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

his attention.

 

My horse was lost; my man had never even accompanied me, having lagged

behind at the very commencement of the hunt. I had lost my rifle in the

high grass, as I had been forced to make a short run from the spot

before I knew that the elephant had followed the horse; thus I was

nearly an hour before I found it, and also my azimuth compass that had

fallen from my belt pouch. After much shouting and whistling, my mounted

man arrived, and making him dismount, I rode my little horse Mouse, and

returned to the path. My horse Filfil was lost. As a rule, hunting

during the march should be avoided, and I had now paid dearly for the

indiscretion.

 

I reached the Atabbi river about eighteen miles from Obbo. This is a

fine perennial stream flowing from the Madi mountains towards the west,

forming an affluent of the Asua river. There was a good ford, with a

hard gravel and rocky bottom, over which the horse partly waded and

occasionally swam. There were fresh tracks of immense herds of elephants

with which the country abounded, and I heard them trumpeting in the

distance.

 

Ascending rising ground in perfectly open prairie on the opposite side

of Atabbi, I saw a dense herd of about two hundred elephants—they were

about a mile distant, and were moving slowly through the high grass.

Just as I was riding along the path watching the immense herd, a Tetel

(hartebeest) sprang from the grass in which he had been concealed, and

fortunately he galloped across a small open space, where the high grass

had been destroyed by the elephants. A quick shot from the little

Fletcher 24 rifle doubled him up; but, recovering himself almost

immediately, he was just disappearing when a shot from the left-hand

barrel broke his back, to the intense delight of my people. We

accordingly bivouacked for the night, and the fires were soon blazing

upon a dry plateau of granite rock about seventy feet square that I had

chosen for a resting-place. In the saucer-shaped hollows of the rock was

good clear water from the rain of the preceding day; thus we had all the

luxuries that could be desired—fire, food, and water. I seldom used a

bedstead unless in camp; thus my couch was quickly and simply made upon

the hard rock, softened by the addition of an armful of green boughs,

upon which I laid an untanned ox-hide, and spread my Scotch plaid. My

cap formed my pillow, and my handy little Fletcher rifle lay by my side

beneath the plaid, together with my hunting knife; these faithful

friends were never out of reach either by night or day.

 

The cap was a solid piece of architecture, as may be supposed from its

strength to resist the weight of the head when used as a pillow. It was

made by an Arab woman in Khartoum, according to my own plan; the

substance was about half an inch thick of dome palm leaves very neatly

twisted and sewn together. Having a flat top, and a peak both before and

behind, the whole affair was covered with tanned leather, while a

curtain of the same material protected the back of the neck from the

sun. A strong chin strap secured the cap upon the head, and the “tout

ensemble” formed a very effective roof, completely sun-proof. Many

people might have objected to the weight, but I found it no

disadvantage, and the cap being tolerably waterproof, I packed my

cartouche pouch and belt within it when inverted at night to form a

pillow; this was an exceedingly practical arrangement, as in case of an

alarm I rose from my couch armed, capped and belted, at a moment’s

notice.

 

On the following morning I started at daybreak, and after a march of

about thirteen miles through the same parklike and uninhabited country

as that of the preceding day, I reached the country of Farajoke, and

arrived at the foot of a rocky hill, upon the summit of which was a

large village. I was met by the chief and several of his people leading

a goat, which was presented to me, and killed immediately as an

offering, close to the feet of my horse. The chief carried a fowl,

holding it by the legs, with its head downwards; he approached my horse,

and stroked his fore-feet with the fowl, and then made a circle around

him by dragging it upon the ground; my feet were then stroked with the

fowl in the same manner as those of the horse, and I was requested to

stoop, so as to enable him to wave the bird around my head; this

completed, it was also waved round my horse’s head, who showed his

appreciation of the ceremony by rearing and lashing out behind, to the

great discomfiture of the natives. The fowl did not appear to have

enjoyed itself during the operation; but a knife put an end to its

troubles, as, the ceremony of welcome being completed, the bird was

sacrificed and handed to my headman. I was now conducted to the village.

It was defended by a high bamboo fence, and was miserably dirty, forming

a great contrast to the clean dwellings of the Bari and Latooka tribes.

The hill upon which the village was built was about eighty feet above

the general level of the country, and afforded a fine view of the

surrounding landscape. On the east was the chain of Madi mountains, the

base well wooded, while to the south all was fine open pasturage of

sweet herbage, about a foot high, a totally different grass to the rank

vegetation we had passed through. The country was undulating, and every

rise was crowned by a village. Although the name of the district is

Farajoke, it is comprised in the extensive country of Sooli, together

with the Shoggo and Madi tribes, all towns being under the command of

petty chiefs. The general elevation of the country was 3,966 feet above

the sea-level, 292 feet higher than Obbo.

