DESTRUCTION OF THE SHIR DETACHMENT.
On July 30, 1871, I was astonished by the arrival of the tall sheik,
Niambore, with whom I had left an officer and six men in the Shir tribe,
to superintend the cultivation of corn. This fine-looking fellow was
introduced, accompanied by five of his principal advisers. He shortly
told me his story. He had been four nights on the road, as he had not
dared to travel by day, fearing the Baris: thus, in the dark, he had
frequently wandered from the track. In the daytime he had slept in the
concealment of forests.
He had run this risk in order to be the first to give me the bad news,
lest I should suspect him of foul play. All my soldiers were killed,
except the major, Achmet Rafik, and a corporal!
When Abou Saood had passed his country some weeks since, his people had
attacked a neighbouring sheik, and had carried off a large number of
cattle, although he was aware of the presence of a government officer
with a very small detachment. Abou Saood had sent three of the captured
cows as a present to the officer in command, Achmet Rafik, who, instead
of protesting against the razzia, had, Turk-like, actually accepted the
present, and thus had fallen into the snare.
The natives, smarting under the unprovoked attack, visited Niambore, and
desired him to send my men out of the country, as they were evidently
leagued with those of Abou Saood. The sheik Niambore refused, and
declared that he should protect them until he received further orders
from me. This implicated Niambore, and the neighbours then insisted upon
the sacrifice of Achmet Rafik and his few soldiers in revenge for their
lost cattle. Niambore, with a chivalry that is rare among negroes,
declared his determination of sheltering my people until he should
communicate with me. He was attacked at night by the neighbouring
sheiks; and my soldiers assisted him in the defence. The attack was
repulsed, and he determined to return the compliment on the following
day, with the assistance of the soldiers. After a long march across many
deep channels, the battle went against him, and in a precipitate
retreat, the soldiers could not swim the deep channels like Niambore's
people; they were accordingly overtaken and killed, with the loss of
their arms and accoutrements, now in possession of the natives.
Major Achmet Rafik and a corporal were safe, as they were both ill, and
had therefore not accompanied the five soldiers in the attack. Niambore
had faithfully exposed himself to great danger in order to secure their
protection, and they were now in his keeping, concealed in a forest
about a day's march from the village which had been their station.
On the following day I sent the steamer off at 9 p.m. with Niambore and
twenty men, the moon being full. The river had risen about four feet six
inches, therefore there was no fear of her touching a sand-bank. At the
same time I wrote to Abou Saood, giving him notice of his responsibility
for the loss of the government troops, caused by his unprovoked and
unjustifiable aggression. (From that time, I of course gave up all
ideas of returning the cattle that had been captured by Abou Saood, as I
had originally intended. Such an act, after the destruction of my men,
would have been received by the Shir as a proof of fear.)
All my anticipations of successful cultivation had been fruitless. The
drought of this year had caused a general scarcity. The months of July
and August should have the heaviest rainfall; July had just expired with
a rainfall of only 1.13 inch. The mean temperature had been 71 degrees F
at 6 a.m.; at noon, 84 degrees F.
I was very anxious about our supply of dhurra, which would not last much
longer. On 1st August I ordered the troops to receive fifteen days'
rations of rice, so as to save the small stock of dhurra until the crops
should be ripe upon the island. These were guarded by a company of
troops. I extract the following entry from my journal:-
"August 2, 1871. --The Soudani soldiers are discontented with their
rations of dhurra; and to-day I was addressed by an unreasonable mob,
demanding an increase of corn which does not exist. These people never
think of to-morrow, and during the long voyage from Tewfikeeyah they
have been stealing the corn, and drinking merissa heedless of the
future.
"The black colonel, Tayib Agha, is much to blame for the discontent, as
he has, upon several occasions, in THE PRESENCE OF THE TROOPS, told Mr.
Higginbotham and myself that 'the men could not work well because they
were hungry.' This foolish remark, made before the soldiers by their own
lieutenant-colonel, is certain to create bad feeling.
"I went across to the island to examine the corn: the greater portion of
the crop will be ready in about eight days, but the Baris, in spite of
the guards, are stealing large quantities during the night.
"The terrible difficulty in this country is the want of corn; and now
that all direct communication with Khartoum is cut off by the
obstructions in the Nile, the affair is most serious. The natives are
all hostile, thus a powerful force is absolutely necessary, but the
difficulty is to feed this force.
"I wrote an official letter to Raouf Bey to caution Lieutenant-Colonel
Tayib Agha against making remarks in the presence of his troops."
On August 3 the steamer returned, bringing Achmet Rafik and the sole
surviving soldier from the Shir. This officer declared his men to have
been insubordinate, and that they joined the natives against his orders
to make an attack upon their enemies in return for attacks on their
part.
