Prisoners on the island--Left to starve--Months of helplessness--We
rejoin the Turks--The real Kamrasi--In the presence of royalty.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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."
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."
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."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I was then carried back to my camp at Kisoona, where I was received by a
great crowd of people.