We had neither guide, nor interpreter. Not one native was procurable,
all being under the influence of the traders, who had determined to
render our advance utterly impossible by preventing the natives from
assisting us. All had been threatened, and we, perfectly helpless,
commenced the desperate journey in darkness about an hour after sunset.
"Where shall we go?" said the men, just as the order was given to start.
"Who can travel without a guide? No one knows the road." The moon was
up, and the mountain of Belignan was distinctly visible about nine miles
distant. Knowing that the route lay on the east side of that mountain, I
led the way, Mrs. Baker riding by my side, and the British flag
following close behind us as a guide for the caravan of heavily laden
camels and donkeys. We shook hands warmly with Dr. Murie, who had come
to see us off, and thus we started on our march in Central Africa on the
26th of March, 1863.
CHAPTER IV.
FIRST NIGHT'S MARCH.
THE country was park-like, but much parched by the dry weather. The
ground was sandy, but firm, and interspersed with numerous villages, all
of which were surrounded with a strong fence of euphorbia. The country
was well wooded, being free from bush or jungle, but numerous trees, all
evergreens, were scattered over the landscape. No natives were to be
seen, but the sound of their drums and singing in chorus was heard in
the far distance. Whenever it is moonlight the nights are passed in
singing and dancing, beating drums, blowing horns, and the population of
whole villages thus congregate together.
After a silent march of two hours we saw watch-fires blazing in the
distance, and upon nearer approach we perceived the trader's party
bivouacked. Their custom is to march only two or three hours on the
first day of departure, to allow stragglers who may have lagged behind
in Gondokoro to rejoin the party before morning.
We were roughly challenged by their sentries as we passed, and were
instantly told "not to remain in their neighbourhood." Accordingly we
passed on for about half a mile in advance, and bivouacked on some
rising ground above a slight hollow in which we found water. All were
busy collecting firewood and cutting grass for the donkeys and horses
who were picketed near the fires. The camels were hobbled, and turned to
graze upon the branches of a large mimosa. We were not hungry; the
constant anxiety had entirely destroyed all appetite. A cup of strong
black coffee was the greatest luxury, and not requiring a tent in the
clear still night, we were soon asleep on our simple angareps.
