The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile, And Explorations of the Nile Sources
TekstCHAPTER XV
KAMRASI BEGS FOR THE BRITISH FLAG
Kamrasi, thus freed from his invaders, was almost stupefied with astonishment. He immediately paid me a visit, and as he entered the courtyard he stopped to look at the flag that was gaily fluttering above him, as though it were a talisman. He inquired "why the Turks were awed by an apparent trifle." I explained that the flag was well known, and might be seen in every part of the world; wherever it was hoisted it was respected, as he had just witnessed, even at so great a distance from home and unsupported, as in Unyoro.
Seizing the opportunity, he demanded it, saying, "What shall I do when you leave my country and take that with you? These Turks will surely return. Give me the flag, and they will be afraid to attack me!" I was obliged to explain to him that "the respect for the British ensign had not been gained by running away on the approach of danger, as he had proposed on the arrival of the enemy, and that its honour could not be confided to any stranger." True to his uncontrollable instinct of begging, he replied, "If you cannot give me the flag, give me at least that little double-barrelled rifle that you do not require, as you are going home; then I can defend myself should the Turks attack me."
I was excessively disgusted; he had just been saved by my intervention, and his manner of thanking me was by begging most pertinaciously for the rifle that I had refused him on more than twenty occasions. I requested him never to mention the subject again, as I would not part with it under any circumstances. Just at this moment I heard an uproar outside my gate, and loud screams, attended with heavy blows. A man was dragged past the entrance of the courtyard bound hand and foot, and was immediately cudgelled to death by a crowd of natives. This operation continued for some minutes, until his bones had been thoroughly broken up by the repeated blows of clubs. The body was dragged to a grove of plantains, and was there left for the vultures, who in a few minutes congregated around it.
It appeared that the offence thus summarily punished was the simple act of conversing with some of the natives who had attended Mahommed's men from Fowooka's island to Kisoona: a conversation with one of the enemy was considered high treason, and was punished with immediate death. In such cases, where either Kamrasi or his brother M'Gambi determined upon the sudden execution of a criminal, the signal was given by touching the condemned with the point of a lance: this sign was the order that was immediately obeyed by the guards who were in attendance, and the culprit was beaten to death upon the spot. Sometimes the condemned was touched by a stick instead of a lance-point; this was a signal that he should be killed by the lance, and the sentence was carried out by thrusting him through the body with numerous spears—thus the instrument used to slay the criminal was always contrary to the sign.
On the day following this event, drums were beating, horns blowing, and crowds of natives were singing and dancing in all directions; pots of plantain cider were distributed, and general festivities proclaimed the joy of the people at the news that Mahommed's party had retreated across the river, according to their agreement with me. My men had returned with a letter from Mahommed, stating that he was neither afraid of Ibrahim's people nor of Kamrasi, but that as I claimed the country, he must retire. Not only had he retired with his thwarted allies, but, disgusted at the failure of his expedition, he had quarrelled with Fowooka, and had plundered him of all his cattle, together with a number of slaves: this termination of the affair had so delighted Kamrasi that he had ordered general rejoicings: he killed a number of oxen, and distributed them among his people, and intoxicated half the country with presents of maroua, or the plantain cider.
Altogether Mahommed, the vakeel of Debono, had behaved well to me in this affair, although rather shabbily to his allies: he sent me six pieces of soap, and a few strings of blue beads and jenettos (red glass beads) as a proof that he parted with no ill feeling. Hardly were the Turks in retreat when Kamrasi determined to give the finishing stroke to his enemies. He sent great quantities of ivory to the camp, and one evening his people laid about twenty tusks at my door, begging me to count them. I told him to give the ivory to Ibrahim's men, as I required nothing; but that should Ibrahim find a large quantity ready for him on his return to the country, he would do anything that he might desire.
A few days later, whole lines of porters arrived, carrying enormous elephants' tusks to Eddrees, the vakeel. Early the next morning, Kamrasi's entire army arrived laden with provisions, each man carrying about 40 lbs. of flour in a package upon his head. The Turks' party of ten men joined them, and I heard that an attack was meditated upon Fowooka.
A few days after the expedition had started, the Turks and about 1,000 natives returned. Kamrasi was overjoyed; they had gained a complete victory, having entirely routed Fowooka, and not only captured the islands and massacred the greater number of the inhabitants, but they had captured all the wives of the rebel chiefs, together with a number of inferior slaves, and a herd of goats that had fortunately escaped the search of Mahommed's retreating party. Fowooka and Owine had escaped by crossing to the northern shore, but their power was irretrievably ruined, their villages plundered and burned, and their women and children captured.
