Chapter XVII (1)

Return to the North. Tikkitikki’s reluctance to start. Passage of
the Gadda. Sounding the Keebaly. The river Kahpily. Cataracts of
the Keebaly. Kubby’s refusal of boats. Our impatience. Crowds
of hippopotamuses. Possibility of fording the river. Origin and
connection of the Keebaly. Division of highland and lowland.
Geographical expressions of Arabs and Nubians. Mohammedan
perversions. Return to Nembey. Bivouac in the border-wilderness.
Eating wax. The Niam-niam declare war. Parley with the enemy.
My mistrust of the guides. Treacherous attack on Mohammed.
Mohammed’s dangerous wound. Open war. Detruncated heads. Effect
of arrows. Mohammed’s defiance. Attack on the abattis. Pursuit
of the enemy. Inexplicable appearance of 10,000 men. Wando’s
unpropitious omen. My Niam-niam and their oracle. Mohammed’s
speedy cure. Solar phenomenon. Dogs barbarously speared. Women
captured. Niam-niam affection for their wives. Calamus. Upper
course of the Mbrwole. Fresh captive. Her composure. Alteration
in scenery. Arrival at the Nabambisso.

After a sojourn of three weeks, the 12th of April was fixed for the raising of our camp and for the departure of our caravan from the residence of the Monbuttoo king.

For myself it was with a sad and heavy heart that I had to begin retracing my steps towards the north. How bitter was my disappointment may well be imagined. I could not be otherwise than aware that I was leaving behind my only chance of answering some of those important questions that might be propounded to me; and my regret was aggravated by the conviction that a journey comparatively short would now have brought me to the sources of the three great rivers of the west, the only streams that are absolutely closed to our geographical knowledge, viz, the Benwe, the Ogawai, and the Congo. Distant as I was hardly more than 450 miles from the limit that had been reached by Livingstone, I could discern, as I fondly imagined, from Munza’s residence, a path clearly open towards the south-west which would conduct me to the Congo and to the states of the mighty Mwata Yanvo; it appeared to me to be a path that, once explored, would solve the remaining problems of the heart of Africa as decidedly as the sword of Alexander severed the Gordian knot, and now, just when there was only one more district to be traversed and that not larger than what we had already passed since leaving the Gazelle, to be obliged to abandon further progress and to leave the mysterious secrets still unravelled was a hardship to which it was impossible patiently to submit. But there was no alternative, and, however reluctantly, I had to yield.

I have already spoken of the various obstacles to any further advance; I must, however, again insist upon my conviction that any single traveller, provided he had not an undue proportion of flesh (for to be fat would be fatal), might march on unhindered down the Welle as far as Baghirmy, since the population was all well disposed enough as far as regards the white man. But any attempt to carry on an entire caravan in that direction would have met with the most strenuous opposition on the part of King Munza; his indirect influence might have enabled travellers to descend as far to the south as lat. 2° N.; but for this his sanction would have had to be purchased by an enormous contribution of copper.

The first event of the morning of our start occasioned no small stir amongst the Nubians. Mohammed Aboo Sammat had established a Seriba in the place, for the garrisoning of which twenty-eight men had to be left behind, and several hours elapsed before the necessary conscription could be accomplished. Apart from myself, depressed as I was by my disappointment, every one else was elated at the prospect of returning, so that no penalty could be considered much heavier than being compelled to tarry in this remote region for one or two years, and possibly longer, to be the associates of cannibals; each man accordingly upon whom the unlucky destiny chanced to fall received his orders to remain with the loudest murmurs of dissatisfaction, and the outcry and contention threatened to be interminable. At length, by cajoling, by bribing, by promises of ample pay, and, it must be added, by the representation of the lives of frolic they would lead with the Monbuttoo women, the malcontents were persuaded unwillingly to acquiesce in their fate.

It was noon before the column was actually in motion. The Nubians parted from their companions with the most touching embraces; the crowds of chattering Monbuttoo surrounded the encampment and watched with vivid interest the thousand gestures of farewell, whilst the negro-bearers, silent and stolid as ever, set forward on their way.

[Sidenote: TIKKITIKKI’S FAREWELL.]

During this parting scene my little Tikkitikki (as the Niam-niam called the Pygmy who had been presented to me a few days previously) was seized with an apparent fit of home sickness; he set up such a dismal howling and sobbed so bitterly that I confess I was for a while undecided whether I would really carry him away, but I soon discovered that it was only the uninitiated who could be imposed upon by his behavior. He was not bewailing the loss of his home, for he was utterly ignorant as to where that home had been; neither was he deploring his separation from his kinsfolk, for they stood by, gesticulating wildly, and only mocked at his distress. The fact was, he was influenced solely by his dread of strangers. He was in mortal fear of being eaten up. It very rarely happens among the Monbuttoo that natives are surrendered to the Nubians for slaves: the occasion therefore of a present being made of a human creature would only too readily suggest the thought that some ulterior destination for cannibal purposes was in view. Altogether inadequate to appease Tikkitikki’s fears as to his approaching fate was the gorgeous silk jacket in which I arrayed him, and it was with no little satisfaction that I found I could pacify him by offering him the choicest morsels that I could procure for him to eat. After spending a few days with me in my tent, and finding himself treated with all the dainties that the country could produce, he forgot his troubles, laid aside his apprehensions, and became as happy as a little prince.

