that day the scenery of the river underwent a welcome improvement. The
marshes gave place to dry ground; the well-wooded banks rose four feet
above the water level; the thickly populated country bloomed like an
orchard. At Gondokoro the picture was fresh and pleasant, with a distant
view of high mountains, and neat villages nestling under the shade of
evergreen trees. Gondokoro is not a town, but merely a station of the
ivory traders, and for ten months of the year is almost a solitude. Its
climate is hot and unhealthy. Sir Samuel Baker did not meet with a
friendly reception. The men who profited by the slave-trade regarded him
with suspicion; they believed he had come to watch their doings, and
report them to the world. Their hostility, however, did not disturb his
composure, and he amused himself in riding about the neighbourhood, and
studying the place and its inhabitants. He admired the exquisite
cleanliness of the native dwellings, which almost rose to the standard of
the famous village of Brock. Each house was enclosed by a hedge of the
impenetrable euphorbia, and the area within was neatly plastered with a
cement of ashes, cow-dung, and sand. Upon this well-kept surface stood
one or more huts, surrounded by granaries of neat wicker-work, thatched,
resting upon raised platforms. The huts are built with projecting roofs
for the sake of shade, and the entrance is not more than two feet high.
On the death of a member of the family, he is buried in the yard, his
resting-place being indicated by a pole crowned by a bunch of cock’s
feathers, and ornamented with a few ox-horns and skulls. Each man
carries with him, wherever he goes, his weapons, pipe, and stool, the
whole (except the stool) being held between his legs when he is standing.
The Gondokoro natives belong to the Bari tribe: the men are well grown;
the women are not prepossessing, with good features, and no sign of negro
blood, except the woolly hair. They tattoo themselves on stomach, sides,
and back, and anoint their persons with a peculiar red clay, abounding in
oxide of iron. Their principal weapon is the bow and arrow; the arrow
they steep in the juice of euphorbia and other poisonous plants.
At the secret instigation of the slave-traders, Sir Samuel Baker’s escort
broke out into open mutiny, declaring that they had not meat enough, and
demanding leave to carry off the oxen of the natives. The ringleader, an
Arab, was so violent that Sir Samuel ordered him to receive twenty-five
lashes. The vakeel, Saati, advanced to seize him, when many of the men
rushed to his rescue; and Sir Samuel was compelled to interfere. The
Arab then rushed at his employer; but Sir Samuel knocked him back into
the middle of the crowd, caught him by the throat, and called to the
vakeel for a rope to bind him; but in an instant all the mutineers sprang
forward to his assistance. How the affair would have ended seems
doubtful; but as the fray took place within ten yards of the boat, Lady
Baker, who was ill with fever in the cabin, witnessed the whole of it,
and seeing her husband surrounded, rushed out, forced her way into the
middle of the crowd, and called on some of the least mutinous to assist.
For a moment the crowd wavered, and Sir Samuel seized the opportunity to
shout to the drummer-boy to beat the drum. Immediately, the drum beat,
and in his loudest tones Sir Samuel ordered the men to “fall in.” The
instinct of discipline prevailed: two-thirds of the men fell in, and
formed in line, while the others retreated with the ringleader, declaring
he was badly hurt. Then Sir Samuel insisted upon their all forming in
line, and upon the ringleader being brought forward. At this critical
moment, Lady Baker, with true feminine tact, implored her husband to
forgive the man if he kissed his hand and begged for pardon. The men
were completely conquered by this generosity, and called on their
ringleader to apologize, and that all would be right. Thus the affair
ended; but Sir Samuel rightly foresaw in it the promise of future
troubles. According to the custom of the White Nile, the men had five
months’ wages in advance; he had therefore no control over them; yet he
and his wife were about to penetrate into the midst of a probably hostile
native population, with an escort on whose faithfulness no reliance could
be placed.
On the 15th of February, Captains Speke and Grant arrived at Gondokoro,
from the Victoria Nyanza, and the meeting between them and Sir Samuel was
necessarily very cordial. The information they communicated had a
material effect upon his plans. He found that they had been unable to
complete the actual exploration of the Nile—that a most important portion
remained to be determined. It appears that in lat. 2° 17′ N. they had
crossed the Nile, after tracking it from the Victoria Lake; that the
river then turned suddenly to the west, and that they did not touch it
again until they arrived in lat. 3° 32′ N., when it was then flowing from
the west-south-west. The natives, and Kamrasi, King of Unyoro, had
assured them that the Nile from the Victoria Nyanza, which they had
crossed in lat. 2° 17′ N., flowed westward for several days’ journey, and
at length fell into a large lake called the Luta N’zige (“Dead Locust”);
that this lake came from the south, and that the Nile, on entering its
northern extremity, almost immediately made its exit, and as a navigable
river continued its course to the north through the Koshi and Madi
countries. Circumstances prevented Speke and Grant from pushing their
explorations as far as the Luta N’zige; and the question that remained to
be answered was, What was the exact position of this lake in the basin of
the Nile? what was its relation to the great river?
