Four days later Stasch made a halt on a plateau that, although smaller and narrower than Linde Mountain, bore a great resemblance to it. That very evening Saba attacked a large baboon as he was playing with the remains of a kite—the second of those which the children had sent up before they started to travel toward the ocean—and after a hard fight bit him to death. Stasch and Nell, profiting by the halt to rest themselves, decided to continue making kites, but to send them up only when a strong monsoon was blowing from the west toward the east. Stasch calculated that if but one of them were to fall into the hands of Europeans or Arabians it would certainly excite unusual interest, and might be the means of a special expedition sent out to seek them. That his message might stand a better chance of being understood, he wrote on the kites not only in English and French, but also in Arabic, which was not difficult for him, as he was familiar with that language. Shortly after they broke up camp here Kali said that in the chain of mountains which they saw toward the east he recognized many peaks as those which surround the large sheet of dark water, the Basso-Narok, but he was not quite positive, because the mountains assume different shapes, according to the position of the observer. After having passed a fairly broad valley covered with kousso bushes, that resembled a large pink sea, they came upon a solitary negro hut, inside of which were two hunters, one of whom was ill, having been bitten by a guinea-worm.[35]Both were so savage and stupid, so dismayed at the sight of these unexpected guests, and so certain that they intended to kill them, that at first they would give no information. It took a few strips of smoked meat to loosen the tongue of the sick man, who, besides being ill, was half starved, as his comrade allowed him but little food. From him they learned that one day’s journey farther on there were some scattered hamlets, which were governed by two chiefs independent of each other, and that farther on, behind a steep mountain, lay the Fumba country, which extends from this great sheet of water toward the west and south. When Stasch heard this he felt that a great load had been lifted from him, and he took courage once more. For were they not near the boundary of the land belonging to the Wa-hima tribe?
It was, of course, hard to tell how they would find the remainder of the journey, but in any event the boy had reason to hope that it would not be more fatiguing or longer than the terrible ride from the banks of the Nile to the plain where they now were, which distance he had accomplished, thanks to his wonderful quickness of action, and during which time he had saved Nell from death. He knew that the Wa-hima would welcome them most hospitably for Kali’s sake, and would assist them in every way. Besides, he was accustomed to negroes, and knew how to manage them; so he felt pretty sure he could get along with them even without Kali.
“Do you know,” he said to Nell, “that we have already covered more than half the distance between Fashoda and the sea, and during the remainder of our journey we may meet more savage negroes, but we are free from the Dervishes?”
“I prefer negroes,” answered the girl.
“Yes, as long as you pass for an idol. I was stolen from Fayoum along with a girl called Nell, and now I am bringing a Msimu home. I shall tell my father and Mr. Rawlison that they are not to call you by any other name.”
Her eyes began to twinkle merrily.
“Perhaps we shall see our papas in Mombasa!”
“Perhaps. If it were not for the war raging on the banks of the Basso-Narok, we might accomplish our journey sooner. How provoking that Fumba should go to war just at this time!”
At these words he beckoned to Kali.
“Kali, has the sick negro heard anything about a war?”
“Yes. There is a great, a very great war between Fumba and Samburu.”
“Then what will happen? How can we travel through the Samburu land?”
“The Samburu will run away from the great man, from King and from Kali.”
“And from you?”
“And from Kali, for Kali has a gun that thunders and kills.”
Stasch began to consider what part he would have to take in the war between the Wa-hima and Samburu tribes; he determined that the war should not interfere with their journey. He knew that their arrival would be a great surprise, and that it would give Fumba the upper hand. Therefore, all he need do would be to turn the prospective victory to his own advantage.
On arriving in the small villages of which the sick hunter had made mention, they made further inquiries in regard to the war. And the news became more and more reliable, but at the same time unfavorable to Fumba. The small travelers learned that he was on the defensive, and that the Samburu, led by Mamba, their king, had taken a considerable portion of the Wa-hima’s country and captured a great many cows. It was said that the seat of war was on the south bank of the large sheet of water, where Fumba’s great “boma”[36]was situated, on a high and broad mountain.
