NO MEDICAL MEN.
The death of the unfortunate Dr. Gedge, my chief medical officer at
Tewfikeeyah, added to the retirement of one of the Egyptian surgeons
from Gondokoro, had left me with so weak a medical staff that I had been
unable to take a doctor from head-quarters. I therefore was compelled to
perform all necessary operations myself, and to attend personally upon
the wounded men. In the late encounter, although I had not actually lost
a soldier, seven were badly wounded. One had a broken thigh, and the
bullet remained in the leg. Two had smashed ankle-joints, in one of
which the ball remained fixed among the bones. Some of the prisoners
were also wounded and one shortly died.
Wat-el-Mek's hand was much lacerated, in addition to the loss of the
middle finger.
I dressed all the wounds with a weak solution of carbolic acid. After
some trouble, I extracted the bullet from the broken thigh, and set the
bone. (This man was one of "The Forty"; and about two months after the
wound he was again on duty, and only slightly lame.)
Wat-el-Mek had two excellent English double-barrelled guns. That
destroyed by the "Dutchman" was a gun by Blissett of London, which had
been given to him by Captain Speke when he parted at Gondokoro: the
other was my own old gun, that I had given to Ibrahim when I travelled
with him during my first journey in Africa.
On the 3rd August I took evidence against Abou Saood. Mohammed
Wat-el-Mek, and a prisoner named Besheer, who was an officer in the same
company, both swore upon the Koran, that in firing at me "they had only
obeyed the orders of Abou Saood, who had instructed them to attack me
and the government troops should I attempt to interfere with their
proceedings."
Wat-el-Mek declared upon oath that he had always wished to serve me, but
he had been prevented by Abou Saood and others; and he had now been
rightly punished. This, he said, was "God's hand." He had been in
countless fights with natives during many years, and he was possessed of
powerful charms and spells, including numerous verses from the Koran
suspended from his arms: these had always protected him until the day
when he had raised his hand against the government. His charms had at
once failed him, and he had lost both his finger and the gun with which
he had fired at me.
My officers and soldiers really believed that I had purposely cut his
finger off, and smashed his gun by a rifle shot, to prove to him what I
could accomplish with a rifle; and thus to warn a man who would be
useful to me, instead of killing him.
Wat-el-Mek now offered to swear upon the Koran fidelity and allegiance
if I would pardon him; and he would at once prove his sincerity by
raising an irregular corps.
This man was a curious character; his superstitious nature had been
seized with the conviction that his present position was a special
visitation of divine wrath. He was a courageous fellow, and he knew the
country and the natives better than any man living. I had always wished
to engage his services, and I considered this an excellent opportunity.
The officers now begged me to forgive him. He was led away to a stream
of clear water, where he went through the process of washing with a cake
of soap, which was sorely needed. He was then dressed in clean clothes
that were lent to him for that purpose, and the Koran was brought and
laid open at a particular passage.
Placing his wounded hand upon the page, he repeated with great devotion
the formal oath. (Wat-el-Mek always behaved well from that time.)
I now gave him a few words of good advice, encouraging his preconceived
idea that God had chastised him specially, and that the future would
depend upon his own conduct.
Having thus secured this valuable man, whom I had always wished to
engage at the commencement of the expedition, there was much to be done,
and it will be necessary to make a few extracts from my journal that
will better explain the position:--
"August 5, 1872.--I ought to hang Abou Saood, but much diplomacy is
necessary. The rebels in their three stations, Fabbo, Faloro, and
Farragenia number about 600, exclusive of armed Baris.
"I have with me 146 men, including officers. Should I raise the whole
country, the difficulty would be to prevent the natives from
exterminating Abou Saood and the whole of his forces. Should such an
event occur, how should I be able to occupy this extensive country with
so small a force? I have lately had a painful lesson in the treachery of
Kabba Rega, who, when I had relieved him of his enemies, the
slave-traders, immediately turned against ME. These natives might
probably do the same. Negroes respect nothing but force; and the force
that now exists, if removed, will leave them free to act against the
government. Already they have benefited by the fight with the
slave-hunters, by running off with the arms and ammunition, together
with a number of cattle, while our troops were engaged with the enemy."
