Ismailia

I had dismounted from my horse, and was watching the slaver's camp with a powerful telescope, as the bugles sounded and the men fell into order.

A number of people ran out of the camp, and stared at the blaze of scarlet uniforms, which must have appeared as a larger force than the reality, owing to the bright contrast of red with the green turf.

In an instant there was confusion in the camp. I soon distinguished immense numbers of slaves being driven quickly out, and hurried away to the south. The slaver's drum beat, and a number of crimson flags were seen advancing, until they halted and formed a line close to the entrance of the village. I now saw natives rushing wildly to and fro in all directions armed with spears and shields.

Some time elapsed before the cattle and baggage arrived. In the meantime I waited, perched on a block of granite, with my telescope, watching every movement. There was no doubt that our sudden appearance had caused intense excitement. I saw men running from the trader's station to the large village opposite, at the foot of the hill.

At length, I observed two men approaching.

We were not yet ready for a general advance, therefore, as the servants and carriers, cattle, &c., fell into order, the band struck up some Turkish airs, which sounded extremely wild and appropriate to the savagely-beautiful scenery around us.

In the meantime the two messengers drew nearer. They were both filthy dirty, and appeared to be clad in dark-brown leather. One man seemed to hesitate, and stood about sixty yards distant, and demanded who we were. Upon hearing from Colonel Abdel-Kader that it was "the Pacha," and that "he need not be afraid," he told us that Abou Saood was at the station, and that he would run back with the news.

The other messenger came timidly forward, until he stood close beneath me. My wife was on horseback by my side.

Can it be possible? MOHAMMED, my old Cairo servant of former years?

The grand dragoman of the lower Nile reduced to this! My wife exclaimed,

"Ah, Mohammed, I am very glad to see you; but how wretched you appear!"

This was too much for the prodigal son; he seized my wife's hand to kiss, and burst into tears.

Poor Mohammed! he had gone through many trials since we last met. When I left him in Khartoum ill with guinea-worm in the leg, he was on his way to Cairo; but after my departure he had been tempted by the slave-traders to re-engage in the infamous but engrossing career, and he too had become a slave-hunter. He had never received any pay, as the custom of the slavers was to pay their men in slaves. Mohammed had never been fortunate in his domestic affairs; he was not a favourite of the ladies; thus his female slaves had all run away; his fortune had walked off, and he was left a beggar, with an overdrawn account in slaves.

Mohammed had never been a good English scholar, but want of practice during many years had almost obscured the light of his former learning, which was reduced to the faintest glimmer.

The bugles now sounded the "advance," and we marched forward in admirable order, with the band playing.

In the meantime, several natives had approached, and having recognized Lady Baker and myself, they immediately raced back to the village with the news.

My men looked remarkably well, and the advance into Fatiko was a sight that was entirely new to Central Africa. We were in magnificent order for work, with a hardy disciplined force of 212 men, and a stock of cattle and merchandise that would carry us to any direction I might desire.

This arrival, in such perfect organization, was a fatal blow to the hopes and intrigues of Abou Saood. I was actually among them, in the very nest and hotbed of the slavers, in spite of every difficulty.

Abou Saood came to meet me, with his usual humble appearance, as we neared his station; and he cringingly invited us to rest in some huts that had just been prepared for our reception.

I declined the invitation, and prepared to camp beneath some grand acacias, among the granite rocks, about a quarter of a mile beyond, where I had rested some years ago. I accordingly led the way, until we arrived at a very beautiful spot, among some immense granite blocks, shaded by the desired foliage. Here the word was given "Halt!" and the tent was quickly pitched in a favourable locality.

We were now distant from the junction of the Un-y-Ame river 48 miles, from Lobore 85 miles, and from Gondokoro 165 miles.

Abou Saood ordered his people to bring a number of straw-roofs from his station, to form a protection for the officers. The men quickly housed themselves in temporary huts, and the cattle were placed for the night in a regular amphitheatre of rock, which formed an excellent position.