Two witnesses, the surviving soldier and the wife of one that was
killed, declared that Achmet Rafik himself gave the men orders to fight
the tribe, in company with the people of Niambore; but fearing
responsibility for the result, he now laid the onus of failure upon the
insubordination of the men. (The fact remained that in consequence of
the razzia made by Abou Saood's orders the natives attacked Niambore and
my people. In self-defence, Niambore and my few men returned the
attack, and my soldiers were killed. The Shir were thus rendered hostile
with the exception of Niambore.)
My people were so obtuse that they could not understand the true
position of affairs. The harvest was commencing. I had jealously guarded
the corn upon the island, which should have produced at least 500
urdeps; but the officers and men did not wish to see the granaries
filled, as that fact would destroy the excuse for a return to Khartoum;
thus, instead of labouring with heart and soul to gather the harvest,
they worked so lazily, that in nine days they only reaped 237 urdeps, or
not one half that was actually upon the fields. They permitted the
natives to steal by night, and the swarms of small birds destroyed an
incredible quantity by day. These innumerable and ruinous pests do not
consume the entire grain, but they nibble the soft sweet portion from
the joint of each seed, neatly picking out the heart; thus the ground
beneath is strewed with their remnants of destruction.
I had not visited Belinian since their unprovoked attack, for two
reasons. First, we were engaged in fortifying the station; and,
secondly, I did not wish to raise the suspicion among the Baris that I
might come down suddenly upon their crops. Up to the present time we had
acted mainly on the defensive, and the natives had no fear for their
harvest. I knew that about 2,000 acres of dhurra would be at our service
by a sudden attack on Belinian, if the troops would work earnestly to
secure it. At the same time I was afraid to mention the subject, lest
some intrigue might destroy the possibility of success.
If Abou Saood or his people had possessed a knowledge of my intentions,
they would at once have given warning to our enemies, and would have
destroyed my plans. Both Abou Saood and the greater number of the
officers were anxiously watching the close of the drama, as they
imagined that with the disappearance of supplies, the curtain would fall
upon the last act.
I possessed information that would render me independent of corn from
Khartoum, if the troops would only work honestly. We were at open war
with the Baris, and we had been constantly subjected to their attacks. I
had arranged my plans to complete my forts so as to be ready for a
campaign at the commencement of the harvest, when the country would be
full of corn. My two rich harvests would be Belinian--twelve miles
distant and the fruitful islands beyond the mountain Regiaf, about
fourteen miles south of Gondokoro. The latter would be easily collected,
as the vessels could load at the islands, and convey the cargoes down
stream direct to head-quarters.
Everything depended upon the officers and men. Raouf Bey, who commanded
the troops, was in daily communication with Abou Saood, who was exerting
himself to the utmost to ruin the expedition by promoting discontent,
and persuading the officers that they would die of starvation, and that
the Baris were most dangerous enemies, who would exterminate the troops
should I weaken the force by taking a detachment to form stations in the
interior.
It was thus pre-arranged by my own people that, even if in the midst of
plenty, the corn should not be collected in any larger quantity than
would suffice to feed the expedition during the return voyage from
Gondokoro to Khartoum.
In that case, the expedition would be broken up and abandoned. The
authorities would piously ejaculate, "El hambd el Allah!" (Thanks be to
God!) The country would once more fall into the hands of Abou Saood by
contract with the government of the Soudan. The good old times of
slave-hunting would return and remain undisturbed. The Christian would
have been got rid of by an ignominious failure. Abou Saood would have
boasted of the success of his diplomacy; and Allorron and his Baris,
once freed from the restraint of a government, would have fraternized
again with their allies the slave-hunters, to pillage, kidnap, and
desolate the productive countries of Central Africa.
I determined that the expedition should succeed, and, with God's help, I
would overcome every opposition.
The forts were completed. Gondokoro, or, as I had named it, Ismailia,
was protected by a ditch and earthwork, with bastions mounting ten guns.
My little station was also fortified; thus I could commence a campaign
against the whole Bari tribe, without fearing for the safety of my base.
On August 30, 1871, I started with a force of 450 men, with one gun, and
one rocket-trough for Hale's three-pounder rockets.
I left twenty of the "Forty Thieves" at my little station, together with
a reinforcement of thirty men. I had ordered the captain of the
diahbeeah, upon which my wife resided, to push the vessel off the bank
and to anchor in the stream every night.
The Baris of the Belinian Mountain were well provided with guns and
ammunition, which they had taken in various massacres of the
slave-traders' parties some years before. On one occasion they had
killed 126 of the traders in one day, and had possessed themselves of
their arms, with many cases of cartridges.
