The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile
Sir Samuel White Baker

Part 7 out of 9

We were prisoners on the island of Patooan, as we could not procure
porters at any price to remove our effects. We had lost all our riding
oxen within a few days; they had succumbed to the flies, and the only
animal alive was already half dead; this was the little bull that had
always carried the boy Saat. It was the 8th April, and within a few days
the boats upon which we depended for our return to civilization would
assuredly quit Gondokoro. I offered the natives all the beads that I had
(about 50 lbs.) and the whole of my baggage, if they would carry us to
Shooa direct from this spot. We were in perfect despair, as we were both
completely worn out with fever and fatigue, and certain death seemed to
stare us in the face should we remain in this unhealthy spot; worse than
death was the idea of losing the boats and becoming prisoners for
another year in this dreadful land; which must inevitably happen should
we not hurry direct to Gondokoro without delay. The natives, with their
usual cunning, at length offered to convey us to Shooa, provided that I
paid them the beads in advance; the boats were prepared to ferry us
across the river, but I fortunately discovered through the woman
Bacheeta their treacherous intention of placing us on the uninhabited
wilderness on the north side, and leaving us to die of hunger. They had
conspired together to land us, but to immediately return with the boats
after having thus got rid of the incubus of their guests.

We were in a great dilemma--had we been in good health, I would have
forsaken everything but the guns and ammunition, and have marched direct
to Gondokoro on foot: but this was utterly impossible; neither my wife
nor I could walk a quarter of a mile without fainting--there was no
guide--and the country was now overgrown with impenetrable grass and
tangled vegetation eight feet high;--we were in the midst of the rainy
season--not a day passed without a few hours of deluge;--altogether
it was a most heartbreaking position. Added to the distress of mind at
being thus thwarted, there was also a great scarcity of provision. Many
of my men were weak, the whole party having suffered much from fever--
in fact, we were completely helpless.

Our guide Rabonga, who had accompanied us from M'rooli, had absconded,
and we were left to shift for ourselves. I was determined not to remain
on the island, as I suspected that the boats might be taken away, and
that we should be kept prisoners; I therefore ordered my men to take the
canoes, and to ferry us to the mainland, from whence we had come. The
headman, upon hearing this order, offered to carry us to a village, and
then to await orders from Kamrasi as to whether we were to be forwarded
to Shooa or not. The district in which the island of Patooan was
situated was called Shooa Moru, although having no connexion with the
Shooa in the Madi country to which we were bound.

We were ferried across to the main shore, and both in our respective
angareps were carried by the natives for about three miles: arriving at
a deserted village, half of which was in ashes, having been burnt and
plundered by the enemy, we were deposited on the ground in front of an
old hut in the pouring rain, and were informed that we should remain
there that night, but that on the following morning we should proceed to
our destination.

Not trusting the natives, I ordered my men to disarm them, and to retain
their spears and shields as security for their appearance on the
following day. This effected, we were carried into a filthy hut about
six inches deep in mud, as the roof was much out of repair, and the
heavy rain had flooded it daily for some weeks. I had a canal cut
through the muddy floor, and in misery and low spirits we took

On the following morning not a native was present! We had been entirely
deserted; although I held the spears and shields, every man had
absconded--there were neither inhabitants nor provisions--the whole
country was a wilderness of rank grass that hemmed us in on all sides;
not an animal, nor even a bird, was to be seen; it was a miserable,
damp, lifeless country. We were on elevated ground, and the valley of
the Somerset was about two miles to our north, the river roaring
sullenly in its obstructed passage, its course marked by the double belt
of huge dark trees that grew upon its banks.

My men were naturally outrageous, and they proposed that we should
return to Patooan, seize the canoes, and take provisions by force, as we
had been disgracefully deceived. The natives had merely deposited us
here to get us out of the way, and in this spot we might starve. Of
course I would not countenance the proposal of seizing provisions, but I
directed my men to search among the ruined villages for buried corn, in
company with the woman Bacheeta, who, being a native of this country,
would be up to the ways of the people, and might assist in the

After some hours passed in rambling over the black ashes of several
villages that had been burnt, they discovered a hollow place, by
sounding the earth with a stick, and, upon digging, they arrived at a
granary of the seed known as "tullaboon;" this was a great prize, as,
although mouldy and bitter, it would keep us from starving. The women of
the party were soon hard at work grinding, as many of the necessary
stones had been found among the ruins.

Fortunately there were three varieties of plants growing wild in great
profusion, that, when boiled, were a good substitute for spinach; thus
we were rich in vegetables, although without a morsel of fat or animal
food. Our dinner consisted daily of a mess of black porridge of bitter
mouldy flour, that no English pig would condescend to notice, and a
large dish of spinach. "Better a dinner of herbs where love is," &c.
often occurred to me; but I am not sure that I was quite of that opinion
after a fortnight's grazing upon spinach.

Tea and coffee were things of the past, the very idea of which made our
mouths water; but I found a species of wild thyme growing in the
jungles, and this, when boiled, formed a tolerable substitute for tea;
sometimes our men procured a little wild honey, which, added to the
thyme tea, we considered a great luxury.

This wretched fare, in our exhausted state from fever and general
effects of climate, so completely disabled us, that for nearly two
months my wife lay helpless on one angarep, and I upon the other;
neither of us could walk. The hut was like all in Kamrasi's country, a
perfect forest of thick poles to support the roof (I counted
thirty-two); thus, although it was tolerably large, there was but little
accommodation. These poles we now found very convenient, as we were so
weak, that we could not rise from bed without hauling by one of the

We were very nearly dead, and our amusement was a childish conversation
about the good things in England, and my idea of perfect happiness was
an English beefsteak and a bottle of pale ale; for such a luxury I would
most willingly have sold my birthright at that hungry moment. We were
perfect skeletons; and it was annoying to see how we suffered upon the
bad fare, while our men apparently throve. There were plenty of wild red
peppers, and the men seemed to enjoy a mixture of porridge and legumes a
la sauce piquante. They were astonished at my falling away on this food,
but they yielded to my argument when I suggested that a "lion would
starve where a donkey grew fat." I must confess that this state of
existence did not improve my temper, which, I fear, became nearly as
bitter as the porridge. My people had a windfall of luck, as Saat's ox,
that had lingered for a long time, lay down to die, and stretching
himself out, commenced kicking his last kick; the men immediately
assisted him by cutting his throat, and this supply of beef was a luxury
which, even in my hungry state, was not the English beefsteak for which
I sighed; and I declined the diseased bull.

The men made several long excursions through the country to endeavour to
purchase provisions, but in two months they procured only two kids; the
entire country was deserted, owing to the war between Kamrasi and
Fowooka. Every day the boy Saat and the woman Bacheeta sallied out and
conversed with the inhabitants of the different islands on the river;
sometimes, but very rarely, they returned with a fowl; such an event
caused great rejoicing.

We had now given up all hope of Gondokoro, and were perfectly resigned
to our fate; this, we felt sure, was to be buried in Chopi. I wrote
instructions in my journal, in case of death, and told my headman to be
sure to deliver my maps, observations, and papers to the English Consul
at Khartoum; this was my only care, as I feared that all my labour might
be lost should I die. I had no fear for my wife, as she was quite as bad
as I, and if one should die, the other would certainly follow; in fact,
this had been agreed upon, lest she should fall into the hands of
Kamrasi at my death. We had struggled to win, and I thanked God that we
had won; if death were to be the price, at all events we were at the
goal, and we both looked upon death rather as a pleasure, as affording
rest; there would be no more suffering; no fever; no long journey before
us, that in our weak state was an infliction; the only wish was to lay
down the burden.

Curious is the warfare between the animal instincts and the mind! Death
would have been a release that I would have courted, but I should have
liked that one "English beefsteak and pale ale" before I died! During
our misery of constant fever and starvation at Shooa Moru, insult had
been added to injury. There was no doubt that we had been thus deserted
by Kamrasi's orders, as every seven or eight days one of his chiefs
arrived, and told me that the king was with his army only four days'
march from me, and that he was preparing to attack Fowooka, but that he
wished me to join him, as with my fourteen guns we should win a great
victory. This treacherous conduct, after his promise to forward me
without delay to Shooa, enraged me exceedingly. We had lost the boats at
Gondokoro, and we were now nailed to the country for another year,
should we live, which was not likely; not only had the brutal king thus
deceived us, but he was deliberately starving us into conditions, his
aim being that my men should assist him against his enemy. At one time
the old enemy tempted me sorely to join Fowooka against Kamrasi; but,
discarding the idea, generated in a moment of passion, I determined to
resist his proposals to the last. It was perfectly true that the king
was within thirty miles of us, that he was aware of our misery; and he
made use of our extremity to force us to become his allies.

After more than two months passed in this distress it became evident
that something must be done; I sent my headman, or vakeel, and one man,
with a native as a guide (that Saat and Bacheeta had procured from an
island), with instructions to go direct to Kamrasi, to abuse him
thoroughly in my name for having thus treated us, and tell him that I
was much insulted at his treating with me through a third party in
proposing an alliance. My vakeel was to explain that I was a much more
powerful chief than Kamrasi, and that if he required my alliance, he
must treat with me in person, and immediately send fifty men to
transport my wife, myself, and effects to his camp, where we might, in a
personal interview, come to terms. I told my vakeel to return to me with
the fifty men, and to be sure to bring from Kamrasi some token by which
I should know that he had actually seen him. The vakeel and Yaseen

After some days, the absconded guide, Rabonga, appeared with a number of
men, but without either my vakeel or Yaseen. He carried with him a small
gourd bottle, carefully stopped; this he broke, and extracted from the
inside two pieces of printed paper, that Kamrasi had sent to me in

On examining the papers, I found them to be portions of the English
Church Service translated into (I think) the Kiswahili language, by Dr.
Krapf! There were many notes in pencil on the margin, written in
English, as translations of words in the text. It quickly occurred to me
that Speke must have given this book to Kamrasi on his arrival from
Zanzibar, and that he now extracted the leaves, and sent them to me as
the token I had demanded to show that my message had been delivered to
him. Rabonga made a lame excuse for his previous desertion; he delivered
a thin ox that Kamrasi had sent me, and he declared that his orders
were, that he should take my whole party immediately to Kamrasi, as he
was anxious that we should attack Fowooka without loss of time; we were
positively to start on the following morning! My bait had taken! and we
should escape from this frightful spot, Shooa Moru.