A number of old women had been taken in the general razzia; these could not walk sufficiently fast to keep up with their victors during the return march, they had accordingly all been killed on the road as being cumbersome: in every case they were killed by being beaten on the back of the neck with a club. Such were the brutalities indulged in.
On the following morning I went to visit the captives; the women were sitting in an open shed, apparently much dejected. I examined the hands of about fourteen, all of which were well shaped and beautifully soft, proving that they were women of high degree who never worked laboriously: they were for the most part remarkably good looking, of soft and pleasing expression, dark brown complexion, fine noses, woolly hair, and good figures, precisely similar to the general style of women in Chopi and Unyoro.
Among the captives was a woman with a most beautiful child, a boy about twelve months old; all these were slaves, and the greater number were in a most pitiable state, being perfectly unfit for labour, having been accustomed to luxury as the women of chiefs of high position. Curiously enough, the woman Bacheeta, who had accompanied us to visit these unfortunate captives, now recognised her former mistress, who was the wife of the murdered Sali; she had been captured with the wives and daughters of Rionga. Bacheeta immediately fell on her knees and crept towards her on all fours, precisely as the subjects of Kamrasi were accustomed to approach his throne. Sali had held as high a position as Fowooka, and had been treacherously killed by Kamrasi at M'rooli in the presence of Bacheeta. At that time peace had been established between Kamrasi and the three great chiefs, who were invited to a conference at M'rooli with a treacherous design on the part of the king. Hardly had they arrived, when Rionga was seized by Kamrasi's orders, and confined in a circular but with high mud walls and no doorway; the prisoner was hoisted up and lowered down through an aperture in the roof. He was condemned to be burnt alive on the following morning for some imaginary offence, while Sali and Fowooka were to be either pardoned or murdered, as circumstances might dictate. Sali was a great friend of Rionga, and determined to rescue him; accordingly he plied the guards with drink, and engaged them in singing throughout the night on one side of the prison, while his men burrowed like rabbits beneath the wall on the opposite side, and rescued Rionga, who escaped.
Sali showed extreme folly in remaining at M'rooli, and Kamrasi, suspicious of his complicity, immediately ordered him to be seized and cut to pieces: he was accordingly tied to a stake, and tortured by having his limbs cut off piecemeal—the hands being first severed at the wrists, and the arms at the elbow joints. Bacheeta was an eyewitness of this horrible act, and testified to the courage of Sali, who, while under the torture, cried out to his friends in the crowd, warning them to fly and save themselves, as he was a dead man, and they would share his fate should they remain. Some escaped, including Fowooka, but many were massacred on the spot, and the woman Bacheeta was captured by Kamrasi and subsequently sent by him to the Turks' camp at Faloro, as already described. From that day unremitting warfare was carried on between Kamrasi and the island chiefs; the climax was their defeat, and the capture of their women, through the assistance of the Turks.
Kamrasi's delight at the victory knew no bounds; ivory poured into the camp, and a hut was actually filled with elephants' tusks of the largest size. Eddrees, the leader of the Turks' party, knowing that the victory was gained by the aid of his guns, refused to give up the captives on the demand of the king, claiming them as prisoners belonging to Ibrahim, and declining any arguments upon the matter until his master should arrive in the country. Kamrasi urged that, although the guns had been of great service, no prisoners could have been captured without the aid of his canoes, that had been brought by land, dragged all the way from Karuma by hundreds of his people in readiness for the attack upon the islands.
As usual in all cases of dispute, I was to be referee. Kamrasi sent his factotum Cassave in the night to my hut to confer with me without the Turks' knowledge; then came his brother, M'Gambi, and at length, after being pestered daily by messengers, the great king arrived in person. He said that Eddrees was excessively insolent, and had threatened to shoot him; that he had insulted him when on his throne surrounded by his chiefs, and that, had he not been introduced into the country by me, he would have killed him and his men on the spot.
