Ismailia

I now scoured the immediate neighbourhood, and discovered a quantity of dhurra that was just ripened. This was immediately gathered as a great prize.

During this interval, my men had been engaged in a most barbarous ceremony, that perfectly disgusted me.

These superstitious people had an idea, that every bullet they might fire would kill an Unyoro, if they could only devour a portion of their enemy's liver.

They had accordingly cut out the liver of the dead man, and having divided it among them, they positively HAD EATEN IT—raw! They had then cut the body into pieces with their sword-bayonets, and had disposed them upon the limbs of various bushes that overhung the path, as a warning to any Unyoros who should attempt to follow us.

I would not have believed that my "Forty Thieves", whom I had considered to be nearly civilized, could have committed such a barbarity. The truth was, that in the high grass they could not see the effect of their shots; therefore they imagined that the horrid rite of eating an enemy's liver would give a fatal direction to a random bullet.

We marched, and having had several encounters with the enemy in jungle, if possible worse than before, we halted at Kaseega.

One of my best men, Serroor, had a narrow escape; a lance went through his neck, almost grazing the jugular vein.

On 19th June, we marched at 6.5 A.M. This was one of the worst journeys, as the ravines were numerous, and the forest dark and tangled. It was difficult for our solitary horse (Jamoos) to carry his load, as it became continually hooked in the hanging loops of the wild vines. We were quickly attacked by various ambuscades, in one of which my wife suffered the loss of a great favourite. This was poor little Jarvah, who went by the name of the "fat boy." Two spears struck the unhappy lad at the same moment one of which pinned both his legs as though upon a spit; the other went through his body. This loss completely upset my wife, as the unfortunate Jarvah had upon several occasions endeavoured to protect her from danger. He was killed only a few paces behind her.

In one of the ambuscades, just as the enemy had been repulsed, Faddul, the strongest man in the "Forty Thieves", who was close to me, carrying his knapsack on his back, his rifle slung across his shoulders, and a box of 500 snider cartridges (64 lbs.) upon his head, walked up to me during the halt and reported himself as badly wounded.

A spear had struck him obliquely in the posterior, and had taken a direction towards the groin. The nian was literally bathed in blood, which ran from him in such a stream that a large pool was formed at his feet as he stood before me.

The instant that the box of snider ammunition was taken from his head, he fell apparently lifeless to the ground.

I thought that he had bled to death.

His rifle and knapsack were removed, and I examined his pulse and heart! I could not feel any movement. All I could do was to pour some brandy very slowly down his throat, and to leave him on the side of the path as another good man lost to the expedition.

We marched forward, and in about ten minutes we arrived at an open field of sweet potatoes. The change from dark jungle and dense grasses of giant height to the fresh and clear space cannot be understood, unless by those who experienced the difficulties of the march.

I halted the advance-guard in the centre of the open field, and waited for the rear to close up.

As it arrived, I saw a man staggering forward, supported by two soldiers. Upon nearer approach, I recognized my strong friend, Faddul, thus risen front the dead! The brandy had revived him sufficiently to show some signs of life, and the rear-guard had thus brought him along with them. We laid him down to rest beneath a tree that grew in the middle of the cultivation.

We were now in a sad difficulty. There were numerous roads, or rather very narrow paths, which converged from all quarters upon this potato ground. No one knew the direction. The Baris were completely at fault. The farther the people explored the immediate neighbourhood, the more helpless they became.

This was a serious matter. Up to the present time we had been most fortunate in keeping to the right path.

I now called my renowned pathfinder, Abdullah, of "The Forty".

Abdullah made a survey of the surrounding tracks, and then returned to me with the news that he had discovered the route. This he immediately pointed out.

A general exclamation of derision from the officers and many of the men was the only reward Abdullah received for his important discovery, as his path was in quite an opposite direction to the route they had anticipated.

The compass corroborated Abdullah's road, but before I adopted it, I asked him why he declared so positively that he knew the way? He replied, that when on the march from Foweera, he had observed a peculiarly-shaped tree, upon which was fastened a native cojoor, or spell. That tree was on rising ground above a ravine, and he could now show me both the ravine and the magic tree.

I accompanied him to the spot, and certainly the tree was there, with some pieces of ragged bark-cloth and some grass tied to the stem. I had often seen talismans that were fastened to the trees, and I suggested to Abdullah that there were many of them along the road. He was so confident in accepting every responsibility as guide, that I followed him without hesitation, and the march continued. The wounded Faddul was supported as before.

In a short time I myself recognized the path as being very near to Kisoona, which place we suddenly entered after a march of thirty-five minutes from the potato field. The advance-guard fired a volley at some natives, who rushed into the grass upon our unexpected arrival.

We were now in open ground, with good native huts for shelter, and a large extent of cultivation, where an unlimited supply of potatoes could be obtained.

