Ismailia

We were at an additional disadvantage, as we were always exposed to attacks from fresh enemies; the route was occupied throughout, thus they were not cowed by the defeats of every ambuscade in the rear.

Considering the great numbers of spears that had flown like flashes of light through the line, it was astonishing that we had not had more numerous casualties. Several men had been struck on their knapsacks, which had served as shields.

We at length came to an exceedingly awkward place, that I felt sure would be well occupied. Upon our right lay a row of rocky hills, to which we were marching parallel. We had to descend through forest to low ground. To reach this it was necessary to pass between numerous blocks of granite that completely commanded the path. Each block was about twenty or twenty-five feet high, and several much exceeded this height. The base was the usual high grass and forest.

I ordered the men not to fire unless they should see the enemy, and to take a good aim.

Presently, as we descended through the pass, the attack commenced. Two spears struck Colonel Abd-el-Kader, one in the fore-arm; the second ripped his tough leather gaiter, and glanced off.

The sniders were ready, as the enemy were obliged to show their heads above the rocks, and one fellow, who was exactly above us, either lost his nerve, or received a bullet, which allowed his lance to come rattling down the rocks as a complete failure. I ordered the bugler to continue to sound "forward" (Illah Reh), as it was advisable to push through this awkward place as quickly as possible.

Directly that we were out of the pass, I tied up Abd-el-Kader's arm, and we continued the march until we halted at 2.5 P.M., in a piece of open cultivated ground, where I determined to bivouac for the night.

I had resolved always to finish the day's journey by one march, as it would afford time for erecting a protection of thorns and branches of trees to prevent a sudden night attack.

Fortunately the weather was fine. Abd-el-Kader was now faint and weak from loss of blood. I attended to his wound, which was an ugly gash, and gave him a good dose of brandy, and advised him to go to sleep.

Lieutenant Baker and the other officers assisted in erecting the defence of thorns. All the wet clothes were spread out to dry in the sun, and everything was got ready for the night. I did not care for myself, but I was sorry for the hardship that my wife must endure, without a bed or tent. My men cut two forked poles, upon which they lashed a horizontal bar, which supported a camp-sheet to protect her from rain or dew. A pile of long green grass was laid on the ground beneath, upon which was stretched a mackintosh camp-sheet, and a good thick blanket.

We had been most fortunate in having only a loss of one killed and two wounded since we left Masindi.

My men had fired away an enormous amount of ammunition during the march, as they appeared to become more and more nervous as they advanced. Every thick clump of reeds that rose a few feet higher than the surrounding grass was supposed to conceal an enemy, and it was immediately raked by a hot fire from the advance-guard.

On 16th June, the night having passed quietly, we started at 6.30 A.M., and marched silently.

There was a curious feeling upon first waking in the morning, when we rose and buckled on the ammunition-belts. Every one was aware that his nerves must be upon the stretch, and that his finger must be ready for the trigger, from the commencement till the end of the march, to act against unseen enemies.

Upon arrival at a stream in a muddy bottom, we were immediately attacked by a strong force in ambuscade. Some of the enemy exposed themselves boldly, and rushed upon the soldiers just in front of the rear-guard. Several were shot by the sniders, but one fellow, with unusual pluck, speared a soldier whose musket had missed fire, through the chest. This poor fellow, thus mortally wounded, grappled with his assailant, and tugging the spear from his own wound, he drove it through the native's heart.

The rear bugle sounded "halt," while the knapsack and cartouche-belt were detached from the gallant soldier, whose body was left by the side of his enemy.

We marched until 10.15 A.M., having fought nearly the whole way, and expended a frightful amount of ammunition. We had now arrived at our old halting-place, Chorobeze twenty-seven miles from Masindi.

My men had become so extravagant of their cartridges that I was forced to interfere. If this nervousness should continue, we should be soon left without ammunition, and every soul would be massacred.

I therefore mustered the troops, and examined all their pouches. Some of the advance-guard had fired away eighty rounds each, only during the morning's march!