On several occasions they had destroyed smaller parties with the same
result, and they had never been at peace with Abou Saood since he had
treacherously murdered their Sheik and his family. Recently having
allied with Abou Saood's friends (the Baris of Gondokoro), against the
government, some of the Belinian people had ventured to trade, and had
established a communication with Abou Saood's people, from whom they
purchased ammunition in exchange for tobacco.
Having given orders on the previous evening that the men were to be
under arms ready for the march at 1 a.m., I was annoyed to find that
neither officers nor men were prepared when I arrived punctually at the
hour appointed at head-quarters. The colonel, Raouf Bey, was fast
asleep, and had to be roused by the sentry. This was a breach of
discipline that cost Major Achmet Rafik his life. After some annoying
delay I started for Belinian. At that time, in the dark night, I was not
aware that Achmet Rafik was absent. This officer was a thorough-bred
Turk, and he had seen much service, having been through the Crimean war,
and also in that of Arabia, under Abbas Pacha. He ought to have known
better, but he shared the prevalent feeling of discontent; thus, instead
of being on the alert and at his post, he was asleep when the troops
started on their night march.
When awakened, he hastily dressed, buckled on his sword and revolver,
and taking a double-barrelled gun in his hand he endeavoured to follow
the troops, but mistook the direction, and lost his way in the dark.
We arrived at the open valley of Belinian at day-break, but native
scouts had already given the alarm of our approach. There were some
hundred villages situated in the vale and on the heights along the base
of the mountain; but at this season only the tops of the huts were
visible above the high dhurra, which was just ripened, although the
general harvest had not yet commenced.
There is no covert so much in favour of native warfare as the high
dhurra, which perfectly conceals their movements, at the same time that
it is easily passed through at speed.
The Bari drums were beating throughout the country, and their horns were
sounding in all directions. Clearing the way with skirmishers, we
marched along a good path for about four miles parallel with the base of
the mountain, until we arrived at a plain or bottom, which bore the
marks of cattle-hoofs in great numbers. This spot was about thirteen
miles from head-quarters at Gondokoro.
There was no dhurra cultivation on the right, near the base of the
mountain, as the soil was poor and sandy: we thus had a clear view of
the country. The cattle had been driven off, and we were only in time to
see them disappearing over the distant high ground. The natives had
collected in large numbers, and seemed disposed to dispute the advance
of the troops.
The ground was perfectly clean, as the cattle had fed off the grass
until it was as smooth as a garden lawn. From the position we occupied,
the country inclined upwards towards the base of the mountain, about a
mile and a half distant; this interval abounded in villages, all of
which were defended by stockades. At the base of the mountain were
broken hills, composed of huge granite rocks, the foundations of
mountains that had long since decayed. Upon all these strong positions
were the usual stockaded villages.
I ordered the troops to extend in two lines, supported by a reserve with
the field-piece and rocket-trough. With the "Forty Thieves" in the
front, we advanced along the plain towards the mountain.
The Baris now opened fire upon us from their villages, from which they
were driven in succession, until no enemy remained to oppose us except
those upon the high ground.
Our right was now protected by an exceedingly deep ravine, which was a
watercourse cut by the torrents from the mountain. I accordingly took a
party of the "Forty Thieves," and following along the edge of the
ravine, ascended the slope that led to the stockades upon the heights.
Great numbers of natives had assembled, and were shouting the most
abusive epithets in Arabic until we arrived at about a hundred yards
from the foremost stockade. This now opened fire upon us, the natives
being concealed within, and aiming with their muskets between the
interstices of the upright piles.
My riflemen now knelt down and fired at the puffs of smoke as they
issued from the impenetrable ironwood zareebas. This was just the work
that the Baris understood, as their position enabled them to fight
unseen among the numerous stockades and high rocks clothed with bush.
The bullets were whistling merrily, and presently a soldier by my side
was shot through the fleshy part of the hip. I examined him, and saw
that the bullet bad passed through,--therefore he continued firing. A
wife of one of the soldiers was shot through the calf of the leg. She
had accompanied him with a small parcel of cooking-pots and food from
Gondokoro that morning and thus came under fire.
The main body was delayed in the rear, replying to the fire of the Baris
on the other side of the impassable ravine. I had only twenty men with
me in addition to Lieutenant Baker. I therefore ordered the bugler to
sound the "assembly," as I determined to attack the stockades with the
whole force.
In a few minutes the main body arrived, and formed for the attack. The
bugles and drums sounded the advance, and the troops, having fired
several volleys, rushed on at the double and stormed the position. This
was well executed, and the rush was so unexpected by the Baris, that the
stockades were taken at the point of the bayonet; Captain Morgian
Sherreef [*] distinguishing himself by the gallant manner in which he
led his company; he was the first man to break through the gateway.
