Produced by Douglas Ethington

A PARISIAN SULTANA

A TRANSLATION OF
ADOLPHE BELOT'S
"La Sultane parisienne"
BY
H. MAINWARING DUNSTAN.

BOOK II. IN THE HEART OF AFRICA.

CHAPTER I.

In a few moments the little European flotilla was rounding the Ras-el-Khartoum, the junction of the White and Blue Niles, and very soon it passed the three large mimosas, called usually the "tree," the rendezvous for all boats leaving for the voyage up the White Nile or its affluents. The banks of the river here and for some miles farther on present a most monotonous appearance—low, flat banks as far as the eye can see, often flooded and resembling a sea rather than a river, with here and there a clump of acacias. In the distance can be discerned the desert with its sandy undulations. From the bed of the river snags and dead stumps of trees raise their withered heads, whilst aquatic plants glide slowly down the stream and look like floating islets of verdure. Clouds of mosquitoes swarm on this moving vegetation and appear so thoroughly satisfied with their habitation that they forget to attack the European traveller.

The captain of the steamer which towed the flotilla was a young Egyptian officer, educated in Paris, a very gentlemanly and clever man. At starting he had begged Madame de Guéran and her companions to come on board his ship. "In a few days," he said, "you will leave me, for you will go up the Gazelle River whilst I shall have to proceed alone on my journey up the White Nile as far as Gondokoro. Give me, then, as long as you can, the pleasure of your society."

The whole party acceded to this invitation, and joined the "Khedive," that being the name of the steamer. Most of their time was passed on the poop, and the conversation frequently turned on the slave-trade, which the young officer had for two years, under the command of Sir Samuel Baker, endeavoured to put down.

"Alas!" he said, "our efforts have been well nigh futile. For one cargo of slaves released by us ten have escaped, and General Baker was worn out, during his four years' of command, in the struggle against the natives of the country, whom the slave-merchants, Aboo-Saoud, the most powerful of all amongst them, incited to oppose him."

One evening, as the Europeans and their host were chatting in some such fashion as we have described, an acrid, fetid stench, more like the smell of a charnel-house or a wild beasts' den than, anything else, was wafted by the wind towards the "Khedive," and unexpectedly saluted the nostrils of her passengers.

"This is awful," said Delange, "these banks are enough to breed a pestilence."

"No," said the Captain, "this foul stench comes from that large boat you see coming down the river towards us. If I am not mistaken I shall find on board her some living arguments in support of what I have just been telling you about the slave trade and our powerlessness to put an end to it."

The officer, whilst saying this, got up and directed the engines to be stopped. A boat was at the same time lowered and pulled towards the stranger with an order for her to heave to.

No notice was taken of the command, and the boat, borne onwards by the strength of the rapid current and the favourable wind, continued on her course, the "Khedive" being unable to bar her passage. On the contrary, the Captain prudently got out of the way with his flotilla, but as soon as the sailing boat had passed he fired a gun as a second notice to stop, and this was at once answered by the lowering of her huge sail, those on board recognizing the fact that they were not strong enough to make any show of continued resistance.

"The sky is beautifully clear, and the moon will soon rise from behind that leafy screen of mimosas," said the Captain to his guests. "Would you like to come on board that boat with me? I have every reason to believe that we shall find something in her which will repay us for our trouble."

The offer was accepted, and, a few moments afterwards, a couple of boats were pulled alongside the starboard gangway of the steamer. Ten well-armed sailors took their place in the first, and in the other the Captain, Madame de Guéran, Miss Poles, and their three companions seated themselves.

Five minutes sufficed to reach the stranger. Contrary to expectation there was no attempt at a parley, nor was any opposition offered to this nocturnal visit. So far, indeed, was this from being the case that a line was thrown out to the boats to make them fast to the vessel's side.

The Egyptian officer, followed by his sailors and the European travellers, had scarcely climbed up the side, when the Captain, or reis, a man of about forty, in Mussulman costume, advanced towards them. He spoke in Turkish, and addressed himself to the Commander of the "Khedive," whose uniform bespoke his rank.

"As soon as I understood your orders," said he, in a low voice and with a smile on his thin parched lips, "I hastened to obey them. You have, no doubt, some despatches to give me for Khartoum, which I shall reach in two days if the wind continues favourably."

"You are not going to Khartoum, where you would get into trouble," replied the Commander of the "Khedive." "You reckon upon heaving to at some point along the banks where you can discharge your cargo of slaves, whom you will afterwards forward by land, westwards by Kordofan, or eastwards by Sennaar, to some market or other, either in the interior or on the coast."

"My cargo of slaves, sir? What are you talking about?" exclaimed the Mussulman, raising his eyes to heaven as if to summon it to bear witness to his veracity, "I am a straightforward trader, and I am on my way back from the Grazelle River with a cargo of ivory from the Southern provinces."

"Where is your cargo?" asked the officer.

"Here are a few samples?" replied the Turk, pointing to a number of elephants' tusks which were strung up along the mast.

"You have made a dangerous trip solely for ivory, have you?" was the Egyptian's reply. "I know you and your kindred spirits too well to be taken in by any such tale as that. Where have you hidden your human merchandize? Answer."

"Nowhere, I assure you, sir. You may search the ship if you like."

"That is exactly what I am going to do."

"When you please."

The Egyptian officer was beginning to feel non-plussed. In vain he looked around him, he could only discover about eight or ten men, rather a villainous-looking lot truly, doing odd jobs about the ship.

In the meantime, the stench, which had first become noticeable about half an hour previously, appeared now to increase in intensity every moment, and whiffs of hot, one might almost say putrified, air surged up without intermission from somewhere or other. Whence could possibly come these foul exhalations, this suffocating heat, which seemed to emanate from some cribb'd, cabined, and confined human herd? If the vessel had been a slaver in the Indian Ocean or the Red Sea, there would not have been any need for hesitation. The removal of the hatches would have at once exposed to view two or three hundred blacks, chained along the side of the hold, or stowed away in the centre like bales of cotton or hogsheads of sugar. But the large boat, on board which they were, drew but little water, and she had not depth enough for either a hold or a lower deck.

Fortunately, the sailors of the "Khedive," were whiling away the time by making a tour of inspection on their own behalf, and some of them, who had made their way forwards, took it into their heads to remove some very suspicious looking sacks of grain, thereby uncovering a trap-door which they set to work to raise.

As soon as the men on board, who had up to this time remained remarkably indifferent and impassive, saw what their Egyptian colleagues were about, they came forward and endeavoured to prevent them from satisfying their curiosity. A hot argument ensued, and the attention of the European party was attracted by the wordy tumult. They at once hastened to join the sailors, and, summoning the reis, ordered him to have the trap raised. But the fellow, though previously obsequious and pliant enough, suddenly put on an arrogant air and refused to give the required orders, his crew, at the same time, taking up a menacing attitude.

"All right," said the Commander of the "Khedive," "I expected this, and have provided for the emergency."

