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

Shooa—thus we were a party of twenty guns, including the Turks,

who unfortunately had no ammunition.

 

There was no doubt about the truth of the intelligence; the natives

seemed in great consternation, as the M’was were far more powerful than

Kamrasi’s people, and every invasion from that country had been attended

with the total rout of the Unyoro forces. I told M’Gambi that messengers

must be sent off at once to Shooa with a letter that I would write to

Ibrahim, summoning him immediately to Karuma with a force of 100 men; at

the same time I suggested that we should leave Kisoona and march with

Kamrasi’s army direct to Karuma, there to establish a fortified camp to

command the passage of the river, and to secure a number of canoes to

provide a passage for Ibrahim’s people whenever they could effect a

junction:—otherwise, the M’was might destroy the boats and cut off

the Turks on their arrival at the ferry. Kisoona was an exceedingly

disadvantageous situation, as it was a mere forest of trees and tangled

herbage ten or twelve feet high, in which the enemy could approach us

unperceived, secure from our guns. M’Gambi quite approved of my advice,

and hurried off to the king, who, as usual in cases of necessity, came

to me without delay. He was very excited, and said that messengers

arrived four or five times a day, bringing reports of every movement of

the enemy, who were advancing rapidly in three divisions, one by the

route direct from M’rooli to Karuma that I had followed on my arrival at

Atada, another direct to Kisoona, and a third between these two

parallels, so as to cut off his retreat to an island in the Nile, where

he had formerly taken refuge when his country was invaded by the same

people. I begged him not to think of retiring to the island, but to take

my advice and fight it out, in which case I should be happy to assist

him, as I was his guest, and I had a perfect right to repel any

aggression.

 

Accordingly I drew a plan of operations, showing how a camp could be

formed on the cliff above Karuma Falls, having two sides protected by

the river, while a kraal could be formed in the vicinity completely

commanded by our guns, where his cattle would remain in perfect

security. He listened with wandering eyes to all military arrangements,

and concluded by abandoning all idea of resistance, but resolutely

adhering to his plan of flight to the island that had protected him on a

former occasion.

 

We could only agree upon two points, the evacuation of Kisoona as

untenable, and the necessity of despatching a summons to Ibrahim

immediately. The latter decision was acted upon that instant, and

runners were despatched with a letter to Shooa. Kamrasi decided to wait

until the next morning for reports from expected messengers on the

movements of the enemy, otherwise he might run into the very jaws of the

danger he wished to avoid; and he promised to send porters to carry us

and our effects, should it be necessary to march to Karuma: with this

understanding, he departed. Bacheeta now assured me that the M’was were

so dreaded by the Unyoro people that nothing would induce them to fight;

therefore I must not depend upon Kamrasi in any way, but must make

independent arrangements: she informed me, that the invasion was caused

by accounts given to M’tese by Goobo Goolah, one of Speke’s deserters,

who had run away from Kamrasi shortly after our arrival in the country,

and had reported to M’tese, the king of Uganda, that we were on our way

to pay him a visit with many valuable presents, but that Kamrasi had

prevented us from proceeding, in order to monopolise the merchandise.

Enraged at this act of his great enemy Kamrasi, he had sent spies to

corroborate the testimony of Goobo Goolah (these were the four men who

had appeared some weeks ago), which being confirmed, he had sent an army

to destroy both Kamrasi and his country, and to capture us and lead us

to his capital. This was the explanation of the affair given by

Bacheeta, who, with a woman’s curiosity and tact, picked up information

in the camps almost as correctly as a Times correspondent.

 

This was very enjoyable—the monotony of our existence had been

unbearable, and here was an invigorating little difficulty with just

sufficient piquancy to excite our spirits. My men were so thoroughly

drilled and accustomed to complete obedience and dependence upon my

guidance, that they had quite changed their characters. I called

Eddrees, gave him ten rounds of ball cartridge for each of his men, and

told him to keep with my party should we be obliged to march: he

immediately called a number of natives and concealed all his ivory in

the jungle. At about 9 P.M. the camp was in an uproar; suddenly drums

beat in all quarters, in reply to nogaras that sounded the alarm in

Kamrasi’s camp; horns bellowed; men and women yelled; huts were set on

fire; and in the blaze of light hundreds of natives, all armed and

dressed for war, rushed frantically about, as usual upon such occasions,

gesticulating, and engaging in mock fight with each other, as though

full of valour and boiling over with a desire to meet the enemy.

Bacheeta, who was a sworn enemy to Kamrasi, was delighted at his

approaching discomfiture. As some of the most desperate looking

warriors, dressed with horns upon their heads, rushed up to us

brandishing their spears, she shouted in derision, “Dance away, my boys!