On the following morning we were carried in our litters by a number of
men. The ox had been killed, the whole party had revelled in good food,
and a supply sufficient for the journey was taken by my men.

Without inflicting the tedium of the journey upon the reader, it will be
sufficient to say that the country was the same as usual, being a vast
park overgrown with immense grass. Every day the porters bolted, and we
were left deserted at the charred ruins of various villages that had
been plundered by Fowooka's people. It poured with rain; there was no
cover, as all the huts had been burnt, and we were stricken with severe
fever daily. However, after five days of absurdly slow marching, the
roar of the rapids being distinctly audible at night, we arrived one
morning at a deserted camp of about 3,000 huts, which were just being
ignited by several natives. This had been Kamrasi's headquarters, which
he had quitted, and according to native custom it was to be destroyed by
fire. It was reported that the king had removed to another position
within an hour's march, and that he had constructed a new camp. Although
throughout the journey from Shooa Moru the country had been excessively
wild and uncultivated, this neighbourhood was a mass of extensive
plantain groves and burnt villages, but every plantain tree had been cut
through the middle and recklessly destroyed. This destruction had been
perpetrated by Fowooka's people, who had invaded the country, but had
retreated on the advance of Kamrasi's army.

After winding through dense jungles of bamboos and interminable groves
of destroyed plantains, we perceived the tops of a number of grass huts
appearing among the trees. My men now begged to be allowed to fire a
salute, as it was reported that the ten men of Ibrahim's party who had
been left as hostages were quartered at this village with Kamrasi.
Hardly had the firing commenced, when it was immediately replied to by
the Turks from their camp, who, upon our approach, came out to meet us
with great manifestations of delight and wonder at our having
accomplished our long and difficult voyage.

My vakeel and Yaseen were the first to meet us, with an apology that
severe fever had compelled them to remain in camp instead of returning
to Shooa Moru according to my orders, but they had delivered my message
to Kamrasi, who had, as I had supposed, sent two leaves out of a book
Speke had given him, as a reply. An immense amount of news had to be
exchanged between my men and those of Ibrahim; they had quite given us
up for lost, until they heard that we were at Shooa Moru. A report had
reached them that my wife was dead, and that I had died a few days
later. A great amount of kissing and embracing took place, Arab fashion,
between the two parties; and they all came to kiss my hand and that of
my wife, with the exclamation, that "By Allah, no woman in the world had
a heart so tough as to dare to face what she had gone through." "El hamd
el Illah! El hamd el Illah bel salaam!" ("Thank God--be grateful to
God"), was exclaimed on all sides by the swarthy throng of brigands who
pressed round us, really glad to welcome us back again; and I could not
help thinking of the difference in their manner now and fourteen months
ago, when they had attempted to drive us back from Gondokoro.

On entering the village I found a hut prepared for me by the orders of
my vakeel: it was very small, and I immediately ordered a fence and
courtyard to be constructed. There were great numbers of natives, and a
crowd of noisy fellows pressed around us that were only dispersed by a
liberal allowance of the stick, well laid on by the Turks, who were not
quite so mild in their ways as my people. A fat ox was immediately
slaughtered by the vakeel commanding the Turks' party, and a great feast
was soon in preparation, as our people were determined to fraternize.

Hardly were we seated in our hut, when my vakeel announced that Kamrasi
had arrived to pay me a visit. In a few minutes he was ushered into the
hut. Far from being abashed, he entered with a loud laugh totally
different to his former dignified manner." Well, here you are at last!"
he exclaimed. Apparently highly amused with our wretched appearance, he
continued, "So you have been to the M'wootan N'zige! well, you don't
look much the better for it; why, I should not have known you! ha, ha,
ha!" I was not in a humour to enjoy his attempts at facetiousness; I
therefore told him, that he had behaved disgracefully and meanly, and
that I should publish his character among the adjoining tribes as below
that of the most petty chief that I had ever seen. "Never mind," he
replied, "it's all over now; you really are thin, both of you;--it was
your own fault; why did you not agree to fight Fowooka? You should have
been supplied with fat cows and milk and butter, had you behaved well. I
will have my men ready to attack Fowooka tomorrow;--the Turks have ten
men; you have thirteen; thirteen and ten make twenty-three;--you shall
be carried if you can't walk, and we will give Fowooka no chance--he
must be killed--only kill him, and MY BROTHER will give you half of his
kingdom." He continued, "You shall have supplies tomorrow; I will go to
my brother, who is the great M'Kammaa Kamrasi, and he will send you all
you require. I am a little man, he is a big one; I have nothing; he has
everything, and he longs to see you; you must go to him directly, he
lives close by." I hardly knew whether he was drunk or sober--"my
brother the great M'Kamma Kamrasi!" I felt bewildered with astonishment:
then, "If you are not Kamrasi, pray who are you ?" I asked. "Who am I?"
he replied, "ha, ha, ha! that's very good; who am I?--why I am
M'Gambi, the brother of Kamrasi,--I am the younger brother, but he is
the King."

The deceit of this country was incredible--I had positively never seen
the real Kamrasi up to this moment, and this man M'Gambi now confessed
to having impersonated the king his brother, as Kamrasi was afraid that
I might be in league with Debono's people to murder him, and therefore
he had ordered his brother M'Gambi to act the king.

I now remembered, that the woman Bacheeta had on several occasions
during the journey told us that the Kamrasi we had seen was not the true
M'Kamma Kamrasi; but at the time I had paid little attention to her, as
she was constantly grumbling, and I imagined that this was merely said
in ill temper, referring to her murdered master Sali as the rightful

I called the vakeel of the Turks, Eddrees: he said, that he also had
heard long since that M'Gambi was not Kamrasi as we had all supposed,
but that he had never seen the great king, as M'Gambi had always acted
as viceroy; he confirmed the accounts I had just received, that the real
Kamrasi was not far from this village, the name of which was "Kisoona."
I told M'Gambi that I did not wish to see his brother the king, as I
should perhaps be again deceived and be introduced to some impostor like
himself; and that as I did not choose to be made a fool of, I should
decline the introduction. This distressed him exceedingly; he said, that
the "king was really so great a man that he, his own brother, dared not
sit on a stool in his presence, and that he had only kept in retirement
as a matter of precaution, as Debono's people had allied themselves with
his enemy Rionga in the preceding year, and he dreaded treachery." I
laughed contemptuously at M'Gambi, telling him that if a woman like my
wife dared to trust herself far from her own country among such savages
as Kamrasi's people, their king must be weaker than a woman if he dare
not show himself in his own territory. I concluded by saying, that I
should not go to see Kamrasi, but that he should come to visit me.
M'Gambi promised to send a good cow on the following morning, as we had
not tasted milk for some months, and we were in great want of
strengthening food. He took his leave, having received a small present
of minute beads of various colours.

I could not help wondering at the curious combination of pride and
abject cowardice that had been displayed by the redoubted Kamrasi ever
since our first entrance to his territory. Speke when at Gondokoro had
told me how he had been kept waiting for fifteen days before the king
had condescended to see him. I now understood that this delay had been
occasioned more by fear than pride, and that, in his cowardice, the king
fell back upon his dignity as an excuse for absenting himself.

With the addition of the Turks' party we were now twenty-four armed men.
Although they had not seen the real king Kamrasi, they had been well
treated since Ibrahim's departure, having received each a present of a
young slave girl as a wife, while, as a distinguishing mark of royal
favour, the vakeel Eddrees had received two wives instead of one; they
had also received regular supplies of flour and beef--the latter in
the shape of a fat ox presented every seventh day, together with a
liberal supply of plantain cider.

On the following morning after my arrival at Kisoona, M'Gambi appeared,
beseeching me to go and visit the king. I replied that "I was hungry and
weak from want of food, and that I wanted to see meat, and not the man
who had starved me." In the afternoon a beautiful cow appeared with her
young calf, also a fat sheep, and two pots of plantain cider, as a
present from Kamrasi. That evening we revelled in milk, a luxury that we
had not tasted for some months. The cow gave such a quantity that we
looked forward to the establishment of a dairy and already contemplated
cheese-making. I sent the king a present of a pound of powder in
canister, a box of caps and a variety of trifles, explaining that I was
quite out of stores and presents, as I had been kept so long in his
country that I was reduced to beggary, as I had expected to have
returned to my own country long before this.

In the evening, M'Gambi appeared with a message from the king, saying
that I was his greatest friend, and that he would not think of taking
anything from me, as he was sure that I must be hard up; that he desired
nothing, but would be much obliged if I would give him the "little
double rifle that I always carried, and my watch and compass!" He wanted
"nothing," only my Fletcher rifle, that I would as soon have parted with
as the bone of my arm: and these three articles were the same for which
I had been so pertinaciously bored before my departure from M'rooli. It
was of no use to be wroth; I therefore quietly replied that "I should
not give them, as Kamrasi had failed in his promise to forward me to
Shooa; but that I required no presents from him, as he always expected a
thousandfold in return." M'Gambi said that all would be right if I would
only agree to pay the king a visit. I objected to this, as I told him
the king, his brother, did not want to see me, but only to observe what
I had, in order to beg for all that he saw. He appeared much hurt, and
assured me that he would be himself responsible that nothing of the kind
should happen, and that he merely begged as a favour that I would visit
the king on the following morning, and that people should be ready to
carry me if I were unable to walk. Accordingly I arranged to be carried
to Kamrasi's camp at about 8 A.M.

At the hour appointed M'Gambi appeared, with a great crowd of natives.
My clothes were in rags,--and as personal appearance has a certain
effect, even in Central Africa, I determined to present myself to the
king in as favourable a light as possible. I happened to possess a
full-dress Highland suit that I had worn when I lived in Perthshire many
years ago; this I had treasured as serviceable upon an occasion like the
present; accordingly I was quickly attired in kilt, sporran, and
Glengarry bonnet, and to the utter amazement of the crowd, the
ragged-looking object that had arrived in Kisoona now issued from the
obscure hut, with plaid and kilt of Athole tartan. A general shout of
exclamation arose from the assembled crowd; and taking my seat upon an
angarep, I was immediately shouldered by a number of men, and attended
by ten of my people as escort, I was carried towards the camp of the
great Kamrasi.

