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

class="calibre1">darkened in many places by the shadows of isolated trees and clumps of

forest. Continuing along this agreeable route, we suddenly arrived at a

spot where numerous well-beaten paths branched into all directions. This

was extreme confusion. We had left the direct route to Foweera when we

had made the detour to avoid the M’was’ camp. I knew that, as we had

then turned to the north, our course should now be due east. There was a

path leading in that direction; but just as we were quietly deliberating

upon the most advisable course, we heard distant voices. Any voice in

this neighbourhood I concluded must be that of an enemy, therefore I

ordered my people to sit down, while two men concealed themselves on the

borders of a jungle, about a hundred yards distant, as sentries.

 

I then sent Bacheeta and one of the guides towards the spot from which

the sound of voices had proceeded, to listen to their language, and to

report whether they were M’was, or people of Foweera. The spies started

cautiously on their errand.

 

About five minutes passed in utter silence; the voices that we had heard

had ceased. We were very cold, being wet through with the dew. My wife

was much fatigued, and now rested by sitting on the bag of blankets. I

was afraid of remaining long in inaction, lest she should become stiff

and be unable to march.

 

We had been thus waiting for about ten minutes, when we were suddenly

startled by the most fearful and piercing yell I ever heard. This

proceeded from the jungle where one of my men was on guard, about a

hundred yards distant.

 

For the moment I thought he had been caught by a lion, and cocking my

rifle, I ran towards the spot. Before I reached the jungle I saw one of

the sentries running in the same direction, and two other figures

approaching, one being dragged along by the throat by my man Moosa. He

had a prisoner. It appeared, that while he was crouching beneath the

bushes at the entrance of the main path that led through the jungle, he

suddenly observed a man quietly stealing along the forest close to him.

He waited, unobserved, until the figure had passed him, when he quickly

sprang upon him from behind, seizing his spear with his left hand and

grasping his throat with his right.

 

This sudden and unexpected attack from an unseen enemy had so terrified

the native that he had uttered the extraordinary yell that had startled

our party. He was now triumphantly led by his captor, but he was so

prostrated by fear that he trembled as though in an ague fit. I

endeavoured to reassure him, and Bacheeta shortly returning with the

guide, we discovered the value of our prize.

 

Far from being an enemy, he was one of Kalloe’s men, who had been sent

to spy the M’was from Foweera: thus we had a dependable guide. This

little incident was as refreshing as a glass of sherry during the

night’s march, and we enjoyed a hearty laugh. Bacheeta had been

unsuccessful in finding the origin of the voices, as they had ceased

shortly after she had left us. It appeared that our captive had also

heard the voices, and he was stealthily endeavouring to ascertain the

cause when he was so roughly seized by Moosa. We now explained to him

our route, and he at once led the way, relieving the native who had

hitherto carried the bag of blankets. We had made a considerable circuit

by turning from the direct path, but we now had the advantage of seeing

the open country before us, and marching upon a good and even path. We

walked for about three hours from this spot at a brisk pace, my wife

falling three times from sheer fatigue, which induced stumbling over the

slightest inequalities in the road. At length we descended a valley, and

crossing a slight hollow, we commenced the ascent of a gentle

inclination upon a beautiful grassy undulation crowned by a clump of

large trees. In the stillness of the night wherever we had halted we had

distinctly heard the distant roar of the river; but the sound had so

much increased within the last hour that I felt convinced we must be

near Foweera at the bend of the Victoria Nile. My wife was so exhausted

with the long march, rendered doubly fatiguing by the dew that had added

additional weight to her clothes, that she could hardly ascend the hill

we had just commenced. For the last hour our guide had declared that

Foweera was close to us; but experienced in natives’ descriptions of

distance, we were quite uncertain as to the hour at which we should

arrive. We were already at the top of the hill, and within about two

hundred yards of the dense clump of trees my wife was obliged to confess

that she could go no farther. Just at that moment a cock crowed; another

replied immediately from the clump of trees close to us, and the guide,

little appreciating the blessing of his announcement, told us that we

had arrived at Kalloe’s village, for which we were bound.

 

It was nearly 5 A.M., and we had marched from Deang at 9 P.M. There was

some caution required in approaching the village, as, should one of the

Turks’ sentries be on guard, he would in all probability fire at the

first object he might see, without a challenge. I therefore ordered my

men to shout, while I gave my well-known whistle that would be a signal

of our arrival. For some time we exerted our lungs in this manner before

we received a reply, and I began to fear that our people were not at

this village: at length a well-known voice replied in Arabic. The

sentries and the whole party were positively ASLEEP, although close to

an enemy’s country. They were soon awake when it was reported that we

had arrived, and upon our entering the village they crowded around us

with the usual welcome. A large fire was lighted in a spacious hut, and

fortunately, the portmanteau having preceded us together with the

ammunition, we were provided with a change of clothes.

