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Chapter VII: Arrival at Gondokoro (2)

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On the night of the 4th June two natives were captured by the sentries. These people had crept in the pitch darkness, until they had succeeded in entering the cattle zareeba. One of them confessed that a large body of natives was assembled in the high grass near the banks of the river, with the intention of attacking the camp during the night.

I immediately took eighteen men, and posted them in three parties of six at various points about a quarter of a mile from my station. They were to lie concealed in these positions, which commanded every approach to the camp.

At 10.30 P.M. I was aroused by the sound of firing, and upon arrival at the shot I found that the sentries had fired into the advanced party of natives, some of whom they declared to be wounded, but I could find no trace of blood.

Open war had commenced. The natives had deserted their villages on the portion of the island opposite to my camp. This was about seven miles in length, therefore, in return for the attacks made upon my people on our mainland, I determined to pay the Baris a visit.

I issued the necessary orders. At 3 A.M., on June 5th, five boats with sixty men dropped silently down the east channel of the river, with orders to land at the extreme end of the island. At the same time two companies of troops landed opposite my station, where they waited in the dark until the steamer, with myself and two companies on board, had rounded the head of the island, and had obtained a position in the west channel. The troops then advanced while the steamer ran easily down the strong current. Everything went well, but the noise of the paddles quickly gave the alarm, and the sound of a big drum in the distance was almost immediately responded to by many others from various points.

The steamer now ran at half speed along the river, the intention of cutting off any native canoes, or intercepting any herds of cattle that might be passing to the west mainland. Every arrangement was well carried out; but, unfortunately, as we were running at about nine miles an hour, the steamer suddenly struck upon a sand-bank, where she remained fixed.

After some vain attempts to float her, I instructed Raouf Bey to do his best with her, and act, according to circumstances, at his own discretion, while I left the steamer in the dingy, accompanied by Lieutenant Baker and six soldiers of the "Forty Thieves," with the intention of joining the two companies under Lieutenant-Colonel Abd-el-Kader, who were marching down the island from south to north.

We rowed down the stream for forty-five minutes along the west bank of the island. I had calculated the distance by time, and having allowed for the delay on the steamer and the pace at which the troops under Abd-el-Rader would march, I concluded that we should now land somewhere near them. This turned out correct, as we joined his party a few minutes after we had left the boat. I immediately detached a sergeant and nineteen men to march along the east bank until they should meet my boat, which had been ordered to continue along the west bank until it should turn round the tail of the island, when it was to return home by the east channel, that would lead direct to my station.

We had not seen any Baris upon the island, which appeared to be quite deserted. The character of the ground had changed. We had left the dry portion, which had been lately sown with dhurra, and we had arrived among scattered masses of tall reeds growing from mud lately hardened by the sun and full of deep cattle-ruts.

I threw out skirmishers, as we shortly entered a bad piece of country. At this moment wo heard shots fired at the tail of the island, about two miles in our front.

We pushed on at the double, until stopped by a deep channel of the river about thirty yards wide. On the other side we now heard the horns of the natives and the lowing of cattle. It was necessary to skirt the banks of the channel through thick forest; thus, following the stream, we shortly arrived at the main river, just in time to see the natives at a distance of a quarter of a mile swimming a large herd of cattle across the stream to the east shore, where they landed and safely gained the forest. They were quickly pursued by the troops who, having landed at the tail of the island, were in chase; and being supplied with boats, they crossed over the river and followed hard upon the track of the retreating cattle.

The Baris did not suspect that they would be followed to the main shore; thus upon reaching the forest they continued their retreat leisurely. My black troops were wonderful runners; thus, when once upon the track of the herd, they went along like hounds and overtook the Baris, who had no idea of the pursuit until the soldiers were among them. The affair ended by the capture of a portion of the herd, and the return to camp at 5.30 P.M. We had eaten nothing since the previous evening, as the boat containing our breakfast had not yet appeared. We had been on our legs in the sun for fourteen hours, thus we were ready for dinner on the return to camp. I was anxious about the missing boat. On the following day, June 6, at 4.40 P.M., the lost dingy arrived with her crew all safe. They had missed their way by taking a wrong channel of the river, which led them into a labyrinth of high reeds, where they were obliged to pass the night among clouds of mosquitoes.