[*Footnote: This officer was a Soudani who had served under Marshal
Bazaine for four years in Mexico.]
This attack was something that the Baris did not comprehend. They had
only been accustomed to face the slave-hunters' irregular companies, and
they had never seen a charge borne with the bayonet. They now began to
clamber up the rocks and ascend the mountain with the activity of
baboons, while a sharp fire from the snider rifles acted like a spur
upon their movements. A shell from the gun now burst over a number of
the enemy who had collected about 800 yards in our rear. This was an
unmistakable notice to quit. We set fire to the stockades, and the Baris
having disappeared, I selected a position for a night's bivouac.
There was a bad supply of water, and we could procure, nothing but a
muddy mixture which smelt strongly of goats. We had found a number of
fat calves and sheep; thus, having fixed upon a site in the flat open
plain, the men collected firewood, and when the evening set in, the camp
fires were blazing and every man was well supplied with food.
I doubled the sentries for the night, but we remained undisturbed.
I was very anxious about the major, Achmet Rafik, as Raouf Bey and the
officers declared that he would have certainly endeavoured to follow the
troops rather than run the risk of disobeying the orders he had
received. The Baris never take prisoners, and should they meet him,
which would be most probable, his death was certain.
On the following morning I ordered an advance towards the north side of
the plain, where I had observed a line of zareebas upon elevated ground
that commanded a view of the plain and the base of the mountain that we
had attacked yesterday.
On arrival upon the higher ground, I found the country perfectly flat
and completely covered with heavy crops of ripe dhurra, in which the
zareebas were concealed, with the exception of the tops of the huts.
Drums were beating and horns blowing in all these stockades.
I had a suspicion that the Baris might have stationed sharp-shooters in
ambush among the high dhurra. I therefore directed a couple of rockets
through the corn. The rush of these unknown projectiles produced a great
effect, as they burst through the stockade, and buzzed and whizzed about
the huts within the defence. An eight-pound shell from the gun now
crashed through the stockade and went howling along through the dense
fields of dhurra, until it exploded about 500 yards in the rear.
The bugle immediately sounded the advance with the bayonet, and the
troops made a rush forward through the corn and captured the stockade.
We now found no less than six of these powerful inclosures within an
area of about four acres. These would form an admirable position. I
therefore gave orders that the corn should be immediately cleared away
so as to leave an open space. Guards were posted in various places;
sentries were placed on the summits of the tallest huts to keep a good
look-out, while the remainder of the force set to work and commenced
clearing. By sunset we had cut down about six acres.
I gave orders to Raouf Bey to divide the troops in four stockades, which
formed a sort of quadrilateral. This officer suggested that the men
might all be massacred by a Bari night-attack if thus divided, and he
proposed to inclose the whole force of 450 men within one zareeba, like
sheep or cattle! In spite of our successes, the officers had a wholesome
dread of the Baris, that relieved me from all apprehensions of their
erring by an excess of rashness.
I divided the soldiers of the line in three zareebas, while I occupied
the fourth with Lieutenant Baker and twenty men of the "Forty Thieves."
Every day was now passed in collecting corn, but the soldiers as usual
worked badly. In the mean time the natives worked most energetically
during the night, and carried off ten times the amount gathered by the
troops. There was so bad a feeling among the officers, that it was easy
to perceive they were predetermined to neglect this opportunity of
filling our granaries.
The Baris were excellent diplomatists, and, seeing that we were too
powerful to resist by open force, they sent women to treat for peace.
This was simply a manoeuvre to gain time, as during the truce they could
carry off the corn by day as well as night. I always leant towards
peace, although the war had been wantonly forced upon me; thus we soon
established friendly relations with an old sheik named Jarda, about two
miles from the Belinian mountain. This old fellow had an exceedingly
clever sister who would have made a good foreign minister. She explained
just as much of the Belinian politics as would suit her purpose, and
very properly declared that the women were all in favour of the
government, and they would use their influence with the men, some of
whom she asserted had very "hard heads."
Old Jarda, who was about eighty and had sufficient worldly experience to
appreciate the value of a good counsellor, left the diplomatic
arrangements to his sister, who became extremely active, and ran about
the country to collect the principal headmen.
We had many palavers, which as usual ended in nothing but assurances of
goodwill, and an explanation that the attacks on Gondokoro were made by
certain districts, but that Jarda's people were not responsible. In the
mean time thousands of women and children were engaged in carrying off
the corn. The country seemed alive with baskets, as these useful
articles were seen gliding about in all directions on the heads of
natives that were invisible in the high grass.