In about half an hour we arrived. The camp, composed of grass huts,
extended over a large extent of ground, and the approach was perfectly
black with the throng that crowded to meet me. Women, children, dogs,
and men all thronged at the entrance of the street that led to Kamrasi's
residence. Pushing our way through this inquisitive multitude, we
continued through the camp until at length we reached the dwelling of
the king. Halting for the moment, a message was immediately received
that we should proceed; we accordingly entered through a narrow passage
between high reed fences, and I found myself in the presence of the
actual king of Unyoro, Kamrasi. He was sitting in a kind of porch in
front of a hut, and upon seeing me he hardly condescended to look at me
for more than a moment; he then turned to his attendants and made some
remark that appeared to amuse them, as they all grinned as little men
are wont to do when a great man makes a bad joke.

I had ordered one of my men to carry my stool; I was determined not to
sit upon the earth, as the king would glory in my humiliation. M'Gambi,
his brother, who had formerly played the part of king, now sat upon the
ground a few feet from Kamrasi, who was seated upon the same stool of
copper that M'Gambi had used when I first saw him at M'rooli. Several of
his chiefs also sat upon the straw with which the porch was littered. I
made a "salaam," and took my seat upon my stool. Not a word passed
between us for about five minutes, during which time the king eyed me
most attentively, and made various remarks to the chiefs who were
present; at length he asked me why I had not been to see him before? I
replied, "Because I had been starved in his country, and I was too weak
to walk." He said--I should soon be strong, as he would now give me a
good supply of food, but that he could not send provisions to Shooa
Moru, as Fowooka held that country. Without replying to this wretched
excuse for his neglect, I merely told him that I was happy to have seen
him before my departure, as I was not aware until recently that I had
been duped by M'Gambi. He answered me very coolly, saying that although
I had not seen him he had nevertheless seen me, as he was among the
crowd of native escort on the day that we left M'rooli. Thus he had
watched our start at the very place where his brother M'Gambi had
impersonated the king.

Kamrasi was a remarkably fine man, tall and well proportioned, with a
handsome face of a dark brown colour, but a peculiarly sinister
expression; he was beautifully clean, and instead of wearing the bark
cloth common among the people, he was dressed in a fine mantle of black
and white goatskins, as soft as chamois leather. His people sat on the
ground at some distance from his throne; when they approached to address
him on any subject they crawled upon their hands and knees to his feet,
and touched the ground with their foreheads.

True to his natural instincts, the king commenced begging, and being
much struck with the Highland costume, he demanded it as a proof of
friendship, saying, that if I refused I could not be his friend. The
watch, compass, and double Fletcher rifle were asked for in their turn,
all of which I refused to give him. He appeared much annoyed, therefore
I presented him with a pound canister of powder, a box of caps, and a
few bullets. He replied, "What's the use of the ammunition if you won't
give me your rifle?" I explained that I had already given him a gun, and
that he had a rifle of Speke's. Disgusted with his importunity I rose to
depart, telling him that "I should not return to visit him, as I did not
believe he was the real Kamrasi. I had heard that Kamrasi was a great
king, but that he was a mere beggar, and was doubtless an impostor, like
M'Gambi." At this he seemed highly amused, and begged me not to leave so
suddenly, as he could not permit me to depart empty handed. He then gave
certain orders to his people, and after a little delay, two loads of
flour arrived, together with a goat and two jars of sour plantain cider.
These presents he ordered to be forwarded to Kisoona. I rose to take
leave, but the crowd, eager to see what was going forward, pressed
closely upon the entrance of the approach; seeing which, the king gave
certain orders, and immediately four or five men with long heavy
bludgeons rushed at the mob and belaboured them right and left, putting
the mass to flight pell-mell through the narrow lanes of the camp.

I was then carried back to my camp at Kisoona, where I was received by a
great crowd of people.



IT appeared that Kisoona was to be headquarters until I should have an
opportunity of quitting the country for Shooa. Therefore I constructed a
comfortable little hut surrounded by a courtyard strongly fenced, in
which I arranged a Rakooba, or open shed, in which to sit during the
hottest hours of the day.

My cow that I had received from Kamrasi gave plenty of milk, and every
second day we were enabled to make a small cheese about the size of a
six-pound cannon-shot. The abundance of milk made a rapid change in our
appearance; and Kisoona, although a place of complete "ennui," was a
delightful change after the privations of the last four months. Every
week the king sent me an ox and a quantity of flour for myself and
people, and the whole party grew fat. We used the milk native fashion,
never drinking it until curdled;--taken in this form it will agree with
the most delicate stomach, but if used fresh in large quantities it
induces biliousness. The young girls of thirteen and fourteen that are
the wives of the king are not appreciated unless extremely fat--they are
subjected to a regular system of fattening in order to increase their
charms; thus at an early age they are compelled to drink daily about a
gallon of curded milk, the swallowing of which is frequently enforced by
the whip; the result is extreme obesity. In hot climates milk will
curdle in two or three hours if placed in a vessel that has previously
contained sour milk. When curdled it should be well beaten together
until it assumes the appearance of cream; in this state, if seasoned
with a little salt, it is most nourishing and easy of digestion. The
Arabs invariably use it in this manner, and improve it by the addition
of red pepper. The natives of Unyoro will not eat red pepper, as they
believe that men and women become barren by its use.

Although the fever had so completely taken possession of me that I was
subject to an attack almost daily, the milk fattened me extremely, and
kept up my strength, which otherwise must have failed. The change from
starvation to good food produced a marvellous effect. Curious as it may
appear, although we were in a land of plantains, the ripe fruit was in
the greatest scarcity. The natives invariably eat them unripe, the green
fruit when boiled being a fair substitute for potatoes--the ripe
plantains were used for brewing plantain cider, but they were never
eaten. The method of cider-making was simple. The fruit was buried in a
deep hole and covered with straw and earth;--at the expiration of about
eight days the green plantains thus interred had become ripe;--they were
then peeled and pulped within a large wooden trough resembling a canoe;
this was filled with water, and the pulp being well mashed and stirred,
it was left to ferment for two days, after which time it was fit to

Throughout the country of Unyoro, plantains in various forms were the
staple article of food, upon which the inhabitants placed more
dependence than upon all other crops. The green plantains were not only
used as potatoes, but when peeled they were cut in thin slices and dried
in the sun until crisp; in this state they were stored in the granaries,
and when required for use they were boiled into a pulp and made into a
most palatable soup or stew. Flour of plantains was remarkably good;
this was made by grinding the fruit when dried as described; it was
then, as usual with all other articles in that country, most beautifully
packed in long narrow parcels, either formed of plantain bark or of the
white interior of rushes worked into mats. This bark served as brown
paper, but had the advantage of being waterproof. The fibre of the
plantain formed both thread and cord, thus the principal requirements of
the natives were supplied by this most useful tree. The natives were
exceedingly clever in working braid from the plantain fibre, which was
of so fine a texture that it had the appearance of a hair chain; nor
could the difference be detected without a close examination. Small bags
netted with the same twine were most delicate, and in all that was
produced in Unyoro there was a remarkably good taste displayed in the

The beads most valued were the white opal, the red porcelain, and the
minute varieties generally used for working on screens in England; these
small beads [These were given to me by Speke at Gondokoro] of various
colours were much esteemed, and were worked into pretty ornaments, about
the shape of a walnut, to be worn suspended from the neck. I had a small
quantity of the latter variety that I presented to Kamrasi, who prized
them as we should value precious stones.

Not only were the natives clever generally in their ideas, but they were
exceedingly cunning in their bargains. Every morning, shortly after
sunrise, men might be heard crying their wares throughout the camp--
such as, "Tobacco, tobacco; two packets going for either beads or
simbis!" (cowrie-shells). "Milk to sell for beads or salt!" "Salt to
exchange for lance-heads!" "Coffee, coffee, going cheap for red beads!"
"Butter for five jenettos (red beads) [These were given to me by Speke
at Gondokoro] a lump!"

The butter was invariably packed in a plantain leaf, but frequently the
package was plastered with cow dung and clay, which, when dry, formed a
hard coating, and protected it from the air; this gave it a bad flavour,
and we returned it to the dealer as useless. A short time after, he
returned with fresh butter in a perfectly new green leaf, and we were
requested to taste it. Being about the size and shape of a cocoa-nut,
and wrapped carefully in a leaf with only the point exposed, I of course
tasted from that portion, and approving the flavour, the purchase was
completed. We were fairly cheated, as the butter dealer had packed the
old rejected butter in a fresh leaf, and had placed a small piece of
sweet butter on the top as a tasting point. They constantly attempted
this trick.

As retailers they took extraordinary pains to divide everything into
minimum packets, which they sold for a few beads, always declaring that
they had only one packet to dispose of, but immediately producing
another when that was sold. This method of dealing was exceedingly
troublesome, as it was difficult to obtain supplies in any quantity. My
only resource was to send Saat to market daily to purchase all he could
find, and he usually returned after some hours' absence with a basket
containing coffee, tobacco, and butter.

We were comfortably settled at Kisoona, and the luxury of coffee after
so long an abstinence was a perfect blessing. Nevertheless, in spite of
good food, I was a martyr to fever, which attacked me daily at about 2
P.M. and continued until sunset. Being without quinine I tried vapour
baths, and by the recommendation of one of the Turks I pounded and
boiled a quantity of the leaves of the castor-oil plant in a large pot
containing about four gallons: this plant was in great abundance. Every
morning I arranged a bath by sitting in a blanket, thus forming a kind
of tent, with the pot of boiling water beneath my stool. Half an hour
passed in this intense heat produced a most profuse perspiration, and
from the commencement of the vapour system the attacks of fever
moderated both in violence and frequency. In about a fortnight, the
complaint had so much abated that my spirits rose in equal proportion,
and, although weak, I had no mortal fear of my old enemy.

