Thus patiently waiting, each daily duty was accomplished. Then came alarming news from the north. Kerem Allah spread broadcast this proclamation of the Mahdi written in the bombastic style of the Orient:
“In the name of God, the all merciful, all pitiful! Glory to God, our gracious Lord and our prayers and submission to our master Mohammed and his own.“This from Mohammed, the Mahdi, Son of Abdallah, to his representative, Kerem Allah, son of the Sheik Mohammed, upon whom may God shine in His goodness and ever protect. Amen!“Receive from me this greeting and the mercy and blessing of God. I desire you to know that in accordance with the unfailing promises of God and His unchanging goodness, the city of Khartoum was captured with the help of the Living and Eternal on Monday, the ninth Rebi Ahir of the current year, early in the morning. The soldiers of the faithful stormed the entrenchments with faith in God, the Lord of the world, and in a quarter of an hour or less the enemies of God fell into their hands. They were destroyed to the very last one and their defences also. Although they were strong they were shattered at the first attack of the army of God and sought safety by rushing into the villages, but our army followed them and slew them all with sword and lance. The others who had closed their doors in their fright were taken prisoners and killed and only a few of the women and children were spared. But Gordon, the enemy of God, whom we have often admonished and warned to desist and surrender to God, has never consented since he was a rebel and leader before. So he met his fate, reaping what he had sowed, and God sent him to the place of His wrath, and thus the house of the unjust was destroyed, thanks be to God, Lord of the world, who chastises those who deserve it with fire and rewards the just with a home in Paradise. God protect thee from the faithless, Amen, with the sanction of the Highest and Greatest, the Sender of good. Only ten of our own followers died the death of faith in this victory and no others were injured. This is the mercy of God and from him is the victory for which we give Him thanks. And do the same and take my greeting.Kerem AllahRepresentative of the Mahdi in Bahr-el-Ghazal and Hat-el-EstivaJanuary 28, 1885
“In the name of God, the all merciful, all pitiful! Glory to God, our gracious Lord and our prayers and submission to our master Mohammed and his own.
“This from Mohammed, the Mahdi, Son of Abdallah, to his representative, Kerem Allah, son of the Sheik Mohammed, upon whom may God shine in His goodness and ever protect. Amen!
“Receive from me this greeting and the mercy and blessing of God. I desire you to know that in accordance with the unfailing promises of God and His unchanging goodness, the city of Khartoum was captured with the help of the Living and Eternal on Monday, the ninth Rebi Ahir of the current year, early in the morning. The soldiers of the faithful stormed the entrenchments with faith in God, the Lord of the world, and in a quarter of an hour or less the enemies of God fell into their hands. They were destroyed to the very last one and their defences also. Although they were strong they were shattered at the first attack of the army of God and sought safety by rushing into the villages, but our army followed them and slew them all with sword and lance. The others who had closed their doors in their fright were taken prisoners and killed and only a few of the women and children were spared. But Gordon, the enemy of God, whom we have often admonished and warned to desist and surrender to God, has never consented since he was a rebel and leader before. So he met his fate, reaping what he had sowed, and God sent him to the place of His wrath, and thus the house of the unjust was destroyed, thanks be to God, Lord of the world, who chastises those who deserve it with fire and rewards the just with a home in Paradise. God protect thee from the faithless, Amen, with the sanction of the Highest and Greatest, the Sender of good. Only ten of our own followers died the death of faith in this victory and no others were injured. This is the mercy of God and from him is the victory for which we give Him thanks. And do the same and take my greeting.
Kerem Allah
Representative of the Mahdi in Bahr-el-Ghazal and Hat-el-Estiva
January 28, 1885
A SERIOUS ACCIDENT TO EMIN
A SERIOUS ACCIDENT TO EMIN
Upon the heels of these dreadful tidings came the news that Amadi had fallen. Singularly enough this lesser calamity made more impression than the terrible event at Khartoum, for the connection with Egypt was now forever broken and all hope of help from the north vanished. But as false reports had come from Kerem Allah so frequently they simply did not believe it, but regarded it rather as an invention intended to induce Emin to surrender. Great differences of opinion existed as to the measures to be adopted. Some were in favor of retreating northward, but Emin regarded the road to the south as the only right one. The force of Kerem Allah was only five miles distant and in one day they could reach Lado and then there would no longer be room for hope.
Captain Casati, an Italian traveller, who was in Lado at this time, as it was too hot at Bahr-el-Ghazal, vigorously opposed Emin’s decision. “I know that the danger is imminent,” he said, “but that is no reason why we should fly.”