This news made Kali feel very sad. He begged Stasch to travel as fast as he could over the mountain which separated them from the district that was menaced by the war, and he promised to find a road over which they could lead King as well as the horses. They were now in a country with which Kali was very familiar, and he recognized the mountain peaks he had known since childhood.
But it was no easy matter to cross the mountain, and if they had not been assisted by the inhabitants of the last village, whose good favor they had won with gifts, they would have had to find another road for King. But these people knew the ravines on this side of the mountain better than Kali did, and after a wearisome journey of two days and two nights, during which they suffered greatly from the cold, they were eventually able to lead the caravan over a narrow pass into a valley which from its appearance seemed to belong to the land of the Wa-himas.
Stasch made a halt to take a rest in this barren valley, which was enclosed by shrubbery, but Kali, who begged to be allowed to go on horseback to reconnoiter in the direction of his father’s boma, which lay a day’s journey distant, started off that very night. Stasch and Nell anxiously awaited his return for a whole following day and night, and they felt convinced that his strength must have given out, or that he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy. At last he reappeared on his weary and panting horse, he himself so tired and depressed that it made one sad to see him.
He prostrated himself at Stasch’s feet and begged him to come to the rescue.
“Oh, Great Man,” he said, “the Samburu have conquered Fumba’s warriors and killed several of them, and those they have not killed they have driven out; and they are besieging Fumba in the great ‘boma’ on Boko Mountain. Fumba and his warriors have nothing to eat on the mountain and will perish if the Great Man does not kill Mamba and all the Samburus.”
While begging, he clasped Stasch’s knees; the latter frowned and considered what he should do, for, as always, Nell was his first consideration.
At length he asked, “Where are the warriors of Fumba whom the Samburus have dispersed?”
“Kali found them—and they will soon be here.”
“How many of them are there?”
The young negro moved his fingers and toes several times, but apparently he could not give the exact number, for the simple reason that he could not count further than ten, and that every higher number was “wengi,” which means “many.”
“When they come, put yourself at their head and hasten to the relief of your father,” said Stasch.
“They are afraid of the Samburus and would not go with Kali, but they would go with the Great Man and kill wengi, wengi Samburus.”
Stasch thought the matter over once more.
“No,” he said at last. “I can neither take Bibi to the battle nor leave her behind alone; nothing would tempt me to do it.”
Thereupon Kali arose, folded his hands, and began repeating over and over again:
“Lunla! Lunla! Lunla!”
“What do you mean by Lunla?” asked Stasch.
“A great boma for the wives of the Wa-himas and the Samburus,” answered the young negro.
And he began to tell quite wonderful tales. For Fumba and Mamba had been at war with each other for several years. They had destroyed each other’s plantations and stolen each other’s cattle. But on the south bank of the lake there was a place called Lunla, in which—even during the hardest battles—the women of both tribes assembled to hold their market. This place was sacred. The war only raged between the men; the fortunes of war did not affect the destiny of the women, who found a safe refuge in Lunla, their spacious market-place, which was enclosed by earthworks. During these disturbances many of them fled there with their children and possessions. Some came from even the most distant villages, bringing smoked meat, beans, millet, manioc, and various other kinds of provisions. The warriors were not allowed to battle nearer Lunla than within earshot of the crowing of a cock, and they were not allowed within the earthworks which encircled the market-place. They could only stand in front of the wall, and then the women handed them down provisions by means of long bamboo rods. This was an old-fashioned custom respected by both parties. But the victorious side always tried to hold the road to Lunla so as to prevent the vanquished from approaching near enough to the sacred place to hear the cock crow.
“Oh Great Man,” begged Kali once more, as he clasped Stasch’s knee, “the Great Man will bring Bibi to Lunla, and he will take King and Kali and the gun and the fiery snakes and he will conquer the wicked Samburus.”