The king, Kamrasi, had supplied me with provisions, but I was troubled
daily by messengers who requested me to appear before him to make
arrangements for the proposed attack upon Rionga and Fowooka. My excuse
for non-attendance was my weak state; but Kamrasi determined not to be
evaded, and one day his headman Quonga announced that the king would pay
me a visit on the following morning. Although I had but little remaining
from my stock of baggage except the guns, ammunition, and astronomical
instruments, I was obliged to hide everything underneath the beds, lest
the avaricious eyes of Kamrasi should detect a "want." True to his
appointment, he appeared with numerous attendants, and was ushered into
my little hut. I had a very rude but serviceable armchair that one of my
men had constructed; in this the king was invited to sit. Hardly was he
seated, when he leant back, stretched out his legs, and making some
remark to his attendants concerning his personal comfort, he asked for
the chair as a present. I promised to have one made for him immediately.
This being arranged, he surveyed the barren little hut, vainly
endeavouring to fix his eyes upon something that he could demand; but so
fruitless was his search, that he laughingly turned to his people and
said, "How was it that they wanted so many porters, if they had nothing
to carry?" My interpreter explained, that many things had been spoiled
during the storms on the lake, and had been left behind; that our
provisions had long since been consumed, and that our clothes were worn
out--thus we had nothing left but a few beads. "New varieties, no
doubt," he replied; "give me all that you have of the small blue and the
large red!" We had carefully hidden the main stock, and a few had been
arranged in bags to be produced as the occasion might require; these
were now unpacked by the boy Saat and laid before the king. I told him
to make his choice, which he did precisely as I had anticipated, by
making presents to his surrounding friends out of my stock, and
monopolizing the remainder for his share: the division of the portions
among his people was a modest way of taking the whole, as he would
immediately demand their return upon quitting my hut. No sooner were the
beads secured than he repeated the original demand for my watch and the
No. 24 double rifle; these I resolutely refused. He then requested
permission to see the contents of a few of the baskets and bags that
formed our worn-out luggage. There was nothing that took his fancy
except needles, thread, lancets, medicines, and a small tooth-comb; the
latter interested him exceedingly, as I explained that the object of the
Turks in collecting ivory was to sell it to Europeans who manufactured
it into many articles, among which were small tooth-combs such as he
then examined. He could not understand how the teeth could be so finely
cut. Upon the use of the comb being explained, he immediately attempted
to practise upon his woolly head; failing in the operation, he adapted
the instrument to a different purpose, and commenced scratching beneath
the wool most vigorously: the effect being satisfactory, he at once
demanded the comb, which was handed to each of the surrounding chiefs,
all of whom had a trial of its properties, and, every head having been
scratched, it was returned to the king, who handed it to Quonga, the
headman that received his presents. So complete was the success of the
comb that he proposed to send me one of the largest elephant's tusks,
which I was to take to England and cut into as many small tooth-combs as
it would produce for himself and his chiefs.

The lancets were next admired, and were declared to be admirably adapted
for paring his nails--they were therefore presented to him. Then came
the investigation of the medicine chest, and every bottle was applied to
his nose, and a small quantity of the contents was requested. On the
properties of tartar-emetic being explained, he proposed to swallow a
dose immediately, as he had been suffering from headache, but as he was
some distance from home I advised him to postpone the dose until his
return; I accordingly made up about a dozen powders, one of which (three
grains) he was to take that evening.

The concave mirror, our last looking-glass, was then discovered; the
distortion of face it produced was a great amusement, and after it had
been repeatedly handed round, it was added to his presents. More
gunpowder was demanded, and a pound canister and a box of caps were
presented to him, but I positively refused the desired bullets.

To change the conversation, I inquired whether he or any of his people
knew from whence their race originated, as their language and appearance
were totally different to the tribes that I had visited front the north.
He told me that he knew his grandfather, whose name was Cherrybambi, but
that he knew nothing of the history of the country, except that it had
formerly been a very extensive kingdom, and that Uganda and Utumbi had
been comprised in the country of Kitwara with Unyoro and Chopi.

The kingdom of Kitwara extended from the frontier of Karagwe to the
Victoria Nile at Magungo, and Karuma, bounded on all sides but the south
by that river and the Victoria and the Albert lakes; the latter lake
forming the western frontier. During the reign of Cherrybambi, the
province of Utumbi revolted, and not only became independent, but drove
Cherrybambi from Uganda across the Kafoor river to Unyoro. This revolt
continued until Cherrybambi's death, when the father of M'tese (the
present king of Uganda), who was a native of Utumbi, attacked and
conquered Uganda and became king. From that time there has been
continual war between Uganda and Unyoro; or, as Kamrasi calls his
kingdom, Kitwara, that being the ancient name: to the present day,
M'tese, the king of Uganda, is one of his greatest enemies. It was in
vain that I attempted to trace his descent from the Gallas; both upon
this and other occasions he and his people denied all knowledge of their
ancient history.

He informed me that Chopi had also revolted after the death of
Cherrybambi, and that he had reconquered it only ten or twelve years
ago, but that even now the natives were not to be trusted, as many had
leagued with Fowooka and Rionga, whose desire was to annex Chopi and to
form a separate kingdom: these chiefs had possession of the river
islands, which strongholds it was impossible to attack without guns, as
the rapids were so dangerous that canoes could only approach by a
certain passage.

Kamrasi expressed his determination to kill both of the refractory
chiefs, as he would have no rest during their lives; he disclaimed all
relationship with Rionga, who had been represented to Speke as his
brother, and he concluded by requesting me to assist him in an attack
upon the river islands, promising that if I should kill Fowooka and
Rionga he would give me a large portion of his territory.

He suggested that I should stand upon a high cliff that commanded
Fowooka's island; from that point I could pick off not only the chief,
but all his people, by firing steadily with the little double 24 rifle;
he continued even farther, that if I were too ill to go myself, I should
LEND him my little Fletcher 24 rifle, give him my men to assist his
army, and he would pick off Rionga himself from the cliff above the
river: this was his mild way of securing the rifle which he had coveted
ever since my arrival in his country. I told him plainly that I could
not mix myself up with his quarrels; that I travelled with only one
object, of doing good, and that I would harm no one unless in
self-defence, therefore I could not be the aggressor; but that should
Fowooka and Rionga attack his position I should be most happy to lend
him my aid to repel them. Far from appreciating my ideas of fair play,
he immediately rose from his chair, and without taking leave he walked
out of the hut, attended by his people.

The next morning I heard that he had considered himself poisoned by the
tarter-emetic but that he was now well.

From that day I received no supplies for myself or my people, as the
king was affronted. A week passed away, and I was obliged to purchase
meat and flour from Eddrees, the lieutenant who commanded the Turks'
party of nine men. I gave this man a double-barrelled gun, and he
behaved well.

One day I was lying upon my bed with a fit of ague, when it was reported
that four men had arrived from M'tese, the king of Uganda, who wished to
see me. Unfortunately my vakeel delayed the men for so long that they
departed, promising to return again, having obtained from my people all
information concerning me: these were spies from the king of Uganda,
whose object at that time was unknown to us.

The weeks passed slowly at Kisoona, as there was a tedious monotony in
the lack of incident;--every day was a repetition of the preceding. My
time was passed in keeping a regular journal; mapping; and in writing
letters to friends in England, although there was no communication. This
task afforded the greatest pleasure, as I could thus converse in
imagination with those far away. The thought frequently occurred to me
that they might no longer exist, and that the separation of years might
be the parting forever; nevertheless there was a melancholy satisfaction
at thus blankly corresponding with those whom I had loved in former
years. Thus the time slowly ebbed away; the maps were perfected;
information that I had received was confirmed by the repeated
examination of natives; and a few little black children who were allowed
to run about our courtyard like so many puppies afforded a study of the
African savage in embryo. This monotony was shortly disturbed.

At about 9 P.M. one night we were suddenly disturbed by a tremendous din
--hundreds of nogaras were beating, horns blowing, and natives
screaming in all directions. I immediately jumped out of bed, and
buckling on my belt I took my rifle and left the hut. The village was
alive with people all dressed for war, and bearded with cows' tails,
dancing and rushing about with shields and spears, attacking imaginary
enemies. Bacheeta informed me that Fowooka's people had crossed the Nile
and were within three hours' march of Kisoona, accompanied by A HUNDRED
AND FIFTY of Debono's trading party, the same that had formerly attacked
Kamrasi in the preceding year in company with Rionga's people. It was
reported, that having crossed the Nile they were marching direct on
Kisoona, with the intention of attacking the country and of killing
Kamrasi. M'Gambi, the brother of Kamrasi, whose hut was only twenty
yards distant, immediately came to me with the news: he was in a state
of great alarm, and was determined to run off to the king immediately to
recommend his flight. After some time I succeeded in convincing him that
this was unnecessary, and that I might be of great service in this
dilemma if Kamrasi would come personally to me early on the following

The sun had just risen, when the king unceremoniously marched into my
hut;--he was no longer the dignified monarch of Kitwara clothed in a
beautiful mantle of fine skins, but he wore nothing but a short kilt of
blue baize that Speke had given him, and a scarf thrown across his
shoulders. He was dreadfully alarmed, and could hardly be persuaded to
leave his weapons outside the door, according to the custom of the
country--these were three lances and a double-barrelled rifle that had
been given him by Speke. I was much amused at his trepidation, and
observing the curious change in his costume, I complimented him upon the
practical cut of his dress, that was better adapted for fighting than
the long and cumbrous mantle. "FIGHTING!" he exclaimed, with the horror
of "Bob Acres," "I am not going to fight! I have dressed lightly to be
able to run quickly. I mean to run away! Who can fight against guns?
Those people have one hundred and fifty guns; you must run with me; we
can do nothing against them; you have only thirteen men; Eddrees has
only ten; what can twenty-three do against A HUNDRED AND FIFTY? Pack up
your things and run; we must be off into the high grass and hide at
once; the enemy is expected every moment!"

I never saw a man in such a deplorable state of abject fright, and I
could not help laughing aloud at the miserable coward who represented a
kingdom. Calling my headman, I ordered him to hoist the English ensign
on my tall flagstaff in the courtyard. In a few moments the old flag was
waving in a brisk breeze and floating over my little hut. There is
something that warms the heart in the sight of the Union Jack when
thousands of miles away from the old country. I now explained to Kamrasi
that both he and his country were under the protection of that flag,
which was the emblem of England; and that so long as he trusted to me,
although I had refused to join him in attacking Fowooka, he should see
that I was his true ally, as I would defend him against all attacks. I
told him to send a large quantity of supplies into my camp, and to
procure guides immediately, as I should send some of my men without
delay to the enemy's camp with a message to the vakeel of Debono's
party. Slightly reassured by this arrangement, he called Quonga, and
ordered him to procure two of his chiefs to accompany my men. The best
of his men, Cassave, appeared immediately;--this was a famous fellow,
who had always been civil and anxious to do his duty both to his master
and to me. I summoned Eddrees, and ordered him to send four of his men
with an equal number of mine to the camp of Fowooka to make a report of
the invading force, and to see whether it was true that Debono's people
were arrived as invaders. In half an hour from the receipt of my order,
the party started;--eight well-armed men accompanied by about twenty
natives of Kamrasi's with two days' provisions. Kisoona was about ten
miles from the Victoria Nile.

