Ismailia

I never saw this ingenious application of the lever among other tribes than the Lobore. The usual method among the Madi is far more simple, but requires a certain number of men, and places the patient in an uncomfortable position. A rope is fastened to each side of the ring, upon which a number of men haul in opposite directions until they have opened the joint sufficiently to detach it from the leg.

On 29th February we were ready for the start. The loads were all prepared and arranged in separate divisions of twenty each, under the charge of selected officers and men.

The big nogara had sounded, the natives collected, and each man stood by his load; thus twenty-five gangs of twenty each should have stood in line.

I now discovered that the vaunted honesty of the Lobore was of the same order as that of other negroes. Five hundred cows had been given to as many natives, for all of which the sheik Abbio had declared himself responsible. The big nogara sounded in vain. After waiting for some hours, and sending numerous messengers to as many villages, only 433 carriers could be mustered; thus sixty-seven had eloped with as many cows!

No one can imagine the trouble of such a journey with so long a retinue of carriers, most of whom are dishonest, and only seek an opportunity to abscond upon the road.

The Lobore are immensely powerful men, and they carried the boxes of Hale's rockets as single loads, although weighing upwards of seventy-two pounds. At the same time they quarrelled among themselves as to the choice of parcels, and I could with difficulty prevail upon them to carry the zinc boat, although it did not exceed 130 lbs. Four men actually refused to touch it, as it sat uneasily upon their heads.

This handy little vessel was made of zinc upon an iron framework, and would contain four people upon a pinch, but would easily convey three across a river. I had arranged it upon two stout bamboos so adjusted that four men should have carried it with ease. The natives demanded eight, but I at length compromised for six.

The delay caused by the non-appearance of the sixty-seven carriers was extremely dangerous, as it increased the chance of desertions. Already many had volunteered to search for their missing friends, which would have resulted in a search for them also, until my body of carriers would have melted away.

Fortunately I had made a considerable allowance for desertions on the road, and I could manage to start with the assistance of the soldiers and their wives, among whom I divided many baskets of flour.

At 3.25 P.M. we started.

There was no danger now that we had passed the Bari tribe, therefore we could push on with an advance guard of five picked men of "The Forty," who always accompanied us, and leave the charge of the march and baggage to Colonel Abd-el-Kader and the various officers.

We accordingly marched, at four miles an hour, through a rocky and hilly country, generally wooded, which would have been an awkward position if held by an enemy.

At 6 P.M. we halted at a rocky ravine where water had been expected by our guide. To our dismay we found it nearly dry, and it was necessary to dig temporary wells in the sand to procure a supply for ourselves, while the horses were forced to content themselves with the impure pool.

It quickly became dark, and the troops and baggage were far behind. We therefore gathered wood and made a blazing fire to show our position; at the same time a bugler and drummer who had accompanied us, made as much noise as possible from the summit of a small hill.

At 7.30 P.M. the cattle arrived by torchlight, together with the troops and baggage. Some of the Lobore carriers had already deserted on the road, which had caused much delay.

We had marched nine miles, but it was absolutely necessary to send four men back to Lobore, to insist upon fresh carriers being immediately sent to replace the runaways.

On March 1 we started at half-past six A.M., after a terrific scramble for loads by 400 Lobore carriers, who rushed in and tugged and wrestled for their packages like wolves over a carcase. Boxes were turned upside down, and carried in that manner with an utter disregard for the contents.

The inverted canteen was discovered upon the head of a brutal Lobore, whose body was being basted with Cognac and gin that showered from the loosened stoppers of the decanters.

I never saw such a wild pack of savages; they were only fit to carry the elephants' tusks of the traders; but any civilized baggage ran a risk of instant destruction.

The old sheik, Abbio, had given me his son to keep order among the people. This young man was about twenty-seven years of age, but, although respectable in appearance, he did not appear to have the slightest control over his people, and he regarded their desertions with seeming indifference.

I had a strong suspicion that he might quietly abscond at night, in which case every man might instantly follow his example. I therefore ordered a light thong of leather to be attached to the iron collar worn as an ornament upon his neck, and I trusted him to the surveillance of a couple of soldiers told off as his guard of honour.