So saying, he put his silver whistle to his lips, and at the shrill, prolonged call, the Egyptian steamer, which had been awaiting the signal, was set in motion and came near. The warning was enough, and the Captain, followed by his crew, withdrew aft.

The trap was then raised, and a glimpse was caught of a huge black, seething, writhing, swarming hole. It was but a glimpse, for those who looked in were glad to draw back, half stifled by the heat and stench which escaped from the pit.

At once hands, arms, shoulders, heads appeared through the various openings, and laboured gasps were heard from surcharged breasts, eagerly drinking in the pure air. Sighs and stifled cries from the belly of the ship added to the general discordance.

"Come along!" exclaimed M. de Morin, "let us rescue these poor creatures."

He, his companions, and the Egyptians approached the trap and set to work to haul up all the arms, shoulders, and heads within their reach, seizing hold of them, and dragging them out with such good-will that in a few minutes a score of slaves, more or less suffocated, were lying on the deck, able at last to breathe. But the newly-opened den contained other victims, who must be saved if, indeed, help had not arrived too late. A sailor handed a torch to MM. de Morin and Périères, and the two friends were courageous enough to descend into the abyss.

There, in a space about fifteen metres long, the whole length of the boat, and five wide, in a sort of gallery, where a man even sitting down had to lower his head, in a kind of double-bottomed box, were a hundred human creatures, boys, girls, and women, crammed together, huddled, heaped up pell-mell, welded, as it were, into one another.

"Now, then!" called out M. de. Morin, who was anxious to get on deck again. "Stir yourselves, and get out of this!"

But the poor wretches did not stir. They were not quite so numerous as they had been a moment before, a breath of air had reached them— they did not ask for more—and they called to mind the threat that was held over them when they were shut up in that den—their persecutors had sworn that they would never open the living tomb if their victims uttered a single cry, or drew attention to the boat.

It is owing to the dread instilled into these poor people, ground down by misery and want, and, above all, is it owing to this hideous hiding-place on board their vessels, that the slave dealers continue to carry on, in spite of Baker, their nefarious trade, and sail, unsuspected, past the very stations organized for their discovery. As a rule, their slaves remain on deck night and day, but as soon as a station is neared, or a man-of-war is signalled in the distance, the wretches are made to go below at once into the confined space we have described. There they are hermetically enclosed, there they are immured, not to be released until all danger has disappeared. An opening here and there in the vessel's side, just above the water-mark and too small to be seen, enables the inmates to struggle against suffocation for, perhaps, an hour. That limit passed, the deaths are about twenty a minute, the strongest, those who need a larger quantum of air for their spacious lungs, being the first to succumb. The weak and ailing alone exist for any length of time, and so, at the end of a couple of hours, there is no longer any hurry to open the trap, for out of it would only come worthless, valueless slaves.

But if the openings, of which we have spoken, are not large enough to prevent suffocation, they still allow the escape of the miasma produced by this compressed, over-heated human mass. The wind had borne this stench towards the Egyptian vessel, and thus, by a mere accident, one of the countless devices of these dealers in human flesh was found out.

It was necessary to employ force to get the slaves to emerge from their den, for they were under the impression that if they went on deck they would be massacred. In fact, they were running a great risk, the Mussulman Captain and his ten men having taken advantage of the attention of the Europeans being devoted to the rescue of the slaves, to construct a barricade aft.

They had rolled together three barrels of powder, and they declared positively that if they were to be ruined, if their slaves were taken away, they would blow up the boat and everybody on board.

CHAPTER II.

The threat, however, did not appear to affect either the Europeans or the Egyptian Commander; they went on leisurely with their work of deliverance, dragging one slave after another out of the black hole, and placing them on deck, where Dr. Delange attended to the worst cases. M. de Morin alone, after having exchanged a few words in a whisper with the Commander, went over the side, descended the rope ladder attached to it, got into the boat which had brought him, and, rowed by a couple of men, pulled towards the flotilla.

At length, the last slave was brought on deck; he was still breathing, and M. Delange managed, in a minute or two, to set him on his legs again, but of the hundred and twenty beings who had been set free, eight were suffocated, and defied every effort to restore animation to them. The remainder were as well as ever, despite their incarceration.

M. Périères asked himself whether it would not be better to order the slaves to rush all at once aft and massacre their former masters before the latter had time to set fire to the powder barrels with the matches they were seen to hold in their hands. But one glance at the human crowd surrounding him sufficed to dispel the idea, for he saw that it consisted of men barely adults, a large proportion of women, and children of from eight to twelve years old. It would have been imprudent, in spite of their numbers, to rely upon such allies. Action, and that too of the most energetic sort possible, must be taken without any assistance from them. The reis and his men, in order to rouse themselves to courage and revenge, had just broached a cask of brandy, and, notwithstanding the precepts of the Koran, which they, in all probability, habitually set at nought, they were drinking bumpers of the ardent spirit. There was everything to be feared from their drunken excitement.

The Egyptian officer saw the danger, and, advancing alone along the deck, until within about a couple of yards from the barricade, he addressed the reis, who, though placid enough at the commencement when he thought he could escape any inspection, was now furious at seeing himself unmasked, ruined, and exposed to severe punishment.

"You will immediately order your men," said the Commander firmly, "to put out their portfires, and lay down their arms. In that way alone will you save your lives, for, if you have not complied in five minutes' time, I will have the whole lot of you put to death."

"There will be no need for you to put us to death," shouted the reis. "If your men make a single movement against us, or if they load their guns, I will set light to the powder, and we will all be blown up together, you, I, our men, my slaves, and your Egyptians. You have given me five minutes to surrender," he continued, becoming more and more excited as he spoke. "I give you three to leave my boat, but without taking with you one of my slaves. As soon as you have regained your ship, if you attempt to chase us, there will still be time to blow myself up, and every man you seek to set free shall perish with me."

The Egyptian officer shrugged his shoulders, and, turning towards the
Europeans, said—

"Did you understand what he said?"

"Tolerably well," replied M. Périères.

"What is to be done?" asked the officer. "You are my guests, and I am responsible for your safety. I have no right to expose you to any risk without your consent."

"Act," said Madame de Guéran, "as you would act if we were not with you. They are not Frenchmen who would counsel you to allow yourselves to be intimidated by such brigands as these, or to abandon all these slaves to their anger and revenge."

"Then, madam, I have but one course to pursue—to make a rush with my men against that barricade and break through it before those wretches can get at the powder."

"Do so," simply replied Madame de Guéran.

"And we go with you,' said MM. Périères and Delange to the Captain, as they took their places by his side.

"And I, too—have I not my revolver?" said a third voice.

It was brave Miss Poles, who, coquette as she was, resolved to enjoy male society at all hazards.

The Egyptian officer conversed in a low tone with his sailors, giving them orders, but appearing anxious and ill at ease on seeing their disinclination to obey him. These sailors, not nearly so well disciplined as the French, seemed desirous of arguing with their officer, and trying to make him understand that they would be all of them exposing themselves to certain death if they attacked the barricade in accordance with his orders. Indeed, their fears were reasonable, for the Mussulman reis and his men, more and more excited every moment, had just unheaded the powder barrels so that a spark alone was now needed to cause an explosion; and the staves and hoops of these barrels would be shattered to pieces, and would deal death on all around.

