The troops had fallen into position with extraordinary rapidity, and several ascended the roof of the fort, so as to see clearly over the high grass. A soldier immediately fell, to die in a few minutes, shot through the shoulder-blade. Another man of the "Forty Thieves" was shot through the leg above the knee. The bullets were flying through the government divan, and along the approach.
A tumultuous roar of savage voices had burst from all sides, and the whole place was alive a few instants after the first two shots had been heard. Thousands of armed natives now rushed from all directions upon the station.
A thrill went through me when I thought of my good and devoted Monsoor!
My wife had quickly given me my belt and breechloading double rifle.
(This beautiful weapon, I have already mentioned, was made by Mr.
Holland, of Bond Street, London.) Fortunately I had filled up the
pouches on the previous evening with fifty rounds of cartridge.
The troops were now in open order, completely around the station, and were pouring a heavy fire into the masses of the enemy within the high grass, which bad been left purposely uncleared by Kabba Rega, in order to favour a treacherous attack.
The natives kept up a steady fire upon the front from behind the castor-oil bushes and the densely thronged houses.
With sixteen men of the "Forty Thieves," together with Colonel Abd-el-Kader and Lieutenant Baker, R.N., I directed a heavy fire into the covert, and soon made it too hot for the sharpshooters. I had ordered the blue lights at the commencement of the attack. My black boys, Saat and Bellaal, together with some soldiers, now arrived with a good supply.
Covering their advance with a heavy fire from the sniders, the boys and men rushed forward, and immediately ignited Kabba Rega's large divan.
These active and plucky lads now ran nimbly from hut to hut, and one slight touch of the strong fire of the blue lights was sufficient to insure the ignition of the straw dwellings.
I now sent a party of fifteen sniders, under Lieutenant Ferritch Agha, one of my most courageous officers, with a supply of blue lights, to set fire, to the town on our left flank, and to push on to the spot where the missing Monsoor and Ferritch had fired their rifles.
Every arrangement having been rapidly carried out, the boys and a few men continued to fire the houses on our right flank; and giving the order to advance, our party of sixteen rushed forward into the town.
The right and left flanks were now blazing, and the flames were roaring before the wind. I heard the rattling fire of the sniders under Ferritch Agha on our left, and knowing that both flanks were now thoroughly secured by the conflagration, we dashed straight for Kabba Rega's principal residences and court, driving the enemy before us. Colonel Abd-el-Kader was an excellent officer in action. We quickly surrounded Kabba Rega's premises, and set fire to the enormous straw buildings on all sides.
If he had been at home he would have had a warm reception, but the young coward had fled with all his women before the action had commenced, together with the magic bamba or throne, and the sacred drum.
In a few minutes the conflagration was terrific, as the great court of Kabba Rega blazed in flames seventy or eighty feet high, which the wind drove in vivid forks into the thatch of the adjacent houses.
We now followed the enemy throughout the town, and the sniders told with sensible effect wherever they made a stand. The blue lights continued the work; the roar of flames and the dense volumes of smoke, mingled with the continued rattle of musketry, and the savage yells of the natives, swept forward with the breeze, and the capital of Unyoro was a fair sample of the infernal regions.
The natives were driven out of the town, but the high grass was swarming with many thousands, who, in the neighbourhood of the station, still advanced to attack the soldiers.
I now ordered "The Forty" to clear the grass, and a steady fire of snider rifles soon purged the covert upon which the enemy had relied.
In about an hour and a quarter the battle of Masindi was won. Not a house remained of the lately extensive town. A vast open space of smoke and black ashes, with flames flickering in some places where the buildings had been consumed, and at others forked sheets of fire where the fuel was still undestroyed, were the only remains of the capital of Unyoro.
The enemy had fled. Their drums and horns, lately so noisy, were now silent.
I ordered the bugle to sound "cease firing." We marched through the scorching streets to our station, where I found my wife in deep distress.
The bugle sounded the assembly, and the men mustered, and fell in for the roll-call. Four men were missing.
Lying on the turf, close to the fort wall, were four bodies arranged in a row and covered with cloths.
The soldiers gathered round them as I approached. The cloths were raised.
My eyes rested on the pale features of my ever faithful and devoted officer, Monsoor! There was a sad expression of pain on his face. I could not help feeling his pulse; but there was no hope; this was still. I laid his arm gently by his side, and pressed his hand for the last time, for I loved Monsoor as a true friend.
His body was pierced with thirty-two lance wounds; thus he had fought gallantly to the last, and he had died like a good soldier; but he was treacherously murdered instead of dying on a fair battle-field.
Poor Ferritch Baggara was lying next to him, with two lance wounds through the chest.
The other bodies were those of the choush that had fallen by my side, and the soldier who had been shot on the parapet.
We were all deeply distressed at the death of poor Monsoor. There never was a more thoroughly unselfish and excellent man. He was always kind to the boys, and would share even a scanty meal in hard times with either friend or stranger. He was the lamb in peace, and the lion in moments of danger. I owed him a debt of gratitude, for although I was the general, and he had been only a corporal when he first joined the expedition, he had watched over my safety like a brother. I should "never see his like again."
Monsoor was the only Christian, excepting the European party.
The graves were made. I gave out new cloth from the stores in which to wrap the bodies of four of my best men, and they were buried near the fort.
My heart was very heavy. God knows I had worked with the best intentions for the benefit of the country, and this was the lamentable result. My best men were treacherously murdered. We had narrowly escaped a general massacre. We had won the battle, and Masindi was swept from the earth. What next?
I find these words, which I extract from my journal, as they were written at that moment:-
"Thus ended the battle of Masindi, caused by the horrible treachery of the natives. Had I not been quick in sounding the bugle and immediately assuming a vigorous offensive, we should have been overwhelmed by numbers.
"Since we have been in this country, my men have been models of virtue; nothing has been stolen, except a few potatoes on one occasion, when the thief was publicly punished, and the potatoes restored to the owner, neither have the natives been interfered with in any manner. I have driven the slave-hunters from their country, and my troops from Fatiko are ordered to restore to Unyoro all the slaves that have been stolen by the traders. The disgusting ingratitude and treachery of the negro surpasses imagination.
"What is to become of these countries? all my good-will brings forth evil deeds."
In the battle of Masindi nothing could have exceeded the cool, soldier-like bearing of both officers and men. Every man had done his duty. In the first onset, when about seven or eight thousand natives had suddenly attacked the station, the men had not only fallen into position for the defence of the camp with extraordinary alacrity, but they had behaved with extreme steadiness and coolness, and not a man had moved from his post without orders.
