The Albert N'Yanza, Great Basin of the Nile by Samuel White Baker (love story novels in english .txt) 📕

cantars of tusks.

Eight miles of agreeable march through the usual parklike country

brought us to the village of Fatiko, situated upon a splendid plateau of

rock upon elevated ground with beautiful granite cliffs, bordering a

level tableland of fine grass that would have formed a racecourse. The

high rocks were covered with natives, perched upon the outline like a

flock of ravens.

We halted to rest under some fine trees growing among large isolated

blocks of granite and gneiss. In a short time the natives assembled

around us: they were wonderfully friendly, and insisted upon a personal

introduction to both myself and Mrs. Baker. We were thus compelled to

hold a levee; not the passive and cold ceremony of Europe, but a most

active undertaking, as each native that was introduced performed the

salaam of his country, by seizing both my hands and raising my arms

three times to their full stretch above my head. After about one hundred

Fatikos had been thus gratified by our submission to this infliction,

and our arms had been subjected to at least three hundred stretches

each, I gave the order to saddle the oxen immediately, and we escaped a

further proof of Fatiko affection that was already preparing, as masses

of natives were streaming down the rocks hurrying to be introduced.

Notwithstanding the fatigue of the ceremony, I took a great fancy to

these poor people: they had prepared a quantity of merissa and a sheep

for our lunch, which they begged us to remain and enjoy before we

started; but the pumping action of half a village not yet gratified by a

presentation was too much; and, mounting our oxen, with aching shoulders

we bade adieu to Fatiko.

Descending the picturesque rocky hill of Fatiko, we entered upon a

totally distinct country. We had now before us an interminable sea of

prairies, covering to the horizon a series of gentle undulations

inclining from east to west. There were no trees except the dolape

palms; these were scattered at long intervals in the bright yellow

surface of high grass. The path was narrow, but good, and after an

hour’s march we halted for the night on the banks of a deep and clear

stream, the Un-y-ame;—this stream is perennial, and receiving many

rivulets from Shooa, it forms a considerable torrent during the rainy

season, and joins the Nile in N. lat. 3 degrees 32 minutes at the limit

reached by Signor Miani, 1859, the first traveller who ever attained a

point so far south in Nile explorations from Egypt. There was no wood

for fires, neither dung of animals; thus without fuel we went supperless

to bed. Although the sun was painfully hot during the day, the nights

were so cold (about 55 degrees F) that we could hardly sleep.

For two days we marched through high dry grass, (about ten feet), when a

clear night allowed an observation, and the meridian altitude of Capella

gave latitude 2 degrees 45 minutes 37 seconds. In this interminable sea

of prairie it was interesting to watch our progress south. On the

following day our guide lost the road; a large herd of elephants had

obscured it by trampling hundreds of paths in all directions. The wind

was strong from the north, and I proposed to clear the country to the

south by firing the prairies. There were numerous deep swamps in the

bottoms between the undulations, and upon arrival at one of these green

dells we fired the grass on the opposite side. In a few minutes it

roared before us, and we enjoyed the grand sight of the boundless

prairies blazing like infernal regions, and rapidly clearing a path

south. Flocks of buzzards and the beautiful varieties of flycatchers

thronged to the dense smoke to prey upon the innumerable insects that

endeavoured to escape from the approaching fire.

In about an hour we marched over the black and smoking ground, every now

and then meeting dead stumps of palm trees blazing; until we at length

reached another swamp. There the fire had terminated in its course

south, being stopped by the high green reeds, and it was raging to the

east and west. Again the tedious operation had to be performed, and the

grass was fired in many places on the opposite side of the swamp, while

we waited until the cleared way was sufficiently cool to allow the

march. We were perfectly black, as the wind brought showers of ashes

that fell like snow, but turned us into Ethiopians. I had led the way on

foot from the hour we left Fatiko, as, the country being uninhabited for

five days’ march between that place and Kamrasi’s, the men had more

faith in my steering by the compass than they had in the native guide. I

felt sure that we were being deceived, and that the woman Bacheeta had

directed the guide to take us to Rionga’s. Accordingly that night, when

Canopus was in the meridian, I asked our conductor to point by a star

the direction of Karuma Falls. He immediately pointed to Canopus, which

I knew by Speke’s map should be the direction of Rionga’s islands, and I

charged him with the deceit. He appeared very much astonished, and asked

me “why I wanted a guide if I knew the way?” confessing that Karuma

Falls were “a little to the east of the star.” I thanked Speke and Grant

at that moment, and upon many other occasions, for the map they had so

generously given me! It has been my greatest satisfaction to have

completed their great discovery, and to bear testimony to the

correctness of their map and general observations.