On 8th March, I reviewed the troops, and having given the natives warning of my intention, I had a sham-fight and attack of the Fatiko mountain. Having fired several rockets at a supposed enemy, the troops advanced in two companies to the north and south extremities of the mountain, which they scaled with great activity, and joined their forces on the clean plateau of granite on the summit of the ridge. The effect was very good, and appeared to delight the natives, who had assembled in considerable numbers. After firing several volleys, the troops descended the hill, and marched back, with the band playing.

The music of our band being produced simply by a considerable number of bugles, drums, and cymbals, aided by a large military bass-drum, might not have been thought first-rate in Europe, but in Africa it was irresistible.

The natives are passionately fond of music; and I believe the safest way to travel in those wild countries would be to play the cornet, if possible without ceasing, which would insure a safe passage. A London organ-grinder would march through Central Africa followed by an admiring and enthusiastic crowd, who, if his tunes were lively, would form a dancing escort of the most untiring material.

As my troops returned to their quarters, with the band playing rather cheerful airs, we observed the women racing down from their villages, and gathering from all directions towards the common centre. As they approached nearer, the charms of music were overpowering, and, halting for an instant, they assumed what they considered the most graceful attitudes, and then danced up to the band.

In a short time my buglers could hardly blow their instruments for laughing, at the extraordinary effect of their performance. A fantastic crowd surrounded them as they halted in our position among the rocks; and every minute added to their number.

The women throughout the Shooli are entirely naked, thus the effect of a female crowd, bounding madly about as musical enthusiasts, was very extraordinary. Even the babies were brought out to dance, and these infants, strapped to their mothers' backs, and covered with pumpkin shells, like young tortoises, were jolted about without the slightest consideration for the weakness of their necks, by their infatuated mothers.

As usual, among all tribes in Central Africa, the old women were even more determined dancers than the young girls. Several old Venuses were making themselves extremely ridiculous, as they sometimes do in civilized countries when attempting the allurements of younger days.

The men did not share in the dance, but squatted upon the rocks in great numbers to admire the music, and to witness the efforts of their wives and daughters.

The men of Shooli and Fatiko are the best proportioned that I have seen; without the extreme height of the Shillooks or Dinkas, they are muscular and well knit, and generally their faces are handsome.

The women were inclined to a short stature, but were very strong and compact. It was singular, that throughout the great Shooli country, of which Fatiko is simply a district, while the women are perfectly naked, the men are partially clothed with the skin of an antelope, slung across the shoulders, and covering the lower part of the body life a scarf. In other countries that I had passed, the men were quite naked, while the women were more or less covered.

After the dance, I was visited by several natives who had known me in former years, among whom was my old guide, Gimoro, who had first led me to Unyoro. Another excellent man named Shoeli now gave me all the intelligence of the country. Both these men spoke Arabic.

It was a repetition of the old story. The country was half-ruined by the acts of Abou Saood's people. The natives were afraid to resist them in this neighbourhood, as every adjacent country had been plundered, and the women and children carried off. Abou Saood had not expected that I could leave Gondokoro; but he had told the Shooli natives to attack me if I should arrive; thus on the day of my appearance, the natives, being ignorant of my presence, had considered the dreaded Pacha must be an enemy, until they had recognized my wife and myself as their old friends.

Upon that day, when I had observed the natives running to and fro with spears and shields, Abou Saood had told them to resist me at once, and he had promised that his people should assist the Fatikos; but when the natives saw our powerful force, they had known that an attack would be useless; they had accordingly sent men to discover our intentions, and these messengers had reported my return to their country in the capacity of Pacha commanding the expedition.

My old friends now assured me, in reply to my explanation of the Khedive's intentions, that the whole country would rally around a good government, and all that the poor people desired was protection and justice. The fact of my return would give confidence throughout the country; and the news had already been carried to the great sheik, Rot Jarma, who had never visited Abou Saood or his people, but who would quickly tender his allegiance to me as the representative of the Khedive.

