokoro as soon as possible, en route for England,
but delayed their departure until the moon should be in a position for an
observation for determining the longitude. My boats were fortunately
engaged by me for five months, thus Speke and Grant could take charge of
them to Khartoum.</p>
<p>At the first blush on meeting them, I had considered my expedition as
terminated by having met them, and by their having accomplished the
discovery of the Nile source; but upon my congratulating them with all my
heart upon the honor they had so nobly earned, Speke and Grant with
characteristic candor and generosity gave me a map of their route, showing
that they had been unable to complete the actual exploration of the Nile,
and that a most important portion still remained to be determined. It
appeared that in N. lat. 2 "degrees" 17', they had crossed the Nile, which
they had tracked from the Victoria Lake; but the river, which from its
exit from that lake had a northern course, turned suddenly to the WEST
from Karuma Falls (the point at which they crossed it at lat. 2 "degrees"
17'). They did not see the Nile again until they arrived in N. lat. 3
"degrees" 32', which was then flowing from the west-south-west. The
natives and the King of Unyoro (Kamrasi) had assured them that the Nile
from the Victoria N'yanza, which they had crossed at Karuma, flowed
westward for several days' journey, and at length fell into a large lake
called the Luta N'zige; that this lake came from the south, and that the
Nile on entering the northern extremity almost immediately made its exit,
and as a navigable river continued its course to the north, through the
Koshi and Madi countries. Both Speke and Grant attached great importance
to this lake Luta N'zige, and the former was much annoyed that it had been
impossible for them to carry out the exploration. He foresaw that
stay-at-home geographers, who, with a comfortable arm-chair to sit in,
travel so easily with their fingers on a map, would ask him why he had not
gone from such a place to such a place? why he had not followed the Nile
to the Luta N'zige lake, and from the lake to Gondokoro? As it happened,
it was impossible for Speke and Grant to follow the Nile from Karuma: the
tribes were fighting with Kamrasi, and no strangers could have gone
through the country. Accordingly they procured their information most
carefully, completed their map, and laid down the reported lake in its
supposed position, showing the Nile as both influent and effluent
precisely as had been explained by the natives.</p>
<p>Speke expressed his conviction that the Luta N'zige must be a second
source of the Nile, and that geographers would be dissatisfied that he had
not explored it. To me this was most gratifying. I had been much
disheartened at the idea that the great work was accomplished, and that
nothing remained for exploration. I even said to Speke, "Does not one leaf
of the laurel remain for me?" I now heard that the field was not only
open, but that an additional interest was given to the exploration by the
proof that the Nile flowed out of one great lake, the Victoria, but that
it evidently must derive an additional supply from an unknown lake, as it
entered it at the NORTHERN extremity, while the body of the lake came from
the south. The fact of a great body of water such as the Luta N'zige
extending in a direct line from south to north, while the general system
of drainage of the Nile was from the same direction, showed most
conclusively that the Luta N'zige, if it existed in the form assumed, must
have an important position in the basin of the Nile.</p>
<p>My expedition had naturally been rather costly, and being in excellent
order it would have been heartbreaking to return fruitlessly. I therefore
arranged immediately for my departure, and Speke most kindly wrote in my
journal such instructions as might be useful.</p>
<p>On the 26th of February Speke and Grant sailed from Gondokoro. Our hearts
were too full to say more than a short "God bless you!" They had won their
victory; my work lay all before me. I watched their boat until it turned
the corner, and wished them in my heart all honor for their great
achievement. I trusted to sustain the name they had won for English
perseverance, and I looked forward to meeting them again in dear old
England, when I should have completed the work we had so warmly planned
together.</p>
<p>I now weighed all my baggage, and found that I had fifty-four cantars (100
lbs. each). The beads, copper, and ammunition were the terrible onus. I
therefore applied to Mahommed, the vakeel of Andrea Debono, who had
escorted Speke and Grant, and I begged his co-operation in the expedition.
Mahommed promised to accompany me, not only to his camp at Faloro, but
throughout the whole of my expedition, provided that I would assist him in
procuring ivory, and that I would give him a handsome present. All was
agreed upon, and my own men appeared in high spirits at the prospect of
joining so large a party as that of Mahommed, which mustered about two
hundred men.</p>
<p>At that time I really placed dependence upon the professions of Mahommed
and his people; they had just brought Speke and Grant with them, and had
received from them presents of a first-class double-barrelled gun and
several valuable rifles. I had promised not only to assist them in their
ivory expeditions, but to give them something very handsome in addition,
and the fact of my having upward of forty men as escort was also an
introduction, as they would be an addition to the force, which is a great
advantage in hostile countries. Everything appeared to be in good trim,
but I little knew the duplicity of these Arab scoundrels. At the very
moment that they were most friendly, they were plotting to deceive me, and
to prevent the from entering the country. They knew that, should I
penetrate the interior, the IVORY TRADE of the White Nile would be no
longer a mystery, and that the atrocities of the slave trade would be
exposed, and most likely be terminated by the intervention of European
Powers; accordingly they combined to prevent my advance, and to overthrow
my expedition completely. All the men belonging to the various traders
were determined that no Englishman should penetrate into the country;
accordingly they fraternized with my escort, and persuaded them that I was
a Christian dog that it was a disgrace for a Mahometan to serve; that they
would be starved in my service, as I would not allow them to steal cattle;
that they would have no slaves; and that I should lead them—God knew
where—to the sea, from whence Speke and Grant had started; that they
had left Zanzibar with two hundred men, and had only arrived at Gondokoro
with eighteen, thus the remainder must have been killed by the natives on
the road; that if they followed me and arrived at Zanzibar, I would find a
ship waiting to take me to England, and I would leave them to die in a
strange country. Such were the reports circulated to prevent my men from
accompanying me, and it was agreed that Mahommed should fix a day for our
pretended start IN COMPANY, but that he should in reality start a few days
before the time appointed; and that my men should mutiny, and join his
party in cattle-stealing and slave-hunting. This was the substance of the
plot thus carefully concocted.</p>
<p>My men evinced a sullen demeanor, neglected all orders, and I plainly
perceived a settled discontent upon their general expression. The donkeys
and camels were allowed to stray, and were daily missing, and recovered
with difficulty. The luggage was overrun with white ants, instead of being
attended to every morning. The men absented themselves without leave, and
were constantly in the camps of the different traders. I was fully
prepared for some difficulty, but I trusted that when once on the march I
should be able to get them under discipline.</p>
<p>Among my people were two blacks: one, "Richarn," already described as
having been brought up by the Austrian Mission at Khartoum; the other, a
boy of twelve years old, "Saat." As these were the only really faithful
members of the expedition, it is my duty to describe them. Richarn was an
habitual drunkard, but he had his good points: he was honest, and much
attached to both master and mistress. He had been with me for some months,
and was a fair sportsman, and being of an entirely different race from the
Arabs, he kept himself apart from them, and fraternized with the boy Saat.</p>
<p>Saat was a boy that would do no evil. He was honest to a superlative
degree, and a great exception to the natives of this wretched country. He
was a native of "Fertit," and was minding his father's goats, when a child
of about six years old, at the time of his capture by the Baggara Arabs.
He described vividly how men on camels suddenly appeared while he was in
the wilderness with his flock, and how he was forcibly seized and thrust
into a large gum sack and slung upon the back of a camel. Upon screaming
for help, the sack was opened, and an Arab threatened him with a knife
should he make the slightest noise. Thus quieted, he was carried hundreds
of miles through Kordofan to Dongola on the Nile, at which place he was
sold to slave-dealers and taken to Cairo to be sold to the Egyptian
government as a drummer-boy. Being too young he was rejected, and while in
the dealer's hands he heard from another slave, of the Austrian Mission at
Cairo, that would protect him could he only reach their asylum. With
extraordinary energy for a child of six years, he escaped from his master
and made his way to the Mission, where he was well received, and to a
certain extent disciplined and taught as much of the Christian religion as
he could understand. In company with a branch establishment of the
Mission, he was subsequently located at Khartoum, and from thence was sent
up the White Nile to a Mission-station in the Shillook country. The
climate of tie White Nile destroyed thirteen missionaries in the short
space of six months, and the boy Saat returned with the remnant of the
party to Khartoum and was readmitted into the Mission. The establishment
was at that time swarming with little black boys from the various White
Nile tribes, who repaid the kindness of the missionaries by stealing
everything they could lay their hands upon. At length the utter
worthlessness of the boys, their moral obtuseness, and the apparent
impossibility of improving them determined the chief of the Mission to
purge his establishment from such imps, and they were accordingly turned
out. Poor little Saat, the one grain of gold amid the mire, shared the
same fate.</p>
<p>It was about a week before our departure from Khartoum that Mrs. Baker and
I were at tea in the middle of the court-yard, when a miserable boy about
twelve years old came uninvited to her side, and knelt down in the dust at
her feet. There was something so irresistibly supplicating in the attitude
of the child that the first impulse was to give him something from the
table. This was declined, and he merely begged to be allowed to live with
us and to be our boy. He said that he had been turned out of the Mission,
merely because the Bari boys of the establishment were thieves, and thus
he suffered for their sins. I could not believe it possible that the child
had been actually turned out into the streets, and believing that the
fault must lie in the boy, I told him I would inquire. In the mean time he
was given in charge of the cook.</p>
<p>It happened that on the following day I was so much occupied that I forgot
to inquire at the Mission, and once more the cool hour of evening arrived,
when, after the intense heat of the day, we sat at table in the open
court-yard. Hardly were we seated when again the boy appeared, kneeling in
the dust, with his head lowered at my wife's feet, and imploring to be
allowed to follow us. It was in vain that I explained that we had a boy
and did not require another; that the journey was long and difficult, and
that he might perhaps die. The boy feared nothing, and craved simply that
he might belong to us. He had no place of shelter, no food; had been
stolen from his parents, and was a helpless outcast.</p>
<p>The next morning, accompanied by Mrs. Baker, I went to the Mission and
heard that the boy had borne an excellent character, and that it must have
been BY MISTAKE that he had been turned out with the others. This being
conclusive, Saat was immediately adopted. Mrs. Baker was shortly at work
making him some useful clothes, and in an incredibly short time a great
change was effected. As he came from the hands of the cook, after a
liberal use of soap and water, and attired in trousers, blouse, and belt,
the new boy appeared in a new character.</p>
<p>From that time he considered himself as belonging absolutely to his
mistress. He was taught by her to sew. Richarn instructed him in the
mysteries of waiting at table, and washing plates, etc., while I taught
him to shoot, and gave him a light double-barrelled gun. This was his
greatest pride.</p>
<p>Not only was the boy trustworthy, but he had an extraordinary amount of
moral in addition to physical courage. If any complaint were made, and
Saat was called as a witness, far from the shyness too often evinced when
the accuser is brought face to face with the accused, such was Saat's
proudest moment; and, no matter who the man might be, the boy would
challenge him, regardless of all consequences.</p>
<p>We were very fond of this boy; he was thoroughly good, and in that land of
iniquity, thousands of miles away from all except what was evil, there was
a comfort in having some one innocent and faithful in whom to trust.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XIV. </h2>
<p>Startling disclosures—The last hope seems gone—The Bari
chief's advice—Hoping for the best—Ho for Central Africa!</p>
<p>We were to start upon the following Monday. Mahommed had paid me a visit,
assuring me of his devotion, and begging me to have my baggage in marching
order, as he would send me fifty porters on Monday, and we would move off
in company. At the very moment that he thus professed, he was coolly
deceiving me. He had arranged to start without me on Saturday, while he
was proposing to march together on Monday. This I did not know at the
time.</p>
<p>One morning I had returned to the tent after having, as usual, inspected
the transport animals, when I observed Mrs. Baker looking extraordinarily
pale, and immediately upon my arrival she gave orders for the presence of
the vakeel (headman). There was something in her manner so different from
her usual calm, that I was utterly bewildered when I heard her question
the vakeel, whether the men were willing to march. "Perfectly ready," was
the reply. "Then order them to strike the tent and load the animals; we
start this moment."</p>
<p>The man appeared confused, but not more so than I. Something was evidently
on foot, but what I could not conjecture. The vakeel wavered, and to my
astonishment I heard the accusation made against him that during the night
the whole of the escort had mutinously conspired to desert me, with my
arms and ammunition that were in their hands, and to fire simultaneously
at me should I attempt to disarm them. At first this charge was
indignantly denied, until the boy Saat manfully stepped forward and
declared that the conspiracy was entered into by the whole of the escort,
and that both he and Richarn, knowing that mutiny was intended, had
listened purposely to the conversation during the night; at daybreak the
boy reported the fact to his mistress. Mutiny, robbery, and murder were
thus deliberately determined.</p>
<p>I immediately ordered an angarep (travelling bedstead) to be placed
outside the tent under a large tree. Upon this I laid five
double-barrelled guns loaded with buckshot, a revolver, and a naked sabre
as sharp as a razor. A sixth rifle I kept in my hands while I sat upon the
angarep, with Richarn and Saat both with double-barrelled guns behind me.
Formerly I had supplied each of my men with a piece of mackintosh
waterproof to be tied over the locks of their guns during the march. I now
ordered the drum to be beaten, and all the men to form in line in marching
order, with their locks TIED UP IN THE WATERPROOF. I requested Mrs. Baker
to stand behind me and point out any man who should attempt to uncover his
locks when I should give the order to lay down their arms. The act of
uncovering the locks would prove his intention, in which event I intended
to shoot him immediately and take my chance with the rest of the
conspirators.</p>
<p>I had quite determined that these scoundrels should not rob me of my own
arms and ammunition, if I could prevent it.</p>
<p>The drum beat, and the vakeel himself went into the men's quarters and
endeavored to prevail upon them to answer the call. At length fifteen
assembled in line; the others were nowhere to be found. The locks of the
arms were secured by mackintosh as ordered. It was thus impossible for any
man to fire at me until he should have released his locks.</p>
<p>Upon assembling in line I ordered them immediately to lay down their arms.
This, with insolent looks of defiance, they refused to do. "Down with your
guns thus moment," I shouted, "sons of dogs!" And at the sharp click of
the locks, as I quickly cocked the rifle that I held in my hands, the
cowardly mutineers widened their line and wavered. Some retreated a few
paces to the rear; others sat down and laid their guns on the ground,
while the remainder slowly dispersed, and sat in twos or singly, under the
various trees about eighty paces distant. Taking advantage of their
indecision, I immediately rose and ordered my vakeel and Richarn to disarm
them as they were thus scattered. Foreseeing that the time had arrived for
actual physical force, the cowards capitulated, agreeing to give up their
arms and ammunition if I would give them their written discharge. I
disarmed them immediately, and the vakeel having written a discharge for
the fifteen men present, I wrote upon each paper the word "mutineer" above
my signature. None of them being able to read, and this being written in
English, they unconsciously carried the evidence of their own guilt, which
I resolved to punish should I ever find them on my return to Khartoum.</p>
<p>Thus disarmed, they immediately joined other of the traders' parties.
These fifteen men were the "Jalyns" of my party, the remainder being
Dongolowas—all Arabs of the Nile, north of Khartoum. The Dongolowas
had not appeared when summoned by the drum, and my vakeel being of their
nation, I impressed upon him his responsibility for the mutiny, and that
he would end his days in prison at Khartoum should my expedition fail.</p>
<p>The boy Saat and Richarn now assured me that the men had intended to fire
at me, but that they were frightened at seeing us thus prepared, but that
I must not expect one man of the Dongolowas to be any more faithful than
the Jalyns. I ordered the vakeel to hunt up the men and to bring me their
guns, threatening that if they refused I would shoot any man that I found
with one of my guns in his hands.</p>
<p>There was no time for mild measures. I had only Saat (a mere child) and
Richarn upon whom I could depend; and I resolved with them alone to
accompany Mahommed's people to the interior, and to trust to good fortune
for a chance of proceeding.</p>
<p>I was feverish and ill with worry and anxiety, and I was lying down upon
my mat when I suddenly heard guns firing in all directions, drums beating,
and the customary signs of either an arrival or departure of a trading
party. Presently a messenger arrived from Koorshid Aga, the Circassian, to
announce the departure of Mahommed's party without me, and my vakeel
appeared with a message from the same people, that if I followed on their
road (my proposed route) they would fire upon me and my party, as they
would allow no English spies in their country.</p>
<p>My last hope seemed gone. No expedition had ever been more carefully
planned; everything had been well arranged to insure success. My transport
animals were in good condition, their saddles and pads had been made under
my own inspection, my arms, ammunition, and supplies were abundant, and I
was ready to march at five minutes' notice to any part of Africa; but the
expedition, so costly and so carefully organized, was completely ruined by
the very people whom I had engaged to protect it. They had not only
deserted, but they had conspired to murder. There was no law in these wild
regions but brute force; human life was of no value; murder was a pastime,
as the murderer could escape all punishment. Mr. Petherick's vakeel had
just been shot dead by one of his own men, and such events were too common
to create much attention. We were utterly helpless, the whole of the
people against us, and openly threatening. For myself personally I had no
anxiety; but the fact of Mrs. Baker's being with me was my greatest care.
I dared not think of her position in the event of my death among such
savages as those around her. These thoughts were shared by her; but she,
knowing that I had resolved to succeed, never once hinted an advice for
retreat.</p>
<p>Richarn was as faithful as Saat, and I accordingly confided in him my
resolution to leave all my baggage in charge of a friendly chief of the
Baris at Gondokoro, and to take two fast dromedaries for him and Saat, and
two horses for Mrs. Baker and myself, and to make a push through the
hostile tribe for three days, to arrive among friendly people at "Moir,"
from which place I trusted to fortune. I arranged that the dromedaries
should carry a few beads, ammunition, and the astronomical instruments.</p>
<p>Richarn said the idea was very mad; that the natives would do nothing for
beads; that he had had great experience on the White Nile when with a
former master, and that the natives would do nothing without receiving
cows as payment; that it was of no use to be good to them, as they had no
respect for any virtue but "force;" that we should most likely be
murdered; but that if I ordered him to go, he was ready to obey.</p>
<p>I was delighted with Richarn's rough and frank fidelity. Ordering the
horses to be brought, I carefully pared their feet. Their hard flinty
hoofs, that had never felt a shoe, were in excellent order for a gallop,
if necessary. All being ready, I sent for the chief of Gondokoro.
Meanwhile a Bari boy arrived, sent by Koorshid Aga, to act as my
interpreter.</p>
<p>The Bari chief was, as usual, smeared all over with red ochre and fat, and
had the shell of a small land tortoise suspended to his elbow as an
ornament. I proposed to him my plan of riding quickly through the Bari
tribe to Moir. He replied, "Impossible! If I were to beat the great
nogaras (drums), and call my people together to explain who you are, they
would not hurt you; but there are many petty chiefs who do not obey me,
and their people would certainly attack you when crossing some swollen
torrent, and what could you do with only a man and a boy?"</p>
<p>His reply to my question concerning the value of beads corroborated
Richarn's statement: nothing could be purchased for anything but cattle.
The traders had commenced the system of stealing herds of cattle from one
tribe to barter with the next neighbor; thus the entire country was in
anarchy and confusion, and beads were of no value. My plan for a dash
through the country was impracticable.</p>
<p>I therefore called my vakeel, and threatened him with the gravest
punishment on my return to Khartoum. I wrote to Sir R. Colquhoun, H.M.
Consul-General for Egypt, which letter I sent by one of the return boats,
and I explained to my vakeel that the complaint to the British authorities
would end in his imprisonment, and that in case of my death through
violence he would assuredly be hanged. After frightening him thoroughly, I
suggested that he should induce some of the mutineers, who were Dongolowas
(his own tribe), many of whom were his relatives, to accompany me, in
which case I would forgive them their past misconduct.</p>
<p>In the course of the afternoon he returned with the news that he had
arranged with seventeen of the men, but that they refused to march toward
the south, and would accompany me to the east if I wished to explore that
part of the country. Their plea for refusing a southern route was the
hostility of the Bari tribe. They also proposed a condition, that I should
"LEAVE ALL MY TRANSPORT ANIMALS AND BAGGAGE BEHIND ME." To this insane
request, which completely nullified their offer to start, I only replied
by vowing vengeance against the vakeel.</p>
<p>The time was passed by the men in vociferously quarrelling among
themselves during the day and in close conference with the vakeel during
the night, the substance of which was reported on the following morning by
the faithful Saat. The boy recounted their plot. They agreed to march to
the east, with the intention of deserting me at the station of a trader
named Chenooda, seven days' march from Gondokoro, in the Latooka country,
whose men were, like themselves, Dongolowas; they had conspired to mutiny
at that place and to desert to the slave-hunting party with my arms and
ammunition, and to shoot me should I attempt to disarm them. They also
threatened to shoot my vakeel, who now, through fear of punishment at
Khartoum, exerted his influence to induce them to start. Altogether it was
a pleasant state of things.</p>
<p>I was determined at all hazards to start from Gondokoro for the interior.
From long experience with natives of wild countries I did not despair of
obtaining an influence over my men, however bad, could I once quit
Gondokoro and lead them among the wild and generally hostile tribes of the
country. They would then be separated from the contagion of the
slave-hunting parties, and would feel themselves dependent upon me for
guidance. Accordingly I professed to believe in their promises to
accompany me to the east, although I knew of their conspiracy; and I
trusted that by tact and good management I should eventually thwart all
their plans, and, although forced out of my intended course, should be
able to alter my route and to work round from the east to my original plan
of operations south. The interpreter given by Koorshid Aga had absconded;
this was a great loss, as I had no means of communication with the natives
except by casually engaging a Bari in the employment of the traders, to
whom I was obliged to pay exorbitantly in copper bracelets for a few
minutes' conversation.</p>
<p>A party of Koorshid's people had just arrived with ivory from the Latooka
country, bringing with them a number of that tribe as porters. They were
to return shortly, but they not only refused to allow me to accompany
them, but they declared their intention of forcibly repelling me, should I
attempt to advance by their route. This was a good excuse for my men, who
once more refused to proceed. By pressure upon the vakeel they again
yielded, but on condition that I would take one of the mutineers named
"Bellaal," who wished to join them, but whose offer I had refused, as he
had been a notorious ringleader in every mutiny. It was a sine qua non
that he was to go; and knowing the character of the man, I felt convinced
that it had been arranged that he should head the mutiny conspired to be
enacted upon our arrival at Chenooda's camp in the Latooka country.</p>
<p>The plan that I had arranged was to leave all the baggage not
indispensable with Koorshid Aga at Gondokoro, who would return it to
Khartoum. I intended to wait until Koorshid's party should march, when I
resolved to follow them, as I did not believe they would dare to oppose me
by force, their master himself being friendly. I considered their threats
as mere idle boasting to frighten me from an attempt to follow them; but
there was another more serious cause of danger to be apprehended.</p>
<p>On the route between Gondokoro and Latooka there was a powerful tribe
among the mountains of Ellyria. The chief of that tribe (Legge) had
formerly massacred a hundred and twenty of a trader's party. He was an
ally of Koorshid's people, who declared that they would raise the tribe
against me, which would end in the defeat or massacre of my party. There
was a difficult pass through the mountains of Ellyria which it would be
impossible to force; thus my small party of seventeen men would be
helpless. It would be merely necessary for the traders to request the
chief of Ellyria to attack my party to insure its destruction, as the
plunder of the baggage would be an ample reward.</p>
<p>There was no time for deliberation. Both the present and the future looked
as gloomy as could be imagined; but I had always expected extraordinary
difficulties, and they were, if possible, to be surmounted. It was useless
to speculate upon chances. There was no hope of success in inaction, and
the only resource was to drive through all obstacles without calculating
the risk.</p>
<p>The day arrived for the departure of Koorshid's people. They commenced
firing their usual signals, the drums beat, the Turkish ensign led the
way, and they marched at 2 o'clock P.M., sending a polite message "DARING"
me to follow them.</p>
<p>I immediately ordered the tent to be struck, the luggage to be arranged,
the animals to be collected, and everything to be ready for the march.