From the splendid thickets upon the banks of the rivulets which streamed across our path I gathered all the specimens I could of the flora of this distant land, and all along our return journey I lost no available opportunity of contributing any novelty to my botanical store.

For about five miles we followed the route by which we had arrived, proceeding in a north-easterly direction until we reached the mounds of gneiss that lay before the third stream. Making a little _détour_ to the left I mounted the eminences, which were crowned with some fine fig-trees, whence I could watch our long caravan winding amongst the plantain-groves; now and then my view of the _cortège_ would be obstructed by some rising oil-palms, and finally the train would disappear in the obscurity of the gallery-forest. The streams were now much swollen, and their passage entailed not only a considerable loss of time but some trial of strength. The paths were so narrow that we were compelled to proceed in single file, not unfrequently being obliged to halt in places where the shadows of the forest were far too light to afford us any protection from the raging heat. Upon these occasions I found a draught from a calabash of plantain-wine very refreshing. Every now and then I had recourse to a pipe. Altogether, however, in spite of its inconveniences the journey was through scenery so charming that it could not be otherwise than enjoyable.

After crossing the third brook we made a turn to the right, thus entering upon a way that was new to us. Having traversed an open steppe along the edge of a gallery extending to the north-east, we encamped at nightfall at a farmstead near the river Gadda. Half-an-hour’s march in the morning brought us to the river bank.

[Sidenote: THE GADDA.]

In its dimensions the Gadda resembles the Wow just above its junction with the Dyoor, but it does not exhibit the same periodical changes in the volume of its waters; its bed remains fall throughout the year, and at this date (April 13th) I found that it was 155 feet wide and but 3 feet deep, its velocity being 57 feet in a minute. The banks were bounded by light woods, and the soil not being subject to any further inundations had only a gentle slope; the floodmarks on the shore proved the difference between the highest and lowest conditions of the river to be 20 feet. The Gadda has its source far to the south-east, and, flowing across the dominions of the Monbuttoo king Degberra, joins the Keebaly: the united streams then receive the name of the Welle.

Without unnecessary loss of time we forded the sandy river-bed, and, continuing our march for about another half hour, arrived at the left bank of the Keebaly. The river here exhibited much the same character as the Welle at the spot where we had forded it upon our outward journey, but I presume it was somewhat narrower, as by trigonometrical measurement I found that its width was only 325 feet.

By the orders of the king boats were in readiness to convey the caravan across, and the ferrymen did their work so well and quickly that the entire passage was accomplished in three hours. While the transit was being effected I took the opportunity of embarking in a canoe for the purpose of estimating the depth and velocity of the stream, an operation in which I was materially assisted by the greater experience of my servant Mohammed Ameen. In the same way as I noticed on the Welle, the current was much stronger on the northern or right shore; by throwing a gourd upon the flood and observing the number of feet it progressed in a minute, I estimated the ratio of the currents upon the opposite banks to be as 15:19. The depth was between 12 and 13 feet, and there were neither rocks nor sand-banks in this part of the river-bed.

As I stood in the long grass superintending the stowage of the baggage, I was very considerably inconvenienced by the inquisitiveness of the natives, who persisted in thronging close around. In order to get free from their intrusion I was glad to resort to all kinds of artifices, such as throwing some lighted touchwood amongst them, and treating them to a few cartridges. After the last bearer had started and they observed that I still continued to paddle up and down the stream, their curiosity knew no bounds. Trusting to the superiority of our firearms and the protection of my own servants, I felt perfectly secure and enjoyed the bewildered surprise with which the natives who crowded the banks surveyed our evolutions. The dexterous swimming and diving of my Nubians excited the liveliest interest, and every time the sounding-lead was dipped it was watched as eagerly as if it were about to draw forth from the deep some treasure of the Nibelungen.

Northward again. We passed the farmsteads of the local overseer Parra, crossed the brook Mboolah, and pitched our camp at a hamlet but a few miles from the stream. The remainder of the day I spent in botanizing. I made my way into the thickets, and found some splendid representatives of such large-leaved plants as the philodendra, calladia, and marantha, which gleamed with a metallic sheen. The overseer was very liberal: he supplied us freely with beer, and the greater part of the night was spent in friendly intercourse with the natives, who found, as ever, my hair and my lucifers to be an unfailing source of interest. Myself the people designated as “a good man,” and, satisfied that I had come from the skies, they interpreted my arrival as a token of peace and happiness.

[Sidenote: BONGWA.]

Our road on the following day lay through a country that was generally open, and we had no stream to cross until we reached the brook Bumba, near the village of Bongwa. Here we regained our former route. The country was perfectly safe, and I was accordingly able to march with my own people in the rear of the caravan, and devote my attention to my botanical researches. The hamlets that we passed were pleasant resting-places, and as we halted under the welcome shade of the foliage, the natives rarely failed to hasten out and bring fresh plantains for our refreshment.