“But what else can we do?”
“Defend ourselves. Lado cannot fall in a short time. The enemy cannot long maintain a siege with many people, for the country is destitute of subsistence. He must buy corn at Makraka and that is a long way off.”
“But they are already well provided. The Arabs supply them with everything they need, and we here in Lado, even if we are not overcome by arms, will perish from hunger.”
“That cannot be possible. We have the river behind us. We can get corn from the fertile country of Gondokoro.”
“Yes, but if we go southward we will find corn in the country of the Mahdi, and if we get through to Lut it will be easy for us to establish communication with Unjoro and Uganda.”
“My dear Doctor, do you not think the retreat will be even more difficult and dangerous than the defence?”
“How? What have we to fear?”
“Kerem Allah, you say, is marching victoriously against Lado. Before he succeeds he will find out what direction we are taking for our retreat. He will follow us, not by way of the river, but by a shorter route across the country. Imagine yourself attacked from the heights and cut off from the river and tell me then if there will not be a catastrophe.”
“What would you do? What do you think?”
“Leave the country by the northeast. But to do this the retreat must be made cautiously and quietly. I am not speaking of the soldiers. Alarmed by the fall of Amadi, they will not resist a retreat. And if we take a northward route, they will be more confident and follow.”
“And do you think that such a plan, if I submit it to my officers, will be accepted?”
“Without doubt. They will depend upon the assurances of their master as usual and give their full consent.”
In the morning after this conversation Emin held a council in the divan at which all the officers and officials were present. The decision was left to them whether they should go north or south. “To the south,” was the universal answer. Possibly they had the feeling that Emin favored that direction.
Casati was very indignant, but Emin was right. Going to the north through a country subject to the Mahdi, with distant Egypt as their terminus, while Khartoum lay in ashes, was going to certain death. Certainly if the governor had acted without the consent of his people, they would have believed the senseless report that he would sell them as slaves in Unjoro and there make his escape to the coast alone. Emin’s black soldiers were not accustomed to yield absolute obedience. From time to time their opposition had to be overcome by the lash, and who can say that they might not finally have made a successful resistance when they found themselves leaving their homes and wandering about in unknown regions? In the meantime Emin went south with his whole force, officials, wives, and children, and piles of baggage to establish himself at his residence in Madelai. No Mahdist disturbed the expedition nor did they hear of pursuit or any attempt to cut them off. Casati had taken too gloomy a view of the situation.
In Madelai they heard nothing of the fearful hordes of Kerem Allah. The people gladly turned to farm labor and the looms were at work again. Emin resumed his scientific pursuits and had it not been for his utter seclusion from the world and his lack of ammunition which had been nearly exhausted in subduing the savages in his vicinity, he and his people, who were absolutely loyal to him, might have been glad to remain to the end of their lives in this lost nook of the world. It was imperative, however, to secure the possibility of return, and on this account Casati was sent to King Kabrega at Unjoro, whom Emin had previously known and who had given him many proofs of his friendship.
On the second of June, 1886, Casati had a public audience with King Kabrega. The monarch wore an elegant cloak of wonderful fineness and a red head-covering in the Arab style. He sat in a great armchair with his “exalted” feet resting upon a beautiful leopard skin. His colossal figure, which was above the ordinary height, an expressive countenance, rather overbearing than friendly, and his very ready tongue and studied movements made a pleasant impression upon everyone who met him for the first time. His first-born son sat at his left, upon a stool, the others standing. His leaders were camped in a circle about the cabins, sitting, Arab fashion, upon the ground covered with green papyrus. Behind the king there hung a silk drapery of Indian handiwork, brought from Zanzibar, and behind this drapery from time to time children’s faces, full of curiosity, peeped out. Six youths of the most distinguished families, with weapons in their hands, stood around the throne. Casati sat at the right of the king, a few steps distant, and presented the message of the governor.
Emin requested a free and open way for the transmission of his letters to the coast, free passage of soldiers and officials to Egypt, and lastly the privilege of securing produce from the merchants of Unjoro and the sending of a representative to Madelai. The king seemingly assented to all the propositions, but Casati quickly observed that a hostile faction ruled him and that his good intentions might not be carried out. The passage of the post was permitted, but letters coming from the coast had to be submitted to certain conditions. Troops were also allowed free passage, but only in single detachments and a limited number at a time, which made it easy to attack and destroy them. Kabrega agreed to send a representative to Madelai and was generous in words and promises for his “doctor friend,” as he called the governor. The second audience took place on the tenth of October, 1886.
“The governor,” said Casati, “begs permission to establish two military stations on the lake” (Albert Lake).