Richarn and Saat were in high spirits; even my unwilling men were obliged
to work, and by 7 P.M. we were all ready.</p>
<p>We had neither guide nor interpreter. Not one native was procurable, all
being under the influence of the traders, who had determined to render our
advance utterly impossible by preventing the natives from assisting us.
All had been threatened, and we, perfectly helpless, commenced the
desperate journey in darkness about an hour after sunset.</p>
<p>"Where shall we go?" said the men, just as the order was given to start.
"Who can travel without a guide? No one knows the road." The moon was up,
and the mountain of Belignan was distinctly visible about nine miles
distant. Knowing that the route lay on the east side of that mountain, I
led the way, Mrs. Baker riding by my side, and the British flag following
close behind us as a guide for the caravan of heavily laden camels and
donkeys. And thus we started on our march into Central Africa on the 26th
of March, 1863.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XV. </h2>
<p>A start made at last—A forced march—Lightening the ship—Waiting
for the caravan—Success hangs in the balance—The greatest
rascal in Central Africa—Legge demands another bottle.</p>
<p>The country was park-like, but much parched by the dry weather. The ground
was sandy, but firm, and interspersed with numerous villages, all of which
were surrounded with a strong fence of euphorbia. The country was well
wooded, being free from bush or jungle, but numerous trees, all
evergreens, were scattered over the landscape. No natives were to be seen
but the sound of their drums and singing in chorus was heard in the far
distance. Whenever it is moonlight the nights are passed in singing and
dancing, beating drums, blowing horns, and the population of whole
villages thus congregate together.</p>
<p>After a silent march of two hours we saw watchfires blazing in the
distance, and upon nearer approach we perceived the trader's party
bivouacked. Their custom is to march only two or three hours on the first
day of departure, to allow stragglers who may have lagged behind in
Gondokoro to rejoin the party before morning.</p>
<p>We were roughly challenged by their sentries as we passed, and were
instantly told "not to remain in their neighborhood." Accordingly we
passed on for about half a mile in advance, and bivouacked on some rising
ground above a slight hollow in which we found water.</p>
<p>The following morning was clear, and the mountain of Belignan, within
three or four miles, was a fine object to direct our course. I could
distinctly see some enormous trees at the foot of the mountain near a
village, and I hastened forward, as I hoped to procure a guide who would
also act as interpreter, many of the natives in the vicinity of Gondokoro
having learned a little Arabic from the traders. We cantered on ahead of
the party, regardless of the assurance of our unwilling men that the
natives were not to be trusted, and we soon arrived beneath the shade of a
cluster of most superb trees. The village was within a quarter of a mile,
situated at the very base of the abrupt mountain. The natives seeing us
alone had no fear, and soon thronged around us. The chief understood a few
words of Arabic, and I offered a large payment of copper bracelets and
beads for a guide. After much discussion and bargaining a bad-looking
fellow offered to guide us to Ellyria, but no farther. This was about
twenty-eight or thirty miles distant, and it was of vital importance that
we should pass through that tribe before the trader's party should raise
them against us. I had great hopes of outmarching the trader's party, as
they would be delayed in Belignan by ivory transactions with the chief.</p>
<p>At that time the Turks were engaged in business transactions with the
natives; it was therefore all important that I should start immediately,
and by a forced march arrive at Ellyria and get through the pass before
they should communicate with the chief. I had no doubt that by paying
blackmail I should be able to clear Ellyria, provided I was in advance of
the Turks; but should they outmarch me, there would be no hope; a fight
and defeat would be the climax. I accordingly gave orders for an IMMEDIATE
start. "Load the camels, my brothers!" I exclaimed to the sullen ruffians
around me; but not a man stirred except Richarn and a fellow named Sali,
who began to show signs of improvement. Seeing that the men intended to
disobey, I immediately set to work myself loading the animals, requesting
my men not to trouble themselves, and begging them to lie down and smoke
their pipes while I did the work. A few rose from the ground ashamed and
assisted to load the camels, while the others declared it an impossibility
for camels to travel by the road we were about to take, as the Turks had
informed them that not even the donkeys could march through the thick
jungles between Belignan and Ellyria.</p>
<p>"All right, my brothers!" I replied; "then we'll march as far as the
donkeys can go, and leave both them and the baggage on the road when they
can go no farther; but I GO FORWARD."</p>
<p>With sullen discontent the men began to strap on their belts and cartouche
boxes and prepare for the start. The animals were loaded, and we moved
slowly forward at 4.30 P.M. We had just started with the Bari guide that I
had engaged at Belignan, when we were suddenly joined by two of the
Latookas whom I had seen when at Gondokoro and to whom I had been very
civil. It appeared that these follows, who were acting as porters to the
Turks, had been beaten, and had therefore absconded and joined me. This
was extraordinary good fortune, as I now had guides the whole way to
Latooka, about ninety miles distant. I immediately gave them each a copper
bracelet and some beads, and they very good-naturedly relieved the camels
of one hundred pounds of copper rings, which they carried in two baskets
on their heads.</p>
<p>We now crossed the broad dry bed of a torrent, and the banks being steep a
considerable time was occupied in assisting the loaded animals in their
descent. The donkeys were easily aided, their tails being held by two men
while they shuffled and slid down the sandy banks; but every camel fell,
and the loads had to be carried up the opposite bank by the men, and the
camels reloaded on arrival. Here again the donkeys had the advantage, as
without being unloaded they were assisted up the steep ascent by two men
in front pulling at their ears, while others pushed behind. Altogether the
donkeys were far more suitable for the country, as they were more easily
loaded. The facility of loading is all-important, and I now had an
exemplification of its effect upon both animals and men. The latter began
to abuse the camels and to curse the father of this and the mother of that
because they had the trouble of unloading them for the descent into the
river's bed, while the donkeys were blessed with the endearing name of "my
brother," and alternately whacked with the stick.</p>
<p>For some miles we passed through a magnificent forest of large trees. The
path being remarkably good, the march looked propitious. This good
fortune, however, was doomed to change. We shortly entered upon thick
thorny jungles. The path was so overgrown that the camels could scarcely
pass under the overhanging branches, and the leather bags of provisions
piled upon their backs were soon ripped by the hooked thorns of the
mimosa. The salt, rice, and coffee bags all sprang leaks, and small
streams of these important stores issued from the rents which the men
attempted to repair by stuffing dirty rags into the holes. These thorns
were shaped like fishhooks; thus it appeared that the perishable baggage
must soon become an utter wreck, as the great strength and weight of the
camels bore all before them, and sometimes tore the branches from the
trees, the thorns becoming fixed in the leather bags. Meanwhile the
donkeys walked along in comfort, being so short that they and their loads
were below the branches.</p>
<p>My wife and I rode about a quarter of a mile at the head of the party as
an advance guard, to warn the caravan of any difficulty. The very nature
of the country showed that it must be full of ravines, and yet I could not
help hoping against hope that we might have a clear mile of road without a
break. The evening had passed, and the light faded. What had been
difficult and tedious during the day now became most serious; we could not
see the branches of hooked thorns that over-hung the broken path. I rode
in advance, my face and arms bleeding with countless scratches, while at
each rip of a thorn I gave a warning shout—"Thorn!" for those
behind, and a cry of "Hole!" for any deep rut that lay in the path. It was
fortunately moonlight; but the jungle was so thick that the narrow track
was barely perceptible; thus both camels and donkeys ran against the
trunks of trees, smashing the luggage and breaking all that could be
broken. Nevertheless the case was urgent; march we must at all hazards.</p>
<p>My heart sank whenever we cane to a deep ravine or hor; the warning cry of
"halt" told those in the rear that once more the camels must be unloaded
and the same fatiguing operation must be repeated. For hours we marched;
the moon was sinking; the path, already dark, grew darker; the animals,
overloaded even for a good road, were tired out, and the men were
disheartened, thirsty, and disgusted. Everything was tired out. I had been
working like a slave to assist and to cheer the men; I was also fatigued.
We had marched from 4.30 P.M—it was now 1 A.M.; we had thus been
eight hours and a half struggling along the path. The moon had sunk, and
the complete darkness rendered a further advance impossible; therefore, on
arrival at a large plateau of rock, I ordered the animals to be unloaded
and both man and beast to rest.</p>
<p>Every one lay down supperless to sleep. Although tired, I could not rest
until I had arranged some plan for the morrow. It was evident that we
could not travel over so rough a country with the animals thus overloaded;
I therefore determined to leave in the jungle such articles as could be
dispensed with, and to rearrange all the loads.</p>
<p>At 4 A.M. I awoke, and lighting a lamp I tried in vain to wake any of the
men, who lay stretched upon the ground like so many corpses, sound asleep.</p>
<p>I threw away about 100 lbs. of salt, divided the heavy ammunition more
equally among the animals, rejected a quantity of odds and ends that,
although most useful, could be forsaken, and by the time the men awoke, a
little before sunrise, I had completed the work. We now reloaded the
animals, who showed the improvement by stepping out briskly. We marched
well for three hours at a pace that bade fair to keep us well ahead of the
Turks, and at length we reached the dry bed of a stream, where the Latooka
guides assured us we should obtain water by digging. This proved correct;
but the holes were dug deep in several places, and hours passed before we
could secure a sufficient supply for all the men and animals. Ascending
from this place about a mile we came to the valley of Tollogo. We passed
the night in a village of the friendly natives, and were off again bright
and early. On reaching the extremity of the valley we had to thread our
way through the difficult pass. Had the natives been really hostile they
could have exterminated us in five minutes, as it was only necessary to
hurl rocks from above to insure our immediate destruction. It was in this
spot that a trader's party of one hundred and twenty-six men, well armed,
had been massacred to a man the year previous.</p>
<p>Bad as the pass was, we had hope before us, as the Latookas explained that
beyond this spot there was level and unbroken ground the whole way to
Latooka. Could we only clear Ellyria before the Turks, I had no fear for
the present; but at the very moment when success depended upon speed we
were thus baffled by the difficulties of the ground. I therefore resolved
to ride on in advance of my party, leaving them to overcome the
difficulties of the pass by constantly unloading the animals, while I
would reconnoitre in front, as Ellyria was not far distant. My wife and I
accordingly rode on, accompanied only by one of the Latookas as a guide.
After turning a sharp angle of the mountain, leaving the cliff abruptly
rising to the left from the narrow path, we descended a ravine worse than
any place we had previously encountered, and were obliged to dismount in
order to lead our horses up the steep rocks on the opposite side. On
arrival at the summit a lovely view burst upon us. The valley of Ellyria
was about four hundred feet below, at about a mile distant. Beautiful
mountains, some two or three thousand feet high, of gray granite, walled
in the narrow vale, while the landscape of forest and plain was bounded at
about fifty or sixty miles' distance to the east by the blue mountains of
Latooka. The mountain of Ellyria was the commencement of the fine range
that continued indefinitely to the south. The whole country was a series
of natural forts occupied by a large population. A glance at the scene
before me was quite sufficient. To FIGHT a way through a valley a quarter
of a mile wide, hemmed in by high walls of rock and bristling with lances
and arrows, would be impossible with my few men, encumbered by transport
animals. Should the camels arrive I could march into Ellyria in twenty
minutes, make the chief a large present, and pass on without halting until
I cleared the Ellyria valley. At any rate I was well before the Turks, and
the forced march at night, however distressing, had been successful. The
great difficulty now lay in the ravine that we had just crossed; this
would assuredly delay the caravan for a considerable time.</p>
<p>Tying our horses to a bush, we sat upon a rock beneath the shade of a
small tree within ten paces of the path, and considered the best course to
pursue. I hardly liked to risk an advance into Ellyria alone before the
arrival of my whole party, as we had been very rudely received by the
Tollogo people on the previous evening; nevertheless I thought it might be
good policy to ride unattended into Ellyria, and thus to court an
introduction to the chief. However, our consultation ended in a
determination to wait where we then were until the caravan should have
accomplished the last difficulty by crossing the ravine, when we would all
march into Ellyria in company. For a long time we sat gazing at the valley
before us in which our fate lay hidden, feeling thankful that we had thus
checkmated the brutal Turks. Not a sound was heard of our approaching
camels; the delay was most irksome. There were many difficult places that
we had passed through, and each would be a source of serious delay to the
animals.</p>
<p>At length we heard them in the distance. We could distinctly hear the
men's voices, and we rejoiced that they were approaching the last
remaining obstacle; that one ravine passed through, and all before would
be easy. I heard the rattling of the stones as they drew nearer, and
looking toward the ravine I saw emerge from the dark foliage of the trees
within fifty yards of us the hated RED FLAG AND CRESCENT LEADING THE
TURK'S PARTY! We were outmarched!</p>
<p>One by one, with scowling looks, the insolent scoundrels filed by us
within a few feet, without making the customary salaam, neither noticing
us in any way, except by threatening to shoot the Latooka, our guide, who
had formerly accompanied them.</p>
<p>Their party consisted of a hundred and forty men armed with guns, while
about twice as many Latookas acted as porters, carrying beads, ammunition,
and the general effects of the party. It appeared that we were hopelessly
beaten.</p>
<p>However, I determined to advance at all hazards on the arrival of my
party, and should the Turks incite the Ellyria tribe to attack us, I
intended, in the event of a fight, to put the first shot through the
leader. To be thus beaten at the last moment was unendurable. Boiling with
indignation as the insolent wretches filed past, treating me with the
contempt of a dog, I longed for the moment of action, no matter what were
the odds against us. At length their leader, Ibrahim, appeared in the rear
of the party. He was riding on a donkey, being the last of the line,
behind the flag that closed the march.</p>
<p>I never saw a more atrocious countenance than that exhibited in this man.
A mixed breed, between a Turk sire and all Arab mother, he had the good
features and bad qualities of either race—the fine, sharp,
high-arched nose and large nostril, the pointed and projecting chin,
rather high cheek-bones and prominent brow, overhanging a pair of immense
black eyes full of expression of all evil. As he approached he took no
notice of us, but studiously looked straight before him with the most
determined insolence.</p>
<p>The fate of the expedition was at this critical moment retrieved by Mrs.
Baker. She implored me to call him, to insist upon a personal explanation,
and to offer him some present in the event of establishing amicable
relations. I could not condescend to address the sullen scoundrel. He was
in the act of passing us, and success depended upon that instant. Mrs.
Baker herself called him. For the moment he made no reply; but upon my
repeating the call in a loud key he turned his donkey toward us and
dismounted. I ordered him to sit down, as his men were ahead and we were
alone.</p>
<p>The following dialogue passed between us after the usual Arab mode of
greeting. I said: "Ibrahim, why should we be enemies in the midst of this
hostile country? We believe in the same God; why should we quarrel in this
land of heathens, who believe in no God? You have your work to perform; I
have mine. You want ivory; I am a simple traveller; why should we clash?
If I were offered the whole ivory of the country I would not accept a
single tusk, nor interfere with you in any way. Transact your business,
and don't interfere with me; the country is wide enough for us both. I
have a task before me, to reach a great lake—the head of the Nile.
Reach it I WILL(Inshallah). No power shall drive me back. If you are
hostile I will imprison you in Khartoum; if you assist me I will reward
you far beyond any reward you have ever received. Should I be killed in
this country, you will be suspected. You know the result: the Government
would hang you on the bare suspicion. On the contrary, if you are friendly
I will use my influence in any country that I discover, that you may
procure its ivory for the sake of your master, Koorshid, who was generous
to Captains Speke and Grant, and kind to me. Should you be hostile, I
shall hold your master responsible as your employer. Should you assist me,
I will befriend you both. Choose your course frankly, like a man—friend
or enemy?"</p>
<p>Before he had time to reply, Mrs. Baker addressed him much in the same
strain, telling him that he did not know what Englishmen were; that
nothing would drive them back; that the British Government watched over
them wherever they might be, and that no outrage could be committed with
impunity upon a British subject; that I would not deceive him in any way;
that I was not a trader; and that I should be able to assist him
materially by discovering new countries rich in ivory, and that he would
benefit himself personally by civil conduct.</p>
<p>He seemed confused, and wavered. I immediately promised him a new
double-barrelled gun and some gold when my party should arrive, as an
earnest of the future.</p>
<p>He replied that he did not himself wish to be hostile, but that all the
trading parties, without one exception, were against me, and that the men
were convinced that I was a consul in disguise, who would report to the
authorities at Khartoum all the proceedings of the traders. He continued
that he believed me, but that his men would not; that all people told lies
in their country, therefore no one was credited for the truth. "However,"
said he, "do not associate with my people, or they may insult you; but go
and take possession of that large tree (pointing to one in the valley of
Ellyria) for yourself and people, and I will come there and speak with
you. I will now join my men, as I do not wish them to know that I have
been conversing with you." He then made a salaam, mounted his donkey, and
rode off.</p>
<p>I had won him. I knew the Arab character so thoroughly that I was
convinced that the tree he had pointed out, followed by the words, "I will
come there and speak to you," was to be the rendezvous for the receipt of
the promised gun and money.</p>
<p>I did not wait for the arrival of my men, but mounting our horses, my wife
and I rode down the hillside with lighter spirits than we had enjoyed for
some time past. I gave her the entire credit of the "ruse." Had I been
alone I should have been too proud to have sought the friendship of the
sullen trader, and the moment on which success depended would leave been
lost.</p>
<p>On arrival at the grassy plain at the foot of the mountain there was a
crowd of the trader's ruffians quarrelling for the shale of a few large
trees that grew on the banks of the stream. We accordingly dismounted, and
turning the horses to graze we took possession of a tree at some distance,
under which a number of Latookas were already sitting. Not being very
particular as to our society, we sat down and waited for the arrival of
our party.</p>
<p>The natives were entirely naked, and precisely the same as the Bari. Their
chief, Legge, was among them, and received a present from Ibrahim of a
long red cotton shirt, and he assumed an air of great importance. Ibrahim
explained to him who I was, and he immediately came to ask for the tribute
he expected to receive as "blackmail" for the right of entree into his
country. Of all the villainous countenances that I have ever seen, that of
Legge excelled. Ferocity, avarice, and sensuality were stamped upon his
face, and I immediately requested him to sit for his portrait, and in
about ten minutes I succeeded in placing within my portfolio an exact
likeness of about the greatest rascal that exists in Central Africa.</p>
<p>I had now the satisfaction of seeing my caravan slowly winding down the
hillside in good order, having surmounted all their difficulties.</p>
<p>Upon arrival my men were perfectly astonished at seeing us so near the
trader's party, and still more confounded at my sending for Ibrahim to
summon him to my tree, where I presented him with some English sovereigns
and a double-barrelled gun. Nothing escapes the inquisitiveness of these
Arabs; and the men of both parties quickly perceived that I had
established an alliance in some unaccountable manner with Ibrahim. I saw
the gun lately presented to him being handed from one to the other for
examination, and both my vakeel and men appeared utterly confused at the
sudden change.</p>
<p>The chief of Ellyria now came to inspect my luggage, and demanded fifteen
heavy copper bracelets and a large quantity of beads. The bracelets most
in demand are simple rings of copper five-eighths of an inch thick and
weighing about a pound, smaller ones not being so much valued. I gave him
fifteen such rings, and about ten pounds of beads in varieties, the red
coral porcelain (dimiriaf) being the most acceptable. Legge was by no
means satisfied; he said his belly was very big and it must be filled,
which signified that his desire was great and must be gratified. I
accordingly gave him a few extra copper rings; but suddenly he smelt
spirits, one of the few bottles that I possessed of spirits of wine having
broken in the medicine chest. Ibrahim begged me to give him a bottle to
put him in a good humor, as he enjoyed nothing so much as araki. I
accordingly gave him a pint bottle of the strongest spirits of wine.</p>
<p>To my amazement he broke off the neck, and holding his head well back he
deliberately allowed the whole of the contents to trickle down his throat
as innocently as though it had been simple water. He was thoroughly
accustomed to it, as the traders were in the habit of bringing him
presents of araki every season. He declared this to be excellent, and
demanded another bottle. At that moment a violent storm of thunder and
rain burst upon us with a fury well known in the tropics. The rain fell
like a waterspout, and the throng immediately fled for shelter. So violent
was the storm that not a man was to be seen; some sheltered themselves
under the neighboring rocks, while others ran to their villages that were
close by. The trader's people commenced a fusillade, firing off all their
guns lest they should get wet and miss fire.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XVI. </h2>
<p>The greeting of the slave—traders—Collapse of the mutiny—African
funerals—Visit from the Latooka chief—Bokke makes a suggestion—Slaughter
of the Turks—Success as a prophet—Commoro's philosophy.</p>
<p>Although Ellyria was a rich and powerful country, we were not able to
procure any provisions. The natives refused to sell, and their general
behavior assured me of their capability of any atrocity had they been
prompted to attack us by the Turks. Fortunately we had a good supply of
meal that had been prepared for the journey prior to our departure from
Gondokoro; thus we could not starve. I also had a sack of corn for the
animals, a necessary precaution, as at this season there was not a blade
of grass, all in the vicinity of the route having been burned.</p>
<p>We started on the 30th of March, at 7.30 A.M., and entered from the valley
of Ellyria upon a perfectly flat country interspersed with trees. The
ground was most favorable for the animals, being perfectly flat and free
from ravines. We accordingly stepped along at a brisk pace, and the
intense heat of the sun throughout the hottest hours of the day made the
journey fatiguing for all but the camels. The latter were excellent of
their class, and now far excelled the other transport animals, marching
along with ease under loads of about 600 pounds each.</p>
<p>My caravan was at the rear of the trader's party; but the ground being
good we left our people and cantered on to the advanced flag. It was
curious to witness the motley assemblage in single file extending over
about half a mile of ground. Several of the people were mounted on
donkeys, some on oxen; the most were on foot, including all the women to
the number of about sixty, who were the slaves of the trader's people.
These carried heavy loads, and many, in addition to the burdens, carried
children strapped to their backs in leather slings. After four or five
hours' march during the intense heat, many of the overloaded women showed
symptoms of distress and became footsore. The grass having been recently
burned had left the sharp charred stumps, which were very trying to those
whose sandals were not in the best condition. The women were forced along
by their brutal owners with sharp blows of the coorbatch, and one who was
far advanced in pregnancy could at length go no further. Upon this the
savage to whom she belonged belabored her with a large stick, and not
succeeding in driving her before him, he knocked her down and jumped upon
her. The woman's feet were swollen and bleeding, but later in the day I
again saw her hobbling along in the rear by the aid of a bamboo.</p>
<p>After a few days' march we reached Latome, a large Latooka town, and upon
our near approach we discovered crowds collected under two enormous trees.
Presently guns fired, drums beat, and we perceived the Turkish flags
leading a crowd of about a hundred men, who approached us with the usual
salutes, every man firing off ball cartridge as fast as he could reload.
My men were soon with this lot of ragamuffins, and this was the ivory or
slave-trading party that they had conspired to join. They were marching
toward me to honor me with a salute, which, upon close approach, ended by
their holding their guns muzzle downward, and firing them almost into my
feet. I at once saw through their object in giving me this reception. They
had already heard from the other party exaggerated accounts of presents
that their leader had received, and they were jealous at the fact of my
having established confidence with a party opposed to them. The vakeel of
Chenooda was the man who had from the first instigated my men to revolt
and to join his party, and he at that moment had two of my deserters with
him that had mutinied and joined him at Gondokoro. It had been agreed that
the remainder of my men were to mutiny at this spot and to join him with
MY ARMS AND AMMUNITION. This was to be the stage for the outbreak. The
apparent welcome was only to throw me off my guard.</p>
<p>I was coldly polite, and begging them not to waste their powder, I went to
the large tree that threw a beautiful shade, and we sat down, surrounded
by a crowd of both natives and trader's people. Mahommed Her sent me
immediately a fat ox for my people. Not to be under any obligation, I
immediately gave him a double-barrelled gun. Ibrahim and his men occupied
the shade of another enormous tree at about one hundred and fifty yards'
distance.</p>
<p>The evening arrived, and my vakeel, with his usual cunning, came to ask me
whether I intended to start tomorrow. He said there was excellent shooting
in this neighborhood, and that Ibrahim's camp not being more than five
hours' march beyond, I could at any time join him, should I think proper.
