The departure was not effected quite so easily as might have been
anticipated. The de Guéran caravan, whilst the Europeans were laying
their plans, had been making some of its own, and these plans
consisted in resting until the evening, and then joining the
Monbuttoos for the purpose of celebrating a united orgie on a
gigantic scale in honour of the victory. As an exceptional case, and
contrary to all their habits, the negroes were taking thought of the
future, and had come to the conclusion that their chiefs intended to
indulge them with a long spell of idleness. Had they not found the
white man they had been seeking for so long? Had not the object of
the journey been attained, and, before retracing their steps along
the road by which they had come, were not both soldiers and porters
entitled to make a long stay in the conquered country, the country of
lovely women whose charms had been vaunted to arouse their zeal?
These women were terrible in battle—that they had found out to their
cost, but now that they were conquered and disarmed, they might
possibly be found to possess an amount of amiability hitherto
unsuspected.
Consequently, when an attempt was made to rouse the Nubians from
their day-dreams, and warn them to be ready to start at once, some
very significant murmuring was heard. Although, owing to the mingled
firmness and tact of M. de Morin, the soldiers had learnt discipline,
though for more than a year they had proved themselves to be faithful
and devoted servants, and had become almost civilized by contact with
the Europeans, as soon as a disposition was shown to rob them of the
fruits of their victory and to restrain them from the indulgence of
their ruling passion, they became what they were before —
unreasonable, unmanageable and mutinous.
Their leaders had, in the long run, gained too great an ascendancy
over them not to be able to overcome this resistance, which, after
all, was more a matter of instinct than of reason. They made them
understand that the hour for repose was not yet come, and that the
Walindis might yet collect their scattered forces and attack them
again. They showed them the heaps of dead bodies lying all around,
and hinted that they too were still liable to share the fate of their
friends. But, as soon as they comprehended that, instead of regaining
the road to the north and going back to their own country, they were
to scale the mountain range and go on southwards, they made fresh
objections. It was all over with them! They would never more set eyes
on the Dinka land, or their beloved Nubia, or the dear old Nile! When
the Europeans arrived at the end of their journey, so far, far away,
they would leave them to their fate, and how were they to get back to
Khartoum?
These complaints were reasonable enough up to a certain point. The
bearers and soldiers, it is true, had been engaged to follow their
leaders whithersoever it might please the latter to go, but nobody
then foresaw so long a journey. The return, indeed, would be a matter
of considerable diflficulty for everybody, if these men were taken as
far as Zanzibar.
"Why should we go there at all?" M. de Pommerelle was the first to
suggest. "The journey is a long one, and it took us more than six
months to accomplish it. How are we to get across Lake Albert again
on our rafts? They did very well for us, because the current took us
from east to west, but when it becomes a question of going against
the current, what are our means of transport? Can we rely upon the
inhabitants of Magungo, who saluted our departure with flights of
arrows, sending their canoes to bring us over to the eastern side?"
"And even supposing," continued Dr. Desrioux, "that we manage to get
across the lake, I dread the effect of the long journey and the
unhealthy climate of certain parts of the country upon M. de Guéran."
"You have, I suppose," asked M. Périères, "some other route to
propose?"
"Certainly I have. As soon as we have rejoined our caravan on the
shore of the Albert Nyanza, there is nothing to prevent our remaining
on the western side, and proceeding northwards to Gondokoro, as
Baker, Speke, and Grant did. We are now in lat. 2° N., and Gondokoro,
or Ismailia, is about 5°. It is a mere question of 3°, or, in other
words, seventy-five leagues, a matter of six weeks at most. That is
evidently the shortest way."
"Undoubtedly," said M. de Morin, "seeing that we are at least 8° from
Zanzibar. But, when once we have reached that island we should be, as
it were, at home again, because we could take ship there and steam to
Europe."
"At Gondokoro," replied Dr. Desrioux, "we can hire a vessel. We shall
then descend the Nile and set sail for France after a more direct
fashion still."
"The proposed route appears to me to be an excellent one," said M.
Périères, as if to close the discussion, "and I move that it be
adopted. It has, moreover, one considerable advantage; it will enable
us to overcome all the objections of our Nubians and Dinkas. We shall
be taking them home in a straight line, and, if they so wish, we can
drop them at their respective doors. Will you allow me to make this
arrangement with them?"
MM. de Morin and Delange gave their consent, and M. de Pommerelle
could not help being charmed at such a resolution.
"After having done so much," said he, "to come to Africa, I should
have been in despair at having seen so little and being obliged to go
back the same way. It is bad enough to be deprived of all chance of a
peep at the countries of the Monbuttoos, the Niam-Niam, and the
Bongos, but you must tell me all about them, and T will try to
console myself."
"I will console you," said Miss Poles, accompanying her words by one
of her most seductive smiles. "I will talk to you about King Kadjoro,
a very charming man, and about his royal brother Munza, of whom I
will not say one word in disparagement—his tomb is too close to us."
