The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile - Samuel White Baker (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📗

taken to Cairo to be sold to the

Egyptian government as a drummer-boy. Being too young he was rejected,

and while in the dealer’s hands he heard from another slave, of the

Austrian Mission at Cairo, that would protect him could he only reach

their asylum. With extraordinary energy for a child of six years old, he

escaped from his master, and made his way to the Mission, where he was

well received, and to a certain extent disciplined and taught as much of

the Christian religion as he could understand. In company with a branch

establishment of the Mission, he was subsequently located at Khartoum,

and from thence was sent up the White Nile to a Mission-station in the

Shillook country. The climate of the White Nile destroyed thirteen

missionaries in the short space of six months, and the boy Saat returned

with the remnant of the party to Khartoum, and was re-admitted into the

Mission. The establishment was at that time swarming with little black

boys from the various White Nile tribes, who repaid the kindness of the

missionaries by stealing everything they could lay their hands upon. At

length the utter worthlessness of the boys, their moral obtuseness, and

the apparent impossibility of improving them, determined the chief of

the Mission to purge his establishment from such imps, and they were

accordingly turned out. Poor little Saat, the one grain of gold amidst

the mire, shared the same fate.

 

It was about a week before our departure from Khartoum that Mrs. Baker

and I were at tea in the middle of the courtyard, when a miserable boy

about twelve years old came uninvited to her side, and knelt down in the

dust at her feet. There was something so irresistibly supplicating in

the attitude of the child, that the first impulse was to give him

something from the table. This was declined, and he merely begged to be

allowed to live with us, and to be our boy. He said that he had been

turned out of the Mission, merely because the Bari boys of the

establishment were thieves, and thus he suffered for their sins. I could

not believe it possible that the child had been actually turned out into

the streets, and believing that the fault must lay in the boy, I told

him I would inquire. In the meantime he was given in charge of the cook.

 

It happened that, on the following day, I was so much occupied that I

forgot to inquire at the Mission; and once more the cool hour of evening

arrived when, after the intense heat of the day, we sat at table in the

open courtyard; it was refreshed by being plentifully watered. Hardly

were we seated, when again the boy appeared, kneeling in the dust, with

his head lowered at my wife’s feet, and imploring to be allowed to

follow us. It was in vain that I explained that we had a boy, and did

not require another; that the journey was long and difficult, and that

he might perhaps die. The boy feared nothing, and craved simply that he

might belong to us. He had no place of shelter, no food; had been stolen

from his parents, and was a helpless outcast.

 

The next morning, accompanied by Mrs. Baker, I went to the Mission and

heard that the boy had borne an excellent character, and that it must

have been BY MISTAKE that he had been turned out with the others. This

being conclusive, Saat was immediately adopted. Mrs. Baker was shortly

at work making him some useful clothes, and in an incredibly short time

a great change was effected. As he came from the hands of the

cook—after a liberal use of soap and water, and attired in trowsers,

blouse, and belt—the new boy appeared in a new character.

 

From that time he considered himself as belonging absolutely to his

mistress. He was taught by her to sew; Richarn instructed him in the

mysteries of waiting at table, and washing plates, &c.; while I taught

him to shoot, and gave him a light double-barrelled gun. This was his

greatest pride.

 

In the evening, when the day’s work was done, Saat was allowed to sit

near his mistress; and he was at times amused and instructed by stories

of Europe and Europeans, and anecdotes from the Bible adapted to his

understanding, combined with the first principles of Christianity. He

was very ignorant, notwithstanding his advantages in the Mission, but he

possessed the first grand rudiments of all religion—honesty of purpose.

Although a child of only twelve years old, he was so perfectly

trustworthy that, at the period of our arrival at Gondokoro, he was more

to be depended upon than my vakeel, and nothing could occur among my

mutinous escort without the boy’s knowledge: thus he reported the

intended mutiny of the people when there was no other means of

discovering it, and without Saat I should have had no information of

their plots.

 

Not only was the boy trustworthy, but he had an extraordinary amount of

moral in addition to physical courage. If any complaint were made, and

Saat was called as a witness—far from the shyness too often evinced

when the accuser is brought face to face with the accused—such was

Saat’s proudest moment; and, no matter who the man might be, the boy

would challenge him, regardless of all consequences. We were very fond

of this boy; he was thoroughly good; and in that land of iniquity,

thousands of miles away from all except what was evil, there was a

comfort in having some one innocent and faithful, in whom to trust.

 

We were to start upon the following Monday. Mahommed had paid me a

visit, assuring me of his devotion, and begging me to have my baggage in

marching order, as he would send me fifty porters on the Monday, and we

would move off in company. At the very moment that he thus professed, he

was coolly deceiving me. He had arranged to start without me on the

Saturday, while he was proposing to march together on the Monday. This I

did not know at the time.