“And what are you going to do at the lake?”
“The soldiers at the northern stations are in daily danger of attack by the rebels at Khartoum.”
“So, you intend to take possession of my territory?”
“On the contrary, our stay will be short. At a favorable opportunity we will withdraw and you will not only be ruler of Schuli and Lut, but will have the warehouses which are well supplied with ivory, iron, and brass. The two Egyptian steamers in a short time will enable you to compare in resources with Waganda. But why do no brokers come here? It seems impossible that Mackay [a business friend in Zanzibar], after all the promises he has made us, should not be interested in our favor.”
“The Wagandans have placed obstacles in the brokers’ way. But have the Arabs never delivered letters or newspapers to you?”
“No, we should not venture to avail ourselves of their services without your permission. But we are not concerned about the Arabs leaving us, for the moment we have the royal word that is sufficient security for us.”
“Yes, you can depend upon me. I am Emin Pasha’s friend.”
“Then will you grant what I have asked?”
“This very moment I grant what my friend asks. Establish your stations on the lake. I will issue orders to my chiefs to furnish corn to the soldiers who are stationed there.”
“I pray you for another favor.”
“Speak. I am ready to grant whatever you wish.”
“Biri [an Arab trader] left the coast for here two months ago and is detained by your people on the frontier. Issue an order for them to let him come.”
“And how do you know Biri is there?”
“I know it.”
“Who told you about it?”
“No one.”
“It cannot be possible.”
“Oh yes, very possible. Listen to me. When Dr. Junker left [Junker went to Zanzibar when all hope of going to the northern route vanished] he promised the governor to send necessary supplies by Biri. It is not only possible, but certain, that he must be here.”
“Biri is sent to make trouble in my kingdom. He shall not set foot in it.”
“You are wrong. He must come. We are here in consequence of your express assurances. We expect that they will be carried out.”
“It is my people who do not wish Biri to come here. I cannot oppose them. It is for my interest to keep their good-will.”
“It is the evil Abd Rahmann [one of Kabrega’s ministers] who is ruining your country with his pernicious influence.”
“I am the king. I command and do not need instruction from anyone as to my duties.”
“I well understand the truth hurts you, but you cannot prevent it being told to you. Emin Pasha wishes Biri to come. If you do not obey, he will feel compelled to resort to other means.”
“And what?”
“He will write to Said Bargash of the Egyptian government. What will you say then?”
“By what route can he send letters if I close mine?”
“By a hundred ways, for there are as many. He first applied to you because he regarded you as a friend and not because necessity forced him to.”
“It is not possible that Emin would have thought of this if you had not made the suggestion. This plan for my disadvantage originated with you.”
“It is an honest man who is speaking to you. If I had been dishonest I would have overwhelmed you with compliments to secure your favor and attention.”
“Biri shall come in the morning.”
“Good! I thank you.”
Biri came and Emin awaited him with his steamer. His joy was great, for the supplies were urgently needed. He went back with a handsome quantity of ivory to be used in exchange and left hope in all hearts for the future. But things went far differently in Unjoro. The old minister Katagora, Emin’s stanch friend, died suddenly and, as was openly declared, by poison. On the morning of his death the king declared that from now on he would rule with the small and no longer be influenced by the great, and the dying minister suddenly heard at the door of the palace a crowd of boys shouting, “He’s dying now.”
It was only his inordinate eagerness for ivory and weapons that induced Kabrega’s apparent friendship. His hostile feelings began daily to reveal themselves. Merchants were strictly forbidden to sell their wares to Emin’s people. One Abu Bekr, who brought supplies for the government from Uganda, was set upon, robbed, and driven across the borders. The natives were forbidden to sell corn and other produce to Casati. The ivory sent to the king as compensation for allowing Biri’s caravan to pass through the country was sent back.
“The horns of my cows,” said Kabrega, who was very proud of his herds, to Casati, “are longer than the elephant tusks you have sent me. I don’t know what to do with them.”
“I am sorry,” replied Casati, “that the king disturbs our good relations upon such empty pretences. So far as the ivory is concerned, I will hold it subject to his orders.”
The whole of the next year was occupied in diplomatic efforts to secure the good-will of Kabrega, but he had learned that Emin’s strength was not so very great and Casati, who would not forsake his post or do anything to diminish the importance of the governor, was treated disrespectfully. On the third of January, a messenger came from the south with the news that Europeans with a well-armed force, in Zanzibar dress, had arrived there. “God be thanked for his help in time of need.” But Casati was rejoicing too soon, for the arrival of the strangers exposed him to new dangers.