I came to the conclusion that it would be unwise to get rid of the
slave-hunters by physical force. Although I felt that they were entirely
in my power, as I could bombard their stations with Hale's rockets, if
they should refuse to turn out, the natives would, in the event of a
flight, most assuredly possess themselves of the guns and ammunition.
With 146 men, I could not take more than eighty men to act against 600,
as the small force of sixty-six would be the minimum that I could leave
to protect the Fatiko station. If with eighty men, together with a wild
army of natives, I should attack Fabbo (in which I had heard that Abou
Saood was concentrating his people from the other stations), every one
of the slave-traders would be massacred. It would be impossible for
eighty men to fight, and to secure at the same time the 600 stand of
arms that would be in the hands of the rebels. These, together with the
muskets belonging to the Baris, would all fall into the possession of my
native allies, who would immediately scatter and disappear with their
prize.
Should I attack Fabbo, the result would simply arm the natives with 800
or 900 stand of muskets, together with a large amount of ammunition,
which they might probably use against me at some future time.
I resolved to work diplomatically, and to keep the slave-hunters' party
as a rod above the backs of the natives, until I should discover their
real character.
It had been necessary to establish a corn tax [*] for the support of the
troops. Possibly the natives, if entirely relieved from their
oppressors, might refuse to acknowledge government taxation! At all
events I determined to proceed cautiously.
[*Footnote: The corn tax was thus established. Each house was taxed to
pay a small basket of corn every full moon. All old and infirm people
and also strangers were exempted from taxation. The headman of each
village was responsible for the tax, and he delivered a bundle of small
pieces of reed, the size of drawing pencils which represented the number
of houses belonging to able-bodied men. This tax was always paid
cheerfully, in gratitude for the protection afforded by the government.]
The first step was to summon Abou Saood and to hear his defence from his
own mouth.
I had given the prisoners their choice, of either enlisting in the
government service, or returning to Khartoum.
Of course they ought to have been shot in a batch; but I could not
afford to shoot them. I had to catch and tame my wild beasts instead
of destroying them.
A considerable number agreed to serve under Wat-el-Mek.
I wrote, on 5th August, a letter addressed to Abou Saood, summoning hum
to appear instantly at Fatiko: at the same time I promised him a free
exit; without which written assurance I might as well have summoned the
"man in the moon".
It was difficult to procure natives who would accompany the new
irregulars with the letter, as news had arrived that Abou Saood's people
were plundering and laying waste the neighbourhood of Fabbo.
At length I arranged that eight of the new levy, together with the
native blacksmith and several others from Fatiko, who were well known in
the Madi country, should go to Fabbo (22 miles) with my letter to Abou
Saood. The blacksmith would protect the irregulars by explaining their
new position to any natives who might desire to molest them.
I also sent a proclamation to be read publicly in the zareeba, summoning
all subjects of the Khedive to declare their allegiance to the
government.
On the following day (6th August) the blacksmith and his people returned
to Fabbo thoroughly disgusted. Upon their arrival near the zareeba of
Abou Saood they had cried out to the slave-hunters that they had brought
"a letter from the Pacha to Abou Saood!" The slave-hunters had replied
with a well-known form of abuse in that country, and had immediately
fired a volley into the blacksmith and the eight men of their own
people!
The blacksmith and his natives had lost no time in running back to
Fatiko; and the eight irregulars having thrown themselves on the ground,
had (the blacksmith supposed) at length explained who they were.
The patience and forbearance that I was obliged to assume were far more
trying to my feelings than the march from Masindi.
It has always been an intense satisfaction to me that I had reliable
witnesses to every incident of the expedition; otherwise, I might
perhaps have been suspected of some prejudice against Abou Saood and
certain Egyptian authorities that, unknown to myself, might have
discoloured the true aspect of affairs. I can only refer to Lieutenant
Baker, R.N., and that gallant officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Abd-el-Kader,
and many others, including all soldiers and servants who belonged to the
detachment at Fatiko.
