Ismailia

They had delayed so many days on the road, that the stock of flour intended for the whole journey would have failed, had they not spared their supply, and fed upon potatoes whenever they halted near cultivated ground.

On one occasion, a number of their men had as usual gone off to forage, and were employed in digging sweet potatoes, when they were suddenly attacked by the natives concealed in the high grass, and eleven men were speared; five of my troops, and six of the irregulars. Fortunately some of these men had fired their muskets before they died, and the reports alarmed the remainder of the party, who were in a small village. There was not a native to be seen, but the drums and horns were sounding, and as the Victoria Nile was close at hand, they considered it would be advisable to cross the river before the natives should attack them in force.

It was necessary to release Suleiman, who was secured in a sheba. This man had been committed to the charge of Mohammed. Before Mohammed cut the raw hide strip which secured the forked pole, he made Suleiman swear by the prophet not to escape, but that he would deliver himself up to Major Abdullah at Fatiko.

The party, now reduced to twenty-five men, immediately started. Upon arrival at the banks of the river, they happened to come suddenly upon a native, whom they seized.

They soon observed a canoe on the other side of the river, in which were two men. They now made an arrangement for the capture of the canoe, which was to them a case of life or death.

The prisoner was dressed in the usual flowing robe of bark-cloth. His hands were tied behind him, and one of the party who could speak the language now concealed himself behind the bark-cloth robe, and holding the native tightly by the arms, he threatened him with instant death unless he called the two natives in the canoe.

At first he hesitated, but fearing the knife at his back, the point of which just pricked him to let him know that it was ready, he shouted to the men in the boat.

"Say you have a number of plantains, and you want to take them across the river," whispered his invisible prompter from behind.

The natives in the canoe hesitated. "Say you will give them each a bunch of plantains if they will ferry you over," again whispered the cunning Arab.

The canoe now pushed off from the bank, and paddled towards the apparently solitary native.

The irregulars were concealed in the high grass close to the bank, and as the canoe touched the shore, they shot the two natives dead, and immediately secured it.

They now unlashed the arms of the prisoner, and insisted upon his paddling the canoe across the river. Two journeys were necessary. The first was successful, and the regular troops, together with the post and Suleiman and others, were safely landed. During the second journey, as the canoe was passing a rock above some dangerous rapids, the native suddenly upset the boat by throwing his weight quickly to one side, and plunged the whole party in the river. Some of them were carried over the cataracts and drowned. The others, including Ali Genninar, were good swimmers, and they reached the shore.

Although the irregulars thoroughly knew the country, they now found themselves in the immense wilderness that separates Unyoro from the Shooli and Madi tribes.

In this sea of high grass they wandered for some days, lost; until they at length discovered the regular path, and, after great suffering, reached Fatiko.

Eddrees, who had been appointed vakeel, became a traitor, and upon meeting Abou Saood and his people, who had come out to receive the party upon their arrival, he cried out, "Look sharp for your neck, Abou Saood: the Pacha has sent an order to arrest you."

A short time after this, Eddrees died of dysentery. Suleiman behaved in an honourable manner. Instead of going into Abou Saood's camp, he immediately presented himself before Major Abdullah, and confessed his sins, acknowledging that he had been justly punished. He surrendered himself into the hands of the commandant, according to the oath he had taken on the road.

Although Major Abdullah had now received the post, together with my orders, he thought it advisable, considering the danger of a collision with Abou Saood's people, to allow Suleiman his liberty on parole, and he had returned to his position of vakeel at Fabbo. Ali Genninar had at once offered to continue his duties as a government soldier.

A few days after the arrival of the post, the news was brought of the battle of Masindi, and that our escape from Unyoro was impossible.

The almost open hostility of Abou Saood and his numerous forces had paralyzed Major Abdullah, who, fearing the responsibility of an outbreak, kept quiet, and trusted in Providence, until I had fortunately appeared.