This question Sir Samuel Baker resolved upon settling. Speke and Grant
sailed from Gondokoro, homeward bound, on the 26th, and he immediately
began to prepare for his journey to the Luta N’zige. His preparations
were delayed, however, by the mutinous conduct of his escort, and the
obstacles thrown in his path by the nefarious ivory-traders and
slave-hunters; and it was the 26th of March before he was able to effect
a start. Then, with his escort reduced in number to fifteen men, with
two faithful servants, Richard and the boy Saat, and a heavily loaded
caravan of camels and donkeys, with Lady Baker mounted on a good strong
Abyssinian hunter, Tétel (“Hartebeest”), and Sir Samuel himself on his
horse Filfil (“Pepper”), and the British flag waving proudly above the
_cortége_, they left Gondokoro, and began their march into Central
Africa.
The country was park-like, but dried up by the hot weather. The soil was
sandy, but firm, and numerous evergreen trees enlivened the landscape,
which was further animated by clusters of villages, each surrounded by a
fence of euphorbia. It varied greatly in character as the travellers
advanced; sometimes presenting a magnificent forest, sometimes a dense
jungle, sometimes a labyrinth of ravines, through which the caravan made
its way with difficulty. The view of the valley of Tollogo was
exceedingly picturesque. An abrupt granite wall rose on the east side to
a height of about a thousand feet; from this perpendicular cliff huge
blocks had fallen, strewing the bottom with a confused mass of fragments,
among which the natives had built their village. A slow stream wound its
way in the hollow, which was nowhere more than half a mile wide, in the
shade of numerous fig trees. At Ellyria Sir Samuel narrowly escaped a
hostile encounter with an ivory-trader’s party, but through the firmness
and skilfulness of himself and his wife, not only was it avoided, but
friendly relations were established with its leader. No supplies,
however, could be procured from the natives, whose character Sir Samuel
paints in the darkest colours. Of the village of Wakkala he gives a
pleasant description. The soil was very rich, and the ground being
protected from the burning sun by the large trees, there was a wealth of
luscious grass; while the good pasturage, the extensive forest, and a
plentiful supply of water insured a not less plentiful supply of wild
animals—antelopes in numerous varieties, rhinoceros, buffaloes,
elephants, and giraffes. The next town was Latomé, where the traveller’s
presence of mind and courage were tested by another mutiny; but again he
succeeded in defeating the intentions of the insurgents, and reducing
them to obedience.
Along the foot of the Lafut mountains, which attain a general elevation
of six to seven thousand feet, the travellers pursued their way.
Desertions reduced their escort by five men, but they abated not their
high hopes or spirit of daring enterprise. They duly arrived at
Tarangdlé, famous for its fine trees—the chief settlement of the
Latookas, a fine, frank, and warlike race, who resemble the Irish in
their readiness to join either in a feast or a fray. The town contains
three thousand houses, each of which, as well as the town itself, is
protected by an iron-wood palisade. The cattle are kept in large kraals,
and at various points high platforms are erected, where sentinels keep
watch and ward both day and night. The cattle are the wealth of the
country, and so rich are the Latookas in them, that ten or twelve
thousand head are housed in every large town. The natives are constantly
on guard to prevent the depredations of neighbouring tribes.
“The houses of the Latookas,” says Sir Samuel, “are generally
bell-shaped, while others are precisely like huge candle-extinguishers,
about twenty-five feet high. The roofs are neatly thatched, at an angle
of about 75°, resting upon a circular wall about four feet high; thus the
roof forms a cap descending to within two feet and a half of the ground.
The doorway is only two feet and two inches high, thus an entrance must
be effected upon all-fours. The interior is remarkably clean, but dark,
as the architects have no idea of windows. It is a curious fact that the
circular form of hut is the only style of architecture adopted among all
the tribes of Central Africa, and also among the Arabs of Upper Egypt;
and that, although these differ more or less in the form of the roof, no
tribe has ever yet sufficiently advanced to construct a window. The town
of Tarangdlé is arranged with several entrances, in the shape of low
archways through the palisades; these are closed at night by large
branches of the hooked thorn of the kittur bush (a species of mimosa).