Many of my men were sullenly listening to my reply, which was that we
should start in company with Ibrahim. The men immediately turned their
backs and swaggered insolently to the town, muttering something that I
could not distinctly understand. I gave orders directly that no man should
sleep in the town, but that all should be at their posts by the luggage
under the tree that I occupied. At night several men were absent, and were
with difficulty brought from the town by the vakeel. The whole of the
night was passed by the rival parties quarrelling and fighting. At 5.30 on
the following morning the drum of Ibrahim's party beat the call, and his
men with great alacrity got their porters together and prepared to march.
My vakeel was not to be found; my men were lying idly in the positions
where they had slept, and not a man obeyed when I gave the order to
prepare to start-except Richarn and Sali. I saw that the moment had
arrived. Again I gave the order to the men to get up and load the animals.
Not a man would move except three or four, who slowly rose from the ground
and stood resting on their guns. In the mean time Richarn and Sali were
bringing the camels and making them kneel by the luggage. The boy Saat was
evidently expecting a row, and although engaged with the black women in
packing, he kept his eyes constantly on me.</p>
<p>I now observed that Bellaal was standing very near me on my right, in
advance of the men who had risen from the ground, and employed himself in
eying me from head to foot with the most determined insolence. The fellow
had his gun in his hand, and he was telegraphing by looks with those who
were standing near him, while not one of the others rose from the ground,
although close to me. Pretending not to notice Bellaal, who was now, as I
had expected, once more the ringleader, for the third time I ordered the
men to rise immediately and to load the camels. Not a man moved; but the
fellow Bellaal marched up to me, and looking me straight in the face
dashed the butt-end of his gun in defiance on the ground and led the
mutiny. "Not a man shall go with you! Go where you like with Ibrahim, but
we won't follow you nor move a step farther. The men shall not load the
camels; you may employ the 'niggers' to do it, but not us."</p>
<p>I looked at this mutinous rascal for a moment. This was the outburst of
the conspiracy, and the threats and insolence that I had been forced to
pass over for the sake of the expedition all rushed before me. "Lay down
your gun!" I thundered, "and load the camels!" "I won't," was his reply.
"Then stop here!" I answered, at the same time lashing out as quick as
lightning with my right hand upon his jaw.</p>
<p>He rolled over in a heap, his gun flying some yards from his hand, and the
late ringleader lay apparently insensible among the luggage, while several
of his friends ran to him and played the part of the Good Samaritan.
Following up on the moment the advantage I had gained by establishing a
panic, I seized my rifle and rushed into the midst of the wavering men,
catching first one by the throat and then another, and dragging them to
the camels, which I insisted upon their immediately loading. All except
three, who attended to the ruined ringleader, mechanically obeyed. Richarn
and Sali both shouted to them to "hurry"; and the vakeel arriving at this
moment and seeing how matters stood, himself assisted, and urged the men
to obey.</p>
<p>Ibrahim's party had started. The animals were soon loaded, and leaving the
vakeel to take them in charge, we cantered on to overtake Ibrahim, having
crushed the mutiny and given such an example that, in the event of future
conspiracies, my men would find it difficult to obtain a ringleader. So
ended the famous conspiracy that had been reported to me by both Saat and
Richarn before we left Gondokoro; and so much for the threat of firing
simultaneously at me and deserting my wife in the jungle. In those savage
countries success frequently depends upon one particular moment; you may
lose or win according to your action at that critical instant. We
congratulated ourselves upon the termination of this affair, which I
trusted would be the last of the mutinies.</p>
<p>Upon our arrival at a large town called Kattaga, my vakeel reported the
desertion of five of my men to Mahommed Her's party, with their guns and
ammunition. I abused both the vakeel and the men most thoroughly, and
declared, "As for the mutineers who have joined the slave-hunters,
Inshallah, the vultures shall pick their bones!"</p>
<p>This charitable wish—which, I believe, I expressed with intense
hatred—was never forgotten either by my own men or by the Turks.
Believing firmly in the evil eye, their superstitious fears were
immediately excited.</p>
<p>I had noticed during the march from Latome that the vicinity of every town
was announced by heaps of human remains. Bones and skulls formed a
Golgotha within a quarter of a mile of every village. Some of these were
in earthenware pots, generally broken; others lay strewn here and there,
while a heap in the centre showed that some form had originally been
observed in their disposition. This was explained by an extraordinary
custom, most rigidly observed by the Latookas. Should a man be killed in
battle the body is allowed to remain where it fell, and is devoured by the
vultures and hyenas; but should he die a natural death he is buried in a
shallow grave within a few feet of his own door, in the little courtyard
that surrounds each dwelling. Funeral dances are then kept up in memory of
the dead for several weeks, at the expiration of which time the body,
being sufficiently decomposed, is exhumed.</p>
<p>The bones are cleaned and are deposited in an earthenware jar, and carried
to a spot near the town which is regarded as the cemetery.</p>
<p>There is little difficulty in describing the toilette of the native, that
of the men being limited to the one covering of the head, the body being
entirely nude. It is curious to observe among these wild savages the
consummate vanity displayed in their head-dresses. Every tribe has a
distinct and unchanging fashion for dressing the hair, and so elaborate is
the coiffure that hair-dressing is reduced to a science. European ladies
would be startled at the fact that to perfect the coiffure of a man
requires a period of from eight to ten years! However tedious the
operation, the result is extraordinary. The Latookas wear most exquisite
helmets, all of which are formed of their own hair, and are, of course,
fixtures. At first sight it appears incredible; but a minute examination
shows the wonderful perseverance of years in producing what must be highly
inconvenient. The thick, crisp wool is woven with fine twine, formed from
the bark of a tree, until it presents a thick network of felt. As the hair
grows through this matted substance it is subjected to the same process,
until, in the course of years, a compact substance is formed like a strong
felt, about an inch and a half thick, that has been trained into the shape
of a helmet. A strong rim about two inches deep is formed by sewing it
together with thread, and the front part of the helmet is protected by a
piece of polished copper, while a piece of the same metal, shaped like the
half of a bishop's mitre and about a foot in length, forms the crest. The
framework of the helmet being at length completed, it must be perfected by
an arrangement of beads, should the owner of the bead be sufficiently rich
to indulge in the coveted distinction. The beads most in fashion are the
red and the blue porcelain, about the size of small peas. These are sewn
on the surface of the felt, and so beautifully arranged in sections of
blue and red that the entire helmet appears to be formed of beads; and the
handsome crest of polished copper surmounted by ostrich plumes gives a
most dignified and martial appearance to this elaborate head-dress. No
helmet is supposed to be complete without a row of cowrie-shells stitched
around the rim so as to form a solid edge.</p>
<p>Although the men devote so much attention to their head-dress, the woman's
is extremely simple. It is a curious fact that while the men are
remarkably handsome the women are exceedingly plain. They are immense
creatures, few being under five feet seven in height, with prodigious
limbs. They wear exceedingly long tails, precisely like those of horses,
but made of fine twine and rubbed with red ochre and grease. These are
very convenient when they creep into their huts on hands and knees! In
addition to the tails, they wear a large flap of tanned leather in front.
Should I ever visit that country again, I should take a great number of
Freemasons' aprons for the women; these would be highly prized, and would
create a perfect furore.</p>
<p>The day after my arrival in Latooka I was accommodated by the chief with a
hut in a neat courtyard, beautifully clean and cemented with clay, ashes,
and cow-dung. Not patronizing the architectural advantages of a doorway
two feet high, I pitched my large tent in the yard and stowed all my
baggage in the hut. All being arranged, I had a large Persian carpet
spread upon the ground, and received the chief of Latooka in state. He was
introduced by Ibrahim, and I had the advantage of his interpreter. I
commenced the conversation by ordering a present to be laid on the carpet
of several necklaces of valuable beads, copper bars, and colored cotton
handkerchiefs. It was most amusing to witness his delight at a string of
fifty little "berrets" (opal beads the size of marbles) which I had
brought into the country for the first time, and which were accordingly
extremely valuable. No sooner had he surveyed them with undisguised
delight than he requested me to give him another string of opals for his
wife, or she would be in a bad humor; accordingly a present for the lady
was added to the already large pile of beads that lay heaped upon the
carpet before him. After surveying his treasures with pride, he heaved a
deep sigh, and turning to the interpreter he said, "What a row there will
be in the family when my other wives see Bokke (his head wife) dressed up
with this finery. Tell the 'Mattat' that unless he gives necklaces for
each of my other wives they will fight!" Accordingly I asked him the
number of ladies that made him anxious. He deliberately began to count
upon his fingers, and having exhausted the digits of one hand I
compromised immediately, begging him not to go through the whole of his
establishment, and presented him with about three pounds of various beads
to be divided among them. He appeared highly delighted, and declared his
intention of sending all his wives to pay Mrs. Baker a visit. This would
be an awful visitation, as each wife would expect a present for herself,
and would assuredly leave either a child or a friend for whom she would
beg an addition. I therefore told him that the heat was so great that we
could not bear too many in the tent, but that if *Bokke*, his favorite,
would appear, we should be glad to see her. Accordingly he departed, and
shortly we were honored by a visit.</p>
<p>*Bokke* and her daughter were announced, and a pair of prettier savages I
never saw. They were very clean; their hair was worn short, like that of
all the women of the country, and plastered with red ochre and fat so as
to look like vermilion; their faces were slightly tattooed on the cheeks
and temples, and they sat down on the many-colored carpet with great
surprise, and stared at the first white man and woman they had ever seen.
We gave them both a number of necklaces of red and blue beads, and I
secured Bokke's portrait in my sketch-book, obtaining a very correct
likeness. She told us that Mahommed Her's men were very bad people; that
they had burned and plundered one of her villages; and that one of the
Latookas who had been wounded in the fight by a bullet had just died, and
they were to dance for him to-morrow; if we would like to we could attend.
She asked many questions; among others, how many wives I had, and was
astonished to hear that I was contented with one. This seemed to amuse her
immensely, and she laughed heartily with her daughter at the idea. She
said that my wife would be much improved if she would extract her four
front teeth from the lower jaw and wear the red ointment on her hair,
according to the fashion of the country; she also proposed that she should
pierce her under lip, and wear the long pointed polished crystal, about
the size of a drawing-pencil, that is the "thing" in the Latooka country.
No woman among the tribe who has any pretensions to being a "swell" would
be without this highly-prized ornament; and one of my thermometers having
come to an end, I broke the tube into three pieces, and they were
considered as presents of the highest value, to be worn through the
perforated under lip. Lest the piece should slip through the hole in the
lip, a kind of rivet is formed by twine bound round the inner extremity,
and this, protruding into the space left by the extraction of the four
front teeth of the lower jaw, entices the tongue to act upon the
extremity, which gives it a wriggling motion indescribably ludicrous
during conversation.</p>
<p>It is difficult to explain real beauty. A defect in one country is a
desideratum in another. Scars upon the face are, in Europe, a blemish; but
here and in the Arab countries no beauty can be perfect until the cheeks
or temples have been gashed. The Arabs make three gashes upon each cheek,
and rub the wounds with salt and a kind of porridge (asida) to produce
proud-flesh; thus every female slave captured by the slave-hunters is
marked to prove her identity and to improve her charms. Each tribe has its
peculiar fashion as to the position and form of the cicatrix.</p>
<p>The Latookas gash the temples and cheeks of their women, but do not raise
the scar above the surface, as is the custom of the Arabs.</p>
<p>Polygamy is, of course, the general custom, the number of a man's wives
depending entirely upon his wealth, precisely as would the number of his
horses in England. There is no such thing as LOVE in these countries; the
feeling is not understood, nor does it exist in the shape in which we
understand it. Everything is practical, without a particle of romance.
Women are so far appreciated as they are valuable animals. They grind the
corn, fetch the water, gather firewood, cement the floors, cook the food,
and propagate the race; but they are mere servants, and as such are
valuable. The price of a good-looking, strong young wife, who could carry
a heavy jar of water, would be ten cows; thus a man rich in cattle would
be rich in domestic bliss, as he could command a multiplicity of wives.
However delightful may be a family of daughters in England, they
nevertheless are costly treasures; but in Latooka and throughout savage
lands they are exceedingly profitable. The simple rule of proportion will
suggest that if one daughter is worth ten cows, ten daughters must be
worth a hundred; therefore a large family is a source of wealth: the girls
bring the cows, and the boys milk them. All being perfectly naked (I mean
the girls and the boys), there is no expense, and the children act as
herdsmen to the flocks as in the patriarchal times. A multiplicity of
wives thus increases wealth by the increase of family. I am afraid this
practical state of affairs will be a strong barrier to missionary
enterprise.</p>
<p>A savage holds to his cows and his women, but especially to his COWS. In a
razzia fight he will seldom stand for the sake of his wives, but when he
does fight it is to save his cattle.</p>
<p>One day, soon after Bokke's visit, I heard that there had been some
disaster, and that the whole of Mahommed Her's party had been massacred.
On the following morning I sent ten of my men with a party of Ibrahim's to
Latome to make inquiries. They returned on the following afternoon,
bringing with them two wounded men. It appeared the Mahommed Her had
ordered his party of 110 armed men, in addition to 300 natives, to make a
razzia upon a certain village among the mountains for slaves and cattle.
They had succeeded in burning a village and in capturing a great number of
slaves. Having descended the pass, a native gave them the route that would
lead to the capture of a large herd of cattle that they had not yet
discovered. They once more ascended the mountain by a different path, and
arriving at the kraal they commenced driving off the vast herd of cattle.
The Latookas, who had not fought while their wives and children were being
carried into slavery, now fronted bravely against the muskets to defend
their herds, and charging the Turks they drove them down the pass.</p>
<p>It was in vain that they fought; every bullet aimed at a Latooka struck a
rock, behind which the enemy was hidden. Rocks, stones, and lances were
hurled at them from all sides and from above. They were forced to retreat.
The retreat ended in a panic and precipitate flight. Hemmed in on all
sides, amid a shower of lances and stones thrown from the mountain above,
the Turks fled pell-mell down the rocky and precipitous ravines. Mistaking
their route, they came to a precipice from which there was no retreat. The
screaming and yelling savages closed round them. Fighting was useless; the
natives, under cover of the numerous detached rocks, offered no mark for
an aim, while the crowd of armed savages thrust them forward with wild
yells to the very verge of the great precipice about five hundred feet
below. Down they fell, hurled to utter destruction by the mass of Latookas
pressing onward! A few fought to the last, but one and all were at length
forced, by sheer pressure, over the edge of the cliff, and met a just
reward for their atrocities.</p>
<p>My men looked utterly cast down, and a feeling of horror pervaded the
entire party. No quarter had been given by the Latookas, and upward of two
hundred natives who had joined the slave-hunters in the attack had also
perished with their allies. Mahommed Her had not himself accompanied his
people, both he and Bellaal, my late ringleader, having remained in camp,
the latter having, fortunately for him, been disabled, and placed hors de
combat by the example I had made during the mutiny.</p>
<p>My men were almost green with awe when I asked them solemnly, "Where are
the men who deserted from me?" Without answering a word they brought two
of my guns and laid them at my feet. They were covered with clotted blood
mixed with sand, which had hardened like cement over the locks and various
portions of the barrels. My guns were all marked. As I looked at the
numbers upon the stocks, I repeated aloud the names of the owners. "Are
they all dead?" I asked. "All dead," the men replied. "FOOD FOR THE
VULTURES?" I asked. "None of the bodies can be recovered," faltered my
vakeel. "The two guns were brought from the spot by some natives who
escaped, and who saw the men fall. They are all killed." "Better for them
had they remained with me and done their duty. The hand of God is heavy,"
I replied. My men slunk away abashed, leaving the gory witnesses of defeat
and death upon the ground. I called Saat and ordered him to give the two
guns to Richarn to clean.</p>
<p>Not only my own men but the whole of Ibrahim's party were of opinion that
I had some mysterious connection with the disaster that had befallen my
mutineers. All remembered the bitterness of my prophecy, "The vultures
will pick their bones", and this terrible mishap having occurred so
immediately afterward took a strong hold upon their superstitious minds.
As I passed through the camp the men would quietly exclaim, "Wah Illahi
Hawaga!" (My God, Master!) To which I simply replied, "Robine fe!" (There
is a God.) From that moment I observed an extraordinary change in the
manner of both my people and those of Ibrahim, all of whom now paid us the
greatest respect.</p>
<p>One day I sent for Commoro, the Latooka chief, and through my two young
interpreters I had a long conversation with him on the customs of his
country. I wished if possible to fathom the origin of the extraordinary
custom of exhuming the body after burial, as I imagined that in this act
some idea might be traced to a belief in the resurrection.</p>
<p>Commoro was, like all his people, extremely tall. Upon entering my tent he
took his seat upon the ground, the Latookas not using stools like the
other White Nile tribes. I commenced the conversation by complimenting him
on the perfection of his wives and daughters in a funeral dance which had
lately been held, and on his own agility in the performance, and inquired
for whom the ceremony had been performed. He replied that it was for a man
who had been recently killed, but no one of great importance, the same
ceremony being observed for every person without distinction.</p>
<p>I asked him why those slain in battle were allowed to remain unburied. He
said it had always been the custom, but that he could not explain it.</p>
<p>"But," I replied, "why should you disturb the bones of those whom you have
already buried, and expose them on the outskirts of the town?"</p>
<p>"It was the custom of our forefathers," he answered, "therefore we
continue to observe it."</p>
<p>"Have you no belief in a future existence after death? Is not some idea
expressed in the act of exhuming the bones after the flesh is decayed?"</p>
<p>Commoro (loq.).—"Existence AFTER death! How can that be? Can a dead
man get out of his grave, unless we dig him out?"</p>
<p>"Do you think man is like a beast, that dies and is ended?"</p>
<p>Commoro.—"Certainly. An ox is stronger than a man, but he dies, and
his bones last longer; they are bigger. A man's bones break quickly; he is
weak."</p>
<p>"Is not a man superior in sense to an ox? Has he not a mind to direct his
actions?"</p>
<p>Commoro—"Some men are not so clever as an ox. Men must sow corn to
obtain food, but the ox and wild animals can procure it without sowing."</p>
<p>"Do you not know that there is a spirit within you different from flesh?
Do you not dream and wander in thought to distant places in your sleep?
Nevertheless your body rests in one spot. How do you account for this?"</p>
<p>Commoro (laughing)—"Well, how do YOU account for it? It is a thing I
cannot understand; it occurs to me every night."</p>
<p>"The mind is independent of the body. The actual body can be fettered, but
the mind is uncontrollable. The body will die and will become dust or be
eaten by vultures; but the spirit will exist forever."</p>
<p>Commoro—"Where will the spirit live?"</p>
<p>"Where does fire live? Cannot you produce a fire*</p>
<p>(* The natives always produce fire by rubbing two sticks<br/>
together.)<br/></p>
<p>by rubbing two sticks together? Yet you SEE not the fire in the wood. Has
not that fire, that lies harmless and unseen in the sticks, the power to
consume the whole country? Which is the stronger, the small stick that
first PRODUCES the fire, or the fire itself? So is the spirit the element
within the body, as the element of fire exists in the stick, the element
being superior to the substance."</p>
<p>Commoro—"Ha! Can you explain what we frequently see at night when
lost in the wilderness? I have myself been lost, and wandering in the dark
I have seen a distant fire; upon approaching the fire has vanished, and I
have been unable to trace the cause, nor could I find the spot."</p>
<p>"Have you no idea of the existence of spirits superior to either man or
beast? Have you no fear of evil except from bodily causes?"</p>
<p>Commoro.—"I am afraid of elephants and other animals when in the
jungle at night; but of nothing else."</p>
<p>"Then you believe in nothing—neither in a good nor evil spirit! And
you believe that when you die it will be the end of body and spirit; that
you are like other animals; and that there is no distinction between man
and beast; both disappear, and end at death?"</p>
<p>Commoro.—"Of course they do."</p>
<p>"Do you see no difference in good and bad actions?"</p>
<p>Commoro.—"Yes, there are good and bad in men and beasts."</p>
<p>"Do you think that a good man and a bad must share the same fate, and
alike die, and end?"</p>
<p>Commoro.—"Yes; what else can they do? How can they help dying? Good
and bad all die."</p>
<p>"Their bodies perish, but their spirits remain; the good in happiness, the
bad in misery. If you leave no belief in a future state, WHY SHOULD A MAN
BE GOOD? Why should he not be bad, if he can prosper by wickedness?"</p>
<p>Commoro.—"Most people are bad; if they are strong they take from the
weak. The good people are all weak; they are good because they are not
strong enough to be bad."</p>
<p>Some corn had been taken out of a sack for the horses, and a few grains
lying scattered on the ground, I tried the beautiful metaphor of St. Paul
as an example of a future state. Making a small hole with my finger in the
ground, I placed a grain within it: "That," I said, "represents you when
you die." Covering it with earth, I continued, "That grain will decay, but
from it will rise the plant that will produce a reappearance of the
original form."</p>
<p>Commoro.—"Exactly so; that I understand. But the original grain does
NOT rise again; it rots like the dead man, and is ended. The fruit
produced is not the same grain that we buried, but the PRODUCTION of that
grain. So it is with man. I die, and decay, and am ended; but my children
grow up like the fruit of the grain. Some men have no children, and some
grains perish without fruit; then all are ended."</p>
<p>I was obliged to change the subject of conversation. In this wild naked
savage there was not even a superstition upon which to found a religious
feeling; there was a belief in matter, and to his understanding everything
was MATERIAL. It was extraordinary to find so much clearness of perception
combined with such complete obtuseness to anything ideal.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XVII </h2>
<p>Disease in the camp—Forward under difficulties—Our cup of
misery overflows—A rain-maker in a dilemma—Fever again—Ibrahim's
quandary—Firing the prairie.</p>
<p>Sickness now rapidly spread among my animals. Five donkeys died within a
few days, and the rest looked poor. Two of my camels died suddenly, having
eaten the poison-bush. Within a few days of this disaster my good old
hunter and companion of all my former sports in the Base country, Tetel,
died. These terrible blows to my expedition were most satisfactory to the
Latookas, who ate the donkeys and other animals the moment they died. It
was a race between the natives and the vultures as to who should be first
to profit by my losses.</p>
<p>Not only were the animals sick, but my wife was laid up with a violent
attack of gastric fever, and I was also suffering from daily attacks of
ague. The small-pox broke out among the Turks. Several people died, and,
to make matters worse, they insisted upon inoculating themselves and all
their slaves; thus the whole camp was reeking with this horrible disease.</p>
<p>Fortunately my camp was separate and to windward. I strictly forbade my
men to inoculate themselves, and no case of the disease occurred among my
people; but it spread throughout the country. Small-pox is a scourge among
the tribes of Central Africa, and it occasionally sweeps through the
country and decimates the population.</p>
<p>I had a long examination of Wani, the guide and interpreter, respecting
the country of Magungo. Loggo, the Bari interpreter, always described
Magungo as being on a large river, and I concluded that it must be the
Asua; but upon cross-examination I found he used the word "Bahr" (in
Arabic signifying river or sea) instead of "Birbe" (lake). This important
error being discovered gave a new feature to the geography of this part.