At about 5 P.M. on the following day my men returned, accompanied by ten
men and a choush, or sergeant, of Debono's party;--they had determined
to prove whether I was actually in the country, as they had received a
report some months ago that both my wife and I were dead; they imagined
that the men that I had sent to their camp were those of the rival party
belonging to Ibrahim, who had wished to drive them out of Kamrasi's
country by using my name. However, they were now undeceived, as the
first object that met their view was the English flag on the high
flagstaff, and they were shortly led into my courtyard, where they were
introduced to me in person. They sat in a half-circle around me.

Assuming great authority, I asked them how they could presume to attack
a country under the protection of the British flag? I informed them that
Unyoro belonged to me by right of discovery, and that I had given
Ibrahim the exclusive right to the produce of that country, on the
condition that he should do nothing contrary to the will of the reigning
king, Kamrasi; that Ibrahim had behaved well; that I had been guided to
the lake and had returned, and that we were now actually fed by the
king; and we were suddenly invaded by Turkish subjects in connexion with
a hostile tribe, who thus insulted the English flag. I explained to them
that I should not only resist any attack that might be made upon
Kamrasi, but that I should report the whole affair to the Turkish
authorities upon my return to Khartoum; and that, should a shot be fired
or a slave be stolen in Kamrasi's country, the leader of their party,
Mahommed Wat-el-Mek, would be hanged.

They replied that they were not aware that I was in the country; that
they were allies of Fowooka, Rionga, and Owine, the three hostile
chiefs; that they had received both ivory and slaves from them on
condition that they should kill Kamrasi; and that, according to the
custom of the White Nile trade, they had agreed to these conditions.
They complained that it was very hard upon them to march six days
through an uninhabited wilderness between their station at Faloro and
Fowooka's islands and to return empty handed. In reply I told them, that
they should carry a letter from me to their vakeel Mahommed, in which I
should give him twelve hours from the receipt of my order to recross the
river with his entire party and their allies and quit Kamrasi's country.

They demurred to this alternative: but I shortly settled their
objections, by ordering my vakeel to write the necessary letter, and
desiring them to start before sunrise on the following morning. Kamrasi
had been suspicious that I had sent for Mahommed's party to invade him
because he had kept me starving at Shooa Moru instead of forwarding me
to Shooa as he had promised. This suspicion placed me in an awkward
position; I therefore called M'Gambi (his brother) in presence of the
Turks, and explained the whole affair face to face, desiring Mahommed's
people themselves to explain to him that they would retire from the
country simply because I commanded them to do so, but that, had I not
been there, they would have attacked him. This they repeated with a very
bad grace, boasting, at the completion, that, were it not for me, they
would shoot M'Gambi where he stood at that moment. The latter, fully
aware of their good intentions, suddenly disappeared. . . . My letter to
Mahommed was delivered to Suleiman Choush, the leader of his party, and
I ordered a sheep to be killed for their supper. . . . At sunrise on the
following morning they all departed, accompanied by six of my men, who
were to bring a reply to my letter. These people had two donkeys, and
just as they were starting, a crowd of natives made a rush to gather a
heap of dung that lay beneath the animals; a great fight and tussle took
place for the possession of this valuable medicine, in the midst of
which the donkey lifted up his voice and brayed so lustily that the
crowd rushed away with more eagerness than they had exhibited on
arriving, alarmed at the savage voice of the unknown animal. It appeared
that the dung of the donkey rubbed upon the skin was supposed to be a
cure for rheumatism, and that this rare specific was brought from a
distant country in the East where such animals existed.



Kamrasi, thus freed from his invaders, was almost stupefied with
astonishment. He immediately paid me a visit, and as he entered the
courtyard he stopped to look at the flag that was gaily fluttering above
him, as though it were a talisman. He inquired "why the Turks were awed
by an apparent trifle." I explained that the flag was well known, and
might be seen in every part of the world; wherever it was hoisted it was
respected, as he had just witnessed, even at so great a distance from
home and unsupported, as in Unyoro.

Seizing the opportunity, he demanded it, saying, "What shall I do when
you leave my country and take that with you? These Turks will surely
return. Give me the flag, and they will be afraid to attack me!" I was
obliged to explain to him that "the respect for the British ensign had
not been gained by running away on the approach of danger, as he had
proposed on the arrival of the enemy, and that its honour could not be
confided to any stranger." True to his uncontrollable instinct of
begging, he replied, "If you cannot give me the flag, give me at least
that little double-barrelled rifle that you do not require, as you are
going home; then I can defend myself should the Turks attack me."

I was excessively disgusted; he had just been saved by my intervention,
and his manner of thanking me was by begging most pertinaciously for the
rifle that I had refused him on more than twenty occasions. I requested
him never to mention the subject again, as I would not part with it
under any circumstances. Just at this moment I heard an uproar outside
my gate, and loud screams, attended with heavy blows. A man was dragged
past the entrance of the courtyard bound hand and foot, and was
immediately cudgelled to death by a crowd of natives. This operation
continued for some minutes, until his bones had been thoroughly broken
up by the repeated blows of clubs. The body was dragged to a grove of
plantains, and was there left for the vultures, who in a few minutes
congregated around it.

It appeared that the offence thus summarily punished was the simple act
of conversing with some of the natives who had attended Mahommed's men
from Fowooka's island to Kisoona: a conversation with one of the enemy
was considered high treason, and was punished with immediate death. In
such cases, where either Kamrasi or his brother M'Gambi determined upon
the sudden execution of a criminal, the signal was given by touching the
condemned with the point of a lance: this sign was the order that was
immediately obeyed by the guards who were in attendance, and the culprit
was beaten to death upon the spot. Sometimes the condemned was touched
by a stick instead of a lance-point; this was a signal that he should be
killed by the lance, and the sentence was carried out by thrusting him
through the body with numerous spears--thus the instrument used to slay
the criminal was always contrary to the sign.

On the day following this event, drums were beating, horns blowing, and
crowds of natives were singing and dancing in all directions; pots of
plantain cider were distributed, and general festivities proclaimed the
joy of the people at the news that Mahommed's party had retreated across
the river, according to their agreement with me. My men had returned
with a letter from Mahommed, stating that he was neither afraid of
Ibrahim's people nor of Kamrasi, but that as I claimed the country, he
must retire. Not only had he retired with his thwarted allies, but,
disgusted at the failure of his expedition, he had quarrelled with
Fowooka, and had plundered him of all his cattle, together with a number
of slaves: this termination of the affair had so delighted Kamrasi that
he had ordered general rejoicings: he killed a number of oxen, and
distributed them among his people, and intoxicated half the country with
presents of maroua, or the plantain cider.

Altogether Mahommed, the vakeel of Debono, had behaved well to me in
this affair, although rather shabbily to his allies: he sent me six
pieces of soap, and a few strings of blue beads and jenettos (red glass
beads) as a proof that he parted with no ill feeling. Hardly were the
Turks in retreat when Kamrasi determined to give the finishing stroke to
his enemies. He sent great quantities of ivory to the camp, and one
evening his people laid about twenty tusks at my door, begging me to
count them. I told him to give the ivory to Ibrahim's men, as I required
nothing; but that should Ibrahim find a large quantity ready for him on
his return to the country, he would do anything that he might desire.

A few days later, whole lines of porters arrived, carrying enormous
elephants' tusks to Eddrees, the vakeel. Early the next morning,
Kamrasi's entire army arrived laden with provisions, each man carrying
about 40 lbs. of flour in a package upon his head. The Turks' party of
ten men joined them, and I heard that an attack was meditated upon

A few days after the expedition had started, the Turks and about 1,000
natives returned. Kamrasi was overjoyed; they had gained a complete
victory, having entirely routed Fowooka, and not only captured the
islands and massacred the greater number of the inhabitants, but they
had captured all the wives of the rebel chiefs, together with a number
of inferior slaves, and a herd of goats that had fortunately escaped the
search of Mahommed's retreating party. Fowooka and Owine had escaped by
crossing to the northern shore, but their power was irretrievably
ruined, their villages plundered and burned, and their women and
children captured.

A number of old women had been taken in the general razzia; these could
not walk sufficiently fast to keep up with their victors during the
return march, they had accordingly all been killed on the road as being
cumbersome: in every case they were killed by being beaten on the back
of the neck with a club. Such were the brutalities indulged in.

On the following morning I went to visit the captives; the women were
sitting in an open shed, apparently much dejected. I examined the hands
of about fourteen, all of which were well shaped and beautifully soft,
proving that they were women of high degree who never worked
laboriously: they were for the most part remarkably good looking, of
soft and pleasing expression, dark brown complexion, fine noses, woolly
hair, and good figures, precisely similar to the general style of women
in Chopi and Unyoro.

Among the captives was a woman with a most beautiful child, a boy about
twelve months old; all these were slaves, and the greater number were in
a most pitiable state, being perfectly unfit for labour, having been
accustomed to luxury as the women of chiefs of high position. Curiously
enough, the woman Bacheeta, who had accompanied us to visit these
unfortunate captives, now recognised her former mistress, who was the
wife of the murdered Sali; she had been captured with the wives and
daughters of Rionga. Bacheeta immediately fell on her knees and crept
towards her on all fours, precisely as the subjects of Kamrasi were
accustomed to approach his throne. Sali had held as high a position as
Fowooka, and had been treacherously killed by Kamrasi at M'rooli in the
presence of Bacheeta. At that time peace had been established between
Kamrasi and the three great chiefs, who were invited to a conference at
M'rooli with a treacherous design on the part of the king. Hardly had
they arrived, when Rionga was seized by Kamrasi's orders, and confined
in a circular but with high mud walls and no doorway; the prisoner was
hoisted up and lowered down through an aperture in the roof. He was
condemned to be burnt alive on the following morning for some imaginary
offence, while Sali and Fowooka were to be either pardoned or murdered,
as circumstances might dictate. Sali was a great friend of Rionga, and
determined to rescue him; accordingly he plied the guards with drink,
and engaged them in singing throughout the night on one side of the
prison, while his men burrowed like rabbits beneath the wall on the
opposite side, and rescued Rionga, who escaped.

Sali showed extreme folly in remaining at M'rooli, and Kamrasi,
suspicious of his complicity, immediately ordered him to be seized and
cut to pieces: he was accordingly tied to a stake, and tortured by
having his limbs cut off piecemeal--the hands being first severed at
the wrists, and the arms at the elbow joints. Bacheeta was an eyewitness
of this horrible act, and testified to the courage of Sali, who, while
under the torture, cried out to his friends in the crowd, warning them
to fly and save themselves, as he was a dead man, and they would share
his fate should they remain. Some escaped, including Fowooka, but many
were massacred on the spot, and the woman Bacheeta was captured by
Kamrasi and subsequently sent by him to the Turks' camp at Faloro, as
already described. From that day unremitting warfare was carried on
between Kamrasi and the island chiefs; the climax was their defeat, and
the capture of their women, through the assistance of the Turks.