I returned to Gondokoro for reinforcements, and I collected 200 armed
sailors. With this additional force my wife also accompanied me to our
camp at Belinian. We had now 650 men to collect the corn. I noticed an
extraordinary diminution in the crop during my absence of only two days,
but not a corresponding increase in the store collected by the troops
left under the command of Raouf Bey.
I had occupied the valley by a line of three stockaded positions, at
intervals of about a mile and a half; thus a very large area of corn was
commanded, and if the patrols had done their duty, it would have been
impossible for the natives to have carried it off.
Nothing had been heard of the missing major, Achmet Rafik; he had not
returned to Gondokoro as I had hoped. I now discovered, through the
native women, that he had been killed by the Baris on the same day that
we had arrived at Belinian. It appeared that the unfortunate officer had
steered his course for the Belinian mountain peak, in the hope of
overtaking the troops. This route through the forest led him to the
extreme end of the valley at the foot of the mountain, quite in the
wrong direction. Having arrived at the nearly dry bed of the Belinian
river, he sat beneath a tree to rest. The natives quickly observed him,
and stalked him as though he had been a wild animal.
It appeared that, when attacked, he had wounded one native in the head
with his "little gun," as the Baris termed his revolver; and this man
was still alive with the bullet in his skull, which the women declared
was swollen as large as a pumpkin.
Achmet Rafik was thus overpowered and killed, with the gain to the Baris
of his arms and ammunition.
I immediately started off with a company of troops, led by a Bari guide,
to the west end of the plain, where my officer had been killed. I had
not yet visited this spot, but the guilty natives were wide awake, and
they had concealed the arms, which I had hoped to recover. The forest
was tolerably open, and was full of small villages concealed by the
trees. I spread out my men and regularly drove the covert. Suddenly we
came upon a herd of cattle and a number of natives who had imagined
themselves secure in the depths of the forest.
I immediately dashed into them on horseback, accompanied by Lieutenant
Baker, Colonel Abd-el-Kader, and Monsoor, followed by the troops. The
cattle, seeing the red shirts of the "Forty Thieves," had gone off in a
regular stampede through the forest; this precipitate flight had been
quickened by the report of the rifles. It was difficult work to manage
the herd with only four horses. No one who has not hunted African, and
especially Bari cattle, can have an idea of the activity of these
animals. They go along at a tremendous pace, and never appear to get
blown: thus we were spurring hard through the forest in order to
overtake the herd, when to my great satisfaction we arrived at the broad
bed (nearly dry) of the Belinian river. This checked the pace, and we
reined up our horses, and quietly waited for the troops, who were
excellent runners.
A few men of "The Forty" were the first up, and we managed to drive the
cattle across the river on to the open plain. Hardly had we arrived on
the level ground, when they started off in another stampede, and kept us
going for about three miles, as though we were following hounds.
With a horse on each flank and in the rear of the herd we at length
managed to control their movements. Fortunately we had been running
towards our camp.
A herd of cattle generally depends upon a few of its members, which are
usually followed by the others. Upon this occasion there were two cows
that appeared to direct their movements. These wild creatures refused to
enter our cattle kraal upon arrival at the camp, when the troops, having
seen our approach, came out to render assistance. With skilful
management the herd was secured within the kraal, with the exception of
the two undisciplined cows, which started off at full speed along the
plain, followed by Abd-el-Kader and myself. A black and white cow was
exceedingly vicious, and being hard pressed for about a quarter of a
mile, she turned to bay on the open plain. I was riding my best horse,
named "The Pig," who was very powerful and fast, and understood
cattle-driving thoroughly. "The Pig," accordingly avoided the charge of
the infuriated cow, which dashed at him like a wild buffalo. I
immediately shot her in the shoulder with a revolver, which had no other
effect than to turn her towards Colonel Abd-el-Kader, who was riding a
large, clumsy chestnut called "Jamoos" (the buffalo). This horse
remained perfectly still when the cow rushed at him, and Abd-ed-Kader
instead of firing his rifle, received the charge full upon his left leg,
into which the cow drove her sharp horn, making a serious wound nearly
through the calf. I then shot the cow through the head, but Abd-el-Kader
was in great pain and quite disabled.
Upon counting our cattle we found 165. This was a very small herd, but
they had been difficult to capture.
Our new ally, old Jarda, with his diplomatic sister, came to visit us
upon hearing of our success, and immediately asked for a calf, which I
gave him.
Jarda's sister now informed me that the sheik of the mountain wished for
peace, and requested permission to visit me. On the following day he
appeared. He was a fine powerful fellow, but with a bad expression. I
had already heard that Jarda and he were not friends, therefore I looked
upon this introduction with suspicion.