The position was as critical as could well be imagined—in spite of the danger of an attack, and its too probably fatal result, the Egyptian officer, his natural pride being roused, and his amour-propre at stake in the presence of his stranger guests, wished to lead on his men.

They refused to obey him.

Exasperated by this mutiny, and beside himself with anger, he was going to fire on his own men, when suddenly, under a cloudless sky, studded with stars innumerable, and with a moon of marvellous brightness, an overwhelming shower, a veritable deluge, a sort of water-spout burst upon the deck of the vessel.

The occurrence appeared almost phenomenal; in reality it was very simple. M. de Morin, it will be remembered, had, about a quarter-of-an-hour previously, left the boat for the "Khedive," bearing an order for the steamer to close up. Whilst this manoeuvre was being carried out, he was anxiously watching every movement of the Mussulman, and he began to tremble for his friends. His fears suggested to him a happy thought, almost an inspiration. He at once ordered the fire pump, which is to be found on board all men-of-war, to be manned, and told the sailors to play upon the after part of the slaver. This order was executed, and in a moment barricade, men, and powder were all inundated.

Thanks to M. de Morin, who, doubtless, remembered the way in which Marshal Lobau, in 1832, quelled a rising in Paris, the situation was changed, and there was no longer anything to fear from the reis or his men.

The sailors of the "Khedive" rushed on them, and had them bound in a very short time.

But what was to be done with the slaves? That was a somewhat difficult question to answer. If they were left in possession of the boat they would be incapable of managing her, and would inevitably run her ashore, and, in all probability, perish. If, on the other hand, they were to be landed on the banks of the White Nile, they would run a great risk of again being made prisoners.

On questioning some of the poor creatures, it was discovered that the majority belonged to the tribes bordering on the Bahr-el-Ghazal, or Gazelle River. Taken captive by Moflo, the powerful chief of the Niam-Niam territory, who was annually accustomed to make razzias on a large scale amongst the neighbouring tribes, they had been sold some months previously to slave dealers.

As soon as she was made acquainted with these details, Madame de Guéran resolved to take charge of the liberated slaves, as they belonged to the districts through which she intended to pass. She ordered Nassar to take the new arrival in tow, and the little flotilla, following in the wake of the steamer, was thus augmented by another sail.

On their return to the "Khedive," the band of Europeans lost no time in thanking M. de Morin for the service he had rendered them, whilst the Commander ordered the slave dealers to be put in irons and lodged in the hold, intending to bring them up before General Baker for trial.

It was not until an hour past midnight that the flotilla resumed its voyage up the White Nile, hugging the western bank, whence in the clear moonlight could be distinctly seen Arrache-Kol, an abrupt and rugged mountain, which seemed to spring up from the flat plains surrounding it. The river being both wide and deep, rapid progress was made, and the silence of the night was broken only by the noise of the "Khedive's" engines, and the continuous snoring, a rumbling sound, of the numerous hippopotami sleeping near the banks of the river. From time to time were mingled with these noises, the distant cries of some animal attacked by hyænas, and the occasional roaring of a lion, who thus saluted the flotilla as it passed on.

M. de Morin and Périères, their nerves still under the influence of the past excitement, and charmed by the beauty of the night, gave up all thoughts of sleep, and walked up and down the deck, listening intently to every sound that ushered in a world entirely new to them.

Suddenly, behind the "Khedive," and in the midst of the vessels she was towing, countless tongues of flame leapt up into the air.

The two watchers, in alarm and dismay, called on the officer of the watch, and he speedily discovered that the slave boat which had just been added to the flotilla was on fire.

The steamer was at once stopped, the boats were lowered, and the sailors on watch were speedily afloat.

CHAPTER III.

M. de Morin had a seat in the cutter which went to the relief of the burning ship, a simple set of justice, seeing that a fire was on the tapis and that he had just shown such skill in the management of the pump.

The flames spread with astonishing rapidity, running from end to end of the ship, and along the mast and ropes. They were not, however, of the reddish hue usually seen in such conflagrations, but might easily have been taken for Bengal-lights, or fireworks, their bluish rays tingeing the waters of the Nile and the neighbouring shore.

M. de Morin and the Egyptian sailors in vain attempted to solve this problem, but later on all was explained. It seems that the negroes, left to themselves on the boat, liberated by magic as it were, free from both duty and surveillance, had made up their minds to celebrate their triumph, to manifest their independence, and to testify their rejoicing. At first they were content with singing and shouting, and other discordant sounds, but very speedily they began to dance, and stamp about, and betake themselves to all those extraordinary contortions common in their own countries on fête days. These gymnastic exercises gave them an appetite and also an idea that they had a perfect right to dispose of the provisions left on board the boat, and no longer reclaimable by their former masters. Then they turned their attention to the casks of brandy they had hankered after for so long a time, and, having discovered them, they at once, with that carelessness and love of waste so innate in their race, broke them open so that they might, as they thought, drink all the more quickly. The brandy ran in streams along the deck, and in its way met with a smouldering match. The result was, that in an instant the deck of the vessel became a huge bowl of punch, and the blue flames, which had so astonished M. de Morin, leaped up on all sides.

But, for all that, the negroes were none the less exposed to fearful danger. Many of them, in order to escape from the flames which seemed to pursue them, had already gone over the side and were clinging to the gunwale, others had swarmed up the mast, or were hanging to the yard, and these living clusters, suspended in mid air, and lighted up by the flames, produced a most singular effect. The women and children were rushing about in the liquid fire, uttering the most heart-rending shrieks.

The appearance of the flames soon changed from blue to red. The fire was not contented with running madly from one point to another, and licking the objects in its course without giving them a bite. It began to penetrate to the vital parts of the boat, and attacked the canvas, rope, planks and the thousand and one things scattered about the deck. Red tongues of flame darted skywards, lighting up all around, and being reflected back by the stream.

All the "Khedive's" boats had been lowered, and now surrounded the burning vessel, but without daring to approach too closely for fear of being crushed by the fall of the mast, or scorched by the sparks which were emitted in showers from the midst of the conflagration.

How were they to succour the poor creatures, deaf to all advice or command, and terrified to such an extent that they did not even think of throwing themselves into the Nile and taking refuge on board the other boats? The danger was increasing every moment, not to the slaves alone, but also to the whole flotilla, the flames being carried by the wind along the entire line. The order was just about to be given to cut the ropes which connected the burning boat with the others, when the idea occurred to M. Périères to make use of these ropes as a hanging bridge, to put the negroes in communication with the remainder of the flotilla, assuming that if he could only induce one or two to make use of this route, the remainder would certainly follow their leaders like a flock of frightened sheep after the bell-wether.

An example was, however, necessary, and M. Périères did not hesitate for a moment. Having prevailed upon his boat's crew to row him as near as possible to the burning vessel, he seized a rope, crept along to the fore part of the ship, as yet untouched by the fire, endeavoured to attract the attention of some of the negroes, and, hanging by his hands on to one of the ropes, he made his way bit by bit to the flotilla.