We marched south for sixteen miles through a fine country of hills and low forest, where the villages of the Madi had been mostly destroyed by the slave-hunting parties of Abou Saood.

We passed large tracts of land that had formerly been in a high state of cultivation, and the charred remains of numerous villages bespoke the desolation caused by these brigands of the White Nile. The road was well watered by many small streams in deep gorges, until we descended to the Asua river. This was just twenty-five miles from our camp at Lobore, in latitude N., by observation, 3 degrees 43 minutes.

We happened to arrive at the spot where the river Atabbi joined the Asua. At this junction the Atabbi was perfectly clear, while the Asua was muddy, which proved that heavy rain had fallen in the Madi and Shooli countries, while the weather was dry in the mountains of Obbo.

The Asua flowed through a fine forest, but although the water was muddy from recent rains, the volume at this season was confined to a portion of the bed, in the deepest parts of which it did not exceed two feet six inches. The bed from bank to bank was about 120 yards in width, and the maximum rise of the river was about twelve feet. During the wet season this is a frightful torrent that acts as a barrier to any advance or retreat of troops encumbered with baggage.

Having waded through the river, we halted under the shady trees on the south side; here there was excellent herbage for the cattle, as the young grass after the annual fires was now about eight inches high, upon the rich soil near the river's bank.

Whenever we halted during daylight, I took a stroll with the rifle, accompanied by Lieutenant Baker.

We walked for some time along the banks of the river up stream without seeing any game, and I was struck with the absence of tracks of the larger animals, which coincided with my remarks on the Asua river many years previous, when I crossed it about thirty miles higher up, on my route from Latooka to Shooa.

I expected to return without seeing game, when we suddenly spied a few waterbuck in the sandy bed of the river, about 300 paces distant.

We made a good stalk, but I only wounded the animal at which I fired at about 150 yards, and they galloped off through the open forest. I heard the bullet from the left hand barrel strike a tree stem, which saved the antelope, but having quickly reloaded, I had a clear and steady shot at a long range as the large buck suddenly stopped and looked back. I put up the last sight for 250 yards and took a full bead. To my great satisfaction the waterbuck with a fine set of horns dropped dead. I could not measure the distance accurately as we had to descend a rocky bank, and then, crossing the bed of the Asua, to ascend the steep north bank before we arrived at tolerably level ground.

Upon reaching the animal, I found the bullet in the neck, where it had divided the spine. I guessed the distance at about 240 yards. Some of our Lobore natives, who had kept at a distance behind us, now came up, and in a short time the noble waterbuck was cut up and the flesh carried into camp. This species of antelope, when in good condition, weighs about thirty stone (cleaned).

On March 2 we started at 6 A.M., and marched at a rapid rate along a hard and excellent path, which inclined upwards from the river for about eight miles.

The bush was very open, and in many portions the country was a succession of deep dells, which in the wet season were covered with high grass, but at this time the young grass was hardly three inches high, having sprouted after the recent fires.

From an altitude of about 1,000 feet above the Asua river, we had a splendid view of the entire landscape.

On the east, at about fifty miles distant, was the fine range of lofty mountains that stretched in a long line towards Latooka. On the west, on the left bank of the White Nile, which now flowed almost beneath our feet, was the precipitous mountain Neri, known by the Arab traders as Gebel huku. This fine mass of rock descends in a series of rugged terraces from a height of between three and four thousand feet to the Nile, at a point where the river boils through a narrow gorge between the mountains. It is in this passage that the principal falls take place which I witnessed in my former journey. At that time our path led along the rocky bank of the river, and was both difficult and dangerous.

Eight miles from the Asua river now brought us to the top of the pass, and having stopped for a few moments to take compass bearings, we began the somewhat steep descent.

Walking was preferable to riding, and after a distance of a couple of miles had been accomplished, we rounded the rocky hill by crossing a ravine upon our right, and the view of the promised land burst upon us.