The report of this invasion by armed Europeans of course reached Kabrega and aroused all his suspicions. Had he not already conjectured that Emin would construct those stations on the lake because he had designs upon his country? All his promises to withdraw from the stations some day and leave him with great riches were nothing but empty deceit! Now help was coming from the south, a strong army with European guns, that would attack his country on two sides, capture Unjoro and settle down there as white men had often treated other negro races. But this treacherous messenger who had deceived him all the time and kept him to suspense should pay the penalty. Casati knew his danger, but he faced it bravely. On the ninth of January, 1888, the Vizier Guakamatera invited him to come and see him. Casati went with Biri, who was there at the time, and his faithful companions, to the house of the great dignitary. What was their astonishment as they came in sight of it to find it surrounded by a large armed force! Biri whispered, “Let us go back.”
“It is useless. We must go forward and hasten our steps,” said Casati.
At the foot of an ancient tree, which was majestic in the abundance of its foliage as well as in its height, sat the high priest with the minor magicians around him. He wore a splendid turban of red stuff, decorated with glass pearls and shells, and from his temples projected two ox horns upon which hung little wooden talismans. In his left hand he held a great horn filled with a magic powder and in his right the conjuring staff. He wore a white cloak of oxhide fastened to his left shoulder and sat upon a small stool in a serious manner befitting his high dignity.
The palace door opened, trumpets sounded, and the vizier appeared, surrounded by soldiers. The troops scattered about the place, savage, naked figures with rattling iron rings fastened to their feet and hands, and arranged themselves in a close circle a little distance away. They were armed with guns, spears, shields, bows and arrows, fully a thousand strong. A mysterious frigid silence, which denoted an extraordinary event, pervaded the assemblage. All eyes were fixed upon Guakamatera, whose colossal figure towered above those around him. “This is treachery,” whispered Casati in Biri’s ear. “May God help us! All hope is useless. We must show courage.”
Perhaps ten minutes passed after the coming of the vizier. Suddenly he raised his right arm. The signal was given. The air was filled with savage cries. The savages rushed upon their victims, seized them and bound them to trees hand and foot, so tightly that they could not move.
Guakamatera approached Casati. “I am going by command of my king to your lodging. I know that you have an armed force there, which has come secretly and gradually from Wadelai, and with which you have intended to get possession of the country. Woe to them if they make the least resistance. They shall be killed at once.”
“Under the conditions in which you have placed me by the order of your king,” replied Casati, “I cannot be answerable for anything that may happen when you reach my house. In the meantime I advise you to take my companion with you. He can carry instructions from me and they will be faithfully obeyed.”
“Good! Give him the instructions.”
“The government’s soldiers shall lay down their arms, and my companion shall obey at once what Guakamatera orders. No one shall oppose him or protest.”
The vizier left, accompanied by his troops, leaving three hundred behind to guard the prisoners. Casati’s house was searched. All the collections to which he had devoted a lifetime, as well as Biri’s goods, were carried away and the servants were made prisoners. Naturally their treatment was no milder than that to which their master was subjected. The vizier returned about five in the afternoon, the prisoners having stood tightly bound during his absence, without a drop of water to quench their thirst and exposed to the maltreatment and insults of the brutal guards. He had put on finer attire and seated himself in the great judges’ chair, while his warriors gathered about him to receive instructions.
“These men,” he said, pointing to the prisoners, “have called the Wagandans into the country [a pure invention]. Your women and children have been carried off, your houses burned, your property stolen, and your harvest destroyed. The king will visit justice for their crimes and relies upon my arms for revenge.” A dismal howl full of menace broke out. “Gobia, gobia” [“traitors, traitors”].
Casati and Biri were unbound and removed to the place of justice and were surrounded by a new force of warriors. Casati entered the circle and met his servants. He seemed to them like one risen from the dead. The sight of their beloved master filled them all with new hopes. The place where they found themselves was ominous. The great wooden drums were covered with the blood of victims. They must make an attempt at flight.
“There is no place except this thicket of thorns which is not beset by warriors,” said one of his men, an active, nimble fellow who had been making observations.
“Good! We will throw ourselves on all fours and make a rush through it.”