I told Gimoro and Shooli to inform the headmen, and the people generally throughout the country, of my pacific intentions, and to have no fear now that the government was represented, as it would be impossible that the atrocities committed by the slave-hunters of Abou Saood should recur. At the same time I explained, that in about twenty days the contract entered into between Agad and Co. with the Soudan government would expire, and Abou Saood would be compelled to withdraw all his people from the country, which would then remain solely in the hands of the Khedive.

Throughout the subsequent expedition, I could always rely upon the fidelity of these two men, Gimoro and Shooli.

After their departure to spread the good news far and wide, I had a long conversation with my old servant, Mohammed, who I knew would give me every information respecting the acts of Abou Saood and his people, as he had been among them in these parts for many years.

He told me that my arrival at Fatiko was supposed to be improbable, as the Gondokoro natives were known to be hostile to the government; therefore it would be impossible to transport the baggage. Although the Baris were at war with the government, Abou Saood had about seventy of these natives at Fatiko, armed with muskets, in his employ; thus he was openly in league with the enemies of the Khedive's government.

The report among the slave companies asserted that Abou Saood had been in league with Raoul Bey to frustrate the expedition; thus the conspiracy of the officers headed by Raouf Bey, which I had checkmated, was the grand move to effect a collapse of the expedition, and to leave a clear field for the slave-traders.

"Up to the present time, my arrangements have been able to overpower all opposition."

The success of the corn collection at the moment of the conspiracy was fatal to the machinations of Raouf Bey, and secured me the confidence of the troops.

"The success of every attack that I have personally commanded has clinched this confidence.

"The trader's people are discontented with their leaders; they are without clothes or wages.

"Their parties have been massacred in several directions by the natives. Nearly 500 loads of ivory have been burned, together with one of their stations, by a night attack of the Madi, in which the slave-hunters lost thirty-five killed, and the rest of the party only escaped in the darkness, and fled to the forests.

"Thus I come upon them at a moment when they are divided in their feelings. A dread of the government is mingled with confidence in the arrival of a strong military force, which would be auxiliary in the event of a general uprising of the country."

I found several of my old men engaged as slave-hunters. These people, who had behaved well on my former voyage, confided all the news, and were willing to serve the government. Kamrasi, the former king of Unyoro, was dead, and had been succeeded by his son, Kabba Rega.

Some few of the people of Abou Saood had been on a visit to the king M'tese at Uganda. This powerful ruler had been much improved by his personal communication with the traders of Zanzibar. He had become a Mohammedan, and had built a mosque. Even his vizier said his daily prayers like a good Mussulman, and M'tese no longer murdered his wives. If he cut the throat of either man or beast, it was now done in the name of God, and the king had become quite civilized, according to the report of the Arab envoys. He kept clerks who could correspond, by letters, in Arabic, and he had a regiment armed with a thousand guns, in addition to the numerous forces at his command.

The Arab envoys of Abou Saood had been treated like dogs by the great M'tese, and they had slunk back abashed, and were only glad to be allowed to depart. They declared that such a country would not suit their business: the people were too strong for them; and the traders from Zanzibar purchased their ivory from M'tese with cotton stuffs, silks, guns, and powder, brass-coil bracelets, beads, &c. The beads were exchanged by equal weight for ivory.

"Even at Fatiko the brass-coil bracelets from Zanzibar are now common. Some of Abou Saood's people are actually dressed in Manchester manufactures that have arrived via Zanzibar at Unyoro. This is a terrible disgrace to the Soudan authorities; thus the Zanzibar traders are purchasing by legitimate dealing ivory that should, geographically speaking, belong to Cairo.

"While fair dealing is the rule south of the equator, piracy and ruin are the rule of the north.

"Abou Saood and his people are now in a dilemma. For many years they have pillaged the country, and after having taught the natives to regard cows as the only medium of exchange for ivory, they have at length exhausted the cattle. Thus the transport of their large stock of ivory has for a time become impossible, as sufficient cows cannot be collected for the purpose.