As he had expected, he was speedily followed by a few, at first, of the slaves, then the numbers increased, and at last every one was anxious to follow the example set. The sturdy ones reached the goal, and the weak fell into the river, where they were picked up without delay by the boats of the steamer.

There still remained a score of women and children, who either had not strength enough to reach the rope, or were too much alarmed, or too intoxicated to do anything but watch their companions depart one after another, without a thought of following them, or an effort to cling to them. The flames would soon reach these poor creatures, and, more terrible danger still, the powder barrels, inundated some hours previously, but now dry, might at any moment be attacked by the fire and deal death and destruction on all.

This time it was M. de Morin who devoted himself to the work of rescue. As his friend had done, he too got on board the burning vessel, seized upon each woman and child in turn, and, in spite of their shrieks and all their efforts to cling to him, he threw them overboard one after another, either to the sailors in the boats, who held out their arms to catch them, or into the river, whence they were dragged out before the current had time to carry them away.

This wholesale deliverance accomplished, M. de Morin was making ready to get away as fast as he could by diving into the river, when he thought he heard a cry from the after part of the ship. He turned and gazed anxiously towards the spot.

There, by the light of the conflagration, appeared a child of from seven to eight years of age, who had taken refuge in the wheel-house, and, from the midst of the flames surrounding him on every side, was tearfully holding out his little arms to M. de Morin.

He hesitated for a second, for they cried out from the boats—

"Do not venture—it is certain death! The fire is spreading towards the powder, and the ship will blow up, we must get away."

And, indeed, the boats were already being pulled away.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "you leave me my my fate! Be it so! I will not abandon this poor little soul."

And then, creeping at one time along the vessel's side, at another catching hold of a rope, or a shroud, sometimes making his way along the deck itself, he went aft through the flames despite every obstacle, braving every danger.

At length he reached the wheel-house, mounted it, seized the child in his arms, and with him plunged into the river, without even calling on the boats to come to his assistance.

One of them saw him and got up to him just as the current was whirling him towards a snag, under which he would have been sucked by the stream, a bruised and bleeding mass.

Some moments afterwards, as the cutter was close by with the flotilla, a loud report was heard. The wretched slave-ship was engulfed in the Nile.

Madame de Guéran, standing on the poop of the "Khedive," had been a trembling, agitated, spectator of all these scenes, and when MM. Périères and de Morin came on board, she rushed to them, grasped them by the hands, and utterly overcome, burst into tears.

CHAPTER IV.

The "Khedive," towing the flotilla, resumed her onward course; and, except the sailors on watch, everybody on board was sound asleep. Madame de Guéran had retired to her cabin, and her three companions, enveloped from head to foot in coverings to protect them from the mosquitoes, lay stretched at full length on the poop.

Miss Poles alone, indefatigable as ever, walked up and down the deck. She passed in review the occurrences of the night, called to mind the exploits of MM. de Morin and Périères, and debated within herself as to the one on whom she should bestow her still wavering heart.

Daybreak found her still in suspense, but her attention was then attracted to the sights surrounding her. A few yards from the steamer were numbers of hippopotami, who saluted the dawn by wallowing in the Nile; long lines of crocodiles basked in the first rays of the rising sun; herds of huge buffaloes, with outstretched necks and lowered heads, were drinking at the stream. In the distance, already lit up, forests of mimosas and flowering soonts were seen surrounding a village of the Baggara tribe, those hardy horsemen and bold bandits who give only a grudging allegiance to the Egyptian Government. Soon the river itself became animated; quite a fleet of light canoes, hollowed out of the trunks of the tamarind trees, crowded round the steamer, manned by fishermen of the Shillook tribe, who possess an immense extent of territory on the western bank of the Nile. In subjection to Egypt, this numerous, compact tribe, whose villages form an unbroken line along the river, musters more than twelve hundred thousand souls.

If civilization should ever penetrate into these territories, if the innumerable river-side tribes would unite together in one common interest, would obey one sole will, what tremendous power their ruler would possess, what weighty influence would be brought to bear upon the world by the African nation, now held in such contempt that even the most insignificant of European kingdoms would scorn to be named in the same breath with it! But the variety of religions, multiplied ad infinitum, or, to speak more correctly, the diverse beliefs and so-called religious superstitions will ever hold these tribes apart. The Mahomedans have a horror, either instinctive or instilled, of all these people, whom they stigmatise as pagans, and the latter, in their turn, loath the very name of Islamism, a name which to them means their own subjection and enslavement. Thanks to our missionaries, Christianity, and it alone, may one day perhaps succeed in uniting these scattered souls, and may replace ignorance and superstition by knowledge and faith.

The passengers on board the "Khedive" saw nothing during the whole day but the vanguard of the Shillooks, for the Baggaras were denizens of the soil through which they were then passing. But on the morrow, villages succeeded the fishermen's canoes, and as the flotilla hove to for the purpose of laying in a stock of wood and durra, those on board were not sorry to have an opportunity of inspecting a village and making the acquaintance of its inhabitants.

A European who, without any transition stages, preparatory lessons, or preliminary studies, might suddenly find himself in Africa proper, in a Shillook village, would have some difficulty in persuading himself that he was awake, and might feel induced to ask whether he had not been transported, during sleep or by sudden death, to another planet. Imagine a collection of comical mud huts, looking like a large field of button mushrooms; round the majority of the huts a cordon of dried dung, set on fire at night by the natives, for the purpose of keeping the mosquitoes at a distance and frightening the hippopotami and the lions; in the centre of the village, a species of square with one shady spot, furnished by a solitary tree on which are hung the drums, beaten, in case of alarm, to summon the inhabitants to arms. In this square, on mats and buffalo skins, spread out here and there, lie or squat the Shillooks, in utter laziness, sleeping or slowly inhaling the smoke from large pipes with bowls of clay. They are completely naked, but their bodies are encrusted with a thick coating, either of cowdung, or cinders, intended to protect them from the attacks of insects. Some are greyish in colour; these are the poor people, who cannot afford any other covering than the cinders of their own particular hearths. Others, the wealthy owners of a few cattle, make use of dung, and are a dirty red. Even their faces do not escape, every feature being hidden under the layers of filth which, as far as appearances go, seem natural to their skin.

But, nevertheless, they are not entirely without the desire to please, and, if they neglect their bodies, if coats of dirt take the place of coats of cloth, they take the greatest pains with their hair, devoting whole days to the adornment of it, and are quite capable, on this score, of giving any number of points to the most conceited of civilized beings. The hair, rendered stiff by the application of clay or grease, is dressed in the shape of a fan, or a top-knot, or a helmet above the head. The bird kingdom evidently furnishes them with models, and, in this case, cocks and guinea fowls take the place of the wax heads in vogue amongst Parisian hairdressers.