No sooner said than done. They got through the thicket and kept on their way, but soon encountered a reserve of the negroes. It was impossible to defend themselves, so they left the road and escaped by the aid of the tall grass. Their flight that day was beset by dangers. Whenever they ventured out of the woods to buy sweet potatoes or beans with glass beads, the negroes would drive them off with threats. King Kabrega’s direful orders followed them everywhere. Fortunately, however, they found a friend in this wilderness. A young Dinka woman, who had escaped the brutality of an Egyptian official by Emin Pasha’s interference, brought them by night a great dish of beans and the comforting assurance that Emin would be on the lake, January eleventh, with two steamers. This aroused fresh hope that, in spite of their wounded feet and aching limbs, of hunger and thirst, they would reach the shores of the lake. Their armed pursuers were near them. They climbed hills through thorns and bushes, falling and getting up again, in anxious silence. Their pursuers had surrounded them and the bushes crackled about them. They reached the top of a hill and heard excited discussions going on around them, loud, threatening voices, and excited rushing about, and soon a sudden, hasty, headlong flight.
“What has happened?” Casati’s servant, who was a little ahead, came back trembling with joy. “The steamer, the steamer!” he shouted, running down from the summit. Help in time of need, and it was high time. The exhausted men could hardly stand and they were still a long way from the lake. The sun was setting and it was too late to attract the notice of the crew. A long dreary night was passed upon the shore of the lake without food and enveloped in a dense cold mist.
The next morning a large cloth was fastened to a pole for a signal. About nine o’clock a cloud of smoke appeared upon the horizon. Anxious moments followed. Would the rescuers see them? Thank God! the outline of the steamer grew ever larger and it was approaching steadily and swiftly. The poor fugitives waved their flag, a shrieking whistle answered, replied to by loud cheers. A boat with the rescued ones on board, Emin Pasha, and several officers and officials had come to fetch them, more out of pity than with any prospect of success. All were speechless with joy over the unexpected rescue.
During this time Emin’s circumstances had taken a turn for the better. He had received letters through Biri from the coast. A regular postal service was established and his dreary isolation was at an end. He also learned that Dr. Fischer, the experienced explorer, had undertaken an expedition for his rescue in 1886, but only got as far as the Victoria Nyanza, for the Wagandans would not allow him to go further. He returned to Germany and died shortly afterwards in consequence of his hardships. Next Emin received an official despatch in French from Cairo, from the Egyptian government, informing him that it was not impossible they might have to evacuate the Soudan. In case this occurred, Emin was given full permission to leave the Equatorial Provinces and for this purpose he was authorized to draw upon the English Consul General at Zanzibar. Emin was bitterly incensed at the cold business tone of the government. It had not a word of thanks or of recognition of all his cares, troubles, and struggles for three years, not a word of regret that he was compelled to labor so many years without any support, and often hungry and in need. And not a word of encouragement for the task imposed upon him of taking the Egyptians home. An empty title, that of Pasha, was all the reward for his exertions.
They fancied in Egypt that all Emin needed to do was to pack up his effects and go by the coast to Zanzibar. It never occurred to them that the greatest obstacle in Emin’s way was his own Egyptian officers and soldiers. While at Khartoum he had repeatedly notified the government that it ought to change garrisons every two years, but it had never made any reply. The larger part of his people, who had never left the country, wanted to stay at home and live as their ancestors had lived. For the Egyptians the Equatorial Provinces had become a second home and more of a Paradise than they had ever found in their native land. They had married and founded families, they had bought or stolen slaves, they had cattle and goats. As they could not have these things in Egypt, why should they leave such a country? Gordon had to meet the same difficulties when he undertook the evacuation of the entire Soudan. He too knew that such a problem could not be solved.
Emin’s subordinates had very little confidence in the Egyptian government, for they had been without pay or provisions for a year. Again, the people could not understand why the government intended giving up the whole of the Soudan. No one had the most distant idea that the Mahdi’s troops could stand against the Egyptian army. Not a person in the Equatorial Provinces believed the reports of previous defeat or the destruction of Hicks Pasha’s army. So the efforts of Emin to concentrate his entire strength in the Soudan were fruitless. His officers had no intention of leaving Lado. Unfortunately the despatch referring to evacuation was in French. Its genuineness was not only doubted, but it was regarded as an invention of Emin’s. With the intention of going southward and thence to the east coast, Emin sent messengers to Lado to prepare his people for their departure. A letter informed him that in consequence of his orders revolt was spreading and no one would go to the south. If they were forced to go, they would seize all the weapons and supplies and kill all who opposed them.
Signs of this revolt were speedily apparent. In the middle of March, 1886, the old subordinate officers and the people of Bornu, Adamana, and other places united in a plot to kill the officers at Lado as well as the Soudanese and found a free state. An Egyptian officer heard of it and reported it to his superior, who placed the leaders in chains, but some days later let them go unpunished—a mistaken clemency for such a time. In Dufile a sergeant fired at his officer, but missed him.