After the usual declaration of friendship by the new sheik, and an
apology for past misdemeanours, presents were requested. A fat calf was
given--then a sheep was demanded; this was also supplied. We now came to
business. It appeared that the Belinian Baris had been called upon by
Allorron to become allies, at the same time that Loqiua had been invited
to join in the general attack that had been made upon Gondokoro.
Loquia had hesitated, but had at length joined Belinian, as the
government troops had been reported as great cowards who were afraid to
venture far from their head-quarters. The many thousand cattle known to
be at Gondokoro, and the fabulous amount of stores and material, at
length tempted the Loquia to join forces.
On the night of the attack, it now appeared that Loquia had lost many
men killed; others who were wounded dropped on the way, and died on the
route through Belinian. This loss so enraged Loquia (who considered that
he had been only used as a cat's-paw), that he was determined not to
return home empty-handed. He therefore revenged himself upon his allies,
and captured about 2,000 head of cattle from Belinian, with which he
returned to his mountains two days' distant.
On the day following my interview with the sheik of the mountain,
"Wani," I received information which made me suspect that he was not the
real sheik, and that some trick was intended.
Once more I was waited upon by old Jarda, with his female minister of
foreign affairs, in company with Wani, the reputed sheik of the
mountain, together with a number of headmen.
I now received a direct proposal to form a general alliance. The
Belinian Baris declared allegiance to the government, and proposed to
join all their forces to make a great attack, in conjunction with the
troops, upon a country about sixteen miles distant, governed by a sheik
named Lokko. They described this country as abounding in corn, and
sesame, in addition to great wealth in cattle. They also declared that
they had already sent spies into the land, who had returned with the
news that the harvest was over, and all the grain was stowed in the
granaries; thus the troops would have no trouble in collecting the corn.
They also promised that if I would make the attack, they would collect
all their women and transport the corn to head-quarters at Gondokoro;
thus the soldiers would have no fatigue. At the same time they described
the people of Lokko as very powerful, and declared that I should require
nearly all my force, as very few troops would be now necessary to
protect my camp at Belinian, as we WERE ALL FRIENDS!
This kind regard for my military arrangements confirmed my suspicions.
It was intended to draw off the greater portion of the troops to a
distance, in company with the pretended allies. The attack was really to
be made on Lokko, but my troops were also to be overpowered when
unsuspectingly returning by a night march with the spoil. The cattle
captured from Lokko would then fall into the hands of Belinian, and my
camp, protected by a weak force, was to be surprised.
I pretended to enter into this scheme, but I expressed a doubt whether
they would perform their part of the engagement, and convey the corn
from Lokko to Gondokoro. This they declared emphatically they would do
without failing.
I proposed, that if they could convey such an enormous quantity so great
a distance from Lokko to Gondokoro, they should first prove their
fidelity by transporting the few hundred urdeps from our Belinian camp
to head-quarters. If they would assist us in this manner, they should be
paid for their trouble, and I should then believe in their sincerity. On
the other hand, if they refused, I should be perfectly certain that they
would also decline to transport the corn from Lokko, and that every
individual would merely scramble for spoil, and return to Belinian with
a load of plunder for his own use.
We should then be left at Lokko in a foolish position.
After much discussion, they promised to carry the corn to Gondokoro
before commencing operations against Lokko; but I at once perceived by
their manner, that they had not the slightest intention of performing
any such contract. They felt that their scheme had been found out.
Although Africans are notoriously cunning and treacherous, they have not
sufficient patience or self-sacrifice to enable them to carry out a
perfect scheme. If the Belinians had wished to succeed in their plan,
they should have willingly carried the corn to Gondokoro, and thus have
established confidence. In all my experience with African tribes, I have
observed this want of organization in their plans. Like ignorant
chess-players, they only think of the first few moves, and thus are at a
loss when suddenly checked.
Of course I had no intention of attacking Lokko, as I had no complaint
against him; and although a Bari, he was a chief who had always behaved
well to the Austrian missionaries. This portion of the Bari tribe,
instead of being sixteen miles, was at least thirty from the north of
Belinian, and was situated on the White Nile, where the sheik, Lokko,
was known to the traders as "Oom Nickla."
The following extracts from my journal will at once explain the state of
affairs. The natives had lost their chance, and feeling that their
treachery had been discovered, they never came to me again:--
"September 22, 1871.--No natives will come near us. Abou Saood arrived
with forty men to ask my permission that he might start for Khartoum.
"September 23.--The natives, disappointed in their trick, will have
nothing to say to us."
On the 25th September the natives treacherously attacked an unarmed
soldier. This man had strayed a few hundred yards from the camp, against
orders, to search for wild thyme. A native met him and accosted him by
the welcome "Adotto julio." The soldier advanced close, when the
treacherous Bari immediately shot an arrow into him. This passed through
his arm with such force that more than half the length of the arrow
protruded on the other side. The soldier shouted for help, and the Bari
decamped as he saw others running to the rescue.
