The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile, Samuel White Baker [inspirational novels .TXT] 📗
- Author: Samuel White Baker
- Performer: -
Book online «The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile, Samuel White Baker [inspirational novels .TXT] 📗». Author Samuel White Baker
commencement of the hunt, and the horse pressed along at his best pace;
it must be a race at top speed from the start, but, should the giraffe
be allowed the slightest advantage for the first five minutes, the race
will be against the horse.
I was riding “Filfil,” my best horse for speed, but utterly useless for
the gun. I had a common regulation-sword hanging on my saddle in lieu of
the long Arab broadsword that I had lost at Obbo, and starting at full
gallop at the same instant as the giraffes, away we went over the
beautiful park. Unfortunately Richarn was a bad rider, and I, being
encumbered with a rifle, had no power to use the sword. I accordingly
trusted to ride them down and to get a shot, but I felt that the
unsteadiness of my horse would render it very uncertain. The wind
whistled in my ears as we flew along over the open plain. The grass was
not more than a foot high, and the ground hard; the giraffes about four
hundred yards distant steaming along, and raising a cloud of dust from
the dry earth, as on this side of the mountains there had been no rain.
Filfil was a contradiction; he loved a hunt and had no fear of wild
animals, but he went mad at the sound of a gun. Seeing the magnificent
herd of about fifteen giraffes before him, the horse entered into the
excitement and needed no spur—down a slight hollow, flying over the dry
buffalo holes, now over a dry watercourse and up the incline on the
other side—then again on the level, and the dust in my eyes from the
cloud raised by the giraffes showed that we were gaining in the race;
misericordia!—low jungle lay before us—the giraffes gained it, and
spurring forward through a perfect cloud of dust now within a hundred
yards of the game we shot through the thorny bushes. In another minute
or two I was close up, and a splendid bull giraffe was crashing before
me like a locomotive obelisk through the mimosas, bending the elastic
boughs before him in his irresistible rush, which sprang back with a
force that would have upset both horse and rider had I not carefully
kept my distance. The jungle seemed alive with the crowd of orange red,
the herd was now on every side, as I pressed the great bull before me.
Oh for an open plain! I was helpless to attack, and it required the
greatest attention to keep up the pace through the thick mimosas without
dashing against their stems and branches. The jungle became thicker, and
although I was in the middle of the herd and within ten yards of several
giraffes, I could do nothing. A mass of thick and tangled thorns now
received them, and closed over the hardly-contested race—I was beaten.
Never mind, it was a good hunt—first-rate—but where was my camp? It
was nearly dark, and I could just distinguish the pass in the distance,
by which we had descended the mountain; thus I knew the direction but I
had ridden about three miles, and it would be dark before I could
return. However, I followed the heel tracks of the herd of giraffes.
Richarn was nowhere. Although I had lost the race, and was disappointed,
I now consoled myself that it was all for the best; had I killed a
giraffe at that hour and distance from camp, what good would it have
been? I was quite alone; thus who could have found it during the night?
and before morning it would have been devoured by lions and hyenas;
inoffensive and beautiful creatures, what a sin it appeared to destroy
them uselessly! With these consoling and practical reflections I
continued my way, until a branch of hooked thorn fixing in my nose
disturbed the train of ideas and persuaded me that it was very dark, and
that I had lost my way, as I could no longer distinguish either the
tracks of the giraffes or the position of the mountains. Accordingly I
fired my rifle as a signal, and soon after I heard a distant report in
reply, and the blaze of a fire shot up suddenly in the distance on the
side of the mountain. With the help of this beacon I reached the spot
where our people were bivouacked; they had lighted the beacon on a rock
about fifty feet above the level, as although some twenty or thirty
fires were blazing, they had been obscured by the intervening jungle. I
found both my wife and my men in an argumentative state as to the
propriety of my remaining alone so late in the jungle; however, I also
found dinner ready; the angareps (stretcher bedsteads) arranged by a
most comfortable blazing fire, and a glance at the star-lit heavens
assured me of a fine night—what more can man wish for?—wife, welcome,
food, fire, and fine weather?