During this time of uneasiness Emin undertook three journeys to the Albert Nyanza and discovered a large river flowing from the south, the one called Semliki by Stanley, and the last of the hitherto unknown Nile branches. For political reasons Emin devoted his entire attention to that region which appeared to him the one which they had selected for the retreat. Thereupon he proceeded with repairs on his two steamers.
By the middle of April, 1887, twelve stations were in Emin’s possession, nearly all of them those which Gordon had intrusted to him in his time. In a letter to Dr. Felkir he writes: “We sow, harvest, spin, and live every day as if it were to continue forever. It is curious how one long shut away from the world develops his vegetative faculties. I shall not leave my people. We have had hard and troublous days together and I should consider it shameful to desert my post. We have known each other for long years and I do not believe that my successor could gain their confidence.”
He is now preparing to leave the country with his people, but not until a relief expedition reaches him. That such an expedition is on the way he knows of a certainty. His European friends have communicated to him their intention of helping him to carry out his plans.
The scanty news from the heart of Africa relating to this heroic man, forsaken by all the world, doing his duty and remaining at his post undisturbed by any thought of danger or death, and deserted by the government he represented, aroused interest and increasing sympathy in Europe. In England especially it was regarded as a duty to help Emin, thereby making some reparation for the dilatory policy which had sacrificed Gordon, and with him the whole Soudan. Emin’s letter to Dr. Felkir was published in the LondonTimes, in the autumn of 1886, and led to the organization of an Emin Pasha Relief Committee, under the presidency of Sir William MacKinnon. This committee quickly raised a large sum for the fitting out of a great expedition under command of Henry Morton Stanley, the founder of the Congo Free State and African expert.
Stanley came at once from America and secured all the necessary supplies, weapons, and articles for barter in such quantities that Emin could hardly have long contained himself had he possessed them. Nine Europeans, at the cost of much self-sacrifice, accompanied the expedition as officers. Among them was Dr. Parke, a noble friend of humanity, who had acquired great fame by alleviating the fearful sufferings of travellers and saving many lives. The next step was the selection of a route and Stanley chose one along the Congo and across the equator, a hitherto untraversed region. He had a special reason for selecting this route. He was anxious to complete his earlier discoveries and the possibility of going across Africa with such a large and finely equipped expedition might not occur again, for he had over six hundred carriers besides soldiers with him and he feared that these people might desert him and go back to the east coast if he went by way of Zanzibar. As they were situated, they had to follow him if they wished to get home again, for flight would only take them to unknown regions where death certainly awaited them.
Losing very little time, Stanley went to Egypt and secured from the Khedive an official letter to Emin and then went on to Zanzibar to get the necessary people. He was especially fortunate in securing Tippoo Tib, a leading trader and investor in Central Africa, and a near neighbor of the Congo Free State. Stanley feared if he did not attach this man to his service, who had almost princely power, the Arabs in the interior might play havoc with his expedition. His preparations gave him more trouble than he had expected. When he reached the mouth of the Congo and found the vessels which the King of Belgium had placed at his disposal, they were all unfit for use. It was only with the greatest exertions that three of them were put in tolerable condition. They had hardly gone a mile when the screw of the steamerPeacegave out. Then the steamerStanleygot out of order and there was no end to his troubles and disappointments. The situation, however, was not very serious so long as they were sailing up the river and ever and again passing stations belonging to the Congo Free State. At last, however, they must leave the river and travel on foot through an unknown wilderness.
Owing to the unfitness of the steamers, the larger part of the baggage had been left behind and was to be brought through the forests by Tippoo Tib’s carriers. Stanley was eager to advance, for the last he heard from Emin was the words, “If Stanley does not come soon, we shall be lost.” He therefore decided to go ahead with the best of his men, leaving a rearguard at Jambuja under Major Bartelot. The major was assigned the unenviable duty of awaiting the arrival of the baggage and carriers with two hundred sick and crippled men on his hands, and then follow Stanley by routes which would be marked out for him. Greatly to his consolation, Lieutenant Jameson was left with him. Jephson and Dr. Parke were with the advance. Many hands were busied with preparations for departure and then the horn gave the signal for advance. Stanley took the lead, with Lieutenant Nelson in the rear, to prevent straggling.
“Which way is it, guide?” asked Stanley of a tall naked man with a magnificent helmet, such as the Greeks used to wear.
“This way, which leads to the sunset,” he replied.
“How many miles is it to the next village?”
“God only knows,” was the answer.
“Is there no village or country in any direction?”
“Not one that I know of.”