 

One morning I had returned to the tent after having, as usual, inspected

the transport animals, when I observed Mrs. Baker looking

extraordinarily pale, and immediately upon my arrival she gave orders

for the presence of the vakeel (headman). There was something in her

manner, so different to her usual calm, that I was utterly bewildered

when I heard her question the vakeel, “Whether the men were willing to

march?” Perfectly ready, was the reply. “Then order them to strike the

tent, and load the animals; we start this moment.” The man appeared

confused, but not more so than I. Something was evidently on foot, but

what I could not conjecture. The vakeel wavered, and to my astonishment

I heard the accusation made against him, that, “during the night, the

whole of the escort had mutinously conspired to desert me, with my arms

and ammunition that were in their hands, and to fire simultaneously at

me should I attempt to disarm them.” At first this charge was

indignantly denied until the boy Saat manfully stepped forward, and

declared that the conspiracy was entered into by the whole of the

escort, and that both he and Richarn, knowing that mutiny was intended,

had listened purposely to the conversation during the night; at daybreak

the boy reported the fact to his mistress. Mutiny, robbery, and murder

were thus deliberately determined.

 

I immediately ordered an angarep (travelling bedstead) to be placed

outside the tent under a large tree; upon this I laid five

double-barrelled guns loaded with buck shot, a revolver, and a naked

sabre as sharp as a razor. A sixth rifle I kept in my hands while I sat

upon the angarep, with Richarn and Saat both with double-barrelled guns

behind me. Formerly I had supplied each of my men with a piece of

mackintosh waterproof to be tied over the locks of their guns during the

march. I now ordered the drum to be beat, and all the men to form in

line in marching order, with their locks TIED UP IN THE WATERPROOF. I

requested Mrs. Baker to stand behind me, and to point out any man who

should attempt to uncover his locks, when I should give the order to lay

down their arms. The act of uncovering the locks would prove his

intention, in which event I intended to shoot him immediately, and take

my chance with the rest of the conspirators. I had quite determined that

these scoundrels should not rob me of my own arms and ammunition, if I

could prevent it.

 

The drum beat, and the vakeel himself went into the men’s quarters, and

endeavoured to prevail upon them to answer the call. At length fifteen

assembled in line; the others were nowhere to be found. The locks of the

arms were secured by mackintosh as ordered; it was thus impossible for

any man to fire at me until he should have released his locks.

 

Upon assembling in line I ordered them immediately to lay down their

arms. This, with insolent looks of defiance, they refused to do. “Down

with your guns this moment,” I shouted, “sons of dogs!” And at the sharp

click of the locks, as I quickly cocked the rifle that I held in my

hands, the cowardly mutineers widened their line and wavered. Some

retreated a few paces to the rear; others sat down, and laid their guns

on the ground; while the remainder slowly dispersed, and sat in twos, or

singly, under the various trees about eighty paces distant. Taking

advantage of their indecision, I immediately rose and. ordered my vakeel

and Richarn to disarm them as they were thus scattered. Foreseeing that

the time had arrived for actual physical force, the cowards capitulated,

agreeing to give up their arms and ammunition if I would give them their

written discharge. I disarmed them immediately, and the vakeel having

written a discharge for the fifteen men present, I wrote upon each paper

the word “mutineer” above my signature. None of them being able to read,

and this being written in English, they unconsciously carried the

evidence of their own guilt, which I resolved to punish should I ever

find them on my return to Khartoum.

 

Thus disarmed, they immediately joined other of the traders’ parties.

These fifteen men were the “Jalyns” of my party, the remainder being

Dongolowas: both Arabs of the Nile, north of Khartoum. The Dongolowas

had not appeared when summoned by the drum, and my vakeel being of their

nation, I impressed upon him his responsibility for the mutiny, and that

he would end his days in prison at Khartoum should my expedition fail.

 

The boy Saat and Richarn now assured me that the men had intended to

fire at me, but that they were frightened at seeing us thus prepared,

but that I must not expect one man of the Dongolowas to be any more

faithful than the Jalyns. I ordered the vakeel to hunt up the men, and

to bring me their guns, threatening that if they refused I would shoot

any man that I found with one of my guns in his hands.

 

There was no time for mild measures. I had only Saat (a mere child), and

Richarn, upon whom I could depend; and I resolved with them alone to

accompany Mahommed’s people to the interior, and to trust to good

fortune for a chance of proceeding.

 

I was feverish and ill with worry and anxiety, and I was lying down upon

my mat, when I suddenly heard guns firing in all directions, drums

beating, and the customary signs of either an arrival or departure of a

trading party. Presently a messenger