The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile, Samuel White Baker [inspirational novels .TXT] 📗

so

near to a fatal shot! It was one of the black women of the party, who

had crept into the tent for an asylum. Upon striking a light I found

that the woman was streaming with blood, being cut in the most frightful

manner with the coorbatch (whip of hippopotamus’ hide). Hearing the

screams continued at some distance from the tent, I found my angels in

the act of flogging two women; two men were holding each woman upon the

ground by sitting upon her legs and neck, while two men with powerful

whips operated upon each woman alternately. Their backs were cut to

pieces, and they were literally covered with blood. The brutes had taken

upon themselves the task of thus punishing the women for a breach of

discipline in being absent without leave. Fadeela had escaped before her

punishment had been completed, and narrowly escaped being shot by

running to the tent without giving warning. Seizing the coorbatch from

the hands of one of the executioners, I administered them a dose of

their own prescription, to their intense astonishment, as they did not

appear conscious of any outrage;—“they were only slave women.” In all

such expeditions it is necessary to have women belonging to the party to

grind the corn and prepare the food for the men; I had accordingly hired

several from their proprietors at Khartoum, and these had been

maltreated as described.

 

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, I 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.

 

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.

These people were the most extraordinary that I had seen—wearing

beautiful helmets of glass beads, and being remarkably handsome. The

chief of the party, “Adda,” came to my tent, accompanied by a few of his

men. He was one of the finest men I ever saw, and he gave me much

information concerning his country, and begged me to pay him a visit. He

detested the Turks, but he was obliged to serve them, as he had received

orders from the great chief “Commoro” to collect porters, and to

transport their ivory from Latooka to Gondokoro. I took his portrait, to

his great delight, and made him a variety of presents of copper

bracelets, beads, and a red cotton handkerchief; the latter was most

prized, and he insisted upon wearing it upon his person. He had no

intention of wearing his new acquisition for the purpose of decency, but

he carefully folded it so as to form a triangle, and then tied it round

his waist, so that the pointed end should hang exactly straight BEHIND

him. So particular was he, that he was quite half an hour in arranging

this simple appendage; and at length he departed with his people, always

endeavouring to admire his new finery, by straining his neck in his

attempts to look behind him.

 

From morning till night natives of all ranks surrounded the tent to ask

for presents; these being generally granted, as it was highly necessary

to create a favourable impression. Koorshid’s party, who had arrived

from Latooka, 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

grand 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. The vakeel of Chenooda, one

Mahommed Her, was in constant communication with my men, which tended to

confirm the reports I had heard from the boy Saat. This Mahommed Her

started from Gondokoro for Latooka. Koorshid’s men would start two days

later; these were rival parties, both antagonistic, but occupying the

same country, the Latooka; both equally hostile to me, but as the party

of Mahommed Her were Dongolowas, and that of Koorshid were Jalyns and

Soodanes, I trusted eventually to turn their disputes to my own

advantage.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

Once away from Gondokoro we should be fairly launched on our voyage, the

boats would have returned to Khartoum, thus retreat would be cut off; it

only remained to push forward, trusting in Providence and good fortune.

I had great faith in presents. The Arabs are all venal; and, having many

valuable effects with me, I trusted, when the proper moment should

arrive, to be able to overcome all opposition by an open hand. 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.

 

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. The camels were too

heavily loaded, carrying about seven hundred pounds each. The donkeys

were also overloaded, but there was no help for it. Mrs. Baker was well

mounted on my good old Abyssinian hunter “Tetel,” (“Hartebeest”) and

was carrying several leather bags slung to the pommel, while I was

equally loaded on my horse “Filfil;” (“Pepper”) in fact, we were all

carrying as much as we could stow.

 

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.

 

“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. We shook hands warmly with Dr. Murie, who had come

to see us off, and thus we started on our march in Central Africa on the

26th of March, 1863.

 

CHAPTER IV.

 

FIRST NIGHT’S MARCH.

 

THE country was parklike, 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.

 

After a silent march of two hours we saw watch-fires 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.

 

We were roughly challenged by their sentries as we passed, and were

instantly told “not to remain in their neighbourhood.” 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. All were

busy collecting firewood and cutting grass for the donkeys and horses

who were picketed near the fires. The camels were hobbled, and turned to

graze upon the branches of a large mimosa. We were not hungry; the

constant anxiety had entirely destroyed all appetite. A cup of strong

black coffee was the greatest luxury, and not requiring a tent in the

clear still night, we were soon asleep on our simple angareps. Before

daylight on the following morning the drum beat; the lazy soldiers,

after stretching and yawning, began to load the animals, and we started

at six o’clock. In these climates the rising of the sun is always

dreaded. For about an hour before sunrise the air is deliciously cool

and invigorating, but the sun is regarded as the common enemy. There is,

nevertheless, a difficulty in starting before sunrise-the animals cannot

be properly loaded in the darkness, and the operation being tedious, the

cool hour of morning is always lost. The morning was clear, and the

mountain of Belignan, within three or four