The main street is broad, but all others are studiously arranged to admit
of only one cow, in single file, between high stockades; thus, in the
event of an attack, these narrow passages could be easily defended, and
it would be impossible to drive off their vast herds of cattle unless by
the main street. The large cattle kraals are accordingly arranged in
various quarters in connection with the great road, and the entrance of
each kraal is a small archway in the strong iron-wood fence, sufficiently
wide to admit one ox at a time. Suspended from the arch is a bell,
formed of the shell of the Oolape palm-nut, against which every animal
must strike either its horns or back, on entrance. Every tinkle of the
bell announces the passage of an ox into the kraal, and they are thus
counted every evening when brought home from pasture.”
While at Latooka Sir Samuel was enabled to gratify his passion for the
chase, and his skill and prowess were rewarded by the capture of an
elephant. There is a great difference, or rather, there are three great
differences between the African and the Asiatic elephant: the back of the
former is concave, that of the latter convex; the former has an enormous
ear, the latter a comparatively small one; the head of the former has a
convex front, while that of the latter exposes a flat surface a little
above the trunk. The African animal is much larger than the Asiatic; and
while the latter seeks the forest depths during the day, and does not
wander forth upon the plains till towards evening, the former remains all
day in the vast open prairies, where the thick grass springs to a height
of twelve feet. The African elephant feeds chiefly on the foliage of
trees; the Asiatic is an extensive grass feeder.
The natives hunt the elephant for the sake of the flesh and the tusks.
Sometimes he is caught in pitfalls; at other times, the grass of the
prairies is fired, and the elephants gradually driven back into a
confined area, where they are surrounded and speared to death. Or,
should a number of elephants be in the neighbourhood of a village, about
a hundred men, armed with heavy-bladed lances, post themselves in as many
trees, while a multitude of natives gradually drive the animals towards
this ambush, when such as pass near enough are speared between the
shoulders. The Bagara Arabs are famous elephant hunters. Armed with
bamboo lances, tipped with a sharp iron head, two of them, mounted on
good horses, sally forth to secure a prize. On coming in sight of a
herd, they single out the finest tusker and separate him from the others.
One man then leads the charge, and the animal, hotly pursued, turns
against the horse, which the rider so manages as to draw the elephant
further and further after him, while carefully keeping a safe distance
ahead. The other man, meanwhile, is at the elephant’s heels, and
suddenly dismounting, while at full gallop, plunges his spear into its
body about two feet below the junction of the tail, driving it with all
his strength into the abdomen, and then withdrawing it. If successful in
his thrust, he remounts his horse and escapes, or takes to flight on
foot, pursued by the elephant, until the attention of the latter is drawn
to his first assailant, who in his turn rides up, and inflicts a wound.
Sometimes the first wound proves fatal; sometimes the process is repeated
twice or thrice before the animal succumbs; and sometimes the elephant
overtakes his enemy, in which case the latter must expect no mercy.
On the 2nd of May, 1863, leaving five men in charge of his camp and
baggage, Sir Samuel started for Obbo, crossing the Kanisti river, and
travelling through a bold and romantic highland country. He found the
vegetation of Obbo rich and various; the soil produced nine kinds of
yams, and many capital kinds of fruit. Tobacco flourishes, and ground
nuts are plentiful. As for the people, they attire themselves in the
skin of an antelope or goat, wearing it mantle-wise across their
shoulders; but when on the warpath, they paint their body with red and
yellow stripes. Sir Samuel was received with all the honours by
Katchiba, the chief of Obbo, and entertained with a grand dance, in which
more vigour was displayed than elegance. About a hundred men formed a
ring; each holding in his hand a small cup-shaped drum, formed of
hollowed wood, over the perforated end of which was lightly stretched the
skin of an elephant’s ear. In the centre was placed the chief dancer,
wearing, suspended from his shoulders, an immense drum, also covered with
elephant’s ear. The dance commenced with a wild but agreeable chorus,
the time being kept by the big drum, and the small _tympana_ striking in
at certain periods, with so much precision as to give the effect of a
single instrument. The figures varied continually, and the whole
terminated with a “grand galop” in double circles, at a tremendous pace,
the inner ring revolving in a contrary direction to the outer.