I advised Kamrasi not to talk too big, as he had lately seen what only ten guns had effected in the fight with Fowooka, and he might imagine the results that would occur should he even hint at hostility, as the large parties of Ibrahim and the men of Mahommed Wat-el-Mek would immediately unite and destroy both him and his country, and place his now beaten enemy Fowooka upon HIS throne should a hair of a Turk's head be missing. The gallant Kamrasi turned almost green at the bare suggestion of this possibility. I advised him not to quarrel about straws, assuring him, that as I had become responsible for the behaviour of the Turks while in his country, he need have no fear; but that, on the other hand, he must be both just and generous. If he would give them a supply of ivory, he might always reckon upon them as valuable allies; but if he attempted to quarrel, they would assuredly destroy his country after my departure. Of course he requested me never to think of leaving him, but to take up my abode for life in Kitwara, promising me all that I should require in addition to a large territory. I replied that the climate did not agree with me, and that nothing would induce me to remain, but that, as the boats would not arrive at Gondokoro for six months (until February), I might as well reside with him as anywhere else. At the same time, I assured him that his professed friendship for me was a delusion, as he only regarded me as a shield between him and danger. After a long conversation, I succeeded in persuading him not to interfere in matters regarding prisoners of war, and to look upon Eddrees only as a vakeel until Ibrahim should arrive. He left my hut promising not to mention the affair again; but the next, day he sent Cassave to Eddrees, demanding two of the prettiest women who were captives. In reply, Eddrees, who was an extremely hotheaded fellow, went straight to Kamrasi, and spoke to him in a most insulting manner, refusing his request. The king immediately rose from his seat and turned his back upon the offender. Off rushed Eddrees, boiling with passion, to his camp, summoned his men well armed, and marched straight towards the residence of Kamrasi to demand satisfaction for the affront.
Fortunately, my vakeel brought me the intelligence, and I sent after him, ordering his immediate return, and declaring that no one should break the peace so long as I was in the country. In about ten minutes, both he and his men slunk back ashamed, mutually accusing each other, as is usual in cases of failure. This was an instance of the madness of these Turks in assuming the offensive, when, in the event of a fight, defeat must have been certain. They were positively without ammunition! having fired away all their cartridges except about five rounds for each man in the attack upon Fowooka. Fortunately, this was unknown to Kamrasi. I had a large supply, as my men were never permitted to fire a shot without my special permission.
The party of Turks were now completely in my power. I sent for Eddrees, and also for the king: the latter had already heard from the natives of the approach of the armed Turks, and of my interference. He refused to appear in person, but sent his brother M'Gambi, who was, as usual, the cat's-paw. M'Gambi was highly offended, and declared that Kamrasi had forbidden Eddrees ever to appear again in his presence. I insisted upon Eddrees apologizing, and it was resolved that all future negotiations should be carried on through me alone.
I suggested that it would be advisable for all parties that a message should be sent without delay to Ibrahim at Shooa, as it was highly necessary that he should be present, as I should not continue responsible for the conduct of the Turks. When I arrived in Unyoro it was with the intention of visiting the lake, and returning immediately. I had been delayed entirely through Kamrasi's orders, and I could not be held responsible for Eddrees;—my agreement had been to guarantee the conduct of the Turks under Ibrahim, who was the commander of the party. Eddrees, who, being without ammunition, was now excessively humble and wished for reinforcements, offered to send five men to Shooa, provided that Kamrasi would allow some natives to accompany them. This did not suit the ideas of the suspicious M'Gambi, who suspected that he intended to misrepresent Kamrasi's conduct to prejudice Ibrahim against him. Accordingly, he declined his offer, but agreed to give porters and guides, should I wish to send any of my men with a letter. This suited my views exactly; I longed to quit Kamrasi's country, as Kisoona was a prison of high grass and inaction, and could I only return to Shooa, I could pass my time pleasantly in a fine open country and healthy climate, with the advantage of being five days' march nearer home than Unyoro. Accordingly, I instructed my vakeel to write a letter to Ibrahim, calling him immediately to Kisoona, informing him that a large quantity of ivory was collected, which, should Eddrees create a disturbance, would be lost. On the following morning, four of my men started for Shooa, accompanied by a number of natives.