As the rear-guard closed up, I mustered all officers and men. Having spoken a few words of encouragement, and complimented them upon their extreme steadiness since I had lectured them at Chorobeze, I congratulated them upon having advanced so far, under God's protection, through such numberless enemies, with comparatively so little loss. We were now only twenty-one miles from Foweera, and we knew the road. The news of our arrival would almost immediately reach Rionga, and I should fortify this spot and remain here for some days to allow my wounded to recover their strength. During this time all hands would be employed in preparing potatoes for store, by cutting them in slices and drying them in the sun.

I now ordered the band to strike up with the greatest vigour, to show the natives who might be within hearing, that we were in the best of spirits.

My officers and men were all delighted, and overwhelmed me with compliments. I only replied by begging them always to trust in God, and to do their duty.

I immediately started off a party to dig potatoes, while Lieutenant Baker and myself, with a number of men, slashed down with sabres the extensive grove of plantain trees, so as to have a perfectly clear space around the camp.

We made a strong defence at Kisoona, and the rest of several days was invigorating to the wounded men, and enabled my wife's feet to recover sufficiently to continue the march on the 23rd June.

I had arranged that the drums and bugles should sound the morning call at 5 A.M. daily, as though in a permanent camp. This was to assist me in a plan for avoiding ambuscades on the day of marching from Kisoona.

On the 22nd I gave orders that every man should be ready to march punctually at 5 A.M., the instant that the morning call should have sounded.

The natives, hearing the call to which they had been daily accustomed, would have no suspicion of our intended departure; therefore they would not have sufficient time to organize and man their ambuscades.

On the morning of the 23rd June we silently evacuated the camp in the semi-darkness, the instant that the drums and bugles had ceased, and thus obtained an excellent start that saved us much trouble. The attacks later in the day were feebler than usual, and after a march of fourteen miles we arrived at a well of water at 2.5 P.M., at which spot we halted for the night. During this march we had only one man wounded.

We were now within Rionga's country, but I nevertheless made a defence of thorns and branches of trees for the night.

On 24th June we started at 6.5 A.M., and after a march of seven miles, during which we were undisturbed, we arrived at the old camp of Suleiman's company at Foweera on the Victoria Nile, where we had expected to find shelter and good houses.

Everything had been destroyed by fire! Nothing remained but blackened ashes.

CHAPTER XXIII

BUILD A STOCKADE AT FOWEERA

MY losses from the 8th June to the 24th had been ten killed and eleven wounded. Every officer and soldier had thoroughly done his duty, having displayed admirable coolness and courage upon many trying occasions. None but black troops could have endured the march of about eighty miles with heavy weights upon their heads, in addition to their usual accoutrements.

I at once set to work to build a new station, and with the old wood that had formed the fence of Suleiman's zareeba, I commenced a defensive arrangement.

There was very little heavy timber that was adapted for a stockade. I therefore formed a protection by sinking deep in the ground, at intervals of three feet, two strong posts about seven feet above the surface. These upright timbers, standing opposite to each other at a distance of about ten inches, were filled with long poles laid one over the other horizontally. At two corners of the square fort were flanking works of the same construction, which would sweep each face of the defence.

In a few days my men had completed a strong and neat stockade around a number of small temporary huts which formed our new station.

Having thus housed my troops, it was necessary to prepare for the future. I fully expected that Major Abdullah had fallen into the snare prepared for him by Kabba Rega: thus I should have no other force to rely upon, except the few men that now formed my small but tough little party. If so terrible a calamity should have occurred as the destruction of Abdullah's detachment, I should not only have lost my men, but I should become short of ammunition; as my stores and arms would have fallen into the hands of the enemy. This doubt caused me much grave anxiety.

It was strange that we had not received some communication from Rionga, whose island was only fifteen or sixteen miles above stream from Foweera. Our side of the river appeared to be quite uninhabited, and simply consisted of the interminable groves of bananas, that had belonged to the inhabitants at a time when the district had been thickly populated.

The Victoria Nile, opposite the Foweera station, was about 500 yards wide. At this season the river was full. The huts that we had erected on the north side, upon our arrival from Fatiko, had been destroyed by the natives. This did not look as though much friendship existed.

Upon hearing our drums and bugles on the day of our arrival at Foweera, a few natives had come to the high rock opposite, and had commenced, bawling conversation, and that was only slightly understood by one of our women and Molodi the Madi.

Molodi knew Rionga, as he had visited him at a former time, together with a party of Abou Saood's people. His very slight knowledge of the language was sufficient to explain to the natives across the river that I wished to communicate with Rionga.

The people on the north happened to belong to Kabba Rega, and they were enemies of Rionga; thus we were addressing the wrong parties.

It was highly necessary to make some arrangements for crossing the river. There are no canoes on this side, and it would be dangerous to trust to rafts, as there were waterfalls about three or four hundred yards below upon our left. I determined to construct boats.