At Bongwa we made a halt for a whole day, for the purpose of giving the smiths an opportunity of working, as it was necessary for our copper bars to be transformed into some thousands of rings. For my own part I found ample employment in sketching, and in adding what I could to my store of curiosities. The victualling of the caravan, moreover, had become a matter of increased difficulty; it was now the season for planting out, and all the roots and tubers which the natives had spared from the preceding year had just been put into the ground, so that there was a general scarcity of provisions; a fact that was brought home to our own experience, when we found that the yams that were supplied to us had already commenced throwing out their fresh sprouts.

Retracing our former track we crossed by fording the six approximate streams that it may be remembered I noticed on our advance. On our arrival at Nembey’s residence, we at once found shelter in the camp-huts that had been erected at our last visit, and which were still in a very fair state of preservation. I took a long ramble and made a careful inspection of the plantations of sugar-cane in the adjoining wildernesses upon the river-banks; my first impression was that the canes were a rank spontaneous growth, but I was distinctly and repeatedly assured that they were nowhere, by any chance, found wild, and would not thrive without the aid of man.

Wando’s territory was before us. It now became a matter of serious consideration how our progress across that hostile district should be accomplished. Mohammed’s first suggestion was that we should take a circuitous route far to the east, and then that he should himself return with his armed forces strengthened by a complement from his head Seriba on the Nabambisso, and thus proceed to rescue the store of ivory that had been entrusted to Wando’s care. To this scheme no doubt there were various objections. The new route would be entirely unknown to the Nubians, and as, beyond a question, it would lead across wildernesses utterly void of any population, the caravan would necessarily have to endure no small measure of privation. In any case trustworthy guides would be necessary in order that the caravan might arrive at its destination in any seasonable time. Notwithstanding all difficulties, Mohammed resolved to attempt to penetrate to the eastern Monbuttoo country, although for this purpose we should be obliged to recross the Keebaly. Nembey was tributary to Degberra, the king of the eastern Monbuttoo, and it had been necessary for Mohammed thus to proceed in the first place to his village; the fact being that the enmity between Munza and Degberra was so bitter that there was no possibility of passing _directly_ from the territory of one to that of the other. We started accordingly, and the whole train having crossed the brook Kussumbo, we turned to the south-east along an open steppe, and proceeded for about half a league until we reached a deep hollow from which there issued one of the smaller tributaries of the Kussumbo. This hollow was formed by one of the landslips so common in this part of Africa, caused by the gradual washing away from below of the ferruginous swamp-ore, which was here at least 50 feet thick. The depth of the defile itself was about 80 feet; its sides were enveloped in dense bushes, and the masses of rock which were quite homogeneous were adorned with a covering of hitherto unknown fern of the genus adiantum, which, in spots like this, clothes the reeking stones with a complete down of feathery fronds.

[Sidenote: THE KAHPILY.]

Another half league across the steppe and I was surprised to find that we were on the banks of a copious river that about eight miles to the south-west joined the Keebaly. Astonished at the sight of the rushing waters I turned to my Monbuttoo guide, and, availing myself of the few words in his dialect with which I was familiar, I asked him “_Na eggu rukodassi?_” (What do you call that river?) From his reply I discovered that it was the Kahpily, not the Keebaly. The similar sound of the names of these two collateral streams warned me afresh how carefully the traveller should render the names of rivers which he hears; time passes on and the names of places are changed with their chiefs, but the names of their rivers are handed on by the Africans from generation to generation as long as their language and nationality remain unaltered;[43] only where these change do the names of the rivers fall into oblivion. The Kahpily has a rapid current from north-east to south-west; its depth here was only 4 feet, but its bed, 40 feet in width, and its steep rocky walls, 40 feet in height, demonstrated that this important stream must be subject to a considerable increase in its volume. In my own mind I was convinced that all these rivers, meeting within so limited an area, must have their sources in some mountain region at no great distance, little as the aspect of the surrounding country seemed to warrant the supposition. It was evident to my mind that the Kahpily must rise near the source-streams of the Dyoor, and from a mountain-chain extending to the south-east from Baginze, a district which would appear to be the nucleus of a whole series of source-streams that flow thence to the north and west.

While the caravan was being carefully conducted across the river by means of an immense stem of a tree that stretched over from bank to bank, I enjoyed a refreshing bath in the foaming waters. Proceeding next in the direction of E.S.E., we passed over a level steppe. As we approached the river that next intercepted us we found that we were on the recent track of a lion; the vestiges in the red clay were all so well-defined that the natives, with their keen hunting instinct, pronounced without hesitation that they had been made by an aged male. The steppes extend for a long distance along the right bank of the Keebaly without being relieved by human habitations, and the district naturally abounds with game. Herds of leucotis antelopes animated the plain and tempted me to devote an hour to the chase. Drenched with perspiration, almost as if I were in the tumult of a battle, and aimlessly following the impulse of the moment, I pushed my way through the tall savannah-grass. Hunting in Africa may be fairly described to be one continual whirl and scramble; the very abundance of game confuses the vision; one object of attraction rises rapidly after another, and baffles any attempt at deliberation. After considerable perseverance I succeeded in bringing down a buck antelope, much to the astonishment of the natives, who were watching my movements from the road, and persisted to the last in questioning the efficiency of my firearms. I hit a second antelope, but did not kill it. It was pursued by the natives for many miles, and only just before sunset did they succeed in surrounding it so that they could despatch it by means of their lances. In the middle of the night I was called up, and naturally supposed that something serious had transpired, but I soon discovered that the reason why my rest had been disturbed was merely that I might be shown the mark of my bullet in the animal’s thigh. The men insisted upon my feeling the depth of the wound with my finger, and seemed unable to comprehend that they were showing me nothing that was new.

