The bullets whizzed so thickly about him that he descended from his
post, and then, being alarmed lest he might be killed by the natives
should his mission be discovered, he had run away as fast as possible,
and returned 160 miles to Fatiko. Thus I never received Major Abdullah's
letter.
The letter-carrier having seen our handful of men surrounded by many
thousands of the enemy in Masindi, and knowing that the perfect
organization of Unyoro would bring countless enemies upon us, who would
occupy the routes by ambuscades, had considered our position hopeless.
The report was spread "that we were all destroyed:" thus Abou Saood was
delighted.
Some days later, my party arrived at Fatiko that had left Masindi on the
23rd May with the post, together with the prisoner Suleiman.
These people had suffered terribly, and had lost eleven men killed,
exclusive of one who had died on the way from fatigue.
The treacherous plan arranged by Kabba Rega had failed, and the natives
had attacked them before the time appointed. This will be described
hereafter.
Suleiman was no longer a prisoner, but he commanded the Fabbo station
for Abou Saood.
Wat-el-Mek had received my letter, and he wished to serve the
government; but Abou Saood had prevented him; and now that I was
supposed to be dead, it would be impossible.
This man, Wat-el-Mek, had nevertheless behaved well, as he had
immediately demanded 100 men from Abou Saood, and fifty men from
Abdullah, in order to march to Unyoro, join Rionga, and with a native
army he would have searched for us throughout the country.
Abou Saood had refused to give the 100 men, therefore we had been left
to our fate.
The result of the story was that I must hurry on to Fatiko; Rot Jarma
had sent his messengers to discover me whether dead or alive, and should
I not march quickly, Abdullah might be attacked and overpowered, and the
slave-hunters would possess themselves of all the ammunition and stores.
. . . This was not very refreshing news, after all the troubles we had
gone through.
Had I received this important intelligence during my stay with Rionga, I
should not have left Colonel Abd-el-Kader with sixty men behind me. It
would not do to waste time by halting: and should I send to recall
Abd-el-Kader immediately after my departure, the effect upon Rionga
would create suspicion. The withdrawal of the troops would destroy all
confidence on the part of his native allies.
I gave the order to march forward at once.
My horse, Jamoos, now the only survivor of all those that I brought from
Cairo, was in good condition, but he suffered from a woeful sore back,
occasioned by the heavy load that he had carried from Masindi. My wife
was therefore obliged to walk, as the mud was too deep for the solitary
donkey, who was weak and ill.
For more than a mile and a half we had to wade through flooded marshes
nearly hip deep; the heavy rains had made the country boggy and
unpleasant.
We had one sheep for the journey of seventy-nine miles, but this was
missing upon the second day's march, and we subsequently discovered that
it had been stolen and eaten by our guide and the carriers supplied by
Rionga. We were thus reduced to dried fish in the place of our lost
mutton, for which we felt inclined to go into mourning.
Although we had been badly fed of late, and for twenty-three days had
been without solid animal food (since the march from Masindi), we were
nevertheless in excellent health; and always hungry.
We marched well through the uninhabited wilderness of forest, high
grass, and swamps, and arrived at the village of Sharga, ten miles from
Fatiko, on August 1st, 1872.
The people had collected in considerable numbers to receive us, and we
were presented with a fat ox for the troops, thirteen large jars of
merissa, and a very plump sheep for ourselves.
The soldiers were delighted, poor fellows; and we likewise looked
forward with no small pleasure to a good stew.
Numerous sheiks had collected to receive us, and a formal complaint and
protest was made against Abou Saood and his people.
An attack had been planned by the slavers, and Abdullah and his small
detachment of 100 men would be overpowered. They were already
disheartened, as they believed that we were dead, and they had been
daily taunted with this fact by the brigands, who asked them, "what they
were going to do now that the Pacha was killed."
Abou Saood, having given his orders to Wat-el-Mek, and to the ruffian
Ali Hussein, had withdrawn to the station of Fabbo, twenty-two miles
west of Fatiko, to which place he had carried all the ivory. He was not
fond of fighting, PERSONALLY.
The natives corroborated the information I had received from Rot Jarma's
messengers. They declared that not only had women and children been
carried off, but that the slave-hunters under Ali Hussein had cut the
throats of many of their women before their eyes, and had dashed the
brains of the young children upon the rocks in derision of my power;
saying, "Now see if the Nuzzerani (Christian) can protect you!"
They declared that Wat-el-Mek really wished to join the government, but
that when he got drunk, both Abou Saood and others could induce him to
behave badly.
There were several hundred people present at this meeting; and the
sheiks wound up in a cool and temperate manner, by advising me "not to
judge from what they had told me, but simply to march early on the
following morning to Fatiko, and to receive the report direct from my
own commandant, Major Abdullah.