Kisoona relapsed into its former monotony-the war with Fowooka being over, the natives, free from care, passed their time in singing and drinking; it was next to impossible to sleep at night, as crowds of people all drunk were yelling in chorus, blowing horns and beating drums from sunset until morning. The women took no part in this amusement, as it was the custom in Unyoro for the men to enjoy themselves in laziness, while the women performed all the labour of the fields. Thus they were fatigued, and glad to rest, while the men passed the night in uproarious merriment. The usual style of singing was a rapid chant delivered as a solo, while at intervals the crowd burst out in a deafening chorus together with the drums and horns; the latter were formed of immense gourds which, growing in a peculiar shape, with long bottle necks, were easily converted into musical (?) instruments. Every now and then a cry of fire in the middle of the night enlivened the ennui of our existence; the huts were littered deep with straw, and the inmates, intoxicated, frequently fell asleep with their huge pipes alight, which, falling in the dry straw, at once occasioned a conflagration. In such cases the flames spread from hut to hut with immense rapidity, and frequently four or five hundred huts in Kamrasi's large camp were destroyed by fire, and rebuilt in a few days. I was anxious concerning my powder, as, in the event of fire, the blaze of the straw hut was so instantaneous that nothing could be saved: should my powder explode, I should be entirely defenceless. Accordingly, after a conflagration in my neighbourhood, I insisted upon removing all huts within a circuit of thirty yards of my dwelling: the natives demurring, I at once ordered my men to pull down the houses, and thereby relieved myself from drunken and dangerous neighbours.
Although we had been regularly supplied with beef by the king, we now found it most difficult to procure fowls; the war with Fowooka had occasioned the destruction of nearly all the poultry in the neighbourhood of Kisoona, as Kamrasi and his kojoors (magicians) were occupied with daily sacrifices, deducing prognostications of coming events from the appearances of the entrails of the birds slain. The king was surrounded by sorcerers, both men and women; these people were distinguished from others by witch-like chaplets of various dried roots worn upon the head; some of them had dried lizards, crocodiles' teeth, lions' claws, minute tortoise-shells, &c. added to their collection of charms. They could have subscribed to the witches' cauldron of Macbeth:
"Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blindworm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble."
On the first appearance of these women, many of whom were old and haggard, I felt inclined to repeat Banquo's question: "What are these, so withered and so wild in their attire, that look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, and yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught that man may question?"
In such witches and wizards Kamrasi and his people believed implicitly. Bacheeta, and also my men, told me that when my wife was expected to die during the attack of coup de soleil, the guide had procured a witch, who had killed a fowl to question it, "Whether she would recover and reach the lake?" The fowl in its dying struggle protruded its tongue, which sign is considered affirmative; after this reply the natives had no doubt of the result. These people, although far superior to the tribes on the north of the Nile in general intelligence, had no idea of a Supreme Being, nor any object of worship, their faith resting upon a simple belief in magic like that of the natives of Madi and Obbo.
Some weeks passed without a reply from Shooa to the letter I had forwarded by my men, neither had any news been received of their arrival; we had relapsed into the usual monotony of existence. This was happily broken by a most important event.
On the 6th September, M'Gambi came to my hut in a state of great excitement, with the intelligence that the M'was, the natives of Uganda, had invaded Kamrasi's country with a large army; that they had already crossed the Kafoor river and had captured M'rooli, and that they were marching through the country direct to Kisoona, with the intention of killing Kamrasi and of attacking us, and annexing the country of Unyoro to M'tese's dominions. My force was reduced by four men that I had sent to Shooa—thus we were a party of twenty guns, including the Turks, who unfortunately had no ammunition.
There was no doubt about the truth of the intelligence; the natives seemed in great consternation, as the M'was were far more powerful than Kamrasi's people, and every invasion from that country had been attended with the total rout of the Unyoro forces. I told M'Gambi that messengers must be sent off at once to Shooa with a letter that I would write to Ibrahim, summoning him immediately to Karuma with a force of 100 men; at the same time I suggested that we should leave Kisoona and march with Kamrasi's army direct to Karuma, there to establish a fortified camp to command the passage of the river, and to secure a number of canoes to provide a passage for Ibrahim's people whenever they could effect a junction:—otherwise, the M'was might destroy the boats and cut off the Turks on their arrival at the ferry. Kisoona was an exceedingly disadvantageous situation, as it was a mere forest of trees and tangled herbage ten or twelve feet high, in which the enemy could approach us unperceived, secure from our guns. M'Gambi quite approved of my advice, and hurried off to the king, who, as usual in cases of necessity, came to me without delay. He was very excited, and said that messengers arrived four or five times a day, bringing reports of every movement of the enemy, who were advancing rapidly in three divisions, one by the route direct from M'rooli to Karuma that I had followed on my arrival at Atada, another direct to Kisoona, and a third between these two parallels, so as to cut off his retreat to an island in the Nile, where he had formerly taken refuge when his country was invaded by the same people. I begged him not to think of retiring to the island, but to take my advice and fight it out, in which case I should be happy to assist him, as I was his guest, and I had a perfect right to repel any aggression.
