Emin called his people together to make an agreement with them and the same discouraging result was repeated which had so sorely tried Stanley’s patience. One party was willing to go with the Pasha, conditional, however, upon taking the nearest route to the coast. But, as we know, Emin had projected bolder plans, in the development of which he counted upon the help of the Soudanese. The usual delays occurred and the evil-disposed circulated all kinds of senseless stories. They said that the Khedive, enraged because Emin had left his soldiers in the interior and set out for the coast alone, had driven him off and that he was wandering about trying to find a habitation. Notwithstanding these reports, he could not find it in his heart to leave the malicious inventors of them in the lurch. He writes to his sister: “I am foolish enough, in spite of everything, to keep my interest in these people.” There were a few faithful souls whom he would save even as Abraham appealed to his God: “Peradventure there shall lack five of the fifty righteous, wilt thou destroy all the city [Sodom] for lack of five?”
After long delay twenty-nine men, one hundred and one women, and eighty-one children decided to go with their former governor, though the little band promised to be much more troublesome than useful to him. But Emin was not discouraged at this turn of events. He made no complaints and was only concerned that the people who had been assured of help should not suffer.
On the tenth of August, 1891, Emin went farther west, and considerably farther north than Stanley had gone, in hopes of making a union with Cameron. All were of good courage except Dr. Stuhlmann, who had grave doubts, for Emin’s health was broken. The saddest feature was his failing eyesight and the certainty that the day was not far distant when he would be blind. The Pasha himself realized it and therefore kept steadily forwards with the energy of desperation instead of going back by a safer way.
“What is there behind me?” he would reply to Stuhlmann’s protests. “The work to which I have devoted my life is in confusion and my activity in the German service has not been appreciated. Of what use is life if one does not accomplish something that is recognized as important?” These few words give us a glimpse into his proud nature. His important services had not been justly recognized. The Khedive had written him a formal letter of thanks and invested him with an empty title: his own subordinates had proved ungrateful; Stanley had so misjudged him that it grieved him, and now he had been censured by the authorities of the German colony. Notwithstanding all this, Emin now ventured one last effort to secure the recognition of a world which had so obstinately refused it.
In that forest whose terrors we already know from Stanley’s description he wrote his last letter to his sister. It is with mournful interest that we read the last utterances of a man who was so soon to be called from the scene of his activities. The letter begins:
“It will sound strange, but it is the darkness of the forest alone that has prevented me from writing. At our various camping places we have had to cut down trees to find a place for our tents and then it was so dark one could scarcely see to read. We have all the joys, but at the same time all the discomforts of forest life in abundance. Our joys are restricted to those pleasures which sublime nature furnishes for everyone, while slime and water, slippery ascents and descents, uprooted and fallen trees, myriads of ants and small stinging flies, torment the men. Added to all this we have at times the pangs of hunger, for wide stretches of territory are unpopulated and the plundering Manjemas have left nothing edible in the country. If one depends upon hunting he may soon starve, for the monkeys and gray parrots rarely ever come in sight. The forest is a paradise for the collector and my bird collection has many treasures. Frogs and insects also are very numerous. There are also surprisingly beautiful specimens of plants. If one could remain longer in a given place he would find an abundance of new things. The villages of the forest people lie mostly upon little elevations, forming wood islands, and all inclosed by fences of felled trees, and scattered about are plantations in which maize, beans, tobacco and bananas are raised. As to animals I have not yet seen a goat, and meat is in such demand that after skinning my birds they beg for the bodies. Dwarfs live in these woods and we have been visited by them several times. They were all hungry and begged for food, which we gave them sparingly.”
“It will sound strange, but it is the darkness of the forest alone that has prevented me from writing. At our various camping places we have had to cut down trees to find a place for our tents and then it was so dark one could scarcely see to read. We have all the joys, but at the same time all the discomforts of forest life in abundance. Our joys are restricted to those pleasures which sublime nature furnishes for everyone, while slime and water, slippery ascents and descents, uprooted and fallen trees, myriads of ants and small stinging flies, torment the men. Added to all this we have at times the pangs of hunger, for wide stretches of territory are unpopulated and the plundering Manjemas have left nothing edible in the country. If one depends upon hunting he may soon starve, for the monkeys and gray parrots rarely ever come in sight. The forest is a paradise for the collector and my bird collection has many treasures. Frogs and insects also are very numerous. There are also surprisingly beautiful specimens of plants. If one could remain longer in a given place he would find an abundance of new things. The villages of the forest people lie mostly upon little elevations, forming wood islands, and all inclosed by fences of felled trees, and scattered about are plantations in which maize, beans, tobacco and bananas are raised. As to animals I have not yet seen a goat, and meat is in such demand that after skinning my birds they beg for the bodies. Dwarfs live in these woods and we have been visited by them several times. They were all hungry and begged for food, which we gave them sparingly.”