Stasch believed the young negro’s story, for he had heard that in many parts of Africa women are not affected by the wars. He remembered that a young German missionary in Port Said had once told him that the most warlike tribe of Masai, living in the vicinity of the great Kilima Njaro Mountain, followed this custom, and that consequently the wives of the warriors on either side could pass freely and unmolested to the market-place agreed upon without fear of being attacked.[37]Stasch was much pleased that this custom still prevailed on the banks of the Basso-Narok, for he felt confident that Nell would not be in any danger from the war. He also concluded to break up camp at once and take Nell to Lunla, which he was particularly desirous of doing, because a further journey was out of the question until the war was over, and the help of both the Wa-himas and the Samburus was necessary.
Accustomed as he was to make quick decisions, Stasch knew at once what to do. To release Fumba, to conquer the Samburus, to prevent the Wa-himas from taking too bloody a revenge, to command peace and reunite the antagonists seemed to him absolutely necessary, not only for his own sake, but also for the negroes. “It must be accomplished and it shall be!” he said to himself, and in the meanwhile, to pacify Kali, for whom he felt much sympathy, he explained to him that he by no means refused his assistance.
“How far is it from here to Lunla?” he asked.
“Half a day’s journey.”
“Then listen. We will take Bibi there at once; then I will ride on King and drive the Samburus from your father’s boma. You will ride with me and fight against them.”
“Kali will kill them with the gun.”
His despair changed to joy at once; he began to hop, to laugh, and to thank Stasch with as much enthusiasm as if the victory were already won. Further outbursts of gratitude and joy were interrupted by the arrival of the warriors he had collected during his reconnoitering, and whom he had commanded to appear before the white man. There were about thirty men, armed with shields of hippotamus skins, darts, bows, and knives.
On their heads they wore feathers, manes of baboons, and bouquets of ferns. On beholding an elephant in the service of a human being, on seeing Saba and the horses, they were seized with fear and surprise, just as was the case with the negroes in the villages through which the caravan had previously passed. But Kali had already told them that they would see a good Msimu and a powerful man, “who kills lions, who killed a wobo, of whom the elephant is afraid, who breaks rocks, makes fiery snakes rise in the air, etc.” So instead of running away, they formed in a long line and stood there silent and astonished, the whites of their eyes gleaming, for they were still uncertain whether they ought to kneel down or fall on their faces, but they firmly believed that, with the help of these extraordinary beings, the triumph of the Samburus would soon be at an end. Stasch rode on the elephant through the rank and file of the standing warriors like the leader of an army holding a review; then he made Kali repeat his promise to release Fumba, and gave orders to break camp for Lunla.
Kali rode in front with several warriors to tell the assembled wives of both tribes that they were to have rarer good fortune than ever before, in seeing the “good Msimu,” who was coming to them riding on an elephant. This was such an extraordinary occurrence that even those women of the Wa-hima tribe who recognized Kali as the lost heir to the throne thought that the king’s young son was trying to make fun of them, and they were surprised that he attempted to joke when the whole tribe and Fumba were in such desperate straits. But several hours later, when an enormous elephant with a white palanquin on his back was seen approaching the earthworks, they were nearly beside themselves with joy, and welcomed the good Msimu with such shouts and howls that Stasch mistook the uproar for outbursts of hatred, especially as these negroes were so hideously ugly that they looked like witches.
But this was their way of showing their great admiration. When Nell’s tent was set up in a corner of the market-place, in the shade of two trees with luxuriant foliage, the Wa-hima and the Samburu women adorned it with garlands and wreaths of flowers; then they brought such a quantity of food that it was not only enough for the goddess herself, but also enough to last her retinue for a month. The delighted women even bowed before Mea, who was adorned with pink percale and several strings of blue glass beads, and for this reason, and also because she was Msimu’s servant, she seemed to them to be of much higher rank than an ordinary negress.
