The Mammoth Book of Travel in Dangerous Places (43 page)

T
he day of starting at length arrived; the chief and guide appeared, and we were led along the banks of the Kafoor for about a mile, until we
arrived at a cluster of huts; here we were to wait for Kamrasi, who had promised to take leave of us. The sun was overpowering and we dismounted from our oxen, and took shelter in a
blacksmith’s shed. In about an hour Kamrasi arrived, attended by a considerable number of men, and took his seat in our shed. I felt convinced that his visit was simply intended to peel the
last skin from the onion. I had already given him nearly all that I had, but he hoped to extract the whole before I should depart.

He almost immediately commenced the conversation by asking for a pretty yellow muslin Turkish handkerchief fringed with silver drops that Mrs. Baker wore upon her head: one of these had already
been given to him, and I explained that this was the last remaining, and that she required it. . . . He “must” have it. . . . It was given. He then demanded other handkerchiefs. We had
literally nothing but a few most ragged towels; he would accept no excuse, and insisted upon a portmanteau being unpacked, that he might satisfy himself by actual inspection. The luggage, all ready
for the journey, had to be unstrapped and examined, and the rags were displayed in succession; but so wretched and uninviting was the exhibition of the family linen, that he simply returned them,
and said “they did not suit him.” Beads he must have, or I was “his enemy.” A selection of the best opal beads was immediately given him. I rose from the stone upon which I
was sitting, and declared that we must start immediately. “Don’t be in a hurry,” he replied; “you have plenty of time; but you have not given me that watch you promised
me.” . . . This was my only watch that he had begged for, and had been refused every day during my stay at M’rooli. So pertinacious a beggar I had never seen. I explained to him that,
without the watch, my journey would be useless, but that I would give him all that I had except the watch when the exploration should be completed, as I should require nothing on my direct return
to Gondokoro. At the same time, I repeated to him the arrangement for the journey that he had promised, begging him not to deceive me, as my wife and I should both die if we were compelled to
remain another year in this country by losing the annual boats in Gondokoro. The understanding was this: he was to give me porters to the lake, where I was to be furnished with canoes to take me to
Magungo, which was situated at the junction of the Somerset. From Magungo he told me that I should see the Nile issuing from the lake close to the spot where the Somerset entered, and that the
canoes should take me down the river, and porters should carry my effects from the nearest point to Shooa, and deliver me at my old station without delay. Should he be faithful to this engagement,
I trusted to procure porters from Shooa, and to reach Gondokoro in time for the annual boats. I had arranged that a boat should be sent from Khartoum to await me at Gondokoro early in this year,
1864; but I felt sure that should I be long delayed, the boat would return without me, as the people would be afraid to remain alone at Gondokoro after the other boats had quitted.

In our present weak state another year of Central Africa without quinine appeared to warrant death; it was a race against time, all was untrodden ground before us, and the distance quite
uncertain. I trembled for my wife, and weighed the risk of another year in this horrible country should we lose the boats. With the self-sacrificing devotion that she had shown in every trial, she
implored me not to think of any risks on her account, but to push forward and discover the lake – that she had determined not to return until she had herself reached the “M’wootan
N’zigé.”

I now requested Kamrasi to allow us to take leave, as we had not an hour to lose. In the coolest manner he replied, “I will send you to the lake and to Shooa, as I have promised; but,
you must leave your wife with me!”

At that moment we were surrounded by a great number of natives, and my suspicions of treachery at having been led across the Kafoor river appeared confirmed by this insolent demand. If this were
to be the end of the expedition I resolved that it should also be the end of Kamrasi, and, drawing my revolver quietly, I held it within two feet of his chest, and looking at him with undisguised
contempt, I told him that if I touched the trigger, not all his men could save him: and that if he dared to repeat the insult I would shoot him on the spot. At the same time I explained to him that
in my country such insolence would entail bloodshed, and that I looked upon him as an ignorant ox who knew no better, and that this excuse alone could save him. My wife, naturally indignant, had
risen from her seat, and, maddened with the excitement of the moment, she made him a little speech in Arabic (not a word of which he understood), with a countenance almost as amiable as the head of
Medusa. Altogether the
mise en scène
utterly astonished him; the woman Bacheeta, although savage, had appropriated the insult to her mistress, and she also fearlessly let fly at
Kamrasi, translating as nearly as she could the complimentary address that “Medusa” had just delivered.