The attacking parties, formed exclusively of the "Forty Thieves," had exhibited an activity and elan for which this gallant little corps was eminently distinguished; and had they been European troops, their conduct upon this occasion, against such overwhelming odds, would have covered them with glory.
We had no newspaper correspondents, therefore I must give the due praise to my officers and men.
During the day I established patrols throughout the now cleared space lately occupied by the town.
In the afternoon Umbogo was able to call some natives who were within earshot. These men explained that the chief, Matonse, was the cause of the outbreak, and that it was his people who, by his orders, had killed Monsoor and Ferritch.
Umbogo had been set at liberty during the fight, but I now secured him by the neck to a leathern thong in the hand of a sentry; for, although a good man, I could not afford to lose him, and the devil might have tempted him to run away.
In the afternoon some natives cried out that Kittakara was coming, and Lieutenant-Colonel Abd-el-Kader, with a few men, immediately went out to meet him.
Kittakara would not approach within less than about a hundred yards, but he assured Abd-el-Kader that the outbreak was not the fault of Kabba Rega, but that the responsibility lay with Matonse, who had escaped, and that he should be captured and delivered up to me.
He continued to assure Abd-el-Kader that Kabba Rega had already ordered provisions and a large number of elephants' tusks to be collected for us, and that, although for the present he was hiding through fear in the high grass, he would quickly rebuild his divan close to my own, so as to live in friendship.
It was impossible to credit one syllable in Unyoro. On the other hand, should I be unable to bring the enemy to terms, I should be chained to the spot, as it would be impossible to transport my baggage.
It was an awkward position. The treachery had been frightful, and I could only attribute it to Kabba Rega's orders, in spite of the protestations of Kittakara. If I should be right in my suspicions, what would become of Major Abdullah and his detachment?
Nothing would be easier for the 300 natives who had accompanied my people with the post, than to behave well on the route to Fatiko, in order to establish confidence. They could then carry all the effects and ammunition, in company with Abdullah and his troops, from Fatiko to Unyoro, and in the prairie wilderness, they might murder every man at night when asleep, and possess themselves of the arms, ammunition, and effects, with which they would rejoin Kabba Rega.
This was a frightful idea; and there could be no doubt that such treachery had been planned, if Kabba Rega were guilty of the attempt to poison the troops and attack us by surprise. It was hard to disbelieve his guilt.
There were no means possible of communication with Abdullah. In case of necessity, there was only one move; this was to march to the Victoria Nile, and form an alliance with Rionga, the old enemy of Kamrasi's family, whom I had always refused to attack. I was sure that he must have heard of my refusal to ally myself with Kabba Rega against him: thus he would be favourable to the government.
I resolved that, if hostilities should continue, I would proclaim Rionga representative of the government, as vassal-chief of Unyoro, in the room of Kabba Rega, deposed.
Rionga would send a letter to warn Major Abdullah at Fatiko; but how was I to convey my baggage and ammunition from Masindi to Foweera, without a single carrier, or even a guide?
It was the height of the rainy season, and the grass was about nine or ten feet high, throughout a country of dense and tangled forest.
I had no interpreter of my own; Umbogo was Kabba Rega's slave, and although I fancied that he was fond of us, I had no faith in any one of these detestable people. This want of confidence was keenly felt at a time when I required an interpreter in whom I could absolutely trust. I was obliged to confide my plan to Umbogo, as I wished him to find some man among the natives who would take a message to Rionga.
I knew that many people hated Kabba Rega. Umbogo had frequently assured me that Mashudi, which was only two days distant from Masindi, to the south-east, had always been Rionga's stronghold; and that the natives of that district would rise in favour of their chief, should any reverse befall Kabba Rega.
The news of the defeat of his army, and the complete destruction of his capital, would run through the country like wild-fire. It was well known that Rionga had spies, who were disguised as friends, even at the court of Kabba Rega; these agents sent him information of all that occurred.
If Umbogo could communicate with one of these people, I might send off to Rionga, and beg him to send 300 men to Fatiko, with a letter from myself to Major Abdullah. Rionga's people would transport the effects instead of Rabba Rega's carriers, who would be seized and held as hostages. This would save Abdullah from the intended treachery, if it were done at once; but there was not a moment to lose.
Already fifteen days had elapsed since my party with the post had started, and by this time they should be near Fatiko, (at that time they had already been treacherously attacked.) unless they had been delayed upon the road, as was usual in Unyoro.
If I could depend upon Rionga, he would at once save Abdullah's party, and he would send a large force to communicate with me at Masindi.
Had I provisions, I could have held my now fortified position against a whole world of niggers; but with only a hundred men, I should be unable to forage in this country of high grass, and at the same time defend the station.
All depended upon the possibility of my communication with Rionga.
Umbogo declared that if I would only march to Mashudi, the natives would rise in his favour and join me.
I told him that if this were true, he could surely find some person who would run to Mashudi, and raise the malcontents, who would at once carry my message to Rionga.
Umbogo promised to do his best: at the same time he expressed an opinion that Rionga would not wait long in inaction, but that he would invade Kabba Rega directly that he should hear of the war. From my experience of natives, I did not share his opinion.
As Kittakara had apologized for the attack to Colonel Abd-el-Kader, and a truce had been arranged, a great number of natives spread themselves over the ruins of the town, to search for the iron molotes, which are generally concealed in the earth, beneath the floor of the huts. The natives were all prodding the smoking ground with the iron-tipped butt-ends of their lances to discover the treasures.
Umbogo now went among them with his guard, and conversed upon the cause of the late attack.
In the evening, Umbogo declared that he was not quite certain of the truth; he evidently suspected the sincerity of Kabba Rega. It was quite impossible to procure any messenger at present that could be trusted with a message to Rionga.
The memorable 8th of June happened to be my birthday. It had been the day of death to my lamented follower, Monsoor; but we had well avenged him.
Umbogo reported that the natives had given him the names of nine matongales (chiefs) killed in the action, together with a large number of common people. A great many were still missing: these were probably lying in the high grass which had been raked by the hot fire of the sniders. Vultures were collected in immense numbers over many spots in this dense covert, which denoted the places where the "missing" had fallen.
I ordered the troops to abandon their undefended camp, and to sleep within the fort that night.
The morning of the 9th of June arrived—the night had passed in perfect quiet.
My troops set to work with their sharp sword-bayonets, swords, knives, &c., to cut down all the high grass in the neighbourhood, so as to throw open the view, and prevent the enemy from attacking us by another surprise. They worked for many hours, and soon found a number of the missing, who were lying dead. Five bodies were discovered close together, as though they had been killed by a shell. This was in a spot where the "Forty Thieves" had been at work.