The women, occupied in household affairs, obliged to nurse the babies, who may be seen grovelling in all the mud in the village, and entrusted with the care of the cattle, for which they have a prodigious respect, devote less time to their hair, contenting themselves with a little frizzing or a curl here and there. By way of making up for this, they pay a certain amount of respect to their bodies, and they fasten round their waists, before and behind, pieces of calf's skin, which hang down as far as their knees, forming thus a garment something like a pair of bathing drawers, but permitting a complete side view of their thighs and legs. This covering, incomplete though it be, is only used by the married women. The young girls remain quite naked until their marriage, and that, for certain reasons which will be explained, is frequently deferred until late in life. Amongst the Shillooks the man alone provides the dowry, consisting of a number of cattle, varying according to his means, which become the property of his father-in-law. If the wife is sent back by her husband or leaves him, her father has to repay the dowry, and it is consequently to his interest to prevent all squabbles, if possible, and, if not, to bring about a speedy reconciliation. The introduction of this custom into France might possibly have its advantages. At all events our Parisian mothers-in-law, instead of fanning the flame, would exert themselves to put it out. In the meanwhile, until this suggested reform is carried out, we may congratulate the Shillook ladies on their primitive mode of dress. We shall very soon come to lands where man alone is clothed, and woman, whether girl, wife, or widow, young or old, ugly or pretty, never by any chance puts anything on.

None of the Shillooks, however rich in cattle, thought of offering even a cup of milk to the Europeans. Their laziness, stronger than their curiosity, chained them to the spot where they had first been seen. They opened their large eyes, scanned the strangers from head to foot, but remained unmoved. Enveloped in their dirt, of one sort or another, their inert bodies might have been taken for abandoned corpses, or mummies of ancient Egypt.

As the Europeans were leaving the village, a few natives thought fit to follow them. They looked like dusky shadows, with their lazy mode of walking, their wonderfully skinny limbs, their flat chests and their small heads, made to appear smaller still by the immense coiffure on top of them. Some were armed with long serrated lances, others with club-headed, sharp-pointed sticks. Eminently practical, the Shillooks make their weapons serve also as fishing-tackle; they disdain the bow and arrow, and replace them by a kind of harpoon, intended for the benefit of the crocodiles and hippopotami.

They appeared, moreover, disposed to give their visitors an opportunity of witnessing their mode of fishing, and some of them brought with them their light canoes, which they never leave on the banks of the Nile, carrying them, after each expedition, on their shoulders back to the village.

Night was falling as the handful of Europeans, followed by a few natives, wended their way towards the river and their flotilla. The hour was propitious for a hippopotamus hunt. This animal, after disporting himself in the river during the day, betakes himself in the evening to some plain or pasture land, where he grazes like other ruminants, his amphibious qualities enabling him to vary his pleasures. The hunters let him go inland, and as soon as they know his retreat they approach him with lighted torches, shouting and beating their drums. The hippopotamus, in alarm and anxious to regain the river, goes back there by the way he came. Then another set of hunters, posted on either side of his path, let fly at him with their formidable harpoons, to each of which is attached, by means of a line about twenty feet long, a float or buoy. The wounded animal carries away with him the shaft which has pierced him, rushes to the Nile and plunges down to a considerable depth under water, the better to hide himself. But the buoys float on the surface, showing his course, and when, weakened by loss of blood, he rises to the surface of the stream, he is attacked anew, despatched and dragged to the shore to be cut up.

The Europeans assisted at an attack made after this fashion upon a magnificent male hippopotamus, and, from the boats which had brought them from the "Khedive," they had a capital view of every incident of the hunting or fishing, by whichever name it may be called. For more than an hour the animal struggled against death, dyeing the water of the Nile with his blood, and from time to time, coming up to the surface, he raised his enormous head, noisily inhaled the fresh air, and fixed his eyes on the tiny canoes surrounding, and gradually closing in upon him.

M. de Morin, desirous of putting an end to the creature's sufferings, fired and hit him in the head. The hippopotamus gave vent to a fearful roar, leaped almost out of the water, and then plunged beneath the stream, once more leaving behind him a rather dangerous eddy. The natives protested, when they saw M. de Morin take up his gun, fearing, no doubt, that if he killed the beast he would lay claim to it. But when they saw that the shot had not taken effect, they passed, without any intermediate stage, from extreme anger to uncontrollable and very obstreperous mirth. Shrieks of laughter resounded from all the canoes, and every finger was pointed in ridicule at the clumsy white man, who, though carrying thunder and lightning with him, in the shape of a gun, yet missed his aim.

M. de Morin was bent on having his revenge, and opportunely thought of a certain piece of advice given by the hunters. Consequently, when about ten minutes afterwards, the head of the animal re-appeared, he aimed behind the ear, the vulnerable part, and the shot took effect.

A final roar, a dying groan was heard, a fresh stream of blood mingled with the waters of the Nile, and the animal, not having strength enough to get under water again, was towed ashore by the line attached to the harpoon, and marked, as we have already said, by a float.

To the great delight of the natives, M. de Morin, who was deemed to be a personage of some importance in their eyes, apparently scorned his share of the quarry, for he ordered the rowers to pull him to the "Khedive." But the escort of the expedition, who were all together on board the boat set apart for their use, had also followed with eager eyes all the incidents of the chase, actuated, undoubtedly, by the very natural feeling that hippopotamus flesh would be a variety in their daily ration, that when well dried by the sun and properly cooked it would afford them an excellent meal, and that, from every point of view, it would be absurd to leave so savoury a prey to such wretches, such contemptible heathens as the Shillooks. No sooner did the thought strike them than a dozen soldiers jumped into the boat belonging to their diahbeeah, landed, ran in amongst the natives, and, seizing the rope by which they were hauling the hippopotamus ashore, proceeded, in their turn, to tow the beast in the direction of the flotilla.

The Shillooks at once gave vent to fearful yells; some rushed off to the village for reinforcements, others beat the drum for assistance, and, from all points of the compass, shoals of natives, club in hand and canoe on back, appeared in sight, as if by enchantment.

The Nubians had, by this time, regained their boat. They had taken the hippopotamus in tow, and were on the point of reaching their diahbeeah, when more than a hundred canoes, placed in the water with inconceivable rapidity, in a solid, compact mass, forming, as it were, a single raft, and manned by a crowd of infuriated natives, brandishing their arms and shrieking for vengeance, advanced against the Franco-Egyptian flotilla.

The expenditure of a few rounds of ammunition would have done for the Shillooks, notwithstanding their numbers. Nothing would have been easier, either, than to run the "Khedive" full steam ahead right into the middle of the canoes. But though such an act of barbarity might find favour in some eyes, it was repulsive, not only to the Europeans, but also to the Egyptian Commander, seeing that the natives had not attacked until after provocation on the part of the Nubian soldiers.

M. de Morin, who had been watching the turn of events from his boat, now thought it high time to interfere. Telling his rowers to pull alongside the boat occupied by the escort, he took hold of a hatchet and, without further ado, cut the rope by which the hippopotamus was being towed. The Shillooks stopped at once, and, forgetting all about their intended revenge, only thought of regaining the spoil they had so nearly lost.

