THE ADVANCE SOUTH.
Military critics will condemn my arrangements for an advance south.
My original plans had been well laid. A line of fortified posts was to
have been established throughout the country at intervals of three days'
march. This would have assured an open communication with Gondokoro.
Unfortunately, my force had been 350 men short of the number stipulated;
and the 1,200 men that had once been reviewed at Gondokoro had been
reduced to 500.
I could not leave a smaller force at head-quarters than 340 men,
including the 52 sailors; thus I was left with only 212 officers and men
to commence a long and uncertain journey directly away from my base,
without the power of communication in the event of unforeseen
difficulty.
I had already experienced the treachery of natives, upon whom no
reliance could be placed.
My intention was to leave the Englishmen, with the steamer sections, at
a station to be formed at Ibrahimeyeh (Afuddo on the map) on the
navigable Nile, N. lat. 3 degrees 32 minutes, together with a small
garrison.
I should then endeavour to form an irregular corps of some of Abou
Saood's men, who would be thrown out of employment at the expiration of
the contract. This was near at hand.
An irregular corps of 600 men would, in addition to my 200, enable me to
complete the annexation of the country, and to finish my work before the
reinforcements should arrive from Khartoum.
On the other hand, the men of Abou Saood might refuse to enlist in
government service. Already they had been rendered passively hostile by
the influence of Abou Saood. They had secretly encouraged the Baris in
their war against the government; they might repeat this conduct, and
incite the tribes against us in the interior.
Should this occur, I should be placed in a dangerous position with so
small a force, as it would be necessary to detach half the little body
to march to Gondokoro for supports.
I could not defer my departure in the hope of receiving reinforcements
from Khartoum, as their arrival would be quite uncertain, owing to the
state of the river.
Should I delay at Gondokoro, the dry season would pass by; the ground,
now baked hard by the sun, would become soft, and would render transport
by carts impossible.
The torrents would become impassable during the rains, especially the
river Asua, which in the wet season cuts off all communication with the
south. This dangerous river was very important, as it would prevent a
retreat should such a movement be necessary during the rainy season.
I was well aware of the difficulties of the position, but I had only the
choice of two evils. If I remained at Gondokoro, my term of service
would expire fruitlessly. I should simply have reduced the Baris, and
have established the station. Abou Saood would remain in the interior
among his numerous slave establishments, to ridicule my impotence, and
to defy my orders that he should quit the country. He would thus
continue in the heart of Africa until I should have returned helplessly
to England. He would then have resumed his original work of spoliation.
The expedition would have been a failure.
On the other hand, should my small force meet with defeat or
destruction, both the military and the civil world would exclaim, "Serve
him right! the expedition to the interior made under such circumstances
showed a great want of judgment; a total ignorance of the first rules in
military tactics. What could he expect, without an established
communication, at a distance of three or four hundred miles from his
base? Simple madness !--not fit to command!" &c. &c. &c.
I knew the risks and the responsibility; but if I remained passive, I
should be beaten. I had often got through difficulties, and if risks are
to be measured in Africa by ordinary calculations, there would be little
hope of progress.
I determined to carry as large a supply of ammunition as could be
transported, together with sufficient merchandise, carefully assorted,
to establish a legitimate ivory trade in my old friend Kamrasi's
country, Unyoro (The Unyoro country is called by the traders
"Magungo.")
The Englishmen would be occupied in the construction of the steamer at
Ibrahimeyeh, while I should accomplish my mission farther south.
I selected my officers and men, carefully avoiding Egyptian officers,
with the exception of my true friends and aides-de-camp,
Lieutenant-Colonel Abd-el-Kader, Captain Mohammed Deii of the "Forty
Thieves," and the faithful Monsoor.
The Soudani officers that had served in Mexico under Marshal Bazaine
were--Major Abdullah; Captain Morgian Sherriff; Captain Abdullah;
Lieutenants Morgian and Ferritch; and several sergeants, corporals, &c.
I also included three sailors belonging to my diahbeeah, as they would
be useful in the event of boating excursions. These men were Jali,
Mohammed, and Howarti; all of whom were armed, and fell into the line of
rank and file as soldiers.