The grand White Nile lay like a broad streak of silver on our right as it flowed in a calm, deep stream direct from the Albert N'yanza; at this spot above all cataracts. No water had as yet been broken by a fall; the troubles of river-life lay in the future; the journey to the sea might be said to have only just commenced. Here the entire volume flowed from the Albert N'yanza, distant hardly one degree; and here had I always hoped to bring my steamers, as the starting-point for the opening of the heart of Africa to navigation. (This has since been proved correct by the efforts of my successor, Colonel Gordon, who carried the 38-ton steamer which I had left at Gondokoro to this point above the cataracts, and constructed her at Duffle on the opposite bank. This vessel steamed into the Albert N'yanza without any difficulty, and corroborated my assertion that the river was navigable. It may be remembered that many geographers had contested the fact that the Nile was an effluent from the Albert N'yanza.)

I was deeply mortified when I gazed upon this lovely view, and reflected upon the impossibilities that had prevented my success. Had the White Nile been open as formerly, I should have transported the necessary camels from Khartoum, and there would have been no serious difficulty in the delivery of the steamers to this point. Two or three strong pioneer parties, with native assistance, would quickly have bridged over the narrow water-courses and have cleared a rough road through the forests as the carts advanced.

It was useless to repine. I still hoped to accomplish the work.

We now descended into the beautiful plain, to which I had given the name Ibrahimeyah, in honour of the father of his Highness the Khedive (Ibrahim Pacha).

This point is destined to become the capital of Central Africa.

The general depot for the steamers will be near the mouth of the Un-y-Ame river; which, after rising in the prairies between Fatiko and Unyoro, winds through a lovely country for about eighty miles, and falls into the White Nile opposite to Gebel Kuku. The trade of Central Africa, when developed by the steamers on the Albert N'yanza, will concentrate at this spot, whence it must be conveyed by camels for 120 miles to Gondokoro, until at some future time a railway may perhaps continue the line of steam communication.

It is a curious fact that a short line of 120 miles of railway would open up the very heart of Africa to steam transport—between the Mediterranean and the equator, when the line from Cairo to Khartoum shall be completed!

The No. 10 steamer that I had brought up to Gondokoro from Khartoum was originally built in England for the mail service (per Nile) between Alexandria and Cairo, at the time when the overland route was made by vans across the desert to Suez. This steamer had sailed from London, and had arrived complete at Alexandria.

It appears almost impossible that she is now floating at an altitude of nearly 2,000 feet above the sea level; to which great elevation she has actually steamed from the Mediterranean. Thus, starting from a base line, and producing a line perpendicular to the sea level of 2,000 feet, she has climbed up the Nile to her present high position.

Accepting the approximate length of the Nile in all its windings from the Mediterranean to N. lat. 4 degrees 38 minutes, at 3,000 miles in round numbers; this will give an average rise or fall in the river of nine inches per mile; which easily explains the position of the steamer at her most remote point below the last cataracts.

I revelled in this lovely country. The fine park-like trees were clumped in dark-green masses here and there. The tall dolape-palms (Borassus Ethiopicus) were scattered about the plain, sometimes singly, at others growing in considerable numbers. High and bold rocks; near and distant mountains; the richest plain imaginable in the foreground, with the clear Un-y-Ame flowing now in a shallow stream between its lofty banks, and the grand old Nile upon our right, all combined to form a landscape that produced a paradise.

The air was delightful. There was an elasticity of spirit, the result of a pure atmosphere, that made one feel happy in spite of many anxieties. My legs felt like steel as we strode along before the horses, with rifle on shoulder, into the broad valley, in which the mountain we had descended seemed to have taken root.

The country was full of game. Antelopes in great numbers, and in some variety, started from their repose in this beautiful wilderness, and having for a few moments regarded the strange sights of horses, and soldiers in scarlet uniform, they first trotted, and then cantered far away. The graceful leucotis stood in herds upon the river's bank, and was the last to retreat.

I selected a shady spot within a grove of heglik-trees for a bivouac, and leaving my wife with a guard, and the horses, I at once started off with Lieutenant Baker to procure some venison.

