The graves were made. I gave out new cloth from the stores in which to
wrap the bodies of four of my best men, and they were buried near the
fort.
My heart was very heavy. God knows I had worked with the best intentions
for the benefit of the country, and this was the lamentable result. My
best men were treacherously murdered. We had narrowly escaped a general
massacre. We had won the battle, and Masindi was swept from the earth.
What next?
I find these words, which I extract from my journal, as they were
written at that moment:-
"Thus ended the battle of Masindi, caused by the horrible treachery of
the natives. Had I not been quick in sounding the bugle and immediately
assuming a vigorous offensive, we should have been overwhelmed by
numbers.
"Since we have been in this country, my men have been models of virtue;
nothing has been stolen, except a few potatoes on one occasion, when the
thief was publicly punished, and the potatoes restored to the owner,
neither have the natives been interfered with in any manner. I have
driven the slave-hunters from their country, and my troops from Fatiko
are ordered to restore to Unyoro all the slaves that have been stolen by
the traders. The disgusting ingratitude and treachery of the negro
surpasses imagination.
"What is to become of these countries? all my good-will brings forth
evil deeds."
In the battle of Masindi nothing could have exceeded the cool,
soldier-like bearing of both officers and men.