The No. 3 steamer had been packed with much care. The carts had been
loaded with the heavy portions that could not be transported by
carriers, and we had proved our capability of travelling provided the
Baris of Bedden would remain faithful to their promise. Every cart had
therefore been dismounted, and the material for the expedition was
stowed on board six vessels.
Our servants had much improved. The negro boys who had been liberated
had grown into most respectable lads, and had learned to wait at table
and to do all the domestic work required. First of the boys in
intelligence was the Abyssinian, Amarn. This delicate little fellow was
perfectly civilized, and always looked forward to accompanying his
mistress to England. The next was Saat, who had received that name in
memory of my good boy who died during my former voyage. Saat was a very
fine, powerful lad, who was exceedingly attached to me; but he was not
quick at learning. Bellaal was a thick-set, sturdy boy of fourteen, with
rather a savage disposition.
My favourite was Kinyon (the crocodile), the volunteer.
This was a very handsome negro boy of the Bari tribe, who, being an
orphan, came to my station, and volunteered to serve me at the
commencement of the Bari war.
Kinyon was tall and slight, with a pair of very large, expressive eyes.
The name Kinyon, or crocodile in the Bari language, had been given him
because he was long and thin. Both he and Amarn were thoroughly good
boys, and never received either chastisement or even a scolding
throughout a long expedition.
Jarvah was also a good lad, who went by the name of the "fat boy." I
should like to have exhibited him at Exeter Hall as a specimen of
physical comfort.
Jarvah had a good berth--he was cook's mate. His superior was a great
character, who, from the low position of a slave presented by the King
of the Shillooks, Quat Kare, had risen from cook's mate to the most
important position of the household.
Abdullah was now the cook! He had studied the culinary art under my
first-rate Arab cook, who, having received his discharge, left the
management of our stomachs to his pupil. Abdullah was an excellent cook
and a very good fellow; but he was dull at learning Arabic. He
invariably distinguished cocks and hens as "bulls" and "women."
The last and the smallest boy of the household was little Cuckoo (or
Kookoo).
Cuckoo was a sturdy child of about six years old: this boy had, I
believe, run away from his parents in the Bari during the war, and had
come to Morgian our interpreter, when food was scarce among the tribe.
Following the dictates of his appetite, he had been attracted by the
savoury smell of Abdullah's kitchen, and he had drawn nearer and nearer
to our establishment, until at length by playing with the boys, and
occasionally being invited to share in their meals, Cuckoo had become
incorporated with the household.
Abdullah and the six boys formed the native domestic corps. My wife, who
was their commanding officer, had them all dressed in uniform. They had
various suits of short, loose trousers reaching half-way down the calf
of the leg, with a shirt or blouse secured at the waist with a leather
belt and buckle. These belts were made in England, and were about six
feet long; thus they passed twice round the waist, and were very useful
when travelling, in case of a strap and buckle being required suddenly.
Each boy wore the fez or tarboosh. The uniforms were very becoming.
There was dark blue trimmed with red facings; pure white with red
facings, for high days and holidays; scarlet flannel suits complete; and
a strong cotton suit dyed brown for travelling and rough wear.
The boys were trained to change their clothes before they waited at the
dinner table, and to return to their working dresses after dinner when
washing up was necessary. In this habit they were rigidly particular,
and every boy then tied his dinner suit in a parcel, and suspended it to
the roof of his hut to be ready for the next meal.
There was a regular hour for every kind of work, and this domestic
discipline had so far civilized the boys that they were of the greatest
possible comfort to ourselves.
The washing up after dinner was not a very long operation, as half a
dozen plates and the same number of knives and forks, with a couple of
dishes, were divided among six servants.
Directly after this work, play was allowed. If the night were moonlight,
the girls were summoned, and dancing commenced. During the day, their
games were either playing at soldiers, or throwing lances at marks, &c.
Thieving was quite unknown among the boys, all of whom were scrupulously
honest. The sugar might be left among them, or even milk; but none of
the boys I have mentioned would have condescended to steal. They had
been so well instructed and cared for by my wife, that in many ways they
might have been excellent examples for lads of their class in England.
