The Albert N'Yanza Part 21

On the following morning we started, the route as before parallel to the river, and so close that the roar of the rapids was extremely loud. The river flowed in a deep ravine upon our left. We continued for a day's march along the Somerset, crossing many ravines and torrents, until we turned suddenly down to the left, and arriving at the bank we were to be transported to an island called Patooan, that was the residence of a chief. It was about an hour after sunset, and being dark, my riding ox, who was being driven as too weak to carry me, fell into an elephant pitfall. After much hallooing, a canoe was brought from the island, which was not more than fifty yards from the mainland, and we were ferried across. We were both very ill with a sudden attack of fever; and my wife, not being able to stand, was, on arrival at the island, carried on a litter I knew not whither, escorted by some of my men, while I lay down on the wet ground quite exhausted with the annihilating disease. At length the remainder of my men crossed over, and those who had carried my wife to the village returning with firebrands, I managed to creep after them with the aid of a long stick, upon which I rested with both hands. After a walk, through a forest of high trees, for about a quarter of a mile, I arrived at a village where I was shown a wretched hut, the stars being visible through the roof. In this my wife lay dreadfully ill upon her angarep, and I fell down upon some straw. About an hour later, a violent thunderstorm broke over us, and our hut was perfectly flooded; we, being far too ill and helpless to move from our positions, remained dripping wet and shivering with fever until the morning. Our servants and people had, like all natives, made themselves much more comfortable than their employers; nor did they attempt to interfere with our misery in any way until summoned to appear at sunrise.

The island of Patooan was about half a mile long by 150 yards wide, and was one of the numerous ma.s.ses of rocks that choke the river between Karuma Falls and the great Murchison cataract. The rock was entirely of grey granite, from the clefts of which beautiful forest trees grew so thickly that the entire island was in shade. In the middle of this secluded spot was a considerable village, thickly inhabited, as the population of the mainland had fled from their dwellings and had taken refuge upon the numerous river islands, as the war was raging between Rionga and Kamrasi. A succession of islands from the east of Patooan continued to within a march of Karuma Falls. These were in the possession of Rionga, and a still more powerful chief and ally, Fowooka, who were the deadly enemies of Kamrasi.

It now appeared that after my departure from M'rooli to search for the lake, Ibrahim had been instructed by Kamrasi to accompany his army, and attack Fowooka. This had been effected, but the attack had been confined to a bombardment by musketry from the high cliffs of the river upon the people confined upon one of the islands. A number of men had been killed, and Ibrahim had returned to Gondokoro with a quant.i.ty of ivory and porters supplied by Kamrasi; but he had left ten of his armed men as hostages with the king, to act as his guard until he should return on the following year to Unyoro. Ibrahim and his strong party having quitted the country, Fowooka had invaded the mainland of Chopi, and had burnt and destroyed all the villages, and killed many people, including a powerful chief of Kamrasi's, the father of the headman of the island of Patooan where we were now staying. Accordingly the fugitives from the destroyed villages had taken refuge upon the island of Patooan, and others of the same character. The headman informed us that it would be impossible to proceed along the bank of the river to Karuma, as that entire line of country was in possession of the enemy. This was sufficient to a.s.sure me that I should not procure porters.

There was no end to the difficulties and trouble in this horrible country. My exploration was completed, as it was by no means necessary to continue the route from Patooan to Karuma. I had followed the Somerset from its junction with the lake at Magungo to this point; here it was a beautiful river, precisely similar in character to the point at which I had left it at Karuma: we were now within thirty miles of that place, and about eighteen miles from the point opposite Rionga's island, where we had first hit upon the river on our arrival from the north. The direction was perfectly in accordance with my observations at Karuma, and at Magungo, the Somerset running from east to west. The river was about 180 to 200 yards in width, but much obstructed with rocks and islands; the stream ran at about four miles per hour, and the rapids and falls were so numerous that the roar of water had been continuous throughout our march from Murchison Falls. By observations of Casella's thermometer I made the alt.i.tude of the river level at the island of Patooan 3,195 feet; thus from this point to the level of the Albert lake at Magungo there was a fall of 475 feet--this difference being included between Patooan and the foot of Murchison Falls: the latter, being at the lowest estimate 120 feet, left 355 feet to be accounted for between Patooan and the top of the falls. As the ledges of rock throughout the course of the river formed a series of steps, this was a natural difference in alt.i.tude that suggested the correctness of the observations.