Sir Samuel returned to Latooka, and collecting his baggage and escort,
started again for Obbo on the 13th of June. Here he and his wife
remained for several months, waiting for a favourable opportunity to
resume their southward march. Their quinine was exhausted, and
consequently they suffered much from fever. Sir Samuel, in lieu of
horses, purchased and trained for their contemplated journey three robust
oxen, named respectively, “Beef,” “Steaks,” and “Suet.” He also obtained
a supply of porters to carry his luggage, and arranged with Ibrahim, the
friendly trader, that he should accompany him to Unyoro with a guard of
one hundred men. It was the 5th of January, 1864, before the expedition
started. On the very first day, however, one of the oxen bolted; and Sir
Samuel was compelled to purchase another of one of the Turks at the price
of a double-barrelled gun. Three days’ march through a beautiful country
brought them to the Asua river, in lat. 3° 12′ N. Its bed was almost
dry. On the 13th they arrived at Shooa. This is characterized as a
lovely place. A noble mountain of granite ascended in a sheer precipice
for about eight hundred feet from its base; perfectly abrupt on the
eastern side, the other parts were of gradual inclination, covered with
fine forest trees, and picturesquely studded with villages. The
surrounding country, with its trees and rivulets and greensward, might
have been taken for an English park, but for the granite rocks that rose
at intervals like the gray ruins of ancient castles.
Shooa is a land of milk and honey. The travellers found fowls, butter,
and goats abundant and ridiculously cheap; and as beads were highly
valued, they effected some good bargains. The women flocked to see the
white lady, bringing her gifts of milk and flowers, and receiving beads
and bracelets in return. They were gentle in manner, and evidently
anxious to establish friendly relations. Sir Samuel was struck by the
superior cultivation of the country. Large quantities of sesamum were
grown and carefully harvested, the crop being collected in oblong frames
about twenty feet long and twelve feet high. These were inclined at an
angle of about 60°; the pods of the sesamum plants hanging on one facet,
so that the frames resembled enormous brushes. When fully dried, the
crop was removed to the granaries, of which there were two kinds: the
wicker-work plastered over with cow-dung, supported on four posts, with a
thatched roof; and a simpler contrivance, which may be thus described:—A
stout pole, twenty feet long, was fixed upright in the earth, and, at
about four foot from the ground, a bundle of strong and long reeds was
tied tightly round it. Round these reeds, at intervals, were fastened
hoop of wicker-work, until the structure assumed the shape of an inverted
umbrella half expanded. When this is filled with grain, fresh reeds are
added, until the work has extended to within a few feet of the top of the
pole. The whole is then crowned with a covering of reeds, securely
strapped, and resembles nothing in the world so much as one of those
cigars which slightly bulge in the middle.
At Shooa all Sir Samuel’s Obbo porters absconded, being afraid to enter
Kamrasi’s country, and he found so much difficulty in supplying their
places, that he resolved on leaving behind him every article that was not
absolutely indispensable. How different an appearance his expedition
presented to that which it had worn on leaving Khartûm! It was shorn of
all its “pride and circumstance;” but its leader remained as resolute and
as hopeful as ever, and started from Shooa on the 18th of January,
determined to press forward to the Luta N’zige. After passing Fatiko, a
village perched like an eagle’s eyrie on a rocky table-land, he entered
upon a sea of prairies, an immense undulating expanse of verdure, dotted
with a few palms. As his guide lost the road, Sir Samuel proposed to
clear the country to the south by firing the prairies, and a strangely
picturesque spectacle was the result. In a few minutes the flames roared
before them, and waves upon waves of fire, and clouds upon clouds of
smoke, rolled away to the far horizon. Flocks of buzzards and swarms of
beautiful fly-catchers thronged to the spot, to prey upon the innumerable
insects that endeavoured to escape from the approaching conflagration,
which continued to extend until arrested by a reedy swamp.
On the 22nd, the expedition reached the Victoria White Nile, or, as it is
sometimes called, the Somerset river, and proceeded through the
magnificent forest that crowned its bank to the Karuma Falls. The river
here was about a hundred and fifty yards wide, and flowed between lofty
cliffs, which were green with vines, bananas, and palms. The falls,
however, are very insignificant, not exceeding five feet in height. Just
above them is a ferry, and Sir Samuel and Lady Baker crossing by it,
found themselves in Unyoro, King Kamrasi’s country, and in his town or
village of Atado. Speke and Grant had left behind them pleasant
memories, so that Baker, as their friend and countryman, received a
hearty welcome. A large hut was placed at the disposal of his wife and
himself, and in exchange for fresh beef—Sir Samuel ordering an ox to be
killed for the purpose—the natives furnished liberal quantities of flour,
beans, and sweet potatoes. A brisk market was quickly set going, and
whole rows of girls and women arrived, bringing baskets filled with the
desired provisions. The women, we are told, were neatly dressed in short
double-skirted petticoats: many had the bosom bare: others wore a piece
of bark-cloth, plaid-wise, across chest and shoulders. Bark-cloth, which
is exclusively used throughout Equatorial Africa, is the produce of a
kind of fig tree. The bark is stripped off in large pieces, soaked in
water, and beaten with a mallet. In appearance it much resembles
corduroy, in colour tanned leather; the finer qualities are peculiarly
soft to the touch, like woven cotton.