The girls and women did not appear to so much advantage. These comprised
old Karka, young Dam Zeneb, Sallaamto, Fad-el-Kereem, Marrasilla, and
Faddeela. They had learnt to wash, but could never properly fold the
linen. Ironing and starching were quite out of the question, and would
have been as impossible to them as algebra. Some of these girls were
rather pretty, and they knew it. In moral character Dam Zeneb and
Sallaamto were the best. Fad-el-Kereem was the most intelligent, but she
was a young woman of strong passions, either for love or war, and
required peculiar management.
They were all dressed in similar uniforms to the boys, with only a
slight difference in the length of their blouses.
We had sent little Mostoora to the care of Djiaffer Pacha at Khartoum to
be educated, before we left Tewfikeeyah. That clever little creature had
learnt English and Arabic sufficiently to converse, and although not far
removed from infancy, she was more intelligent than any of the adults.
She was much too young for a long voyage . . . Everything was ready for
the start. I left written instructions with the colonel, Raouf Bey, also
with Mr. Higginbotham, respecting the conduct of the works during my
absence. I also gave the necessary orders to Mr. Marcopolo; thus all
heads of departments knew their positions.
I sent off a detachment of 150 men to drive a herd of several thousand
cattle and sheep to a well-known rocky ravine, about six miles south,
which was to be the rendezvous.
Before leaving, I made rather a pretty shot with the "Dutchman" from the
poop-deck of my diahbeeah at a crocodile basking on a sand-bank. The
first shot through the shoulder completely paralyzed it. A second bullet
from the left-hand barrel struck only three inches from the first.
Lieutenant Baker determined to measure the distance; thus he took the
boat with the end of a long line, and we found it exactly 176 yards.
The "Dutchman" was the best rifle I ever shot with, and was quite
invaluable throughout the expedition.
I had served out a month's rations to the men, and my last instructions
to Raouf Bey were to look well after Livingstone, and provide for his
comfort should he appear during my absence.
On 22nd January, 1872, we started at 8 a.m., when I took leave of my
good friend and excellent engineer-in-chief, Mr. Edwin Higginbotham. I
little thought that we should never meet again.
The wind was light and variable, and my diahbeeah soon overtook the
heavier vessels. In the evening we all joined and concentrated our
forces at the rocky ravine, with the detachment that protected the
cattle.
On the following day, the 23rd January, we all started in excellent
spirits. The soldiers knew the country, and every one appeared to share
the enjoyment of adventure. The people had learnt to depend upon my
guidance, and although the interior of the country was unknown to them,
they were quite contented that I had had a personal experience of the
far south, and they were safe in my hands.
The stream was very powerful, and the wind was so variable that it was
necessary to tow the vessels. This would have been easy work if the
river had been deep in all parts, but unfortunately the water was rather
low, and many extensive sandbanks necessitated long detours.
The men were then obliged to wade hip-deep, and to tow the vessels round
the banks.
I never saw the people in such high spirits. They were not contented
with a walking pace, but they raced with each other, splashing through
the water, and hurrying round the points of the sand-banks, until they
once more reached dry ground. Then even the women and boys jumped
ashore, and laying hold of the tow-rope, joined the men in singing; and
running forward along the hard bank they made the diahbeeah surge
through the water.
This fun had continued for some hours, and I rejoiced that all hearts
seemed to have at length united in the work. I had no fanatics with me.
The black officers were excellent fellows now that they were relieved
from a certain influence at head-quarters. Abd-el-Kader was as true as
gold. Monsoor was a Christian,--and my "Forty Thieves" were stanch,
brave fellows who would go through fire.
Ali Nedjar was, as usual, revelling in strength and activity, and was
now foremost in the work of towing the diahbeeah.
A sudden bend in the river had caused a small sand-bank. It was
necessary to descend from the high shore to tow the vessel round the
promontory.
Men, women, and children, jumped down and waded along the edge of the
bank.
As the diahbeeah turned the sharp point, I noticed that the water was
exceedingly deep close to the sand-bank, and the stream was running like
a mill race.