Their progress through the forest was more and more difficult as they were without provisions. Every day one or more of their number deserted, especially the Soudanese, whom Emin had induced with so much exertion to accompany him. It was particularly hard for Emin, who was in the rear, and the porters to urge on and encourage the sick and injured. There followed rainstorms which made the roads in this hilly country still more slippery. New terrors were added to the old ones. To prevent thievery about their plantations the natives had filled the ground full of sharp pointed pieces of cane, which pierced the feet of those stepping upon them. Six of the porters were so badly injured in this way that they could not carry their packs.
On the twenty-sixth of September, 1891, they approached the country of Momsu. The natives saw them coming at some distance away, but did not seem to be excited. Emin knew that he should soon reach the northern end of the forest and that he could make his way westward without much difficulty. All plucked up fresh courage, but on the next day the forest road abruptly ended and all their efforts to find a new one were useless. There was no other alternative but to go back to their camp of the day before and from there not attempt to go forward. Hope seemed at an end.
On the twenty-ninth of September Emin’s people held a conference with him. They notified him that the greatest dissatisfaction prevailed, that fifteen men had deserted, that the porters could not go any farther, and that they could find nothing to eat. Emin explained to them that they would soon come to a fertile country where there was an abundance of food. He would send out fifty of his most vigorous men, who would quickly return loaded with fruit and lead them safely to that blessed country. They were satisfied and the men were sent. But alas, after three days they returned empty-handed without even finding a beaten path. Firmly and unanimously they decided to go south, whence they had come. They were quiet and moderate, but no power on earth could have induced them to take another step forwards.
Emin was forced to submit, but he was exceedingly unfortunate. Had he only known that the Belgian station was not far away! Had his people followed him a few days longer he would have undoubtedly reached his goal, the west coast, and a splendid result would have crowned his efforts. Now he had to go back, hungry and discouraged. For twelve days his people lived upon banana roots and gourd leaves, which were almost destitute of nourishing qualities. It was hard to carry their packs and a fourth of the porters died on the way.
In this most disconsolate period Stuhlmann’s birthday anniversary occurred and it is difficult to describe his emotions when on the morning of the day Emin met him and presented him with a bottle of champagne and a beautiful watch. In the midst of all his troubles he did not forget to congratulate his affectionate friend. It seemed as if misfortunes were never to leave the expedition. Suddenly one of the porters was taken ill and showed very suspicious symptoms. He had been feverish for several days and soon an eruption appeared all over his body. It was the smallpox, hard as it was for Emin to admit it. If this terrible pest should spread among his people the prospects of the expedition would be forever blasted.
Camp was pitched in Undussuma to give the sick more careful attention and the exhausted ones time to recuperate. A severe epidemic of smallpox broke out there. Emin also had much to endure. His left eye was at last entirely blinded and an injury to his knee, to which at first he paid no attention, became inflamed, owing to the great dampness (it was the rainy season) and caused him much pain. Besides this he suffered from constant insomnia so that he grew very weak and could hardly move about. He was confined to his tent day and night, the prey of gnawing solicitude and racking his brain to find some reason for rescuing something where there was nothing to rescue.
One morning the Pasha invited Stuhlmann for an interview. He stated to him that a longer stay in that place would involve the death of all by smallpox and that isolation was impossible. It was his duty to remove the well ones at once. Stuhlmann must start homewards with them while he would follow after with the sick when they recovered. Stuhlmann refused to leave the Pasha, who was sick himself and in need of help, but Emin threw all his authority into the scales. As his superior he must be obeyed and he gave Stuhlmann a written order by which he could justify himself before the world and to his own conscience. So they divided men, weapons, munition, and supplies. Emin kept thirty-eight people, a part of them women and children, while Stuhlmann led one hundred and thirty-three to the coast and as a matter of fact saved them. On the tenth of December, in the early morning, Stuhlmann departed with a sad heart. “I hope,” said Emin, “to see you again in a month. If I am overcome by force and cannot come, remember me to my child.” Only a handshake, a last wave of the hand, and they parted, never to meet again.