Many had fired fifty rounds! The muskets had not used so many, owing to the greater difficulty of loading, but they also had been frightfully extravagant.

The men had come to the conclusion that the only plan of marching in safety through the high grass, which was full of unseen enemies, was to constitute themselves into a sort of infernal machine, that would be perpetually emitting fire and bullets on all sides.

This was all very well with an unlimited supply of ammunition, but we had no idea of what might still be in store for us. We were now slightly more than fifty miles from Foweera. Fortunately, in our journey from the river to Masindi, I had timed every march within five minutes, and I had all particulars in my note-book; therefore I could guess the position pretty closely during the morning's advance.

Having mustered all the men, I turned out all the ammunition from their pouches. The cartridges were counted.

I examined all the reserve ammunition.

The total, including that from the men's cartouche-boxes, was cartridges for snider rifles 4,540 and cartridges for muskets 4,330, making a total of 8,870 rounds.

I now addressed the men, and abused them most forcibly, calling them "old women," and several other uncomplimentary epithets for soldiers. I divided among them forty rounds each, and I swore solemnly by their prophet, "that I would not give them another cartridge from this spot (Chorobeze) until we should reach Major Abdullah's detachment at Fatiko."

I explained that if any man should fire away his ammunition, he should continue the march with an empty pouch—Wah Illahi! Illahi !

I gave the most positive command, that in future not a shot should be fired without orders, unless spears actually were thrown; on which occasions the troops would fire a few shots exactly into the spot from which the weapons had arrived; but on no account was a bullet to be fired at random.

I dismissed the men with this warning, and set them to work to construct a night defence as usual.

It was a most fortunate peculiarity of the Unyoros that they did not attack at night-time. This was a grievous fault upon their side. If they had surrounded us every night, they would have kept us awake, and not only would have tired the men out, but they would have caused a useless expenditure of ammunition.

On 17th of June, we started at 6.15 A.M., with the intention of reaching Koki. I recognized several villages, but we passed them without halting. We at length arrived at a fine, broad route, that was sufficiently wide for a dog-cart. This had evidently been recently prepared, and there could be no doubt that it was arranged as a snare that would lead us into some powerful ambuscade. At the same time, the compass showed that the broad path led in the right direction.

I halted the force, and went to the front to examine the road. There was no other path. It was therefore incumbent upon us to keep to the broad route, although we knew that it must lead us to a trap prepared for our destruction.

It was like walking upon ice that was known to be unsafe. We advanced.

For about half an hour we marched without opposition. This was a longer interval than usual to be free from an attack. At length we arrived where the broad road suddenly terminated. The advance-guard halted.

We searched for a path, and at length discovered the original narrow route a few paces to our left.

This had been purposely concealed by grass and boughs.

We had hardly entered this path when we were suddenly attacked. A horsekeeper was wounded by a spear, which passed through his leg, behind the knee, and cut the sinew, thus rendering him helpless. He was immediately placed upon a donkey. The unfortunate lad who led the horse a few paces before me now uttered a wild shriek, as a spear passed completely through his body. The poor boy crept to me on his hands and knees, and asked, "Shall I creep into the grass, Pacha?-where shall I go?" He had not another minute to live.

A spear struck another horsekeeper on the hip, and the soft iron point turned up against the bone in a curve like a fish-hook.

A sharp fire dispersed the enemy, who retired to a distance, yelling and blowing their whistles. The wounded horsekeeper could manage to walk forward.

There is a peculiar bird in the forests of Unyoro which utters a shrill cry, with these notes.

The natives imitate this cry with their whistles of antelope's horn. I had noticed that previous to an attack from an ambuscade, we had always heard the call of this bird.

My Baris declared that the bird warned us of the danger, and cried, "Co-co-me! Co-co-me!" which in their language means, "Look out! look out!"

My soldiers said that the birds exclaimed, "Shat-mo-koor! Shat-mo-koor!" which is the order, "Make ready;" They accordingly always brought their rifles on full cock when they heard the signal.

