The effect produced made the crowd and ourselves explode with laughter.
The nervous ox, terrified at the sudden discharge between his legs, gave
a tremendous kick, and continued madly kicking and plunging, until
Mahomet was pitched over his head and lay sprawling on the ground. This
scene terminated the expedition.
Dismounting from our tired oxen, our first inquiry was concerning boats
and letters. What was the reply? Neither boats, letters, supplies, nor
any intelligence of friends or the civilized world! We had long since
been given up as dead by the inhabitants of Khartoum, and by all those
who understood the difficulties and dangers of the country. We were told
that some people had suggested that we might possibly have gone to
Zanzibar, but the general opinion was that we had all been killed.
At this cold and barren reply I felt almost choked. We had looked
forward to arriving at Gondokoro as to a home; we had expected that a
boat would have been sent on the chance of finding us, as I had left
money in the hands of an agent in Khartoum ; but there was literally
nothing to receive us, and we were helpless to return.