One unfortunate creature was found in the high grass with a smashed leg. He had been lying, thirsty and in pain, for about thirty hours in the same spot. My men gave him water and food, and his friends came and took him away. The wounded man seemed very grateful, and he told my soldiers that they were "better men than the Unyoros, who would certainly murder a wounded enemy instead of giving him food and water."
I had told Umbogo to make inquiries as to the safety of little Cherri-Merri. The boy was unharmed, as he had been taken away before the fight.
It was now proved that the cows had also been removed during the night previous to the attack, as I had suspected.
During the day, vast number of people were collected at a large village, situated on a knoll, about 700 yards from our station in a direct line. This place, we were informed, was now occupied by Kabba Rega. The knoll was about eighty feet lower than our high position; therefore, as we had roughly cut down the grass, we looked directly upon the village.
We lost no time in erecting the large astronomical telescope upon its stand. This was placed upon the flat gravel approach in front of the government divan, and through the powerful glass we could distinguish each feature, and the expression of every individual countenance of the crowd within the village.
During the day, messengers arrived from Kabba Rega with an official explanation of the misunderstanding. They declared that it was entirely the fault of Matonse, who would be soon captured; that Kabba Rega desired them to express his deep regret; "Was he not my son? Did he not depend upon the protection of his father?" He only begged for peace. The natives had been killed in great numbers; therefore "if we had lost a few soldiers, the Unyoro had lost many—so the affair was settled."
I told them that nothing could ever compensate for the loss of Monsoor, who had been so treacherously killed; at the same time, if Kabba Rega could prove that the guilt really lay with Matonse, the simple plan would be to deliver him up to me.
I recalled to their recollection how I had passed ten months in Unyoro in the reign of Kamrasi, at which time I had only an escort of thirteen men, and no misunderstanding had ever occurred. I explained that the fault was not on my side. An attempt had been made to poison us collectively; we had then been surprised by a thoroughly organized attack, at a time when the troops were supposed to have been disabled by the poison.
Kabba Rega must clear his character. If he were innocent, I should be only too happy.
The matongale, or sheik, who was the principal messenger, assured me that Kabba Rega was quite in despair, and that he had given orders for provisions and a large quantity of ivory to be collected, which would be sent to us on the day following, in charge of Rahonka and Kittakara.
The want of provisions was sorely felt; fortunately, as our cows had been dying daily, the troops had some sweet potatoes that had been purchased in exchange for flesh. These would last for a few days.
A short time before the attack, I had promised to send Kabba Rega a porcelain cache-pot. I therefore took the opportunity of reminding the sheik of my promise, and I begged him to deliver the piece of china to Kabba Rega as a proof of my peaceful intentions, should he really be innocent of the treachery.
The handsome present was wrapped up in red Turkey cloth, and the messengers departed.
I watched them through the telescope, and, upon their arrival at the village below us, I distinctly witnessed, not only their reception by the expectant crowd, but the cache-pot was unpacked and held at arm's length above the head, to be exhibited to the admiring people.
This looked well. My officers began to believe in peace; and, although
I still had strong suspicions, I hoped that the signal defeat which
Kabba Rega's army had sustained had so far cowed them as to induce a
termination of hostilities, that would enable me to communicate with
Major Abdullah.
The luggage from the government divan had all been carried to the fort. This was now returned to our original quarters; my wife and her black maids were working hard at rearranging the rooms.
The night passed quietly.
On 10th of June a matongale and several natives arrived from Kabba Rega, with a most polite message and friendly assurances, accompanied by a present of two beautiful white cows.
The messengers corroborated the statement of the preceding day, that large quantities of provisions were being prepared for us, together with twenty elephants' tusks, which were to be delivered as a peace-offering by Rahonka and Kittakara in person.
Affairs looked brighter. It was my best policy to secure peace if possible.
I determined to send Kabba Rega, in return for his present of cows, the large Geneva musical box, with drums and bells, which he had always desired.
No one knew how to wind it up; and it was necessary that some person should accompany it with the native messengers.
The clerk of the detachment, Ramadan, who has already been mentioned as a favourite with the natives, and a good linguist, at once volunteered to be the bearer of the present. Since the battle of Masindi, Ramadan had been in frequent personal communication with the natives, and he assured me that there was a general desire for peaceful relations. He was supposed to be a favourite of Kabba Rega's, and it was therefore arranged that he should accompany the musical box, which was a good load for a fast-travelling native.
Hafiz, the farrier, whose occupation was nearly gone by the death of all the horses but two, volunteered to accompany Ramadan. I ordered them to go unarmed, as their peaceful mission would be at once understood; this fact would establish confidence among the natives.
It was about 3 P.M. when they started, and we watched their arrival in the village with the telescope, where they appeared to be well received.
In the evening they both returned with the musical box, accompanied by the sheik who was to be their guide, as Kabba Rega had retired to a town at which he had a residence, about half a day's march distant. It was arranged that they should start on the following morning.
On the 11th June, Ramadan and Hafiz, together with the musical box, started, and we watched their reception at the village with the telescope. I had released Umbogo, whom I had sent to Kabba Rega to explain all that he had seen of the outbreak, as he was one of those that had been poisoned by the plaintain cider. Umbogo promised to return as soon as possible. The dragoman, Abou Kooka, remained with us in the place of Umbogo. This was a sullen-looking brute who had been a slave stolen from the Madi tribe.
I must now take an extract verbatim from my journal, that was written on the day of the incident. Any warm expressions in this extract must be excused as a natural consequence, for which I trust due allowance will be granted:—
"I walked round the burnt town of Masindi, accompanied by Julian
(Lieutenant Baker), Abd-el-Kader, and two guards of 'The Forty.' Neither
Abd-el-Kader nor I carried guns, as I wished to establish confidence
among the natives who were searching among the ashes for molotes.
"I sent for the dragoman, Abou Kooka, and conversed with the natives, assuring them of peace, and that I had no ill-will against Kabba Rega, if Matonse was the cause of the outbreak. At the same time, I told them to bring provisions for sale.
"They seemed very shy, and replied that 'all would be right when the messengers should arrive from Kabba Rega. One by one they went away, until only two were left. Julian gave his gun to one of the guards.
"The two natives were standing on the edge of the high grass, close to the ashes of the town, and they appeared more confident, as they conversed with us at about twelve yards' distance.
"Presently they said they would come close to us, were it not for their fear of the two sentries with their rifles, who were about forty yards in our rear.
"I turned round to order the sentries to retire a little. The instant that my back was turned, one of the treacherous brutes hurled his spear at me, which struck quivering in the earth at my feet! At the same moment they bolted into the high grass, accompanied by our dragoman, Abou Kooka, and disappeared at once like fish in water!