"Every load from Fatiko to Ismailia (Gondokoro) requires two cows; one to Lobore, and another thence to the journey's end.

"By the Nile traders' arrangements, the companies of Abou Saood receive as their perquisite one-third of all the cattle that may be stolen in successful razzias.

"The consumption of cattle by these brigands is enormous. All flour is purchased in exchange for flesh, while flesh is also necessary for food; thus the cow is being eaten at both ends.

"The frightful drain upon the country may be imagined by the following calculation, which is certainly below the truth:—

"If 1,000 loads of ivory must be carried to Ismailia,

2,000 cows are required as payment of carriers;

To capture in a razzia 3,000 cows,

1000 belong to the brigands as their perquisite;

300 are necessary to feed the native carriers and soldiers

_____ during the journey;

3,300 cows are required to deliver 1,000 loads of ivory a

distance of 165 miles, from Fatiko to Ismailia (Gondokoro).

A station of 350 men consumes

daily . . . . 700 lbs.

In addition, they require to

exchange for flour . . . . 350 lbs.

—–

Daily consumption of flesh . . 1,050 lbs.

"The oxen of the country do not average more

than 170 lbs. cleaned.

2,255 beasts are thus required annually.

––

5,555 oxen are necessary to feed and pay for the transport

from a station only 350 strong; according to the

customs of White Nile brigandage.

"It must be remembered that at least a thousand, and sometimes double that number of slaves, are prisoners in each station. All these must be fed. The same principle is adopted in the exchange of flesh for flour; thus the expenditure of cattle is frightful. Not only oxen, but all the breeding cows and young calves are killed without the slightest reflection. No country can support such wilful waste; thus after many years of ravage, this beautiful province has become almost barren of cattle. The central districts occupied by the slave-traders having been denuded of cattle, it has become necessary to make journeys to distant countries."

The slave-hunters of Abou Saood had recently suffered a terrible defeat, at the hands of the warlike tribe of Umiro, which was a just reward for the horrible treachery of their party.

A man named Ali Hussein was a well-known employee of Abou Saood. This ruffian was an Arab. He was a tall, wiry fellow, with a determined but brutal cast of countenance, who was celebrated as a scoundrel among scoundrels. Even his fellows dreaded his brutality. There was no crime that he had not committed; and as his only virtue was extreme daring, his reputation was terrible among the native population.

This fellow had waited upon my orders daily since my arrival at Fatiko.

At the death of the former vakeel of Fatiko, Ali Hussein had succeeded to the command of the station.

He had arranged to make a descent upon the Umiro tribe, about six days' march to the south-east.

He accordingly sent natives as spies, with specious messages to the

Umiro, announcing his intention of visiting them to purchase ivory.

With a party increased by volunteers from other stations to a force of about 300 men, he arrived at Umiro.

The simple natives received him gladly, and showed extreme hospitality. The country was thickly populated, and abounded with vast herds of the finest cattle.

After a week's sojourn among the Umiro, during which he had received large presents of elephants' tusks, and seventy head of oxen from the confiding natives, the treacherous ruffian gave an order to his brigands at sunset. They were to be under arms an hour before daybreak on the following morning, to set fire to the adjacent villages of their generous hosts, and to capture their large herds of cattle, together with their women and children.

At the time appointed, while every Umiro slept unconscious of approaching danger, several villages were surrounded, and volleys of musketry were poured upon the sleeping inmates. The straw huts were ignited, and the flames rapidly spread, while a massacre commenced similar to the butcheries to which the slave-hunters were so well accustomed.

The Umiro, thus taken by surprise, and appalled by so dastardly a treachery, were easily defeated. Their children and wives were captured, together with large herds of cattle, which are celebrated for their size. All these were driven in triumph to Fatiko.

The success of this infernal scheme, raised the reputation of Ali Hussein to the highest pitch. The reports of the vast pastoral wealth of the Umiro excited the cupidity of the various companies in the stations of Abou Saood.