[Sidenote: THE TRUMPET-TREE.]

A little rivulet, called the Kambeley, wound down a hollow incline of which the sides were indented with many a vale of different level. The sides of the hollow were covered for a considerable height with a tangled jungle from which the great leaves of the trumpet-tree (_Cecropia_) rose like brilliant fans; and interwoven amongst its thickets there was a new species of palm, something akin to the rotang, of which every leaf terminated in a long spray, armed with prickles, like a pike-hook. From this palm the Monbuttoo cut canes as thick as their arms, which are reputed to be so difficult to break that they are not unfrequently used as a criterion in testing strength. Above the primeval wood the narrow valley was crowned with a number of small and graceful huts. Altogether the spot was so romantic and wild, and yet withal it had an air of so much snug and cosy comfort, that it seemed to entice one to choose it for his home.

At this point our caravan was joined by a party of people sent by Kubby, one of Degberra’s sub-chieftains, from beyond the Keebaly, to open ivory transactions with Mohammed, a circumstance that boded us no good, and forbade us from being in any way sanguine of a hospitable reception from Kubby. This half-way meeting was only a blind; it was a pretext to prevent us from alleging that his subsequent refusal to allow us to cross the river was actuated by any hostile motive. An African chief always likes to have a loophole as long as it is doubtful whether peace is preferable to war.

The ground, with its continual indentations, slanted gradually downwards as we approached the great river. Several ravines and clefts with their flowing source-springs had to be traversed before we reached the river bank, and even then, with the roar of the cataract close beside us, we were obliged to trace and retrace our steps up and down the shore before we could find a suitable place for an encampment.

At this date (April 18th) the Keebaly filled a bed more than 1200 feet in width. The main current followed the left or southern shore, along which a great bank of gneiss lay exposed, now stretched out in wide flats, and now piled up in countless fragments like huge lumps of ice. The extreme height of this bank never exceeded fifty feet, while the northern bank, on which we had our station, was covered with the most splendid forest and rose to a height of at least a hundred feet. Higher up, the stream was parted into numerous channels, and amidst these was a profusion of woody islands, against which the foaming waters broke, throwing the sparkle of their spray into the darkness of the thicket.[44] The channels appeared to be all quite navigable, although the sound of the rapids could be distinctly heard. “Kissingah” is the general name by which these rapids are distinguished; but the Monbuttoo are accustomed simply to refer to them as “the islands.” We could observe the conical roofs of the fishing-huts peeping out from amidst the foliage, and noticed the canoes of the unfriendly natives darting rapidly across from one islet to another. Not one, however, of these fishing-boats came near us; nor was there the least indication of the coming of any of Kubby’s messengers to assist us in our passage across the stream. We became aware only too soon of a resolution to obstruct our progress, the cause of which was readily to be explained. Poncet’s (subsequently Ghattas’s) company had a Seriba in Kubby’s district, and the Nubians who had been left in charge had succeeded in inducing the chief to refuse us the assistance of his boats, for no other reason whatever than that they feared Mohammed’s competition with themselves, and that they were eager to monopolize the entire ivory-trade of the district.

For the next day we waited on. No boats arrived. This waste of time suited the plans neither of Mohammed nor of myself. Our provisions, moreover, were getting low. There was no prospect of revictualling. Accordingly our resolution was taken: without delay we would return to Nembey.

[Sidenote: THE KEEBALY.]

During the day of indecision, I exerted myself as best I could to explore the wildernesses of the Keebaly. My attention was chiefly attracted by a fragrant crinum, in shape and size resembling a white lily. The diversity of the trees seemed almost endless, and I was especially amazed at the variety of the anonaceæ and fig-trees, of which I found little short of forty species.

An infallible proof of the size and copiousness of the river was afforded by the number of hippopotamuses that were floundering about. I amused myself by clambering along the smooth rocks that projected into the water, and testing my bullets on the hides of the unwieldy brutes; having an ample store of ammunition, for which there did not seem to be much demand in the way of regular hunting, I fired away over the surface of the water, for the hour together. My sport created a vivid sensation amongst the natives upon the opposite bank, for although they had the prudence to keep carefully out of sight, they could not resist surreptitiously spying at our camp from behind their bushes; they manifested their surprise at the enormous range covered by my rifles, being acquainted only with the guns of the Nubians, the best of which could not carry half the distance.

The waters of the Keebaly have the repute of affording a home to a very remarkable animal that has never been observed in any of the streams that rise from the Nile basin. The Nubians, who have a habit of calling anything with which they are not familiar by whatever name may come uppermost at the moment, have given this animal the designation of a “Kharoof-el-bahr,” or river-sheep; they describe it in such a way that there can be little doubt that it is a manatus or lamantin (probably M. Vogellii), which is so frequently found in the rivers of Western Africa that flow into the Atlantic. My short and unsettled sojourn on the Keebaly prohibited me from securing, out of these tropical source-streams, a specimen of this strange representative of the Sirenia family.