"The treachery of the negro is beyond belief; he has not a moral human instinct, and is below the brute. How is it possible to improve such abject animals? They are not worth the trouble, and they are only fit for slaves, to which position their race appears to have been condemned.
"I believe I have wasted my time and energy, and have uselessly encountered difficulties, and made enemies by my attempt to suppress the slave trade, and thus improve the condition of the natives.
"It is now 4.40 P.M., and I am anxious about Ramadan and Hafiz, who have not returned.
"My men have been on half rations since the 8th inst., and we have supplies only for to-morrow, after which we shall be obliged to forage, unless Kabba Rega sends the promised provisions. "It is impossible to believe one word in this accursed country. At the same time that Kabba Rega declares peace and good-will, he may be planning a surprise. I do not think, however, that his people will be in a hurry to fight after the lesson they received on the 8th inst.
"Nevertheless, fighting is dangerous work in this country of high grass, where troops cannot see to manoeuvre, and where the ground is everywhere favourable for native ambuscades."
When I returned to the divan with the spear that had so narrowly missed me, through the cowardice of the assailant (who should have made sure of me, had he not been nervous), my wife was not cheered by the little incident. She had had the same experience as myself in African natures, and she immediately declared against the pretended sincerity of Kabba Rega.
I had serious misgivings. Nothing can happen in Unyoro without the order of the king. The superstitious veneration for the possessor of the magic throne produces a profound obedience.
On the other hand, this attempt at murder might have been only the revenge of an individual who had perhaps lost his house and property in the conflagration of Masindi.
The evening arrived without tidings of either Ramadan or Umbogo. I was now without an interpreter.
The troops, and their wives and effects, occupied the fort, and the officers' quarters and camp had been abandoned.
It was about 8 P.M., and dinner being over, I was smoking my pipe in the divan, conversing with my wife and Lieutenant Baker upon the situation of affairs, when a sudden bright glare attracted my attention.
An officer immediately reported that the abandoned quarters were in a blaze of fire!
I was of course ready in an instant, and armed, and accompanied by my wife and Mr. Baker, I really enjoyed the beauty of the scene in that moment of anxiety.
Without the slightest noise, or even an audible whisper, the troops were all in position, kneeling on the ground in open order around the fort and the divan, keeping the most vigilant watch for the appearance of an enemy. The flames from the camp rose about seventy feet high. There was not a breath of air; thus the fire danced and leapt up to its extreme height, and illumined the neighbourhood for a great distance.
Not an enemy was to be seen. The soldiers were like statues, and there was no sound except the roaring of flames.
Suddenly loud yells broke out from a distance of about 200 yards from the farthest side of the fort, as though from a considerable body of men. Not a soldier stirred or spoke.
I had cleared the grass around the fort and station, therefore it was impossible to approach us unobserved.
The natives must have crept up stealthily, and fired the abandoned camp in the expectation that the troops would have rushed down to extinguish the flames, and thus the fort and the divan would have been at the mercy of an attack from the dark side.
I immediately sent a strong patrol around the station, but not a soul was visible. The attempt had failed.
Once more the luggage, with beds, boxes, &c., was transported from the divan to the fort.
The night passed quietly. On 12th June, I watched the natives with the telescope, and I observed that many of the crowd were gesticulating in an excited manner.
I was almost convinced that we were again subjected to the foulest treachery, and I was extremely anxious about Ramadan and Hafiz. I could hardly believe it possible that these poor men, unarmed, and carrying a valuable present, would be cruelly murdered.
The day passed in hope and expectation of their return. Late in the evening, the act of incendiarism of the preceding night was renewed, and the deserted house of Colonel Abd-el-Kader was in a bright blaze without a native being visible.
No yells were heard, nor any other sound. The troops turned out with their usual quiet discipline, but not a shot was fired.
The 13th June arrived.—Still there were no tidings of either Umbogo, Ramadan, or Hafiz. I now felt convinced that the young villain, Kabba Rega, had played me false, and that he was only gaining time to collect and organize the whole force of Unyoro to attack us, and to line the path to the river with ambuscades.
It is impossible to this day to say whether Umbogo was true or false. I never saw him again; and the unfortunate Ramadan and Hafiz were wantonly murdered.
At about 10 A.M., 13th June, we were let into the secret of Kabba Rega's villainy. A sudden rush of natives was made upon the cattle, which were grazing within sixty yards of the fort! Poisoned arrows were shot, and a general attack was made upon the station. Guns fired; the bullets whistled over our heads, and I thought I recognized the crack of our lost sniders (those of Monsoor and Ferritch), that were employed against us.
The curtain had now risen. When the actual fighting arrived, there was some little relaxation from the intense anxiety of mind that I had suffered for some days.
I at once ordered the men into line, and the bugles and drums sounded the charge with the bayonet.
The gallant "Forty Thieves" led the way, with drums beating and a hearty cheer, and dashed through the ruins of the town and straight into the high grass on the other side, from which the cowardly enemy fled like hares.
On our return to the station, I at once ordered Colonel Abd-el-Kader to take eighty men and some blue lights, and to destroy every village in the neighbourhood. The attack was made on the instant. The large village, about 700 yards distant, which I had raked with the fire of a few sniders, while Abd-el-Kader descended the slope to the attack, was soon a mass of rolling flames. In an hour's time volumes of smoke were rising in various directions.
My active and gallant colonel returned, having driven the enemy from every position, and utterly destroyed the neighbourhood.
I had made up my mind. There could be no longer any doubt of the diabolical treachery of Kabba Rega. He had only endeavoured to gain time by specious assurances of good-will, combined with presents, in order to organize the whole country against us. The natives who shot arrows must have come from Magungo, as none of the other districts were armed with bows. The arrows that had been shot at us, which my men had collected, were thickly poisoned with a hard gummy matter.
It was now rendered certain that a snare had been laid for the massacre of Major Abdullah's party.
Kabba Rega had no doubt ordered the various routes towards Rionga's province to be ambuscaded.
I determined at once to push straight for the camp at Foweera on the Victoria Nile, as Rionga's island was about fifteen miles from that point.
Among the men of the "Forty Thieves", there was a soldier named Abdullah, who had an extraordinary instinct for finding his way. This man never forgot a path if he had ever travelled upon the same route.
I also depended upon my Baris and Molodi; although they had not long experience of the path by which we had arrived from Foweera with the cattle, they were clever as guides.
Unfortunately, the country had changed terribly by the immense growth of the grass and tangled creepers.
I felt sure that the route would be occupied by the enemy throughout the whole distance, and that we should have to fight every mile of the path at a grave disadvantage.