"Mind you tell him _all_ your adventures," said Dr. Delange, with a
laugh.
"I will not forget anything, sir," replied Miss Poles, in a tone of
pique. "A man like M. de Pommerelle is worthy of truth."
As she said the words—M. de Pommerelle—she plumed herself to such a
degree, that there was no disguising the fact that he had made a
great impression upon her.
Whilst this conversation was going on, M. Périères unfolded to Nassar
and the Arab interpreters the plan of action he was about to adopt.
They understood it at once, and undertook to explain it to the
caravan.
After having settled matters with the Khartoum people, an arrangement
had to be made with the Zanzibar contingent. When the latter heard of
the proposed route, they began to grumble—"What was to become of
them? How were they to get back from Gondokoro to the coast and their
own country?" In reality, they had very little cause for complaint,
as most of them had already made the trip, the central point in which
is Lake Victoria, but they hoped, by means of grumbling, to secure an
increase in their wages. They got what they wanted, for there was no
dispensing with these fifty men, well armed and just calculated to
fill up the gaps created by death in the de Guéran expedition.
Towards four o'clock in the afternoon, by dint of mingled arguments,
threats and promises, the last efforts at resistance on the part of
the two caravans were successfully overcome. Active preparations for
departure were at once set on foot; the torn sacks were sewn up,
cases closed again, and arms collected. The provisions and absolutely
indispensable baggage were next got together, everything too
cumbersome to be easily transported being left behind. Masters and
servants, men and women, all concerned, worked their very hardest,
Madame de Guéran alone remaining with her husband, whilst Queen
Walinda, whose bonds had been made still more secure, lay motionless
on the ground.
M. de Morin, on making a survey of this army of labourers, at length
noticed that Joseph was _non est_. He had satisfied himself some time
previously, when inspecting the field of battle, that his faithful
servant was not amongst the killed, and, reassured on this essential
head, he had not troubled himself any more about that useless being.
But now that he could not see him, he became rather anxious. At the
very commencement of the battle, Joseph had ensconced himself behind
his bullock and a vast array of boxes—had he, too, like Munza, been
buried underneath the rock? Was he sharing, with the King of the
Monbuttoos, the honour of a royal tomb? Joseph's decease would
certainly not compromise the success of the expedition in any one
way, but M. de Morin had always had a certain weakness for his valet;
he looked upon taking him back to the Rue Taitbout in a state of
perfect preservation as a point of honour, and he thought himself
bound, before making an official report of his death, to make some
effort to find him alive. At first he called him by name, adding
thereto a series of epithets by no means complimentary, such as
"good-for-nothing," "lazy," "scoundrel," "coward." As Joseph did not
respond to these appeals, M. de Morin grew more tender. "Joseph, my
good Joseph, my dear Joseph, don't be afraid; the amazons have
disappeared." This sweetness was equally futile; the valet remained
invisible. His master then thought of drumming for him, there being
no town-crier at hand with a bell. Accordingly a Nubian was provided
with an empty tin case, and on it he executed a prolonged and
artistic roll.
At the sound of the drum two serpents of the python species, called
by the natives of Africa _metsé_, _pallah_, or _tari_, were seen to
glide out of a cleft at the bottom of the rock. Passionately fond of
music, like all their race, they were attracted by the roll of the
African drum. Presently, there appeared behind them a man, or,
rather, the head of a man, whose body was enveloped by a python five
metres long and from thirty to forty centimeters in circumference.
The head belonged to Joseph. Early in the morning this brave servant
had come to the conclusion that things would turn out badly for him,
and that his barricade was by no means a sufficient protection.
Creeping along the foot of the mountain, he slipped into a cleft
which might have been constructed on purpose to afford him a hiding-place.
But the serpents, alarmed by the firing, had hit upon
precisely the same idea, had chosen the same refuge, and taking
Joseph, who was paralysed by fear, for the trunk of a tree, had
coiled themselves round him. For several hours the unhappy wretch was
a silent spectator of the proceedings of these reptiles. A naturalist
would assuredly have profited by the opportunity of studying their
manners and customs, but Joseph, persuaded that his last hour was
come, limited himself to repenting of his misdeeds, and silently
confessing his sins.
At last the music produced its effect. Two of the serpents uncoiled
themselves, one after the other, and left their perch, whilst the
third, converting a point of a rock into a fulcrum, wound his tail
round it, and, without quitting his victim, drew him outwards. A
general rush was made to rescue Joseph as soon as his terror-stricken
face, haggard eyes, and hair on end appeared in view, and as the
pythons are quite harmless, they were driven away without difficulty.
The lower orders of creation had certainly manifested a decided
predilection for M. de Morin's valet. Bees, ants, leeches, termites
of all kinds, and serpents had in turn disported themselves on his
body, and left behind them charming reminiscences of his journey.
At five o'clock the united caravans were all ready to start.