At the river level below Karuma Falls I had measured the alt.i.tude at 3,996 feet above the sea level. Thus, there was a fall from that point to Patooan of 801 feet, and a total of 1,276 feet in the descent of the river from Karuma to the Albert N'yanza. These measurements, most carefully taken, corroborated the opinion suggested by the natural appearance of the river, which was a mere succession of cataracts throughout its westerly course from Karuma.

To me these observations were more than usually interesting, as when I had met my friend Speke at Gondokoro he was much perplexed concerning the extraordinary difference in his observation between the alt.i.tude of the river level at Karuma Falls, lat. 2 degrees 15', and at Gebel Kookoo in the Madi country, lat. 3 degrees 34', the point at which he subsequently met the river. He KNEW that both rivers were the Nile, as he bad been told this by the natives; the one, before it had joined the Albert lake--the other, after its exit; but he had been told that the river was NAVIGABLE from Gebel Kookoo, lat. 3 degrees 34', straight up to the junction of the lake; thus, there could be no great difference in alt.i.tude between the lake and the Nile where he met it, in lat. 3 degrees 34'. Nevertheless, he found so enormous a difference in his observations between the river at Karuma and at Gebel Kookoo, that he concluded there must be a fall between Karuma and the Albert lake of at least 1,000 feet; by careful measurements I proved the closeness of his reasoning and observation, by finding a fall of only 275 feet more than he had antic.i.p.ated. From Karuma to the Albert lake (although unvisited by Speke), he had marked upon his map, "river falls 1,000 feet;" by actual measurement I proved it to be 1,275 feet.

The alt.i.tudes measured by me have been examined, and the thermometer that I used had been tested at Kew, and its errors corrected since my return to England; thus all alt.i.tudes observed with that thermometer should be correct, as the results, after correction by Mr. Dunkin, of the Greenwich Royal Observatory, are those now quoted. It will therefore be interesting to compare the observations taken at the various points on the Nile and Albert lake in the countries of Unyoro and Chopi--the correctness of which relatively will be seen by comparison:--

1861.

Jan. 22. Rionga's island, 80 feet above the Nile . . . 3,864 Jan. 25. Karuma, below the falls, river level Atadaj. . 3,996 Jan. 31. South of Karuma, river level on road to M'rooli 4,056

1864.

Feb. 21. M'rooli lat. 1 degree 38' river level . . . . . . 4,061Ft.

Mar. 14. Albert N'yanza, lake level . . . . . . . . . . . 2,720Ft.

April 7. Island of Patooan (Shooa Moru) river level. . . . 3,195Ft.

By these observations it will be seen that from M'rooli, in lat. 1 degree 38' to Karuma in lat. 2 degree 15', there is a fall of sixty- five feet; say MINUS five feet, for the Karuma Falls equals sixty feet fall in 37' of lat.i.tude; or allowing for the great bend of the river, twenty miles of extra course, it will be equal to about sixty statute miles of actual river from M'rooli to Atada or Karuma Falls, showing a fall or one foot per mile. From M'rooli to the head of the Karuma Falls the river is navigable; thus the observations of alt.i.tudes showing a fall of one foot per mile must be extremely accurate.

The next observations to be compared are those from Karuma Falls throughout the westerly course of the river to the Albert lake:--

River level below Karuma Falls . . . . . . . . 3,996 feet Rionga's island 3,864--80 feet cliff . . . . . 3,784 = 212 fall. to the west.

River level at island of Patooan (Shooa Moru). 3,195 = 589 fall. from Rionga's island.

Level of Albert lake . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2,720 = 475 fall. from Patooan to lake.

From Karuma . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1,276 fall.