According to his description, Magungo was situated on a lake so large that
no one knew its limits. Its breadth was such that, if one journeyed two
days east and the same distance west, there was no land visible on either
quarter, while to the south its direction was utterly unknown. Large
vessels arrived at Magungo from distant arid unknown parts, bringing
cowrie-shells and beads in exchange for ivory. Upon these vessels white
men had been seen. All the cowrie-shells used in Latooka and the
neighboring countries were supplied by these vessels, but none had arrived
for the last two years.</p>
<p>I concluded the lake was no other than the N'yanza, which, if the position
of Mangungo were correct, extended much farther north than Speke had
supposed. I determined to take the first opportunity to push for Magungo.
The white men spoken of by Wani probably referred to Arabs, who, being
simply brown, were called white men by the blacks. I was called a VERY
WHITE MAN as a distinction; but I have frequently been obliged to take off
my shirt to exhibit the difference of color between myself and men, as my
face had become brown.</p>
<p>The Turks had set June 23d as the time for their departure from Latooka.
On the day preceding my wife was dangerously ill with bilious fever, and
was unable to stand, and I endeavored to persuade the trader's party to
postpone their departure for a few days. They would not hear of such a
proposal; they had so irritated the Latookas that they feared an attack,
and their captain or vakeel, Ibrahim, had ordered them immediately to
vacate the country. This was a most awkward position for me. The traders
had incurred the hostility of the country, and I should bear the brunt of
it should I remain behind alone. Without their presence I should be unable
to procure porters, as the natives would not accompany my feeble party,
especially as I could offer them no other payment than beads or copper.
The rain had commenced within the last few days at Latooka, and on the
route toward Obbo we should encounter continual storms. We were to march
by a long and circuitous route to avoid the rocky passes that would be
dangerous in the present spirit of the country, especially as the traders
possessed large herds that must accompany the party. They allowed five
days' march for the distance to Obbo by the intended route. This was not
an alluring programme for the week's entertainment, with my wife almost in
a dying state! However, I set to work and fitted an angarep with arched
hoops from end to end, so as to form a frame like the cap of a wagon. This
I covered with two waterproof Abyssinian tanned hides securely strapped,
and lashing two long poles parallel to the sides of the angarep, I formed
an excellent palanquin. In this she was assisted, and we started on June
23d.</p>
<p>On our arrival at Obbo both my wife and I were excessively ill with
bilious fever, and neither could assist the other. The old chief of Obbo,
Katchiba, hearing that we were dying, came to charm us with some magic
spell. He found us lying helpless, and immediately procured a small branch
of a tree, and filling his month with water he squirted it over the leaves
and about the floor of the hut. He then waved the branch around my wife's
head, also around mine, and completed the ceremony by sticking it in the
thatch above the doorway. He told us we should now get better, and,
perfectly satisfied, took his leave.</p>
<p>The hut was swarming with rats and white ants, the former racing over our
bodies during the night and burrowing through the floor, filling our only
room with mounds like molehills. As fast as we stopped the holes, others
were made with determined perseverance. Having a supply of arsenic, I gave
them an entertainment, the effect being disagreeable to all parties, as
the rats died in their holes and created a horrible effluvium, while fresh
hosts took the place of the departed. Now and then a snake would be seen
gliding within the thatch, having taken shelter front the pouring rain.</p>
<p>The small-pox was raging throughout the country, and the natives were
dying like flies in winter. The country was extremely unhealthy, owing to
the constant rain and the rank herbage, which prevented a free circulation
of air, and the extreme damp induced fevers. The temperature was 65
degrees Fahr. at night and 72 degrees during the day; dense clouds
obscured the sun for many days, and the air was reeking with moisture. In
the evening it was always necessary to keep a blazing fire within the hut,
as the floor and walls were wet and chilly.</p>
<p>The wet herbage disagreed with my baggage animals.</p>
<p>Innumerable flies appeared, including the tsetse, and in a few weeks the
donkeys had no hair left, either on their ears or legs. They drooped and
died one by one. It was in vain that I erected sheds and lighted fires;
nothing would protect them from the flies. The moment the fires were lit
the animals would rush wildly into the smoke, from which nothing would
drive them; and in the clouds of imaginary protection they would remain
all day, refusing food. On the 16th of July my last horse, Mouse, died. He
had a very long tail, for which I obtained A COW IN EXCHANGE. Nothing was
prized so highly as horses' tails, the hairs being used for stringing
beads and also for making tufts as ornaments, to be suspended from the
elbows. It was highly fashionable in Obbo for the men to wear such tufts
formed of the bushy ends of cows' tails. It was also "the thing" to wear
six or eight polished rings of iron, fastened so tightly round the throat
as almost to choke the wearer, and somewhat resembling dog-collars.</p>
<p>For months we dragged on a miserable existence at Obbo, wrecked by fever.
The quinine was exhausted; thus the disease worried me almost to death,
returning at intervals of a few days. Fortunately my wife did not suffer
so much as I did. I had nevertheless prepared for the journey south, and
as travelling on foot would have been impossible in our weak state, I had
purchased and trained three oxen in lieu of horses. They were named
"Beef," "Steaks," and "Suet." "Beef" was a magnificent animal, but having
been bitten by the flies he so lost his condition that I changed his name
to "Bones." We were ready to start, and the natives reported that early in
January the Asua would be fordable. I had arranged with Ibrahim that he
should supply me with porters for payment in copper bracelets, and that he
should accompany me with one hundred men to Kamrasi's country (Unyoro) on
condition that he would restrain his people from all misdemeanors, and
that they should be entirely subservient to me.</p>
<p>It was the month of December, and during the nine, months that I had been
in correspondence with his party I had succeeded in acquiring an
extraordinary influence. Although my camp was nearly three quarters of a
mile from their zareeba, I had been besieged daily for many months for
everything that was wanted. My camp was a kind of general store that
appeared to be inexhaustible. I gave all that I had with a good grace, and
thereby gained the good-will of the robbers, especially as my large
medicine chest contained a supply of drugs that rendered me in their eyes
a physician of the first importance. I had been very successful with my
patients, and the medicines that I generally used being those which
produced a very decided effect, both the Turks and natives considered them
with perfect faith. There was seldom any difficulty in prognosticating the
effect of tartar emetic, and this became the favorite drug that was almost
daily applied for, a dose of three grains enchanting the patient, who
always advertised my fame by saying "He told me I should be sick, and, by
Allah! there was no mistake about it." Accordingly there was a great run
upon the tartar emetic.</p>
<p>Many people in Debono's camp had died, including several of my deserters
who had joined them. News was brought that in three separate fights with
the natives my deserters had been killed on every occasion, and my men and
those of Ibrahim unhesitatingly declared it was the "hand of God." None of
Ibrahim's men had died since we left Latooka. One man, who had been badly
wounded by a lance thrust through his abdomen, I had successfully treated;
and the trading party, who would at one time gladly have exterminated me,
now exclaimed, "What shall we do when the Sowar (traveller) leaves the
country?" Mrs. Baker had been exceedingly kind to the women and children
of both the traders and natives, and together we had created so favorable
an impression that we were always referred to as umpires in every dispute.
My own men, although indolent, were so completely disciplined that they
would not have dared to disobey an order, and they looked back upon their
former mutinous conduct with surprise at their own audacity, and declared
that they feared to return to Khartoum, as they were sure that I would not
forgive them.</p>
<p>One day, hearing a great noise of voices and blowing of horns in the
direction of Katchiba's residence, I sent to inquire the cause. The old
chief himself appeared very angry and excited. He said that his people
were very bad, that they had been making a great noise and finding fault
with him because he had not supplied them with a few showers, as they
wanted to sow their crop of tullaboon. There had been no rain for about a
fortnight.</p>
<p>"Well," I replied, "you are the rain-maker; why don't you give your people
rain?" "Give my people rain!" said Katchiba. "I give them rain if they
don't give me goats? You don't know my people. If I am fool enough to give
them rain before they give me the goats, they would let me starve! No, no!
let them wait. If they don't bring me supplies of corn, goats, fowls,
yams, merissa, and all that I require, not one drop of rain shall ever
fall again in Obbo! Impudent brutes are my people! Do you know, they have
positively threatened to kill me unless I bring the rain?</p>
<p>"They shan't have a drop. I will wither the crops and bring a plague upon
their flocks. I'll teach these rascals to insult me!"</p>
<p>With all this bluster, I saw that old Katchiba was in a great dilemma, and
that he would give anything for a shower, but that lie did not know how to
get out of the scrape. It was a common freak of the tribes to sacrifice
the rain-maker should he be unsuccessful. He suddenly altered his tone,
and asked, "Have you any rain in your country?" I replied that we had,
every now and then. "How do you bring it? Are you a rain-maker?" I told
him that no one believed in rain-makers in our country, but that we
understood how to bottle lightning (meaning electricity). "I don't keep
mine in bottles, but I have a houseful of thunder and lightning," he most
coolly replied; "but if you can bottle lightning, you must understand
rain-making. What do you think of the weather to-day?" I immediately saw
the drift of the cunning old Katchiba; he wanted professional advice. I
replied that he must know all about it, as he was a regular rain-maker.
"Of course I do," he answered, "but I want to know what YOU think of it."
"Well," I said, "I don't think we shall have any steady rain, but I think
we may have a heavy shower in about four days." I said this as I had
observed fleecy clouds gathering daily in the afternoon. "Just my
opinion!" said Katchiba, delighted. "In four or perhaps in five days I
intend to give then one shower—just one shower. Yes, I'll just step
down to them now and tell the rascals that if they will bring me some
goats by this evening and some corn to-morrow morning I will give them in
four or five days just one shower." To give effect to his declaration he
gave several toots upon his magic whistle. "Do you use whistles in your
country?" inquired Katchiba. I only replied by giving so shrill and
deafening a whistle on my fingers that Katchiba stopped his ears, and
relapsing into a smile of admiration he took a glance at the sky from the
doorway to see if any sudden effect had been produced. "Whistle again," he
said, and once more I performed like the whistle of a locomotive. "That
will do; we shall have it," said the cunning old rain-maker, and proud of
having so knowingly obtained "counsel's opinion" on his case, he toddled
off to his impatient subjects.</p>
<p>In a few days a sudden storm of rain and violent thunder added to
Katchiba's renown, and after the shower horns were blowing and nogaras
were beating in honor of their chief. Entre nous, my whistle was
considered infallible.</p>
<p>A bad attack of fever laid me up until the 31st of December. On the first
day of January, 1864, I was hardly able to stand, and was nearly worn out
at the very time that I required my strength, as we were to start south in
a few days. Although my quinine had been long since exhausted, I had
reserved ten grains to enable me to start in case the fever should attack
me at the time of departure. I now swallowed my last dose.</p>
<p>It was difficult to procure porters; therefore I left all my effects at my
camp in charge of two of my men, and I determined to travel light, without
the tent, and to take little beyond ammunition and cooking utensils.
Ibrahim left forty-five men in his zareeba, and on the 5th of January we
started.</p>
<p>In four days' march we reached the Asua River, and on January 13th arrived
at Shooa, in latitude 3 degrees 4'.</p>
<p>Two days after our arrival at Shooa all of our Obbo porters absconded.
They had heard that we were bound for Kamrasi's country, and having
received exaggerated accounts of his power from the Shooa people, they had
determined upon retreat; thus we were at once unable to proceed, unless we
could procure porters from Shooa. This was exceedingly difficult, as
Kamrasi was well known here, and was not loved. His country was known as
"Quanda," and I at once recognized the corruption of Speke's "Uganda." The
slave woman "Bacheeta," who had formerly given me in Obbo so much
information concerning Kamrasi's country, was to be our interpreter; but
we also had the luck to discover a lad who had formerly been employed by
Mahommed in Faloro, who also spoke the language of Quanda, and had learned
a little Arabic.</p>
<p>I now discovered that the slave woman Bacheeta had formerly been in the
service of a chief named Sali, who had been killed by Kamrasi. Sali was a
friend of Rionga (Kamrasi's greatest enemy), and I had been warned by
Speke not to set foot upon Rionga's territory, or all travelling in Unyoro
would be cut off. I plainly saw that Bacheeta was in favor of Rionga, as a
friend of the murdered Sali, by whom she had had two children, and that
she would most likely tamper with the guide, and that we should be led to
Rionga instead of to Kamrasi. There were "wheels within wheels."</p>
<p>It was now reported that in the last year, immediately after the departure
of Speke and Grant from Gondokoro, Debono's people had marched directly to
Rionga, allied themselves to him, crossed the Nile with his people, and
had attacked Kamrasi's country, killing about three hundred of his men,
and capturing many slaves. I now understood why they had deceived me at
Gondokoro: they had obtained information of the country from Speke's
people, and had made use of it by immediately attacking Kamrasi in
conjunction with Rionga.</p>
<p>This would be a pleasant introduction for me on entering Unyoro, as almost
immediately after the departure of Speke and Grant, Kamrasi had been
invaded by the very people into whose hands his messengers had delivered
them, when they were guided from Unyoro to the Turks' station at Faloro.
He would naturally have considered that the Turks had been sent by Speke
to attack him; thus the road appeared closed to all exploration, through
the atrocities of Debono's people.</p>
<p>Many of Ibrahim's men, at hearing this intelligence, refused to proceed to
Unyoro. Fortunately for me, Ibrahim had been extremely unlucky in
procuring ivory. The year had almost passed away, and he had a mere
nothing with which to return to Gondokoro. I impressed upon him how
enraged Koorshid would be should he return with such a trifle. Already his
own men declared that he was neglecting razzias because he was to receive
a present from me if we reached Unyoro. This they would report to his
master (Koorshid), and it would be believed should he fail in securing
ivory. I guaranteed him 100 cantars (10,000 pounds) if he would push on at
all hazards with me to Kamrasi and secure me porters from Shooa. Ibrahim
behaved remarkably well. For some time past I had acquired a great
influence over him, and he depended so thoroughly upon my opinion that he
declared himself ready to do all that I suggested. Accordingly I desired
him to call his men together, and to leave in Shooa all those who were
disinclined to follow us.</p>
<p>At once I arranged for a start, lest some fresh idea should enter the
ever-suspicious brains of our followers and mar the expedition. It was
difficult to procure porters, and I abandoned all that was not
indispensable—our last few pounds of rice and coffee, and even the
great sponging-bath, that emblem of civilization that had been clung to
even when the tent had been left behind.</p>
<p>On the 18th of January, 1864, we left Shooa. The pure air of that country
had invigorated us, and I was so improved in strength that I enjoyed the
excitement of the launch into unknown lands. The Turks knew nothing of the
route south, and I accordingly took the lead of the entire party. I had
come to a distinct understanding with Ibrahim that Kamrasi's country
should belong to ME; not an act of felony would be permitted; all were to
be under my government, and I would insure him at least 100 cantars of
tusks.</p>
<p>Eight miles of agreeable march through the usual park-like country brought
us to the village of Fatiko, situated upon a splendid plateau of rock upon
elevated ground with beautiful granite cliffs, bordering a level
table-land of fine grass that would have formed a race-course. The high
rocks were covered with natives, perched upon the outline like a flock of
ravens.</p>
<p>We halted to rest under some fine trees growing among large isolated
blocks of granite and gneiss. In a short time the natives assembled around
us. They were wonderfully friendly, and insisted upon a personal
introduction to both myself and Mrs. Baker. We were thus compelled to hold
a levee—not the passive and cold ceremony of Europe, but a most
active undertaking, as each native that was introduced performed the
salaam of his country by seizing both my hands and raising my arms three
times to their full stretch above my head. After about one hundred Fatikos
had been thus gratified by our submission to this infliction, and our arms
had been subjected to at least three hundred stretches each, I gave the
order to saddle the oxen immediately, and we escaped a further proof of
Fatiko affection that was already preparing, as masses of natives were
streaming down the rocks hurrying to be introduced. Notwithstanding the
fatigue of the ceremony, I took a great fancy to these poor people. They
had prepared a quantity of merissa and a sheep for our lunch, which they
begged us to remain and enjoy before we started; but the pumping action of
half a village not yet gratified by a presentation was too much, and
mounting our oxen with aching shoulders we bade adieu to Fatiko.</p>
<p>On the following day our guide lost the road; a large herd of elephants
had obscured it by trampling hundreds of paths in all directions. The wind
was strong from the north, and I proposed to clear the country to the
south by firing the prairies. There were numerous deep swamps in the
bottoms between the undulations, and upon arrival at one of these green
dells we fired the grass on the opposite side. In a few minutes it roared
before us, and we enjoyed the grand sight of the boundless prairies
blazing like infernal regions, and rapidly clearing a path south. Flocks
of buzzards and the beautiful varieties of fly-catchers thronged to the
dense smoke to prey upon the innumerable insects that endeavored to escape
from the approaching fire.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XVIII </h2>
<p>Greeting from Kamrasi's people—Suffering for the sins of others—Alone
among savages—The free-masonry of Unyoro—Pottery and
civilization.</p>
<p>After an exceedingly fatiguing march we reached the Somerset River, or
Victoria White Nile, January 22d. I went to the river to see if the other
side was inhabited. There were two villages on an island, and the natives
came across in a canoe, bringing the BROTHER OF RIONGA. The guide, as I
had feared during the journey, had deceived us, and following the secret
instructions of the slave woman Bacheeta, had brought us directly to
Rionga's country.</p>
<p>The natives at first had taken us for Mahomet Wat-el-Mek's people; but,
finding their mistake, they would give us no information. We could obtain
no supplies from them; but they returned to the island and shouted out
that we might go to Kamrasi if we wished, but we should receive no
assistance from them.</p>
<p>After a most enjoyable march through the exciting scenery of the glorious
river crashing over innumerable falls, and in many places ornamented with
rocky islands, upon which were villages and plantain groves, we at length
approached the Karuma Falls, close to the village of Atada above the
ferry. The heights were crowded with natives, and a canoe was sent across
to within parleying distance of our side, as the roar of the rapids
prevented our voices from being heard except at a short distance. Bacheeta
now explained that "SPEKE'S BROTHER had arrived from his country to pay
Kamrasi a visit, and had brought him valuable presents."</p>
<p>"Why has he brought so many men with him?" inquired the people from the
canoe.</p>
<p>"There are so many presents for the M'Kamma (king) that he has many men to
carry them," shouted Bacheeta.</p>
<p>"Let us look at him!" cried the headman in the boat. Having prepared for
the introduction by changing my clothes in a grove of plantains for my
dressing-room, and altering my costume to a tweed suit, something similar
to that worn by Speke, I climbed up a high and almost perpendicular rock
that formed a natural pinnacle on the face of the cliff, and waving my cap
to the crowd on the opposite side, I looked almost as imposing as Nelson
in Trafalgar Square.</p>
<p>I instructed Bacheeta, who climbed up the giddy height after me, to shout
to the people that an English lady, my wife, had also arrived, and that we
wished immediately to be presented to the king and his family, as we had
come to thank him for his kind treatment of Speke and Grant, who had
arrived safe in their own country. Upon this being explained and repeated
several times the canoe approached the shore.</p>
<p>I ordered all our people to retire and to conceal themselves among the
plantains, that the natives might not be startled by so imposing a force,
while Mrs. Baker and I advanced alone to meet Kamrasi's people, who were
men of some importance. Upon landing through the high reeds, they
immediately recognized the similarity of my beard and general complexion
to those of Speke, and their welcome was at once displayed by the most
extravagant dancing and gesticulating with lances and shields, as though
intending to attack, rushing at me with the points of their lances thrust
close to my face, and shouting and singing in great excitement.</p>
<p>I made each of them a present of a bead necklace, and explained to them my
wish that there should be no delay in my presentation to Kamrasi, as Speke
had complained that he had been kept waiting fifteen days before the king
had condescended to see him; that if this occurred no Englishman would
ever visit him, as such a reception would be considered an insult. The
headman replied that he felt sure I was not an impostor; but that very
shortly after the departure of Speke and Grant in the previous year a
number of people had arrived in their name, introducing themselves as
their greatest friends. They had been ferried across the river, and well
received by Kamrasi's orders, and had been presented with ivory, slaves,
and leopard-skins, as tokens of friendship; but they had departed, and
suddenly returned with Rionga's people, and attacked the village in which
they had been so well received; and upon the country being assembled to
resist them, about three hundred of Kamrasi's men had been killed in the
fight. The king had therefore given orders that upon pain of death no
stranger should cross the river.</p>
<p>He continued, that when he saw our people marching along the bank of the
river they imagined us to be the same party that had attacked them
formerly, and they were prepared to resist us, and had sent on a messenger
to Kamrasi, who was three days' march from Karuma, at his capital,
M'rooli; until they received a reply it would be impossible to allow us to
enter the country. He promised to despatch another messenger immediately
to inform the king who we were, but that we must certainly wait until his
return. I explained that we had nothing to eat, and that it would be very
inconvenient to remain in such a spot; that I considered the suspicion
displayed was exceedingly unfair, as they must see that my wife and I were
white people like Speke and Grant, whereas those who had deceived them
were of a totally different race, all being either black or brown.</p>
<p>I told him that it did not much matter; that I had very beautiful presents
intended for Kamrasi, but that another great king would be only too glad
to accept them, without throwing obstacles in my way. I should accordingly
return with my presents.</p>
<p>At the same time I ordered a handsome Persian carpet, about fifteen feet
square, to be displayed as one of the presents intended for the king. The
gorgeous colors, as the carpet was unfolded, produced a general
exclamation. Before the effect of astonishment wore off I had a basket
unpacked, and displayed upon a cloth a heap of superb necklaces, that we
had prepared while at Obbo, of the choicest beads, many as large as
marbles, and glittering with every color of the rainbow. The garden of
jewels of Aladdin's wonderful lamp could not have produced more enticing
fruit. Beads were extremely rare in Kamrasi's land; the few that existed
had arrived from Zanzibar, and all that I exhibited were entirely new
varieties. I explained that I had many other presents, but that it was not
necessary to unpack them, as we were about to return with them to visit
another king, who lived some days' journey distant. "Don't go; don't go
away," said the headman and his companions. "Kamrasi will—" Here an
unmistakable pantomimic action explained their meaning better than words;
throwing their heads well back, they sawed across their throats with their
forefingers, making horrible grimaces, indicative of the cutting of
throats. I could not resist laughing at the terror that my threat of
returning with the presents had created. They explained that Kamrasi would
not only kill them, but would destroy the entire village of Atada should
we return without visiting him; but that he would perhaps punish them in
precisely the same manner should they ferry us across without special
orders. "Please yourselves," I replied; "if my party is not ferried across
by the time the sun reaches that spot on the heavens (pointing to the
position it would occupy at about 3 P.M.) I shall return." In a state of
great excitement they promised to hold a conference on the other side, and
to see what arrangements could be made. They returned to Atada, leaving
the whole party, including Ibrahim, exceedingly disconcerted, having
nothing to eat, an impassable river before us, and five days' march of
uninhabited wilderness in our rear.</p>
<p>The whole day passed in shouting and gesticulating our peaceful intentions
to the crowd assembled on the heights on the opposite side of the river;
but the boat did not return until long after the time appointed. Even then
the natives would only approach sufficiently near to be heard, but nothing
would induce them to land. They explained that there was a division of
opinion among the people on the other side: some were in favor of
receiving us, but the greater number were of opinion that we intended
hostilities; therefore we must wait until orders could be sent from the
king.</p>
<p>To assure the people of our peaceful intentions, I begged them to take
Mrs. Baker and myself alone, and to leave the armed party on this side of
the river until a reply should be received from Kamrasi. At this
suggestion the boat immediately returned to the other side.</p>
<p>The day passed away, and as the sun set we perceived the canoe again
paddling across the river. This time it approached directly, and the same
people landed that had received the necklaces in the morning. They said
that they had held a conference with the headman, and that they had agreed
to receive my wife and myself, but no other person. I replied that my
servants must accompany us, as we were quite as great personages as
Kamrasi, and could not possibly travel without attendants. To this they
demurred; therefore I dropped the subject, and proposed to load the canoe
with all the presents intended for Kamrasi. There was no objection to
this, and I ordered Richarn, Saat, and Ibrahim to get into the canoe to
stow away the luggage as it should be handed to them, but on no account to
leave the boat. I had already prepared everything in readiness, and a
bundle of rifles tied up in a large blanket and 500 rounds of ball
cartridge were unconsciously received on board as PRESENTS. I had
instructed Ibrahim to accompany us as my servant, as he was better than
most of the men in the event of a row; and I had given orders that, in
case of a preconcerted signal being given, the whole force should swim the
river, supporting themselves and guns upon bundles of papyrus rush. The
men thought us perfectly mad, and declared that we should be murdered
immediately when on the other side; however, they prepared for crossing
the river in case of treachery.</p>
<p>At the last moment, when the boat was about to leave the shore, two of the
best men jumped in with their guns. However, the natives positively
refused to start; therefore, to avoid suspicion, I ordered them to retire,
but I left word that on the morrow I would send the canoe across with
supplies, and that one or two men should endeavor to accompany the boat to
our side on every trip.</p>
<p>It was quite dark when we started. The canoe was formed of a large hollow
tree, capable of holding twenty people, and the natives paddled us across
the rapid current just below the falls. A large fire was blazing upon the
opposite shore, on a level with the river, to guide us to the
landing-place. Gliding through a narrow passage in the reeds, we touched
the shore and landed upon a slippery rock, close to the fire, amid a crowd
of people, who immediately struck up a deafening welcome with horns and
flageolets, and marched us up the steep face of the rocky cliff through a
dark grove of bananas. Torches led the way, followed by a long file of
spearmen; then came the noisy band and ourselves, I towing my wife up the
precipitous path, while my few attendants followed behind with a number of
natives who had volunteered to carry the luggage.</p>
<p>On arrival at the top of the cliff, we were about 180 feet above the
river; and after a walk of about a quarter of a mile, we were triumphantly
led into the heart of the village, and halted in a small courtyard in
front of the headman's residence.</p>
<p>Keedja waited to receive us by a blazing fire. Not having had anything to
eat, we were uncommonly hungry, and to our great delight a basketful of
ripe plantains was presented to us. These were the first that I had seen
for many years. A gourd bottle of plantain wine was offered and
immediately emptied; it resembled extremely poor cider. We were now
surrounded by a mass of natives, no longer the naked savages to whom we
had been accustomed, but well-dressed men, wearing robes of bark cloth,
arranged in various fashions, generally like the Arab "tope" or the Roman
toga. Several of the headmen now explained to us the atrocious treachery
of Debono's men, who had been welcomed as friends of Speke and Grant, but
who had repaid the hospitality by plundering and massacring their hosts. I
assured them that no one would be more wroth than Speke when I should make
him aware of the manner in which his name had been used, and that I should
make a point of reporting the circumstance to the British Government. At
the same time I advised them not to trust any but white people should
others arrive in my name or in the names of Speke and Grant. I upheld
their character as that of Englishmen, and I begged them to state if ever
they had deceived them. They replied that "there could not be better men."