Kamrasi's delight at the victory knew no bounds; ivory poured into the
camp, and a hut was actually filled with elephants' tusks of the largest
size. Eddrees, the leader of the Turks' party, knowing that the victory
was gained by the aid of his guns, refused to give up the captives on
the demand of the king, claiming them as prisoners belonging to Ibrahim,
and declining any arguments upon the matter until his master should
arrive in the country. Kamrasi urged that, although the guns had been of
great service, no prisoners could have been captured without the aid of
his canoes, that had been brought by land, dragged all the way from
Karuma by hundreds of his people in readiness for the attack upon the

As usual in all cases of dispute, I was to be referee. Kamrasi sent his
factotum Cassave in the night to my hut to confer with me without the
Turks' knowledge; then came his brother, M'Gambi, and at length, after
being pestered daily by messengers, the great king arrived in person. He
said that Eddrees was excessively insolent, and had threatened to shoot
him; that he had insulted him when on his throne surrounded by his
chiefs, and that, had he not been introduced into the country by me, he
would have killed him and his men on the spot.

I advised Kamrasi not to talk too big, as he had lately seen what only
ten guns had effected in the fight with Fowooka, and he might imagine
the results that would occur should he even hint at hostility, as the
large parties of Ibrahim and the men of Mahommed Wat-el-Mek would
immediately unite and destroy both him and his country, and place his
now beaten enemy Fowooka upon HIS throne should a hair of a Turk's head
be missing. The gallant Kamrasi turned almost green at the bare
suggestion of this possibility. I advised him not to quarrel about
straws, assuring him, that as I had become responsible for the behaviour
of the Turks while in his country, he need have no fear; but that, on
the other hand, he must be both just and generous. If he would give them
a supply of ivory, he might always reckon upon them as valuable allies;
but if he attempted to quarrel, they would assuredly destroy his country
after my departure. Of course he requested me never to think of leaving
him, but to take up my abode for life in Kitwara, promising me all that
I should require in addition to a large territory. I replied that the
climate did not agree with me, and that nothing would induce me to
remain, but that, as the boats would not arrive at Gondokoro for six
months (until February), I might as well reside with him as anywhere
else. At the same time, I assured him that his professed friendship for
me was a delusion, as he only regarded me as a shield between him and
danger. After a long conversation, I succeeded in persuading him not to
interfere in matters regarding prisoners of war, and to look upon
Eddrees only as a vakeel until Ibrahim should arrive. He left my hut
promising not to mention the affair again; but the next, day he sent
Cassave to Eddrees, demanding two of the prettiest women who were
captives. In reply, Eddrees, who was an extremely hotheaded fellow, went
straight to Kamrasi, and spoke to him in a most insulting manner,
refusing his request. The king immediately rose from his seat and turned
his back upon the offender. Off rushed Eddrees, boiling with passion, to
his camp, summoned his men well armed, and marched straight towards the
residence of Kamrasi to demand satisfaction for the affront.

Fortunately, my vakeel brought me the intelligence, and I sent after
him, ordering his immediate return, and declaring that no one should
break the peace so long as I was in the country. In about ten minutes,
both he and his men slunk back ashamed, mutually accusing each other, as
is usual in cases of failure. This was an instance of the madness of
these Turks in assuming the offensive, when, in the event of a fight,
defeat must have been certain. They were positively without ammunition!
having fired away all their cartridges except about five rounds for each
man in the attack upon Fowooka. Fortunately, this was unknown to
Kamrasi. I had a large supply, as my men were never permitted to fire a
shot without my special permission.

The party of Turks were now completely in my power. I sent for Eddrees,
and also for the king: the latter had already heard from the natives of
the approach of the armed Turks, and of my interference. He refused to
appear in person, but sent his brother M'Gambi, who was, as usual, the
cat's-paw. M'Gambi was highly offended, and declared that Kamrasi had
forbidden Eddrees ever to appear again in his presence. I insisted upon
Eddrees apologizing, and it was resolved that all future negotiations
should be carried on through me alone.

I suggested that it would be advisable for all parties that a message
should be sent without delay to Ibrahim at Shooa, as it was highly
necessary that he should be present, as I should not continue
responsible for the conduct of the Turks. When I arrived in Unyoro it
was with the intention of visiting the lake, and returning immediately.
I had been delayed entirely through Kamrasi's orders, and I could not be
held responsible for Eddrees;--my agreement had been to guarantee the
conduct of the Turks under Ibrahim, who was the commander of the party.
Eddrees, who, being without ammunition, was now excessively humble and
wished for reinforcements, offered to send five men to Shooa, provided
that Kamrasi would allow some natives to accompany them. This did not
suit the ideas of the suspicious M'Gambi, who suspected that he intended
to misrepresent Kamrasi's conduct to prejudice Ibrahim against him.
Accordingly, he declined his offer, but agreed to give porters and
guides, should I wish to send any of my men with a letter. This suited
my views exactly; I longed to quit Kamrasi's country, as Kisoona was a
prison of high grass and inaction, and could I only return to Shooa, I
could pass my time pleasantly in a fine open country and healthy
climate, with the advantage of being five days' march nearer home than
Unyoro. Accordingly, I instructed my vakeel to write a letter to
Ibrahim, calling him immediately to Kisoona, informing him that a large
quantity of ivory was collected, which, should Eddrees create a
disturbance, would be lost. On the following morning, four of my men
started for Shooa, accompanied by a number of natives.

Kisoona relapsed into its former monotony-the war with Fowooka being
over, the natives, free from care, passed their time in singing and
drinking; it was next to impossible to sleep at night, as crowds of
people all drunk were yelling in chorus, blowing horns and beating drums
from sunset until morning. The women took no part in this amusement, as
it was the custom in Unyoro for the men to enjoy themselves in laziness,
while the women performed all the labour of the fields. Thus they were
fatigued, and glad to rest, while the men passed the night in uproarious
merriment. The usual style of singing was a rapid chant delivered as a
solo, while at intervals the crowd burst out in a deafening chorus
together with the drums and horns; the latter were formed of immense
gourds which, growing in a peculiar shape, with long bottle necks, were
easily converted into musical (?) instruments. Every now and then a cry
of fire in the middle of the night enlivened the ennui of our existence;
the huts were littered deep with straw, and the inmates, intoxicated,
frequently fell asleep with their huge pipes alight, which, falling in
the dry straw, at once occasioned a conflagration. In such cases the
flames spread from hut to hut with immense rapidity, and frequently four
or five hundred huts in Kamrasi's large camp were destroyed by fire, and
rebuilt in a few days. I was anxious concerning my powder, as, in the
event of fire, the blaze of the straw hut was so instantaneous that
nothing could be saved: should my powder explode, I should be entirely
defenceless. Accordingly, after a conflagration in my neighbourhood, I
insisted upon removing all huts within a circuit of thirty yards of my
dwelling: the natives demurring, I at once ordered my men to pull down
the houses, and thereby relieved myself from drunken and dangerous

Although we had been regularly supplied with beef by the king, we now
found it most difficult to procure fowls; the war with Fowooka had
occasioned the destruction of nearly all the poultry in the
neighbourhood of Kisoona, as Kamrasi and his kojoors (magicians) were
occupied with daily sacrifices, deducing prognostications of coming
events from the appearances of the entrails of the birds slain. The king
was surrounded by sorcerers, both men and women; these people were
distinguished from others by witch-like chaplets of various dried roots
worn upon the head; some of them had dried lizards, crocodiles' teeth,
lions' claws, minute tortoise-shells, &c. added to their collection of
charms. They could have subscribed to the witches' cauldron of Macbeth:

"Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blindworm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble."

On the first appearance of these women, many of whom were old and
haggard, I felt inclined to repeat Banquo's question: "What are these,
so withered and so wild in their attire, that look not like the
inhabitants o' the earth, and yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught
that man may question?"

In such witches and wizards Kamrasi and his people believed implicitly.
Bacheeta, and also my men, told me that when my wife was expected to die
during the attack of coup de soleil, the guide had procured a witch, who
had killed a fowl to question it, "Whether she would recover and reach
the lake?" The fowl in its dying struggle protruded its tongue, which
sign is considered affirmative; after this reply the natives had no
doubt of the result. These people, although far superior to the tribes
on the north of the Nile in general intelligence, had no idea of a
Supreme Being, nor any object of worship, their faith resting upon a
simple belief in magic like that of the natives of Madi and Obbo.

Some weeks passed without a reply from Shooa to the letter I had
forwarded by my men, neither had any news been received of their
arrival; we had relapsed into the usual monotony of existence. This was
happily broken by a most important event.

On the 6th September, M'Gambi came to my hut in a state of great
excitement, with the intelligence that the M'was, the natives of Uganda,
had invaded Kamrasi's country with a large army; that they had already
crossed the Kafoor river and had captured M'rooli, and that they were
marching through the country direct to Kisoona, with the intention of
killing Kamrasi and of attacking us, and annexing the country of Unyoro
to M'tese's dominions. My force was reduced by four men that I had sent
to 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

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 of my men
guarded the ammunition, and I remained in company with the litter and
five of my men to bring up the rear. The progress of the litter was so
slow that, after travelling all day until sunset, we were outmarched,
and just as it was getting dark, we arrived at a spot where a path
branched to the south, while the main path that we had been following
continued E.N.E. At this point a native was waiting, having been
stationed there by the Turks to direct us to the south; he explained
that the people had halted at a village close by. Pushing our way
through the narrow path we shortly arrived at the village of Deang. This
consisted of a few deserted huts scattered among extensive groves of
plantains. Here we found Eddrees and the Turks, with their captives from
the attack on Fowooka; passing their huts, we took possession of two
clean and new huts in the midst of a well-cultivated field of beans that
were about six inches above the ground, the cleared field forming an
oasis in the middle of the surrounding grass jungle There was no water;
it was already dark, and, although we had travelled through the heat of
the day, no one had drunk since the morning. We were intensely thirsty,
and the men searched in vain among the deserted huts in the hope of
finding a supply in the water jars they were all empty. Fortunately we
had a little sour milk in a jar that we had carried with us, barely
sufficient for two persons. There was nothing to eat except unripe
plantains: these we boiled as a substitute for potatoes. I disarmed all
the porters, placing their lances and shields under my bedstead in the
hut, lest their owners should abscond during the night. It now appeared
that our party had scattered most disgracefully; those in advance with
the ammunition who bad been ordered not to quit their charge for an
instant, had outmarched the main body, leaving Eddrees and a few men
with the captive women, who could not walk fast, and my small guard who
had attended the litter.