These observations were extremely satisfactory, and showed that the thermometer (Casella's) behaved well at every boiling, as there was no confusion of alt.i.tudes, but each observation corroborated the preceding.

The lat.i.tude of the island of Patooan by observation was 2 degrees 16': we were thus due west of Magungo, and east of Karuma Falls.

CHAPTER XIII.

TREACHEROUS DESIGNS OF THE NATIVES.

We were prisoners on the island of Patooan, as we could not procure porters at any price to remove our effects. We had lost all our riding oxen within a few days; they had succ.u.mbed to the flies, and the only animal alive was already half dead; this was the little bull that had always carried the boy Saat. It was the 8th April, and within a few days the boats upon which we depended for our return to civilization would a.s.suredly quit Gondokoro. I offered the natives all the beads that I had (about 50 lbs.) and the whole of my baggage, if they would carry us to Shooa direct from this spot. We were in perfect despair, as we were both completely worn out with fever and fatigue, and certain death seemed to stare us in the face should we remain in this unhealthy spot; worse than death was the idea of losing the boats and becoming prisoners for another year in this dreadful land; which must inevitably happen should we not hurry direct to Gondokoro without delay. The natives, with their usual cunning, at length offered to convey us to Shooa, provided that I paid them the beads in advance; the boats were prepared to ferry us across the river, but I fortunately discovered through the woman Bacheeta their treacherous intention of placing us on the uninhabited wilderness on the north side, and leaving us to die of hunger. They had conspired together to land us, but to immediately return with the boats after having thus got rid of the incubus of their guests.

We were in a great dilemma--had we been in good health, I would have forsaken everything but the guns and ammunition, and have marched direct to Gondokoro on foot: but this was utterly impossible; neither my wife nor I could walk a quarter of a mile without fainting--there was no guide--and the country was now overgrown with impenetrable gra.s.s and tangled vegetation eight feet high;--we were in the midst of the rainy season--not a day pa.s.sed without a few hours of deluge;--altogether it was a most heartbreaking position. Added to the distress of mind at being thus thwarted, there was also a great scarcity of provision. Many of my men were weak, the whole party having suffered much from fever-- in fact, we were completely helpless.

Our guide Rabonga, who had accompanied us from M'rooli, had absconded, and we were left to shift for ourselves. I was determined not to remain on the island, as I suspected that the boats might be taken away, and that we should be kept prisoners; I therefore ordered my men to take the canoes, and to ferry us to the mainland, from whence we had come. The headman, upon hearing this order, offered to carry us to a village, and then to await orders from Kamrasi as to whether we were to be forwarded to Shooa or not. The district in which the island of Patooan was situated was called Shooa Moru, although having no connexion with the Shooa in the Madi country to which we were bound.

We were ferried across to the main sh.o.r.e, and both in our respective angareps were carried by the natives for about three miles: arriving at a deserted village, half of which was in ashes, having been burnt and plundered by the enemy, we were deposited on the ground in front of an old hut in the pouring rain, and were informed that we should remain there that night, but that on the following morning we should proceed to our destination.

Not trusting the natives, I ordered my men to disarm them, and to retain their spears and shields as security for their appearance on the following day. This effected, we were carried into a filthy hut about six inches deep in mud, as the roof was much out of repair, and the heavy rain had flooded it daily for some weeks. I had a ca.n.a.l cut through the muddy floor, and in misery and low spirits we took possession.

On the following morning not a native was present! We had been entirely deserted; although I held the spears and shields, every man had absconded--there were neither inhabitants nor provisions--the whole country was a wilderness of rank gra.s.s that hemmed us in on all sides; not an animal, nor even a bird, was to be seen; it was a miserable, damp, lifeless country. We were on elevated ground, and the valley of the Somerset was about two miles to our north, the river roaring sullenly in its obstructed pa.s.sage, its course marked by the double belt of huge dark trees that grew upon its banks.