I am perfectly certain that if Mohammed had pleased he could have forced his way across the river. The dexterous Nubians had but to swim over with their guns upon their heads, and they could readily have taken possession of the canoes which, too large and cumbrous to be transported by land, were concealed in the thickets upon the opposite shore. I merely mention this to illustrate my opinion that, with a company of Nubians, the great African rivers in themselves offer no insuperable obstacles to a resolute traveller.

As already affirmed, the Keebaly is to be considered as the main stream of the river that, in its lower course, is known as the Welle. Before quitting it we may do well to give our brief attention to the geographical questions that are associated with this discovery.

In the accounts collected from his agents, and published by Poncet, the river is called the Boora or Baboora;[45] but as I never heard this name, I can only surmise that Poncet’s informants had somehow misunderstood or misinterpreted the regular name Keebaly or Keebary. In the same way I never heard anything of a king mentioned under the name of Kagooma, or of a tribe called the Onguroo. The Nubians seem never to recollect the native names of rivers, and invariably pronounce all names whatever most incorrectly; the information derived from that quarter is of little value to the geographer, and it is very much to be regretted that the most travelled and experienced leaders of the Khartoom expeditions should have failed so much in acquiring definite details; had it been otherwise, their knowledge would have been of great assistance in laying down more complete and accurate maps of the country.

The probability that the Keebaly and the Welle are identical with the upper course of the Shary appears to become at once almost a positive certainty when we ask the counter-question, “If this is not the Shary, whence does the Shary come?” All that we know and all that we do not know about the north and north-western districts conspire to satisfy us that in that direction there is neither a sufficient reservoir, nor an adequate space, for the development of a network of streams large enough to form a river which is half a mile broad at its mouth, and which fills a lake as large as the whole of Belgium. The waters of the Welle, however, do not rise till April, while the Shary occasionally rises in March. In order to explain this earlier rising of the lower river, we seem to be compelled to adopt the supposition that there must be some _second_ main stream which issues from a latitude more southerly than the Keebaly. Quite insignificant are the two affluents, the Nalobey and the Nomayo, which the river receives on the left from the south of Munza’s territory.

There can be little doubt about the real origin of the Keebaly. Although, as delineated on my map, the river has a position as though it issued directly from the north-west angle of the Mwootan Lake (Albert Nyanza), nothing was more remote from my intention than to jump to such a precipitate conclusion; there was nothing either in the nature of the river and its tributaries, or in the information received from the various natives, which could, in any way, justify such a hypothesis. On the contrary, I am quite convinced of the correctness of Baker’s statement. I entirely concur with his view that Lake Mwootan is the great basin of the Nile, and that the Bahr-el-Gebel is its only outlet. That Lake Mwootan, simply on account of its abundance of water, must necessarily have _several_ outlets, and that the Ayi (the river which Baker calls the Yè) is one of those outlets, is only a geographical chimera which, in the Old World at least, has no analogy, and which would only be admitted to the theories of _dilettanti_. According to Baker’s measurement Lake Mwootan (Albert Nyanza) is 2720 feet above the level of the sea. But by comparing the rapids of the Keebaly with the height of Munza’s residence (2707 feet), which has been verified by the most rigid scientific appliances, I have ascertained that they are almost on the same level as the lake. The river and the lake being thus at the same altitude constitutes decisive evidence that the Keebaly does not issue from the lake, from which it is distant about 170 miles.

All the rivers that were embraced within the compass of my journey appeared to me to have their source in the spur of the Galla-Abyssinian highlands, through which the Bahr-el-Gebel passes in the Madi country. Those which belong to the Nile system would seem to spring from the mountains of Koshi on the north of Lake Mwootan, whilst those which are tributary to the Shary have their source in what Baker designates the Blue Mountains, which he observed to the north-west of the lake. Including the Mfumbiro group on the north of Lake Tanganyika—that group which under Speke’s name of “the Mountains of the Moon,” has obtained a certain geographical notoriety—this mountain system apparently forms a section of that conspicuous terrace-chain which (with the only exceptions of the Niger source-territory and the lofty isolated coast ranges by the equator) divides the continent of Africa, not according to the prevailing idea into a northern and southern, but into an eastward and westward half of highland and lowland. The highland embraces a large number of inland lakes, some of which allow their waters to escape most diffusely, whilst others appear to have no outlet at all. Many of these lakes are found close to the western ridge of the high ground. Besides the Keebaly, the Lualaba amongst other rivers may be named as forcing its way through the mountains of Rua, and apparently flowing in a westerly direction towards the lowland. If we imagine a prolonged line to cut the entire continent from Massowa to Mossamedes, it would coincide almost precisely with the terrace-chain of which I have spoken; it would answer very much to a corresponding line of division between the highlands and lowlands of South America which, like an Africa turned right over, has its coast-chain on the western side.

