April 6th.—We are going straight through the Bongo territory without
troubling ourselves about the neighbouring tribes. If we were
differently circumstanced, and had not an object in view which we
must reach as soon as possible, we should have halted for a few weeks
at Sabbi, instead of only having made, a couple of days ago, a short
stay there, as in that case we might have seen something of the
Mittoos, who, we are told, are quite as remarkable as the Bongos.
Every day, in spite of our unceasing watchfulness, we have to record
fresh desertions, caused by the increasing fear of the tribes in the
South. It is a fact, also, that the inhabitants of the various
seribas through which we pass, take care to enlarge upon the subject,
because none of them, neither the traders, their soldiers, nor their
servants, believe that we are undertaking so long a journey for the
sole purpose of getting on the track of one of our friends. "It is
all an excuse," they say. "The Franks are going southwards, as their
fellow-countrymen, the brothers Poncet, formerly did, to collect
ivory and come into competition with us."
These people dare not attack us openly, because our force is a
respectable one, and they know that we are, as it were, under the
protection of the principal inhabitants of Khartoum, with whom they
are inseparably connected commercially, but they do their best to
injure us indirectly by diminishing our escort and inducing our
bearers to leave us. As far as our bodily wants are concerned, we are
treated well, thanks to our letters of credit, and, above all, to our
rifles; morally, we are no longer welcomed at these last commercial
depôts, as we were in the earlier ones. But the country is safe,
provisions are abundant, and we have still bearers enough to carry
them. If the effective strength of the caravan proper has now been
decreased by about thirty individuals, we do not suffer from the
loss, because from one stage to another we find Bongos both ready and
willing to fill up the vacant places. Unfortunately, they are only
attached to us provisionally, and they cannot, by any amount of
persuasion, be induced to pass beyond their own frontier.
The rainy season has now fairly set in, but, nevertheless, we have
frequent intervals of fine weather and a tolerably equable
temperature. The thermometer, which stands during the day at from
thirty-five to forty degrees in the shade, goes down at night to
between sixteen and eighteen, but that is a variation to which we are
accustomed.
We suffer principally from the heavy showers which overtake us on the
march, when it is impossible to change our clothes. The negroes,
owing to their semi-nudity, take these shower-baths very stoically
and often enjoy them, but our costume precludes us from sharing in
these sentiments.
Madame de Guéran has lately been suffering from a succession of
attacks of fever, and at first bore them courageously without a
murmur or calling in our doctor, but Miss Poles, ever at her side,
attentive to her slightest need, and truly good in spite of her
little weaknesses, discovered how far from well our beloved Baroness
was, and made her take quinine. Consequently, Madame de Guéran is
already much better, and, after having been carried for two days in
her palanquin, she is to-day once more on horseback.
April 9th.—This morning, after spending the night on the banks of a
small river called the Tondy, a short distance from the village of
Ngoly, just as we were emerging from our tents to get on the road
again, Nassar appeared with the intelligence that both escort and
porters refused to start. Their obstinacy this time appeared to him
to be invincible, and he held it to be prudent to give the caravan a
day's rest.
"So be it," said de Morin, after consulting with Madame de Guéran.
"We had a hard day yesterday, the stages were long, the showers
heavy, and the heat overpowering. We also think it better to rest
here for a day, close to the river and in the shade, but we must not
appear to give in to these people. We must make them believe that we,
too, want a little peace and quietness. I'll manage it."
And, lighting a cigarette, he went quietly towards the encampment,
and, accosting the first Nubian he met, he said in Arabic, which we
were all beginning to speak with tolerable ease—
"Tell your comrades not to strike the tents, because we intend to
remain here to-day. There is to be a _fête_ to-night in a
neighbouring village, and we want to see it. So much the worse for
you all if you want to move on. There will be no marching to-day, and
you can tell them all that I say so."
The news, spread at once throughout the kraal that the Europeans
intended to be present at the _fête_, or orgie, which was in
preparation in the village of Ngoly. In reality this _fête_ was the
very reason why the negroes refused to move on, but they never
expected that their white chief would partake in their wish. If they
gave full value to his generosity and sense of justice, they also
dread his anger, and it was not without a certain amount of alarm
that they had entered into a conspiracy to remain where they were.
Their fears now disappeared, and they gave themselves up gleefully to
the sweets of idleness for the day, and the prospect of every sort of
excess in the evening.