We returned after a couple of hours, having shot five antelopes. The native name for this part of the country is Afuddo. Our present halting place was thirty-seven miles from Lobore. Formerly there were villages in this neighbourhood, but they had been destroyed by the slave-hunters. Fortunately I had prepared a stock of flour sufficient for the entire journey to Fatiko.

In my last visit to this country I had thoroughly studied its features; thus I felt quite at home, and I knew my route in every direction. The mountain of Shooa was distinctly visible, where I had camped for four or five months, thus it would be impossible for the Lobore people to deceive me.

Abou Saood had four stations throughout this lovely district, i.e., Fatiko, Fabbo, Faloro, and Farragenia. I was now steering for Fatiko, as it was a spot well known to me, and exactly on my proposed road to Unyoro.

On 3rd March, we marched at 6 A.M., and continued along the plain towards the rising ground that led to Shooa. At six miles from the halting place we took bearings:

Shooa hill, about 35 miles distant, bearing 162 1/2 degrees Akiko hill about 16 miles distant, bearing 321 1/2 degrees Gebel Kuku about 9 miles distant, 299 1/2 degrees

Our course lay towards the S.S.E., beneath a wall-like range of precipitous rocky hills upon our left, in no place higher than 200 feet. The guides were at fault, and no water could be found upon the road.

A herd of tetel (Antelope Bubalis) upon our right tempted me, and, jumping off my horse, I made a fair stalk and killed a fine beast with the "Dutchman" at 210 yards.

Every one was thirsty, as the sun was hot, and the wall-like, rocks upon our left reflected the heat. At length we discovered natives squatting upon the very summits of the perpendicular cliffs, and after some trouble we succeeded in coaxing them down. Two of these people volunteered to lead us to water, and they took us to a steep rocky ravine, in the bottom of which was a pool of dirty liquid that had been bathed in by wild buffaloes. My men quickly began to dig sand-wells with their hands, until the main body of the troops and cattle arrived.

In about an hour, I heard a great hubbub, with a noise of quarrelling and shouting; every one was running towards the spot. It appeared that a wild buffalo, being ignorant of our arrival, had suddenly visited his drinking-place, and had thoughtlessly descended the deep and narrow gorge to drink his evening draught. The Lobores had espied him, and they immediately rushed down and overwhelmed him with lances from the cliffs above. There was now an extraordinary scene over the carcase; four hundred men scrambling over a mass of blood and entrails, fighting and tearing with each other, and cutting off pieces of flesh with their lance-heads, with which they escaped as dogs may retreat with a stolen bone.

On 4th March we started at 6.25 A.M. The advent of the buffalo was a sad misfortune, as it had supplied the natives with sufficient flesh to feed them on the road home; thus thirty Lobores had absconded during the night.

Fortunately we had already consumed many loads of flour. I was now obliged to divide two days rations among the troops as extra weight. The light loads were then doubled. Brandy boxes of twelve bottles were now lashed together, so as to form a load of twenty-four. Several boxes of gin had been entirely destroyed by the savage carriers, who had allowed them to fall upon the rocks.

Having crossed the bends of the Un-y-Ame river twice, we halted for the night in fine open forest on the south bank, beneath a large tamarind-tree, that yielded an abundant supply of fruit for all hands.

We had only marched ten miles, owing to the delay occasioned by the desertion of the carriers.

On 5th March I led the way, as the Lobore guide professed ignorance of the route to Fatiko. The fact was, that the Lobores had wished on the previous day to take me to Farragenia, which is two days nearer than Fatiko. Had I been ignorant of the country, we should have been deceived.

I steered through low open forest, the leaves of which had been scorched off by the fire that had cleared the country. Neither a village nor the print of a human foot could be seen. This beautiful district that had formerly abounded in villages had been depopulated by the slave-hunters.

Having taken the Shooa mountain for a steering point, we reached the spot where in former years I had passed five months in the camp of Ibrahim. This also had been destroyed, in addition to all the numerous villages of the mountain. We had marched fourteen miles.

I gave orders that on the morrow all the troops were to appear in their best uniforms, as we were only six miles from Fatiko, the principal station, where I fully expected to meet Abou Saood himself.