There was something puzzling this day respecting the distance. According to my calculation, we should leave reached Koki. Still we marched on through high forest and the interminable grass. My wife was dreadfully fatigued. The constant marching in wet boots, which became filled with sand when crossing the small streams and wading through muddy hollows, had made her terribly foot-sore. She walked on with pain and difficulty. I was sure that we had passed the village of Koki, which was surrounded by much open ground and cultivation; and I now felt certain that the broad road, which had been constructed to mislead us, had taken us by the rear of Koki, which we had thus over-shot.

We were marching forward in perfect silence, when I heard a bird cry

"Co-co-me! Co-co-me"!

That instant the spears came among us, and the rifles replied as quick as lightning!

The bugle of the advance-guard sounded "halt". I never liked to hear that order, as something must have gone wrong.

I immediately walked forward, and found that Lieutenant Mohammed Mustapha had been wounded. The spear had struck him just behind the shoulderjoint of the left arm, and had passed over the blade-bone and spine previous to making its exit by the right arm. This was a very nasty wound, and he was bleeding profusely. I made a couple of pads, and, placing one upon each hole, we bandaged him tightly.

I now went up to my poor old horse, "Zafteer". The unfortunate animal was carrying a heavy load, and a large hunting spear had struck him just behind the saddle. The weapon was so sharp and heavy, and had been thrown with such force, that it had penetrated a double blanket, and had not only passed clean through the horse's body, but had also cut through a blanket-fold upon the other side.

A large portion of the bowels protruded, and were hanging a foot below the horse's belly. The intestines were divided, thus death was certain.

As the old horse could still walk, and did not know its own danger, I ordered the advance. I intended to halt at the first convenient point.

In about a quarter of an hour we saw increased light in the distance, and we presently emerged upon a large open vale surrounded by forest. This cheerful space extended over about ten acres, in the centre of which was a well of good water, about fourteen feet deep, and so wide that a man could descend by steps hewn out of the gravel. This was a grand place for the halt.

My first duty was to remove the load, together with the saddle, from my good old horse. I returned the bowels, and having placed a strong pad over the wounds, I passed the roller round his body, and buckled it tight over the pads.

This operation was hardly completed, when a severe shivering fit seized the poor animal, and he fell to the ground to die.

With great sorrow I placed my pistol to the forehead of the faithful old Zafteer, and he died, having carried and laid down his load, together with his life, at the end of the day's march.

I was much distressed at this loss. It seemed that I was to lose all my best and most faithful followers—the good Monsoor, whom to this hour I regret as a brother; the ever-ready and true Howarti; Ferritch Baggara; the unfortunate Ramadan, besides others who were very valuable; and now my old horse was gone.

We slept that night by his body, and warmed ourselves by a fire that consumed his load—for there was no one to carry it. My despatch-box helped to cook our scanty dinner. We had marched sixteen miles.

My troops had behaved remarkably well. The scolding that I had given them had produced a good effect. Very little ammunition had been expended, and the firing had been exceedingly steady.

Although we had not been attacked at night, I never omitted the precaution of a defence of strong thorns and branches of trees.

Had this march through a frightful route of forest and high grass been made in the Bari tribe, we should not have had a night's rest.

We started at 6 A.M., with sunrise, on 18th June. The weather had been fine since the first day of soaking rain on the start from Masindi: we were thankful for this blessing, as there was no shelter for any one.

It would be fatiguing to narrate the incidents of the continual ambuscades. Every day we were attacked, and the enemy was repulsed many times. "Co-co-me! Co-co-me!" was now well understood by the troops; and although we had men wounded, the enemy invariably got the worst of the encounter. Up to the present we had been most fortunate in bringing on all our people, but I was anxious lest some should receive wounds that would actually incapacitate them from marching. Should a man be killed outright, how much soever he might be regretted, still there was an end of him; but there was no end to the difficulty of transporting wounded men in our helpless condition, without carriers.

We had rather hot work during this day's march, and four soldiers had been wounded by spears.