On the same day, two women were attacked when they went to fetch water,
and their clothes were stolen by the natives.
On September 27, an artilleryman went to the river about 400 yards
distant to fetch water, alone. This was quite contrary to orders. The
thoughtless fellow left his musket on the bank while he descended to the
sandy bed, through which trickled a clear stream.
He was watched by the natives who were lying in wait, concealed by the
high dhurra. These rascals suddenly rushed out and speared him to death.
The man screamed so loudly before he died, that a number of soldiers
rushed to his assistance from the camp, but they were only in time to
bring in his body.
This was at 4 P.M., and I observed natives armed, who were hovering
about on all sides.
I sounded the bugle, and attacked them without delay, destroying several
stockades. It is impossible to come to any terms with such treacherous
people. In spite of my kindness and wish to do good and to benefit their
country, they requite me with the murder of any unarmed man whom they
can find.
"September 29.--I attacked a position on the mountain. Having fired
several rockets from the base, into a station about 350 feet above, I
ordered the troops to advance from two sides. My men scrambled quickly
up the rocks and destroyed the station.
"September 30.--A few days ago, the soldiers purposely burnt several
granaries full of corn, and threatened to kill Sherroom and Morgian, my
Bari interpreters, if they should report the act to me, saying, 'If the
corn is finished, we shall all go back to Khartoum.'"
"This proves that the old spirit against the expedition still exists.
The men take their cue from the officers."
In spite of the general discontent, I could place the greatest reliance
upon the "Forty Thieves" and their officers. This little corps performed
nearly all the active service. Their red shirts had become so well
known, that the colour was enough to keep the natives at a distance; but
although the Baris were now afraid to risk a stand-up fight, they
troubled us by their stealthy tactics. It was impossible to say where
they were concealed. They were spread all over the country: some hidden
in the tall dhurra, others behind bushes. Their favourite place was in
the grass and scattered bush on the banks of the river, where they lay
in wait for any unlucky soldier whose disobedience of orders led him to
tempt his fate.
It seemed almost as impossible to clear the country of these people, as
to purge Africa from snakes. Patrols were of little service, as the
natives lay as closely concealed as hares in form.
I determined at length to meet them with their own tactics:
They occupied the neighbourhood in ambush. . .I would also lie in
ambush. This system of ambuscade employed so generally by the Baris had
created a wholesome alarm among the troops, which tended to obedience.
They now began to appreciate the orders that no one should stray alone
from the camp, and that the watering party should consist of a powerful
guard. At the same time, the surprises that had occurred had somewhat
shaken their confidence.
I called the "Forty Thieves" together. These fine fellows always took
a great interest in their work.
I explained to them the difficulty of fighting against an enemy whose
tactics would not permit a battle; at the same time, I should now
operate against them somewhat upon their own principle; by establishing
a series of sharpshooters who should occupy the neighbourhood, and
render it impossible for the Baris to remain in the country.
My corps was now complete, as I had brought up those who had remained at
Gondokoro; I had thus forty-eight officers and men. To this force I now
added fifty selected men from the line, and marched them away from camp.
Upon arrival at the broad bed of the river, I explained to them the
plan. The natives generally approached unperceived by means of this
winding trench, which entirely concealed them. The banks of this river
were in most places nearly perpendicular, and were about nine feet deep.
The river was about sixty or seventy paces broad, and was nearly dry, as
a very shallow stream flowed through the centre of its bed.
If the high banks were occupied for a distance of several miles by small
parties of sharpshooters concealed in high dhurra, or behind an
ant-hill, or crouched in high grass or bush, or in anything that would
serve as a protection, it would be impossible for the Baris to approach
by the favourite river-bed, without being exposed to a deadly fire from
the long line of sentries.
I therefore selected a position commencing far beyond my line of posts,
and entirely commanding the river-bed for a distance of several miles.
The soldiers were delighted with the plan suggested. I arranged that
before daylight on the following morning, they should occupy the
positions assigned in parties of two men if sniders, or three if
muskets, at intervals of one hundred paces; thus the country would be
protected by a chain of guards perfectly concealed from view.
I gave orders to the officers commanding the two stockades to carry out
this system throughout the neighbourhood, so that it would be impossible
for any enemy to move without falling into an ambuscade.
At daybreak I was up, and as usual drank my coffee and smoked the
morning pipe. At that time my wife and I occupied a tent outside the
stockade, beneath the most magnificent tamarind-tree that I have ever
seen. From this spot we had a clear view of the country. On the west of
the plain, two miles distant, rose the mountain of Belinian. On the east
was park-like land interspersed with fine ornamental timber, through
which the river winded. For about a hundred acres around the camp, the
high dhurra had been cut down; therefore the view was uninterrupted.
