Ismailia by Sir Samuel White Baker (affordable ebook reader .txt) 📕

/> "Bismillah!" away flew the net, which fell in a circle, exactly in the spot desired.

It was amusing to watch the usually stolid countenance of Howarti, that was now expressive of intense curiosity.

The crown-line jerked and tugged even more than at the first lucky throw. Howarti cleverly and cautiously landed his net. It contained a regular "miraculous draught," including a Nile carp of about nine pounds.

"That will do, Howarti," I exclaimed; "we have fish enough for all the people on the diahbeeah, as well as for the officers of 'The Forty.'" The basket would not contain them; therefore the larger fish were laid upon grass in the bottom of the boat, and we returned home.

Howarti now divided the fish according to orders, and explained to the delighted crowd the extraordinary effect of the word "Bismillah," which insured a netful at every cast.

On the following morning, at sunrise, the now pious Howarti went out as usual with his casting-net accompanied by a sailor, who carried the largest basket he could procure.

We had moved our position, and there was no sand-bank in the neighbourhood.

After an absence of about two hours, Howarti returned, together with his companion and the large basket. This contained a few small fish hardly sufficient for our breakfast.

"Ah, Howarti!" I exclaimed, "you are a bad Mussulman--you have forgotten to say 'Bismillah.'"

"Indeed," replied the dejected fisherman, "I repeated 'Bismillah' at every cast; but it's of no use saying 'Bismillah' in deep water; nothing will catch them in the deep, and I can catch them without 'Bismillah' in the shallows."

Howarti was not a fanatical Mohammedan. Poor fellow he never lived to return with us to Khartoum: his melancholy death will be described hereafter.

In fishing in the lake at Gondokoro Howarti had the usual charge of the proceedings. We dragged a boat across the neck of land from the river, and having launched it, we first laid a stop net 140 yards in length along the bank of bulrushes that grew in water about five feet deep; this was to stop the fish from running into the rushes on the advance of the drag-net.

We now dragged a portion of the lake towards the stop-net, intending to land it upon an incline where the water was extremely shallow.

The "Forty Thieves" hauled away steadily enough until the net came close in. At that moment several immense fish dashed about within the narrowed inclosure; these created such excitement, that the men rushed into the water to secure them, which ended in the escape of the greater portion of the fish.

The next haul was very successful, and after fishing for about two hours, we caught 434 fine fish, one of which weighed 40 lbs. and another 26 lbs. I sent 200 to head-quarters for the troops.

The greater number of these fish were boulti and baggera, both of which are species of perch, and are delicious eating. I have never caught a boulti larger than five pounds, but the baggera grows to an immense size, and I have seen them about 150 lbs. or more. I once weighed a baggera upwards of 130 lbs., but they are said to attain a weight of several hundreds.

I have formerly described the beauty of this salmon-coloured fish in "The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia."

It is well known that in all countries the same species of fish differs in flavour and quality according to the water in which it is caught; thus the boulti and baggera are almost worthless in the lower Nile, compared with the same fish of the upper river.

Travellers may often unjustly condemn a fish as worthless, because it may have been out of season when they had the opportunity of eating it.

I never tasted any fresh-water fish superior to a boulti, slightly salted, and smoked for twelve or eighteen hours.

In hot climates all fish should be split down the back, and laid open; they should then be salted and should lie for a few hours to drain; after which they should be hung over the smoke of a dry-wood fire. This treatment renders them delicious for immediate use, but if required to keep, they must be smoked for a couple of days, and then be highly dried in the sun.

The 14th December was the Mohammedan holiday called the "Ume el Ete," on which day every person, however poor he or she may be, is supposed to dress in new clothes.

We had now been upwards of twelve months without communication with Khartoum. The soldiers' clothes were reduced to rags, as they had suffered much from hard work and fighting in thorny bush. The whole force was in despair: they were in arrears of pay, they were without clothes; the festival was close at hand, and instead of turning out in finery, they would be dirty, dingy, and ragged.

Every one was downcast. The troops could not possibly start with me to the interior, to represent the government in a state of rags or nudity.

On 13th December, the day preceding the festival, I summoned the officers to the magazine, in which I fortunately had all that could be required. The merchandise and general stores that I had purchased in England had no connection with the army clothing and stores which should have been supplied for the troops from Khartoum. This supply had been impossible owing to the state of the river.

I served out new clothing for the entire expedition. I arranged that 212 officers and men should accompany me to the interior. To these I gave scarlet flannel shirts and white trousers. The officers received all that they required, and the men were allowed to purchase from the government stores any articles that they considered necessary for themselves or their wives. (There was no cash at Gondokoro; thus, in the absence of pay, the soldiers were contented with the supplies from the magazine which furnished all their wants.)