Fearing some accident to the children, I ordered all who could not swim
to come on board the diahbeeah. At that time the bow of the vessel was
actually touching the sand, but the stern, having swung out in the
stream, might have been about fifteen feet from the edge of the bank in
very deep water.
When the order was given to come on board, many of the people, in the
ebullition of spirits, leapt heedlessly into the water amidships,
instead of boarding the vessel by the fore part, which touched the sand.
These were dragged on board with considerable difficulty.
The boy Saat would have been drowned had not Monsoor saved him. In the
confusion, when several were struggling in the water, I noticed Ali
Nedjar, who could not swim, battling frantically with his hands in such
a manner that I saw the poor fellow had lost his head. He was not three
feet from the vessel's side.
My four life-buoys were hung on open hooks at the four corners of the
poop-deck; thus, without one moment's delay, I dropped a buoy almost
into his hands. This he immediately seized with both arms, and I, of
course, thought he was safe: the buoy naturally canted up as he first
clutched it, and, instead of holding on, to my astonishment he
relinquished his grasp!
The next moment the strong current had hurried the buoyant safeguard far
away. A red tarboosh followed the life-buoy, floating near it on the
surface. . . . . . Ali Nedjar was gone!--drowned! He never rose again.
. . .
I was dreadfully shocked at the loss of my good soldier--he had been
much beloved by us all. We could hardly believe that he was really gone
for ever. Who would now lead the song in the moonlight nights? or be the
first in every race?
I had quickly thrown every life-buoy into the river, as Howarti,
Mohammed, and others of the best swimmers had vainly plunged after Ali,
and were now searching fruitlessly for his body, carried away by the
powerful current. The boat was sent after them immediately, and they
were brought on board.
The mirth of the diahbeeah had vanished; the general favourite had so
suddenly disappeared from among us, that no one spoke, The women sat
down and cried.
His knapsack and rifle were brought to me, and a list having been taken
of his clothes and ammunition, I cut his name, "Ali," upon the stock of
his snider, which I reserved for the best man I should be able to
select. There was no better epitaph for so good a soldier than his name
engraved on his trusty rifle.
That evening every one was sad, and my people all refused their
food. . . .
On the following day, the wind and stream being adverse, we had much
trouble in avoiding the sand-banks, and our progress was so slow that we
only reached the base of the rocky hill Regiaf. Here I resolved to wait
for the heavier vessels, which were far behind.
The natives were now friendly, and on the 25th January, Lieutenant Baker
accompanied me to the summit of Regiaf to take observations of compass
bearings of all the various mountains and prominent points of the
country.
At the western base of Regiaf there is a very curious rock supported
upon a pedestal, that forms a gigantic table.
This great slab of syenite is one of many that have detached and fallen
as the original mountain decomposed.
I obtained my measuring tape from the diahbeeah, which gave the
following results:--
Feet. Inches.
Length of slab . . . . . . . . . 45 4
Breadth of slab . . . . . . . . 45 8
Thickness of slab . . . . . . . 4 9
Height from ground . . . . . . . 10 5
Circumference of clay pedestal . 69 0
This rock must have chanced to fall upon a mass of extremely hard clay.
The denudation of the sloping surface, caused by the heavy rains of many
centuries, must be equal to the present height of the clay pedestal, as
all the exterior has been washed away and the level reduced. The clay
pedestal is the original earth, which, having been protected from the
weather by the stone roof, remains intact.
The Baris seemed to have some reverence for this stone, and we were told
that it was dangerous to sleep beneath it, as many people who had tried
the experiment had died.
I believe this superstition is simply the result of some old legends
concerning the death of a person who may have been killed in his sleep,
by a stone that probably detached and fell from the under surface of the
slab.
I examined the rock carefully, and found many pieces that gave warning
of scaling off. Several large flakes, each weighing some hundredweight,
lay beneath the table rock,-upon the under surface of which could be
distinctly traced the mould of the detached slab.
On 27th January, we arrived with all the vessels at the foot of the
cataracts, in N. lat. 4 degrees 38'. This is a very lovely spot, as the
rocky islands are covered with rich, green forest; the verdure being
perpetual, as the roots of the trees are well nourished by water.