Restitution having been thus made, M. de Morin bethought himself of another necessary duty. He accordingly made for the vessel to which the Nubians had just returned, grumbling and rather ashamed of their failure. He called Nassar, reprimanded him sharply for having allowed his men to attempt such an act of robbery, and ordered the immediate administration, in his presence, of ten lashes with the cat-o'-nine-tails to the back of each of the five men who had been the first to quit their vessel. At this time, on the eve of the departure of the Egyptian man-of-war, when the expedition was about to be left to its own resources, it was of the greatest importance, for the safety of all, to impose strict discipline on the escort, and to make it perfectly clear that the power of punishment was vested in the Europeans.

M. de Morin's firmness produced an excellent effect on all these men, who are just as ready to bite the hand that pats them as they are to lick the one that strikes them, provided always that the striker is possessed of assured force and incontestable authority. The white man rose a hundred degrees in the estimation of the negroes, and became at once, in their eyes, the veritable chief of the caravan.

The flotilla now resumed its voyage up stream. Throughout the day the town of Fashoda, the extreme limit of Egyptian rule, had been in sight, and our travellers were now entering a new region, Negro-land proper.

On the following day the expedition passed the mouth of the river Sobat, latitude 9°21'14' north, and a few miles farther on reached the Bahr Giraffe, a small river entering the Nile, between the Sobat and the Bahr-el-Gazal. Some hours later they came to the last-named river, and up it the Europeans, adhering strictly to their programme, had to make their way, leaving the Egyptian steamer to continue on her course up the White Nile as far as Gondokoro.

After having taken a cordial leave of the Commander of the "Khedive," of whom they could not speak too highly, Madame de Guéran and her companions went on board the vessel set apart for their use. The tow-ropes were cast off, the diahbeeahs hoisted their huge sails, and the European expedition, unsupported and unprotected, obliged to rely upon its own resources, veered off, under a parting salute from the guns of the "Khedive."

CHAPTER V.

Serious difficulties and obstacles without number were destined to present themselves on the very first day, as if to warn the travellers that two courses alone were open to them—either to retrace their steps whilst there was yet time, or to nerve themselves to the accomplishment of their perilous undertaking.

The Gazelle River, or Bahr-el-Gazal, up which they were sailing, bears no resemblance to the Nile. The latter, above Khartoum, is a majestic stream, increasing in volume as its sources are approached. Its banks are occasionally encumbered with floating plants, but a powerful current runs through their midst, and leaves a superb passage way, often quite free and clear, to the vessels which navigate it. The Gazelle River, on the contrary, resembles a huge marsh, whose waters appear to lie stagnant and overgrown by vegetation. A passage has to be made, at the cost of extreme and tedious exertion, through a narrow channel, amidst a mass of nenuphars, dense papyrus rushes, and small plants, called "selt," which choke every opening, close up every crevice, and, so to speak, bind one obstacle to another.

Mdlle. Tinne, in 1863, Schweinfurth, in 1869, and Baker, in 1870, had already been stopped by this vegetable barrier, and the expedition of 1873 met with similar difficulties. At length the flotilla was utterly unable to move ahead, in spite of a favourable wind and the power of the huge sails.

Then the escort, the fifty bearers, and the adult negroes, who had been rescued by the Egyptian steamer, had to leave the boats, plunge waist-high in the marsh, lay hold of long ropes, and drag each vessel along by sheer force, one after the other. MM. de Morin, Périères, and Delange were anxious to lend a band, but, like Louis XIV., whose grandeur kept him on shore, they were confined to their vessel by the fear of losing caste in the eyes of the negroes, who, looking down upon manual labour, hold in slight esteem any white man who is imprudent enough to put himself on a par with them and share their work.

The trio were, nevertheless, obliged to join them, not to help, but to rescue them. These marshes, or floating islets, and all this luxuriant vegetation, serve as haunts, or cover, for herds of hippopotami and countless crocodiles. As a rule, the shouting and singing of the blacks, and the encouraging voices of those on board the boats, drive away all these creatures, which could be seen hurrying off towards the dense thickets, where their instinct told them they would be safe. But it occasionally happened that one of them, sound asleep on his bed of roses, would suddenly emerge from the middle of a brake, and show signs of attacking the strangers who were venturesome enough to intrude on his domain. Then one of the three Parisians, or, sometimes, all three together, roused by the shouts of the terrified blacks, would leave their vessel, and advance against the common enemy. The struggle was never very prolonged, for the crocodiles, though their ferocity is very great, invariably take to flight when attacked in earnest.

Though these incidents of the voyage, the sudden disembarkation and hurried chase, made the time pass quickly enough for most of the travellers, the trusty Joseph did not appear to appreciate them. His master, in order to give him something to do and prevent his growing so fat as to present later on a toothsome morsel for some cannibal, had decided that he should take part in all the excursions, to carry the spare rifles and ammunition.

Having thus taken the field, Joseph found himself compelled to wade through the marshes, struggle against the too importunate rushes, and advance against the crocodiles, and with a very bad grace he submitted, much to the amusement of Miss Beatrice Poles. The unfortunate man, nevertheless, really deserved commiseration. His white skin and soft flesh excited the curiosity and the appetite, not only of the crocodiles (which would not have been very dangerous, seeing that M. de Morin was at hand to defend his servant), but of the leeches, green flies, and tiger mosquitoes which abound in the districts watered by the Bahr-el-Grazal. The leeches were the principal offenders, audaciously making their war inside his leggings and inflicting many a bleeding wound. The poor fellow began to find out that he was paying rather a high price in advance for his lovely slave girls and elephants' tusks.

Whilst Joseph groaned and removed from his calves some obstinate leech which, never having tasted so succulent a dish, persisted in its endeavours to continue its repast, Madame de Guéran, Miss Poles, and their three companions, their work over for the day, reclined on board their boat, dragged onward by three hundred arms, and gazed at the surrounding scenery.

It is impossible to give any adequate idea of these strange regions, and it is difficult to realize that you are sailing in a river or on board ship. You are induced to think that you are on terra firma, in a vast plain watered by rivulets, and interspersed with pools and insignificant lakes. The sun finds a mirror in all these waters and lends additional splendour to massive stems, to flowers of every hue, to plants of every kind, revelling in a perpetual bath, to nenuphars red, white and blue, and to magnificent thickets of the papyrus, which raise their crowns twenty feet above the surrounding flood.

Round these stems, large as sugar canes, were fastened at nightfall the ropes which secured the flotilla. The darkness prevented any further attempt to carve out a passage along the narrow channel, and it would have been simply inhuman to leave the crowd of haulers in the midst of a dense vegetation when at each step they ran the risk of being lost to view.

CHAPTER VI.

At sunrise MM. Périères and de Morin gave the order to move on, but the escort, bearers, and slaves all remained motionless. They were seated on deck, huddled together, inert, and deaf to all commands.

M. Périères summoned one of the Nubians, who had been appointed to the post of overseer, and told him to take one of the drums which hung on the mast and give such a roll on it that the meaning of the signal could not be mistaken.