I answered, "You MUST trust me, as I trust entirely in you, and have
placed myself in your hands; but if you have ever had cause to mistrust a
white man, kill me at once!—either kill me or trust in me; but let
there be no suspicions."</p>
<p>They seemed much pleased with the conversation, and a man stepped forward
and showed me a small string of blue beads that Speke bad given him for
ferrying him across the river. This little souvenir of my old friend was
most interesting. After a year's wandering and many difficulties, this was
the first time that I had actually come upon his track. Many people told
me that they had known Speke and Grant; the former bore the name of
"Mollegge" (the bearded one), while Grant had been named "Masanga" (the
elephant's tusk), owing to his height. The latter had been wounded at
Lucknow during the Indian mutiny, and I spoke to the people of the loss of
his finger. This crowned my success, as they knew without doubt that I had
seen him. It was late, therefore I begged the crowd to depart, but to send
a messenger the first thing in the morning to inform Kamrasi who we were,
and to beg him to permit us to visit him without loss of time.</p>
<p>A bundle of straw was laid on the ground for Mrs. Baker and myself, and,
in lieu of other beds, the ground was our resting-place. We were bitterly
cold that night, as the guns were packed up in the large blanket, and, not
wishing to expose them, we were contented with a Scotch plaid each.
Ibrahim, Saat, and Richarn watched by turns.</p>
<p>On the following morning an immense crowd of natives thronged to see us.
There was a very beautiful tree about a hundred yards from the village,
capable of shading upward of a thousand men, and I proposed that we should
sit beneath this protection and hold a conference. The headman of the
village gave us a large hut with a grand doorway about seven feet high, of
which my wife took possession, while I joined the crowd at the tree. There
were about six hundred men seated respectfully on the ground around me,
while I sat with my back to the huge knotty trunk, with Ibrahim and
Richarn at a few paces distant.</p>
<p>The subject of conversation was merely a repetition of that of the
preceding night, with the simple addition of some questions respecting the
lake. Not a man would give the slightest information; the only reply, upon
my forcing the question, was the pantomime already described, passing the
forefinger across the throat, and exclaiming "Kamrasi!" The entire
population was tongue-locked. I tried the children to no purpose: they
were all dumb. White-headed old men I questioned, as to the distance of
the lake from this point. They replied, "We are children; ask the old
people who know the country." Never was freemasonry more secret than in
the land of Unyoro. It was useless to persevere. I therefore changed the
subject by saying that our people were starving on the other side, and
that provisions must be sent immediately. In all savage countries the most
trifling demand requires much talking. They said that provisions were
scarce, and that until Kamrasi should give the order, they could give no
supplies. Understanding most thoroughly the natural instincts of the
natives, I told them that I must send the canoe across to fetch three oxen
that I wished to slaughter. The bait took at once, and several men ran for
the canoe, and we sent one of our black women across with a message to the
people that three men, with their guns and ammunition, were to accompany
the canoe and guide three oxen across by swimming them with ropes tied to
their horns. These were the riding oxen of some of the men that it was
necessary to slaughter, to exchange the flesh for flour and other
supplies.</p>
<p>Hardly had the few boatmen departed than some one shouted suddenly, and
the entire crowd sprang to their feet and rushed toward the hut where I
had left Mrs. Baker. For the moment I thought that the hut was on fire,
and I joined the crowd and arrived at the doorway, where I found a
tremendous press to see some extraordinary sight. Every one was squeezing
for the best place, and, driving them on one side, I found the wonder that
had excited their curiosity. The hut being very dark, my wife had employed
her solitude during my conference with the natives, in dressing her hair
at the doorway, which, being very long and blonde, was suddenly noticed by
some natives; a shout was given, the rush described had taken place, and
the hut was literally mobbed by the crowd of savages eager to see the
extraordinary novelty. The gorilla would not make a greater stir in London
streets than we appeared to create at Atada.</p>
<p>The oxen shortly arrived; one was immediately killed, and the flesh
divided into numerous small portions arranged upon the hide. Blonde hair
and white people immediately lost their attractions, and the crowd turned
their attention to beef. We gave them to understand that we required
flour, beans, and sweet potatoes in exchange.</p>
<p>The market soon went briskly, and the canoe was laden with provisions and
sent across to our hungry people on the other side the river.</p>
<p>The difference between the Unyoro people and the tribes we had hitherto
seen was most striking. On the north side of the river the natives were
either stark naked or wore a mere apology for clothing in the shape of a
skin slung across their shoulders. The river appeared to be the limit of
utter savagedom, and the people of Unyoro considered the indecency of
nakedness precisely in the same light as Europeans.</p>
<p>Nearly all savages have some idea of earthenware; but the scale of
advancement of a country between savagedom and civilization may generally
be determined by the style of its pottery. The Chinese, who were as
civilized as they are at the present day at a period when the English were
barbarians, were ever celebrated for the manufacture of porcelain, and the
difference between savage and civilized countries is always thus
exemplified; the savage makes earthenware, but the civilized make
porcelain; thus the gradations from the rudest earthenware will mark the
improvement in the scale of civilization. The prime utensil of the African
savage is a gourd, the shell of which is the bowl presented to him by
nature as the first idea from which he is to model. Nature, adapting
herself to the requirements of animals and man, appears in these savage
countries to yield abundantly much that savage man can want. Gourds with
exceedingly strong shells not only grow wild, which if divided in halves
afford bowls, but great and quaint varieties form natural bottles of all
sizes, from the tiny vial to the demijohn containing five gallons.</p>
<p>The most savage tribes content themselves with the productions of nature,
confining their manufacture to a coarse and half-baked jar for carrying
water; but the semi-savage, like those of Unyoro, afford an example of the
first step toward manufacturing art, by their COPYING FROM NATURE. The
utter savage makes use of nature—the gourd is his utensil; and the
more advanced natives of Unyoro adopt it as the model for their pottery.
They make a fine quality of jet-black earthenware, producing excellent
tobacco-pipes most finely worked in imitation of the small egg-shaped
gourd. Of the same earthenware they make extremely pretty bowls, and also
bottles copied from the varieties of the bottle gourds; thus, in this
humble art, we see the first effort of the human mind in manufactures, in
taking nature for a model, precisely as the beautiful Corinthian capital
originated in a design from a basket of flowers.</p>
<p>In two days reports were brought that Kamrasi had sent a large force,
including several of Speke's deserters, to inspect me and see if I was
really Speke's brother. I received them standing, and after thorough
inspection I was pronounced to be "Speke's own brother," and all were
satisfied. However, the business was not yet over; plenty of talk, and
another delay of four days was declared necessary until the king should
reply to the satisfactory message about to be sent. Losing all patience, I
stormed, declaring Kamrasi to be mere dust, while a white man was a king
in comparison. I ordered all my luggage to be conveyed immediately to the
canoe, and declared that I would return immediately to my own country;
that I did not wish to see any one so utterly devoid of manners as
Kamrasi, and that no other white man would ever visit his kingdom.</p>
<p>The effect was magical! I rose hastily to depart. The chiefs implored,
declaring that Kamrasi would kill them all if I retreated, to prevent
which misfortune they secretly instructed the canoe to be removed. I was
in a great rage, and about 400 natives, who were present, scattered in all
quarters, thinking that there would be a serious quarrel. I told the
chiefs that nothing should stop me, and that I would seize the canoe by
force unless my whole party should be brought over from the opposite side
that instant. This was agreed upon. One of Ibrahim's men exchanged and
drank blood from the arm of Speke's deserter, who was Kamrasi's
representative; and peace thus firmly established, several canoes were at
once employed, and sixty of our men were brought across the river before
sunset. The natives had nevertheless taken the precaution to send all
their women away from the village.</p>
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<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XIX. </h2>
<p>Kamrasi's cowardice—Interview with the king—The exchange of
blood—The royal beggar's last chance—An astounded sovereign.</p>
<p>On January 31st throngs of natives arrived to carry our luggage gratis, by
the king's orders. On the following day my wife became very ill, and had
to be carried on a litter during the following days. On February 4th I
also fell ill upon the road, and having been held on my ox by two men for
some time, I at length fell into their arms and was laid under a tree for
five hours. Becoming better, I rode on for two hours.</p>
<p>On the route we were delayed in every possible way. I never saw such
cowardice as the redoubtable Kamrasi exhibited. He left his residence and
retreated to the opposite side of the river, from which point he sent us
false messages to delay our advance as much as possible. He had not the
courage either to repel us or to receive us. On February 9th he sent word
that I was to come on ALONE. I at once turned back, stating that I no
longer wished to see Kamrasi, as he must be a mere fool, and I should
return to my own country. This created a great stir, and messengers were
at once despatched to the king, who returned an answer that I might bring
all my men, but that only five of the Turks could be allowed with Ibrahim.</p>
<p>After a quick march of three hours through immense woods we reached the
capital—a large village of grass huts situated on a barren slope. We
were ferried across a river in large canoes, capable of carrying fifty
men, but formed of a single tree upward of four feet wide. Kamrasi was
reported to be in his residence on the opposite side; but upon our arrival
at the south bank we found ourselves thoroughly deceived. We were upon a
miserable flat, level with the river, and in the wet season forming a
marsh at the junction of the Kafoor River with the Somerset. The latter
river bounded the flat on the east, very wide and sluggish, and much
overgrown with papyrus and lotus. The river we had just crossed was the
Kafoor. It was perfectly dead water and about eighty yards wide, including
the beds of papyrus on either side. We were shown some filthy huts that
were to form our camp. The spot was swarming with mosquitoes, and we had
nothing to eat except a few fowls that I had brought with me. Kamrasi was
on the OTHER SIDE OF THE RIVER; they had cunningly separated us from him,
and had returned with the canoes. Thus we were prisoners upon the swamp.
This was our welcome from the King of Unyoro! I now heard that Speke and
Grant had been lodged in this same spot.</p>
<p>Ibrahim was extremely nervous, as were also my men. They declared that
treachery was intended, as the boats had been withdrawn, and they proposed
that we should swim the river and march back to our main party, who had
been left three hours in the rear. I was ill with fever, as was also my
wife, and the unwholesome air of the marsh aggravated the disease. Our
luggage had been left at our last station, as this was a condition
stipulated by Kamrasi; thus we had to sleep upon the damp ground of the
marsh in the filthy hut, as the heavy dew at night necessitated shelter.
With great difficulty I accompanied Ibrahim and a few men to the bank of
the river where we had landed the day before, and, climbing upon a white
ant hill to obtain a view over the high reeds, I scanned the village with
a telescope. The scene was rather exciting; crowds of people were rushing
about in all directions and gathering from all quarters toward the river;
the slope from the river to the town M'rooli was black with natives, and I
saw about a dozen large canoes preparing to transport them to our side. I
returned from my elevated observatory to Ibrahim, who, on the low ground
only a few yards distant, could not see the opposite side of the river
owing to the high grass and reeds. Without saying more, I merely begged
him to mount upon the ant hill and look toward M'rooli. Hardly had he cast
a glance at the scene described, than he jumped down from his stand and
cried, "They are going to attack us!" "Let us retreat to the camp and
prepare for a fight!" "Let us fire at them from here as they cross in the
canoes," cried others; "the buckshot will clear them off when packed in
the boats." This my panic-stricken followers would have done had I not
been present.</p>
<p>"Fools!" I said, "do you not see that the natives have no SHIELDS with
them, but merely lances? Would they commence an attack without their
shields? Kamrasi is coming in state to visit us." This idea was by no
means accepted by my people, and we reached our little camp, and, for the
sake of precaution, stationed the men in position behind a hedge of
thorns. Ibrahim had managed to bring twelve picked men instead of five as
stipulated; thus we were a party of twenty-four. I was of very little use,
as the fever was so strong upon me that I lay helpless on the ground.</p>
<p>In a short time the canoes arrived, and for about an hour they were
employed in crossing and recrossing, and landing great numbers of men,
until they at length advanced and took possession of some huts about 200
yards from our camp. They now hallooed that Kamrasi had arrived, and,
seeing some oxen with the party, I felt sure they had no evil intentions.
I ordered my men to carry me in their arms to the king, and to accompany
me with the presents, as I was determined to have a personal interview,
although only fit for a hospital.</p>
<p>Upon my approach, the crowd gave way, and I was shortly laid on a mat at
the king's feet. He was a fine-looking man, but with a peculiar expression
of countenance, owing to his extremely prominent eyes; he was about six
feet high, beautifully clean, and was dressed in a long robe of bark cloth
most gracefully folded. The nails of his hands and feet were carefully
attended to, and his complexion was about as dark brown as that of an
Abyssinian. He sat upon a copper stool placed upon a carpet of
leopard-skins, and he was surrounded by about ten of his principal chiefs.</p>
<p>Our interpreter, Bacheeta, now informed him who I was, and what were my
intentions. He said that he was sorry I had been so long on the road, but
that he had been obliged to be cautious, having been deceived by Debono's
people. I replied that I was an Englishman, a friend of Speke and Grant,
that they had described the reception they had met with from him, and that
I had come to thank him, and to offer him a few presents in return for his
kindness, and to request him to give me a guide to the Lake Luta N'zige.
He laughed at the name, and repeated it several times with his chiefs. He
then said it was not LUTA, but M-WOOTAN N'zige; but that it was SIX
MONTHS' journey from M'rooli, and that in my weak condition I could not
possibly reach it; that I should die upon the road, and that the king of
my country would perhaps imagine that I had been murdered, and might
invade his territory. I replied that I was weak with the toil of years in
the hot countries of Africa, but that I was in search of the great lake,
and should not return until I had succeeded; that I had no king, but a
powerful Queen who watched over all her subjects, and that no Englishman
could be murdered with impunity; therefore he should send me to the lake
without delay, and there would be the less chance of my dying in his
country.</p>
<p>I explained that the river Nile flowed for a distance of two years'
journey through wonderful countries, and reached the sea, from which many
valuable articles would be sent to him in exchange for ivory, could I only
discover the great lake. As a proof of this, I had brought him a few
curiosities that I trusted he would accept, and I regretted that the
impossibility of procuring porters had necessitated the abandonment of
others that had been intended for him.</p>
<p>I ordered the men to unpack the Persian carpet, which was spread upon the
ground before him. I then gave him an Abba (large white Cashmere mantle),
a red silk netted sash, a pair of scarlet Turkish shoes, several pairs of
socks, a double-barrelled gun and ammunition, and a great heap of
first-class beads made up into gorgeous necklaces and girdles. He took
very little notice of the presents, but requested that the gun might be
fired off. This was done, to the utter confusion of the crowd, who rushed
away in such haste that they tumbled over each other like so many rabbits.
This delighted the king, who, although himself startled, now roared with
laughter. He told me that I must be hungry and thirsty; therefore he hoped
I would accept something to eat and drink. Accordingly he presented me
with seventeen cows, twenty pots of sour plantain cider, and many loads of
unripe plantains. I inquired whether Speke had left a medicine-chest with
him. He replied that it was a very feverish country, and that he and his
people had used all the medicine. Thus my last hope of quinine was cut
off. I had always trusted to obtain a supply from the king, as Speke had
told me that he had left a bottle with him. It was quite impossible to
obtain any information from him, and I was carried back to my hut, where I
found Mrs. Baker lying down with fever, and neither of us could render
assistance to the other.</p>
<p>On the following morning the king again appeared. I was better, and had a
long interview. He did not appear to heed my questions, but he at once
requested that I would ally myself with him, and attack his enemy, Rionga.
I told him that I could not embroil myself in such quarrels, but that I
had only one object, which was the lake. I requested that he would give
Ibrahim a large quantity of ivory, and that on his return from Gondokoro
he would bring him most valuable articles in exchange. He said that he was
not sure whether my belly was black or white; by this he intended to
express evil or good intentions; but that if it were white I should, of
course, have no objection to exchange blood with him, as a proof of
friendship and sincerity. This was rather too strong a dose! I replied
that it would be impossible, as in my country the shedding of blood was
considered a proof of hostility; therefore he must accept Ibrahim as my
substitute. Accordingly the arms were bared and pricked. As the blood
flowed it was licked by either party, and an alliance was concluded.
Ibrahim agreed to act with him against all his enemies. It was arranged
that Ibrahim now belonged to Kamrasi, and that henceforth our parties
should be entirely separate.</p>
<p>On February 21st Kamrasi was civil enough to allow us to quit the marsh.
My porters had by this time all deserted, and on the following day Kamrasi
promised to send us porters and to allow us to start at once. There were
no preparations made, however, and after some delay we were honored by a
visit from Kamrasi, who promised we should start on the following day.</p>
<p>He concluded, as usual, by asking for my watch and for a number of beads;
the latter I gave him, together with a quantity of ammunition for his
guns. He showed me a beautiful double-barrelled rifle that Speke had given
him. I wished to secure this to give to Speke on my return to England, as
he had told me, when at Gondokoro, how he had been obliged to part with
that and many other articles sorely against his will. I therefore offered
to give him three common double-barrelled guns in exchange for the rifle.
This he declined, as he was quite aware of the difference in quality. He
then produced a large silver chronometer that he had received from Speke.
"It was DEAD," he said, "and he wished me to repair it." This I declared
to be impossible. He then confessed to having explained its construction
and the cause of the "ticking" to his people, by the aid of a needle, and
that it had never ticked since that occasion. I regretted to see such
"pearls cast before swine." Thus he had plundered Speke and Grant of all
they possessed before he would allow them to proceed.</p>
<p>It is the rapacity of the chiefs of the various tribes that renders
African exploration so difficult. Each tribe wishes to monopolize your
entire stock of valuables, without which the traveller would be utterly
helpless. The difficulty of procuring porters limits the amount of
baggage; thus a given supply must carry you through a certain period of
time. If your supply should fail, the expedition terminates with your
power of giving. It is thus extremely difficult to arrange the expenditure
so as to satisfy all parties and still to retain a sufficient balance.
Being utterly cut off from all communication with the world, there is no
possibility of receiving assistance. The traveller depends entirely upon
himself, under Providence, and must adapt himself and his means to
circumstances.</p>
<p>The day of starting at length arrived. The chief and guide appeared, and
we were led to the Kafoor River, where canoes were in readiness to
transport us to the south side. This was to our old quarters on the marsh.
The direct course to the lake was west, and I fully expected some
deception, as it was impossible to trust Kamrasi. I complained to the
guide, and insisted upon his pointing out the direction of the lake, which
he did, in its real position, west; but he explained that we must follow
the south bank of the Kafoor River for some days, as there was an
impassable morass that precluded a direct course. This did not appear
satisfactory, and the whole affair looked suspicious, as we had formerly
been deceived by being led across the river to the same spot, and not
allowed to return. We were now led along the banks of the Kafoor for about
a mile, until we arrived at a cluster of huts; here we were to wait for
Kamrasi, who had promised to take leave of us. The sun was overpowering,
and we dismounted from our oxen and took shelter in a blacksmith's shed.
In about an hour Kamrasi arrived, attended by a considerable number of
men, and took his seat in our shed. I felt convinced that his visit was
simply intended to peel the last skin from the onion. I had already given
him nearly all that I had, but he hoped to extract the whole before I
should depart.</p>
<p>He almost immediately commenced the conversation by asking for a pretty
yellow muslin Turkish handkerchief fringed with silver drops that Mrs.
Baker wore upon her head. One of these had already been given to him, and
I explained that this was the last remaining, and that she required it....
He "must" have it.... It was given. He then demanded other handkerchiefs.
We had literally nothing but a few most ragged towels. He would accept no
excuse, and insisted upon a portmanteau being unpacked, that he might
satisfy himself by actual inspection. The luggage, all ready for the
journey, had to be unstrapped and examined, and the rags were displayed in
succession, but so wretched and uninviting was the exhibition of the
family linen that he simply returned them, and said they did not suit him.