No one ate much that night, as all were too thirsty. On the following
morning I found to my dismay that all of our porters had absconded,
except two men who had slept in the same hut with my people; we were for
about the hundredth time deserted in this detestable country. I ordered
Eddrees to push on to Foweera, and to desire my men with the ammunition
to wait there until I should arrive, and to request Kamrasi to send
porters immediately to assist us. Foweera was about thirteen miles from
Deang, our present position. Eddrees and his party started, and I
immediately sent my men with empty jars to search in all directions for
water; they returned in about an hour, having been unsuccessful. I again
ordered them to search in another direction, and should they find a
native, to force him to be their guide to a drinking place. In about
three hours they returned, accompanied by two old men, and laden with
three large jars of good water; they had found the old people in a
deserted village, and they had guided them to a spring about three miles
distant. Our chief want being supplied, we had no fear of starving, as
there was abundance of plantains, and we had about a dozen cheeses that
we had manufactured while at Kisoona, in addition to a large supply of
flour. A slight touch of fever attacked me, and I at length fell asleep.

I was awakened by the voices of my men, who were standing at the door of
my hut with most doleful countenances. They explained that Richarn was
missing, and was supposed to have been killed by the natives. My vakeel
held a broken ramrod in his hand: this suspicious witness was covered
with blood. It appeared that while I was asleep, Richarn and one of my
men named Mahommed had taken their guns, and without orders had rambled
through the country in search of a village, with the intention of
procuring porters, if possible, to carry us to Foweera.

They had arrived at a nest of small villages, and had succeeded in
engaging four men; these Richarn left in charge of Mahommed while he
proceeded alone to a neighbouring village. Shortly after his departure
Mahommed heard the report of a gun in that direction about half a mile
distant, and leaving his charge, he ran towards the spot. On arrival, he
found the village deserted, and on searching the neighbourhood, and
vainly calling Richarn, he came upon a large pool of blood opposite
several huts; lying upon the blood was the broken ramrod of Richarn's
gun. After searching without success, he had returned with the
melancholy report of this disaster. I was very fond of Richarn; he had
followed me faithfully for years, and with fewer faults than most of his
race, he had exhibited many sterling qualities. I waited for two days in
this spot, searching for him in all directions. On one occasion my men
saw a number of men and women howling in a village not far from the
place where the accident had happened; on the approach of my people they
fled into the jungles: thus, there was no doubt that Richarn must have
shot a man before he had been killed, as the natives were mourning for
the dead.

I was much distressed at this calamity; my faithful Richarn was dead,
and the double-barrelled Purdey that he carried was lost; this belonged
to my friend Oswell, of South African and Lake Ngami celebrity; it was a
much-prized weapon, with which he had hunted for five years all the
heavy game of Africa with such untiring zeal that much of the wood of
the stock was eaten away by the "wait a bit" thorns in his passage on
horseback at full speed through the jungles. He had very kindly lent me
this old companion of his sports, and I had entrusted it to Richarn as
my most careful man: both man and gun were now lost.

Having vainly searched for two days, and my men having seen several
village dogs with their mouths and feet covered with blood, we came to
the conclusion that his body had been dragged into the grass jungle by
the natives, and there, concealed, it had been discovered and devoured
by the dogs.

No porters had arrived from Kamrasi, neither had any reply been sent to
the message I had forwarded by Eddrees;--the evening arrived, and,
much dispirited at the loss of my old servant, I lay down on my angarep
for the night. At about eight o'clock, in the stillness of our solitude,
my men asleep, with the exception of the sentry, we were startled by the
sound of a nogara at no great distance to the south of our huts. The two
natives who had remained with us immediately woke the men, and declared
that the drums we heard were those of the M'was, who were evidently
approaching our village;--the natives knew the peculiar sound of the
nogaras of the enemy, which were different to those of Kamrasi. This was
rather awkward--our ammunition was at Foweera, and we had no more than
the supply in our cartouche boxes, my men thirty rounds each, while I
carried in my pouch twenty-one. Our position was untenable, as the
drinking place was three miles distant. Again the nogara sounded, and
the native guides declared that they could not remain where we then
were, but they would conceal themselves in the high grass. My wife
proposed that we should forsake our luggage, and march at once for
Foweera and effect a junction with our men and ammunition before
daybreak. I was sure that it could not be less than twelve or thirteen
miles, and in her weak state it would be impossible for her to
accomplish the distance, through high grass, in darkness, over a rough
path, with the chance of the route being already occupied by the enemy.
However, she was determined to risk the march. I accordingly prepared to
start at 9 P.M., as at that time the moon would be about 30 degrees
above the horizon and would afford us a good light. I piled all the
luggage within the hut, packed our blankets in a canvas bag, to be
carried by one of the natives, and ordered one of our black women to
carry a jar of water. Thus provided, and forsaking all other effects, we
started at exactly nine o'clock, following our two natives as guides.

Our course was about E.N.E. The moon was bright, but the great height of
the grass shadowed the narrow path so that neither ruts nor stones were
visible. The dew was exceedingly heavy, and in brushing through the rank
vegetation we were soon wet to the skin. This was our first attempt at
walking a distance since many months, and being dreadfully out of
condition, I much feared that one of us might be attacked by fever
before we should have accomplished the march; at all events, there was
no alternative but to push ahead until we should reach Foweera, however
distant. We walked for about three hours along a narrow but
unmistakeable path, well trodden by the cattle and people that had
accompanied Kamrasi. Suddenly we arrived at a place where a path
diverged to the right, while another led to the left: the former was
much trodden by cattle, and the guides declared this to be the right
direction. Perfectly certain of their mistake, as Foweera lay to the
east, while such a course would lead us due south, I refused to follow,
and ordered the party to halt while I made a survey of the
neighbourhood. I shortly discovered in the bright moonlight that the
larger path to the south had been caused by the cattle that had been
driven in that direction, but had again returned by the same route. It
was evident that some village lay to the south, at which Kamrasi and his
army had slept, and that they had returned by the same path to the
Foweera main route on the following morning. I soon discovered cattle
tracks on the smaller path to the east: this I determined to follow. My
guides were of little use, and they confessed that they had only once
visited the Foweera country. We were bound for the principal village
that belonged to the chief Kalloe, an excellent man, who had frequently
visited us at Kisoona.

Not far from the branch roads we came suddenly upon a few huts, the
inmates of which were awake. They gave us the unpleasant intelligence
that the M'was occupied the country in advance, and that we should not
be able to pass them on our present route, as they were close to that
spot. It was now past midnight, the country was perfectly still, and
having no confidence in the guides I led the way.

About a mile from the huts that we had passed we suddenly observed the
light of numerous fires, and a great number of temporary huts formed of
green grass and plantain leaves: this was the camp of the M'was. I did
not observe any people, nor did we wait long in our present position,
but taking a path that led to the north, we quietly and stealthily
continued our march through walls of high grass, until in about an hour
we arrived in a totally different country. There was no longer the
dismal grass jungle in which a man was as much lost as a rabbit in a
field of corn, but beautiful park-like glades of rich and tender grass,
like an English meadow, stretched before us in the pale moonlight,
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

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 far the most acceptable welcome to
Richarn, who drank like a whale. So large was the gourd, that even after
the mighty draught enough remained for the rest of the party to sip.
Refreshed by the much-loved drink, Richarn now told us his story. When
separated from Mahommed at the village he had found a great number of
people, some of whom were our runaway porters; on his attempting to
persuade them to return, a quarrel had taken place, and the chief of the
village heading his men had advanced on Richarn and seized his gun;--at
the same time the chief called to his men to kill him. Richarn drew his
knife to release his gun; seeing which, the chief relaxed his hold, and
stepping a pace back he raised his lance to strike;--at the same moment
Richarn pulled the trigger and shot him dead. The natives,
panic-stricken at the sudden effect of the shot, rushed away, and
Richarn, profiting by the opportunity, disappeared in the high grass,
and fled. Once in the interminable sea of grass that was almost
impenetrable, he wandered for two days without water: hearing the
distant roar of the Nile, he at length reached it when nearly exhausted
with thirst and fatigue;--he then followed up the stream to Karuma,
avoided the M'was,--and knowing the road thence to M'rooli that we had
formerly travelled, he arrived at Foweera. His ramrod had been broken in
the struggle when the chief seized his gun, and to his great
astonishment I now showed him the piece that we had picked up on the
pool of blood. He had made an excellent loading-rod with his hunting
knife by shaping a sapling of hard wood, and had reloaded his gun; thus
with a good supply of ammunition he had not much fear of the natives.
Kamrasi had evidently heard the true account of the affair.

Late in the evening we heard from a native that the whole of Kalloe's
cattle that he had driven from Foweera had been captured by the enemy on
their way to the river island, and that one of his sons and several
natives who had driven them were killed;--this was the result of his
precipitate flight.

The M'was followed up their advantages with uninterrupted success,
overrunning the entire country even to the shores of the Albert lake,
and driving off the cattle, together with all the women that had not
taken refuge upon the numerous islands of the Victoria Nile. During this
time, Kamrasi and his wives, together with his principal chiefs, resided
in the misery of mosquitoes and malaria on the river; great numbers of
people died of disease and starvation.

M'Gambi appeared frequently at our camp in order to procure corn, and
from him we received reports of the distress of the people; his
appearance had much changed; he looked half starved, and complained that
he had nothing to drink but Nile water, as they had neither corn, nor
pots in which they could make merissa, and the M'was had destroyed all
the plantains, therefore they could not prepare cider.

Among other losses my two cows were reported by M'Gambi to have been
stolen by the M'was, in company with the cattle of Kamrasi, with which
they had been driven from Kisoona. I did not believe it, as he also told
me that all the luggage that I had left at Deang had like wise been
stolen by the enemy. But I had heard from Bacheeta that the natives of
that neighbourhood had carried it (about six loads) direct to Kamrasi's
island; thus it was in his possession at the same time that he declared
it to have been stolen by the M'was. I told him, that I should hold him
responsible, and that he should pay me the value of the lost effects in
a certain number of cows.