Nurtured as I had been upon the banks of the Düna, my earliest memories were associated with the aspect of a majestic river with its foaming waves, and it was consequently with no ordinary pleasure that I gazed upon this stream which hitherto no white man had ever beheld. I retain the most vivid recollection of the last evening that I spent upon the banks of the Keebaly, when both time and place contributed to provoke a geographical discussion. The Nubians are always ready to talk about rivers. They will enlarge freely upon their source, their aspect, and their connection; but, carried away by their imagination, they never fail to represent their own incomparable Nile as _par excellence_ the river of rivers, the very spring and reservoir of all the goodliest waters of the earth. A compendium of all their geographical delusions would form an interesting study, and might furnish a key to many antiquated traditions. It is well known that the Nubians and Arabians always give the name of “island” to the projecting point of land which lies at the confluence of any two rivers; thus Sennaar would be described as the “island” between the White and the Blue Nile; and it was in the same sense that the ancients applied the name to Meroë, the land between the Nile and the Atbara. It is a matter of remark again that the Nubians are accustomed to invert, as it were, the upward and downward courses of a stream, and to describe the confluence of two rivers as the separation of the main stream into two branches. This habit may possibly account for the frequent mention of “arms” in all their descriptions of their rivers: it is in accordance moreover with the practice of the ancients, who referred to the junction of the White and Blue Nile at Khartoom as a partition of the entire stream, “_ubi Nilus iterum bifurcus_;” a notion probably only derived from the habitual expressions of the natives which would thus appear to have remained unaltered for many centuries.

[Sidenote: NUBIAN INCONSISTENCY.]

A corresponding difference between the Nubian mode of expression and our own is observable in all their allusions to the motions of rivers, and they would speak, for example, of the Nile as going _towards_, and not as descending _from_ the mountains. On the bank of the Keebaly I sat discussing the topic of river-systems with Mohammed Aboo Sammat and his people; but as we argued over the many hydrographical problems that were yet unsolved I detected him in the most flagrant contradictions. At length, losing my patience, I desired him to show me with his hand which way he supposed the Keebaly to flow; the whole party simultaneously motioned towards the east, and turning to the west declared that that was the direction from which the river came. Startled from my composure, I rated them soundly upon their inconsistencies. “Why, you Mussulmen,” I said, “twist and turn everything upside down. We can comprehend you in nothing. What is sin with us is righteousness with you. The day you call night.[46] In your Ramadan, _you_ fast during the daytime; _we_ do all our fasting at night. Go to a strange place and you expect the people to be the first to visit you. Go to a feast and you take the place of the host, and treat the servants to their beer. Your bridegrooms, too, you make them pay for their brides instead of taking them with a dowry of their own. You talk of what is ‘pure and impure;’ but for yourselves you are always dirty. Your names for colour are contradictions; ‘akhdar’ is green and grey; ‘azrak’ is both blue and black. You call your drums trumpets;[47] and your trumpets drums.[48] In bed you wrap up your heads and leave your feet uncovered. To tell the truth, I could go on and enumerate a hundred of your vagaries, and I can only wonder that you do not stand on your heads and eat with your feet.” The incredible confusion in the ideas of this people involves the traveller in continual tedious explanations. Speke[49] complains in the same way about the geographical blunders of his retinue.

We made our way back to Nembey by the same route that we had come. Before regaining the place we very narrowly escaped coming into collision with the inhabitants of some hamlets through which we passed. The entire caravan for some days past had been placed upon reduced rations, and when some of the bearers caught sight of the manioc roots that had been planted close to the dwellings, the temptation of pulling them up was too great to be resisted. The women were highly indignant, assailed the offenders lustily, and shrieked at them with the loudest imprecations. The caravan came to a standstill. As those in the rear never knew what was happening in front, Mohammed, attended by his bodyguard, hurried up to inquire into the cause of the disturbance. Having ascertained the circumstances, he came to the resolution that it would be his best policy to make an example of the thieves. Accordingly he gave his instructions, and the delinquents received a sound thrashing with the kurbatch, while the injured women looked on with mingled satisfaction and derision.

On arriving at Nembey we found our grass camp-huts in flames, the inhabitants having set fire to them as a token of their sense of having had enough of our company. They had evidently no wish for us to tarry among them any longer. Without halting, therefore, we continued our march, recrossed the Kussumbo, and, towards dark, reached the last of the villages before the frontier wilderness, where I and my people found comfortable accommodation in a large shed belonging to the local chief. We were here informed that Wando was bent upon our destruction, the entire population of the frontier being already in arms, and the women and children having been removed to a place of safety.

Mohammed by this time had been driven, however unwillingly, to the conclusion that he had neither competent guides nor adequate provisions to enable him to carry out his original project of avoiding the enemy’s territory by taking a circuitous route to the east. There was no alternative for us except to continue our old road over the wilderness that bounded the frontier. Meanwhile, repeated showers of rain had fallen, and had contributed very much to the difficulty of crossing the swamps by making them unusually humid. So much time was occupied in conveying the caravan across the brook that bounded the Monbuttoo district that I had leisure to make a sketch of the gallery-forest, which, however, very inadequately represents the splendour of its luxuriance.[50]

The sun was still high when we made our first camp in the wilderness. We were upon the third of the gallery-brooks. Since our former visit new blossoms had unfolded themselves, and seemed to give a fresh aspect to the scene. In every quarter of the thickets, gleaming like torches, there rose the imposing clusters of the combretum, with its large bright-red bracteæ; and, as if to rival them in splendour, every branch of the spathodea put forth a _thyrsus_ of large orange-coloured balls.