On the following day they began the tedious journey by rowing homeward against the stream. They came suddenly upon a large body of natives, who immediately attacked them with arrows, one of which went through the trousers of a soldier. My men told a long story, and made themselves out to be perfect heroes; but my servants and the boatmen told a very different tale, and declared that they had thrown themselves down in the bottom of the boat to avoid the arrows, and my servant, Mohammed Haroon, had himself fired my heavy gun loaded with mould shot at the enemy.

On 7th June I discovered that the Baris of Gondokoro had leagued themselves with the natives of Belinian against us.

They had attacked conjointly on several occasions. On this day the natives in force having, as usual, crept stealthily from bush to tree without being perceived by the soldiers, made a sudden rush upon the cattle guards, and shot one soldier with an arrow and wounded another with a lance. I immediately gave orders for an attack on Belinian that night. At 12.30 A.M. I left my station on horseback, accompanied by Lieutenant Baker and Mr. Higginbotham, together with Lieutenant-Colonel Abdel-Kader and twenty men of the "Forty Thieves." Not a word was spoken, as it was important to march without the slightest noise that might alarm the native scouts who were generally prowling about throughout the night. We arrived at head-quarters, a mile and a half distant, where four companies with one gun had been ordered to be in readiness. (My little station, Hellet-et-Sit, was a mile and a half north from the camp of Gondokoro, on the river's bank.) At 1 A.M. We started with a Bari guide named Sherroom, who had volunteered to serve me, together with his friend Morgian, at the commencement of the war. These men spoke Arabic, and since the flight of Tomby, the interpreter (who had joined our enemies), these two Baris were our invaluable allies.

The route to Belinian lay for the first two miles through open park-like country. We then entered the forest, where the darkness made it difficult to drag the gun, the wheels of which constantly stuck in the stumps and roots of trees. Several times we had to halt, for the rear to come up with this unmanageable gun, and I feared the delay might destroy our chance of taking the enemy by surprise.

To make matters worse, the route became swampy. Sometimes the horses sank nearly hock-deep in mud, which in the pitch darkness they could not avoid. In such places it required the force of thirty men to drag the gun, and the delays became serious. Lieutenant-Colonel Tayib Agha commanded the three companies of Soudani troops who escorted the field-piece, and took it in turns to assist the artillerymen in the weary work of dragging the gun through swamps and bush.

The night wore on; it began to rain. I was riding in advance with Lieutenant Baker, Mr. Higginbotham, and twenty of the "Forty Thieves," while Raouf Bey followed me with fifty Egyptian troops. It was absolutely necessary to push on. Tayib Agha had a native guide, therefore he and his gun could take care of themselves. Accordingly I pushed on ahead as an advanced guard, delighted to be quit of the impediment of artillery.

In about an hour we arrived at firm ground, and the country became more open and undulating. The clouds began to break and the rain ceased. We pushed briskly forward until, after marching at the pace of four miles per hour, the guide, Sherroom, suddenly halted. We were now in a clear space where a few large trees grew in a clump upon our right. Sherroom, who evidently knew every inch of the country, whispered that we must wait here in silence, as there were villages not far off, and the stockade that we were to attack was in the immediate neighbourhood. It was nearly 5 A.M., and although we had marched since one o'clock, we were not more than nine miles from Gondokoro. I trusted that our halt would allow the rear to join us with the gun which had caused so much delay.

We waited for about half-an-hour in perfect silence. There was not a star upon the sky, which was dark and murky, thus we could distinguish nothing. At length the black night began to grow more grey, and we could just make out some dark masses, that appeared to be villages, upon the right and left. We now marched rapidly, but without the slightest noise. The morning grew greyer, and birds began to whistle. We could distinguish trees and the tall crops of dhurra.

There was no sign of Tayib Agha and his detachment, but it was absolutely necessary to push forward.

