The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile by Samuel White Baker (best ebook reader for chromebook .txt) 📖

and the spurs must be at work at the very

commencement of the hunt, and the horse pressed along at his best pace;

it must be a race at top speed from the start, but, should the giraffe

be allowed the slightest advantage for the first five minutes, the race

will be against the horse.

 

I was riding “Filfil,” my best horse for speed, but utterly useless for

the gun. I had a common regulation-sword hanging on my saddle in lieu of

the long Arab broadsword that I had lost at Obbo, and starting at full

gallop at the same instant as the giraffes, away we went over the

beautiful park. Unfortunately Richarn was a bad rider, and I, being

encumbered with a rifle, had no power to use the sword. I accordingly

trusted to ride them down and to get a shot, but I felt that the

unsteadiness of my horse would render it very uncertain. The wind

whistled in my ears as we flew along over the open plain. The grass was

not more than a foot high, and the ground hard; the giraffes about four

hundred yards distant steaming along, and raising a cloud of dust from

the dry earth, as on this side of the mountains there had been no rain.

Filfil was a contradiction; he loved a hunt and had no fear of wild

animals, but he went mad at the sound of a gun. Seeing the magnificent

herd of about fifteen giraffes before him, the horse entered into the

excitement and needed no spur—down a slight hollow, flying over the dry

buffalo holes, now over a dry watercourse and up the incline on the

other side—then again on the level, and the dust in my eyes from the

cloud raised by the giraffes showed that we were gaining in the race;

misericordia!—low jungle lay before us—the giraffes gained it, and

spurring forward through a perfect cloud of dust now within a hundred

yards of the game we shot through the thorny bushes. In another minute

or two I was close up, and a splendid bull giraffe was crashing before

me like a locomotive obelisk through the mimosas, bending the elastic

boughs before him in his irresistible rush, which sprang back with a

force that would have upset both horse and rider had I not carefully

kept my distance. The jungle seemed alive with the crowd of orange red,

the herd was now on every side, as I pressed the great bull before me.

Oh for an open plain! I was helpless to attack, and it required the

greatest attention to keep up the pace through the thick mimosas without

dashing against their stems and branches. The jungle became thicker, and

although I was in the middle of the herd and within ten yards of several

giraffes, I could do nothing. A mass of thick and tangled thorns now

received them, and closed over the hardly-contested race—I was beaten.

 

Never mind, it was a good hunt—first-rate—but where was my camp? It

was nearly dark, and I could just distinguish the pass in the distance,

by which we had descended the mountain; thus I knew the direction but I

had ridden about three miles, and it would be dark before I could

return. However, I followed the heel tracks of the herd of giraffes.

Richarn was nowhere. Although I had lost the race, and was disappointed,

I now consoled myself that it was all for the best; had I killed a

giraffe at that hour and distance from camp, what good would it have

been? I was quite alone; thus who could have found it during the night?

and before morning it would have been devoured by lions and hyenas;

inoffensive and beautiful creatures, what a sin it appeared to destroy

them uselessly! With these consoling and practical reflections I

continued my way, until a branch of hooked thorn fixing in my nose

disturbed the train of ideas and persuaded me that it was very dark, and

that I had lost my way, as I could no longer distinguish either the

tracks of the giraffes or the position of the mountains. Accordingly I

fired my rifle as a signal, and soon after I heard a distant report in

reply, and the blaze of a fire shot up suddenly in the distance on the

side of the mountain. With the help of this beacon I reached the spot

where our people were bivouacked; they had lighted the beacon on a rock

about fifty feet above the level, as although some twenty or thirty

fires were blazing, they had been obscured by the intervening jungle. I

found both my wife and my men in an argumentative state as to the

propriety of my remaining alone so late in the jungle; however, I also

found dinner ready; the angareps (stretcher bedsteads) arranged by a

most comfortable blazing fire, and a glance at the star-lit heavens

assured me of a fine night—what more can man wish for?—wife, welcome,

food, fire, and fine weather?

 

The bivouac in the wilderness has many charms; there is a complete

independence—the sentries are posted, the animals picketed and fed, and

the fires arranged in a complete circle around the entire party—men,

animals, and luggage all within the fiery ring; the sentries alone being

on the outside. There is a species of ironwood that is very inflammable,

and being oily, it burns like a torch; this grew in great quantities,

and the numerous fires fed with this vigorous fuel enlivened the bivouac

with a continual blaze. My men were busy, baking their bread. On such

occasions an oven is dispensed with. A prodigious fire is made while the

dough is being prepared; this, when well moistened, is formed into a

cake about two feet in diameter, but not thicker than two inches. The

fire being in a fit state of glowing ash, a large hole is scraped in the

centre, in which the flat cake is laid, and the red-hot embers are raked

over it; thus buried it will bake in about twenty minutes, but the dough

must be exceedingly moist or it will burn to a cinder.