The question of a supply of food was vital. The men had mostly exhausted their provisions.
At this critical moment, when every man of the expedition felt the fatal truth, my wife confided her secret, that she had hitherto concealed, lest the knowledge of a hidden store should have made the men extravagant. She now informed them that in past days of plenty, when flour had been abundant, she had, from time to time, secreted a quantity, and she had now SIX LARGE IRON BOXES FULL (about twelve bushels). This private store she had laid by in the event of some sudden emergency.
"God shall give her a long life!" exclaimed both officers and men. We had now enough flour for the march of seven days to Foweera, at which place there were regular forests of plantains.
My herd of cattle had been reduced to seventy, and I much doubted the possibility of driving them in a high grass country, as they would scatter and make a stampede should we be attacked; they would be scared by the guns.
I mustered my force and spoke to my men, to whom I explained their exact position, and my plan of action.
I should immediately divide among them, as presents, all the cotton stuffs that belonged to the expedition.
Each man would carry three pounds of beads in his knapsack, one-third of which should subsequently belong to him.
The line of march would be thus arranged—a Bari, who professed to know the path, would lead the advance-guard of fifteen sniders, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Abd-el-Kader, supported by myself with ten sniders in charge of the ammunition, accompanied by Lieutenant Baker, my wife, and two servants, carrying double breechloading elephant rifles. The rear-guard would consist of fifteen sniders. The few remaining sniders would be distributed along the line.
Neither the advance; nor rear-guard would carry any loads beyond their knapsacks and a small bag of flour. Five of the sniders with me would also be exempted from carrying loads; but every other soldier, and every woman and boy, would carry either one of the metal boxes or some other package.
I explained to the men that they would be attacked throughout the route at a great disadvantage, but that success would depend upon the strict observance of orders for the march combined with the utmost coolness.
Each man was to keep just near enough to be able to touch with his outstretched hand the knapsack of the man before him, and upon no account to widen this distance, but to keep the line intact. Should it be broken by the sudden rush of the enemy, we should at once be lost.
Should the attack be made simultaneously on both sides, alternate files would face to right and left, place their loads upon the ground, and fire low down in the grass, as the natives always crouched after throwing a spear from covert.
A bugler would accompany the colonel commanding the advance-guard, in addition to buglers with myself and the rear-guard; thus we should be able to communicate along the line, which would be concealed from view by the high grass.
On arrival at water, and in crossing either swamps or streams, no man or woman was to stop to drink unless the bugle of the advance-guard sounded halt.
No woman would be allowed to speak during the march, as profound silence must be observed.
The officers and men received their instructions, merely declaring that wherever I should lead them, they would follow and obey.
I at once divided the effects that could be carried, into the requisite number of loads, which were carefully packed in metal boxes by my wife and her black maids. It was hard and anxious work. The strongest men were selected to carry the boxes of snider cartridges, which weighed 64 lbs. each.
All the rest of the baggage I arranged in piles, and distributed in the government divan and the various houses. I spread my large tent over the luggage in the divan, and poured over it a quantity of nitrous ether, spirits of wine, lamp-oil, spirits of turpentine, and all the contents of the large medicine-chest.
I filled up my small chest, and took a good roll of adhesive plaster, a number of bandages, and a packet of lint.
Upon the tent-cloth, rendered highly inflammable by the saturation of spirits and oil, I laid about sixty rockets.
My two horses and three donkeys would be loaded with baggage.
I gave orders for the march early on the following morning. The rear-guard was to set fire to the station; this was the sad result of our industry and labour in a land of detestable savages.
CHAPTER XXII
THE MARCH TO RIONGA.
On the morning of the 14th of June, 1872, at 9.30, the advance-guard filed along the gravel path, and halted at the extremity of the station at Masindi. The line was complete, according to the orders for the march. Not a word was spoken. A light, drizzling rain fell, and the sky was a dull grey.
I looked back, and waited for the destruction of my favourite station. In our little house we had left pictures of my own children, and everything that was not absolutely necessary to our existence. Even the Queen and the Princess of Wales were to perish in the conflagration, together with much that was parted with in this moment of exigency.
The smoke now curled in thick, white folds from the government divan and our own private house.
Lieutenant Baker's new house was ignited. O ne by one every hut was fired. The rear-guard, having done their duty, closed up in the line of march.
I did not give the word "Forward!" until the flames had shot up high in the air, and the station was in the possession of the fire. At this moment a loud report announced that all the rockets had exploded. The advance-guard moved forward, and the march commenced.
We soon entered the high grass, which was reeking with the light rain, and we were wet through in an instant.
My wife was walking close behind me with a quantity of spare ammunition for the "Dutchman" in her breast. She had a Colt's revolver in her belt. Lieutenant Baker was heavily loaded, as he carried a Purdy rifle slung across his back, together with a large bag of ammunition, while he held a double breechloader smooth-bore in his hand, with a bag of heavy buckshot cartridges upon his shoulder.
Suleiman and Mohammed Haroon (our servants) were close by with my two breechloading No. 8 elephant rifles. These carried picrate of potash shells that were immensely powerful. Very little would have been left of the body of a man had one of such shells struck him in the chest.
The cattle began to cause much trouble as soon as the march commenced, and we slowly descended the knoll upon which the station stood, and in single file entered the extremely narrow path which led down to a small swamp.
Crossing the swamp, through deep mud, we arrived on firm ground, and continued to march slowly, on account of the cattle. I felt sure they would have to be abandoned. The cows strayed to the right and left, and Morgian the Bari, and Abdullah Djoor the cook, who were the drovers, were rushing about the grass in pursuit of refractory animals, that would shortly end in being speared by the enemy.
We thus marched for about a mile before a hostile sound was heard. We then distinguished the tumultuous voices of the natives in the rear, who had been attracted to the station by the general conflagration.
The slow march continued, through grass about eight feet high, and occasional forest. The rain now descended steadily, and I feared that the old muzzle-loading muskets would miss fire.
The sound of drums and horns was now heard throughout the country, as the alarm spread rapidly from village to village. We could hear the shouts of natives, and drums that were now sounding in the forest upon a hill on our right. These people were evidently in possession of a path unknown to us, which ran parallel to our route.
For seven hours the march continued with such frequent halts, owing to the straying of the cattle, that we had only progressed the short distance of ten miles, when, at 4.40 P.M., we entered the valley of Jon Joke. We saw before us the hill covered with plantain groves where we had slept when upon the march to Masindi.
The grass was very high, and the path hardly a foot wide, only resembling a sheep run. Suddenly the advance-guard opened a hot fire, and the bugle sounded "halt!"