Everything was perfectly still at this early hour; the birds were only
beginning to chirp, and the vultures were just lazily assembling to see
if they could discover one more morsel at the slaughtering-place of the
preceding day.
No one would have suspected that the entire neighbourhood was occupied
by sharpshooters, for a distance of some miles. The wily Baris had
delighted in their leopard-like tactics, which had given them several
opportunities of inflicting loss upon the troops. They now commenced
their daily occupation, and started in small but numerous parties from
their distant villages, for the purpose of waylaying any stragglers. The
sun rose, and with my telescope I observed natives about half a mile
distant on the other side of the river; sometimes these people
disappeared in the high dhurra; every now and then they reappeared; then
again they were lost to view. They were stealthily approaching for the
purpose of occupying their positions for concealment. These wily Baris
imagined that we were, as usual, keeping on the alert around the camp,
but they had no idea that the leopard was himself so near the hidden
snare.
Suddenly a puff of white smoke shot rip from the bright green grass on
the other side of the river-bed--then another, followed by the reports
of two rifles! I saw natives running at full speed to the left. Another
and another puff of smoke issued from a different quarter, as the
astonished Baris in their hasty retreat stumbled over the next
ambuscade. I now saw a native running like a deer, but chased like a
good deerhound by one of the "Forty Thieves." The native was so hard
pressed by this good runner, who was encumbered with clothes, rifle, and
ammunition, that he had been obliged to throw away his bow and arrows,
together with his lance. He now gained upon the soldier slightly, but
they were not five paces apart when they disappeared in the high dhurra.
That soldier was Ali Nedjar, of the "Forty Thieves," the strongest man,
the best shot, and the fleetest runner of the force. Presently I heard a
shot.
Throughout that day occasional shots were heard in every conceivable
quarter. I took a walk through the country, attended by a few of my men,
and upon several occasions I was challenged from a bush, or tump of high
grass, showing that the men were all in position and well concealed.
When the bugle recalled the sharpshooters in the evening, each had some
adventure to recount, and the whole camp rejoiced in the success of the
manoeuvre; it was a case of "the biter bit."
The men now looked forward to this employment, and starting at daybreak,
they took their supply of food for the day.
Some of them were very clever at this kind of service, especially Ali
Nedjar. Ali was a native of Bongo--a broad-shouldered, muscular fellow,
with thighs like a grasshopper. It was a pleasure to see him run, and to
witness the immense power and speed with which he passed all competitors
in the prize races, in which I sometimes indulged my men. Ali Nedjar was
a good soldier, a warm lover of the girls, and a great dancer; thus,
according to African reputation, he was the ne plus ultra of a man.
Added to this, he was a very willing, good fellow, and more courageous
than a lion.
I had several men of Ali Nedjar's stamp in "The Forty," among which were
the three Ferritch--Ferritch Agha Suachli, Ferritch Ajoke (formerly
condemned to be shot), and Ferritch Baggara; and it may be easily
imagined that a corps composed of such material was an awkward enemy for
the Baris.
After a few days, the ground became almost too hot for the natives. They
now ascended high trees, from which they could survey the country and
direct the movements of their scouts. Ali Nedjar was too much for them
even with this precaution. He had observed them like rooks in a large
tree at a great distance. The tree grew wild in a field of high dhurra,
and while the wily Baris were looking out from their lofty post,
expecting to discover us in the distance, the still more wily Ali Nedjar
had crept on hands and knees through the corn, and was actually beneath
the tree!
The report of a snider rifle under their feet, and the fall of one of
their party, was the first intimation they received of the soldier's
presence.
This plan of occupying the country was most successful, and in a short
time the Baris entirely abandoned the neighbourhood. They confessed
afterwards, that it was useless to attempt to fight with such people, as
the earth was full of soldiers who sprang up out of the ground beneath
their feet.
We had been thirty-five days at Belinian, and the enemy had been
entirely subdued. I explained to them my determination of paying them
another visit should we ever be disturbed again at Gondokoro; thus if
they wished for peace, they must remain quiet.
The soldiers and sailors, including all the women of the camp, were
employed for some days in conveying the corn to head-quarters. If our
people had worked well, we should have had a supply for twelve months.
Instead of which, a force of 650 men had actually delivered in the
magazine only 150 urdeps, or about 670 bushels.
I have naturally omitted many military incidents, and have only given an
outline of the Belinian campaign, but the moral effect was good on all
sides. The soldiers had learnt their own superiority to the natives, and
had gained experience and confidence; and the Baris of Belinian had
learnt the truth: and in future we should sleep in peace at
head-quarters.