Beads he must have, or I was "his enemy." A selection of the best opal
beads was immediately given him. I rose from the stone upon which I was
sitting and declared that we must start immediately. "Don't be in a
hurry," he replied; "you have plenty of time; but you have not given me
that watch you promised me."... This was my only watch that he had begged
for, and had been refused, every day during my stay at M'rooli. So
pertinacious a beggar I had never seen. I explained to him that without
the watch my journey would be useless, but that I would give him all that
I had except the watch when the exploration should be completed, as I
should require nothing on my direct return to Gondokoro. At the same time
I repeated to him the arrangement for the journey that he had promised,
begging him not to deceive me, as my wife and I should both die if we were
compelled to remain another year in this country by losing the annual
boats at Gondokoro.</p>
<p>The understanding was this: he was to give me porters to the lake, where I
was to be furnished with canoes to take me to Magungo, which was situated
at the junction of the Somerset. From Magungo he told me that I should see
the Nile issuing from the lake close to the spot where the Somerset
entered, and that the canoes should take me down the river, and porters
should carry my effects from the nearest point to Shooa, and deliver me at
my old station without delay. Should he be faithful to this engagement, I
trusted to procure porters from Shooa, and to reach Gondokoro in time for
the annual boats. I had arranged that a boat should be sent from Khartoum
to await me at Gondokoro early in this year, 1864; but I felt sure that
should I be long delayed, the boat would return without me, as the people
would be afraid to remain alone at Gondokoro after the other boats had
quitted.</p>
<p>In our present weak state another year of Central Africa without quinine
appeared to warrant death. It was a race against time; all was untrodden
ground before us, and the distance quite uncertain. I trembled for my
wife, and weighed the risk of another year in this horrible country should
we lose the boats. With the self-sacrificing devotion that she had shown
in every trial, she implored me not to think of any risks on her account,
but to push forward and discover the lake—that she had determined
not to return until she had herself reached the "M'wootan N'zige."</p>
<p>I now requested Kamrasi to allow us to take leave, as we had not an hour
to lose. In the coolest manner he replied, "I will send you to the lake
and to Shooa, as I have promised, but YOU MUST LEAVE YOUR WIFE WITH ME!"</p>
<p>At that moment we were surrounded by a great number of natives, and my
suspicions of treachery at having been led across the Kafoor River
appeared confirmed by this insolent demand. If this were to be the end of
the expedition, I resolved that it should also be the end of Kamrasi, and
drawing my revolver quickly, I held it within two feet of his chest, and
looking at him with undisguised contempt, I told him that if I touched the
trigger, not all his men could save him; and that if he dared to repeat
the insult I would shoot him on the spot. At the same time I explained to
him that in my country such insolence would entail bloodshed, and that I
looked upon him as an ignorant ox who knew no better, and that this excuse
alone could save him. My wife, naturally indignant, had risen from her
seat, and maddened with the excitement of the moment she made him a little
speech in Arabic (not a word of which he understood), with a countenance
almost as amiable as the head of Medusa. Altogether the mine en scene
utterly astonished him. The woman Bacheeta, although savage, had
appropriated the insult to her mistress, and she also fearlessly let fly
at Kamrasi, translating as nearly as she could the complimentary address
that "Medusa" had just delivered.</p>
<p>Whether this little coup be theatre had so impressed Kamrasi with British
female independence that he wished to be quit of his proposed bargain, I
cannot say; but with an air of complete astonishment he said, "Don't be
angry! I had no intention of offending you by asking for your wife. I will
give your a wife, if you want one, and I thought you might have no
objection to give me yours; it is my custom to give my visitors pretty
wives, and I thought you might exchange. Don't make a fuss about it; if
you don't like it, there's an end of it; I will never mention it again."
This very practical apology I received very sternly, and merely insisted
upon starting. He seemed rather confused at having committed himself, and
to make amends he called his people and ordered them to carry our loads.
His men ordered a number of women, who had assembled out of curiosity, to
shoulder the luggage and carry it to the next village, where they would be
relieved. I assisted my wife upon her ox, and with a very cold adieu to
Kamrasi I turned my back most gladly on M'rooli.</p>
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<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XX. </h2>
<p>A satanic escort—Prostrated by sun-stroke—Days and nights of
sorrow-The reward for all our labor.</p>
<p>The country was a vast flat of grass land interspersed with small villages
and patches of sweet potatoes. These were very inferior, owing to the want
of drainage. For about two miles we continued on the banks of the Kafoor
River. The women who carried the luggage were straggling in disorder, and
my few men were much scattered in their endeavors to collect them. We
approached a considerable village; but just as we were nearing it, out
rushed about six hundred men with lances and shields, screaming and
yelling like so many demons. For the moment I thought it was an attack,
but almost immediately I noticed that women and children were mingled with
the men. My men had not taken so cool a view of the excited throng that
was now approaching us at full speed, brandishing their spears, and
engaging with each other in mock combat. "There's a fight! there's a
fight!" my men exclaimed; "we are attacked! fire at them, Ilawaga."
However, in a few seconds I persuaded them that it was a mere parade, and
that there was no danger.</p>
<p>With a rush like a cloud of locusts the natives closed around us, dancing,
gesticulating, and yelling before my ox, feigning to attack us with spears
and shields, then engaging in sham fights with each other, and behaving
like so many madmen. A very tall chief accompanied them; and one of their
men was suddenly knocked down and attacked by the crowd with sticks and
lances, and lay on the ground covered with blood. What his offence had
been I did not hear. The entire crowd were most grotesquely got up, being
dressed in either leopard or white monkey skins, with cows' tails strapped
on behind and antelopes' horns fitted upon their heads, while their chins
were ornamented with false beards made of the bushy ends of cows' tails
sewed together. Altogether I never saw a more unearthly set of creatures;
they were perfect illustrations of my childish ideas of devils-horns,
tails, and all, excepting the hoofs. They were our escort, furnished by
Kamrasi to accompany us to the lake! Fortunately for all parties, the
Turks were not with us on that occasion, or the Satanic escort would
certainly have been received with a volley when they so rashly advanced to
compliment us by their absurd performances.</p>
<p>We marched till 7 P.M. over flat, uninteresting country, and then halted
at a miserable village which the people had deserted, as they expected our
arrival. The following morning I found much difficulty in getting our
escort together, as they had been foraging throughout the neighborhood;
these "devil's own" were a portion of Kamrasi's troops, who considered
themselves entitled to plunder ad libitum throughout the march; however,
after some delay they collected, and their tall chief approached me and
begged that a gun might be fired as a curiosity. The escort had crowded
around us, and as the boy Saat was close to me I ordered him to fire his
gun. This was Saat's greatest delight, and bang went one barrel
unexpectedly, close to the tall chief's ear. The effect was charming. The
tall chief, thinking himself injured, clasped his head with both hands,
and bolted through the crowd, which, struck with a sudden panic, rushed
away in all directions, the "devil's own" tumbling over each other and
utterly scattered by the second barrel which Saat exultingly fired in
derision, as Kamrasi's warlike regiment dissolved before a sound. I felt
quite sure that, in the event of a fight, one scream from the "Baby," with
its charge of forty small bullets, would win the battle if well delivered
into a crowd of Kamrasi's troops.</p>
<p>On the morning of the second day we had difficulty in collecting porters,
those of the preceding day having absconded; and others were recruited
from distant villages by the native escort, who enjoyed the excuse of
hunting for porters, as it gave them an opportunity of foraging throughout
the neighborhood. During this time we had to wait until the sun was high;
we thus lost the cool hours of morning, and it increased our fatigue.
Having at length started, we arrived in the afternoon at the Kafoor River,
at a bend from the south where it was necessary to cross over in our
westerly course. The stream was in the centre of a marsh, and although
deep, it was so covered with thickly-matted water-grass and other aquatic
plants, that a natural floating bridge was established by a carpet of
weeds about two feet thick. Upon this waving and unsteady surface the men
ran quickly across, sinking merely to the ankles, although beneath the
tough vegetation there was deep water.</p>
<p>It was equally impossible to ride or to be carried over this treacherous
surface; thus I led the way, and begged Mrs. Baker to follow me on foot as
quickly as possible, precisely in my track. The river was about eighty
yards wide, and I had scarcely completed a fourth of the distance and
looked back to see if my wife followed close to me, when I was horrified
to see her standing in one spot and sinking gradually through the weeds,
while her face was distorted and perfectly purple. Almost as soon as I
perceived her she fell as though shot dead. In an instant I was by her
side, and with the assistance of eight or ten of my men, who were
fortunately close to me, I dragged her like a corpse through the yielding
vegetation; and up to our waists we scrambled across to the other side,
just keeping her head above the water. To have carried her would have been
impossible, as we should all have sunk together through the weeds. I laid
her under a tree and bathed her head and face with water, as for the
moment I thought she had fainted; but she lay perfectly insensible, as
though dead, with teeth and hands firmly clinched, and her eyes open but
fixed. It was a coup de soleil—a sun-stroke.</p>
<p>Many of the porters had gone on ahead with the baggage, and I started off
a man in haste to recall an angarep upon which to carry her and also for a
bag with a change of clothes, as we had dragged her through the river. It
was in vain that I rubbed her heart and the black women rubbed her feet to
restore animation. At length the litter came, and after changing her
clothes she was carried mournfully forward as a corpse. Constantly we had
to halt and support her head, as a painful rattling in the throat
betokened suffocation. At length we reached a village, and halted for the
night.</p>
<p>I laid her carefully in a miserable hut, and watched beside her. I opened
her clinched teeth with a small wooden wedge and inserted a wet rag, upon
which I dropped water to moisten her tongue, which was dry as fur. The
unfeeling brutes that composed the native escort were yelling and dancing
as though all were well, and I ordered their chief at once to return with
them to Kamrasi, as I would travel with them no longer. At first they
refused to return, until at length I vowed that I would fire into them
should they accompany us on the following morning. Day broke, and it was a
relief to have got rid of the brutal escort. They had departed, and I had
now my own men and the guides supplied by Kamrasi.</p>
<p>There was nothing to eat in this spot. My wife had never stirred since she
fell by the coup de soleil, and merely respired about five times in a
minute. It was impossible to remain; the people would have starved. She
was laid gently upon her litter, and we started forward on our funereal
course. I was ill and broken-hearted, and I followed by her side through
the long day's march over wild park lands and streams, with thick forest
and deep marshy bottoms, over undulating hills and through valleys of tall
papyrus rushes, which, as we brushed through them on our melancholy way,
waved over the litter like the black plumes of a hearse.</p>
<p>We halted at a village, and again the night was passed in watching. I was
wet and coated with mud from the swampy marsh, and shivered with ague; but
the cold within was greater than all. No change had taken place; she had
never moved. I had plenty of fat, and I made four balls of about half a
pound, each of which would burn for three hours. A piece of a broken
water-jar formed a lamp, several pieces of rag serving for wicks. So in
solitude the still calm night passed away as I sat by her side and
watched. In the drawn and distorted features that lay before me I could
hardly trace the same face that for years had been my comfort through all
the difficulties and dangers of my path. Was she to die? Was so terrible a
sacrifice to be the result of my selfish exile?</p>
<p>Again the night passed away. Once more the march. Though weak and ill, and
for two nights without a moment's sleep, I felt no fatigue, but
mechanically followed by the side of the litter as though in a dream. The
same wild country diversified with marsh and forest! Again we halted. The
night came, and I sat by her side in a miserable hut, with the feeble lamp
flickering while she lay as in death. She had never moved a muscle since
she fell. My people slept. I was alone, and no sound broke the stillness
of the night. The ears ached at the utter silence, till the sudden wild
cry of a hyena made me shudder as the horrible thought rushed through my
brain that, should she be buried in this lonely spot, the hyena—would
disturb her rest.</p>
<p>The morning was not far distant; it was past four o'clock. I had passed
the night in replacing wet cloths upon her head and moistening her lips,
as she lay apparently lifeless on her litter. I could do nothing more; in
solitude and abject misery in that dark hour, in a country of savage
heathen, thousands of miles away from a Christian land, I beseeched an aid
above all human, trusting alone to Him.</p>
<p>The morning broke; my lamp had just burned out, and cramped with the
night's watching I rose from my low seat and seeing that she lay in the
same unaltered state I went to the door of the hut to breathe one gasp of
the fresh morning air. I was watching the first red streak that heralded
the rising sun, when I was startled by the words, "Thank God," faintly
uttered behind me. Suddenly she had awoke from her torpor, and with a
heart overflowing I went to her bedside. Her eyes were full of madness!
She spoke, but the brain was gone!</p>
<p>I will not inflict a description of the terrible trial of seven days of
brain fever, with its attendant horrors. The rain poured in torrents, and
day after day we were forced to travel for want of provisions, not being
able to remain in one position. Every now and then we shot a few
guinea-fowl, but rarely; there was no game, although the country was most
favorable. In the forests we procured wild honey, but the deserted
villages contained no supplies, as we were on the frontier of Uganda, and
M'tese's people had plundered the district. For seven nights I had not
slept, and although as weak as a reed, I had marched by the side of her
litter. Nature could resist no longer. We reached a village one evening.
She had been in violent convulsions successively; it was all but over. I
laid her down on her litter within a hat, covered her with a Scotch plaid,
and fell upon my mat insensible, worn out with sorrow and fatigue. My men
put a new handle to the pickaxe that evening, and sought for a dry spot to
dig her grave!</p>
<p>The sun had risen when I woke. I had slept, and horrified as the idea
flashed upon me that she must be dead and that I had not been with her, I
started up. She lay upon her bed, pale as marble, and with that calm
serenity that the features assume when the cares of life no longer act
upon the mind and the body rests in death. The dreadful thought bowed me
down; but as I gazed upon her in fear her chest gently heaved, not with
the convulsive throbs of fever, but naturally. She was asleep; and when at
a sudden noise she opened her eyes, they were calm and clear. She was
saved! When not a ray of hope remained, God alone knows what helped us.
The gratitude of that moment I will not attempt to describe.</p>
<p>Fortunately there were many fowls in this village. We found several nests
of fresh eggs in the straw which littered the hut; these were most
acceptable after our hard fare, and produced a good supply of soup. Having
rested for two days we again moved forward, Mrs. Baker being carried on a
litter.</p>
<p>The next day we reached the village of Parkani. For several days past our
guides had told us that we were very near to the lake, and we were now
assured that we should reach it on the morrow. I had noticed a lofty range
of mountains at an immense distance west, and I had imagined that the lake
lay on the other side of this chain; but I was now informed that those
mountains formed the western frontier of the M'wootan N'zige, and that the
lake was actually within a day's march of Parkani. I could not believe it
possible that we were so near the object of our search. The guide Rabonga
now appeared, and declared that if we started early on the following
morning we should be able to wash in the lake by noon!</p>
<p>That night I hardly slept. For years I had striven to reach the "sources
of the Nile." In my nightly dreams during that arduous voyage I had always
failed, but after so much hard work and perseverance the cup was at my
very lips, and I was to DRINK at the mysterious fountain before another
sun should set—at that great reservoir of nature that ever since
creation had baffled all discovery.</p>
<p>I had hoped, and prayed, and striven through all kinds of difficulties, in
sickness, starvation, and fatigue, to reach that hidden source; and when
it had appeared impossible we had both determined to die upon the road
rather than return defeated. Was it possible that it was so near, and that
to-morrow we could say, "The work is accomplished"?</p>
<p>The sun had not risen when I was spurring my ox after the guide, who,
having been promised a double handful of beads on arrival at the lake, had
caught the enthusiasm of the moment. The day broke beautifully clear, and
having crossed a deep valley between the hills, we toiled up the opposite
slope. I hurried to the summit. The glory of our prize burst suddenly upon
me! There, like a sea of quicksilver, lay far beneath the grand expanse of
water—a boundless sea horizon on the south and south-west,
glittering in the noonday sun; and in the west, at fifty or sixty miles'
distance, blue mountains rose from the bosom of the lake to a height of
about 7000 feet above its level.</p>
<p>It is impossible to describe the triumph of that moment. Here was the
reward for all our labor—for the years of tenacity with which we had
toiled through Africa. England had won the sources of the Nile! Long
before I reached this spot I had arranged to give three cheers with all
our men in English style in honor of the discovery; but now that I looked
down upon the great inland sea lying nestled in the very heart of Africa,
and thought how vainly mankind had sought these sources throughout so many
ages, and reflected that I had been the humble instrument permitted to
unravel this portion of the great mystery when so many greater than I had
failed, I felt too serious to vent my feelings in vain cheers for victory,
and I sincerely thanked God for having guided and supported us through all
dangers to the good end. I was about 1500 feet above the lake, and I
looked down from the steep granite cliff upon those welcome waters—upon
that vast reservoir which nourished Egypt and brought fertility where all
was wilderness—upon that great source so long hidden from mankind,
that source of bounty and of blessings to millions of human beings; and as
one of the greatest objects in nature, I determined to honor it with a
great name. As an imperishable memorial of one loved and mourned by our
gracious Queen and deplored by every Englishman, I called this great lake
"the Albert N'yanza." The Victoria and the Albert lakes are the two
Sources of the Nile.</p>
<p>The zigzag path to descend to the lake was so steep and dangerous that we
were forced to leave our oxen with a guide, who was to take them to
Magungo and wait for our arrival. We commenced the descent of the steep
pass on foot. I led the way, grasping a stout bamboo. My wife in extreme
weakness tottered down the pass, supporting herself upon my shoulder, and
stopping to rest every twenty paces. After a toilsome descent of about two
hours, weak with years of fever, but for the moment strengthened by
success, we gained the level plain below the cliff. A walk of about a mile
through flat sandy meadows of fine turf interspersed with trees and bushes
brought us to the water's edge. The waves were rolling upon a white pebbly
beach; I rushed into the lake, and thirsty with heat and fatigue, with a
heart full of gratitude, I drank deeply from the Sources of the Nile.</p>
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<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XXI. </h2>
<p>The cradle of the Nile—Arrival at Magungo—The blind leading
the blind—Murchison Falls.</p>
<p>The beach was perfectly clean sand, upon which the waves rolled like those
of the sea, throwing up weeds precisely as seaweed may be seen upon the
English shore. It was a grand sight to look upon this vast reservoir of
the mighty Nile and to watch the heavy swell tumbling upon the beach,
while far to the south-west the eye searched as vainly for a bound as
though upon the Atlantic. It was with extreme emotion that I enjoyed this
glorious scene. My wife, who had followed me so devotedly, stood by my
side pale and exhausted—a wreck upon the shores of the great Albert
Lake that we had so long striven to reach. No European foot had ever trod
upon its sand, nor had the eyes of a white man ever scanned its vast
expanse of water. We were the first; and this was the key to the great
secret that even Julius Caesar yearned to unravel, but in vain. Here was
the great basin of the Nile that received EVERY DROP OF WATER, even from
the passing shower to the roaring mountain torrent that drained from
Central Africa toward the north. This was the great reservoir of the Nile!</p>
<p>The first coup d'oeil from the summit of the cliff 1500 feet above the
level had suggested what a closer examination confirmed. The lake was a
vast depression far below the general level of the country, surrounded by
precipitous cliffs, and bounded on the west and south-west by great ranges
of mountains from five to seven thousand feet above the level of its
waters—thus it was the one great reservoir into which everything
MUST drain; and from this vast rocky cistern the Nile made its exit, a
giant in its birth. It was a grand arrangement of nature for the birth of
so mighty and important a stream as the river Nile. The Victoria N'yanza
of Speke formed a reservoir at a high altitude, receiving a drainage from
the west by the Kitangule River; and Speke had seen the M'fumbiro Mountain
at a great distance as a peak among other mountains from which the streams
descended, which by uniting formed the main river Kitangule, the principal
feeder of the Victoria Lake from the west, in about 2 degrees S. latitude.
Thus the same chain of mountains that fed the Victoria on the east must
have a watershed to the west and north that would flow into the Albert
Lake. The general drainage of the Nile basin tending from south to north,
and the Albert Lake extending much farther north than the Victoria, it
receives the river from the latter lake, and thus monopolizes the entire
head-waters of the Nile. The Albert is the grand reservoir, while the
Victoria is the eastern source. The parent streams that form these lakes
are from the same origin, and the Kitangule sheds its waters to the
Victoria to be received EVENTUALLY by the Albert, precisely as the
highlands of M'fumbiro and the Blue Mountains pour their northern drainage
DIRECTLY into the Albert Lake.</p>
<p>That many considerable affluents flow into the Albert Lake there is no
doubt. The two waterfalls seen by telescope upon the western shore
descending from the Blue Mountains must be most important streams, or they
could not have been distinguished at so great a distance as fifty or sixty
miles. The natives assured me that very many streams, varying in size,
descended the mountains upon all sides into the general reservoir.</p>
<p>It was most important that we should hurry forward on our journey, as our
return to England depended entirely upon the possibility of reaching
Gondokoro before the end of April, otherwise the boats would have
departed. I started off Rabonga, to Magungo, where he was to meet us with
riding oxen.</p>
<p>We were encamped at a small village on the shore of the lake, called
Vacovia. On the following morning not one of our party could rise from the
ground. Thirteen men, the boy Saat, four women, besides my wife and me,
were all down with fever. The natives assured us that all strangers
suffered in a like manner. The delay in supplying boats was most annoying,
as every hour was precious. The lying natives deceived us in every
possible manner, delaying us purposely in hope of extorting beads.</p>
<p>The latitude of Vacovia was 1 deg. 15' N.; longitude 30 deg. 50' E. My
farthest southern point on the road from M'rooli was latitude 1 deg. 13'.