My wife was dreadfully tired, and sometimes the pace was too severe for her. At length she was so fatigued that she declared she must rest, if only for a few minutes. It was impossible to halt in the thick jungle and grass; therefore, as I had observed a large grove of plantains on the crest of the hill before us, I gave her my hand to assist in the ascent, and we shortly entered the dark forest of bananas, which was, as usual, clear and free from grass.

All the women were glad to rest, as the poor things were carrying heavy loads. We halted in the midst of the plantains, and every one sat down, except the numerous sentries whom I placed in concealment in various positions. I fully expected that natives might be following us, in the hopes of picking up the load of some wounded man that had been left behind.

Not a word was spoken, or even whispered.

My men were very bloodthirsty. They had been atrociously treated by the natives, and had suffered much. They longed to get their enemies fairly before them, and the "Forty Thieves" were now keenly looking out for the approach of the wily Unyoros.

We heard distant voices; they were coming nearer. A sharp clicking of locks might be heard, as the men got ready.

All Sadik was one of my best shots in "The Forty." I now saw him taking a steady aim. Saat Choush, who was the champion shot of "The Forty", had also raised his rifle, and almost immediately several shots were fired, and the troops rushed forward! Two natives had been knocked over, and some of the men returned, dragging in a body by the heels.

I now scoured the immediate neighbourhood, and discovered a quantity of dhurra that was just ripened. This was immediately gathered as a great prize.

During this interval, my men had been engaged in a most barbarous ceremony, that perfectly disgusted me.

These superstitious people had an idea, that every bullet they might fire would kill an Unyoro, if they could only devour a portion of their enemy's liver.

They had accordingly cut out the liver of the dead man, and having divided it among them, they positively HAD EATEN IT—raw! They had then cut the body into pieces with their sword-bayonets, and had disposed them upon the limbs of various bushes that overhung the path, as a warning to any Unyoros who should attempt to follow us.

I would not have believed that my "Forty Thieves", whom I had considered to be nearly civilized, could have committed such a barbarity. The truth was, that in the high grass they could not see the effect of their shots; therefore they imagined that the horrid rite of eating an enemy's liver would give a fatal direction to a random bullet.

We marched, and having had several encounters with the enemy in jungle, if possible worse than before, we halted at Kaseega.

One of my best men, Serroor, had a narrow escape; a lance went through his neck, almost grazing the jugular vein.

On 19th June, we marched at 6.5 A.M. This was one of the worst journeys, as the ravines were numerous, and the forest dark and tangled. It was difficult for our solitary horse (Jamoos) to carry his load, as it became continually hooked in the hanging loops of the wild vines. We were quickly attacked by various ambuscades, in one of which my wife suffered the loss of a great favourite. This was poor little Jarvah, who went by the name of the "fat boy." Two spears struck the unhappy lad at the same moment one of which pinned both his legs as though upon a spit; the other went through his body. This loss completely upset my wife, as the unfortunate Jarvah had upon several occasions endeavoured to protect her from danger. He was killed only a few paces behind her.

In one of the ambuscades, just as the enemy had been repulsed, Faddul, the strongest man in the "Forty Thieves", who was close to me, carrying his knapsack on his back, his rifle slung across his shoulders, and a box of 500 snider cartridges (64 lbs.) upon his head, walked up to me during the halt and reported himself as badly wounded.

A spear had struck him obliquely in the posterior, and had taken a direction towards the groin. The nian was literally bathed in blood, which ran from him in such a stream that a large pool was formed at his feet as he stood before me.

The instant that the box of snider ammunition was taken from his head, he fell apparently lifeless to the ground.

I thought that he had bled to death.

His rifle and knapsack were removed, and I examined his pulse and heart! I could not feel any movement. All I could do was to pour some brandy very slowly down his throat, and to leave him on the side of the path as another good man lost to the expedition.

We marched forward, and in about ten minutes we arrived at an open field of sweet potatoes. The change from dark jungle and dense grasses of giant height to the fresh and clear space cannot be understood, unless by those who experienced the difficulties of the march.