Whether this little
coup de théâtre
had so impressed Kamrasi with British female independence that he wished to be off his bargain, I cannot say, but with an air of complete
astonishment, he said, “Don’t be angry! I had no intention of offending you by asking for your wife; I will give you a wife, if you want one, and I thought you might have no objection
to give me yours; it is my custom to give my visitors pretty wives, and I thought you might exchange. Don’t make a fuss about it; if you don’t like it, there’s an end of it; I
will never mention it again.” This very practical apology I received very sternly, and merely insisted upon starting. He seemed rather confused at having committed himself, and to make amends
he called his people and ordered them to carry our loads. His men ordered a number of women, who had assembled out of curiosity, to shoulder the luggage and carry it to the next village, where they
would be relieved. I assisted my wife upon her ox, and with a very cold adieu to Kamrasi, I turned my back most gladly on M’rooli.

The start from M’rooli for the lake, with Kamrasi’s escort. From
The Albert Nyanza, Great Basin of the Nile and Explorations of the Nile Sources,
London,
1867.

The country was a vast flat of grass land interspersed with small villages and patches of sweet potatoes; these were very inferior, owing to the want of drainage. For about two miles we
continued on the banks of the Kafoor river; the women who carried the luggage were straggling in disorder, and my few men were much scattered in their endeavours to collect them. We approached a
considerable village; but just as we were nearing it, out rushed about six hundred men with lances and shields, screaming and yelling like so many demons. For the moment, I thought it was an
attack, but almost immediately I noticed that women and children were mingled with the men. My men had not taken so cool a view of the excited throng that was now approaching us at full speed,
brandishing their spears, and engaging with each other in mock combat. “There’s a fight! – there’s a fight!” my men exclaimed; “we are attacked! fire at them,
Hawaga.” However, in a few seconds I persuaded them that it was a mere parade, and that there was no danger. With a rush, like a cloud of locusts, the natives closed around us, dancing,
gesticulating, and yelling before my ox, feigning to attack us with spears and shields, then engaging in sham fights with each other, and behaving like so many madmen. A very tall chief accompanied
them; and one of their men was suddenly knocked down, and attacked by the crowd with sticks and lances, and lay on the ground covered with blood: what his offence had been I did not hear. The
entire crowd were most grotesquely got up, being dressed in either leopard or white monkey skins, with cow’s tails strapped on behind, and antelopes’ horns fitted upon their heads,
while their chins were ornamented with false beards, made of the bushy ends of cows’ tails sewed together. Altogether, I never saw a more unearthly set of creatures; they were perfect
illustrations of my childish ideas of devils – horns, tails, and all, excepting the hoofs; they were our escort! furnished by Kamrasi to accompany us to the lake.

We marched till 7 p.m. over flat, uninteresting country, and then halted at a miserable village which the people had deserted, as they expected our arrival. The following morning I found much
difficulty in getting our escort together, as they had been foraging throughout the neighbourhood; these “devil’s own” were a portion of Kamrasi’s troops, who considered
themselves entitled to plunder
ad libitum
throughout the march; however, after some delay, they collected, and their tall chief approached me, and begged that a gun might be fired as a
curiosity. The escort had crowded around us, and as the boy Saat was close to me, I ordered him to fire his gun. This was Saat’s greatest delight, and bang went one barrel unexpectedly, close
to the tall chief’s ear. The effect was charming. The tall chief, thinking himself injured, clasped his head with both hands, and bolted through the crowd, which, struck with a sudden panic,
rushed away in all directions, the “devil’s own” tumbling over each other, and utterly scattered by the second barrel which Saat exultingly fired in derision as Kamrasi’s
warlike regiment dissolved before a sound. I felt quite sure, that in the event of a fight, one scream from the “Baby,” with its charge of forty small bullets, would win the battle, if
well delivered into a crowd of Kamrasi’s troops.

