He had promised to assist; but no promise of
a native is worth more than the breath of his mouth. If he failed me
now, the object of my enterprise would be lost. I should not be able to
move.
All my care and trouble would have been thrown away.
I was very anxious; but, without mentioning my suspicions, I ordered all
the heavy vessels to cross over to the east side of the river, to
prepare for disembarking the carts and general effects.
On the following morning the sheik, Bedden, arrived to visit me, with
many of his people. I had erected a tent on shore in which I could
receive him.
I was struck with a peculiar change in his manner, and after a short
conversation he asked me, "Why I had sent the vessels to the east side?"
I replied that they would begin to unload and prepare for the journey.
"Who is going to carry all your baggage?" continued Bedden, as though
the idea had occurred to him for the first time.
I was perfectly aghast at this cool and prostrating question. My
suspicions had been well founded.
I explained to Bedden that I had arrived according to his express
invitation, given some time before, when he had promised that his men
should convey my things as far as Lobore. I pretended that his question
had now been asked simply to amuse me, and I begged him in earnest to
lose no time in collecting his people, as I should require at least
2,000 carriers.
Bedden continued in a cold, stoical manner, and declared that his people
were determined not to work for me; they had never before carried for
"The Turks," and nothing would induce them to engage in such a labour.
I begged him to remember the importance of his promise, upon which I had
depended when making all my arrangements for the journey. If he failed
me now, I should be entirely ruined; whereas if he assisted me, as I had
relied upon his honour, we should always remain the firmest friends, and
he would be benefited by a grand herd of cattle, and would receive most
valuable presents.
He now declared "that his people had taken the matter into
consideration, and they were quite determined. They would not listen to
him, or be persuaded to anything they disliked. They never had carried,
and they never would."
I had the two natives with me who had resided for some time in our
station at Gondokoro. One of these men, named Pittia, endeavoured to
persuade Bedden to beat his nogara (big drum) and to summon his tribe;
he might then, in my presence, explain the work proposed, and his people
would see the cows which they would receive as payment for their labour.
Bedden looked very ill at his ease; but after some delay, he rose from
his seat, and declared his intention of immediately beating his nogara.
He took leave and departed with his people.
From my experience of Baris, I felt sure that I should never see Bedden
again.
He had hardly left the tent, when Pittia exclaimed, "I will follow him
and listen to what he says to his people. I believe he will tell them
NOT to carry the loads." Pittia immediately disappeared.
Many natives had collected on the east side of the river, where my
vessels had now formed a line alone the bank; I therefore crossed over
in the dingy to converse with them in the faint hope of securing
carriers.
The natives were squatting about in small groups, and they listened
coldly to all I had to say. The only answer I could obtain was, "that
they belonged to Bedden, and if he told them to carry our things, they
would obey; but without his order they could do nothing."
This is the regular African diplomacy when work is required. The people
say, "We must receive orders from our sheik." The sheik says, "I am
willing, but my people will not obey me." It is this passive resistance
that may ruin an expedition.
My first exploration in Africa must necessarily have failed had I not
been provided with transport animals. The readers of "The Albert
N'yanza" may remember that I could not obtain a single native, and that
I started from Gondokoro by moonlight without even an interpreter or
guide.
The horrible state of the White Nile had prevented all possibility of
conveying camels from Khartoum. My carts and camel harness were
prepared, but the invaluable animals could not be transported. I was
thus dependent upon such rotten reeds as native promises.
No one who is inexperienced in African travel can realize the hopeless
position of being left with a mass of material without any possibility
of transporting it.
The traveller may sit upon his box until he stiffens into a monument of
patience and despair, but the box will not move without a carrier. There
is only one method of travelling successfully, and this necessitates the
introduction of transport animals, where the baggage is heavy and upon
an extensive scale.
I felt perfectly helpless. My colonel, Abd-el-Kader, advised me to seize
the sheik, Bedden, and to tie him up until his people should have
delivered all the effects at Lobore.
This I might have done, but it might also have occasioned war, which
would prevent the possibility of securing carriers. I should also incur
the responsibility of having provoked the war by an act which, although
necessary, could hardly be justified according to civilized ideas.
I had very little hope, but I had so frequently seen a sudden ray of
good fortune when all had looked dark and cloudy, that I went to bed at
night trusting that something might turn up in our favour to-morrow.
