Ismailia

I resolved that, if hostilities should continue, I would proclaim Rionga representative of the government, as vassal-chief of Unyoro, in the room of Kabba Rega, deposed.

Rionga would send a letter to warn Major Abdullah at Fatiko; but how was I to convey my baggage and ammunition from Masindi to Foweera, without a single carrier, or even a guide?

It was the height of the rainy season, and the grass was about nine or ten feet high, throughout a country of dense and tangled forest.

I had no interpreter of my own; Umbogo was Kabba Rega's slave, and although I fancied that he was fond of us, I had no faith in any one of these detestable people. This want of confidence was keenly felt at a time when I required an interpreter in whom I could absolutely trust. I was obliged to confide my plan to Umbogo, as I wished him to find some man among the natives who would take a message to Rionga.

I knew that many people hated Kabba Rega. Umbogo had frequently assured me that Mashudi, which was only two days distant from Masindi, to the south-east, had always been Rionga's stronghold; and that the natives of that district would rise in favour of their chief, should any reverse befall Kabba Rega.

The news of the defeat of his army, and the complete destruction of his capital, would run through the country like wild-fire. It was well known that Rionga had spies, who were disguised as friends, even at the court of Kabba Rega; these agents sent him information of all that occurred.

If Umbogo could communicate with one of these people, I might send off to Rionga, and beg him to send 300 men to Fatiko, with a letter from myself to Major Abdullah. Rionga's people would transport the effects instead of Rabba Rega's carriers, who would be seized and held as hostages. This would save Abdullah from the intended treachery, if it were done at once; but there was not a moment to lose.

Already fifteen days had elapsed since my party with the post had started, and by this time they should be near Fatiko, (at that time they had already been treacherously attacked.) unless they had been delayed upon the road, as was usual in Unyoro.

If I could depend upon Rionga, he would at once save Abdullah's party, and he would send a large force to communicate with me at Masindi.

Had I provisions, I could have held my now fortified position against a whole world of niggers; but with only a hundred men, I should be unable to forage in this country of high grass, and at the same time defend the station.

All depended upon the possibility of my communication with Rionga.

Umbogo declared that if I would only march to Mashudi, the natives would rise in his favour and join me.

I told him that if this were true, he could surely find some person who would run to Mashudi, and raise the malcontents, who would at once carry my message to Rionga.

Umbogo promised to do his best: at the same time he expressed an opinion that Rionga would not wait long in inaction, but that he would invade Kabba Rega directly that he should hear of the war. From my experience of natives, I did not share his opinion.

As Kittakara had apologized for the attack to Colonel Abd-el-Kader, and a truce had been arranged, a great number of natives spread themselves over the ruins of the town, to search for the iron molotes, which are generally concealed in the earth, beneath the floor of the huts. The natives were all prodding the smoking ground with the iron-tipped butt-ends of their lances to discover the treasures.

Umbogo now went among them with his guard, and conversed upon the cause of the late attack.

In the evening, Umbogo declared that he was not quite certain of the truth; he evidently suspected the sincerity of Kabba Rega. It was quite impossible to procure any messenger at present that could be trusted with a message to Rionga.

The memorable 8th of June happened to be my birthday. It had been the day of death to my lamented follower, Monsoor; but we had well avenged him.

Umbogo reported that the natives had given him the names of nine matongales (chiefs) killed in the action, together with a large number of common people. A great many were still missing: these were probably lying in the high grass which had been raked by the hot fire of the sniders. Vultures were collected in immense numbers over many spots in this dense covert, which denoted the places where the "missing" had fallen.

I ordered the troops to abandon their undefended camp, and to sleep within the fort that night.

The morning of the 9th of June arrived—the night had passed in perfect quiet.

My troops set to work with their sharp sword-bayonets, swords, knives, &c., to cut down all the high grass in the neighbourhood, so as to throw open the view, and prevent the enemy from attacking us by another surprise. They worked for many hours, and soon found a number of the missing, who were lying dead. Five bodies were discovered close together, as though they had been killed by a shell. This was in a spot where the "Forty Thieves" had been at work.

One unfortunate creature was found in the high grass with a smashed leg. He had been lying, thirsty and in pain, for about thirty hours in the same spot. My men gave him water and food, and his friends came and took him away. The wounded man seemed very grateful, and he told my soldiers that they were "better men than the Unyoros, who would certainly murder a wounded enemy instead of giving him food and water."

I had told Umbogo to make inquiries as to the safety of little Cherri-Merri. The boy was unharmed, as he had been taken away before the fight.

It was now proved that the cows had also been removed during the night previous to the attack, as I had suspected.

During the day, vast number of people were collected at a large village, situated on a knoll, about 700 yards from our station in a direct line. This place, we were informed, was now occupied by Kabba Rega. The knoll was about eighty feet lower than our high position; therefore, as we had roughly cut down the grass, we looked directly upon the village.