These persons subsequently gave their evidence, which they will be ready
at all times to repeat.
On 7th August, at about 5 P.M., Abou Saood appeared with about forty of
his men. He was afraid to enter my camp without a second assurance in
writing that he should not be made prisoner.
Of course he swore that he had not given orders to fire at me; and he
declared that his people of Fatiko had only fired because they were
afraid that the natives who had accompanied me were about to attack
them.
I asked him, "If that were the case, why had they not communicated with
me, as I was only ninety yards distant?" He said his people had not
fired at the government troops, but only at the natives who were upon
the rock.
He could not quite explain in that case "how it was that 1,000 natives
perched upon the rock close together, had escaped without a man being
wounded, while not only were seven of the government troops knocked down
by bullets, but the huts and furniture of our camp, including boxes in
the magazine, &c, had been completely riddled with balls." He then began
to lay the blame on Wat-el-Mek, and even had the audacity to declare
that "he had nothing to do with slaves, but that he could not restrain
his people from kidnapping." I never heard any human being pour out such
a cataract of lies as this scoundrel. His plausibility and assurance
were such that I stood aghast; and after he had delivered a long speech,
in which he declared that "he was the innocent victim of adverse
circumstances, and that every one was against him," I could merely reply
by dismissing him with the assurance that there was "only one really
good and honest man in the world, who invariably spoke the truth; this
man was ABOU SAOOD. All other men were liars."
On the following morning Abou Saood came to take leave. He pretended to
devote himself to my service, and declared that he should now at once
return to Fabbo and organize the best of his people into an irregular
corps for the government, and he should act with energy as my vakeel,
and assist me in every manner possible. He begged me not to believe a
word that any one might say EXCEPT HIMSELF, and he swore by the eyes and
head of the Prophet (this was his favourite oath whenever he told the
biggest lie) that there was no one so true to me as he, which he would
prove by his acts. He then went back to Fabbo.
This is the last time that I ever saw Abou Saood. He took 200 men upon
his arrival at Fabbo, and after having told his men to cut the throat of
the sheik Werdella, who was a prisoner in the Fabbo camp under my
special orders for protection, he went straight to Gondokoro to his
friend Raouf Bey.
This officer, who commanded at head-quarters during my absence, although
he heard from Abou Saood's people of the attack made upon me at Fatiko,
and Abou Saood had arrived without either a passport or letters from
myself, positively allowed him to depart to Khartoum.
At Khartoum Abou Saood spread every conceivable false report. Thence he
travelled to Cairo, expressly to complain to the Khedive's government of
the manner in which he had been treated by me.
Thus the greatest slave-trader of the White Nile, who was so closely
connected with the Soudan government that he was a tenant who had rented
a country WHICH DID NOT BELONG TO EGYPT, now applied to that government
for protection against my interference with his murders, kidnapping, and
pillaging, which were the accompaniments of his slave-hunting in Central
Africa.
The fact of this renowned slave-hunter having the audacity to appeal to
the Egyptian authorities for assistance, at once exhibits the confidence
that the slave-traders felt in the moral support of certain official
personages who represented public opinion in their hatred to the
principal object of the expedition.
The various links in the chain which united the interests of Abou Saood
with certain officers who were opposed to the spirit of the enterprise
will be at once perceived.
From the very commencement, this man had been the chief intriguer who
had endeavoured to ruin the expedition. He had fraternized with the
Baris when they were at open war with the government. He had incited the
tribes to attack me, and at length his own companies had fired at me by
his orders. HE NOW SOUGHT THE PROTECTION OF THE EGYPTIAN GOVERNMENT AT
CAIRO.
We shall now leave Abou Saood in Cairo, where he spread the false report
of the massacre of Lady Baker and myself, which reached England and
appeared in the newspapers in April 1873.
After Abou Saood's departure from Fabbo, the influence of Wat-el-Mek
began to be felt, and many men flocked to the government standard.