My men were naturally outrageous, and they proposed that we should return to Patooan, seize the canoes, and take provisions by force, as we had been disgracefully deceived. The natives had merely deposited us here to get us out of the way, and in this spot we might starve. Of course I would not countenance the proposal of seizing provisions, but I directed my men to search among the ruined villages for buried corn, in company with the woman Bacheeta, who, being a native of this country, would be up to the ways of the people, and might a.s.sist in the discovery.

After some hours pa.s.sed in rambling over the black ashes of several villages that had been burnt, they discovered a hollow place, by sounding the earth with a stick, and, upon digging, they arrived at a granary of the seed known as "tullaboon;" this was a great prize, as, although mouldy and bitter, it would keep us from starving. The women of the party were soon hard at work grinding, as many of the necessary stones had been found among the ruins.

Fortunately there were three varieties of plants growing wild in great profusion, that, when boiled, were a good subst.i.tute for spinach; thus we were rich in vegetables, although without a morsel of fat or animal food. Our dinner consisted daily of a mess of black porridge of bitter mouldy flour, that no English pig would condescend to notice, and a large dish of spinach. "Better a dinner of herbs where love is," &c.

often occurred to me; but I am not sure that I was quite of that opinion after a fortnight's grazing upon spinach.

Tea and coffee were things of the past, the very idea of which made our mouths water; but I found a species of wild thyme growing in the jungles, and this, when boiled, formed a tolerable subst.i.tute for tea; sometimes our men procured a little wild honey, which, added to the thyme tea, we considered a great luxury.

This wretched fare, in our exhausted state from fever and general effects of climate, so completely disabled us, that for nearly two months my wife lay helpless on one angarep, and I upon the other; neither of us could walk. The hut was like all in Kamrasi's country, a perfect forest of thick poles to support the roof (I counted thirty-two); thus, although it was tolerably large, there was but little accommodation. These poles we now found very convenient, as we were so weak, that we could not rise from bed without hauling by one of the supports.

We were very nearly dead, and our amus.e.m.e.nt was a childish conversation about the good things in England, and my idea of perfect happiness was an English beefsteak and a bottle of pale ale; for such a luxury I would most willingly have sold my birthright at that hungry moment. We were perfect skeletons; and it was annoying to see how we suffered upon the bad fare, while our men apparently throve. There were plenty of wild red peppers, and the men seemed to enjoy a mixture of porridge and legumes a la sauce piquante. They were astonished at my falling away on this food, but they yielded to my argument when I suggested that a "lion would starve where a donkey grew fat." I must confess that this state of existence did not improve my temper, which, I fear, became nearly as bitter as the porridge. My people had a windfall of luck, as Saat's ox, that had lingered for a long time, lay down to die, and stretching himself out, commenced kicking his last kick; the men immediately a.s.sisted him by cutting his throat, and this supply of beef was a luxury which, even in my hungry state, was not the English beefsteak for which I sighed; and I declined the diseased bull.

The men made several long excursions through the country to endeavour to purchase provisions, but in two months they procured only two kids; the entire country was deserted, owing to the war between Kamrasi and Fowooka. Every day the boy Saat and the woman Bacheeta sallied out and conversed with the inhabitants of the different islands on the river; sometimes, but very rarely, they returned with a fowl; such an event caused great rejoicing.

We had now given up all hope of Gondokoro, and were perfectly resigned to our fate; this, we felt sure, was to be buried in Chopi. I wrote instructions in my journal, in case of death, and told my headman to be sure to deliver my maps, observations, and papers to the English Consul at Khartoum; this was my only care, as I feared that all my labour might be lost should I die. I had no fear for my wife, as she was quite as bad as I, and if one should die, the other would certainly follow; in fact, this had been agreed upon, lest she should fall into the hands of Kamrasi at my death. We had struggled to win, and I thanked G.o.d that we had won; if death were to be the price, at all events we were at the goal, and we both looked upon death rather as a pleasure, as affording rest; there would be no more suffering; no fever; no long journey before us, that in our weak state was an infliction; the only wish was to lay down the burden.

