Named Chenooda, seven days' march from Gondokoro, in the Latooka
country, whose men were, like themselves, Dongolowas; they had conspired
to mutiny at that place and to desert to the slave-hunting party with my
arms and ammunition, and to shoot me should I attempt to disarm them.
They also threatened to shoot my vakeel, who now, through fear of
punishment at Khartoum, exerted his influence to induce them to start.
Altogether it was a pleasant state of things.
I was determined at all hazards to start from Gondokoro for the
interior. From long experience with natives of wild countries I did not
despair of obtaining an influence over my men, however bad, could I once
quit Gondokoro and lead them among the wild and generally hostile tribes
of the country. They would then be separated from the contagion of the
slave-hunting parties, and would feel themselves dependent upon me for
guidance. Accordingly I professed to believe in their promises to
accompany me to the east, although I knew of their conspiracy; and I
trusted that by tact and good management I should eventually thwart all
their plans, and, although forced out of my intended course, should be
able to alter my route and to work round from the east to my original
plan of operations south. The interpreter given by Koorshid Aga had
absconded; this was a great loss, as I had no means of communication
with the natives except by casually engaging a Bari in the employment of
the traders, to whom I was obliged to pay exorbitantly in copper
bracelets for a few minutes' conversation.
A party of Koorshid's people had just arrived with ivory from the
Latooka country, bringing with them a number of that tribe as porters.
They were to return shortly, but they not only refused to allow me to
accompany them, but they declared their intention of forcibly repelling
me, should I attempt to advance by their route. This was a good excuse
for my men, who once more refused to proceed. By pressure upon the
vakeel they again yielded, but on condition that I would take one of the
mutineers named "Bellaal," who wished to join them, but whose offer I
had refused, as he had been a notorious ringleader in every mutiny. It
was a sine qua non that he was to go; and knowing the character of the
man, I felt convinced that it had been arranged that he should head the
mutiny conspired to be enacted upon our arrival at Chenooda's camp in
the Latooka country.
The plan that I had arranged was to leave all the baggage not
indispensable with Koorshid Aga at Gondokoro, who would return it to
Khartoum. I intended to wait until Koorshid's party should march, when I
resolved to follow them, as I did not believe they would dare to oppose
me by force, their master himself being friendly. I considered their
threats as mere idle boasting to frighten me from an attempt to follow
them; but there was another more serious cause of danger to be
apprehended.
On the route between Gondokoro and Latooka there was a powerful tribe
among the mountains of Ellyria. The chief of that tribe (Legge) had
formerly massacred a hundred and twenty of a trader's party. He was an
ally of Koorshid's people, who declared that they would raise the tribe
against me, which would end in the defeat or massacre of my party. There
was a difficult pass through the mountains of Ellyria which it would be
impossible to force; thus my small party of seventeen men would be
helpless. It would be merely necessary for the traders to request the
chief of Ellyria to attack my party to insure its destruction, as the
plunder of the baggage would be an ample reward.
There was no time for deliberation. Both the present and the future
looked as gloomy as could be imagined; but I had always expected
extraordinary difficulties, and they were, if possible, to be
surmounted. It was useless to speculate upon chances. There was no hope
of success in inaction, and the only resource was to drive through all
obstacles without calculating the risk.
The day arrived for the departure of Koorshid's people. They commenced
firing their usual signals, the drums beat, the Turkish ensign led the
way, and they marched at 2 o'clock P.M., sending a polite message
"DARING" me to follow them.
I immediately ordered the tent to be struck, the luggage to be arranged,
the animals to be collected, and everything to be ready for the march.
Richarn and Saat were in high spirits; even my unwilling men were
obliged to work, and by 7 P.M. we were all ready.
We had neither guide nor interpreter. Not one native was procurable, all
being under the influence of the traders, who had determined to render
our advance utterly impossible by preventing the natives from assisting
us. All had been threatened, and we, perfectly helpless, commenced the
desperate journey in darkness about an hour after sunset.
"Where shall we go?" said the men, just as the order was given to start.
"Who can travel without a guide? No one knows the road." The moon was
up, and the mountain of Belignan was distinctly visible about nine miles
distant. Knowing that the route lay on the east side of that mountain, I
led the way, Mrs. Baker riding by my side, and the British flag
following close behind us as a guide for the caravan of heavily laden
camels and donkeys. And thus we started on our march into Central Africa
on the 26th of March, 1863.
CHAPTER XV.
A start made at last - A forced march - Lightening the ship - Waiting for
the caravan - Success hangs in the balance - The greatest rascal in
Central Africa - Legge demands another bottle.