Nevertheless, that station was a scene of anarchy. The slave-hunters
were divided among themselves. The party that followed Wat-el-Mek were
nearly all Soudanis, like himself, but the Arabs were split up into
companies, each of which had elected a separate leader. This dissension
was exactly what I desired, and I played the game accordingly. As I have
before stated, I wished to avoid physical force.
Ali Genninar, whom I had engaged at Masindi, was an excellent fellow,
and before Abou Saood deserted the country, he had been the first man to
arrive at Fatike and unite with the government. He now collected
sixty-five men, whom I at once enrolled, and having given them their
government flags, I started them off without delay to support Rionga in
Unyoro, and recalled Abd-el-Kader and his troops to Fatiko. At the same
time I sent Rionga many valuable presents.
There were several terrible scoundrels at Fabbo, among whom was
Salim-Wat-Howah, who, together with Lazim, had threatened to shoot Major
Abdullah in his own camp during my absence in Unyoro.
I had Lazim in irons at Fatiko, but Salim-Wat-Howah had escaped on the
day of attack. This man Salim was the head of the greatest villains at
Fabbo, and he and his band of about one hundred men daily sallied out of
the zareeba and plundered and burnt the neighbourhood in open defiance
of Wat-el-Mek.
When these ruffians captured women, they now cut their throats and threw
them into the Un-y-Ame river, explaining to the natives that they defied
me to "liberate" them when their throats were cut.
Every day the natives flocked to me from Fabbo with the most dreadful
tales of atrocities.
The time had now arrived when I could make the move that I felt sure
would reduce the country to order.
The slave-hunters were in this position. I had sent Ali Germinar with
sixty-five men to Unyoro, 200 had gone off with Abou Saood, 100
reprobates clung to Salim-Wat-Howah, and the remainder were true to
Wat-el-Mek.
I therefore sent a message to Fabbo, which Wat-el-Mek would make public
in the zareeba: "that, having received daily complaints from the natives
of outrages committed by Salim-Wat-Howah and his company, it was my
intention in forty eight hours to visit Fabbo with the troops, together
with the native witnesses to the outrages complained of."
I ordered "all those men who had enlisted in the government service,
together with all others who were true to the Khedive, to retire from
the Fabbo station to Faloro: thus Fabbo alone would represent the
malcontents."
I felt sure that the dissension which had existed among the various
parties would now break out anew, and that Salim-Wat-Howah, fearing a
personal visit from me, would follow the example of his master, Abou
Saood, and fly from the country.
The hint that I had given respecting the retirement of the loyal people
to Faloro, so that Fabbo would represent the disloyal, would be
sufficient warning that physical force was intended, should other means
fail.
The day upon which Wat-el-Mek published the proclamation was one of
general consternation in Fabbo.
Wat-el-Mek left the station with his Soudanis.
Salim-Wat-Howah and his men suddenly sprang upon the vakeel, Suleiman,
and having secured him, while others broke open the powder-magazine,
they possessed themselves of three cases (1,500 rounds) of
ball-cartridge, together with the flags of the station. With this prize
they marched out of the zareeba with their slaves, who carried their
luggage, and took the road towards Latooka, about nine days' march
distant.
Without firing a shot, I had thus won the game. All the bad people had
found the country too hot for them. The remaining men received
certificates, and raised the corps of irregulars to 312 officers and
men; all of whom were nominally under Wat-el-Mek, although Ali Genninar
held a separate command in Unyoro. I now strengthened his party by a
reinforcement.
From this date, the victory was gained, and I could only thank God for
the great success that had attended all my efforts. The slave-hunting
was now at an end throughout an immense district, as the slave-hunters
had ceased to exist south of Gondokoro. Excepting Unyoro, the days of
bloodshed were past. The "Forty Thieves", who had so gallantly stood by
me through every difficulty, never again had an enemy before them. I was
devoutly thankful for days of peace. (All readers will share my deep
regret, that since my departure from Central Africa this gallant body of
men, together with the French officer in command, Monsieur Linant de
Bellefonds, fell victims to a surprise by the Baris in the district of
Moogi. Colonel Gordon, who was engaged in towing a steamer through the
rapids, had sent M. Linant de Bellefonds with forty sniders to make a
reconnaissance in the immediate neighbourhood, as the Moogi natives had
become hostile. The force was supplied with thirty rounds of
ball-cartridge in their pouches together with two boxes (1000 rounds) of
spare ammunition. Only four soldiers escaped to tell the tale of
destruction.)