After Stuhlmann’s departure Emin’s health improved somewhat, but many of the sick died. The natives had fled because of the pest and thus supplies could not be procured and there was great suffering from hunger. Dissatisfaction, drunkenness, and disorder prevailed and Emin had to resort to the lash. The Soudanese were again the worst offenders. In all his troubles Emin always found consolation in his scientific observations, which he entered daily in his diary, notwithstanding his impaired sight. As the sick were now recovering Emin began planning to resume the journey and he succeeded in inducing Ismaili, an Arab, to accompany him to the Congo and procure the necessary porters.
On the ninth of March, 1892, Emin left the camp, the scene of so many sorrows, still trusting in his people, though he had been expressly warned of their evil designs. But no choice was left him. Alone, he could reach neither the east nor the west coast. Now at the mercy of a hostile Arab, he was traversing that great region which had been visited only by slave hunters, and the thought of his own weakness was a great pain to him. How many years he had unweariedly fought these cruel men-stealers, inspired at that time by the hope that Europe at last would put an end to the infamous business. Now he looked out upon his province, which under his administration had been a scene of peaceful industry and of continually increasing prosperity, and heard only the shrieks of victims in the silence of the night. The little that we know of Emin’s fate is from his diary, which is brought down to the twenty-second of October, upon which date he met his fate, as the result of revenge for the four prisoners murdered by the Warambas, a crime of which he was believed to be guilty. Emin suspected all. It looks as if he did not try to escape from his fate. We read in his diary that the Arab chief, Kinene, met him and took him to his house at Kasango. “He wants to make sure of me,” writes Emin. He clearly saw through his designs.
On the following morning Emin sat upon the beautiful veranda of his false host’s house. Upon the table before him were spread out birds and plants, the spoils of the last few days, which he had investigated and whose characteristics he had noted down. Before him was a letter from the powerful Kibonge, whose possessions were on the Congo, inviting him in a friendly manner to visit him and promising him protection. Emin was in a cheerful mood. Once more it seemed that the cup passed from him. On the morrow he would leave, go to the Congo and thence safely to the coast.
Kinene entered and said: “Pasha, as you are going away in the morning, let your people go to the plantations and provide themselves with manioc and bananas. I will give them to you for the many fine things you have brought to me.” Emin looked up from his book and thanked him and then sent for his people. Kinene said: “Let your people leave their guns here on the veranda, for the women who work on the plantations would be terrified if they saw men coming with guns.” The men, fifty in number, did as he suggested and betook themselves to the plantations a mile away.
When they were gone, Kinene spoke in a friendly way to Emin and regretted his speedy departure. Ismaili and Mamba, a slave, stood behind Emin’s chair and at a sign from the chief seized him by the arms. Emin turned angrily and asked them what they meant. Then said Kinene: “Pasha, you must die.”
“What do you mean?” said Emin. “Is this a sorry joke? How dare you restrain me? What do you mean by saying I must die? Who are you, Kinene, that you should dare to kill me?”
Kinene answered: “It is the will of Kibonge. I must obey him.”
Three persons stepped forward and held Emin securely as he tried to free himself. When he saw that his efforts were useless, he said: “This is a mistake. Here is a letter from Kibonge which promises me safe conduct.”
Kinene replied: “Pasha, if you can read Arabic, read this letter.”
And Emin read the second letter of the false Kibonge, which ordered him to be killed. He gave a deep sigh, then frowned and said: “Well, you will kill me, but do not think that I am the only white man in this country. Many will come to avenge my death and believe me, in two years there will not be a single Arab left in this region to tell the story of the destruction of his people.”
Kinene remained unmoved and when Emin saw there was no hope of escape he protested no longer and Ismaili, his treacherous guide, severed the head of the defenseless one from his body.
Two years elapsed before definite news of Emin’s fate was received, and as nothing was heard of him all that time, it was generally believed that he had been killed by Arabs, and that the truth had been concealed. At last Baron Dhanis, at the head of a Belgian expedition, came to the vicinity of Kinene’s possessions. There by chance Emin’s trunk and diary were found in a cabin, and the discovery led to the arrest of Ismaili and three others, who had participated in the murder, and their confession. The murderers were condemned to be hanged. A year later the treacherous Kibonge was made to pay for his infamy, for he was taken prisoner by a European expedition and put to death.