It was determined to make a grand attack upon a people, who, in spite of their warlike character, had exhibited a total want of power to resist.

Ali Hussein sent an expedition of about 350 men, in addition to a large number of Fatiko allies. They arrived on the borders of Umiro, within about an hour's march of the villages doomed to pillage. The party was under the command of a notorious ruffian named Lazim, whom I had known during my former exploration.

Upon arrival in the Umiro country, during the night after a forced march, he sent a detachment of 103 men, together with about 150 natives, to attack the villages by a surprise at dawn, and to capture the slaves and cattle in the usual manner.

The party started at the early hour of first cock-crow, while the main body under Lazim waited for the result.

Hours passed, but the company did not return. A few shots had been heard in the distance.

The country was clear and open, but nothing could be seen. There was no lowing of cattle, neither did the heavy clouds of smoke, usual on such occasions, point out the direction of burning villages.

Presently, drums were heard in every direction, the horns and whistles of the Umiro sounded the alarm, and large bodies of natives rushed across the plain to the attack of Lazim's main body.

They had just time to form, and to post the men around the strong cattle kraal, which they had occupied, when the stream of enemies came down upon them.

Upon the open plain, the Umiro had no chance in attacking so well defended a position, and the muskets, loaded with heavy mould shot, told with great effect upon the naked bodies of the assailants.

The Umiro were beaten back with some loss, and the slave-hunters held the position, although in a state of terror, as they felt that some terrible calamity must have befallen the party which had started to surprise the villages.

After dark, a Bari native cried out to the sentries to let him pass. This was a wounded man of their own people, the only survivor of all those who had left the main body on that morning.

The Bari described, that the Umiro, having gained information of the intended attack, had lain in ambush within high withered grass, in which they had awaited the arrival of their assailants.

The slave-hunters were advancing as usual, in single file, along the narrow track through the high grass, unsuspicious of an enemy, when the Umiro rushed from both sides of the ambuscade upon them.

Taken by surprise, a panic seized the slave-hunters, very few of whom had time to fire their muskets before they were speared by the pitiless Umiro, who wreaked wholesale vengeance by the massacre of 103 of Abou Saood's men and about 150 of their allies.

The main body under Lazim were completely cowed, as they feared an overwhelming attack that might exhaust their ammunition. The Umiro had now become possessed of 103 guns and several large cases of cartridges, in addition to those in the pouches of the soldiers.

Night favoured the retreat, and the remnant of the expedition under

Lazim returned by forced marches to Fatiko.

The defeat had spread consternation among the various stations, as it followed closely upon the destruction of a station belonging to Abou Saood in the Madi country.

This zareeba had been under the command of a vakeel named Jusef, who had exasperated the natives by continual acts of treachery and slave-hunting. They had accordingly combined to attack the station at night, and had set fire to the straw huts, by shooting red-hot arrows into the inflammable thatched roofs.

These calamities had happened since the arrival of Abou Saood in the Shooli country, and it was he who had given the order to attack the Umiro. His own people, being naturally superstitious, thought he had brought bad luck with him.

It appeared that when Abou Saood had first arrived at Fatiko from Gondokoro, the vakeels of his different stations were all prepared for the journey to deliver the ivory. They had given the cattle obtained in the first attack upon Umiro to the native carriers of Madi and Shooli, and the tusks had been arranged in about 2,000 loads for transport.

The sudden arrival of Abou Saood changed all their plans, as he immediately gave orders to return the ivory to the store huts; he did not intend to deliver it at Gondokoro that year. He also sent a letter to his Latooka station, nine days' march to the north-east, together with a party of eighty men, with instructions to his vakeel to deliver the ivory at the Bohr station below Gondokoro.

He thus hoped to defraud the government out of the two-fifths due to them by contract with Agad. At the same time, he had intended to remain concealed in the interior of the country until I should have returned to England; after which he had no doubt that affairs would continue in their original position.

It may be imagined that my sudden arrival at Fatiko had disconcerted all his plans.