My task was now full of pleasure and gratification. I had established
perfect confidence among the natives throughout the large country of
Shooli. The Lira tribe had declared their allegiance, and we had friends
upon all sides.
I had as usual planted gardens at Fatiko, which were flourishing. The
natives no longer concealed their stores of corn; but dancing and
rejoicing had taken the place of watchfulness and insecurity.
The children and women flocked to our camp; and marketing upon a large
scale was conducted without a squabble. The two good men, Shooli and
Gimoro, who were daily visitors, assured me that there was only one
feeling throughout the country, of gratitude and good-will. This was a
great reward to me for the many difficulties we had undergone; but now
that the calm days of peace had arrived, I looked back with keen regret
upon the good men that I had lost, especially to the memory of poor
Monsoor. There was no person who would have enjoyed my success so much
as that worthy man.
It is now time to speak of Suleiman and the party who had left Masindi
on 23rd May with the post for Fatiko, together with the 300 Unyoro
carriers who were to have transported Abdullah's detachment to Foweera.
The letter (concealed in a package) that I had sent to Eddrees, with
orders that "the party might return at once to Fatiko should they
suspect foul play," had reached them before they had crossed the
Victoria Nile.
Mohammed, the Cairo dragoman, had strongly suspected treachery, owing to
the unaccountable tardiness of the natives in pushing straight for
Fatiko. Every day messengers had arrived from Masindi, and others had
been returned in reply by the sheik Pittia, who had charge of the 300
Unyoro carriers.
When my letter had been received, Mohammed advised Eddrees to return at
once to Masindi; but the latter, finding himself about fifty miles on
the journey, concluded that it would be better to continue the march.
They had delayed so many days on the road, that the stock of flour
intended for the whole journey would have failed, had they not spared
their supply, and fed upon potatoes whenever they halted near cultivated
ground.
On one occasion, a number of their men had as usual gone off to forage,
and were employed in digging sweet potatoes, when they were suddenly
attacked by the natives concealed in the high grass, and eleven men were
speared; five of my troops, and six of the irregulars. Fortunately some
of these men had fired their muskets before they died, and the reports
alarmed the remainder of the party, who were in a small village. There
was not a native to be seen, but the drums and horns were sounding, and
as the Victoria Nile was close at hand, they considered it would be
advisable to cross the river before the natives should attack them in
force.
It was necessary to release Suleiman, who was secured in a sheba. This
man had been committed to the charge of Mohammed. Before Mohammed cut
the raw hide strip which secured the forked pole, he made Suleiman swear
by the prophet not to escape, but that he would deliver himself up to
Major Abdullah at Fatiko.
The party, now reduced to twenty-five men, immediately started. Upon
arrival at the banks of the river, they happened to come suddenly upon a
native, whom they seized.
They soon observed a canoe on the other side of the river, in which were
two men. They now made an arrangement for the capture of the canoe,
which was to them a case of life or death.
The prisoner was dressed in the usual flowing robe of bark-cloth. His
hands were tied behind him, and one of the party who could speak the
language now concealed himself behind the bark-cloth robe, and holding
the native tightly by the arms, he threatened him with instant death
unless he called the two natives in the canoe.
At first he hesitated, but fearing the knife at his back, the point of
which just pricked him to let him know that it was ready, he shouted to
the men in the boat.
"Say you have a number of plantains, and you want to take them across
the river," whispered his invisible prompter from behind.
The natives in the canoe hesitated. "Say you will give them each a bunch
of plantains if they will ferry you over," again whispered the cunning
Arab.
The canoe now pushed off from the bank, and paddled towards the
apparently solitary native.
The irregulars were concealed in the high grass close to the bank, and
as the canoe touched the shore, they shot the two natives dead, and
immediately secured it.