There can be no doubt that the plan laid by Kabba Rega for securing the arms and effects of Major Abdullah and his detachment broke down through a premature attack on the part of the natives, who had neither the courage nor the patience to go to Fatiko on the chance of success in such a distant enterprise.

Suleiman had written me a letter imploring forgiveness. Wat-el-Mek arrived at Fatiko after the seizure of the ammunition by Salim-Wat-Howah, and he begged pardon for Suleiman, assuring me that he was truly penitent; that the devil had misled him, and Abou Saood was that devil. If I would grant him a free pardon, no man would be more faithful; and the irregular force now established would be delighted at such an act of clemency.

Although Suleiman was a great ruffian, he was like everybody else in that respect. If I had refused the enlistment of all immoral characters in the middle of Africa, I should have had what is now known in England as a "skeleton regiment." I had already punished him severely. In every case of defiance of the government, the people had seen that so small an organized force as 200 regulars, amongst innumerable enemies, and without any communication with head-quarters, had been able to beat down and crush every enemy, whether native or rebel. In times of real weakness, it is frequently necessary to be severe, that a grave example may establish authority; but after victory and success, I felt that an act of clemency might, even among half savages, be more binding than fetters.

I therefore told Wat-el-Mek that I could not give any promise until Suleiman should present himself before me at Fatiko. It was his duty to deliver himself up as a prisoner upon parole.

On 3rd October Wat-el-Mek arrived at Fatiko accompanied by Suleiman, who came to surrender.

The prisoner was dressed in a filthy brown woollen cloak, and his head was covered with a greasy and almost black tarboosh he had the appearance of having slept on a dust-heap. This beggarly outside was a token of repentance and humiliation.

Suleiman was brought before me, and he immediately rushed forward and knelt to kiss my feet, exhibiting at the same time considerable emotion; which surprised me, as he was notorious as a stern, hard-hearted Kurd.

I said a few words to him, explaining that he must not think me impenetrable if I doubted his sincerity, as I had been already deceived, after having shown him much kindness; yet the same time I did not wish to exert severity, if I could win him to obedience by good advice. (Suleiman always remained faithful from that moment, and became a dependable officer.) I offered him a free pardon if he would swear upon the Koran fidelity to the Khedive. Should he deceive me, and become a rebel after this, he knew the consequences.

Suleiman now declared, and swore upon the Koran, that he had acted only upon orders he had received from Abou Saood. It was he who, in spite of my written command that the sheik Werdella should be spared, had ordered two of his slaves to take him from the Fabbo zareeba, and to cut his throat.

Both Wat-el-Mek and Suleiman, as late vakeels of Abou Saood, swore to their written evidence, to which they attached their seals in the presence of witnesses, that Abou Saood had given orders to his vakeels to harry the country and to capture slaves and cattle; that none of the people employed by him received wages in money, but that they were invariably paid in slaves, valued at a certain sum.

"All the opposition that I had met with had been caused by Abou Saood."

Suleiman, having received a written pardon, made his salaam and retired. An hour later he was washed beautifully clean, and was gorgeously dressed in a Turkish costume of light blue woollen cloth, trimmed with gold and black braid, with a new tarboosh, a handsome silk shawl in thick folds around his waist, and his sabre dangling by his side. This sudden metamorphosis from dirt and ashes to dazzling attire was symbolical of disgrace and humiliation succeeded by pardon and restoration to office.

Suleiman was to continue as vakeel of the Fabbo station, under the command of Wat-el-Mek. In the magazines of Fabbo were 3,200 elephants' tusks. These, I had no doubt, would be confiscated by the Khedive.

A short time before the arrival of Suleiman, an extraordinary incident had occurred at the Fatiko camp.

One morning, when the bugles blew the usual call, it was discovered that the prisoner Lazim had escaped, although he had been secured in irons.

Fortunately, it had rained slightly during the night; thus it would not be difficult to track his footsteps. I immediately sent for Shooli and Gimoro, whose village was only 700 yards distant, to whom I promised a reward of a cow, should they succeed in capturing the escaped felon. They quickly got upon the track of the fugitive, and followed like bloodhounds.