The travellers were struck by the difference between the Unyoro people
and the tribes they had previously seen. On the north side of the Nile
the natives were either wholly naked, or wore only a piece of skin across
their shoulders. The river seemed to mark the limit or _ne plus ultra_
of savagedom, for the inhabitants of Unyoro shrank like Europeans from
the indecency and shame of nakedness. Their higher civilization was
shown also by their manufactures: their smiths were very skilful, and
used iron hammers instead of stone; they converted into fine wire the
thick brass and copper wire which they received from Zanzibar; and their
pottery showed a certain degree of taste in conception.
“The natives,” writes Sir Samuel, “are particularly neat in all they do;
they never bring anything to sell unless carefully packed in the neatest
parcels, generally formed of the bark of the plantain, and sometimes of
the inner portions of reeds stripped into snow-white stalks, which are
bound round the parcels with the utmost care. Should the plantain cider,
‘marossa,’ be brought in a jar, the mouth is neatly covered with a
finger-like mat of these clean white rushes split into shreds. Not even
tobacco is brought for sale unless most carefully packed. During a
journey, a pretty, bottle-shaped, long-necked gourd is carried, with a
store of plantain cider; the mouth of the bottle is stopped with a bundle
of the white rush shreds, through which a reed is inserted that reaches
to the bottom; thus the drink can be sucked up during the march without
the necessity of halting; nor is it possible to spill it by the movement
of walking.
“The natives,” he adds, “prepare the skins of goats very beautifully,
making them as soft as chamois leather; these they cut into squares, and
sew them together as neatly as would be effected by a European tailor,
converting them into mantles, which are prized far more highly than
bark-cloth, on account of their durability. They manufacture their own
needles, not by boring the eye, but by sharpening the end into a fine
point, and turning it over, the extremity being hammered into a small cut
in the body of the needle to prevent it from catching.”
The arrival of Sir Samuel Baker being made known to Kamrasi, he requested
him to pay a visit to his capital, and sent a legion of porters to carry
his baggage. Lady Baker suffered much from illness on the journey, which
she performed in a litter; and Sir Samuel was also attacked by a
debilitating fever. His first interview with “the king” took place on
the 10th of February. He describes him as a fine-looking man, whose
extremely prominent eyes gave a peculiar expression to his countenance;
about six feet high; and dressed in a long robe of bark-cloth, draped in
graceful folds. The nails of his hands and feet were carefully tended,
and his complexion was about as dark a brown as that of an Abyssinian.
He sat upon a copper stool, with a leopard-skin carpet spread around him,
and was attended by about ten of his principal chiefs. Of his character
as a man Sir Samuel Baker speaks in the most unflattering terms; he was
grasping, mean, mendacious, and a coward. After some delay, and by dint
of repeated bribes, Sir Samuel obtained from him a supply of natives to
carry the baggage to the lake, where canoes were to be provided for the
voyage to Magango, a village situated at the junction of the Somerset
river. He went to take leave of the royal savage, and was astonished by
the insolent demand that Lady Baker should be left with him! Sir Samuel
drew his revolver; Lady Baker broke out into invectives in Arabic, which
the woman, Bachuta, translated as nearly as she could, and with indignant
emphasis, into the language of Unyoro; in short, “a scene” ensued!
Kamrasi was completely cowed, and faltered out, “Don’t be angry! I had
no intention of offending you by asking for your wife; I will give you a
wife, if you want one, and I thought you might have no objection to give
me yours; it is my custom to give my visitors pretty wives, and I thought
you might exchange. Don’t make it fuss about it: if you don’t like it,
there’s an end of it; I will never mention it again.” Sir Samuel
received the apology very sternly, and insisted upon starting. Kamrasi
did not feel in a position to interpose any further delay, and the march
to the lake began.