We were now to turn our faces toward the north, and every day's journey
would bring us nearer home. But where was home? As I looked at the map of
the world, and at the little red spot that represented old England far,
far away, and then gazed on the wasted form and haggard face of my wife
and at my own attenuated frame, I hardly dared hope for home again. We had
now been three years ever toiling onward, and having completed the
exploration of all the Abyssinian affluents of the Nile, in itself an
arduous undertaking, we were now actually at the Nile head. We had neither
health nor supplies, and the great journey lay all before us.</p>
<p>Eight days were passed at Vacovia before we could obtain boats, which,
when they did come, proved to be mere trees neatly hollowed out in the
shape of canoes. At last we were under way, and day after day we journeyed
along the shore of the lake, stopping occasionally at small villages, and
being delayed now and then by deserting boatmen.</p>
<p>The discomforts of this lake voyage were great; in the day we were cramped
in our small cabin like two tortoises in one shell, and at night it almost
invariably rained. We were accustomed to the wet, but no acclimatization
can render the European body mosquito-proof; thus we had little rest. It
was hard work for me; but for my unfortunate wife, who had hardly
recovered from her attack of coup de soleil, such hardships were most
distressing.</p>
<p>On the thirteenth day from Vacovia we found ourselves at the end of our
lake voyage. The lake at this point was between fifteen and twenty miles
across, and the appearance of the country to the north was that of a
delta. The shores upon either side were choked with vast banks of reeds,
and as the canoe skirted the edge of that upon the east coast we could
find no bottom with a bamboo of twenty-five feet in length, although the
floating mass appeared like terra firma. We were in a perfect wilderness
of vegetation. On the west were mountains about 4000 feet above the lake
level, a continuation of the chain that formed the western shore from the
south. These mountains decreased in height toward the north, in which
direction the lake terminated in a broad valley of reeds.</p>
<p>We were informed that we had arrived at Magungo, and after skirting the
floating reeds for about a mile we entered a broad channel, which we were
told was the embouchure of the Somerset River from Victoria N'yanza. In a
short time we landed at Magungo, where we were welcomed by the chief and
by our guide Rabonga, who had been sent in advance to procure oxen.</p>
<p>The exit of the Nile from the lake was plain enough, and if the broad
channel of dead water were indeed the entrance of the Victoria Nile
(Somerset), the information obtained by Speke would be remarkably
confirmed. But although the chief of Magungo and all the natives assured
me that the broad channel of dead water at my feet was positively the
brawling river that I had crossed below the Karuma Falls, I could not
understand how so fine a body of water as that had appeared could possibly
enter the Albert Lake as dead water. The guide and natives laughed at my
unbelief, and declared that it was dead water for a considerable distance
from the junction with the lake, but that a great waterfall rushed down
from a mountain, and that beyond that fall the river was merely a
succession of cataracts throughout the entire distance of about six days'
march to Karuma Falls. My real wish was to descend the Nile in canoes from
its exit from the lake with my own men as boatmen, and thus in a short
time to reach the cataracts in the Madi country; there to forsake the
canoes and all my baggage, and to march direct to Gondokoro with only our
guns and ammunition. I knew from native report that the Nile was navigable
as far as the Madi country to about Miani's tree, which Speke had laid
down by astronomical observation in lat. 3 "degrees" 34'. This would be
only seven days' march from Gondokoro, and by such a direct course I
should be sure to arrive in time for the boats to Khartoum.</p>
<p>I had promised Speke that I would explore most thoroughly the doubtful
portion of the river that he had been forced to neglect from Karuma Falls
to the lake. I was myself confused at the dead-water junction; and
although I knew that the natives must be right—as it was their own
river, and they had no inducement to mislead me—I was determined to
sacrifice every other wish in order to fulfil my promise, and thus to
settle the Nile question most absolutely. That the Nile flowed out of the
lake I had heard, and I had also confirmed by actual inspection; from
Magungo I looked upon the two countries, Koshi and Madi, through which it
flowed, and these countries I must actually pass through and again meet
the Nile before I could reach Gondokoro. Thus the only point necessary to
settle was the river between the lake and the Karuma Falls.</p>
<p>The boats being ready, we took leave of the chief of Magungo, leaving him
an acceptable present of beads, and descended the hill to the river,
thankful at having so far successfully terminated the expedition as to
have traced the lake to that important point, Magungo, which had been our
clew to the discovery even so far away in time and place as the distant
country of Latooka. We were both very weak and ill, and my knees trembled
beneath me as we walked down the easy descent. I, in my enervated state,
endeavoring to assist my wife, we were the "blind leading the blind;" but
had life closed on that day we could have died most happily, for the hard
fight through sickness and misery had ended in victory; and although I
looked to home as a paradise never to be regained, I could have lain down
to sleep in contentment on this spot, with the consolation that, if the
body had been vanquished, we died with the prize in our grasp.</p>
<p>On arrival at the canoes we found everything in readiness, and the boatmen
already in their places. Once in the broad channel of dead water we
steered due east, and made rapid way until the evening. The river as it
now appeared, although devoid of current, was on an average about 500
yards in width. Before we halted for the night I was subjected to a most
severe attack of fever, and upon the boat reaching a certain spot I was
carried on a litter, perfectly unconscious, to a village, attended
carefully by my poor sick wife, who, herself half dead, followed me on
foot through the marches in pitch darkness, and watched over me until the
morning. At daybreak I was too weak to stand, and we were both carried
down to the canoes, and crawling helplessly within our grass awning we lay
down like logs while the canoes continued their voyage. Many of our men
were also suffering from fever. The malaria of the dense masses of
floating vegetation was most poisonous, and upon looking back to the canoe
that followed in our wake I observed all my men sitting crouched together
sick and dispirited, looking like departed spirits being ferried across
the melancholy Styx.</p>
<p>The woman Bacheeta knew the country, as she had formerly been to Magungo
when in the service of Sali, who had been subsequently murdered by
Kamrasi. She informed me on the second day that we should terminate our
canoe voyage on that day, as we should arrive at the great waterfall of
which she had often spoken. As we proceeded the river gradually narrowed
to about 180 yards, and when the paddles ceased working we could
distinctly hear the roar of water. I had heard this on waking in the
morning, but at the time I had imagined it to proceed from distant
thunder. By ten o'clock the current had so increased as we proceeded that
it was distinctly perceptible, although weak. The roar of the waterfall
was extremely loud, and after sharp pulling for a couple of hours, during
which time the stream increased, we arrived at a few deserted
fishing-huts, at a point where the river made a slight turn. I never saw
such an extraordinary show of crocodiles as were exposed on every sandbank
on the sides of the river. They lay like logs of timber close together,
and upon one bank we counted twenty-seven of large size. Every basking
place was crowded in a similar manner. From the time we had fairly entered
the river it had been confined by heights somewhat precipitous on either
side, rising to about 180 feet. At this point the cliffs were still higher
and exceedingly abrupt. From the roar of the water I was sure that the
fall would be in sight if we turned the corner at the bend of the river;
accordingly I ordered the boatmen to row as far as they could. To this
they at first objected, as they wished to stop at the deserted fishing
village, which they explained was to be the limit of the journey, further
progress being impossible.</p>
<p>However, I explained that I merely wished to see the falls, and they rowed
immediately up the stream, which was now strong against us. Upon rounding
the corner a magnificent sight burst suddenly upon us. On either side the
river were beautifully wooded cliffs rising abruptly to a height of about
300 feet; rocks were jutting out from the intensely green foliage; and
rushing through a gap that cleft the rock exactly before us, the river,
contracted from a grand stream, was pent up in a narrow gorge of scarcely
fifty yards in width. Roaring furiously through the rock-bound pass, it
plunged in one leap of about 120 feet perpendicular into a dark abyss
below.</p>
<p>The fall of water was snow-white, which had a superb effect as it
contrasted with the dark cliffs that walled the river, while the graceful
palms of the tropics and wild plantains perfected the beauty of the view.
This was the greatest waterfall of the Nile, and in honor of the
distinguished President of the Royal Geographical Society I named it the
Murchison Falls, as the most important object throughout the entire course
of the river.</p>
<p>At this point we had ordered our oxen to be sent, as we could go no
farther in the canoes. We found the oxen ready for us; but if we looked
wretched, the animals were a match. They had been bitten by the flies,
thousands of which were at this spot. Their coats were staring, ears
drooping, noses running, and heads hanging down—all the symptoms of
fly-bite, together with extreme looseness of the bowels. I saw that it was
all up with our animals. Weak as I was myself, I was obliged to walk, as
my ox could not carry me up the steep inclination. I toiled languidly to
the summit of the cliff, and we were soon above the falls, and arrived at
a small village a little before evening.</p>
<p>On the following morning we started, the route as before being parallel to
the river, and so close that the roar of the rapids was extremely loud.
The river flowed in a deep ravine upon our left. We continued for a day's
march along the Somerset, crossing many ravines and torrents, until we
turned suddenly down to the left, and arriving at the bank we were to be
transported to an island called Patooan, that was the residence of a
chief. It was about an hour after sunset, and, being dark, my riding ox,
which was being driven as too weak to carry me, fell into an elephant
pitfall. After much hallooing, a canoe was brought from the island, which
was not more than fifty yards from the mainland, and we were ferried
across. We were both very ill with a sudden attack of fever; and my wife,
not being able to stand, was, on arrival at the island, carried on a
litter I knew not whither, escorted by some of my men, while I lay down on
the wet ground quite exhausted with the annihilating disease. At length
the rest of my men crossed over, and those who had carried my wife to the
village returning with firebrands, I managed to creep after them with the
aid of a long stick, upon which I rested with both hands. After a walk
through a forest of high trees for about a quarter of a mile, I arrived at
a village where I was shown a wretched hut, the stars being visible
through the roof. In this my wife lay dreadfully ill upon her angarep, and
I fell down upon some straw. About an hour later a violent thunderstorm
broke over us, and our hut was perfectly flooded. Being far too ill and
helpless to move from our positions, we remained dripping wet and
shivering with fever until the morning. Our servants and people had, like
all native, made themselves much more comfortable than their employers;
nor did they attempt to interfere with our misery in any way until
summoned to appear at sunrise.</p>
<p>The island of Patooan was about half a mile long by 150 yards wide, and
was one of the numerous masses of rocks that choke the river between
Karuma Falls and the great Murchison cataract. My headman now informed me
that war was raging between Kamrasi and his rivals, Fowooka and Rionga,
and it would be impossible to proceed along the bank of the river to
Karuma. My exploration was finished, however, as it was by no means
necessary to continue the route from Patooan to Karuma.</p>
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<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XXII. </h2>
<p>Prisoners on the island—Left to starve—Months of helplessness—We
rejoin the Turks—The real Kamrasi—In the presence of royalty.</p>
<p>We were prisoners on the island of Patooan as we could not procure porters
at any price to remove our effects. We had lost all our riding oxen within
a few days. They had succumbed to the flies, and the only animal alive was
already half dead; this was the little bull that had always carried the
boy Saat. It was the 8th of April, and within a few days the boats upon
which we depended for our return to civilization would assuredly quit
Gondokoro. I offered the natives all the beads that I had (about 50 lbs.)
and the whole of my baggage, if they would carry us to Shooa directly from
this spot. We were in perfect despair, as we were both completely worn out
with fever and fatigue, and certain death seemed to stare us in the face
should we remain in this unhealthy spot. Worse than death was the idea of
losing the boats and becoming prisoners for another year in this dreadful
land, which must inevitably happen should we not hurry directly to
Gondokoro without delay. The natives with their usual cunning at length
offered to convey us to Shooa, provided that I paid them the beads in
advance. The boats were prepared to ferry us across the river; but I
fortunately discovered through the woman Bacheeta their treacherous
intention of placing us on the uninhabited wilderness on the north side,
and leaving us to die of hunger. They had conspired together to land us,
but to return immediately with the boats after having thus got rid of the
incubus of their guests.</p>
<p>We were in a great dilemma. Had we been in good health, I would have
forsaken everything but the guns and ammunition, and have marched directly
to Gondokoro on foot; but this was utterly impossible. Neither my wife nor
I could walk a quarter of a mile without fainting. There was no guide, and
the country was now overgrown with impenetrable grass and tangled
vegetation eight feet high. We were in the midst of the rainy season—not
a day passed without a few hours of deluge. Altogether it was a most
heart-breaking position. Added to the distress of mind at being thus
thwarted, there was also a great scarcity of provision. Many of my men
were weak, the whole party having suffered much from fever; in fact, we
were completely helpless.</p>
<p>Our guide, Rabonga, who had accompanied us from M'rooli, had absconded,
and we were left to shift for ourselves. I was determined not to remain on
the island, as I suspected that the boats might be taken away, and that we
should be kept prisoners; I therefore ordered my men to take the canoes,
and to ferry us to the main land, from whence we had come. The headman,
upon hearing this order, offered to carry us to a village, and then to
await orders from Kamrasi as to whether we were to be forwarded to Shooa
or not. The district in which the island of Patooan was situated was
called Shooa Moru, although having no connection with the Shooa in the
Madi country to which we were bound.</p>
<p>We were ferried across to the main shore, and my wife and I, in our
respective angareps, were carried by the natives for about three miles.
Arriving at a deserted village, half of which was in ashes, having been
burned and plundered by the enemy, we were deposited on the ground in
front of an old hut in the pouring rain, and were informed that we should
remain there that night, but that on the following morning we should
proceed to our destination.</p>
<p>Not trusting the natives, I ordered my men to disarm them, and to retain
their spears and shields as security for their appearance on the following
day. This effected, we were carried into a filthy hut about six inches
deep in mud, as the roof was much out of repair, and the heavy rain had
flooded it daily for some weeks. I had a canal cut through the muddy
floor, and in misery and low spirits we took possession.</p>
<p>On the following morning not a native was present! We had been entirely
deserted; although I held the spears and shields, every man had absconded.
There were neither inhabitants nor provisions. The whole country was a
wilderness of rank grass that hemmed us in on all sides. Not an animal,
nor even a bird, was to be seen; it was a miserable, damp, lifeless
country. We were on elevated ground, and the valley of the Somerset was
about two miles to our north, the river roaring sullenly in its obstructed
passage, its course marked by the double belt of huge dark trees that grew
upon its banks.</p>
<p>My men naturally felt outraged and proposed that we should return to
Patooan, seize the canoes, and take provisions by force, as we had been
disgracefully deceived. The natives had merely deposited us here to get us
out of the way, and in this spot we might starve. Of course I would not
countenance the proposal of seizing provisions, but I directed my men to
search among the ruined villages for buried corn, in company with the
woman Bacheeta, who, being a native of this country, would be up to the
ways of the people, and might assist in the discovery.</p>
<p>After some hours passed in rambling over the black ashes of several
villages that had been burned, they discovered a hollow place, by sounding
the earth with a stick, and, upon digging, arrived at a granary of the
seed known as "tullaboon;" this was a great prize, as, although mouldy and
bitter, it would keep us from starving. The women of the party were soon
hard at work grinding, as many of the necessary stones had been found
among the ruins.</p>
<p>Fortunately there were three varieties of plants growing wild in great
profusion, that, when boiled, were a good substitute for spinach; thus we
were rich in vegetables, although without a morsel of fat or animal food.
Our dinner consisted daily of a mess of black porridge of bitter mouldy
flour that no English pig would condescend to notice, and a large dish of
spinach. "Better a dinner of herbs where love is," etc. often occurred to
me; but I am not sure that I was quite of that opinion after a fortnight's
grazing upon spinach.</p>
<p>Tea and coffee were things of the past, the very idea of which made our
months water; but I found a species of wild thyme growing in the jungles,
and this when boiled formed a tolerable substitute for tea. Sometimes our
men procured a little wild honey, which added to the thyme tea we
considered a great luxury.</p>
<p>This wretched fare, in our exhausted state from fever and general effects
of climate, so completely disabled us that for nearly two months my wife
lay helpless on one angarep, and I upon the other. Neither of us could
walk. The hut was like all in Kamrasi's country, with a perfect forest of
thick poles to support the roof (I counted thirty-two); thus, although it
was tolerably large, there was but little accommodation. These poles we
now found very convenient, as we were so weak that we could not rise from
bed without lifting ourselves up by one of the supports.</p>
<p>We were very nearly dead, and our amusement was a childish conversation
about the good things in England, and my idea of perfect happiness was an
English beefsteak and a bottle of pale ale; for such a luxury I would most
willingly have sold my birthright at that hungry moment. We were perfect
skeletons, and it was annoying to see how we suffered upon the bad fare,
while our men apparently throve. There were plenty of wild red peppers,
and the men seemed to enjoy a mixture of porridge and legumes a la sauce
piquante. They were astonished at my falling away on this food, but they
yielded to my argument when I suggested that a "lion would starve where a
donkey grew fat." I must confess that this state of existence did not
improve my temper, which, I fear, became nearly as bitter as the porridge.
My people had a windfall of luck, as Saat's ox, that had lingered for a
long time, lay down to die, and stretching himself out, commenced kicking
his last kick. The men immediately assisted him by cutting his throat, and
this supply of beef was a luxury which, even in my hungry state, was not
the English beefsteak for which I sighed, and I declined the diseased
bull.</p>
<p>The men made several long excursions through the country to purchase
provisions, but in two months they procured only two kids; the entire
country was deserted, owing to the war between Kamrasi and Fowooka. Every
day the boy Saat and the woman Bacheeta sallied out and conversed with the
inhabitants of the different islands on the river. Sometimes, but very
rarely, they returned with a fowl; such an event caused great rejoicing.</p>
<p>We gave up all hope of Gondokoro, and were resigned to our fate. This, we
felt sure, was to be buried in Chopi, the name of our village. I wrote
instructions in my journal, in case of death, and told my headman to be
sure to deliver my maps, observations, and papers to the English Consul at
Khartoum. This was my only care, as I feared that all my labor might be
lost should I die. I had no fear for my wife, as she was quite as bad as
I, and if one should die the other would certainly follow; in fact, this
had been agreed upon, lest she should fall into the hands of Kamrasi at my
death. We had struggled to win, and I thanked God that we had won. If
death were to be the price, at all events we were at the goal, and we both
looked upon death rather as a pleasure, as affording REST. There would be
no more suffering, no fever, no long journey before us, that in our weak
state was an infliction. The only wish was to lay down the burden. Curious
is the warfare between the animal instincts and the mind! Death would have
been a release that I would have courted; but I should have liked that one
"English beefsteak and pale ale" before I died!</p>
<p>During our misery of constant fever and starvation at Shooa Moru, insult
had been added to injury. There was no doubt that we had been thus
deserted by Kamrasi's orders, as every seven or eight days one of his
chiefs arrived and told me that the king was with his army only four days'
march from me, and that he was preparing to attack Fowooka, but that he
wished me to join him, as with my fourteen guns, we should win a great
victory. This treacherous conduct, after his promise to forward me without
delay to Shooa, enraged me exceedingly. We had lost the boats at
Gondokoro, and we were now nailed to the country for another year, should
we live, which was not likely. Not only had the brutal king thus deceived
us, but he was deliberately starving us into conditions, his aim being
that my men should assist him against his enemy. At one time the old enemy
tempted me sorely to join Fowooka against Kamrasi; but, discarding the
idea, generated in a moment of passion, I determined to resist his
proposals to the last. It was perfectly true that the king was within
thirty miles of us, that he was aware of our misery, and made use of our
extremity to force us to become his allies.</p>
<p>After more than two months passed in this distress it became evident that
something must be done. I sent my headman, or vakeel, and one man, with a
native as a guide (that Saat and Bacheeta had procured from an island),
with instructions to go direct to Kamrasi, to abuse him thoroughly in my
name for having thus treated us, and tell him that I was much insulted at
his treating with me through a third party in proposing an alliance. My
vakeel was to explain that I was a much more powerful chief than Kamrasi,
and that if he required my alliance, he must treat with me in person, and
immediately send fifty men to transport my wife, myself, and effects to
his camp, where we might, in a personal interview, come to terms.</p>
<p>I told my vakeel to return to me with the fifty men, and to be sure to
bring from Kamrasi some token by which I should know that he had actually
seen him. The vakeel and Yaseen started.</p>
<p>After some days the absconded guide, Rabonga, appeared with a number of
men, but without either my vakeel or Yaseen. He carried with him a small
gourd bottle, carefully stopped; this he broke, and extracted from the
inside two pieces of printed paper that Kamrasi had sent to me in reply.</p>
<p>On examining the papers, I found them to be portions of the English Church
Service translated into (I think) the "Kisuabili" language, by Dr Krapf!
There were many notes in pencil on the margin, written in English, as
translations of words in the text. It quickly occurred to me that Speke
must have given this book to Kamrasi on his arrival from Zanzibar, and
that he now extracted the leaves and sent them to me as a token I had
demanded to show that my message had been delivered to him.</p>
<p>Rabonga made a lame excuse for his previous desertion. He delivered a thin
ox that Kamrasi had sent me, and he declared that his orders were that he
should take my whole party immediately to Kamrasi, as he was anxious that
we should attack Fowooka without loss of time. We were positively to start
on the following morning! My bait had taken, and we should escape from
this frightful spot, Shooa Moru.</p>
<p>After winding through dense jungles of bamboos and interminable groves of
destroyed plantains, we perceived the tops of a number of grass hats
appearing among the trees. My men now begged to be allowed to fire a
salute, as it was reported that the ten men of Ibrahim's party who had
been left as hostages were quartered at this village with Kamrasi. Hardly
had the firing commenced when it was immediately replied to by the Turks
from their camp, who, upon our approach, came out to meet us with great
manifestations of delight and wonder at our having accomplished our long
and difficult voyage.</p>
<p>My vakeel and Yaseen were the first to meet us, with an apology that
severe fever had compelled them to remain in camp instead of returning to
Shooa Moru according to my orders; but they had delivered my message to
Kamrasi, who had, as I had supposed, sent two leaves out of a book Speke
had given him, as a reply. An immense amount of news had to be exchanged
between my men and those of Ibrahim. They had quite given us up for lost,
until they heard that we were at Shooa Moru. A report had reached them
that my wife was dead, and that I had died a few days later. A great
amount of kissing and embracing took place, Arab fashion, between the two
parties; and they all came to kiss my hand and that of my wife, with the
exclamation, that "By Allah, no woman in the world had a heart so tough as
to dare to face what she had gone through." "El hamd el Illah! El hamd el
Illah bel salaam!" ("Thank God—be grateful to God") was exclaimed on
all sides by the swarthy throng of brigands who pressed round us, really
glad to welcome us back again; and I could not help thinking of the
difference in their manner now and fourteen months before, when they had
attempted to drive us back from Gondokoro.</p>
<p>Hardly were we seated in our hut when my vakeel announced that Kamrasi had
arrived to pay me a visit. In a few minutes he was ushered into the hut.
Far from being abashed, he entered with a loud laugh, totally different
from his former dignified manner. "Well, here you are at last!" he
exclaimed. Apparently highly amused with our wretched appearance, he
continued, "So you have been to the M'wootan N'zige! Well, you don't look
much the better for it; why, I should not have known you! ha, ha, ha!" I
was not in a humor to enjoy his attempts at facetiousness; I therefore
told him that he had behaved disgracefully and meanly, and that I should
publish his character among the adjoining tribes as below that of the most
petty chief that I had ever seen.</p>
<p>"Never mind," he replied, "it's all over now. You really are thin, both of
you. It was your own fault; why did you not agree to fight Fowooka? You
should have been supplied with fat cows and milk and butter, had you
behaved well. I will have my men ready to attack Fowooka to-morrow. The
Turks have ten men, you have thirteen; thirteen and ten make twenty-three.
You shall be carried if you can't walk, and we will give Fowooka no
chance. He must be killed—only kill him, and MY BROTHER will give
you half of his kingdom."</p>
<p>He continued, "You shall have supplies to-morrow; I will go to my BROTHER,
who is the great M'Kamma Kamrasi, and he will send you all you require. I
am a little man; he is a big one. I have nothing; he has everything, and
he longs to see you. You must go to him directly; he lives close by."</p>
<p>I hardly knew whether he was drunk or sober. "My bother the great M'Kamma
Kamrasi!" I felt bewildered with astonishment. Then, "If you are not
Kamrasi, pray who are you?" I asked. "Who am I?" he replied. "Ha, ha, ha!
that's very good; who am I?—I am M'Gambi, the brother of Kamrasi; I
am the younger brother, but HE IS THE KING."</p>
<p>The deceit of this country was incredible. I had positively never seen the
real Kamrasi up to this moment, and this man M'Gambi now confessed to
having impersonated the king, his brother, as Kamrasi was afraid that I
might be in league with Debono's people to murder him, and therefore he
had ordered his brother M'Gambi to act the king.</p>
<p>I told M'Gambi that I did not wish to see his brother, the king, as I
should perhaps be again deceived and be introduced to some impostor like
himself; and that as I did not choose to be made a fool of, I should
decline the introduction. This distressed him exceedingly. He said that
the king was really so great a man that he, his own brother, dared not sit
on a stool in his presence, and that he had only kept in retirement as a
matter of precaution, as Debono's people had allied themselves with his
enemy Rionga in the preceding year, and he dreaded treachery. I laughed
contemptuously at M'Gambi, telling him that if a woman like my wife dared
to trust herself far from her own country among such savages as Kamrasi's
people, their king must be weaker than a woman if he dared not show
himself in his own territory. I concluded by saying that I should not go
to see Kamrasi, but that he should come to visit me.</p>
<p>On the following morning, after my arrival at Kisoona, M'Gambi appeared,
beseeching me to go and visit the king. I replied that "I was hungry and
weak from want of food, and that I wanted to see meat, and not the man who
had starved me." In the afternoon a beautiful cow appeared with her young
calf, also a fat sheep and two pots of plantain cider, as a present from
Kamrasi. That evening we revelled in milk, a luxury that we had not tasted
for some months. The cow gave such a quantity that we looked forward to
the establishment of a dairy, and already contemplated cheese-making. I
sent the king a present of a pound of powder in canister, a box of caps,
and a variety of trifles, explaining that I was quite out of stores and
presents, as I had been kept so long in his country that I was reduced to
beggary, as I had expected to return to my own country long before this.</p>
<p>In the evening M'Gambi appeared with a message from the king, saying that
I was his greatest friend, and that he would not think of taking anything
from me as he was sure that I must be hard up; that he desired nothing,
but would be much obliged if I would give him the "little double rifle
that I always carried, and my watch and compass!" He wanted "NOTHING,"
only my Fletcher rifle, that I would as soon have parted with as the bone
of my arm; and these three articles were the same for which I had been so
pertinaciously bored before my departure from M'rooli. It was of no use to
be wroth, I therefore quietly replied that I should not give them, as
Kamrasi had failed in his promise to forward me to Shooa; but that I
required no presents from him, as he always expected a thousandfold in
return. M'Gambi said that all would be right if I would only agree to pay
the king a visit. I objected to this, as I told him the king, his brother,
did not want to see me, but only to observe what I had, in order to beg
for all that he saw. He appeared much hurt, and assured me that he would
be himself responsible that nothing of the kind should happen, and that he
merely begged as a favor that I would visit the king on the following
morning, and that people should be ready to carry me if I were unable to
walk. Accordingly I arranged to be carried to Kamrasi's camp at about 8
A.M.</p>
<p>At the hour appointed M'Gambi appeared, with a great crowd of natives. My
clothes were in rags, and as personal appearance has a certain effect,
even in Central Africa, I determined to present myself to the king in as
favorable a light as possible. I happened to possess a full-dress Highland
suit that I had worn when I lived in Perthshire many years before. This I
had treasured as serviceable upon an occasion like the present:
accordingly I was quickly attired in kilt, sporran, and Glengarry bonnet,
and to the utter amazement of the crowd, the ragged-looking object that
had arrived in Kisoona now issued from the obscure hut with plaid and kilt
of Athole tartan. A general shout of exclamation arose from the assembled
crowd, and taking my seat upon an angarep, I was immediately shouldered by
a number of men, and, attended by ten of my people as escort, I was
carried toward the camp of the great Kamrasi.</p>
<p>In about half an hour we arrived. The camp, composed of grass huts,
extended over a large extent of ground, and the approach was perfectly
black with the throng that crowded to meet me. Women, children, dogs, and
men all thronged at the entrance of the street that led to Kamrasi's
residence. Pushing our way through this inquisitive multitude, we
continued through the camp until at length we reached the dwelling of the
king. Halting for the moment, a message was immediately received that we
should proceed; we accordingly entered through a narrow passage between
high reed fences, and I found myself in the presence of the actual king of
Unyoro, Kamrasi. He was sitting in a kind of porch in front of a hut, and
upon seeing me he hardly condescended to look at me for more than a
moment; he then turned to his attendants and made some remark that
appeared to amuse them, as they all grinned as little men are wont to do
when a great man makes a bad joke.</p>
<p>I had ordered one of my men to carry my stool; I was determined not to sit
upon the earth, as the king would glory in my humiliation. M'Gambi, his
brother, who had formerly played the part of king, now sat upon the ground
a few feet from Kamrasi, who was seated upon the same stool of copper that
M'Gambi had used when I first saw him at M'rooli. Several of his chiefs
also sat upon the straw with which the porch was littered. I made a
"salaam" and took my seat upon my stool.</p>
<p>Not a word passed between us for about five minutes, during which time the
king eyed me most attentively, and made various remarks to the chiefs who
were present. At length he asked me why I had not been to see him before.