A few paces in front of me, my favourite sailor and fisherman, Howarti, was in the line, carrying a metal box upon his head. In addition to his musket, which was slung across his shoulders, I had given him one of my double breechloading pistols, which he carried in his belt.
The word was suddenly passed that "Howarti was speared!"
Lances now flew across the path, and the line opened fire into the grass upon our right, according to orders.
I immediately went up to Howarti. I found him sitting upon the ground by the side of his box, in the act of reloading his pistol with a Boxer cartridge. A lance had struck him in the fleshy part of the right arm, just below the point of junction with the shoulder, and, passing through his body, it had protruded from his stomach. Upon feeling the wound, Howarti had dropped his load, and drawing his pistol, he shot the native dead, as he leapt from his ambush to recover the lance which was sticking in the poor fellow's body.
Here was another of my best men sacrificed. Howarti had always been a true, good man, and he had just exhibited his cool courage. He had himself pulled the spear from his body.
My wife had followed me immediately upon hearing that Howarti was injured. He had reloaded his pistol, but in reply to my question whether he could sit upon a donkey, he fainted. I roughly bandaged him for the present moment, and we laid him upon an angareb (stretcher-bedstead), but the men were so heavily laden that it was difficult to find supporters. Lieutenant Baker kindly took one end upon his shoulder, and with the assistance of the guard, we carried him forward. The bugle sounded the "advance."
Again the lances flew across the path, but a few shots with the sniders cleared the way, and leaving the narrow route, we broke our way through the tangled grass, and ascended the slope to the plantain forest. Here, thank goodness, there was no grass. The bugle sounded "halt" in the middle of the plantains.
Sentries having been posted, every man was now employed in felling the tall plantain trees, and in arranging them to form a wall around the camp.
One blow of a sharp, heavy sabre will cut through the stem, thus in a short time, as we all worked, a clearing of about an acre was made, and by sunset we had piled them so as to form a tolerable protection from lances.
Throughout the day it had never ceased raining, thus every one was soaking and miserable. Of course we had no tent, but some invaluable mackintosh camp sheets. I had examined Howarti's wounds, which I knew were mortal. The air as he breathed was rattling through the gash in his stomach. I washed and bandaged him carefully, and gave him a dose of brandy and laudanum.
No one had a drop of water to drink, neither did any one know the direction of the well; but, as all were cold and wet through, no person suffered from thirst. Fortunately, we had matches in a small silver case that had resisted the damp; and after some difficulty and delay, fires were blazing through the little bivouac, and the soldiers and women were crouching round them.
We were comfortable that night, as we had beds to lie upon; but I felt sure it would be for the last time, as it would be necessary to destroy much luggage, the men being too heavily laden.
All was at length still; the soldiers, who were tired, went to sleep, with the exception of the sentries, who were well on the alert.
As I lay on my bed, I thought of the morrow. I knew we should have a trying time, as the whole country would now be thoroughly organized against us. Our start from Masindi had taken them by surprise—thus we had not met with much resistance; but to-morrow would be a fighting day, and I made up my mind to leave the cattle to themselves, as it would be simply impossible to drive them.
The night passed without an attack.
On the following morning, 15th June, poor Howarti was evidently about to die, but the plucky fellow faintly said that he could ride a donkey if assisted. It was impossible to carry him as the path was too narrow for four people to walk beneath a stretcher. He was placed upon a donkey, and supported with difficulty by a man at his side.
I was obliged to pile upon the fire a number of things that we could not carry, including the large oaken stand of the astronomical telescope.
It was 7.30 A.M. before we started.
The troublesome cattle at once began to stray, and I immediately ordered them to be abandoned. I felt certain that in the event of a general attack they would have created great confusion, by probably rushing down the line and overturning the men.
It was the greatest relief to be rid of the animals: thus we marched on merrily at about two and a half miles an hour, through the usual narrow path amidst gigantic grass (now about nine feet high) and thick forest.
In about an hour and a half we arrived at a descent, towards a bottom in which there was a broad, open swamp, with a stream running through the centre.
The advance-guard was not more than a hundred yards from the bottom, and the line was descending the hill in close order, when a sudden uproar broke out, as though all the demons of hell were let loose. Yells, screams, drums, horns, whistles from many thousand concealed enemies, for an instant startled the troops! A tremendous rush in the grass gave notice of a general attack from an immensely powerful ambuscade. The officers did their duty.
Every load was upon the ground, and in a moment alternate files were facing to the right and left, kneeling just as the lances began to fly across the path. The bugles rang out "fire," and the fight commenced on our side.
I saw several lances pass within an inch or two of my wife's head; luckily we were kneeling on one knee. The file-firing was extremely good, and the sniders rattled without intermission. The grass was so dense, that simple buck-shot would be reduced to a very limited range, although excellent at close quarters. The servants quickly handed the elephant breechloaders, and a double shot to the right and left was followed by the loud explosion of the picrate of potash shells against some unseen objects, either men or trees.
A quick repetition of the picrate shells seemed to affect the spirit of the attack. I imagine that the extremely loud explosion of the shells in the midst, and perhaps also in the rear of the enemy, led them to suppose that they were attacked from behind.
It is difficult to say how long the attack continued, but a vast amount of ammunition was expended before the lances ceased to fly through the line, and the drums and horns were at length heard at a greater distance in the rear. The bugle at once sounded the "advance," and I marched the men forward, crossing the stream at the bottom, and gained the open, where we found ourselves in a kind of swampy field of about ten acres. "Ha!" exclaimed many of the soldiers, "if we could only get them on a clear space like this."
The men were mustered. Poor Howarti was dead, and they had left him in the grass by the roadside, as it was impossible to transport him.
The rear-guard had been hotly pressed, and the natives had rushed upon the path close to the sniders, which had punished them severely. Had we depended upon muzzle-loading muskets, the party would have been quickly destroyed; the sharp fire of the sniders at close quarters must have caused immense loss at the first onset.
I now determined to lighten the loads considerably. It was difficult to carry the angarebs, as the leas caught in the high grass. I spoke a few words to my men, who declared that they were not afraid of the natives if they were not so heavily laden.
We collected wood and made a fire, upon which I ordered everything to be burnt that was really cumbersome. The bedsteads were broken up; a case of good French cognac was committed to the flames; Lieutenant Baker's naval uniform, with box, &e.; the cocked hat frizzled up on the top of the bonfire.
The men were provided with raw hides, upon which they slept at night; these were now wet through and cumbersome: I therefore ordered them to be thrown into the high grass and abandoned.