We were thus hurrying on, sometimes through cultivated fields, at others through strips of forest, when we suddenly heard the long shrill cry that is the native signal of danger. This was from a Bari watchman, who, more awake than those by whom we must have passed unobserved, now gave the alarm. This cry was immediately repeated in various directions. There was no time to be lost. Sherroom bounded forward like an antelope, at a pace that kept our horses at a hand gallop. In a couple of minutes we saw a large circular stockade in a clear space, but within fifty yards of the forest on our left. We galloped up, followed closely by the "Forty Thieves," who ran like hounds. I immediately surrounded the stockade, from which the natives had commenced to shoot their arrows. The Egyptian troops were close up, and in the uncertain light it was impossible to see the arrows in their flight; thus one soldier was immediately wounded; another received a shot through his trousers. An arrow stuck in Mr. Higginbotham's saddle, and they began to fly about very viciously. The "Forty Thieves" now opened fire, while the Egyptians were drawn up in a line about fifty yards from the stockade. It was rather awkward, as the defence was a circle: thus as the troops fired into a common centre, the bullets that passed through the intervening spaces between the uprights of hard wood came pinging about our ears. The sky had become grey, and there was sufficient light to discover the doorway of the stockade. I ordered the bugles to sound "cease firing," and prepared to force the entrance. This was a narrow archway about four feet six inches high, constructed of large pieces of hard wood that it was impossible to destroy. The doorway was stopped by transverse bars of abdnoos, or Bari ebony, and protected by a mass of hooked thorn that had been dragged into the passage and jammed beneath the cross-bars.

I ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Abd-el-Kader to force the gateway. This he immediately commenced, assisted by Lieutenant Baker and Mr. Higginbotham, together with a party of the "Forty Thieves," while others of the same corps closed up to the stockade on either side of the entrance, and kept up a heavy fire to protect the attack.

In the mean time the immense drum within the stockade was thundering out the summons to collect the whole of the neighbourhood for war. This signal was answered by the heavy booming sound of innumerable drums throughout the district far and near; and as it had now become light, I could distinguish the natives collecting from all parts and evidently surrounding our position. I therefore posted men as skirmishers around the circle about eighty yards distant from the stockade, facing outwards, while the small party forced the gateway.

The fire of the snider rifles and the steady shooting of the "Forty Thieves" quickly reduced the number of arrows, and the natives, finding that it was getting too hot, suddenly made a dash by a secret entrance and rushed through the troops, now of necessity widely scattered, and they gained the forest.

At the same time the gateway was forced, and we found a prize within of upwards of six hundred cows. The stockade, or zareeba, was immensely strong, formed of massive logs of ironwood deeply imbedded in the earth, and arranged so closely together that not one bullet out of ten would have found its way through the crevices if fired from a distance. The proper way to attack the circular strongholds is to make a sudden rush close up to the defence, and to lay the rifle between the openings; the stockade then becomes a protection to the attacking party, as there is no flank fire to enfilade them.

The natives were now gathering on all sides; but we were in possession, and although our party consisted of only seventy men, we had an impregnable position, which I could hold until joined by Tayib Agha. I accordingly took a few of the "Forty Thieves" to a distance of about 150 paces away from the centre, and concealed them as sharpshooters, wherever I found a convenient cover. The fire of the sniders kept the enemy at a respectful distance.

There were no signs of Tayib Agha. The sun was risen, and clouds of steam began to rise from the wet ground and the dripping trees. I ordered some grass huts to be fired, as the volume of smoke might attract the attention of Tayib Agha's detachment, which had evidently gone astray. If near, they must have heard the sound of our rifles.

The huts were soon in flames, and the smoke rose high in air, which would be a signal to be seen from a great distance.

I sent two buglers to the top of a tall tree, from which elevated post they blew the call for the lieutenant-colonel and his three companies continually for about half-an-hour.

We were hungry, therefore a fat calf was killed, and cooking immediately commenced. I had a little box of salt and pepper, together with some biscuits; thus we were in luxury. My good Monsoor was a fair cook; therefore the fat, kidneys, and liver having been cut into pieces about two inches square, and arranged on a steel ramrod, were well salted and peppered, and laid on the red-hot embers when the flame and smoke had subsided. There is nothing so good as kabobs thus simply prepared: the ramrod is then stuck upright in the ground, and you sit down and cut off the pieces as required. Salt should always be carried mixed with black and red pepper in proper proportions; it saves much trouble.

