This was placed upon the flat gravel approach in front of the
government divan, and through the powerful glass we could distinguish
each feature, and the expression of every individual countenance of the
crowd within the village.
During the day, messengers arrived from Kabba Rega with an official
explanation of the misunderstanding. They declared that it was entirely
the fault of Matonse, who would be soon captured; that Kabba Rega
desired them to express his deep regret; "Was he not my son? Did he not
depend upon the protection of his father?" He only begged for peace. The
natives had been killed in great numbers; therefore "if we had lost a
few soldiers, the Unyoro had lost many - so the affair was settled."
I told them that nothing could ever compensate for the loss of Monsoor,
who had been so treacherously killed; at the same time, if Kabba Rega
could prove that the guilt really lay with Matonse, the simple plan
would be to deliver him up to me.
I recalled to their recollection how I had passed ten months in Unyoro
in the reign of Kamrasi, at which time I had only an escort of thirteen
men, and no misunderstanding had ever occurred. I explained that the
fault was not on my side. An attempt had been made to poison us
collectively; we had then been surprised by a thoroughly organized
attack, at a time when the troops were supposed to have been disabled by
the poison.
Kabba Rega must clear his character. If he were innocent, I should be
only too happy.
The matongale, or sheik, who was the principal messenger, assured me
that Kabba Rega was quite in despair, and that he had given orders for
provisions and a large quantity of ivory to be collected, which would be
sent to us on the day following, in charge of Rahonka and Kittakara.
The want of provisions was sorely felt; fortunately, as our cows had
been dying daily, the troops had some sweet potatoes that had been
purchased in exchange for flesh. These would last for a few days.
A short time before the attack, I had promised to send Kabba Rega a
porcelain cache-pot. I therefore took the opportunity of reminding the
sheik of my promise, and I begged him to deliver the piece of china to
Kabba Rega as a proof of my peaceful intentions, should he really be
innocent of the treachery.
The handsome present was wrapped up in red Turkey cloth, and the
messengers departed.
I watched them through the telescope, and, upon their arrival at the
village below us, I distinctly witnessed, not only their reception by
the expectant crowd, but the cache-pot was unpacked and held at arm's
length above the head, to be exhibited to the admiring people.
This looked well. My officers began to believe in peace; and, although
I still had strong suspicions, I hoped that the signal defeat which
Kabba Rega's army had sustained had so far cowed them as to induce a
termination of hostilities, that would enable me to communicate with
Major Abdullah.
The luggage from the government divan had all been carried to the fort.
This was now returned to our original quarters; my wife and her black
maids were working hard at rearranging the rooms.
The night passed quietly.
On 10th of June a matongale and several natives arrived from Kabba Rega,
with a most polite message and friendly assurances, accompanied by a
present of two beautiful white cows.
The messengers corroborated the statement of the preceding day, that
large quantities of provisions were being prepared for us, together with
twenty elephants' tusks, which were to be delivered as a peace-offering
by Rahonka and Kittakara in person.
Affairs looked brighter. It was my best policy to secure peace if
possible.
I determined to send Kabba Rega, in return for his present of cows, the
large Geneva musical box, with drums and bells, which he had always
desired.
No one knew how to wind it up; and it was necessary that some person
should accompany it with the native messengers.
The clerk of the detachment, Ramadan, who has already been mentioned as
a favourite with the natives, and a good linguist, at once volunteered
to be the bearer of the present. Since the battle of Masindi, Ramadan
had been in frequent personal communication with the natives, and he
assured me that there was a general desire for peaceful relations. He
was supposed to be a favourite of Kabba Rega's, and it was therefore
arranged that he should accompany the musical box, which was a good load
for a fast-travelling native.
Hafiz, the farrier, whose occupation was nearly gone by the death of all
the horses but two, volunteered to accompany Ramadan. I ordered them to
go unarmed, as their peaceful mission would be at once understood; this
fact would establish confidence among the natives.
It was about 3 P.M. when they started, and we watched their arrival in
the village with the telescope, where they appeared to be well received.
In the evening they both returned with the musical box, accompanied by
the sheik who was to be their guide, as Kabba Rega had retired to a town
at which he had a residence, about half a day's march distant. It was
arranged that they should start on the following morning.
On the 11th June, Ramadan and Hafiz, together with the musical box,
started, and we watched their reception at the village with the
telescope. I had released Umbogo, whom I had sent to Kabba Rega to
explain all that he had seen of the outbreak, as he was one of those
that had been poisoned by the plaintain cider. Umbogo promised to return
as soon as possible.