This was all known by the most knowing one in the expedition.
“Now then, forward in God’s name. May God be with us! Keep to the course along the river until we find a road.”
“Bismillah!” shouted the carriers. The trumpets of the Nubians blew the signal “forward,” and shortly after this the head of the column disappeared in the dense thickets on the outer limits of the forests of Jambuja.
This was on the twenty-eighth of June, 1887, and until the fifth of December, one hundred and sixty days, the expedition traversed woods and thickets without seeing a bit of grassland. For miles nothing could be seen but forests of trees of various ages and heights, with more or less thick underbrush. For the first time a hitherto unknown region was exposed to the gaze of civilized man.
The march was entirely conjectural, as it led through a hitherto untrodden and pathless wilderness and in some places it dragged along like a funeral procession. Its difficulties were increased by frequent rainstorms, which in that region are like a deluge. They are also accompanied by violent winds, which shake the countless branches so that they drench man and beast with an additional downpour and rage as if they would tear the trees up by the roots. Their fear was still further increased by terrible peals of thunder reverberating through the forest and the lightning flashes hurtling through the air and sometimes taking the form of exploding bolts.
It was a great relief when the sick and injured were at last delivered from this elemental strife which Stanley said was more dreadful than a European battle. His men seemed to be almost paralyzed by fear, suffering, sickness, loss of friends, hunger, rain, thunder, and general wretchedness. They sought shelter under banana trees, shields of the natives, woollen covers, straw mats, earthen and copper pots, saddles, tent covers, each one enveloped in a blue mist and completely overcome by speechless terror. The poor donkeys, with ears thrown back, closed eyes, and drooping heads, and the caged fowl, with their bedraggled feathers, added to the general wretchedness of appearance. Hunger, sickness, and wounds from the thorns in the woods disabled many. They were also exposed to the poisoned arrows of lurking savages. One or another of the carriers would disappear, taking his valuable pack with him. Each day some were prostrated by exhaustion, never to rise again. It was almost unendurable misery, and yet the cry was “forward, forward.”
During the days that were free from rain, an unnatural darkness prevailed in the forest. The travellers now encountered slippery tree trunks, bridging over dangerous abysses, which threatened to pierce them with the sharp points of their projecting dead branches as they rushed down hillsides upon them. Upon one of these they had to cross a rushing stream, balancing themselves upon its slippery surface. Anon they plunged into a thicket, where they were nearly suffocated by the myriads of tangled vines and bushes that coiled about them. Soon they came to a morass whose dangerous depths were concealed by floating plants and scum. At every step their difficulties so increased that Stanley at last declared they had done enough for the day and would pitch camp.
Stanley was moved with compassion as he looked upon his naked followers. Their usual ebony colored skin had changed to an ashen gray and their bones protruded so that it was a wonder how such skeletons had strength enough to go any farther. And yet he had no mercy. He forced them to go on by harsh measures, lest the expedition should prove a failure. And besides, he who remained behind was inevitably a dead man. The soil was full of decaying vegetation, the atmosphere was hot and close and filled with exhalations from myriads of decaying insects, leaves, plants, twigs, and stalks. At every step the head or neck, arms or legs were held fast by tough vines, thorns of bushes, poisonous ivies or monstrous thistles, which tore them as they sought to extricate themselves. Countless kinds of insects increased their troubles, particularly the black ants, which dropped upon them from the trees as they were passing under them. Their sting is more painful than that of the wasp or the red ant. They traverse the roads in armies, and plants and trees swarm with them. When November came, the expedition had been reduced one half in number and only two hundred men emerged from the darkness of the woods into clear daylight.
In Stanley’s account of this journey he only speaks of these small pests and is thankful that the larger animals of the African plains avoided the forests. But this is not always the case, for the wilderness abounds with elephants, buffaloes, panthers, leopards, jackals, antelopes, and gazelles. There are hippopotami and snakes in the rivers, innumerable birds in the trees, and the woods are full of monkeys of various kinds, and yet none of them came in sight of the expedition. The same was true of the natives. They often found clearings in which bananas and pisangs were planted and near by the forsaken cabins of the savages who fled from the approach of strangers. And yet it is not correct to say that there were no human beings in the forests. Behind every tree an enemy was lurking and their poisoned arrows often found victims. Stanley maintains that these savages of the forest are much more dangerous than the negroes of the open country. It is only remarkable that amidst the manifold dangers to which they were exposed, they escaped a conflict which might have been fatal to them.