 

The chief of Farajoke, observing me engaged in taking bearings with the

compass, was anxious to know my object, which being explained, he

volunteered all information respecting the country, and assured me that

it would be quite impossible to cross the Asua during the rainy season,

as it was a violent torrent, rushing over a rocky bed with such

impetuosity, that no one would venture to swim it. There was nothing to

be done at this season, and however trying to the patience, there was no

alternative. Farajoke was within three days’ hard marching of Faloro,

the station of Debono, that had always been my projected headquarters;

thus I was well advanced upon my intended route, and had the season been

propitious, I could have proceeded with my baggage animals without

difficulty.

 

The loss of my horse “Filfil” was a severe blow in this wild region,

where beasts of burthen were unknown, and I had slight hopes of his

recovery, as lions were plentiful in the country between Obbo and

Farajoke; however, I offered a reward of beads and bracelets, and a

number of natives were sent by the chief to scour the jungles. There was

little use in remaining at Farajoke, therefore I returned to Obbo with

my men and donkeys, accomplishing the whole distance (thirty miles) in

one day. I was very anxious about Mrs. Baker, who had been the

representative of the expedition at Obbo during my absence. Upon my

approach through the forest, my well-known whistle was immediately

answered by the appearance of the boy Saat, who, without any greeting,

immediately rushed to the hut to give the intelligence that “Master was

arrived.”

 

I found my wife looking remarkably well, and regularly installed “at

home.” Several fat sheep were tied by the legs to pegs in front of the

hut; a number of fowls were pecking around the entrance, and my wife

awaited me on the threshold with a large pumpkin shell containing about

a gallon of native beer. “Dulce domum,” although but a mud hut, the

loving welcome made it happier than a palace; and that draught of beer,

or fermented mud, or whatever trash it might be compared with in

England, how delicious it seemed after a journey of thirty miles in the

broiling sun! and the fat sheep and the fowls all looked so luxurious.

Alas!—for destiny—my arrival cut short the existence of one being;

what was joy to some was death to a sheep, and in a few moments the

fattest was slain in honour of master’s return, and my men were busily

employed in preparing it for a general feast.

 

Numbers of people gathered round me: foremost among them was the old

chief Katchiba, whose self-satisfied countenance exhibited an extreme

purity of conscience in having adhered to his promise to act as guardian

during my absence. Mrs. Baker gave him an excellent character; he had

taken the greatest care of her, and had supplied all the luxuries that

had so much excited my appetite on the first coup d’oeil of my home. He

had been so mindful of his responsibility, that he had placed some of

his own sons as sentries over the hut both by day and night.

 

I accordingly made him a present of many beads and bracelets, and a few

odds and ends, that threw him into ecstacies: he had weak eyes, and the

most valued present was a pair of sun-goggles, which I fitted on his

head, to his intense delight, and exhibited in a looking-glass—this

being likewise added to his gifts. I noticed that he was very stiff in

the back, and he told me that he had had a bad fall during my absence.

My wife explained the affair. He had come to her to declare his

intention of procuring fowls for her from some distant village; but,

said he, “My people are not very good, and perhaps they will say that

they have none; but if you will lend me a horse, I will ride there, and

the effect will impose upon them so much, that they will not dare to

refuse me.” Now, Katchiba was not a good walker, and his usual way of

travelling was upon the back of a very strong subject, precisely as

children are wont to ride “pic-a-back.” He generally had two or three

spare men, who alternately acted as guides and ponies, while one of his

wives invariably accompanied him, bearing a large jar of beer, with

which it was said that the old chief refreshed himself so copiously

during the journey, that it sometimes became necessary for two men to

carry him instead of one. This may have been merely a scandalous report

in Obbo; however, it appeared that Katchiba was ready for a start, as

usual accompanied by a Hebe with a jar of beer. Confident in his powers

as a rider across country on a man, he considered that he could easily

ride a horse. It was in vain that my wife had protested, and had

prophesied a broken neck should he attempt to bestride the hitherto

unknown animal: to ride he was determined.

 

Accordingly my horse Tetel was brought, and Katchiba was assisted upon

his back. The horse recognising an awkward hand, did not move a step.

“Now then,” said Katchiba, “go on!” but Tetel, not understanding the

Obbo language, was perfectly ignorant of his rider’s wishes. “Why won’t

he go?” inquired Katchiba. “Touch him with your stick,” cried one of my

men; and acting upon the suggestion, the old sorcerer gave him a

tremendous whack with his staff. This was immediately responded to by

Tetel, who, quite unused to such eccentricities, gave a vigorous kick,

the effect of which was to convert the sorcerer into a spread eagle,

flying over