[Sidenote: AFRICAN BEESWAX.]

In the midst of my enjoyment, as I was admiring the beauties all around me, I was startled by a cry, like a shout of triumph, that came from a party of our negroes who were scouring the woods in the hope of securing something good to eat. I hurried in the direction of the sound, and found the men all clustered round the stem of a tree, to which they were busily applying firebrands. Having discovered a quantity of honey in a hollow tree, they adopted the most effectual measures to secure their treasure, and very soon the honey, the wax, and the very bodies of the bees themselves were indiscriminately devoured. If any one could persuade the inhabitants of Central Africa to desist from their habit of consuming this wax, he would do no small service towards accelerating the civilization of the continent. At present, with the exception of ivory, no article of traffic from these districts repays its transport: but the inexhaustible supply of wax from these districts might be made the object of a productive trade. Hitherto Abyssinia and Benguela have been the only countries that have supplied any considerable quantities of this valuable product; yet the demand for real beeswax in the lands alone that are subject to the orthodox Greek Church, where it is the only material allowed for church lights, is almost unbounded.

The ruins of the grass-huts beside the broad meadow-water brought back to our recollection the melancholy night of rain which we had to endure upon our outward journey. The spot was, if possible, more miserable and dejected now. Neither leaves nor grass could be obtained in sufficient quantity for our need. Trees had to be felled to make a path across the swamp, and even then, go carefully as we would, the mud was much above our knees. If the enemy had been sagacious enough to attack us under those adverse circumstances, we should have fallen an easy prey.

In another two days we should pass the enemy’s border. The very expectation seemed to awaken our impatience, and we started off at early dawn. Already we could trace the footprints of our antagonists’ outposts, who had been seen some distance along the road to watch for our approach. Towards noon we came to the official declaration of war, consisting, as I have previously described, of the maize, the feather, and the arrow, hung across our path, as the emblems of defiance. There was something of the anxiety of suspense as we found ourselves at the partition brook which marked off Wando’s territory. Aware of the danger of venturing rashly into the pathless thickets, our cautious leader ordered a general halt. Small detachments were first despatched to reconnoitre and to clear the way. As soon as they had satisfied themselves that all was safe, the signal was given by the trumpets, and the column of bearers was set in motion. The crowd of women were not permitted to march as usual in single file, but for the sake of compactness were gathered in a mass and strode on, trampling down whatever vegetation came in their way; the chaos of confusion was indescribable; the shrill chatter of their voices mingled harshly with the clatter of their pots and pans; while above all rose the bellowing of the orders and the louder volley of the oaths of the Nubians, who marched on with their guns in one hand, but making good use of their rods and kurbatches with the other.

[Sidenote: A PARLEY.]

Safely through the wood, we reached an open steppe. We were in sight of the enemy’s position, and once again a halt was called. The occasional gleaming of a spear in the grass, or the waving of a plume upon a Niam-niam’s hat, made us aware that we were not far from the presence of the foe. They seemed to be in a wide semicircle, that embraced the front of our halting-ground. There was, however, something in their demeanour that appeared to indicate a desire on their part for a parley. The interpreters therefore were sent forward, the trumpeter Inglery at their head; Mohammed himself soon followed, and a conference ensued. The natives all this time took careful cognizance of the range of the Khartoomers’ guns, and did not seem disposed to approach nearer than was requisite to understand what was said.

As the parley proceeded, and we saw the parties approximate nearer to each other, we began to expect a favourable termination of the interview. It turned out that the men with whom Mohammed was treating were representatives of the districts adjoining the A-Madi, the Nabanda Yuroo. They declared that though they were subject to Wando they had really no share in his hostile intentions; they were anxious to guard themselves against the mischief that might befall them from their proximity to the scene of war, and consequently were only pleading “for their hearths and homes.” Mohammed was inclined to listen to their plea, although he was reckoning without his host. Meanwhile some of the actual belligerents arrived, and professed that they could give us a safe conduct across the country, declaring that they were well aware where Wando had deposited Mohammed’s ivory, and upon these pretexts they urged Mohammed to accept them as guides.

I could not resist making my way up to Mohammed as he stood surrounded by his guard, and giving his instructions to the interpreters, in order that I might point out to him the advantage of his position. I wanted him to understand how much better it would be to secure all these men as hostages than to trust to their promises and proposals; but he made light of my apprehensions, affirming that savages were all cowards and afraid of war, and that he had no doubt everything would come right at last.

Without further delay the A-Banga were then permitted to escort us to their villages on the other side of the brook, where, in spite of the suspicious absence of all the women and children, we received an abundant supply of provisions, and I was presented with a good store of the flesh of some eland-antelopes, which the natives had killed on the day before. In reality, these people amply deserved a thorough chastisement at our hands for the massacre of our women slaves during our outward journey, but Mohammed, under the hope of obtaining a safe transit and recovering his ivory, thought it more diplomatic to overlook the offence.