We lost no time in erecting the large astronomical telescope upon its stand. This was placed upon the flat gravel approach in front of the government divan, and through the powerful glass we could distinguish each feature, and the expression of every individual countenance of the crowd within the village.

During the day, messengers arrived from Kabba Rega with an official explanation of the misunderstanding. They declared that it was entirely the fault of Matonse, who would be soon captured; that Kabba Rega desired them to express his deep regret; "Was he not my son? Did he not depend upon the protection of his father?" He only begged for peace. The natives had been killed in great numbers; therefore "if we had lost a few soldiers, the Unyoro had lost many—so the affair was settled."

I told them that nothing could ever compensate for the loss of Monsoor, who had been so treacherously killed; at the same time, if Kabba Rega could prove that the guilt really lay with Matonse, the simple plan would be to deliver him up to me.

I recalled to their recollection how I had passed ten months in Unyoro in the reign of Kamrasi, at which time I had only an escort of thirteen men, and no misunderstanding had ever occurred. I explained that the fault was not on my side. An attempt had been made to poison us collectively; we had then been surprised by a thoroughly organized attack, at a time when the troops were supposed to have been disabled by the poison.

Kabba Rega must clear his character. If he were innocent, I should be only too happy.

The matongale, or sheik, who was the principal messenger, assured me that Kabba Rega was quite in despair, and that he had given orders for provisions and a large quantity of ivory to be collected, which would be sent to us on the day following, in charge of Rahonka and Kittakara.

The want of provisions was sorely felt; fortunately, as our cows had been dying daily, the troops had some sweet potatoes that had been purchased in exchange for flesh. These would last for a few days.

A short time before the attack, I had promised to send Kabba Rega a porcelain cache-pot. I therefore took the opportunity of reminding the sheik of my promise, and I begged him to deliver the piece of china to Kabba Rega as a proof of my peaceful intentions, should he really be innocent of the treachery.

The handsome present was wrapped up in red Turkey cloth, and the messengers departed.

I watched them through the telescope, and, upon their arrival at the village below us, I distinctly witnessed, not only their reception by the expectant crowd, but the cache-pot was unpacked and held at arm's length above the head, to be exhibited to the admiring people.

This looked well. My officers began to believe in peace; and, although I still had strong suspicions, I hoped that the signal defeat which Kabba Rega's army had sustained had so far cowed them as to induce a termination of hostilities, that would enable me to communicate with Major Abdullah.

The luggage from the government divan had all been carried to the fort. This was now returned to our original quarters; my wife and her black maids were working hard at rearranging the rooms.

The night passed quietly.

On 10th of June a matongale and several natives arrived from Kabba Rega, with a most polite message and friendly assurances, accompanied by a present of two beautiful white cows.

The messengers corroborated the statement of the preceding day, that large quantities of provisions were being prepared for us, together with twenty elephants' tusks, which were to be delivered as a peace-offering by Rahonka and Kittakara in person.

Affairs looked brighter. It was my best policy to secure peace if possible.

I determined to send Kabba Rega, in return for his present of cows, the large Geneva musical box, with drums and bells, which he had always desired.

No one knew how to wind it up; and it was necessary that some person should accompany it with the native messengers.

The clerk of the detachment, Ramadan, who has already been mentioned as a favourite with the natives, and a good linguist, at once volunteered to be the bearer of the present. Since the battle of Masindi, Ramadan had been in frequent personal communication with the natives, and he assured me that there was a general desire for peaceful relations. He was supposed to be a favourite of Kabba Rega's, and it was therefore arranged that he should accompany the musical box, which was a good load for a fast-travelling native.

Hafiz, the farrier, whose occupation was nearly gone by the death of all the horses but two, volunteered to accompany Ramadan. I ordered them to go unarmed, as their peaceful mission would be at once understood; this fact would establish confidence among the natives.

It was about 3 P.M. when they started, and we watched their arrival in the village with the telescope, where they appeared to be well received.

In the evening they both returned with the musical box, accompanied by the sheik who was to be their guide, as Kabba Rega had retired to a town at which he had a residence, about half a day's march distant. It was arranged that they should start on the following morning.

On the 11th June, Ramadan and Hafiz, together with the musical box, started, and we watched their reception at the village with the telescope. I had released Umbogo, whom I had sent to Kabba Rega to explain all that he had seen of the outbreak, as he was one of those that had been poisoned by the plaintain cider. Umbogo promised to return as soon as possible. The dragoman, Abou Kooka, remained with us in the place of Umbogo. This was a sullen-looking brute who had been a slave stolen from the Madi tribe.

I must now take an extract verbatim from my journal, that was written on the day of the incident. Any warm expressions in this extract must be excused as a natural consequence, for which I trust due allowance will be granted:—