I halted the advance-guard in the centre of the open field, and waited for the rear to close up.

As it arrived, I saw a man staggering forward, supported by two soldiers. Upon nearer approach, I recognized my strong friend, Faddul, thus risen front the dead! The brandy had revived him sufficiently to show some signs of life, and the rear-guard had thus brought him along with them. We laid him down to rest beneath a tree that grew in the middle of the cultivation.

We were now in a sad difficulty. There were numerous roads, or rather very narrow paths, which converged from all quarters upon this potato ground. No one knew the direction. The Baris were completely at fault. The farther the people explored the immediate neighbourhood, the more helpless they became.

This was a serious matter. Up to the present time we had been most fortunate in keeping to the right path.

I now called my renowned pathfinder, Abdullah, of "The Forty".

Abdullah made a survey of the surrounding tracks, and then returned to me with the news that he had discovered the route. This he immediately pointed out.

A general exclamation of derision from the officers and many of the men was the only reward Abdullah received for his important discovery, as his path was in quite an opposite direction to the route they had anticipated.

The compass corroborated Abdullah's road, but before I adopted it, I asked him why he declared so positively that he knew the way? He replied, that when on the march from Foweera, he had observed a peculiarly-shaped tree, upon which was fastened a native cojoor, or spell. That tree was on rising ground above a ravine, and he could now show me both the ravine and the magic tree.

I accompanied him to the spot, and certainly the tree was there, with some pieces of ragged bark-cloth and some grass tied to the stem. I had often seen talismans that were fastened to the trees, and I suggested to Abdullah that there were many of them along the road. He was so confident in accepting every responsibility as guide, that I followed him without hesitation, and the march continued. The wounded Faddul was supported as before.

In a short time I myself recognized the path as being very near to Kisoona, which place we suddenly entered after a march of thirty-five minutes from the potato field. The advance-guard fired a volley at some natives, who rushed into the grass upon our unexpected arrival.

We were now in open ground, with good native huts for shelter, and a large extent of cultivation, where an unlimited supply of potatoes could be obtained.

As the rear-guard closed up, I mustered all officers and men. Having spoken a few words of encouragement, and complimented them upon their extreme steadiness since I had lectured them at Chorobeze, I congratulated them upon having advanced so far, under God's protection, through such numberless enemies, with comparatively so little loss. We were now only twenty-one miles from Foweera, and we knew the road. The news of our arrival would almost immediately reach Rionga, and I should fortify this spot and remain here for some days to allow my wounded to recover their strength. During this time all hands would be employed in preparing potatoes for store, by cutting them in slices and drying them in the sun.

I now ordered the band to strike up with the greatest vigour, to show the natives who might be within hearing, that we were in the best of spirits.

My officers and men were all delighted, and overwhelmed me with compliments. I only replied by begging them always to trust in God, and to do their duty.

I immediately started off a party to dig potatoes, while Lieutenant Baker and myself, with a number of men, slashed down with sabres the extensive grove of plantain trees, so as to have a perfectly clear space around the camp.

We made a strong defence at Kisoona, and the rest of several days was invigorating to the wounded men, and enabled my wife's feet to recover sufficiently to continue the march on the 23rd June.

I had arranged that the drums and bugles should sound the morning call at 5 A.M. daily, as though in a permanent camp. This was to assist me in a plan for avoiding ambuscades on the day of marching from Kisoona.

On the 22nd I gave orders that every man should be ready to march punctually at 5 A.M., the instant that the morning call should have sounded.

The natives, hearing the call to which they had been daily accustomed, would have no suspicion of our intended departure; therefore they would not have sufficient time to organize and man their ambuscades.

On the morning of the 23rd June we silently evacuated the camp in the semi-darkness, the instant that the drums and bugles had ceased, and thus obtained an excellent start that saved us much trouble. The attacks later in the day were feebler than usual, and after a march of fourteen miles we arrived at a well of water at 2.5 P.M., at which spot we halted for the night. During this march we had only one man wounded.