To the West
On the tenth of August, 1891, Emin went farther west, and considerably
farther north than Stanley had gone, in hopes of making a union with
Cameron. All were of good courage except Dr. Stuhlmann, who had grave
doubts, for Emin's health was broken. The saddest feature was his
failing eyesight and the certainty that the day was not far distant when
he would be blind. The Pasha himself realized it and therefore kept
steadily forwards with the energy of desperation instead of going back
by a safer way.
"What is there behind me?" he would reply to Stuhlmann's protests. "The
work to which I have devoted my life is in confusion and my activity in
the German service has not been appreciated. Of what use is life if one
does not accomplish something that is recognized as important?" These
few words give us a glimpse into his proud nature. His important
services had not been justly recognized. The Khedive had written him a
formal letter of thanks and invested him with an empty title: his own
subordinates had proved ungrateful; Stanley had so misjudged him that it
grieved him, and now he had been censured by the authorities of the
German colony. Notwithstanding all this, Emin now ventured one last
effort to secure the recognition of a world which had so obstinately
refused it.
In that forest whose terrors we already know from Stanley's description
he wrote his last letter to his sister. It is with mournful interest
that we read the last utterances of a man who was so soon to be called
from the scene of his activities. The letter begins:
"It will sound strange, but it is the darkness of the forest alone
that has prevented me from writing. At our various camping places we
have had to cut down trees to find a place for our tents and then it
was so dark one could scarcely see to read. We have all the joys, but
at the same time all the discomforts of forest life in abundance. Our
joys are restricted to those pleasures which sublime nature furnishes
for everyone, while slime and water, slippery ascents and descents,
uprooted and fallen trees, myriads of ants and small stinging flies,
torment the men. Added to all this we have at times the pangs of
hunger, for wide stretches of territory are unpopulated and the
plundering Manjemas have left nothing edible in the country. If one
depends upon hunting he may soon starve, for the monkeys and gray
parrots rarely ever come in sight. The forest is a paradise for the
collector and my bird collection has many treasures. Frogs and insects
also are very numerous. There are also surprisingly beautiful
specimens of plants. If one could remain longer in a given place he
would find an abundance of new things. The villages of the forest
people lie mostly upon little elevations, forming wood islands, and
all inclosed by fences of felled trees, and scattered about are
plantations in which maize, beans, tobacco and bananas are raised. As
to animals I have not yet seen a goat, and meat is in such demand that
after skinning my birds they beg for the bodies. Dwarfs live in these
woods and we have been visited by them several times. They were all
hungry and begged for food, which we gave them sparingly."
Their progress through the forest was more and more difficult as they
were without provisions. Every day one or more of their number deserted,
especially the Soudanese, whom Emin had induced with so much exertion to
accompany him. It was particularly hard for Emin, who was in the rear,
and the porters to urge on and encourage the sick and injured. There
followed rainstorms which made the roads in this hilly country still
more slippery. New terrors were added to the old ones. To prevent
thievery about their plantations the natives had filled the ground full
of sharp pointed pieces of cane, which pierced the feet of those
stepping upon them. Six of the porters were so badly injured in this way
that they could not carry their packs.
On the twenty-sixth of September, 1891, they approached the country of
Momsu. The natives saw them coming at some distance away, but did not
seem to be excited. Emin knew that he should soon reach the northern end
of the forest and that he could make his way westward without much
difficulty. All plucked up fresh courage, but on the next day the forest
road abruptly ended and all their efforts to find a new one were
useless. There was no other alternative but to go back to their camp of
the day before and from there not attempt to go forward. Hope seemed at
an end.
On the twenty-ninth of September Emin's people held a conference with
him. They notified him that the greatest dissatisfaction prevailed, that
fifteen men had deserted, that the porters could not go any farther, and
that they could find nothing to eat. Emin explained to them that they
would soon come to a fertile country where there was an abundance of
food. He would send out fifty of his most vigorous men, who would
quickly return loaded with fruit and lead them safely to that blessed
country. They were satisfied and the men were sent. But alas, after
three days they returned empty-handed without even finding a beaten
path. Firmly and unanimously they decided to go south, whence they had
come. They were quiet and moderate, but no power on earth could have
induced them to take another step forwards.
Emin was forced to submit, but he was exceedingly unfortunate. Had he
only known that the Belgian station was not far away! Had his people
followed him a few days longer he would have undoubtedly reached his
goal, the west coast, and a splendid result would have crowned his
efforts. Now he had to go back, hungry and discouraged. For twelve days
his people lived upon banana roots and gourd leaves, which were almost
destitute of nourishing qualities. It was hard to carry their packs and
a fourth of the porters died on the way.
In this most disconsolate period Stuhlmann's birthday anniversary
occurred and it is difficult to describe his emotions when on the
morning of the day Emin met him and presented him with a bottle of
champagne and a beautiful watch. In the midst of all his troubles he did
not forget to congratulate his affectionate friend. It seemed as if
misfortunes were never to leave the expedition. Suddenly one of the
porters was taken ill and showed very suspicious symptoms. He had been
feverish for several days and soon an eruption appeared all over his
body. It was the smallpox, hard as it was for Emin to admit it. If this
terrible pest should spread among his people the prospects of the
expedition would be forever blasted.