Fortunately, in our journey from the
river to Masindi, I had timed every march within five minutes, and I had
all particulars in my note-book; therefore I could guess the position
pretty closely during the morning's advance.
Having mustered all the men, I turned out all the ammunition from their
pouches. The cartridges were counted.
I examined all the reserve ammunition.
The total, including that from the men's cartouche-boxes, was cartridges
for snider rifles 4,540 and cartridges for muskets 4,330, making a total
of 8,870 rounds.
I now addressed the men, and abused them most forcibly, calling them
"old women," and several other uncomplimentary epithets for soldiers. I
divided among them forty rounds each, and I swore solemnly by their
prophet, "that I would not give them another cartridge from this spot
(Chorobeze) until we should reach Major Abdullah's detachment at
Fatiko."
I explained that if any man should fire away his ammunition, he should
continue the march with an empty pouch - Wah Illahi! Illahi !
I gave the most positive command, that in future not a shot should be
fired without orders, unless spears actually were thrown; on which
occasions the troops would fire a few shots exactly into the spot from
which the weapons had arrived; but on no account was a bullet to be
fired at random.
