The Tragedy at Jambuja
While Emin was thus daily exposed to the danger of death, either at the
hands of the Mahdists or his own people, the relief expedition was also
near destruction more than once. It seems almost incredible that Stanley
should have taken the same route through the dreadful forest in which he
had wandered for six months, at the cost of losing half his people. When
he left half of his force with six hundred carriers in Jambuja, on the
banks of the Aruwimi, under command of Major Bartelot, it was with the
expectation that Tippoo Tib, the famous Arab merchant, would speedily
furnish transportation and enable them to reach the Albert Nyanza. But
Stanley had been out of the forest for months and not one of Major
Bartelot's men had appeared. A year had passed since he left them and
now he asked himself the question, "Why do they not come? Have they
suffered some calamity, perhaps sickness, revolt of the people, or
destruction by the natives? Perhaps they have all perished, and these
two hundred and seventy-nine men and the supplies of every kind promised
to Emin are all gone." These questions tormented the leader and no
satisfactory answer came to quiet him. After leaving the sick and
incapacitated in Fort Bado, under the care of Dr. Parke, he plunged
again into that dark, gloomy forest, that cruel wilderness, from which
his people had but just escaped.
At last, on the seventeenth of August (1888) the expedition, after
finding several canoes on the river, came to a great bend of the Aruwimi
at Benalja and observed upon the opposite bank a village with a strong
enclosure. White costumes were visible, and looking through the field
glass Stanley saw a red flag, upon which was a white crescent and star,
the Egyptian symbols. Stanley sprang to his feet shouting, "The major,
boys! Row faster!" Loud cries and hurrahs followed and the canoes shot
swiftly ahead. When within hearing distance he called to some men upon
the shore: "What people are you?"
"We are Stanley's people."
They rowed ashore and Stanley sprang out and addressed a European
officer:
"Well, Bonney, how are you? Where is the major?"
"The major is dead, sir."
"Dead! Good God! How did he die? Of fever?"
"No, sir, he was shot."
"By whom?"
"By the Manjema, the bearers whom Tippoo Tib sent us."
"How are our people?"
"More than half of them are dead."
Stanley was speechless. He mechanically gave orders for the landing of
his men and then followed Bonney to the camp in order to learn the
complete details of the tragedy. Human beings worn with sickness, mere
skeletons, crawled past and gave him welcome with their hollow
voices--welcome to a churchyard!
One hundred graves in Jambuja, thirty-three men left in camp to perish,
ten bodies on the way, forty persons in Banalja who had a feeble hold
upon life, twenty deserters and sixty left in a moderate condition. How
did such a loss happen? Bonney explained. Stanley had left the major in
Jambuja fourteen months ago with instructions to await the arrival of
those six hundred carriers which Tippoo Tib had promised should
accompany them to the Albert Nyanza. Eight times the major made the
journey to Stanley Falls to remind Tippoo Tib of his promise. The greedy
Arab took advantage of the necessities of the expedition to raise the
price of his service and a year elapsed--a year of frightful, murderous
desolation in that unhealthy camp at Jambuja. At last some of the
bearers came, but they were of the Manjema tribe, a savage cannibal
people, not inclined to obey the orders of whites. They finally left
Jambuja, that yawning grave, and reached Banalja, where Bartelot was
killed. Bonney's diary describes the event.
"On the nineteenth of July (1888) a Manjema woman began beating the drum
and singing. That is their daily practice. The major sent a boy to her
and ordered her to stop, whereupon loud, angry voices were heard as well
as two shots which were fired in defiance. The major sprang from his bed
and taking his revolver said, 'I will kill the first one I find
shooting.' I implored him not to mind their daily practice, but to stay
where he was, as it would soon be over. He went, revolver in hand, where
the Soudanese were. They told him they could not find the men who fired
the shots. The major then went to the woman who was drumming and singing
and ordered her to stop. At that instant Sanga, husband of the woman,
fired a shot through an aperture in an adjoining hut, the ball piercing
him directly below the region of the heart, coming out through his back
and penetrating a part of the veranda below, while he fell to the earth
dead."
The camp was at once in the greatest excitement. It looked as if all,
soldiers and carriers, Zanzibarites, Soudanese, and Manjema might start
at once in every direction taking with them the luggage and arms. It
required all Lieutenant Bonney's energy to stop the plundering and force
them back to duty, and it was only accomplished by the adoption of harsh
measures. The major's body was buried and his murderer was sentenced to
be shot. Then came Stanley and now it was hoped everything would go
well.
Stanley was a man of extraordinary energy, who never indulged in
outbursts of emotions, but he was wellnigh discouraged when he heard
this mournful story and realized the troubles of the expedition which he
had hoped to find in excellent condition. But he looked forward with
confidence and fortunately his own strong men were loud in praise of the
beautiful region on the Nyanza, where there was plenty of meat and bread
and beer and where the poor starved people at Banalja would soon recover
their strength.