I replied, because I had been starved in his country, and I was too weak
to walk. He said I should soon be strong, as he would now give me a good
supply of food; but that he could not send provisions to Shooa Moru, as
Fowooka held that country. Without replying to this wretched excuse for
his neglect, I merely told him that I was happy to have seen him before my
departure, as I was not aware until recently that I had been duped by
M'Gambi. He answered me very coolly, saying that although I had not seen
him, he had nevertheless seen me, as he was among the crowd of native
escort on the day that we left M'rooli. Thus he had watched our start at
the very place where his brother M'Gambi had impersonated the king.</p>
<p>Kamrasi was a remarkably fine man, tall and well proportioned, with a
handsome face of a dark brown color, but a peculiarly sinister expression.
He was beautifully clean, and instead of wearing the bark cloth common
among the people, he was dressed in a fine mantle of black and white
goatskins, as soft as chamois leather. His people sat on the ground at
some distance from his throne; when they approached to address him on any
subject they crawled upon their hands and knees to his feet, and touched
the ground with their foreheads.</p>
<p>True to his natural instincts, the king commenced begging, and being much
struck with the Highland costume, he demanded it as a proof of friendship,
saying that if I refused I could not be his friend. The watch, compass,
and double Fletcher rifle were asked for in their turn, all of which I
refused to give him. He appeared much annoyed, therefore I presented him
with a pound canister of powder, a box of caps, and a few bullets. He
asked, "What's the use of the ammunition if you won't give me your rifle?"
I explained that I had already given him a gun, and that he had a rifle of
Speke's. Disgusted with his importunity I rose to depart, telling him that
I should not return to visit him, as I did not believe he was the real
Kamrasi I had heard that Kamrasi was a great king, but he was a mere
beggar, and was doubtless an impostor, like M'Gambi. At this he seemed
highly amused, and begged me not to leave so suddenly, as he could not
permit me to depart empty-handed. He then gave certain orders to his
people, and after a little delay two loads of flour arrived, together with
a goat and two jars of sour plantain cider. These presents he ordered to
be forwarded to Kisoona. I rose to take leave; but the crowd, eager to see
what was going forward, pressed closely upon the entrance of the approach,
seeing which, the king gave certain orders, and immediately four or five
men with long heavy bludgeons rushed at the mob and belabored them right
and left, putting the mass to flight pell-mell through the narrow lanes of
the camp.</p>
<p>I was then carried back to my camp at Kisoona, where I was received by a
great crowd of people.</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XXIII. </h2>
<p>The hour of deliverance—Triumphal entry into Gondokoro—Home-bound—The
plague breaks out—Our welcome at Khartoum to civilization.</p>
<p>The hour of deliverance from our long sojourn in Central Africa was at
hand. It was the month of February, and the boats would be at Gondokoro.
The Turks had packed their ivory; the large tusks were fastened to poles
to be carried by two men, and the camp was a perfect mass of this valuable
material. I counted 609 loads of upward of 50 lbs. each; thirty-one loads
were lying at an out-station; therefore the total results of the ivory
campaign during the last twelve months were about 32,000 lbs., equal to
about 9,630 pounds sterling when delivered in Egypt. This was a perfect
fortune for Koorshid.</p>
<p>We were ready to start. My baggage was so unimportant that I was prepared
to forsake everything, and to march straight for Gondokoro independently
with my own men; but this the Turks assured me was impracticable, as the
country was so hostile in advance that we must of necessity have some
fighting on the road; the Bari tribe would dispute our right to pass
through their territory.</p>
<p>The day arrived for our departure; the oxen were saddled, and we were
ready to start. Crowds of people cane to say "good-by;" but, dispensing
with the hand-kissing of the Turks who were to remain in camp, we prepared
for our journey toward HOME. Far away though it was, every step would
bring us nearer. Nevertheless there were ties even in this wild spot,
where all was savage and unfeeling—ties that were painful to sever,
and that caused a sincere regret to both of us when we saw our little
flock of unfortunate slave children crying at the idea of separation. In
this moral desert, where all humanized feelings were withered and parched
like the sands of the Soudan, the guilelessness of the children had been
welcomed like springs of water, as the only refreshing feature in a land
of sin and darkness.</p>
<p>"Where are you going?" cried poor little Abbai in the broken Arabic that
we had taught him. "Take me with you, Sitty!" (lady), and he followed us
down the path, as we regretfully left our proteges, with his fists tucked
into his eyes, weeping from his heart, although for his own mother he had
not shed a tear. We could not take him with us; he belonged to Ibrahim,
and had I purchased the child to rescue him from his hard lot and to rear
him as a civilized being, I might have been charged with slave-dealing.
With heavy hearts we saw hint taken up in the arms of a woman and carried
back to camp, to prevent him from following our party, that had now
started.</p>
<p>I will not detain the reader with the details of our journey home. After
much toil and some fighting with hostile natives, we bivouacked one sunset
three miles from Gondokoro. That night we were full of speculations. Would
a boat be waiting for us with supplies and letters? The morning anxiously
looked forward to at length arrived. We started. The English flag had been
mounted on a fine straight bamboo with a new lance-head specially arranged
for the arrival at Gondokoro. My men felt proud, as they would march in as
conquerors. According to White Nile ideas, such a journey could not have
been accomplished with so small a party. Long before Ibrahim's men were
ready to start, our oxen were saddled and we were off, longing to hasten
into Gondokoro and to find a comfortable vessel with a few luxuries and
the post from England. Never had the oxen travelled so fast as on that
morning; the flag led the way, and the men, in excellent spirits, followed
at double-quick pace.</p>
<p>"I see the masts of the vessels!" exclaimed the boy Saat. "El hambd el
Illah!" (Thank God! ) shouted the men. "Hurrah!" said I; "Three cheers for
Old England and the Sources of the Nile! Hurrah!" and my men joined me in
the wild, and to their ears savage, English yell. "Now for a salute! Fire
away all your powder, if you like, my lads, and let the people know that
we're alive!"</p>
<p>This was all that was required to complete the happiness of my people,
and, loading and firing as fast as possible, we approached near to
Gondokoro. Presently we saw the Turkish flag emerge from Gondokoro at
about a quarter of a mile distant, followed by a number of the traders'
people, who waited to receive us. On our arrival they immediately
approached and fired salutes with ball cartridge, as usual advancing close
to us and discharging their guns into the ground at our feet. One of my
servants, Mahomet, was riding an ox, and an old friend of his in the crowd
happening to recognize him immediately advanced and saluted him by firing
his gun into the earth directly beneath the belly of the ox he was riding.</p>
<p>The effect produced made the crowd and ourselves explode with laughter.
The nervous ox, terrified at the sudden discharge between his legs, gave a
tremendous kick, and continued madly kicking and plunging, until Mahomet
was pitched over his head and lay sprawling on the ground. This scene
terminated the expedition.</p>
<p>Dismounting from our tired oxen, our first inquiry was concerning boats
and letters. What was the reply? Neither boats, letters, supplies, nor any
intelligence of friends or the civilized world! We had long since been
given up as dead by the inhabitants of Khartoum, and by all those who
understood the difficulties and dangers of the country. We were told that
some people had suggested that we might possibly have gone to Zanzibar,
but the general opinion was that we had all been killed.</p>
<p>At this cold and barren reply I felt almost choked. We had looked forward
to arriving at Gondokoro as to a home; we had expected that a boat would
have been sent on the chance of finding us, as I had left money in the
hands of an agent in Khartoum; but there was literally nothing to receive
us, and we were helpless to return. We had worked for years in misery,
such as I have but faintly described, to overcome the difficulties of this
hitherto unconquerable exploration. We had succeeded—and what was
the result? Not even a letter from home to welcome us if alive!</p>
<p>As I sat beneath a tree and looked down upon the glorious Nile that flowed
a few yards beneath my feet, I pondered upon the value of my toil. I had
traced the river to its great Albert source, and as the mighty stream
glided before me, the mystery that had ever shrouded its origin was
dissolved. I no longer looked upon its waters with a feeling approaching
to awe, for I knew its home, and had visited its cradle. Had I overrated
the importance of the discovery? and had I wasted some of the best years
of my life to obtain a shadow? I recalled to recollection the practical
question of Commoro, the chief of Latooka, "Suppose you get to the great
lake, what will you do with it? What will be the good of it? If you find
that the large river does flow from it, what then?"</p>
<p>At length the happy day came when we were to quit this miserable place of
Gondokoro. The boat was ready to start, we were all on board, and Ibrahim
and his people came to say good-by. Crowds lined the cliff and the high
ground by the old ruins of the mission-station to see us depart. We pushed
off from shore into the powerful current; the English flag, that had
accompanied us all through our wanderings, now fluttered proudly from the
masthead unsullied by defeat, and amidst the rattle of musketry we glided
rapidly down the river and soon lost sight of Gondokoro.</p>
<p>What were our feelings at that moment? Overflowing with gratitude to a
Divine Providence that had supported us in sickness and guided us through
all dangers. There had been moments of hopelessness and despair; days of
misery, when the future had appeared dark and fatal; but we had been
strengthened in our weakness, and led, when apparently lost, by an unseen
hand. I felt no triumph, but with a feeling of calm contentment and
satisfaction we floated down the Nile. My great joy was in the meeting
that I contemplated with Speke in England, as I had so thoroughly
completed the task we had agreed upon.</p>
<p>We had heard at Gondokoro of a remarkable obstruction in the White Nile a
short distance below the junction of the Bahr el Gazal. We found this to
be a dam formed by floating masses of vegetation that effectually blocked
the passage.</p>
<p>The river had suddenly disappeared; there was apparently an end to the
White Nile. The dam was about three-quarters of a mile wide, was perfectly
firm, and was already overgrown with high reeds and grass, thus forming a
continuation of the surrounding country. Many of the traders' people had
died of the plague at this spot during the delay of some weeks in cutting
the canal; the graves of these dead were upon the dam. The bottom of the
canal that had been cut through the dam was perfectly firm, composed of
sand, mud, and interwoven decaying vegetation. The river arrived with
great force at the abrupt edge of the obstruction, bringing with it all
kinds of trash and large floating islands. None of these objects hitched
against the edge, but the instant they struck they dived under and
disappeared. It was in this manner that a vessel had recently been lost.
Having missed the narrow entrance to the canal, she had struck the dam
stem on; the force of the current immediately turned her broadside against
the obstruction, the floating islands and masses of vegetation brought
down by the river were heaped against her and, heeling over on her side,
she was sucked bodily under and carried beneath the dam. Her crew had time
to save themselves by leaping upon the firm barrier that had wrecked their
ship. The boatmen told me that dead hippopotami had been found on the
other side, that had been carried under the dam and drowned.</p>
<p>Two days' hard work from morning till night brought us through the canal,
and we once more found ourselves on the open Nile on the other side of the
dam. The river was in that spot perfectly clean; not a vestige of floating
vegetation could be seen upon its waters. In its subterranean passage it
had passed through a natural sieve, leaving all foreign matter behind to
add to the bulk of the already stupendous work.</p>
<p>All before us was clear and plain sailing. For some days two or three of
our men had been complaining of severe headache, giddiness, and violent
pains in the spine and between the shoulders. I had been anxious when at
Gondokoro concerning the vessel, as many persons while on board had died
of the plague, during the voyage from Khartoum. The men assured me that
the most fatal symptom was violent bleeding from the nose; in such cases
no one had been known to recover. One of the boatmen, who had been ailing
for some days, suddenly went to the side of the vessel and hung his head
over the river; his nose was bleeding!</p>
<p>Another of my men, Yaseen, was ill; his uncle, my vakeel, came to me with
a report that "his nose was bleeding violently!" Several other men fell
ill; they lay helplessly about the deck in low muttering delirium, their
eyes as yellow as orange-peel. In two or three days the vessel was so
horribly offensive as to be unbearable. THE PLAGUE HAD BROKEN OUT! We
floated past the river Sobat junction; the wind was fair from the south,
thus fortunately we in the stern were to windward of the crew. Yaseen
died; he was one who had bled at the nose. We stopped to bury him. The
funeral hastily arranged, we again set sail. Mahommed died; he had bled at
the nose. Another burial. Once more we set sail and hurried down the Nile.
Several men were ill, but the dreaded symptom had not appeared. I had
given each man a strong dose of calomel at the commencement of the
disease; I could do nothing more, as my medicines were exhausted. All
night we could hear the sick muttering and raving in delirium, but from
years of association with disagreeables we had no fear of the infection.</p>
<p>One morning the boy Saat came to me with his head bound up, and complained
of severe pain in the back and limbs, with all the usual symptoms of
plague. In the afternoon I saw him leaning over the ship's side; his nose
was bleeding violently! At night he was delirious. On the following
morning he was raving, and on the vessel stopping to collect firewood he
threw himself into the river to cool the burning fever that consumed him.
His eyes were suffused with blood, which, blended with a yellow as deep as
the yolk of egg, gave a terrible appearance to his face, that was already
so drawn and changed as to be hardly recognized. Poor Saat! the faithful
boy that we had adopted, and who had formed so bright an exception to the
dark character of his race, was now a victim to this horrible disease. He
was a fine strong lad of nearly fifteen, and he now lay helplessly on his
mat, and cast wistful glances at the face of his mistress as she gave him
a cup of cold water mixed with a few lumps of sugar that we had obtained
from the traders at Gondokoro.</p>
<p>Saat grew worse and worse. Nothing would relieve the unfortunate boy from
the burning torture of that frightful disease. He never slept; but night
and day he muttered in delirium, breaking the monotony of his malady by
occasionally howling like a wild animal. Richarn won my heart by his
careful nursing of the boy, who had been his companion through years of
hardship. We arrived at the village of Wat Shely, only three days from
Khartoum. Saat was dying. The night passed, and I expected that all would
be over before sunrise; but as morning dawned a change had taken place;
the burning fever had left him, and, although raised blotches had broken
out upon his chest and various parts of his body, he appeared much better.
We now gave him stimulants; a teaspoonful of araki that we had bought at
Fashooder was administered every ten minutes on a lump of sugar. This he
crunched in his mouth, while he gazed at my wife with an expression of
affection; but he could not speak. I had him well washed and dressed in
clean clothes, that had been kept most carefully during the voyage, to be
worn on our entree to Khartoum. He was laid down to sleep upon a clean
mat, and my wife gave him a lump of sugar to moisten his mouth and relieve
his thickly-furred tongue. His pulse was very weak, and his skin cold.
"Poor Saat," said my wife, "his life hangs upon a thread. We must nurse
him most carefully; should he have a relapse, nothing will save him."</p>
<p>An hour passed, and he slept. Karka, the fat, good-natured slave woman,
quietly went to his side; gently taking him by the ankles and knees, she
stretched his legs into a straight position, and laid his arms parallel
with his sides. She then covered his face with a cloth, one of the few
rags that we still possessed. "Does he sleep still?" we asked. The tears
ran down the cheeks of the savage but good-hearted Karka as she sobbed,
"He is dead!"</p>
<p>We stopped the boat. It was a sandy shore; the banks were high, and a
clump of mimosas grew above high-water mark. It was there that we dug his
grave. My men worked silently and sadly, for all loved Saat. He had been
so good and true, that even their hard hearts had learned to respect his
honesty. We laid him in his grave on the desert shore, beneath the grove
of trees.</p>
<p>Again the sail was set, and, filled by the breeze, it carried us away from
the dreary spot where we had sorrowfully left all that was good and
faithful. It was a happy end—most merciful, as he had been taken
from a land of iniquity in all the purity of a child converted from
Paganism to Christianity. He had lived and died in our service a good
Christian. Our voyage was nearly over, and we looked forward to home and
friends; but we had still fatigues before us: poor Saat had reached his
home and rest.</p>
<p>On the following morning, May 6, 1865, we were welcomed by the entire
European population of Khartoum, to whom are due my warmest thanks for
many kind attentions. We were kindly offered a house by Monsieur
Lombrosio, the manager of the Khartoum branch of the "Oriental and
Egyptian Trading Company."</p>
<p>I now heard the distressing news of the death of my poor friend Speke. I
could not realize the truth of this melancholy report until I read the
details of his fatal accident in the appendix of a French translation of
his work. It was but a sad consolation that I could confirm his
discoveries, and bear witness to the tenacity and perseverance with which
he had led his party through the untrodden path of Africa to the first
Nile source.</p>
<p>While at Khartoum I happened to find Mahommed Iler! the vakeel of
Chenooda's party, who had instigated my men to mutiny at Latooka, and had
taken my deserters into his employ. I had promised to make an example of
this fellow; I therefore had him arrested and brought before the divan.
With extreme effrontery, he denied having had anything to do with the
affair. Having a crowd of witnesses in my own men, and others that I had
found in Khartoum who had belonged to Koorshid's party at that time, his
barefaced lie was exposed, and he was convicted. I determined that he
should be punished, as an example that would insure respect to any future
English traveller in those regions. My men, and all those with whom I had
been connected, had been accustomed to rely most implicitly upon all that
I had promised, and the punishment of this man had been an expressed
determination.</p>
<p>I went to the divan and demanded that he should be flogged. Omer Bey was
then Governor of the Soudan, in the place of Moosa Pacha deceased. He sat
upon the divan, in the large hall of justice by the river. Motioning me to
take a seat by his side, and handing me his pipe, he called the officer in
waiting, and gave the necessary orders. In a few minutes the prisoner was
led into the hall, attended by eight soldiers. One man carried a strong
pole about seven feet long, in the centre of which was a double chain,
riveted through in a loop. The prisoner was immediately thrown down with
his face to the ground, while two men stretched out his arms and sat upon
them. His feet were then placed within the loop of the chain, and the pole
being twisted round until firmly secured, it was raised from the ground
sufficiently to expose the soles of the feet. Two men with powerful
hippopotamus whips stood one on either side. The prisoner thus secured,
the order was given. The whips were most scientifically applied, and after
the first five dozen the slave-hunting scoundrel howled most lustily for
mercy. How often had he flogged unfortunate slave women to excess, and
what murders had that wretch committed, who now howled for mercy! I begged
Omer Bey to stop the punishment at 150 lashes, and to explain to him
publicly in the divan that he was thus punished for attempting to thwart
the expedition of an English traveller, by instigating my escort to
mutiny.</p>
<p>We stayed at Khartoum two months, waiting for the Nile to rise
sufficiently to allow the passage of the cataracts. We started June 30th,
and reached Berber, from which point, four years before, I had set out on
my Atbara expedition.</p>
<p>I determined upon the Red Sea route to Egypt, instead of passing the
horrible Korosko desert during the hot month of August. After some delay I
procured camels, and started east for Souakim, where I hoped to procure a
steamer to Suez.</p>
<p>There was no steamer upon our arrival. After waiting in intense heat for
about a fortnight, the Egyptian thirty-two-gun steam frigate Ibrahimeya
arrived with a regiment of Egyptian troops, under Giaffer Pacha, to quell
the mutiny of the black troops at Kassala, twenty days' march in the
interior. Giaffer Pacha most kindly placed the frigate at our disposal to
convey us to Suez.</p>
<p>Orders for sailing had been received; but suddenly a steamer was signalled
as arriving. This was a transport, with troops. As she was to return
immediately to Suez, I preferred the dirty transport rather than incur a
further delay. We started from Souakim, and after five days' voyage we
arrived at Suez. Landing from the steamer, I once more found myself in an
English hotel.</p>
<p>The hotel was thronged with passengers to India, with rosy, blooming
English ladies and crowds of my own countrymen. I felt inclined to talk to
everybody. Never was I so in love with my own countrymen and women; but
they (I mean the ladies) all had large balls of hair at the backs of their
heads! What an extraordinary change! I called Richarn, my pet savage from
the heart of Africa, to admire them. "Now, Richarn, look at them!" I said.
"What do you think of the English ladies? eh, Richarn? Are they not
lovely?"</p>
<p>"Wah Illahi!" exclaimed the astonished Richarn, "they are beautiful! What
hair! They are not like the negro savages, who work other people's hair
into their own heads; theirs is all real—all their own—how
beautiful!"</p>
<p>"Yes, Richarn," I replied, "ALL THEIR OWN!" This was my first introduction
to the "chignon."</p>
<p>We arrived at Cairo, and I established Richarn and his wife in a
comfortable situation as private servants to Mr. Zech, the master of
Sheppard's Hotel. The character I gave him was one that I trust has done
him service. He had shown an extraordinary amount of moral courage in
totally reforming from his original habit of drinking. I left my old
servant with a heart too full to say good-by, a warm squeeze of his rough
but honest black hand, and the whistle of the train sounded—we were
off!</p>
<p>I had left Richarn, and none remained of my people. The past appeared like
a dream; the rushing sound of the train renewed ideas of civilization. Had
I really come from the Nile Sources? It was no dream. A witness sat before
me—a face still young, but bronzed like an Arab by years of exposure
to a burning sun, haggard and worn with toil and sickness, and shaded with
cares happily now past, the devoted companion of my pilgrimage, to whom I
owed success and life—my wife.</p>
<p>I had received letters from England, that had been waiting at the British
Consulate. The first I opened informed me that the Royal Geographical
Society had awarded me the Victoria Gold Medal, at a time when they were
unaware whether I was alive or dead, and when the success of my expedition
was unknown. This appreciation of my exertions was the warmest welcome
that I could have received on my first entrance into civilization after so
many years of savagedom. It rendered the completion of the Nile Sources
doubly grateful, as I had fulfilled the expectations that the Geographical
Society had so generously expressed by the presentation of their medal
BEFORE my task was done.</p>
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