Our old friend Bedden met us with a number of his people, and came on
board the diahbeeah. He professed to be quite ready to convey our
baggage to the south, and I proposed that his people should go as far as
Lobore, about sixty miles from this spot, where I knew we could procure
carriers, as during my former journey the natives of Lobore were the
only people who could be depended upon.
Bedden seemed determined to help us, and I really believed that our luck
had arrived at last, and that I should be able to convey the carts,
together with the steamer, to the navigable portion of the Nile in N.
lat. 3 degrees 32'.
I determined to be very civil to the great sheik, Bedden; I therefore
arranged with him that the work should be entirely in his hands, and
that he should represent the government as my vakeel. At the same time,
I gave him a grand cloak of purple and silver tissue, together with a
tin helmet, and turban of cobalt-blue serge; also a looking-glass, and a
quantity of beads of various colours.
The country was dried up, and there was only scant herbage for my large
herd of cattle, the half of which I promised to give Bedden if he would
carry our baggage to Lobore.
The sheik returned to his village to make arrangements with his people
for the journey.
Somehow or other, as he took leave and marched off in his grand cloak of
silver and purple, I had certain misgivings of his sincerity.
Although great numbers of natives thronged the country, and came down to
the vessels, there was not one woman or child. The absence of women and
children is a sure sign of evil intentions. My wife, whose experience
was equal to my own, at once expressed her suspicions. Had the natives
been honest and sincere, their women would assuredly have come to visit
her from simple curiosity.
Not only was there an absence of women and children, but the cattle had
been driven from the country. There were several small cattle zareebas
within half a mile of the vessels, situated upon the high ground. I went
to visit them, as though simply strolling for my amusement; the dung of
cattle was fresh, showing that the zareebas had been occupied during the
past night, but the herd had evidently been driven far away.
Bedden's people had never been attacked by the slave-traders, as his
tribe was considered too powerful; he had therefore no cause for
suspicion.
Unfortunately, my past experience of the Bari natives had proved that
kindness was thrown away upon them, and that nothing could be done with
them until their inferiority had been proved by force of arms.
Bedden had never suffered. He had promised to assist; but no promise of
a native is worth more than the breath of his mouth. If he failed me
now, the object of my enterprise would be lost. I should not be able to
move.
All my care and trouble would have been thrown away.
I was very anxious; but, without mentioning my suspicions, I ordered all
the heavy vessels to cross over to the east side of the river, to
prepare for disembarking the carts and general effects.
On the following morning the sheik, Bedden, arrived to visit me, with
many of his people. I had erected a tent on shore in which I could
receive him.
I was struck with a peculiar change in his manner, and after a short
conversation he asked me, "Why I had sent the vessels to the east side?"
I replied that they would begin to unload and prepare for the journey.
"Who is going to carry all your baggage?" continued Bedden, as though
the idea had occurred to him for the first time.
I was perfectly aghast at this cool and prostrating question. My
suspicions had been well founded.
I explained to Bedden that I had arrived according to his express
invitation, given some time before, when he had promised that his men
should convey my things as far as Lobore. I pretended that his question
had now been asked simply to amuse me, and I begged him in earnest to
lose no time in collecting his people, as I should require at least
2,000 carriers.
Bedden continued in a cold, stoical manner, and declared that his people
were determined not to work for me; they had never before carried for
"The Turks," and nothing would induce them to engage in such a labour.
I begged him to remember the importance of his promise, upon which I had
depended when making all my arrangements for the journey. If he failed
me now, I should be entirely ruined; whereas if he assisted me, as I had
relied upon his honour, we should always remain the firmest friends, and
he would be benefited by a grand herd of cattle, and would receive most
valuable presents.
He now declared "that his people had taken the matter into
consideration, and they were quite determined. They would not listen to
him, or be persuaded to anything they disliked. They never had carried,
and they never would."
I had the two natives with me who had resided for some time in our
station at Gondokoro. One of these men, named Pittia, endeavoured to
persuade Bedden to beat his nogara (big drum) and to summon his tribe;
he might then, in my presence, explain the work proposed, and his people
would see the cows which they would receive as payment for their labour.
