One man seemed to
hesitate, and stood about sixty yards distant, and demanded who we were.
Upon hearing from Colonel Abdel-Kader that it was "the Pacha," and that
"he need not be afraid," he told us that Abou Saood was at the station,
and that he would run back with the news.
The other messenger came timidly forward, until he stood close beneath
me. My wife was on horseback by my side.
Can it be possible? MOHAMMED, my old Cairo servant of former years?
The grand dragoman of the lower Nile reduced to this! My wife exclaimed,
"Ah, Mohammed, I am very glad to see you; but how wretched you appear!"
This was too much for the prodigal son; he seized my wife's hand to
kiss, and burst into tears.
Poor Mohammed! he had gone through many trials since we last met. When I
left him in Khartoum ill with guinea-worm in the leg, he was on his way
to Cairo; but after my departure he had been tempted by the
slave-traders to re-engage in the infamous but engrossing career, and he
too had become a slave-hunter. He had never received any pay, as the
custom of the slavers was to pay their men in slaves. Mohammed had never
been fortunate in his domestic affairs; he was not a favourite of the
ladies; thus his female slaves had all run away; his fortune had walked
off, and he was left a beggar, with an overdrawn account in slaves.
Mohammed had never been a good English scholar, but want of practice
during many years had almost obscured the light of his former learning,
which was reduced to the faintest glimmer.
The bugles now sounded the "advance," and we marched forward in
admirable order, with the band playing.
In the meantime, several natives had approached, and having recognized
Lady Baker and myself, they immediately raced back to the village with
the news.
My men looked remarkably well, and the advance into Fatiko was a sight
that was entirely new to Central Africa. We were in magnificent order
for work, with a hardy disciplined force of 212 men, and a stock of
cattle and merchandise that would carry us to any direction I might
desire.
This arrival, in such perfect organization, was a fatal blow to the
hopes and intrigues of Abou Saood. I was actually among them, in the
very nest and hotbed of the slavers, in spite of every difficulty.
Abou Saood came to meet me, with his usual humble appearance, as we
neared his station; and he cringingly invited us to rest in some huts
that had just been prepared for our reception.
I declined the invitation, and prepared to camp beneath some grand
acacias, among the granite rocks, about a quarter of a mile beyond,
where I had rested some years ago. I accordingly led the way, until we
arrived at a very beautiful spot, among some immense granite blocks,
shaded by the desired foliage. Here the word was given "Halt!" and the
tent was quickly pitched in a favourable locality.
We were now distant from the junction of the Un-y-Ame river 48 miles,
from Lobore 85 miles, and from Gondokoro 165 miles.
Abou Saood ordered his people to bring a number of straw-roofs from his
station, to form a protection for the officers. The men quickly housed
themselves in temporary huts, and the cattle were placed for the night
in a regular amphitheatre of rock, which formed an excellent position.
On 8th March, I reviewed the troops, and having given the natives
warning of my intention, I had a sham-fight and attack of the Fatiko
mountain. Having fired several rockets at a supposed enemy, the troops
advanced in two companies to the north and south extremities of the
mountain, which they scaled with great activity, and joined their forces
on the clean plateau of granite on the summit of the ridge. The effect
was very good, and appeared to delight the natives, who had assembled in
considerable numbers. After firing several volleys, the troops descended
the hill, and marched back, with the band playing.
The music of our band being produced simply by a considerable number of
bugles, drums, and cymbals, aided by a large military bass-drum, might
not have been thought first-rate in Europe, but in Africa it was
irresistible.
The natives are passionately fond of music; and I believe the safest way
to travel in those wild countries would be to play the cornet, if
possible without ceasing, which would insure a safe passage. A London
organ-grinder would march through Central Africa followed by an admiring
and enthusiastic crowd, who, if his tunes were lively, would form a
dancing escort of the most untiring material.
As my troops returned to their quarters, with the band playing rather
cheerful airs, we observed the women racing down from their villages,
and gathering from all directions towards the common centre. As they
approached nearer, the charms of music were overpowering, and, halting
for an instant, they assumed what they considered the most graceful
attitudes, and then danced up to the band.
In a short time my buglers could hardly blow their instruments for
laughing, at the extraordinary effect of their performance. A fantastic
crowd surrounded them as they halted in our position among the rocks;
and every minute added to their number.
The women throughout the Shooli are entirely naked, thus the effect of a
female crowd, bounding madly about as musical enthusiasts, was very
extraordinary. Even the babies were brought out to dance, and these
infants, strapped to their mothers' backs, and covered with pumpkin
shells, like young tortoises, were jolted about without the slightest
consideration for the weakness of their necks, by their infatuated
mothers.
As usual, among all tribes in Central Africa, the old women were even
more determined dancers than the young girls.
