The few huts that existed in this spot were mere ruins. Clouds had portended rain, and down it came, as it usually did once in every twenty-four hours. However, that passed away by the next morning, and the day broke discovering us about as wet and wretched as we were accustomed to be. I now started off four of my men with the boatmen and the interpreter Bacheeta to the nearest village, to inquire whether our guide Rabonga had arrived with our riding oxen, as our future travelling was to be on land, and the limit of our navigation must have been well known to him. After some hours the people returned, minus the boatmen, with a message from the headman of a village they had visited, that the oxen were there, but not the guide Rabonga, who had remained at Magungo, but that the animals should be brought to us that evening, together with porters to convey the luggage. In the evening a number of people arrived, bringing some plantain cider and plantains as a present from the headman; and promising that, upon the following morning, we should be conducted to his village.

The next day we started, but not until the afternoon, as we had to await the arrival of the headman, who was to escort us. Our oxen were brought, and if we looked wretched, the animals were a match. They had been bitten by the fly, thousands of which were at this spot. Their coats were staring, ears drooping, noses running, and heads hanging down; all the symptoms of fly-bite, together with extreme looseness of the bowels. I saw that it was all up with our animals. Weak as I was myself, I was obliged to walk, as my ox could not carry me up the steep inclination, and I toiled languidly to the summit of the cliff. It poured with rain. Upon arrival at the summit we were in precisely the same parklike land that characterises Chopi and Unyoro, but the grass was about seven feet high; and from the constant rain, and the extreme fertility of the soil, the country was choked with vegetation. We were now above the Murchison Falls, and we heard the roaring of the water beneath us to our left. We continued our route parallel to the river above the Falls, steering east; and a little before evening we arrived at a small village belonging to the headman who accompanied us. I was chilled and wet; my wife had fortunately been carried on her litter, which was protected by a hide roofing. Feverish and exhausted, I procured from the natives some good acid plums, and refreshed by these I was able to boil my thermometer and take the altitude.

On the following morning we started, the route as before parallel to the river, and so close that the roar of the rapids was extremely loud. The river flowed in a deep ravine upon our left. We continued for a day's march along the Somerset, crossing many ravines and torrents, until we turned suddenly down to the left, and arriving at the bank we were to be transported to an island called Patooan, that was the residence of a chief. It was about an hour after sunset, and being dark, my riding ox, who was being driven as too weak to carry me, fell into an elephant pitfall. After much hallooing, a canoe was brought from the island, which was not more than fifty yards from the mainland, and we were ferried across. We were both very ill with a sudden attack of fever; and my wife, not being able to stand, was, on arrival at the island, carried on a litter I knew not whither, escorted by some of my men, while I lay down on the wet ground quite exhausted with the annihilating disease. At length the remainder of my men crossed over, and those who had carried my wife to the village returning with firebrands, I managed to creep after them with the aid of a long stick, upon which I rested with both hands. After a walk, through a forest of high trees, for about a quarter of a mile, I arrived at a village where I was shown a wretched hut, the stars being visible through the roof. In this my wife lay dreadfully ill upon her angarep, and I fell down upon some straw. About an hour later, a violent thunderstorm broke over us, and our hut was perfectly flooded; we, being far too ill and helpless to move from our positions, remained dripping wet and shivering with fever until the morning. Our servants and people had, like all natives, made themselves much more comfortable than their employers; nor did they attempt to interfere with our misery in any way until summoned to appear at sunrise.

The island of Patooan was about half a mile long by 150 yards wide, and was one of the numerous masses of rocks that choke the river between Karuma Falls and the great Murchison cataract. The rock was entirely of grey granite, from the clefts of which beautiful forest trees grew so thickly that the entire island was in shade. In the middle of this secluded spot was a considerable village, thickly inhabited, as the population of the mainland had fled from their dwellings and had taken refuge upon the numerous river islands, as the war was raging between Rionga and Kamrasi. A succession of islands from the east of Patooan continued to within a march of Karuma Falls. These were in the possession of Rionga, and a still more powerful chief and ally, Fowooka, who were the deadly enemies of Kamrasi.

It now appeared that after my departure from M'rooli to search for the lake, Ibrahim had been instructed by Kamrasi to accompany his army, and attack Fowooka. This had been effected, but the attack had been confined to a bombardment by musketry from the high cliffs of the river upon the people confined upon one of the islands. A number of men had been killed, and Ibrahim had returned to Gondokoro with a quantity of ivory and porters supplied by Kamrasi; but he had left ten of his armed men as hostages with the king, to act as his guard until he should return on the following year to Unyoro. Ibrahim and his strong party having quitted the country, Fowooka had invaded the mainland of Chopi, and had burnt and destroyed all the villages, and killed many people, including a powerful chief of Kamrasi's, the father of the headman of the island of Patooan where we were now staying. Accordingly the fugitives from the destroyed villages had taken refuge upon the island of Patooan, and others of the same character. The headman informed us that it would be impossible to proceed along the bank of the river to Karuma, as that entire line of country was in possession of the enemy. This was sufficient to assure me that I should not procure porters.