The bivouac in the wilderness has many charms; there is a complete
independence—the sentries are posted, the animals picketed and fed, and
the fires arranged in a complete circle around the entire party—men,
animals, and luggage all within the fiery ring; the sentries alone being
on the outside. There is a species of ironwood that is very inflammable,
and being oily, it burns like a torch; this grew in great quantities,
and the numerous fires fed with this vigorous fuel enlivened the bivouac
with a continual blaze. My men were busy, baking their bread. On such
occasions an oven is dispensed with. A prodigious fire is made while the
dough is being prepared; this, when well moistened, is formed into a
cake about two feet in diameter, but not thicker than two inches. The
fire being in a fit state of glowing ash, a large hole is scraped in the
centre, in which the flat cake is laid, and the red-hot embers are raked
over it; thus buried it will bake in about twenty minutes, but the dough
must be exceedingly moist or it will burn to a cinder.
On the following day we arrived at Latooka, where I found everything in
good order at the depot, and the European vegetables that I had sown
were all above ground. Commoro and a number of people came to meet us.
There had been but little rain at Latooka since we left, although it had
been raining heavily at Obbo daily, and there was no difference in the
dry sandy plain that surrounded the town, neither was there any
pasturage for the animals except at a great distance.
The day after my arrival, Filfil was taken ill and died in a few hours.
Tetel had been out of condition ever since the day of his failure during
the elephant hunt, and he now refused his food. Sickness rapidly spread
through my animals; five donkeys died within a few days, and the
remainder 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.
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 smallpox 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.
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. Smallpox is a scourge
among the tribes of Central Africa, and it occasionally sweeps through
the country and decimates the population.
Among the natives of Obbo, who had accompanied us to Latooka, was a man
named Wani, who had formerly travelled far to the south, and had offered
to conduct Ibrahim to a country rich in ivory that had never been
visited by a trader: this man had accordingly been engaged as guide arid
interpreter. In an examination of Wani I discovered that the
cowrie-shells were brought from a place called “Magungo.” This name I
had previously heard mentioned by the natives, but I could obtain no
clue to its position. It was most important that I should discover the
exact route by which the cowries arrived from the south, as it would be
my guide to that direction. The information that I received from Wani at
Latooka was excessively vague, and upon most slender data I founded my
conclusions so carefully that my subsequent discoveries have rendered
most interesting the first scent of the position which I eventually
followed with success. I accordingly extract, verbatim, from my journal
the note written by me at Latooka on the 26th of May, 1863, when I first
received the clue to the Albert N’yanza: “I have had a long examination
of Wani, the guide and interpreter, respecting the country of Magungo.
Loggo, the Bari interpreter, has always described Magungo as being on a
large river, and I have concluded that it must be the Asua; but, upon
cross-examination, I find he has used the word ‘Bahr’ (in Arabic
signifying river or sea) instead of ‘Birke’ (lake). This important error
being discovered gives a new feature to the geography of this part.”
According to his description, Magungo is situated on a lake so large
that no one knows its limits. Its breadth is such that, if you journey
two days east and the same distance west, there is no land visible on
either quarter, while to the south its direction is utterly unknown.
Large vessels arrive at Magungo from distant and unknown parts, bringing
cowrie-shells and beads in exchange for ivory. Upon these vessels white
men have been seen. All the cowrie-shells used in Latooka and the
neighbouring countries are supplied by these vessels, but none have
arrived for the last two years.
“His description of distance places Magungo on about the 2 degrees N.
lat. The lake can be no other than the ‘N’yanza,’ which, if the position
of Magungo be correct, extends much farther north than Speke had
supposed. The ‘white men’ must be Arab traders who bring cowries from
Zanzibar. I shall take the first opportunity to push for Magungo. I
imagine that country belongs to Kamrasi’s brother, as Wani says the king
has a brother who is king of a powerful country on the west bank of the
Nile but that they are ever at war with each other.
“I examined another native who had been to Magungo to purchase Simbi
(the cowrie-shell); he says that a white man formerly arrived there
annually, and brought a donkey with him in a boat; that he disembarked
his donkey and rode about the country, dealing with the natives, and
bartering cowries and brass-coil bracelets. This man had no firearms,
but wore a sword. The king of Magungo was called ‘Cherrybambi.’”
This information was the first clue to the facts that I subsequently
established, and the account of the white men (Arabs) arriving at
Magungo was confirmed by the people of that country twelve months after
I obtained this vague information at Latooka.
Arabs, being simply brown, are called WHITE men by the blacks of these
countries. I was called a VERY white man as a distinction, but I have
frequently been obliged to take off my shirt to exhibit
Comments (0)