The terrors of the forest at last disappeared. On the thirtieth of November the expedition reached a broad, well-kept road which led to the summit of a sightly hill. Lights could be seen. The people crowded about the slope and their questioning glances seemed to say before they could express their gratitude in words: “Is it true? Are we not deceived? Is it possible that we are at the end of those forest horrors?” They at last were convinced and a few minutes later gazed with admiration and astonishment at the picture before them.
Longingly they stretched out their arms to the beautiful country. All looked up with grateful hearts to the clear, blue sky and watched the setting of the sun as if enchanted. Then they turned and gazed at the dark forest they had just left, stretching away limitlessly to the west, and shook their fists at it. They were overcome by their sudden joy. They denounced it for its cruelty to them and their friends and compared it to hell. They mourned the death of hundreds of their companions and cursed it for its cruelty. But the great forest, stretching out like a continent, lying silently like some great animal, veiled in a blue mist, made no reply, but remained in its everlasting solitude, as unmerciful and cruel as ever.
As we already know, Emin was aware of Stanley’s approach from the south of the lake and sailed in that direction. But as he found no trace of the expedition there, he sent a messenger to the locality where he must come, requesting Stanley to remain where the messenger found him and he would meet him there. Stanley had still many dangers to meet after he and his people left the forest, and had several encounters with the hostile dwellers near the lake, besides being short of supplies and food. But the day came at last when the Albert Lake was at their feet, far stretching as a world sea.
On the twenty-ninth of April, 1888, Stanley observed a dark object upon the lake too large to be the canoe of a native and soon a cloud of smoke was visible. It must be Emin Pasha’s steamer! Messengers were sent to the shore and about eight in the evening Emin, accompanied by enthusiastic demonstrations and firing, advanced to the camp, in company with Captain Casati. At last the great event, looked forward to with such anticipation and for which so many sacrifices had been made, was realized. Emin and Stanley were together. Both had accomplished an unusual thing, the one by patient labor, and brave endurance, in an almost untenable position; the other by his energy and invincible determination to bring help where help was so urgently needed.
FIRST MEETING OF STANLEY AND EMIN PASHA
FIRST MEETING OF STANLEY AND EMIN PASHA
Emin in his usual quiet manner said in excellent English: “I owe you a thousand thanks, Mr. Stanley, and I really do not know how to express them.”
“Ah! you are Emin Pasha! Don’t mention thanks, but come in and sit down. It is so dark out here that we cannot see one another.”
They entered the tent, which was illuminated by a wax light. Stanley beheld with astonishment (as he said afterwards) a man whom he might have taken for a professor of law as he sat there in his clean, nicely fitting snow-white attire. His face showed no trace of illness or anxiety, but bespoke good physical condition and a peaceful mind. Captain Casati, on the other hand, looked old, haggard, and worn with care. The two men occupied the greater part of the hours in conversation about the events of Stanley’s journey, European affairs, occurrences in the Equatorial Provinces, as well as personal matters. Stanley was surprised at Emin’s intimate knowledge of European events, which he had gathered from a few old newspapers that had found their way to him. The close of the joyous meeting was celebrated with a bottle of champagne Stanley had brought with him through the wilderness.
On the next morning Stanley went with his Zanzibarites to the steamer where they were welcomed with music by the Pasha’s Soudanese, who stood in parade order on the shore. By the side of these stalwart figures Stanley’s lean and exhausted people seemed pitiful. Emin supplied the expedition as well as he could with shoes, garments, tobacco, salt, honey, corn and grain, which had been sent to him from Europe. They were exchanging rôles. A disagreeable dark shadow obscured the joy which should have been complete.
With absolute confidence in his lucky star, Stanley started the question about the return home in accordance with the request of the Khedive of Egypt. Emin stated his position as well as that of the majority of his officials. But the Soudanese already regarded with mistrusting hearts this expedition which had been so loudly praised by the governor and which they had looked upon as the source of their safety. Of what value were thirty chests of Remington cartridges? That was all that had been brought for Emin. They cared nothing for the situation in the Equatorial Provinces. Emin deeply felt the painful impression which the description of the wretchedness suffered and the difficulties in the way must make upon his people. He repeatedly urged Stanley to show himself to his people and to visit the adjacent provinces that could be reached by steamer. Stanley, however, declined, for he must depart at once to look after Major Bartelot and the reserve. An agreement was made that all those Soudanese and Egyptians who wished to return to Egypt should come together at Nssabe on the Albert Nyanza to await Stanley’s return with the rest of his people and the supplies left in Jambuja. Knowing the sure and unavoidable danger accompanying Stanley’s journey through the forest, they would take their way eastward to Zanzibar via Karagwe and Usukuma.