Accordingly I drew a plan of operations, showing how a camp could be formed on the cliff above Karuma Falls, having two sides protected by the river, while a kraal could be formed in the vicinity completely commanded by our guns, where his cattle would remain in perfect security. He listened with wandering eyes to all military arrangements, and concluded by abandoning all idea of resistance, but resolutely adhering to his plan of flight to the island that had protected him on a former occasion.
We could only agree upon two points, the evacuation of Kisoona as untenable, and the necessity of despatching a summons to Ibrahim immediately. The latter decision was acted upon that instant, and runners were despatched with a letter to Shooa. Kamrasi decided to wait until the next morning for reports from expected messengers on the movements of the enemy, otherwise he might run into the very jaws of the danger he wished to avoid; and he promised to send porters to carry us and our effects, should it be necessary to march to Karuma: with this understanding, he departed. Bacheeta now assured me that the M'was were so dreaded by the Unyoro people that nothing would induce them to fight; therefore I must not depend upon Kamrasi in any way, but must make independent arrangements: she informed me, that the invasion was caused by accounts given to M'tese by Goobo Goolah, one of Speke's deserters, who had run away from Kamrasi shortly after our arrival in the country, and had reported to M'tese, the king of Uganda, that we were on our way to pay him a visit with many valuable presents, but that Kamrasi had prevented us from proceeding, in order to monopolise the merchandise. Enraged at this act of his great enemy Kamrasi, he had sent spies to corroborate the testimony of Goobo Goolah (these were the four men who had appeared some weeks ago), which being confirmed, he had sent an army to destroy both Kamrasi and his country, and to capture us and lead us to his capital. This was the explanation of the affair given by Bacheeta, who, with a woman's curiosity and tact, picked up information in the camps almost as correctly as a Times correspondent.
This was very enjoyable—the monotony of our existence had been unbearable, and here was an invigorating little difficulty with just sufficient piquancy to excite our spirits. My men were so thoroughly drilled and accustomed to complete obedience and dependence upon my guidance, that they had quite changed their characters. I called Eddrees, gave him ten rounds of ball cartridge for each of his men, and told him to keep with my party should we be obliged to march: he immediately called a number of natives and concealed all his ivory in the jungle. At about 9 P.M. the camp was in an uproar; suddenly drums beat in all quarters, in reply to nogaras that sounded the alarm in Kamrasi's camp; horns bellowed; men and women yelled; huts were set on fire; and in the blaze of light hundreds of natives, all armed and dressed for war, rushed frantically about, as usual upon such occasions, gesticulating, and engaging in mock fight with each other, as though full of valour and boiling over with a desire to meet the enemy. Bacheeta, who was a sworn enemy to Kamrasi, was delighted at his approaching discomfiture. As some of the most desperate looking warriors, dressed with horns upon their heads, rushed up to us brandishing their spears, she shouted in derision, "Dance away, my boys! Now's your time when the enemy is far away; but if you see a M'was as big as the boy Saat, you will run as fast as your legs can carry you."
The M'was were reported to be so close to Kisoona that their nogaras had been heard from Kamrasi's position, therefore we were to be ready to march for Atada before daybreak on the following morning. There was little sleep that night, as all the luggage had to be packed in readiness for the early start. Cassave, who could always be depended upon, arrived at my hut, and told me that messengers had reported that the M'was had swept everything before them, having captured all the women and cattle of the country and killed a great number of people; that they had seen the light of burning villages from Kamrasi's camp, and that it was doubtful whether the route was open to Atada. I suggested that men should be sent on in advance, to report if the path were occupied: this was immediately done.
Before daybreak on the following morning an immense volume of light with dense clouds of smoke in the direction of Kamrasi's position showed that his camp had been fired, according to custom, and that his retreat had commenced;—thousands of grass huts were in flames, and I could not help being annoyed at the folly of these natives at thus giving the enemy notice of their retreat, by a signal that could be seen at many miles' distance, when success depended upon rapid and secret movements.
Shortly after these signs of the march, crowds of women, men, cows, goats, and luggage appeared, advancing in single file through a grove of plantains and passing within twenty yards of us in an endless string. It was pouring with rain, and women carrying their children were slipping along the muddy path, while throngs of armed men and porters pushed rudely by, until at last the gallant Kamrasi himself appeared with a great number of women (his wives), several of whom were carried on litters, being too fat to walk. He took no notice of me as he passed by. M'Gambi was standing by me, and he explained that we were to close the rear, Kamrasi having concluded that it was advisable to have the guns between him and the enemy.