We were enjoying our breakfast; the cows lately captured gave plenty of milk, which our servants had boiled in the Baris' earthen pots, and we were discussing the possibility of Tayib Agha having lost his way, when we heard distant shots fired on the open hills at the foot of Belinian mountain, about a mile and, a half to our right. We shortly distinguished smoke, which was a reply to our signal. It was evident that Tayib Agha had strayed far to the south, but it was satisfactory to know that he had seen our position.

We could now distinguish the troops with the telescope, and even make out the gun that was dragged by about twenty men. They were on their direct way to join us.

My men had captured three young girls, whom they brought to me. The oldest was about fifteen, and was pretty and intelligent: she had formerly been a slave of the traders, and was marked, according to their custom, by several scars on either cheek. The girl spoke good Arabic, and did not appear to show the slightest alarm.

I asked her why the Belinian Baris had attacked us, and taken cattle from the station at Gondokoro, without the slightest provocation? She replied that they had been invited by the sheik Allorron to become allies, therefore they had attacked us and driven off the cows, some of which were now among the cattle we had that morning captured.

I told her that we never took slaves, therefore she and her companions might return to the Baris, and inform them that I had come upon the tracks of the cattle which they had driven off from Gondokoro. If they desired peace, I should be happy to treat with them, but if they should return to attack us at head-quarters, I should not spare them, but I would utterly root them out of the neighbourhood. The girls laughed and started off, not in the least disturbed by the scene around them.

At length, Tayib Agha's detachment arrived. They were very angry with Morgian, the guide, who, they declared, had purposely misled them. This was not the fact; the man had lost his way in the dark in the endeavour to seek a better path for the gun. However, we were now united, and I ordered the men to breakfast.

The sniders had cleared the natives from the vicinity, and now that we had been reinforced by Tayib Agha's party, there was no fear of the Baris. They kept aloof, and merely watched our movements from the tops of high trees, where they perched like cormorants, and saw the enjoyment of the troops engaged in roasting beef that had lately been their own.

I fully expected a difficulty with the natives when we should attempt to drive the herd of strange cattle through the jungle path to Gondokoro. I therefore determined to make a reconnaissance of the neighbourhood when the men should have finished their breakfast, in order to drive the Baris from the vicinity, and thus obtain a fair start for the cattle.

Leaving one company to protect the stockade and captured cattle, I took the remaining three companies and the gun, and extending the line in open order, with skirmishers thrown out in front and the gun in the centre, we advanced through the country.

A large river bed, now almost dry, with very abrupt banks, lay on our left. The wood became thinner, and we suddenly emerged upon a broad, open valley or plain, which was bounded on our right by the high mountain of Belinian, about a mile and a half distant.

The plain was covered with villages, and the entire country was green with cultivation, the dhurra being then about two feet high. The gun-carriage ran easily over the flat ground, and we advanced rapidly forward, the Baris clearing out of their villages and gathering on our flanks as we approached. A shot from the gun sent an eight-pound shell which exploded in the air above a group about 700 yards distant. This was sufficient notice to quit. The enemy dared not stand upon open ground; thus, after we had driven them forward for about two miles. we faced about and returned to the stockade.

We now opened the gateway and drove out the hungry cattle. They looked very wild, and I rather feared a stampede; it was necessary to leave them in the hands of our two allies, Sherroom and Morgian, as the cattle neither understood Arabic nor the manners or customs of the Egyptians. After a little whistling and coaxing in the Bari language, the herd started, well protected by troops on both flanks, and an advance guard at 150 paces' distance. The rear was brought up by the gun and the "Forty Thieves."

The natives appeared to be under the impression that we were going to pass the night at the zareeba; thus they had no knowledge of our start, and we arrived at Gondokoro and entered the station about an hour after sunset, having been out nineteen hours.

I now learnt that the Baris of Gondokoro had imagined that the greater portion of the troops had gone to Belinian for an excursion of some days; they had accordingly beaten their big drums and gathered together from all quarters to attack the camp, but discretion overcame their valour when they found a large force still at head-quarters.

On June 9, eight vessels of Agad's hove in sight, and with a fair breeze they arrived opposite the island at 2.30 p.m.

Abou Saood was in one of these vessels.