Now’s your time when the enemy is far away; but if you see a M’was as

big as the boy Saat, you will run as fast as your legs can carry you.”

 

The M’was were reported to be so close to Kisoona that their nogaras had

been heard from Kamrasi’s position, therefore we were to be ready to

march for Atada before daybreak on the following morning. There was

little sleep that night, as all the luggage had to be packed in

readiness for the early start. Cassave, who could always be depended

upon, arrived at my hut, and told me that messengers had reported that

the M’was had swept everything before them, having captured all the

women and cattle of the country and killed a great number of people;

that they had seen the light of burning villages from Kamrasi’s camp,

and that it was doubtful whether the route was open to Atada. I

suggested that men should be sent on in advance, to report if the path

were occupied: this was immediately done.

 

Before daybreak on the following morning an immense volume of light with

dense clouds of smoke in the direction of Kamrasi’s position showed that

his camp had been fired, according to custom, and that his retreat had

commenced;—thousands of grass huts were in flames, and I could not

help being annoyed at the folly of these natives at thus giving the

enemy notice of their retreat, by a signal that could be seen at many

miles’ distance, when success depended upon rapid and secret movements.

 

Shortly after these signs of the march, crowds of women, men, cows,

goats, and luggage appeared, advancing in single file through a grove of

plantains and passing within twenty yards of us in an endless string. It

was pouring with rain, and women carrying their children were slipping

along the muddy path, while throngs of armed men and porters pushed

rudely by, until at last the gallant Kamrasi himself appeared with a

great number of women (his wives), several of whom were carried on

litters, being too fat to walk. He took no notice of me as he passed by.

M’Gambi was standing by me, and he explained that we were to close the

rear, Kamrasi having concluded that it was advisable to have the guns

between him and the enemy.

 

For upwards of an hour the crowd of thousands of people and cattle filed

past; at length the last straggler closed the line of march. But where

were our promised porters? Not a man was forthcoming, and we were now

the sole occupants of the deserted village, excepting M’Gambi and

Cassave. These men declared that the people were so frightened that no

one would remain to carry us and ours effects, but that they would go to

a neighbouring villa and bring porters to convey us to Foweera tomorrow,

as that was the spot where Kamrasi wished us to camp; at Foweera there

was no high grass, and the country was perfectly open, so that the

rifles could command an extensive range. The cunning and duplicity of

Kamrasi were extraordinary—he promised, only to deceive; his object

in leaving us here was premeditated, as he knew that the M’was, should

they pursue him, must fight us before they could follow on his path; we

were therefore to be left to defend his rear. The order to camp at

Foweera had a similar motive. I knew the country, as we had passed it on

our march from Atada to M’rooli; it was about three miles from Karuma

Falls, and would form a position in Kamrasi’s rear when he should

locate, himself upon the island. Foweera was an excellent military

point, as it was equidistant from the Nile north and east at the angle

where the river turned to the west from Atada.

 

I was so annoyed at the deception practised by Kamrasi that I determined

to fraternise with the M’was, should they appear at Kisoona; and I made

up my mind not to fire a shot except in absolute necessity for so

faithless an ally as the king. This I explained to M’Gambi, and

threatened that if porters were not supplied I would wait at Kisoona,

join the M’was on their arrival, and with them as allies I would attack

the island which Kamrasi boasted was his stronghold. This idea

frightened M’Gambi, and both he and Cassave started to procure porters,

promising most faithfully to appear that evening, and to start together

to Foweera on the following morning. We were a party of twenty guns;

there was no fear in the event of an attack. I ordered all the huts of

the village to be burned except those belonging to our men; thus we had

a clear space for the guns in case of necessity. In the evening, true to

his promise, M’Gambi appeared with a number of natives, but Cassave had

followed Kamrasi.

 

At sunrise on the following day we started, my wife in a litter, and I

in a chair. The road was extremely bad, excessively muddy from the rain

of yesterday, trodden deeply by the hoofs of herds of cattle, and by the

feet of the thousands that had formed Kamrasi’s army and camp followers.

There was no variety in the country, it was the same undulating land

overgrown with impenetrable grass, and wooded with mimosas; every swamp

being shaded by clumps of the graceful wild date. After a march of about

eight miles we found the route dry and dusty, the rain on the preceding

day having been partial. There was no water on the road and we were all

thirsty, having calculated on a supply from the heavy rain. Although

many thousands of people had travelled on the path so recently as the

previous day, it was nevertheless narrow and hemmed in by the high

grass, as the crowd had marched in single file and had therefore not

widened the route. This caused great delay to the porters who carried

the litter, as they marched two deep; thus one man had to struggle

through the high grass. M’Gambi started off in advance of the party with

several natives at a rapid pace, while the Turks and some