Thus Emin, the quiet, genial man, who never did an injury to anyone, but conferred almost endless benefactions, died as he had lived—alone. The serious, strenuous work of his life brought him little gratitude. He lived to see the collapse of his great creation—the Equatorial Provinces. But the one thing which was his consolation in all his hard days and which was occupying him at the very hour of his death was his devotion to science, which did not die with him, but has been and always will be of great value to the world. The museums of Europe tell of the activity of this collector, and scholars who have studied his diaries are amazed at the richness of their contents. He will never die in the memory of his own people or of the civilized world; his name is indelibly engraved upon the tablets of history.
[1]Dr. Wilhelm Junker was born at Moscow in 1846 and died at St. Petersburg in 1892. Between 1873 and 1886 he explored Algeria, Tunis, Lower Egypt, and a considerable part of Central Africa.[2]Lado is in Central Africa on the White Nile, near Gondokoro, and was founded by General Gordon in 1874.[3]The Bari are a negro race in the eastern Soudan, and are both agricultural and pastoral.[4]Termites are white ants which grow to a very large size in Africa.[5]The native name of the sweet potato.[6]The statements in the “Life of Gordon” in this series of “Life Stories” are at variance with this. According to the former, Lieutenant Wilson left Khartoum by steamer to urge haste upon General Wolseley, who was coming to the rescue, but his vessel was wrecked and he was murdered by natives. The steamers which came in sight of Khartoum that morning and found it in possession of the Mahdi were bringing a part of the rescuing force, but finding it was too late, returned. As the German author’s statements in his “Life of Gordon” are confirmed by Sir William Butler, in his well-known “Life,” preference should be given to it.[7]Verney L. Cameron was a distinguished Anglo-African explorer and the first to cross Africa from east to west.
[1]Dr. Wilhelm Junker was born at Moscow in 1846 and died at St. Petersburg in 1892. Between 1873 and 1886 he explored Algeria, Tunis, Lower Egypt, and a considerable part of Central Africa.
[2]Lado is in Central Africa on the White Nile, near Gondokoro, and was founded by General Gordon in 1874.
[3]The Bari are a negro race in the eastern Soudan, and are both agricultural and pastoral.
[4]Termites are white ants which grow to a very large size in Africa.
[5]The native name of the sweet potato.
[6]The statements in the “Life of Gordon” in this series of “Life Stories” are at variance with this. According to the former, Lieutenant Wilson left Khartoum by steamer to urge haste upon General Wolseley, who was coming to the rescue, but his vessel was wrecked and he was murdered by natives. The steamers which came in sight of Khartoum that morning and found it in possession of the Mahdi were bringing a part of the rescuing force, but finding it was too late, returned. As the German author’s statements in his “Life of Gordon” are confirmed by Sir William Butler, in his well-known “Life,” preference should be given to it.
[7]Verney L. Cameron was a distinguished Anglo-African explorer and the first to cross Africa from east to west.
The following is a chronological statement of the most important events in the life of Emin Pasha:
LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLETranslated from the German byGEORGE P. UPTON44 Volumes Now ReadyAmerican ExplorersColumbusFrancisco PizarroCortesEric the Red and Leif the Lucky, and Other Pre-Columbian Discoverers of AmericaHistorical and BiographicalWashingtonFranklinPennMaximilianBarbarossaWilliam of OrangeMaria TheresaThe Maid of OrleansFrederick the GreatThe Little DauphinHerman and ThusneldaThe Swiss HeroesMarie Antoinette’s YouthThe Duke of BrittanyLouise, Queen of PrussiaThe Youth of the Great ElectorEmperor William FirstElizabeth, Empress of AustriaCharlemagnePrince EugeneEugénie, Empress of the FrenchQueen Maria Sophia of NaplesEmin PashaGeneral (“Chinese”) GordonDavid LivingstoneStanley’s Journey through the Dark ContinentMusical BiographyBeethovenMozartJohann Sebastian BachJoseph HaydnLegendaryFrithjof SagaGudrunThe NibelungsWilliam TellArnold of WinkelriedUndineUlysses of IthacaAchillesGods and HeroesThe Argonautic Expedition and the Labors of HerculesIllustrated. Each 50 centsnetA. C. McCLURG & CO.,Chicago
LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
Translated from the German byGEORGE P. UPTON
44 Volumes Now Ready
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Historical and Biographical
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Legendary
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