Curious is the warfare between the animal instincts and the mind! Death would have been a release that I would have courted, but I should have liked that one "English beefsteak and pale ale" before I died! During our misery of constant fever and starvation at Shooa Moru, insult had been added to injury. There was no doubt that we had been thus deserted by Kamrasi's orders, as every seven or eight days one of his chiefs arrived, and told me that the king was with his army only four days'

march from me, and that he was preparing to attack Fowooka, but that he wished me to join him, as with my fourteen guns we should win a great victory. This treacherous conduct, after his promise to forward me without delay to Shooa, enraged me exceedingly. We had lost the boats at Gondokoro, and we were now nailed to the country for another year, should we live, which was not likely; not only had the brutal king thus deceived us, but he was deliberately starving us into conditions, his aim being that my men should a.s.sist him against his enemy. At one time the old enemy tempted me sorely to join Fowooka against Kamrasi; but, discarding the idea, generated in a moment of pa.s.sion, I determined to resist his proposals to the last. It was perfectly true that the king was within thirty miles of us, that he was aware of our misery; and he made use of our extremity to force us to become his allies.

After more than two months pa.s.sed in this distress it became evident that something must be done; I sent my headman, or vakeel, and one man, with a native as a guide (that Saat and Bacheeta had procured from an island), with instructions to go direct to Kamrasi, to abuse him thoroughly in my name for having thus treated us, and tell him that I was much insulted at his treating with me through a third party in proposing an alliance. My vakeel was to explain that I was a much more powerful chief than Kamrasi, and that if he required my alliance, he must treat with me in person, and immediately send fifty men to transport my wife, myself, and effects to his camp, where we might, in a personal interview, come to terms. I told my vakeel to return to me with the fifty men, and to be sure to bring from Kamrasi some token by which I should know that he had actually seen him. The vakeel and Yaseen started.

After some days, the absconded guide, Rabonga, appeared with a number of men, but without either my vakeel or Yaseen. He carried with him a small gourd bottle, carefully stopped; this he broke, and extracted from the inside two pieces of printed paper, that Kamrasi had sent to me in reply.

On examining the papers, I found them to be portions of the English Church Service translated into (I think) the Kiswahili language, by Dr.

Krapf! There were many notes in pencil on the margin, written in English, as translations of words in the text. It quickly occurred to me that Speke must have given this book to Kamrasi on his arrival from Zanzibar, and that he now extracted the leaves, and sent them to me as the token I had demanded to show that my message had been delivered to him. Rabonga made a lame excuse for his previous desertion; he delivered a thin ox that Kamrasi had sent me, and he declared that his orders were, that he should take my whole party immediately to Kamrasi, as he was anxious that we should attack Fowooka without loss of time; we were positively to start on the following morning! My bait had taken! and we should escape from this frightful spot, Shooa Moru.

On the following morning we were carried in our litters by a number of men. The ox had been killed, the whole party had revelled in good food, and a supply sufficient for the journey was taken by my men.

Without inflicting the tedium of the journey upon the reader, it will be sufficient to say that the country was the same as usual, being a vast park overgrown with immense gra.s.s. Every day the porters bolted, and we were left deserted at the charred ruins of various villages that had been plundered by Fowooka's people. It poured with rain; there was no cover, as all the huts had been burnt, and we were stricken with severe fever daily. However, after five days of absurdly slow marching, the roar of the rapids being distinctly audible at night, we arrived one morning at a deserted camp of about 3,000 huts, which were just being ignited by several natives. This had been Kamrasi's headquarters, which he had quitted, and according to native custom it was to be destroyed by fire. It was reported that the king had removed to another position within an hour's march, and that he had constructed a new camp. Although throughout the journey from Shooa Moru the country had been excessively wild and uncultivated, this neighbourhood was a ma.s.s of extensive plantain groves and burnt villages, but every plantain tree had been cut through the middle and recklessly destroyed. This destruction had been perpetrated by Fowooka's people, who had invaded the country, but had retreated on the advance of Kamrasi's army.

After winding through dense jungles of bamboos and interminable groves of destroyed plantains, we perceived the tops of a number of gra.s.s huts appearing among the trees. My men now begged to be allowed to fire a salute, as it was reported that the ten men of Ibrahim's party who had been left as hostages were quartered at this village with Kamrasi.