The brandy bottles burst upon the fire. A sergeant of the "Forty Thieves," named Fadlullah, had been attending to the heap of burning materials, and I saw him stoop over the flames, as though intending to save one of the liquor bottles for himself. At this moment several burst and saturated his loose cotton trousers with blazing spirit. The man vainly endeavoured to extinguish the fire, and he danced wildly about, until I seized and threw him down in the swamp, and quickly drew the wet green grass over him and subdued the flames. He was severely burnt about the legs, from which the skin slipped off in large flakes.
I now had to doctor him, when every man's legs ought to have been in the best order. Fortunately I had a little oil (for the lamp), and the wounds were quickly dressed and bandaged with cotton wool and lint.
The force was now much relieved, as the loads had been lightened.
During the operation of burning the supplies, the best shots of the
"Forty Thieves" had been stationed to pick off any natives who attempted
to spy our movements by ascending the lofty trees.
I now gave the order for the advance, and the march recommenced. In a few minutes we were once more buried in the gigantic grass jungle.
We had hardly entered the covert when the shouts and blowing of horns and beating of drums once more commenced. This was the signal to ambuscades in front that we were moving forward.
In the course of an hour's march, the rear bugle had sounded "halt" at least half a dozen times, as two of the donkeys were weakly, and could not be driven on without difficulty.
Again the rear bugle sounded "halt!" I immediately sent the sergeant of the bodyguard, Mohammed-el-Feel, to shoot the donkeys, and to throw their loads into the high grass. Two shots announced their end.
The bugle sounded "advance", and we at length travelled comfortably. The weather was fine: we rejoiced in the sun, as it dried our reeking clothes.
Suddenly the advance-guard opened fire! then the rear-guard was closed upon by a sudden rush of the enemy, and the whole line commenced file-firing into the thick covert.
I ordered the bugler to sound "forward," and "cease firing," as the men were getting a little wild.
One of "The Forty", Ali Goboor, had been wounded by a lance through the leg, but he managed to limp along.
We now began to understand the places at which we were sure to meet an ambuscade. Whenever we descended a slope towards a marshy bottom, there was certain to be a large force concealed behind the lofty reeds that grew in the swamp. I ordered the advance-guard to fire a few shots low down in the reels whenever they should approach these places. By this plan we generally induced the enemy to throw their spears before we were in the midst; in which case we opened a heavy fire into the grass, and marched straight forward.
The ambuscades had been carefully planned. A row of grass of perhaps two or three yards in thickness was left standing in its natural position along the path; behind this vegetable wall, the grass had been either cut down or torn up, so as to afford a clear space for the natives to take a good run when throwing their lances. They accordingly waited until we should enter the snare, and they calculated their opportunity for making a combined attack when they considered that our line of march was exactly opposite. Of course they could not see us through the thick screen of brass any more than we could distinguish them.
We were at an additional disadvantage, as we were always exposed to attacks from fresh enemies; the route was occupied throughout, thus they were not cowed by the defeats of every ambuscade in the rear.
Considering the great numbers of spears that had flown like flashes of light through the line, it was astonishing that we had not had more numerous casualties. Several men had been struck on their knapsacks, which had served as shields.
We at length came to an exceedingly awkward place, that I felt sure would be well occupied. Upon our right lay a row of rocky hills, to which we were marching parallel. We had to descend through forest to low ground. To reach this it was necessary to pass between numerous blocks of granite that completely commanded the path. Each block was about twenty or twenty-five feet high, and several much exceeded this height. The base was the usual high grass and forest.
I ordered the men not to fire unless they should see the enemy, and to take a good aim.
Presently, as we descended through the pass, the attack commenced. Two spears struck Colonel Abd-el-Kader, one in the fore-arm; the second ripped his tough leather gaiter, and glanced off.
The sniders were ready, as the enemy were obliged to show their heads above the rocks, and one fellow, who was exactly above us, either lost his nerve, or received a bullet, which allowed his lance to come rattling down the rocks as a complete failure. I ordered the bugler to continue to sound "forward" (Illah Reh), as it was advisable to push through this awkward place as quickly as possible.
Directly that we were out of the pass, I tied up Abd-el-Kader's arm, and we continued the march until we halted at 2.5 P.M., in a piece of open cultivated ground, where I determined to bivouac for the night.
I had resolved always to finish the day's journey by one march, as it would afford time for erecting a protection of thorns and branches of trees to prevent a sudden night attack.
Fortunately the weather was fine. Abd-el-Kader was now faint and weak from loss of blood. I attended to his wound, which was an ugly gash, and gave him a good dose of brandy, and advised him to go to sleep.
Lieutenant Baker and the other officers assisted in erecting the defence of thorns. All the wet clothes were spread out to dry in the sun, and everything was got ready for the night. I did not care for myself, but I was sorry for the hardship that my wife must endure, without a bed or tent. My men cut two forked poles, upon which they lashed a horizontal bar, which supported a camp-sheet to protect her from rain or dew. A pile of long green grass was laid on the ground beneath, upon which was stretched a mackintosh camp-sheet, and a good thick blanket.
We had been most fortunate in having only a loss of one killed and two wounded since we left Masindi.
My men had fired away an enormous amount of ammunition during the march, as they appeared to become more and more nervous as they advanced. Every thick clump of reeds that rose a few feet higher than the surrounding grass was supposed to conceal an enemy, and it was immediately raked by a hot fire from the advance-guard.
On 16th June, the night having passed quietly, we started at 6.30 A.M., and marched silently.
There was a curious feeling upon first waking in the morning, when we rose and buckled on the ammunition-belts. Every one was aware that his nerves must be upon the stretch, and that his finger must be ready for the trigger, from the commencement till the end of the march, to act against unseen enemies.
Upon arrival at a stream in a muddy bottom, we were immediately attacked by a strong force in ambuscade. Some of the enemy exposed themselves boldly, and rushed upon the soldiers just in front of the rear-guard. Several were shot by the sniders, but one fellow, with unusual pluck, speared a soldier whose musket had missed fire, through the chest. This poor fellow, thus mortally wounded, grappled with his assailant, and tugging the spear from his own wound, he drove it through the native's heart.
The rear bugle sounded "halt," while the knapsack and cartouche-belt were detached from the gallant soldier, whose body was left by the side of his enemy.
We marched until 10.15 A.M., having fought nearly the whole way, and expended a frightful amount of ammunition. We had now arrived at our old halting-place, Chorobeze twenty-seven miles from Masindi.
My men had become so extravagant of their cartridges that I was forced to interfere. If this nervousness should continue, we should be soon left without ammunition, and every soul would be massacred.
I therefore mustered the troops, and examined all their pouches. Some of the advance-guard had fired away eighty rounds each, only during the morning's march!