 

I slept for a couple of hours, and then sent for the chief of Foweera,

Kalloe. Both he and his son appeared; they said that their spies had

reported that the M’was would attack this village on the following day;

that they had devastated the entire country and occupied the whole of

Unyoro and Chopi; that they had cut off a large herd of cattle belonging

to Kamrasi, and he had only just reached the island in time for

security, as the enemy had arrived at the spot and killed a number of

people who were too late to embark. Kalloe reported that Kamrasi had

fired at the M’was from the island, but having no bullets his rifle was

useless. The M’was had returned the fire, being provided with four guns

that they had procured from Speke’s deserters;—they were in the same

condition as Kamrasi, having no bullets; thus a harmless fusilade had

been carried on by both parties. The M’was had retired from their

position on the bank of the river by Kamrasi’s island, and had proceeded

to Atada, which they had destroyed.

 

They were now within three miles of us; nevertheless the foolish Kalloe

expressed his determination of driving his cattle to Kamrasi’s island

for security, about two miles distant. I endeavoured to persuade him

that they would be perfectly safe if under our protection, but his only

reply was to order his son to drive them off immediately.

 

That day, Kalloe and all the natives quitted the village and fled to an

island for security, leaving us masters of the position. I served out a

quantity of ammunition to the Turks, and we were perfectly prepared. The

drums of the M’was were heard in all directions both day and night; but

we were perfectly comfortable, as the granaries were well filled, and

innumerable fowls stored both this and the closely adjoining deserted

villages.

 

On the following day M’Gambi appeared with a message from Kamrasi,

begging us to come and form a camp on the bank of the river opposite to

his island to protect him from the M’was, who would assuredly return and

attack him in canoes. I told him plainly that I should not interfere to

assist him, as he had left me on the road at Deang; that Richarn had

been killed by his people, and that one of my guns was still in their

possession, added to which I had been obliged to forsake all my baggage,

owing to the desertion of the porters;—for all these errors I should

hold Kamrasi responsible. He replied that he did not think Richarn was

killed, but that he had shot the chief of a village dead, having got

into some quarrel with the natives.

 

The conversation ended by my adhering to my intention of remaining

independent at Foweera. M’Gambi said they were very miserable on the

island, that no one could rest day or night for the mosquitoes, and that

they were suffering from famine;—he had several men with him, who at

once set to work to thrash out corn from the well-filled granaries of

the village, and they departed heavily laden. During the day a few

natives of the district found their way into the village for a similar

purpose. I had previously heard that the inhabitants of Foweera were

disaffected, and that many were in correspondence with the enemy. I

accordingly instructed Bacheeta to converse with the people, and to

endeavour through them to get into communication with the M’was,

assuring them that I should remain neutral, unless attacked, but if

their intentions were hostile I was quite ready to fight. At the same

time I instructed her to explain that I should be sorry to fire at the

servants of M’tese, as he had behaved well to my friends Speke and

Grant, but that the best way to avoid a collision would be for the M’was

to keep at a distance from my camp. Bacheeta told me that this assurance

would be certain to reach the chief of the M’was, as many of the natives

of Chopi were in league with them against Kamrasi.

 

In the afternoon of that day I strolled outside the village with some of

my men to accompany the party to the drinking place from which we

procured our water; it was about a quarter of a mile from the camp, and

it was considered dangerous for any one to venture so far without the

protection of an armed party.

 

We had just returned, and were standing in the cool of the evening on

the lawn opposite the entrance of the camp, when one of my men came

rushing towards us, shouting, “Richarn! Richarn’s come back!” In another

moment I saw with extreme delight the jet black Richarn, whom I had

mourned as lost, quietly marching towards us. The meeting was almost

pathetic. I took him warmly by the hand and gave him a few words of

welcome, but my vakeel, who had never cared for him before, threw

himself upon his neck and burst out crying like a child. How long this

sobbing would have continued I know not, as several of my Arabs caught

the infection and began to be lachrymose, while Richarn, embraced on all

sides, stood the ordeal most stoically, looking extremely bewildered,

but totally unconscious of the cause of so much weeping. To change the

current of feeling, I told the boy Saat to fetch a large gourd-shell of

merissa (native beer), of which I had received a good supply from

Kalloe. This soon arrived, and was by