There was no end to the difficulties and trouble in this horrible country. My exploration was completed, as it was by no means necessary to continue the route from Patooan to Karuma. I had followed the Somerset from its junction with the lake at Magungo to this point; here it was a beautiful river, precisely similar in character to the point at which I had left it at Karuma: we were now within thirty miles of that place, and about eighteen miles from the point opposite Rionga's island, where we had first hit upon the river on our arrival from the north. The direction was perfectly in accordance with my observations at Karuma, and at Magungo, the Somerset running from east to west. The river was about 180 to 200 yards in width, but much obstructed with rocks and islands; the stream ran at about four miles per hour, and the rapids and falls were so numerous that the roar of water had been continuous throughout our march from Murchison Falls. By observations of Casella's thermometer I made the altitude of the river level at the island of Patooan 3,195 feet; thus from this point to the level of the Albert lake at Magungo there was a fall of 475 feet—this difference being included between Patooan and the foot of Murchison Falls: the latter, being at the lowest estimate 120 feet, left 355 feet to be accounted for between Patooan and the top of the falls. As the ledges of rock throughout the course of the river formed a series of steps, this was a natural difference in altitude that suggested the correctness of the observations.

At the river level below Karuma Falls I had measured the altitude at 3,996 feet above the sea level. Thus, there was a fall from that point to Patooan of 801 feet, and a total of 1,276 feet in the descent of the river from Karuma to the Albert N'yanza. These measurements, most carefully taken, corroborated the opinion suggested by the natural appearance of the river, which was a mere succession of cataracts throughout its westerly course from Karuma.

To me these observations were more than usually interesting, as when I had met my friend Speke at Gondokoro he was much perplexed concerning the extraordinary difference in his observation between the altitude of the river level at Karuma Falls, lat. 2 degrees 15', and at Gebel Kookoo in the Madi country, lat. 3 degrees 34', the point at which he subsequently met the river. He KNEW that both rivers were the Nile, as he bad been told this by the natives; the one, before it had joined the Albert lake—the other, after its exit; but he had been told that the river was NAVIGABLE from Gebel Kookoo, lat. 3 degrees 34', straight up to the junction of the lake; thus, there could be no great difference in altitude between the lake and the Nile where he met it, in lat. 3 degrees 34'. Nevertheless, he found so enormous a difference in his observations between the river at Karuma and at Gebel Kookoo, that he concluded there must be a fall between Karuma and the Albert lake of at least 1,000 feet; by careful measurements I proved the closeness of his reasoning and observation, by finding a fall of only 275 feet more than he had anticipated. From Karuma to the Albert lake (although unvisited by Speke), he had marked upon his map, "river falls 1,000 feet;" by actual measurement I proved it to be 1,275 feet.

The altitudes measured by me have been examined, and the thermometer that I used had been tested at Kew, and its errors corrected since my return to England; thus all altitudes observed with that thermometer should be correct, as the results, after correction by Mr. Dunkin, of the Greenwich Royal Observatory, are those now quoted. It will therefore be interesting to compare the observations taken at the various points on the Nile and Albert lake in the countries of Unyoro and Chopi—the correctness of which relatively will be seen by comparison:—

1861. Jan. 22. Rionga's island, 80 feet above the Nile . . . 3,864 Jan. 25. Karuma, below the falls, river level Atadaj. . 3,996 Jan. 31. South of Karuma, river level on road to M'rooli 4,056

1864. Feb. 21. M'rooli lat. 1 degree 38' river level . . . . . . 4,061Ft. Mar. 14. Albert N'yanza, lake level . . . . . . . . . . . 2,720Ft. April 7. Island of Patooan (Shooa Moru) river level. . . . 3,195Ft.

By these observations it will be seen that from M'rooli, in lat. 1 degree 38' to Karuma in lat. 2 degree 15', there is a fall of sixty- five feet; say MINUS five feet, for the Karuma Falls equals sixty feet fall in 37' of latitude; or allowing for the great bend of the river, twenty miles of extra course, it will be equal to about sixty statute miles of actual river from M'rooli to Atada or Karuma Falls, showing a fall or one foot per mile. From M'rooli to the head of the Karuma Falls the river is navigable; thus the observations of altitudes showing a fall of one foot per mile must be extremely accurate.

The next observations to be compared are those from Karuma Falls throughout the westerly course of the river to the Albert lake:—

River level below Karuma Falls . . . . . . . . 3,996 feet Rionga's island 3,864—80 feet cliff . . . . . 3,784 = 212 fall. to the west. River level at island of Patooan (Shooa Moru). 3,195 = 589 fall. from Rionga's island. Level of Albert lake . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2,720 = 475 fall. from Patooan to lake. From Karuma . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1,276 fall.

These observations were extremely satisfactory, and showed that the thermometer (Casella's) behaved well at every boiling, as there was no confusion of altitudes, but each observation corroborated the preceding. The latitude of the island of Patooan by observation was 2 degrees 16': we were thus due west of Magungo, and east of Karuma Falls.



CHAPTER XIII.

TREACHEROUS DESIGNS OF THE NATIVES.

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 possession.

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 discovery.

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 supports.

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 started.

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 reply.

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 king.

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.



CHAPTER XIV.

AT HOME IN KISOONA.

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 drink.

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 manufacture.

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 morning.

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.



CHAPTER XV.

KAMRASI BEGS FOR THE BRITISH FLAG.

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 Fowooka.

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 islands.

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 neighbours.

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 aggression.