Many had fired fifty rounds! The muskets had not used so many, owing to the greater difficulty of loading, but they also had been frightfully extravagant.
The men had come to the conclusion that the only plan of marching in safety through the high grass, which was full of unseen enemies, was to constitute themselves into a sort of infernal machine, that would be perpetually emitting fire and bullets on all sides.
This was all very well with an unlimited supply of ammunition, but we had no idea of what might still be in store for us. We were now slightly more than fifty miles from Foweera. Fortunately, in our journey from the river to Masindi, I had timed every march within five minutes, and I had all particulars in my note-book; therefore I could guess the position pretty closely during the morning's advance.
Having mustered all the men, I turned out all the ammunition from their pouches. The cartridges were counted.
I examined all the reserve ammunition.
The total, including that from the men's cartouche-boxes, was cartridges for snider rifles 4,540 and cartridges for muskets 4,330, making a total of 8,870 rounds.
I now addressed the men, and abused them most forcibly, calling them "old women," and several other uncomplimentary epithets for soldiers. I divided among them forty rounds each, and I swore solemnly by their prophet, "that I would not give them another cartridge from this spot (Chorobeze) until we should reach Major Abdullah's detachment at Fatiko."
I explained that if any man should fire away his ammunition, he should continue the march with an empty pouch—Wah Illahi! Illahi !
I gave the most positive command, that in future not a shot should be fired without orders, unless spears actually were thrown; on which occasions the troops would fire a few shots exactly into the spot from which the weapons had arrived; but on no account was a bullet to be fired at random.
I dismissed the men with this warning, and set them to work to construct a night defence as usual.
It was a most fortunate peculiarity of the Unyoros that they did not attack at night-time. This was a grievous fault upon their side. If they had surrounded us every night, they would have kept us awake, and not only would have tired the men out, but they would have caused a useless expenditure of ammunition.
On 17th of June, we started at 6.15 A.M., with the intention of reaching Koki. I recognized several villages, but we passed them without halting. We at length arrived at a fine, broad route, that was sufficiently wide for a dog-cart. This had evidently been recently prepared, and there could be no doubt that it was arranged as a snare that would lead us into some powerful ambuscade. At the same time, the compass showed that the broad path led in the right direction.
I halted the force, and went to the front to examine the road. There was no other path. It was therefore incumbent upon us to keep to the broad route, although we knew that it must lead us to a trap prepared for our destruction.
It was like walking upon ice that was known to be unsafe. We advanced.
For about half an hour we marched without opposition. This was a longer interval than usual to be free from an attack. At length we arrived where the broad road suddenly terminated. The advance-guard halted.
We searched for a path, and at length discovered the original narrow route a few paces to our left.
This had been purposely concealed by grass and boughs.
We had hardly entered this path when we were suddenly attacked. A horsekeeper was wounded by a spear, which passed through his leg, behind the knee, and cut the sinew, thus rendering him helpless. He was immediately placed upon a donkey. The unfortunate lad who led the horse a few paces before me now uttered a wild shriek, as a spear passed completely through his body. The poor boy crept to me on his hands and knees, and asked, "Shall I creep into the grass, Pacha?-where shall I go?" He had not another minute to live.
A spear struck another horsekeeper on the hip, and the soft iron point turned up against the bone in a curve like a fish-hook.
A sharp fire dispersed the enemy, who retired to a distance, yelling and blowing their whistles. The wounded horsekeeper could manage to walk forward.
There is a peculiar bird in the forests of Unyoro which utters a shrill cry, with these notes.
The natives imitate this cry with their whistles of antelope's horn. I had noticed that previous to an attack from an ambuscade, we had always heard the call of this bird.
My Baris declared that the bird warned us of the danger, and cried, "Co-co-me! Co-co-me!" which in their language means, "Look out! look out!"
My soldiers said that the birds exclaimed, "Shat-mo-koor! Shat-mo-koor!" which is the order, "Make ready;" They accordingly always brought their rifles on full cock when they heard the signal.
There was something puzzling this day respecting the distance. According to my calculation, we should leave reached Koki. Still we marched on through high forest and the interminable grass. My wife was dreadfully fatigued. The constant marching in wet boots, which became filled with sand when crossing the small streams and wading through muddy hollows, had made her terribly foot-sore. She walked on with pain and difficulty. I was sure that we had passed the village of Koki, which was surrounded by much open ground and cultivation; and I now felt certain that the broad road, which had been constructed to mislead us, had taken us by the rear of Koki, which we had thus over-shot.
We were marching forward in perfect silence, when I heard a bird cry
"Co-co-me! Co-co-me"!
That instant the spears came among us, and the rifles replied as quick as lightning!
The bugle of the advance-guard sounded "halt". I never liked to hear that order, as something must have gone wrong.
I immediately walked forward, and found that Lieutenant Mohammed Mustapha had been wounded. The spear had struck him just behind the shoulderjoint of the left arm, and had passed over the blade-bone and spine previous to making its exit by the right arm. This was a very nasty wound, and he was bleeding profusely. I made a couple of pads, and, placing one upon each hole, we bandaged him tightly.
I now went up to my poor old horse, "Zafteer". The unfortunate animal was carrying a heavy load, and a large hunting spear had struck him just behind the saddle. The weapon was so sharp and heavy, and had been thrown with such force, that it had penetrated a double blanket, and had not only passed clean through the horse's body, but had also cut through a blanket-fold upon the other side.
A large portion of the bowels protruded, and were hanging a foot below the horse's belly. The intestines were divided, thus death was certain.
As the old horse could still walk, and did not know its own danger, I ordered the advance. I intended to halt at the first convenient point.
In about a quarter of an hour we saw increased light in the distance, and we presently emerged upon a large open vale surrounded by forest. This cheerful space extended over about ten acres, in the centre of which was a well of good water, about fourteen feet deep, and so wide that a man could descend by steps hewn out of the gravel. This was a grand place for the halt.
My first duty was to remove the load, together with the saddle, from my good old horse. I returned the bowels, and having placed a strong pad over the wounds, I passed the roller round his body, and buckled it tight over the pads.
This operation was hardly completed, when a severe shivering fit seized the poor animal, and he fell to the ground to die.
With great sorrow I placed my pistol to the forehead of the faithful old Zafteer, and he died, having carried and laid down his load, together with his life, at the end of the day's march.
I was much distressed at this loss. It seemed that I was to lose all my best and most faithful followers—the good Monsoor, whom to this hour I regret as a brother; the ever-ready and true Howarti; Ferritch Baggara; the unfortunate Ramadan, besides others who were very valuable; and now my old horse was gone.