Bedden looked very ill at his ease; but after some delay, he rose from
his seat, and declared his intention of immediately beating his nogara.
He took leave and departed with his people.
From my experience of Baris, I felt sure that I should never see Bedden
again.
He had hardly left the tent, when Pittia exclaimed, "I will follow him
and listen to what he says to his people. I believe he will tell them
NOT to carry the loads." Pittia immediately disappeared.
Many natives had collected on the east side of the river, where my
vessels had now formed a line alone the bank; I therefore crossed over
in the dingy to converse with them in the faint hope of securing
carriers.
The natives were squatting about in small groups, and they listened
coldly to all I had to say. The only answer I could obtain was, "that
they belonged to Bedden, and if he told them to carry our things, they
would obey; but without his order they could do nothing."
This is the regular African diplomacy when work is required. The people
say, "We must receive orders from our sheik." The sheik says, "I am
willing, but my people will not obey me." It is this passive resistance
that may ruin an expedition.
My first exploration in Africa must necessarily have failed had I not
been provided with transport animals. The readers of "The Albert
N'yanza" may remember that I could not obtain a single native, and that
I started from Gondokoro by moonlight without even an interpreter or
guide.
The horrible state of the White Nile had prevented all possibility of
conveying camels from Khartoum. My carts and camel harness were
prepared, but the invaluable animals could not be transported. I was
thus dependent upon such rotten reeds as native promises.
No one who is inexperienced in African travel can realize the hopeless
position of being left with a mass of material without any possibility
of transporting it.
The traveller may sit upon his box until he stiffens into a monument of
patience and despair, but the box will not move without a carrier. There
is only one method of travelling successfully, and this necessitates the
introduction of transport animals, where the baggage is heavy and upon
an extensive scale.
I felt perfectly helpless. My colonel, Abd-el-Kader, advised me to seize
the sheik, Bedden, and to tie him up until his people should have
delivered all the effects at Lobore.
This I might have done, but it might also have occasioned war, which
would prevent the possibility of securing carriers. I should also incur
the responsibility of having provoked the war by an act which, although
necessary, could hardly be justified according to civilized ideas.
I had very little hope, but I had so frequently seen a sudden ray of
good fortune when all had looked dark and cloudy, that I went to bed at
night trusting that something might turn up in our favour to-morrow.
On 29th January, 1872, Pittia returned with bad news. Bedden had sent me
a laconic message that "he should not call again, and that his people
declined to carry the baggage."
Pittia explained that the natives had all left the neighbourhood
together with their sheik, therefore it would be well not to allow the
soldiers to stray far from camp.
This was the gross ingratitude exhibited by Bedden and his people. Not
only had I scrupulously respected all their property, but I had even
placed sentries over their tobacco gardens to prevent the possibility of
theft.
The absence of the women and children had been a certain sign of
ill-will.
It was necessary to consider what should be done. We were perfectly
helpless.
I had about 2,500 head of cattle and 1,800 sheep. These animals were
driven every evening to the margin of the river, and were only protected
at night by a line of soldiers who slept around them.
The conduct of the natives filled me with suspicions. The sight of so
large a herd without protection might have excited their cupidity. They
had expected my arrival with this grand supply of cattle, and instead of
finding their villages occupied, I had observed that their own herds had
been driven off for concealment; not a woman or child was to be seen in
the country; the natives had refused to carry; and, lastly, their sheik
and his people had absolutely absconded.
In the mean time my cattle were unprotected at night, thus, should the
natives make a sudden attack in the darkness, there would be a regular
stampede, as the large herd would be seized with a panic at the red
flashes of the muskets during the attack, and they would scatter all
over the country, and never be seen again.
The natives had probably considered that, instead of carrying our loads,
and thereby earning a cow per man, it might save them much trouble
should they possess themselves of our cattle without the necessity of
carrying the baggage.
From my knowledge of the brutal character of all Baris, I arrived at the
above conclusion.
I at once gave orders to secure the cattle. At a distance of about half
a mile, there were three small villages on the high sloping ground,
situated about eighty yards apart, and forming a triangle. I instructed
my men to make an inclosure, by connecting each village with a strong
hedge of thorns.