On 14th December the cannons fired at sunrise to proclaim the holiday. I rode up to head-quarters and inspected the troops on parade, all in their new uniforms. Every man was in a good humour, and they burst out into three cheers as I completed the inspection and addressed a few words to them.

The men's wives were decked out with gaudy colours, and were happy in proportion to the amount of red and yellow.

The troops and sailors were astonished at the unfailing contents of the magazines, which established confidence that should we be positively cut off from all communication with Khartoum, we were nevertheless independent of supplies.

Everything was in order at Gondokoro. The natives were at peace; food was abundant; the station securely fortified.

I now determined to penetrate into the south, and to carry a steamer in sections to N. lat. 3 degrees 32 minutes, where she would be constructed by the Englishmen, and launched on the navigable river above the last cataracts, to open the communication with the Albert N'yanza.

All intrigues and opposition to the expedition had been overcome. Although my force was small, the men were full of confidence, and promised to follow wheresoever I might lead.


CHAPTER XIV.

THE ADVANCE SOUTH.

Military critics will condemn my arrangements for an advance south.

My original plans had been well laid. A line of fortified posts was to have been established throughout the country at intervals of three days' march. This would have assured an open communication with Gondokoro.

Unfortunately, my force had been 350 men short of the number stipulated; and the 1,200 men that had once been reviewed at Gondokoro had been reduced to 500.

I could not leave a smaller force at head-quarters than 340 men, including the 52 sailors; thus I was left with only 212 officers and men to commence a long and uncertain journey directly away from my base, without the power of communication in the event of unforeseen difficulty.

I had already experienced the treachery of natives, upon whom no reliance could be placed.

My intention was to leave the Englishmen, with the steamer sections, at a station to be formed at Ibrahimeyeh (Afuddo on the map) on the navigable Nile, N. lat. 3 degrees 32 minutes, together with a small garrison.

I should then endeavour to form an irregular corps of some of Abou Saood's men, who would be thrown out of employment at the expiration of the contract. This was near at hand.

An irregular corps of 600 men would, in addition to my 200, enable me to complete the annexation of the country, and to finish my work before the reinforcements should arrive from Khartoum.

On the other hand, the men of Abou Saood might refuse to enlist in government service. Already they had been rendered passively hostile by the influence of Abou Saood. They had secretly encouraged the Baris in their war against the government; they might repeat this conduct, and incite the tribes against us in the interior.

Should this occur, I should be placed in a dangerous position with so small a force, as it would be necessary to detach half the little body to march to Gondokoro for supports.

I could not defer my departure in the hope of receiving reinforcements from Khartoum, as their arrival would be quite uncertain, owing to the state of the river.

Should I delay at Gondokoro, the dry season would pass by; the ground, now baked hard by the sun, would become soft, and would render transport by carts impossible.

The torrents would become impassable during the rains, especially the river Asua, which in the wet season cuts off all communication with the south. This dangerous river was very important, as it would prevent a retreat should such a movement be necessary during the rainy season.

I was well aware of the difficulties of the position, but I had only the choice of two evils. If I remained at Gondokoro, my term of service would expire fruitlessly. I should simply have reduced the Baris, and have established the station. Abou Saood would remain in the interior among his numerous slave establishments, to ridicule my impotence, and to defy my orders that he should quit the country. He would thus continue in the heart of Africa until I should have returned helplessly to England. He would then have resumed his original work of spoliation. The expedition would have been a failure.

On the other hand, should my small force meet with defeat or destruction, both the military and the civil world would exclaim, "Serve him right! the expedition to the interior made under such circumstances showed a great want of judgment; a total ignorance of the first rules in military tactics. What could he expect, without an established communication, at a distance of three or four hundred miles from his base? Simple madness !--not fit to command!" &c. &c. &c.

I knew the risks and the responsibility; but if I remained passive, I should be beaten. I had often got through difficulties, and if risks are to be measured in Africa by ordinary calculations, there would be little hope of progress.

I determined to carry as large a supply of ammunition as could be transported, together with sufficient merchandise, carefully assorted, to establish a legitimate ivory trade in my old friend Kamrasi's country, Unyoro (The Unyoro country is called by the traders "Magungo.")

The Englishmen would be occupied in the construction of the steamer at Ibrahimeyeh, while I should accomplish my mission farther south.

I selected my officers and men, carefully avoiding Egyptian officers, with the exception of my true