 

On the following day we arrived at Latooka, where I found everything in

good order at the depot, and the European vegetables that I had sown

were all above ground. Commoro and a number of people came to meet us.

 

There had been but little rain at Latooka since we left, although it had

been raining heavily at Obbo daily, and there was no difference in the

dry sandy plain that surrounded the town, neither was there any

pasturage for the animals except at a great distance.

 

The day after my arrival, Filfil was taken ill and died in a few hours.

Tetel had been out of condition ever since the day of his failure during

the elephant hunt, and he now refused his food. Sickness rapidly spread

through my animals; five donkeys died within a few days, and the

remainder looked poor. Two of my camels died suddenly, having eaten the

poison-bush. Within a few days of this disaster my good old hunter and

companion of all my former sports in the Base country, Tetel, died.

These terrible blows to my expedition were most satisfactory to the

Latookas, who ate the donkeys and other animals the moment they died. It

was a race between the natives and the vultures as to who should be

first to profit by my losses.

 

Not only were the animals sick, but my wife was laid up with a violent

attack of gastric fever, and I was also suffering from daily attacks of

ague. The smallpox broke out among the Turks. Several people died; and,

to make matters worse, they insisted upon inoculating themselves and all

their slaves; thus the whole camp was reeking with this horrible

disease.

 

Fortunately my camp was separate and to windward. I strictly forbade my

men to inoculate themselves, and no case of the disease occurred among

my people, but it spread throughout the country. Smallpox is a scourge

among the tribes of Central Africa, and it occasionally sweeps through

the country and decimates the population.

 

Among the natives of Obbo, who had accompanied us to Latooka, was a man

named Wani, who had formerly travelled far to the south, and had offered

to conduct Ibrahim to a country rich in ivory that had never been

visited by a trader: this man had accordingly been engaged as guide arid

interpreter. In an examination of Wani I discovered that the

cowrie-shells were brought from a place called “Magungo.” This name I

had previously heard mentioned by the natives, but I could obtain no

clue to its position. It was most important that I should discover the

exact route by which the cowries arrived from the south, as it would be

my guide to that direction. The information that I received from Wani at

Latooka was excessively vague, and upon most slender data I founded my

conclusions so carefully that my subsequent discoveries have rendered

most interesting the first scent of the position which I eventually

followed with success. I accordingly extract, verbatim, from my journal

the note written by me at Latooka on the 26th of May, 1863, when I first

received the clue to the Albert N’yanza: “I have had a long examination

of Wani, the guide and interpreter, respecting the country of Magungo.

Loggo, the Bari interpreter, has always described Magungo as being on a

large river, and I have concluded that it must be the Asua; but, upon

cross-examination, I find he has used the word ‘Bahr’ (in Arabic

signifying river or sea) instead of ‘Birke’ (lake). This important error

being discovered gives a new feature to the geography of this part.”

 

According to his description, Magungo is situated on a lake so large

that no one knows its limits. Its breadth is such that, if you journey

two days east and the same distance west, there is no land visible on

either quarter, while to the south its direction is utterly unknown.

Large vessels arrive at Magungo from distant and unknown parts, bringing

cowrie-shells and beads in exchange for ivory. Upon these vessels white

men have been seen. All the cowrie-shells used in Latooka and the

neighbouring countries are supplied by these vessels, but none have

arrived for the last two years.

 

“His description of distance places Magungo on about the 2 degrees N.

lat. The lake can be no other than the ‘N’yanza,’ which, if the position

of Magungo be correct, extends much farther north than Speke had

supposed. The ‘white men’ must be Arab traders who bring cowries from

Zanzibar. I shall take the first opportunity to push for Magungo. I

imagine that country belongs to Kamrasi’s brother, as Wani says the king

has a brother who is king of a powerful country on the west bank of the

Nile but that they are ever at war with each other.

 

“I examined another native who had been to Magungo to purchase Simbi

(the cowrie-shell); he says that a white man formerly arrived there

annually, and brought a donkey with him in a boat; that he disembarked

his donkey and rode about the country, dealing with the natives, and

bartering cowries and brass-coil bracelets. This man had no firearms,

but wore a sword. The king of Magungo was called ‘Cherrybambi.’”

 

This information was the first clue to the facts that I subsequently

established, and the account of the white men (Arabs) arriving at

Magungo was confirmed by the people of that country twelve months after

I obtained this vague information at Latooka.

 

Arabs, being simply brown, are called WHITE men by the blacks of these

countries. I was called a VERY white man as a distinction, but I have

frequently been obliged to take off my shirt to exhibit