I have already described this fellow Lazim as having been one of the ringleaders in the rebellion of the slave-hunters; and he was almost as notorious a character as Ali Hussein. He was originally himself a slave, and had escaped from his master at Khartoum many years ago, after which he became one of the most determined slave-hunters.

I felt sure that it would have been impossible for him to have escaped without the connivance of the sentry. I therefore ordered all the soldiers that had formed the various night-guards over the prisoner to be brought before me. As they stood in line, I simply told them that "the prisoner had escaped, and that one of the men now present was guilty of aiding and abetting. I could discover the fellow who had thus disgraced himself as a soldier by simply looking at his face."

Having carefully examined the countenance of each man, I felt confident that I had fixed upon the guilty person, as one individual quailed beneath my eye, and at length looked down upon the ground. This happened to be one of the worst characters in the force. I therefore at once ordered him to be flogged.

During the infliction of punishment, this fellow not only confessed that he had assisted in the escape of Lazim, but he made a clean breast of several other delinquencies. He was accordingly put in irons, and condemned to break stones for the new roads.

In the evening Shooli returned, but without the prisoner. Before he gave his report, he begged me "not to be angry." He then described that he had tracked Lazim's footsteps for a long way along the Fabbo road until he had at length met several natives, who were coming towards him. These men declared that they had met Lazim, who had managed to get rid of his irons; but as he was unarmed, they knew that he must have run away. They accordingly asked him for his pass from me, as it was well known that I never allowed a man to go alone without a written order.

Lazim of course was unable to produce a paper. The natives, therefore, insisted upon his returning with them to Fatiko, and upon his remonstrating they seized him. A struggle ensued, and they at length knocked him upon the head with au iron mace and killed him. Thus ended one of the greatest scoundrels, and the government was relieved by his escape from custody, which had so quickly terminated his career.

CHAPTER XXV

I SEND TO GONDOKORO FOR REINFORCEMENTS

On 25th November, 1872, I started Wat-el-Mek to Gondokoro with a force of irregulars, in addition to a captain and twenty regular troops in charge of the post. His party consisted of 100 men.

The fleet from Gondokoro had left on the 3rd of November, 1871: thus it was natural to suppose that reinforcements had arrived from Khartoum, according to my written instructions on that date. I now wrote to Raouf Bey at head-quarters, to send up 200 men under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Tayib Agha, of the Soudani regiment. I also wrote for a supply of cattle, as my stock had dwindled to a small herd of milch cows, and the people at Fabbe had no meat except the flesh of any game that might be killed.

A short time after the departure of Wat-el-Mek and his party for Gondokoro, Suleiman the vakeel arrived from Fabbo with the intelligence that a large body of Abou Saood's slave-hunters, including 3,000 Makkarika cannibals, had arrived on the Nile from the far west, with the intention of taking the ivory from Fabbo!

It appeared that Abou Saood had gone from Gondokoro to his station at the Bohr, upon the White Nile; from thence he had sent a party with a letter to Atroosh, the vakeel of the Makkarika station, about 200 miles distant, with orders that he should send a powerful force, with sufficient carriers, to take the ivory by violence from Fabbo.

Abou Saood had not expected that the people whom he had left at that station would have enlisted under the government standard. Thus he imagined they would at once fraternize with the invading force.

The natives of the country were thoroughly alarmed, as the cannibals were eating the children of the Koshi country on the west bank of the Nile, in about 3 degrees latitude; and should they cross the river, the Madis and Shoolis expected the same fate.

I ordered Suleiman (who had received a letter from Atroosh) to take a letter from me to Ali Emmeen, the vakeel of the invading force, instructing him to present himself before me at Fatiko instantly with an escort of his own people, limited to twenty-five men. At the same time I gave instructions to the natives upon no account to furnish boats for a larger party.