June 10, Abou Saood presented himself to me this morning. His vessels, being without cargoes, benefited much by our work in the sudd. He found all our cuttings open, therefore he had no difficulty until he arrived at the dam, through which his people cut a passage. The great rush of water scoured a deep channel, and his squadron of light vessels came on without difficulty. I ordered Abou Saood's people to camp on the west bank of the river, as I did not wish them to be in constant communication with my troops, who would quickly become contaminated by their morals.

The news brought by Abou Saood from Khartoum informed me of the death of Agad; therefore the representation of the firm of Agad & Co. had now devolved upon Abou Saood, his son-in-law.

I now heard that the people of Abou Saood, who numbered about 500 men, had brought with them a large herd of cattle which they had driven along the west bank of the river; thus in direct defiance of the government authority, he had made a razzia upon some tribe during his voyage, and he had not scrupled to present himself to me with the herd of stolen cattle staring me in the face on the other side of the water.

On my way up from the Bahr Giraffe I had left a Turkish major, Achmet Rafik Effendi, with a corporal and five men, in the Shir tribe, about forty miles from Gondokoro, with a friendly sheik named Niambore. This sheik was the tallest and most powerful man that I ever saw in Africa, and he was a trustworthy and good fellow. He had promised to cultivate a farm for the government, therefore I had given him ten bushels of dhurra for seed, and I had left with him at his request the officer and soldiers, to represent the government and to superintend the cultivation.

I now discovered that Abou Saood had attacked the natives without any provocation, and had carried off the cattle from the country adjoining Niambore's district.

The natives would naturally imagine that my officer and six men were spies who had directed Abou Saood to their cattle, and there would be a great chance of a conflict between Niambore, their protector, and his neighbours who had been robbed.

I observed with the telescope that the people of Abou Saood who arrived with the herd of cattle were accompanied by a great number of natives, and the Baris of Gondokoro, who were at open war with us, flocked to welcome the new comers as old friends who had been long absent. The brigands had as usual arrived with a large herd of cattle, which in Africa is always the best introduction; thus the robber tribe of Allorron was delighted at the return of those who had always led them to plunder, and had enriched them with the spoil of cows and slaves. I find the following entry in my journal, dated--

"June 12, 1871.--The natives who are at war with us have been gathering in large numbers to the spot on the west bank occupied by Abou Saood's people. The latter are actually holding friendly intercourse with them, and the Baris are quite at home assisting these rascals in erecting their camp, although they positively refused to work for the government upon our first arrival. This is the treasonable conduct of Abou Saood, who knows perfectly well that we are at open war with the Baris.

"His large herd of about 1,400 fat cattle were driven along in triumph, followed by the admiring population of thieving niggers, who hail his arrival as the harbinger of fat times, Gondokoro being the general depot for all stolen cattle, slaves. &c., and the starting point for every piratical expedition.

"In the afternoon I started in a dingy, accompanied by Colonel Abd-el-Kader, Lieutenant Baker, Monsoor, and four soldiers, to visit the traders' camp on the west side of the river.

"Seeing me approach, a great number of Baris left the traders, and taking to a precipitate flight they disappeared in the high reeds. The traders' people received me without the slightest mark of respect, and one insolent fellow swaggered up and stared me in the face with a pipe in his mouth as a studied insult.

"I went to the cattle pens and immediately placed my four soldiers as sentries over the herd, which I confiscated, as a warning to these ruffianly slave-hunters.

"It would be a disgrace to tolerate these thieves, as Gondokoro is rendered a perfect hell, and the natives will naturally abhor any lawful government so long as they can consort and share spoils with such brigands as these so-called traders of Khartoum."

Upon my return home I wrote an official letter to Abou Saood of which the following is a copy :--

"ISMAILIA, or GONDOKORO, June 12, 1871.

"To Abou Saood, vakeel of the firm of Agad & Co.

"Sir,

"You arrived here on the 10th inst. with a large number of cattle stolen by you and your people.

"You, knowing that the Baris were at war with the government, have nevertheless been in daily and friendly communication with them.

"The Baris of this country are rendered hostile to all honest government by the conduct of your people, who, by stealing slaves and cattle from the interior, and delivering them here, have utterly destroyed all hope of improvement in a people naturally savage, but now rendered by your acts thieves of the worst description.