The country was generally bare of trees, but fortunately there was a
grove of heglik not far distant; and the troops at once began to fell
these trees, and to form fences by laying the prickly branches in the
position I had selected.
The "Forty Thieves" were all provided with small and sharp Canada axes,
which they carried under the strap of their knapsacks; thus forty-eight
axes were at work, in addition to the heavier instruments belonging to
the expedition.
All the officers and men shared my suspicions, and they worked with
great alacrity.
It was just dark by the time that the three fences were completed, and
the herd of cattle were driven and secured within the inclosure.
I arranged a guard of sixty men: twenty upon each side of the triangle.
They were to remain outside the fence, and to keep a vigilant look-out.
This work being over, I returned at night to the diahbeeah together with
Lieutenant Baker. We found dinner ready on the poop-deck, where my wife
had been rather anxiously expecting us. I sent for Colonel Abd-el-Kader,
and gave him the necessary orders for the night.
My diahbeeah was a charming vessel, that had originally been sent from
Cairo to Khartoum, when the former Viceroy of Egypt, Said Pacha, visited
the Soudan.
The poop-deck was lofty and very spacious. This comfortable boat had
been my home for two years, and she was kept in admirable order.
There were no mosquitoes during this season in Bedden's country,
although they were very numerous at all seasons at Gondokoro, therefore,
being relieved from these pests, the enjoyment of the evening was
delightful.
The night was calm, as usual in these latitudes. Dinner was concluded. I
was enjoying my evening chibouque with the best Ghebbelli tobacco, that
soothes many anxieties. The troops were for the most part asleep, and
all was quiet. My wife was sitting on the sofa or divan, and Lieutenant
Baker had been recalling some reminiscence of the navy, when several
musket shots in the direction of the cattle kraal suddenly startled
every soldier from his sleep.
The shots were almost immediately succeeded by heavy firing from the
whole force stationed at the cattle zareeba. The bugles sounded the
alarm, and every man was quickly under arms.
Having arranged the men in position to defend the vessels in case of a
general attack, I took twenty men of the "Forty Thieves," together with
a supply of rockets. I was accompanied by Lieutenant Baker and most of
the Englishmen, and we pushed rapidly forward towards the cattle
zareeba, where the flashes of muskets were distinctly visible.
As we approached the position, I ordered my bugler to sound "cease
firing," as I expected to receive a few bullets intended for the enemy.
We were quickly challenged upon arrival at the zareeba. We found the
cattle all safe; only a few sheep had been killed by the heavy attempt
at a stampede when the cows took fright at the musketry.
I was informed that the natives in considerable force had made a sudden
rush upon the zareeba, and had thrown showers of stones in order to
create a panic among the cattle, which they expected would break through
the fence and scatter over the country.
It was fortunate that I had taken the precaution of securing them.
I was determined to clear the neighbourhood before the attack should be
renewed. The night was dark. I was provided with matches and port-fires,
and I quickly made an excursion and sent several rockets into the
nearest villages. The Hale's rockets, as usual, rushed through the
houses without igniting them; but a few of the powerful Egyptian rockets
that are used as fireworks, rapidly lighted up the scene, as the
descending fire-balls ignited the thatched roofs.
These rockets were fired from an inclined rest of a soldier's fixed
bayonet.
Having cleared the neighbourhood, I returned to the diahbeeah at
midnight.
I find this entry in my journal:-
"January 29, 1872.-All the googoos or granaries abound with corn. The
natives are so rich, both in dhurra and cattle, that they will not work,
but they are only ready to sleep or steal. After all my kindness, they
have wantonly attacked my cattle without the plea either of hunger or
provocation.
"What can be accomplished with such people? I shall be obliged to return
the steamer to Ismailia (Gondokoro). It is heartbreaking work after all
my trouble in having brought her to this distant point.
"Nothing can be done without camels, and these animals cannot be
brought from Khartoum in the closed state of the river.
"My original plan included 200 camels, 200 cavalry, and fifteen large
decked sloops. None of these necessary items have been sent from
Khartoum, thus I am paralyzed."