The man obeyed, but the noise did not produce any visible effect on those on board the neighbouring boats. They, one and all, remained perfectly silent and passive.

Then the two young men, in astonishment and something akin to alarm, despatched the Nubian in search of Nassar, who turned up in a few moments in a state of exasperation.

"What is the matter?" asked M. de Morin, curtly.

"The matter is," replied the guide, "that our men refuse to tow the boats as they did yesterday."

"Why?"

"The escort say that they were engaged to protect you and to defend you in case of attack, but not to do any hauling work."

"And their companions—what do they say?"

"Much the same; they were engaged as bearers, and nobody has a right to make them do anything in connection with the boats."

"They have no other motives for their refusal to work than these?"

"They pretend also that they were hurt yesterday by the 'om-souf,' and they do not care about exposing themselves to it any more."

This is the Arabic name given to a plant covered with spines which lacerate the flesh and draw blood.

"Anything else?" asked M. de Morin.

"Yes; they state that to-day they will be in greater danger still if they push on through the marshes, because the hippopotami and crocodiles have neared us during the night, and surround us on all sides."

"And what have you done to overcome the insubordination of your men?"

"I have threatened them and beaten them; but they refuse to obey."

"It is a planned thing, then?"

"Yes; I fear it is a regular plot."

"Very well," exclaimed M. de Morin. "We shall never reach our journey's end if I do not bring these people to reason at once."

And, so saying, he went in the direction of a temporary bridge connecting his own boat with that of the escort.

M. Périères stopped him.

"My dear fellow," said he, "I beg of you not to do anything until you have heard what I have to say. Our guide appears to possess great influence over these men, who, as a rule, both fear and obey him. If, in spite of the reproofs which he has administered, the blows which he has struck, they persist in their disobedience, it shows that the plot is a serious business. We must put an end to it, of course; in that I am entirely with you. But do not let us waste our strength, I beg of you. What were you going to do? Give an order to crack the ringleader's skull, in case of resistance? We shall, no doubt, be reduced to that extremity some day, but, possibly, just now, we might find some other method of intimidation."

"Do you know of any?" asked M. de Morin.

"I think I do. Will you let me try it?"

"With all the pleasure in life. I do not care about killing anybody;
I only insist, in the common interest, upon being obeyed."

"And so you shall—I answer for it."

M. Périères called Nassar, who had discreetly withdrawn, and asked him at what hour the men usually breakfasted.

"At seven o'clock," answered the guide.

"Where are their rations for this morning?"

"On the overseer's boat. They are now getting ready the durra and the meat you promised them yesterday as a reward for their exertions."

"Very well. Tell the cooks to suspend operations. Neither the escort nor the bearers shall eat to-day until they have worked. It is of no use telling them so beforehand; go back to them and let them rest at their ease."

About an hour after this conversation a certain amount of animation was visible amongst the Nubians, who began to yawn and stretch themselves, some even exerting themselves to the extent of standing upright. Their appetites returned, and very soon, as the wild beasts in a menagerie become restless on the approach of feeding time, so all the negroes took to walking about and turning their longing eyes towards the overseer's boat, where their daily breakfast was usually prepared.

But the hour passed, the mists of the morning were dissipated by the burning rays of the sun, and still no breakfast made its appearance.

Then, both soldiers and bearers began to grumble, and growl, and gesticulate, and the boldest, or the hungriest man amongst them went up to Nassar, who was seated in a corner, tranquilly smoking his pipe, and opened the proceedings.

"We are hungry," said he.

"Well, eat," replied the guide, puffing away at his pipe.

"We cannot, because no one has brought us our breakfast."

"That is because there is no one to bring it to you. See if you can find somebody."

The black went and told his comrades what the guide had said.

"He is right," exclaimed a chorus of voices.

A dozen Nubians were selected by their comrades and despatched as envoys extraordinary. They speedily gained the overseer's boat, and went with timid, hesitating steps towards the cook-house and provision store, but stopped in dismay on seeing that both these places were hermetically closed.

After noting their disappointment, M. Périères joined them in a casual sort of way, and asked them what they meant by coming on board without being sent for.

"We came," murmured one of them, "in search of our breakfast."

"What breakfast?" asked the Frenchman, with an air of astonishment. "You are no longer in my service, and, consequently, I am not bound to feed you."

Light now began to dawn on their understandings.

"My friends and I," resumed M. Périères—the interpreter, Ali, translating his words—"agreed to share our provisions with you, because we hoped by to-morrow to reach the Nuehr territory, and soon afterwards the Meshera of Rek. But you refuse to tow the boats, and as we are in consequence threatened with a prolonged sojourn here, we shall keep our provisions to ourselves. If you make up your minds to work you shall have your dinner, but you will get no breakfast to-day. Go and tell your comrades what I have said, and do not come near me again unless I send for you."

The Nubians left the boat with a very downcast air, and went to give an account of their interview. A good deal of murmuring and shouting ensued, but at length all the blacks, soldiers and bearers, persuaded by the common-sense portion of the community, and, above all, acted on by their empty stomachs, plunged into the marsh, seized the tow ropes, and began to haul away with a will.

Two hours afterwards, M. Périères ordered them on board again, and there they found awaiting them a substantial repast, with the additional luxury of a plentiful supply of coffee. Touched by this delicate attention, and moved still more by the firmness displayed by the Europeans, the haulers lost no time in resuming their arduous toil and, towards evening, in spite of the slow rate of progress, the flotilla reached the Nuehr district.

This numerous tribe, whose territory extends southward of the Shillook district, resembles its neighbours in manners and customs. But, if proximity induces resemblance, it also engenders unconquerable enmity; for, in Africa, the fact of two tribes being contiguous to each other suffices to breed hatred and warfare between them. And so it happens that the Nuehrs are of necessity a most warlike race, ever ready to defend their frontier on the north against the Shillooks, and on the south against the Dinkas.

As soon as the inhabitants perceived the European fleet they rushed to their light canoes and brought off goats and sheep in exchange for ornaments. For a few coloured glass beads, worth about a couple of francs, M. Delange, who was at the head of the commissariat department, procured a splendid sheep. Joseph's delight on seeing the conclusion of the bargain knew no bounds—he had not been deceived, and soon, very soon, he would set eyes on that country where, for next to nothing, he could lay in a stock of slaves and ivory.

Notwithstanding all the obstacles to its progress, the flotilla was not long in reaching the point where the Bahr-el-Arab, a somewhat important affluent of the Bahr-el-Gazal, joins that river, if, indeed, such a name can be given to a vast marsh, without current, and choked with vegetation. Thanks to that junction, the progress of the boats was accelerated considerably; the rushes became less dense, and the passage way was enlarged. There was no longer any necessity to tow the boats; the oars and poles were sufficient to propel them, and very soon the sails were brought into requisition.

On the following evening the flotilla arrived at the end of its voyage, Port Rek, a post established in a district belonging to the Dinka tribe, on an islet surrounded by insalubrious swamps. The journey by water was over, and the Europeans had now to turn their attention to the definite formation of a caravan for the purpose of proceeding by land on their way southwards.