Before sunrise next morning all were in readiness to proceed. The day proved to myself to be one of the few unlucky days that marred the general good fortune that attended my enterprise. A slight mishap befell me in crossing the first brook, which was but the precursor of a more serious trouble to come. In crossing a swamp I fell into a deep quagmire, from which I scrambled out with everything upon me except my hat covered with the blackest and filthiest of mire. With all my might I shouted to my servants to bring me clean dry clothes. My outcry raised an alarm that spread to the rear. There arose an impression that I had been wounded, and in a short time half the caravan had crowded round. Order having been restored, we proceeded on our way, deviating, however, a little from our previous route, and passing numerous villages and cultivated spots. Owing to irregularities in the soil our caravan became somewhat broken, and it was deemed advisable to make a halt near the huts of the next local overseer, for the double purpose of gathering the stragglers, and of allowing an interval for the morning meal.

Starting afresh, Mohammed led the way. He was himself unarmed, but he was attended by his young armour-bearers, and followed by a detachment of his black body-guard. Next in order and close behind were the men whose mediation and offers of guidance had yesterday been accepted. Somehow or other I could not get rid of my presentiment that these fellows were not to be trusted, and accordingly, contrary to my custom, I took good care to keep my trusty rifle in my hand. It struck me as very remarkable that in the villages which we passed the men, women, and children were all assembled in crowds, and calmly watched our progress, just as though there was no rumour or thought of war.

[Sidenote: ABOO SAMMAT WOUNDED.]

After about half a league I was at the head of a column of bearers, but I had fallen some hundred paces behind Mohammed. All at once several shots fired in rapid succession made me aware that something unusual had happened in front. Looking to the right I saw some natives rushing away at full speed across the steppes; a hasty fire was opened upon the fugitives, and their savage yells of pain betrayed that some of them were wounded, although they contrived to make good their escape. Another moment and I caught sight of Mohammed being carried back towards us with a broad streak of blood across his white sash, and close beside were the two little armour-bearers writhing with their faces to the ground, their backs pierced by the native lances. It was a ghastly sight. Dashing up to Mohammed I ripped up his clothes, and discovered at a glance that my poor friend had received a deep spear-cut in his thigh. I did not lose an instant in adopting what measures I could. As fate would have it, I had a box of insect needles in my pocket. Water, of which we were always careful to have a supply, was close at hand. Mohammed’s own muslin scarf was just the thing for a bandage. Having carefully been washed, and then bound together with half-a-dozen of the strongest of the pins, and finally enveloped in the scarf and tied with yarn, the gaping wound was completely dressed, and began to heal almost as soon as it was closed.

The sad event had occurred in this way. One of the pretended guides forced his way between Mohammed and his young shield-bearers, and brandishing his lance cried out, “The people of Yuroo are for peace; _we_ are for war.” Mohammed instinctively made a sidelong movement to escape the falling blow, and thus probably saved his life. Meanwhile the other natives attacked the boys and stabbed them between the shoulders. Although Mohammed had escaped the direct blow that was designed, the huge lance, with its head a foot and a half in length, had sunk deep into his flesh. With the fortitude of desperation he dragged the murderous weapon from the wound, hurled it after the fugitive assassin, and then fell senseless to the earth. The injury caused by the barbs of the spear (which were an inch long) was miserably aggravated by the impetuous fury with which the weapon was extracted. The wound was broad and deep enough to admit my whole hand, and had only just escaped the kidney, which was visible through the open flesh.

In their first surprise at the sudden attack, Mohammed’s personal retinue had fired almost at random after the fugitive traitors; but as their guns were only loaded with deer-shot, they for the most part hit the enemy without killing them. Immediately upon this there ensued a general chase, and during the time that I was engaged in binding up Mohammed’s wound, I could hear the reports of firearms along the whole line of our procession.

And now again a halt was ordered, the columns of bearers were collected, their loads were deposited in piles upon the ground, and the signal was given for a general plunder. Joyfully enough was the order hailed; it was especially welcome to the hungry Bongo after their scanty fare on the previous days.

[Sidenote: HOSTILITIES.]

As a proof that the natives were in league together, I noticed that directly after the treacherous attack upon Mohammed, all spectators disappeared from the road; and although the Nubians, considering themselves perfectly justified in taking what slaves they could, went in pursuit of women and children, I did not see that their exertions were attended with any success. They secured a number of unfortunate boys, but they let them loose again, persecuting them with gun-shot and lances as they took to flight. The air rung with their shrieks, and it was only the long grass, I cannot doubt, that prevented my seeing not a few of these undeserving victims sink and die upon the earth.

Within an hour not only were the granaries of the villages around so effectually ransacked that abundance of corn was piled up around our quarters, but the villages themselves were involved in flames. With an expedition quite astonishing, the conical roofs were removed from the nearest huts and employed in the construction of an improvised camp for ourselves, which was subsequently surrounded by a substantial abattis. The woodwork from the adjacent dwellings furnished the material for this defence, which we presumed might be necessary in case of attack.