CHAPTER XVI

ARRIVAL AT FATIKO

ON 6th March, 1872, we started from the bivouac at the base of the Shooa mountain at 6.10 A.M.

The troops were in excellent spirits, the air was fresh and cool in this elevated country, the horses had been well groomed, and the arms and accoutrements had been burnished on the previous afternoon, in order to make a good appearance before my old friends the natives of Fatiko and Shooa.

The bright scarlet uniforms and snow-white linen trousers of 212 men looked extremely gay upon the fresh green grass, which had lately sprung up throughout this beautiful park.

There was no enemy in this country. From a former residence of five months at Shooa, both my wife and myself were well known to the inhabitants, and I felt sure that our arrival would be hailed with gladness. In my former visit I had been a successful hunter, and had always given the flesh to the natives; thus, as the road to a negro's heart is through his stomach, I knew that my absence must have been felt, and that the recollections of past times would be savoury and agreeable.

I had with me a herd of 1,078 cows and 194 sheep. No guard was necessary, and I intrusted the stock to the care of the three boatmen, and my Bari interpreter, Morgian.

The line of march was thus arranged:—Myself, with my wife and Lieutenant Baker, on horseback in advance, preceded by the guard of five of the "Forty Thieves." Then came Colonel Abd-el-Kader and the remaining forty-three, composing the gallant "Forty." After which came the regiment, all necessarily in single file. Then came the baggage with 400 carriers, followed by the herd of cattle.

All our boys were dressed in their scarlet uniforms, and the girls and women generally had dressed in their best clothes. Little Cuckoo as usual carried my small travelling-bag upon his head, and kept his line with the other boys, all of whom assumed an air that was intended to be thoroughly regimental.

In this order the march commenced. The distance was only six miles. This was as lovely a route as could be conceived.

Magnificent trees (acacias), whose thick, dark foliage drooped near the ground, were grouped in clumps, springing from the crevices between huge blocks of granite. Brooks of the purest water rippled over the time-worn channels cut through granite plateaux, and as we halted to drink at the tempting stream, the water tasted as cold as though from an European spring.

The entire country on our left was a succession of the most beautiful rocky undulations and deep verdant glades, at the bottom of which flowed perennial streams. The banks of these rivulets were richly clothed with ornamental timber, the green foliage contrasting strongly with the dark grey blocks of granite resembling the ruins of ancient towers.

We travelled along a kind of hog's back, which formed the watershed to the west. As we ascended, until we reached a large plateau of clean granite of about two acres, we broke upon a magnificent panorama, which commanded an extensive view of the whole country.

On the west, we looked down upon the plains through which we had arrived, and the view stretched far away beyond the Nile, until it met the horizon bounded by the grey outline of the distant mountains.

No one could feel unhappy in such a scene. I trod upon my old ground, every step of which I knew, and I felt an exhilaration of spirits at the fact that I was once more here in the new capacity of a deliverer, who would be welcomed with open arms by the down-trodden natives of this country.

Having descended from the clean plateau of rock, we carefully rode across a slippery channel that had been worn by the sandy torrents of the rainy season, and once more arrived at level ground. We were now on the great table-land of Fatiko.

Upon our left, a mass of bold ruins, the granite skeleton remains of a perished mountain, which formed a shelter from the morning sun, tempted us to halt.

We had thus suddenly appeared upon the greensward of the plateau without the slightest warning to the inhabitants of Fatiko. About a mile before us stood the large station of Abou Saood, which occupied at least thirty acres. On our right we were hemmed in by a wall of granite, sloped like a huge whale, about three-quarters of a mile long and 100 feet high. The southern extremity of this vast block of clean granite was the rocky and fantastic hill of Fatiko crested with fine timber. To our left, and straight before us, was a perfectly flat plain like a race-course, the south end being a curious and beautiful assemblage of immense granite blocks, and groups of weeping acacia.

A large village occupied the base of Fatiko hill … The bugles and drums sounded "the advance." The echoes rang from the hard granite rock as the unusual sound gave the first warning of our presence.