But a whole week elapsed before the Rek traders were able to procure the large number of bearers required by the expedition, and, in addition to this, considerable time was consumed in landing all the baggage, provisions of all kinds, and the articles for barter and exchange which were on board the boats. All these affairs led to delay, and to while away their leisure hours and escape from the pestilential marshes, where so many Europeans have succumbed, our travellers resolved upon an elephant hunt or two in the neighbourhood.

CHAPTER VII.

The English Captain, Burton, in one of his works, advances the theory that the elephant possesses an instinct quite equal to the natural intelligence, not only of the Africans, but also of numbers of Europeans. We are, therefore, at liberty to devote a page or two to an animal created by nature to humiliate us. And, to begin with, it cannot fail to be a matter of astonishment that the elephant is not in Africa, as in Asia, trained to the service of man. One reason given for this contrast is, that the African elephant has so much more savage a nature than his Asiatic brother, that it is impossible to tame or train him. This view cannot be seriously entertained for a moment, seeing that there are plenty of stone carvings and medals to show that in ancient Egypt, in the time of the Pharaohs, and later still, under the Roman rule, the elephant was reduced to the condition of a beast of burden. The real secret of his being useless is to be found in the sluggish, careless, inert character of the Arab, Turk, and negro. They would never have patience to await the complete development of an animal which comes to maturity slowly and without hurrying itself in the least, by reason of the length of life allotted to it, for it is admitted that in certain regions the elephant attains to the patriarchal age of three hundred years. The commercial spirit and rapacity of the African tribes have also contributed to convert the elephant into an article of merchandize, and his strength and often surprising activity are unheeded. The animal disappears and his ivory alone remains. To procure and supply the ever insatiable merchants with the number of tusks they require, and to get in exchange the coveted bracelets and necklets in copper or iron, the natives organize extensive battues, wholesale slaughterings, which will soon make the elephant as scarce as was the mastodon in antediluvian times.

When we reflect that ivory is a luxury, an ornament merely, prescribed by fashion alone, and even then to a very limited extent, we cannot help deploring the rapid extinction of one of the noblest of the animal species bestowed on us by nature, and a feeling of regret must arise when we think of the fatigue, hardships, and sufferings undergone by thousands of human beings in order to satisfy one of the many fanciful tastes of Europe. When we see, in the boudoir of some fair dame, the ivory-bound prayer book, our imagination transports us at once to the heart of Africa, and there we behold long caravans of slaves bending under the weight of the elephants' tusks with which their oppressors have overloaded them. We see a hundred tribes ever fighting to enrich themselves at the expense of their neighbours by means of ivory. We repeat, the greater part of the internecine wars which are depopulating this part of the world are caused by the slave and ivory merchants—these two death-dealing trades are inseparable from and spring out of each other.

But, instead of bestowing any further pity on the African, let us turn our attention to his cruel battues and the ferocity he shows in his expeditions against the elephant.

Hunters like Baldwin, the brothers Poncet, Baker, or Cumming, boldly attack the animal and try to shoot him behind the ear, or in the shoulder, when, as a rule, he falls in a heap, without pain or suffering. If they miss, their danger is extreme; the colossus makes at them, and in open ground the best runners are unable to get away from him. This fair fight between a man and an enemy of strength and intelligence is above criticism.

A few natives also risk their lives, and sometimes lose them in the pursuit; but in battues on a large scale, they enclose the quarry gradually in a confined area, which they surround by night with a fencing made by binding the creepers together. Then they summon the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages, draw near to the palisading, and endeavour to despatch the enemy with their arrows. But if the barrier placed in his path is enough to retard his flight, it is utterly futile against his anger and thirst for revenge. Frequently he overturns all obstacles, hurls himself against his assailants, and commits fearful havoc amongst the crowd.

In other districts the hunters on horseback try to tire the elephant out by driving him before them. As soon as they see that he is exhausted, one of them makes his appearance right in front of him, to induce him to start off in pursuit and fix his attention on one single point. Another dismounts, runs towards the animal, and stabs him from behind with a lance, made from three to four yards long so as to reach his vitals. If the elephant is not killed at once the hunter is at the mercy of his infuriated foe.

But the negroes of Central Africa are, as a rule, too cowardly to run any such risks, and too lazy to hunt a single animal. Their idea is a wholesale massacre, a vast hecatomb, where courage does not count, victory is certain, and the profit considerable.

At the first warning of the presence of a herd of elephants, the men collect by thousands to the beat of the drum, just as if they were called upon to defend their country from invasion. They drive their enemies before them, and the animals eventually take refuge either amongst the high grass in the plain, or in the forest. Then the natives set fire to the vegetation, and the elephants soon find themselves surrounded by a circle of fire and smoke, which gradually contracts and bars all escape. Suffocated and half-roasted, they die in horrible agony.

MM. de Morin, Périères, and Delange relied, as far as their elephant hunt was concerned, on their skill, coolness, and courage alone, albeit they had not thought themselves called upon to follow the advice given by Livingstone, who says—"The war-cry of an enraged elephant sounds in the ear of his foe just like the whistle of a French locomotive would on that of a man who found himself on the line without any means of escape. I advise all Nimrods who wish to experience this hazardous hunting to nerve themselves to it by standing on a line of rails and there remaining until an approaching train is only a very short distance from them."

We have already said that Madame de Guéran and Miss Poles, if they did not intend to hunt, were still bent on accompanying the hunters; and the two interpreters, with a dozen Dinkas and a like number of Nubians selected from the escort, made up the party. Nassar was obliged to remain at Port Rek to attend to the preparations for departure, and to keep watch over the forty soldiers and the bearers, old and new, left under his care. It would have been imprudent to have left these people to themselves during the absence of their masters, for they would assuredly have picked a quarrel with the natives, and so have compromised the Europeans.

M. de Morin, assured that his valet would not be of any use during the excursion, had given him leave of absence, but in the breast of Joseph a love of ivory triumphed over all idleness and timidity. He begged that he might be allowed to go, and his master, taking for devotion what in reality was greed, permitted him to join the hunters. These latter, all on horseback, not excepting even Miss Poles, who was, with considerable difficulty, made to understand that she would delay matters if she went on foot, started about 5 a.m. After having left the marshes and the banks of the stream, the party made their way in the direction of a plain on the outskirts of a forest, where, it was reported, a large number of elephants had taken up their abode. The natives, informed on the previous evening of the arrival of the Europeans, hurried to meet them, accompanied by their sorcerer, each tribe possessing an elephant charmer, who has to be consulted before any hunt is undertaken. If he says that it cannot take place without risk, lances, and bows and arrows are laid aside, and every man betakes himself to his own house. If, on the contrary, the sorcerer says that the fates are propitious, arms are brandished valiantly, and the march against the enemy begins. As soon as the animal is sighted, the charmer addresses him as follows:—"Oh, chief! we are come to kill you. Oh, chief! like so many others, you are about to die. The gods have so declared to me this night, and before the end of the day we shall eat you."