For upwards of an hour the crowd of thousands of people and cattle filed past; at length the last straggler closed the line of march. But where were our promised porters? Not a man was forthcoming, and we were now the sole occupants of the deserted village, excepting M'Gambi and Cassave. These men declared that the people were so frightened that no one would remain to carry us and ours effects, but that they would go to a neighbouring villa and bring porters to convey us to Foweera tomorrow, as that was the spot where Kamrasi wished us to camp; at Foweera there was no high grass, and the country was perfectly open, so that the rifles could command an extensive range. The cunning and duplicity of Kamrasi were extraordinary—he promised, only to deceive; his object in leaving us here was premeditated, as he knew that the M'was, should they pursue him, must fight us before they could follow on his path; we were therefore to be left to defend his rear. The order to camp at Foweera had a similar motive. I knew the country, as we had passed it on our march from Atada to M'rooli; it was about three miles from Karuma Falls, and would form a position in Kamrasi's rear when he should locate, himself upon the island. Foweera was an excellent military point, as it was equidistant from the Nile north and east at the angle where the river turned to the west from Atada.
I was so annoyed at the deception practised by Kamrasi that I determined to fraternise with the M'was, should they appear at Kisoona; and I made up my mind not to fire a shot except in absolute necessity for so faithless an ally as the king. This I explained to M'Gambi, and threatened that if porters were not supplied I would wait at Kisoona, join the M'was on their arrival, and with them as allies I would attack the island which Kamrasi boasted was his stronghold. This idea frightened M'Gambi, and both he and Cassave started to procure porters, promising most faithfully to appear that evening, and to start together to Foweera on the following morning. We were a party of twenty guns; there was no fear in the event of an attack. I ordered all the huts of the village to be burned except those belonging to our men; thus we had a clear space for the guns in case of necessity. In the evening, true to his promise, M'Gambi appeared with a number of natives, but Cassave had followed Kamrasi.
At sunrise on the following day we started, my wife in a litter, and I in a chair. The road was extremely bad, excessively muddy from the rain of yesterday, trodden deeply by the hoofs of herds of cattle, and by the feet of the thousands that had formed Kamrasi's army and camp followers. There was no variety in the country, it was the same undulating land overgrown with impenetrable grass, and wooded with mimosas; every swamp being shaded by clumps of the graceful wild date. After a march of about eight miles we found the route dry and dusty, the rain on the preceding day having been partial. There was no water on the road and we were all thirsty, having calculated on a supply from the heavy rain. Although many thousands of people had travelled on the path so recently as the previous day, it was nevertheless narrow and hemmed in by the high grass, as the crowd had marched in single file and had therefore not widened the route. This caused great delay to the porters who carried the litter, as they marched two deep; thus one man had to struggle through the high grass. M'Gambi started off in advance of the party with several natives at a rapid pace, while the Turks and some of my men guarded the ammunition, and I remained in company with the litter and five of my men to bring up the rear. The progress of the litter was so slow that, after travelling all day until sunset, we were outmarched, and just as it was getting dark, we arrived at a spot where a path branched to the south, while the main path that we had been following continued E.N.E. At this point a native was waiting, having been stationed there by the Turks to direct us to the south; he explained that the people had halted at a village close by. Pushing our way through the narrow path we shortly arrived at the village of Deang. This consisted of a few deserted huts scattered among extensive groves of plantains. Here we found Eddrees and the Turks, with their captives from the attack on Fowooka; passing their huts, we took possession of two clean and new huts in the midst of a well-cultivated field of beans that were about six inches above the ground, the cleared field forming an oasis in the middle of the surrounding grass jungle There was no water; it was already dark, and, although we had travelled through the heat of the day, no one had drunk since the morning. We were intensely thirsty, and the men searched in vain among the deserted huts in the hope of finding a supply in the water jars they were all empty. Fortunately we had a little sour milk in a jar that we had carried with us, barely sufficient for two persons. There was nothing to eat except unripe plantains: these we boiled as a substitute for potatoes. I disarmed all the porters, placing their lances and shields under my bedstead in the hut, lest their owners should abscond during the night. It now appeared that our party had scattered most disgracefully; those in advance with the ammunition who bad been ordered not to quit their charge for an instant, had outmarched the main body, leaving Eddrees and a few men with the captive women, who could not walk fast, and my small guard who had attended the litter.