That afternoon, after a march through a most beautiful forest of large mimosas in full blossom, we arrived at the morass that had necessitated this great
détour
from our direct
course to the lake. It was nearly three-quarters of a mile broad, and so deep, that in many places the oxen were obliged to swim; both Mrs. Baker and I were carried across on our angareps by twelve
men with the greatest difficulty; the guide, who waded before us to show the way, suddenly disappeared in a deep hole, and his bundle that he had carried on his head, being of light substance, was
seen floating like a buoy upon the surface; after a thorough sousing, the guide reappeared, and scrambled out, and we made a circuit, the men toiling frequently up to their necks through mud and
water. On arrival at the opposite side we continued through the same beautiful forest, and slept that night at a deserted village, M’Bazé.

The next day we were much annoyed by our native escort; instead of attending to us, they employed their time in capering and dancing about, screaming and gesticulating, and suddenly rushing off
in advance whenever we approached a village, which they plundered before we could arrive. In this manner every place was stripped; nor could we procure anything to eat unless by purchasing it for
beads from the native escort. We slept at Karché.

We were both ill, but were obliged to ride through the hottest hours of the sun, as our followers were never ready to start at an early hour in the morning. The native escort were perfectly
independent, and so utterly wild and savage in their manner, that they appeared more dangerous than the general inhabitants of the country. My wife was extremely anxious, since the occasion of
Kamrasi’s “proposal,” as she was suspicious that so large an escort as three hundred men had been given for some treacherous purpose, and that I should perhaps be waylaid to
enable them to steal her for the king. I had not the slightest fear of such an occurrence, as sentries were always on guard during the night, and I was well prepared during the day.

On the following morning we had the usual difficulty in collecting porters, those of the preceding day having absconded, and others were recruited from distant villages by the native escort, who
enjoyed the excuse of hunting for porters, as it gave them an opportunity of foraging throughout the neighbourhood. During this time we had to wait until the sun was high; we thus lost the cool
hours of morning, and it increased our fatigue. Having at length started, we arrived in the afternoon at the Kafoor river, at a bend from the south where it was necessary to cross over in our
westerly course. The stream was in the centre of a marsh, and although deep, it was so covered with thickly-matted water-grass and other aquatic plants, that a natural floating bridge was
established by a carpet of weeds about two feet thick: upon this waving and unsteady surface the men ran quickly across, sinking merely to the ankles, although beneath the tough vegetation there
was deep water. It was equally impossible to ride or to be carried over this treacherous surface; thus I led the way, and begged Mrs. Baker to follow me on foot as quickly as possible, precisely in
my track. The river was about eighty yards wide, and I had scarcely completed a fourth of the distance and looked back to see if my wife followed close to me, when I was horrified to see her
standing in one spot, and sinking gradually through the weeds, while her face was distorted and perfectly purple. Almost as soon as I perceived her, she fell, as though shot dead. In an instant I
was by her side; and with the assistance of eight or ten of my men, who were fortunately close to me, I dragged her like a corpse through the yielding vegetation, and up to our waists we scrambled
across to the other side, just keeping her head above the water: to have carried her would have been impossible, as we should all have sunk together through the weeds. I laid her under a tree, and
bathed her head and face with water, as for the moment I thought she had fainted; but she lay perfectly insensible, as though dead, with teeth and hands firmly clenched, and her eyes open, but
fixed. It was a
coup de soleil.