They now unlashed the arms of the prisoner, and insisted upon his
paddling the canoe across the river. Two journeys were necessary. The
first was successful, and the regular troops, together with the post and
Suleiman and others, were safely landed. During the second journey, as
the canoe was passing a rock above some dangerous rapids, the native
suddenly upset the boat by throwing his weight quickly to one side, and
plunged the whole party in the river. Some of them were carried over the
cataracts and drowned. The others, including Ali Genninar, were good
swimmers, and they reached the shore.
Although the irregulars thoroughly knew the country, they now found
themselves in the immense wilderness that separates Unyoro from the
Shooli and Madi tribes.
In this sea of high grass they wandered for some days, lost; until they
at length discovered the regular path, and, after great suffering,
reached Fatiko.
Eddrees, who had been appointed vakeel, became a traitor, and upon
meeting Abou Saood and his people, who had come out to receive the party
upon their arrival, he cried out, "Look sharp for your neck, Abou Saood:
the Pacha has sent an order to arrest you."
A short time after this, Eddrees died of dysentery. Suleiman behaved in
an honourable manner. Instead of going into Abou Saood's camp, he
immediately presented himself before Major Abdullah, and confessed his
sins, acknowledging that he had been justly punished. He surrendered
himself into the hands of the commandant, according to the oath he had
taken on the road.
Although Major Abdullah had now received the post, together with my
orders, he thought it advisable, considering the danger of a collision
with Abou Saood's people, to allow Suleiman his liberty on parole, and
he had returned to his position of vakeel at Fabbo. Ali Genninar had at
once offered to continue his duties as a government soldier.
A few days after the arrival of the post, the news was brought of the
battle of Masindi, and that our escape from Unyoro was impossible.
The almost open hostility of Abou Saood and his numerous forces had
paralyzed Major Abdullah, who, fearing the responsibility of an
outbreak, kept quiet, and trusted in Providence, until I had fortunately
appeared.
There can be no doubt that the plan laid by Kabba Rega for securing the
arms and effects of Major Abdullah and his detachment broke down through
a premature attack on the part of the natives, who had neither the
courage nor the patience to go to Fatiko on the chance of success in
such a distant enterprise.
Suleiman had written me a letter imploring forgiveness. Wat-el-Mek
arrived at Fatiko after the seizure of the ammunition by
Salim-Wat-Howah, and he begged pardon for Suleiman, assuring me that he
was truly penitent; that the devil had misled him, and Abou Saood was
that devil. If I would grant him a free pardon, no man would be more
faithful; and the irregular force now established would be delighted at
such an act of clemency.
Although Suleiman was a great ruffian, he was like everybody else in
that respect. If I had refused the enlistment of all immoral characters
in the middle of Africa, I should have had what is now known in England
as a "skeleton regiment." I had already punished him severely. In every
case of defiance of the government, the people had seen that so small an
organized force as 200 regulars, amongst innumerable enemies, and
without any communication with head-quarters, had been able to beat down
and crush every enemy, whether native or rebel. In times of real
weakness, it is frequently necessary to be severe, that a grave example
may establish authority; but after victory and success, I felt that an
act of clemency might, even among half savages, be more binding than
fetters.
I therefore told Wat-el-Mek that I could not give any promise until
Suleiman should present himself before me at Fatiko. It was his duty to
deliver himself up as a prisoner upon parole.
On 3rd October Wat-el-Mek arrived at Fatiko accompanied by Suleiman, who
came to surrender.
The prisoner was dressed in a filthy brown woollen cloak, and his head
was covered with a greasy and almost black tarboosh he had the
appearance of having slept on a dust-heap. This beggarly outside was a
token of repentance and humiliation.
Suleiman was brought before me, and he immediately rushed forward and
knelt to kiss my feet, exhibiting at the same time considerable emotion;
which surprised me, as he was notorious as a stern, hard-hearted Kurd.
I said a few words to him, explaining that he must not think me
impenetrable if I doubted his sincerity, as I had been already deceived,
after having shown him much kindness; yet the same time I did not wish
to exert severity, if I could win him to obedience by good advice.