The march was exceedingly fatiguing: there was a swamp at least every

half hour during the day, at each of which we had the greatest

difficulty in driving the oxen, who were above the girths in mud. One

swamp was so deep that we had to carry the luggage piecemeal on an

angarep by about twelve men, and my wife being subjected to the same

operation was too heavy, and the people returned with her as

impracticable. I accordingly volunteered for service, and carried her on

my back; but when in the middle of the swamp, the tenacious bottom gave

way, and I sank, and remained immoveably fixed, while she floundered

froglike in the muddy water. I was extricated by the united efforts of

several men, and she was landed by being dragged through the swamp. We

marched for upwards of ten hours per day, so great were the delays in

crossing the morasses and in clearing off the grass jungle by burning.

On the fourth day we left the prairies, and entered a noble forest; this

was also so choked with high grass that it was impossible to proceed

without burning the country in advance. There had been no semblance of a

path for some time; and the only signs of game that we had seen were the

tracks of elephants and a large herd of buffaloes, the fire having

scared all wild animals from the neighbourhood. An attack of fever

seized me suddenly, and I was obliged to lie down for four or five hours

under a tree until the fit had passed away, when, weak and good for

nothing, I again mounted my ox and rode on. On the 22d January, from an

elevated position in the forest at sunrise, we saw a cloud of fog

hanging in a distant valley, which betokened the presence of the

Somerset river. The guide assured us that we should reach the river that

day. I extract the note from my journal on that occasion:

“Marched, 6h. 20m., reaching the Somerset river, or Victoria White Nile.

I never made so tedious a journey, owing to the delays of grass,

streams, and deep swamps, but since we gained the forest these obstacles

were not so numerous. Many tracks of elephants, rhinoceros, and

buffaloes; but we saw nothing. Halted about eighty feet above the river;

altitude above sea level, by observation, 3,864 ft. I went to the river

to see if the other side was inhabited; saw two villages on an island;

the natives came across in a canoe, bringing the BROTHER OF RIONGA with

them; the guide, as I had feared during the journey, has deceived us,

and taken us direct to Rionga’s country. On the north side the river all

is uninhabited forest, full of buffalo and elephant pitfalls, into which

three of our cattle have already fallen, including my beautiful riding

ox, which is thus so sprained as to be rendered useless. “The natives at

first supposed we were Mahommed Wat-el-Mek’s people, but finding their

mistake they would give no information, merely saying that the lake was

not far from here. They said ‘they were friends of Mahommed’s people who

attacked Kamrasi, and Rionga being his enemy became their ally.’ I must

now be very careful, lest the news should reach Kamrasi that I am in

Rionga’s country, which would cut off all chance of travelling in

Unyoro. “The slave woman, Bacheeta, secretly instructed the guide to

lead us to Rionga instead of to Kamrasi, precisely as I had suspected.

The Karuma Falls are a day’s march east of this, at which point we must

cross the river. Obtained a clear observation of Capella, meridian

altitude showing latitude 2 degrees 18 minutes N.”

We could get no supplies from Rionga’s people, who returned to their

island after their conference with Bacheeta, promising to send us some

plantains and a basket of flour; but upon gaining their secure retreat

they shouted, “that we might go to Kamrasi if we liked, but that we

should receive no assistance from them.” Early in the morning we started

for Karuma. This part of the forest was perfectly open, as the grass had

been burnt by the natives about three weeks ago, and the young shoots of

the vines were appearing from the scorched roots; among other plants was

an abundance of the prickly asparagus, of which I collected a basketful.

Nothing could exceed the beauty of the march. Our course through the

noble forest was parallel with the river, that roared beneath us on our

right in a succession of rapids and falls between high cliffs covered

with groves of bananas and varieties of palms, including the graceful

wild date–the certain sign of either marsh or river. The Victoria Nile

or Somerset river was about 150 yards wide; the cliffs on the south side

were higher than those upon the north, being about 150 feet above the

river. These heights were thronged with natives, who had collected from

the numerous villages that ornamented the cliffs situated among groves

of plantains; they were armed with spears and shields; the population

ran parallel to our line of march, shouting and gesticulating as though

daring us to cross the river.

After a most enjoyable march through the exciting scene of the glorious

river crashing over innumerable falls—and in many places ornamented

with rocky islands, upon which were villages and plantain groves—we at

length approached the Karuma Falls, close to the village of Atada above

the ferry. The heights were crowded with natives, and a canoe was sent

across to within parleying distance of our side, as the roar of the

rapids prevented our voices from being heard except at a short distance.

Bacheeta now explained, that SPEKE’S BROTHER had arrived from his

country to pay Kamrasi a visit, and had brought him valuable presents.”

“Why has he brought so many men with him?” inquired the people from the

canoe.

“There are so many presents for the M’Kamma (King) that he has many men

to carry them,” shouted Bacheeta.

“Let us look at him!” cried the headman in the boat: having prepared for

the introduction by