"It is impossible that I can permit the continuance of such acts.

"I therefore give you due notice that at the expiration of your contract you will withdraw all your people from the district under my command. At the same time I declare the forfeiture to the government of the cattle you have forcibly captured under the eyes of my authority.

"SAMUEL W. BAKER."

The only error that I can acknowledge throughout the expedition was my present leniency. I should at once have placed Abou Saood in irons, and have sent him to Khartoum, instead of leaving him at large to carry on his intrigues against the government.

I intended on the first opportunity to send notice to the Shir tribe of the safety of their cattle, but an incident shortly occurred that altered my determination. (These cattle were kept in a separate pen or zareeba, and were guarded when at pasturage by special soldiers for some weeks, in order that they should be returned to the Shir tribe upon the first opportunity.)

At the same time that Abou Saood was in disgrace, he was a bosom friend of the colonel, Raouf Bey, who commanded my troops. They dined together constantly in the house of the latter officer, and their friendship had originally commenced in Khartoum during the long interval that the regiments were awaiting my arrival from Cairo. It was during that interval that the officers of the expedition had fraternized with the White Nile traders who resided at Khartoum.

The result of such intimacy might be imagined.

The object of the expedition had always been distasteful to both officers and men. The traders had already seen by the, examples made at Tewfikeeyah that I should actually destroy their cherished slave-trade. It was therefore natural that Abou Saood should exert himself to ruin the expedition. Having friend in Raouf Bey, he was in a position to create division of opinion. He constantly associated with this officer, in order that it should be generally known that he was supported by an influential person in the government service. The scandal of the camp quickly assumed that the opinions concerning the slave-traders between myself and Raouf Bey were at variance.

The officers of the expedition had, contrary to my express orders, purchased 126 slaves from the stations of the traders during the White Nile voyage! I had only learnt this on arrival at Gondokoro; thus when corn was so scarce that the rations were reduced, while those of meat were increased, we had an addition of 126 mouths!

The policy of the slave-traders was identical with the feelings of the officers and men, all of whom wished to abandon the expedition and return to Khartoum. Abou Saood worked molelike in his intrigues. He fraternized secretly with Allorron and his Baris. Many of his men purchased tobacco from the natives in exchange for ammunition. The natives from Belinian were in daily communication with Abou Saood's camp, and their spies obtained information of our proceedings, and carried the news throughout the country that "they would be supported by Abou Saood against my authority."

I learnt everything that occurred through trustworthy agents. It quickly became known that Raouf Bey was desirous to terminate the expedition. The contagion spread rapidly, and the men worked languidly and without the slightest interest: they had made up their minds that the expedition was a failure, and that a scarcity of corn would be their excuse for a return to Khartoum. Abou Saood fanned the flame among the officers, and discontent became general.

In the mean time the Baris were very active in annoying the camp at night. Although these natives could not stand against the troops in the open, they harassed them by necessitating a perpetual vigilance both by night and day. It was necessary to have strong patrols in two parties at all hours; and I regret to say the Egyptian officers and men did not appear to enjoy a state of war where activity and good discipline were absolutely necessary. The Soudani officers and men, although ignorant, were far superior to the Egyptians in activity and courage.

Unfortunately the camp was sickly. The men now suffered from the fatigue of the long voyage through slush and marsh. Many had fever and dysentery. Ulcerated legs were prevalent; and this disease appeared to be contagious. Many men died from these malignant ulcers, which in some cases entirely destroyed the foot. The women did not suffer from this complaint. It originated from a poisonous grass that festered the wound it gave, and rapidly produced an incurable sore. As the women had not been exposed to the work in the marshes, they had escaped the scourge inflicted by the sharp edges of the grass.

There was no rest for the people; they had to build their camp and fight the Baris at the same time. A scarcity of corn stared them in the face. The officers and men were well aware that we could not hope for regular supplies of corn and reinforcements of troops from Khartoum in the dreadful state of the river: thus they felt their position keenly, as sick, dispirited, in the midst of enemies, with approaching famine of corn, and no communication with the Soudan. All these difficulties were to be endured for the sake of an object which they detested--"the suppression of the slave trade."

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IsmailiaChapter VII: Arrival at Gondokoro (2)

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