Hardly had the firing commenced, when it was immediately replied to by the Turks from their camp, who, upon our approach, came out to meet us with great manifestations of delight and wonder at our having accomplished our long and difficult voyage.

My vakeel and Yaseen were the first to meet us, with an apology that severe fever had compelled them to remain in camp instead of returning to Shooa Moru according to my orders, but they had delivered my message to Kamrasi, who had, as I had supposed, sent two leaves out of a book Speke had given him, as a reply. An immense amount of news had to be exchanged between my men and those of Ibrahim; they had quite given us up for lost, until they heard that we were at Shooa Moru. A report had reached them that my wife was dead, and that I had died a few days later. A great amount of kissing and embracing took place, Arab fashion, between the two parties; and they all came to kiss my hand and that of my wife, with the exclamation, that "By Allah, no woman in the world had a heart so tough as to dare to face what she had gone through." "El hamd el Illah! El hamd el Illah bel salaam!" ("Thank G.o.d--be grateful to G.o.d"), was exclaimed on all sides by the swarthy throng of brigands who pressed round us, really glad to welcome us back again; and I could not help thinking of the difference in their manner now and fourteen months ago, when they had attempted to drive us back from Gondokoro.

On entering the village I found a hut prepared for me by the orders of my vakeel: it was very small, and I immediately ordered a fence and courtyard to be constructed. There were great numbers of natives, and a crowd of noisy fellows pressed around us that were only dispersed by a liberal allowance of the stick, well laid on by the Turks, who were not quite so mild in their ways as my people. A fat ox was immediately slaughtered by the vakeel commanding the Turks' party, and a great feast was soon in preparation, as our people were determined to fraternize.

Hardly were we seated in our hut, when my vakeel announced that Kamrasi had arrived to pay me a visit. In a few minutes he was ushered into the hut. Far from being abashed, he entered with a loud laugh totally different to his former dignified manner." Well, here you are at last!"

he exclaimed. Apparently highly amused with our wretched appearance, he continued, "So you have been to the M'wootan N'zige! well, you don't look much the better for it; why, I should not have known you! ha, ha, ha!" I was not in a humour to enjoy his attempts at facetiousness; I therefore told him, that he had behaved disgracefully and meanly, and that I should publish his character among the adjoining tribes as below that of the most petty chief that I had ever seen. "Never mind," he replied, "it's all over now; you really are thin, both of you;--it was your own fault; why did you not agree to fight Fowooka? You should have been supplied with fat cows and milk and b.u.t.ter, had you behaved well. I will have my men ready to attack Fowooka tomorrow;--the Turks have ten men; you have thirteen; thirteen and ten make twenty-three;--you shall be carried if you can't walk, and we will give Fowooka no chance--he must be killed--only kill him, and MY BROTHER will give you half of his kingdom." He continued, "You shall have supplies tomorrow; I will go to my brother, who is the great M'Kammaa Kamrasi, and he will send you all you require. I am a little man, he is a big one; I have nothing; he has everything, and he longs to see you; you must go to him directly, he lives close by." I hardly knew whether he was drunk or sober--"my brother the great M'Kamma Kamrasi!" I felt bewildered with astonishment: then, "If you are not Kamrasi, pray who are you ?" I asked. "Who am I?"

he replied, "ha, ha, ha! that's very good; who am I?--why I am M'Gambi, the brother of Kamrasi,--I am the younger brother, but he is the King."

The deceit of this country was incredible--I had positively never seen the real Kamrasi up to this moment, and this man M'Gambi now confessed to having impersonated the king his brother, as Kamrasi was afraid that I might be in league with Debono's people to murder him, and therefore he had ordered his brother M'Gambi to act the king.

I now remembered, that the woman Bacheeta had on several occasions during the journey told us that the Kamrasi we had seen was not the true M'Kamma Kamrasi; but at the time I had paid little attention to her, as she was constantly grumbling, and I imagined that this was merely said in ill temper, referring to her murdered master Sali as the rightful king.