(Suleiman always remained faithful from that moment, and became a
dependable officer.) I offered him a free pardon if he would swear upon
the Koran fidelity to the Khedive. Should he deceive me, and become a
rebel after this, he knew the consequences.
Suleiman now declared, and swore upon the Koran, that he had acted only
upon orders he had received from Abou Saood. It was he who, in spite of
my written command that the sheik Werdella should be spared, had ordered
two of his slaves to take him from the Fabbo zareeba, and to cut his
throat.
Both Wat-el-Mek and Suleiman, as late vakeels of Abou Saood, swore to
their written evidence, to which they attached their seals in the
presence of witnesses, that Abou Saood had given orders to his vakeels
to harry the country and to capture slaves and cattle; that none of the
people employed by him received wages in money, but that they were
invariably paid in slaves, valued at a certain sum.
"All the opposition that I had met with had been caused by Abou Saood."
Suleiman, having received a written pardon, made his salaam and retired.
An hour later he was washed beautifully clean, and was gorgeously
dressed in a Turkish costume of light blue woollen cloth, trimmed with
gold and black braid, with a new tarboosh, a handsome silk shawl in
thick folds around his waist, and his sabre dangling by his side. This
sudden metamorphosis from dirt and ashes to dazzling attire was
symbolical of disgrace and humiliation succeeded by pardon and
restoration to office.
Suleiman was to continue as vakeel of the Fabbo station, under the
command of Wat-el-Mek. In the magazines of Fabbo were 3,200 elephants'
tusks. These, I had no doubt, would be confiscated by the Khedive.
A short time before the arrival of Suleiman, an extraordinary incident
had occurred at the Fatiko camp.
One morning, when the bugles blew the usual call, it was discovered that
the prisoner Lazim had escaped, although he had been secured in irons.
Fortunately, it had rained slightly during the night; thus it would not
be difficult to track his footsteps. I immediately sent for Shooli and
Gimoro, whose village was only 700 yards distant, to whom I promised a
reward of a cow, should they succeed in capturing the escaped felon.
They quickly got upon the track of the fugitive, and followed like
bloodhounds.
I have already described this fellow Lazim as having been one of the
ringleaders in the rebellion of the slave-hunters; and he was almost as
notorious a character as Ali Hussein. He was originally himself a slave,
and had escaped from his master at Khartoum many years ago, after which
he became one of the most determined slave-hunters.
I felt sure that it would have been impossible for him to have escaped
without the connivance of the sentry. I therefore ordered all the
soldiers that had formed the various night-guards over the prisoner to
be brought before me. As they stood in line, I simply told them that
"the prisoner had escaped, and that one of the men now present was
guilty of aiding and abetting. I could discover the fellow who had thus
disgraced himself as a soldier by simply looking at his face."
Having carefully examined the countenance of each man, I felt confident
that I had fixed upon the guilty person, as one individual quailed
beneath my eye, and at length looked down upon the ground. This happened
to be one of the worst characters in the force. I therefore at once
ordered him to be flogged.
During the infliction of punishment, this fellow not only confessed that
he had assisted in the escape of Lazim, but he made a clean breast of
several other delinquencies. He was accordingly put in irons, and
condemned to break stones for the new roads.
In the evening Shooli returned, but without the prisoner. Before he gave
his report, he begged me "not to be angry." He then described that he
had tracked Lazim's footsteps for a long way along the Fabbo road until
he had at length met several natives, who were coming towards him. These
men declared that they had met Lazim, who had managed to get rid of his
irons; but as he was unarmed, they knew that he must have run away. They
accordingly asked him for his pass from me, as it was well known that I
never allowed a man to go alone without a written order.
Lazim of course was unable to produce a paper. The natives, therefore,
insisted upon his returning with them to Fatiko, and upon his
remonstrating they seized him. A struggle ensued, and they at length
knocked him upon the head with au iron mace and killed him. Thus ended
one of the greatest scoundrels, and the government was relieved by his
escape from custody, which had so quickly terminated his career.