A few days after this conversation, my cows and the whole of my luggage
were delivered to me in safety. Kamrasi had evidently intended to
appropriate them, but being pressed by the M'was and his old enemies on
the east bank of the Nile (the Langgos), who had made common cause with
the invaders, the time was not favourable for a quarrel with either me
or the Turks.

On the evening of the 19th September, a few days after this occurrence,
intelligence was brought into camp that Ibrahim and a hundred men had
arrived at Karuma Falls at the ferry by which we had formerly crossed
the river to Atada. I immediately despatched ten men to investigate the
truth of the report. In about two hours they returned in high spirits,
having exchanged greeting with Ibrahim and his party across the river.
Kamrasi had despatched boats to another ferry above the Falls to
facilitate the passage of the entire party on the following morning, as
he wished them to attack the M'was immediately.

Not being desirous of such an encounter, the M'was, who had witnessed
the arrival of this powerful reinforcement, immediately retreated, and
by sunrise they had fallen back about twenty miles on the road to

On the morning of the 20th Ibrahim arrived, bringing with him the Post
from England; that being addressed to the consul at Khartoum had been
forwarded to Gondokoro by the annual boats, and taken charge of by
Ibrahim on his arrival at that station last April with ivory from the
interior. My letters were of very old dates, none under two years, with
the exception of one from Speke, who had sent me the Illustrated London
News, containing his portrait and that of Grant; also Punch, with an
illustration of Punch's discovery of the Nile sources. For a whole day I
revelled in the luxury of letters and newspapers.

Ibrahim had very kindly thought of our necessities when at Gondokoro,
and had brought me a piece of coarse cotton cloth of Arab manufacture
(darmoor) for clothes for myself, and a piece of cotton print for a
dress for Mrs. Baker, in addition to a large jar of honey, and some rice
and coffee--the latter being the balance of my old stock that I bad
been obliged to forsake for want of porters at Shooa. He told me that
all my effects that I had left at Obbo had been returned to Gondokoro,
and that my two men, whom I had left in charge, had returned with them
to Khartoum, on board the vessel that had been sent for me from that
place, but which had joined the traders' boats on their return voyage.
Ibrahim had assured the captain that it was impossible that we could
arrive during that year. It was thus fortunate that we had not pushed on
for Gondokoro after April in expectation of finding the boat awaiting
us. However, "All's well that ends well," and Ibrahim was astounded at
our success, but rather shocked at our personal appearance, as we were
thin and haggard, and our clothes had been so frequently repaired that
they would hardly hold together.

On the 23d September we moved our camp, and took possession of a village
within half a mile of the Victoria Nile. Kamrasi was now very valorous,
and returned from his island to a large village on the banks of the
river. He sent Ibrahim an immense quantity of ivory, in addition to the
store that had been concealed by Eddrees on our departure from Kisoona;
this was sent for, and in a few days it was safely deposited in the
general camp. Ibrahim was amazed at the fortune that awaited him. I
congratulated him most heartily on the success of the two expeditions--
the geographical, and the ivory trade; the latter having far more than
fulfilled my promise.

Kamrasi determined to invade the Langgo country immediately, as they had
received Fowooka after his defeat, and he was now residing with the
chief. Accordingly, eighty of Ibrahim's men were despatched across the
river, and in three days they destroyed a number of villages, and
captured about 200 head of cattle, together with a number of prisoners,
including many women. Great rejoicings took place on their return;
Ibrahim presented Kamrasi with a hundred cows, and in return for this
generosity the king sent thirty immense tusks, and promised a hundred
more within a few days.

Another expedition was demanded, and was quickly undertaken with similar
success; this time Fowooka narrowly escaped, as a Turk fired at him, but
missed and killed a native who stood by him. On the return of the party,
Kamrasi received another present of cattle, and again the ivory flowed
into the camp.

In the meantime, I had made myself excessively comfortable; we were in a
beautiful and highly cultivated district, in the midst of immense fields
of sweet potatoes. The idea struck me that I could manufacture spirit
from this source, as they were so excessively sweet as to be
disagreeable as a vegetable. Accordingly I collected a great number of
large jars that were used by the natives for brewing merissa; in these I
boiled several hundredweight of potatoes to a pulp. There were jars
containing about twenty gallons; these I filled with the pulp mashed
with water, to which I added yeast from a brewing of merissa. While this
mixture was fermenting I constructed my still, by fixing a jar of about
twelve gallons on a neat furnace of clay, and inserting the mouth of a
smaller jar upon the top; the smaller jar thus inverted became the dome
of the still. In the top of this I bored a hole, in which I fitted a
long reed of about an inch in diameter, which descended to my condenser;
the latter was the kettle, sunk by a weight in a large pan of cold

My still worked beautifully, and produced four or five bottles of good
spirit daily;--this I stored in large bottle gourds, containing about
four gallons each. My men were excessively fond of attending to the
distillery, especially Richarn, who took a deep interest in the
operation, but who was frequently found dead asleep on his back; the
fire out; and the still at a standstill. Of course he could not be
suspected of having tried the produce of his manufactory! I found an
extraordinary change in my health from the time that I commenced
drinking the potato whisky. Every day I drank hot toddy. I became
strong, and from that time to the present day my fever left me,
occurring only once or twice during the first six months, and then
quitting me entirely. Not having tasted either wine or spirits for
nearly two years, the sudden change from total abstinence to a moderate
allowance of stimulant produced a marvellous effect. Ibrahim and some of
his men established stills; several became intoxicated, which so
delighted M'Gambi, who happened to be present, that he begged a bottle
of spirit from Ibrahim as a sample for Kamrasi. It appears that the king
got drunk so quickly upon the potent spirit, that he had an especial
desire to repeat the dose--he called it the maroua (cider) of our
country, and pronounced it so far superior to his own that he determined
to establish a factory. When I explained to him that it was the produce
of sweet potatoes, he expressed his great regret that he had never
sufficiently appreciated their value, and he expressed a determination
to cultivate whole districts. Ibrahim was requested to leave one of his
men who understood the management of a still, to establish and undertake
the direction of "King Kamrasi's Central African Unyoro Potato-Whisky
Company, unlimited."

Ibrahim had brought a variety of presents for Kamrasi: fifty pounds of
beads, a revolver pistol, cotton cloths, blue glass tumblers,
looking-glasses, &c. These donations, added to the pleasure afforded by
the defeat of his enemies, put his majesty into excellent humour, sad he
frequently came to visit us. On one occasion I gave him the portraits of
Speke and Grant: the latter he recognised immediately; he could not
understand the pictures in Punch, declaring that he (Punch) was not an
Englishman, as he neither resembled me nor Speke; but he was exceedingly
pleased with the Paris fashions in the Illustrated London News, which we
cut out with a pair of scissors, and gave him as specimens of English
ladies in full dress.

The war being concluded by the total discomfiture of his enemies,
Kamrasi was determined to destroy all those inhabitants of Foweera who
had in any way connived as the attack of the M'was. Daily executions
took place in the summary manner already described, the victims being
captured, led before the king, and butchered in his presence without a

Among others suspected as favourable to revolution was Kalloe, the chief
of Foweera; next to Kamrasi and M'Gambi he was the principal man in the
kingdom; he was much beloved by the entire population of Chopi and
Foweera, and I had always found him most intelligent and friendly. One
night, at about eight o'clock, Ibrahim came to my hut looking very
mysterious, and after assuring himself that no one was present, he
confided to me that he had received orders from Kamrasi to attack
Kalloe's village before daybreak on the following morning, to surround
his dwelling, and to shoot him as he attempted to escape; Ibrahim was
further instructed to capture the women and children of the village as
his perquisites. At the very moment that thus treacherous compact had
been entered into with Ibrahim, Kamrasi had pretended to be upon the
most friendly terms with Kalloe, who was then in his camp; but he did
not lay violent hands upon him, as, many of the natives being in his
favour, the consequences might have been disagreeable: thus he had
secretly ordered his destruction. I at once desired Ibrahim at all
hazards to renounce so horrible a design. Never did I feel so full of
revolution as at that moment; my first impulse was to assist Kalloe to
dethrone Kamrasi, and to usurp the kingdom. Ibrahim had an eye to
business; he knew, that should he offend Kamrasi there would be an end
to the ivory trade for the present. The country was so rich in ivory
that it was a perfect bank upon which he could draw without limit,
provided that he remained an ally of the king; but no trade could be
carried on with the natives, all business being prohibited by Kamrasi,
who himself monopolised the profits. In the event of war, not a tusk
would be obtained, as the ivory in possession of the natives was never
stored in their huts, but was concealed in the earth. The Turks were now
mercenaries employed by the king to do any bloody work that he might

Ibrahim was in a dilemma. I offered to take the entire onus upon myself.
That Kalloe should not be murdered I was determined; the old man had on
several occasions been very obliging to me and to my people, and I
resolved to save him at any risk. His son, perfectly unsuspicious of
evil, was at that moment in our camp, having fraternized with some of my
men. I sent for him immediately and explained the entire plot,
concluding by telling him to run that instant at full speed to his
father (about two miles distant), and to send away all the women and
children from the village, but to bring Kalloe to my hut; that I would
hoist the British flag, as I had done at Kisoona, and this should
protect him from the bloodthirsty Kamrasi, who would not dare to seize
him. Should he refuse to trust me, he must fly immediately, as the Turks
would attack the village before daybreak. Away started the astonished
son in the dark night at full speed along the well-known path, to give
the warning.

I now arranged with Ibrahim that to avoid offending Kamrasi he should
make a false attack upon the village at the time appointed; he would
find it deserted, and there would be an end of the matter should Kalloe
prefer flight to trusting in my protection, which I felt sure he would.
Midnight arrived, and no signs of Kalloe had appeared; I went to sleep,
satisfied that he was safe. Before daybreak eighty men of the Turks'
party started upon their feigned expedition; in about two hours they
returned, having found the village deserted;--the bird had flown. I was
delighted at the success of this ruse, but I should have been more
satisfied had Kalloe placed himself in my hands: this I had felt sure he
would decline, as the character of the natives is generally so false and
mistrustful that he would suspect a snare.

At about noon we heard yells; drums were beating and horns blowing in
all directions. For the moment I thought that Kalloe had raised the
country against Kamrasi, as I observed many hundred men dressed for war,
scouring the beautiful open park, like hounds upon a scent. The Turks
beat their drum and called their men under arms beneath the ensign


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