Nasibu, on account of his youth, was also allowed within the enclosure, and he immediately profited by the offerings brought to Nell, and applied himself so conscientiously to eating that an hour later his little stomach resembled an African war-drum.
[35]
Medinensis, a thin string-worm, from an inch to a yard in length; its bite sometimes causes gangrene.
[36]
same as the zareba in the Soudan. A large boma may also be a kind of castle or fortified camp.
[37]
actual fact.
After resting a little while before the earthworks of Lunla, Stasch started off before sunset with Kali at the head of three hundred warriors to go to Fumba’s boma, for he wanted to attack the Samburus by night, reckoning that in the darkness the “fiery snakes” would make a greater impression. The journey from Lunla to Boko Mountain, on which Fumba was besieged, would take nine hours, counting the halt for rest, so that they would arrive before the fortress about three o’clock in the morning. Stasch made the warriors halt and commanded them to be silent; then he began to inspect the situation. The summit of the hill on which the defenders were waiting in ambush was wrapped in darkness, but the Samburus kept several campfires burning. Their light illuminated the steep sides of the cliff and the giant trees growing at its feet. And now from a distance could be heard the hollow sound of kettle-drums, as well as the shouts and singing of the warriors, who apparently were not sparing of the pombe[38]while celebrating their final victory. Stasch, at the head of his men, advanced still further, so that at last he was not more than a hundred feet from the last campfires. There seemed to be no one on guard anywhere, and the moonless night made it impossible for the savages to see the elephant, which was also hidden by the foliage. Stasch, sitting on King’s neck, gave his final orders in a low tone of voice, and made a sign to Kali to set off one of the rockets.
A red streak spluttered, shot high up into the sky, and fell in a shower of red, blue, and golden stars. Then every voice ceased and a moment of silence ensued. A few seconds later two more fiery snakes ascended, making a crackling sound, and this time directed more horizontally toward the Samburus’ camp; at the same time there were heard King’s trumpeting and the howls of three hundred Wa-himas, who, armed with assegais,[39]clubs, and knives, came up on the run. The battle that ensued was all the more terrible because it took place in absolute darkness, for in the excitement all the campfires had been extinguished and trampled down. From the first moment that the Samburus saw the fiery snakes they were panic-stricken. What had taken place was absolutely beyond their comprehension. They only knew that some sort of terrible creatures had overtaken them and that fearful and inevitable destruction threatened them. Most of them fled before the spears and clubs of the Wa-himas touched them. Over a hundred warriors whom Mamba had gathered around him defended themselves despairingly, but when by the light of the shots they saw a giant animal and on it a being dressed in white, and heard the reports of the gun which Kali incessantly fired, they lost courage.
When Fumba, who was on the mountain, saw the first rocket burst in the air above him, he fell to the ground from fright and lay there several minutes as if lifeless. On recovering, he concluded, from the despairing howls of the warriors, that some kind of supernatural beings were slaying the Samburus. Then he thought that if he did not come to the assistance of these spirits their rage might also be turned against him, and as the destruction of the Samburus meant his deliverance, he collected all his warriors and crept out of the boma by means of a hidden side passage, and thus quickly reached most of those trying to escape. The fight thus changed into a slaughter. The kettle-drums of the Samburus ceased to rumble. The darkness was penetrated only by the red flashes from Kali’s gun, the shrieks of dying warriors, the groans of the wounded, and the hollow beating of clubs on shields rang through the air. No one begged for quarter, for the negroes know no mercy.
For fear of hitting his own people in the confusion and darkness, Stasch at last ceased firing, and grasping Gebhr’s sword, threw himself on the enemy. The Samburus could now escape from the mountains to the frontier only by passing through a broad ravine, but Fumba and his warriors blocked this narrow pass, and every one of the fugitives was slain save those who threw themselves on the ground and surrendered, though they knew that cruel slavery or immediate death awaited them from the conquerors. Mamba defended himself heroically until a club smashed in his skull. His son, the young Faru, fell into the hands of Fumba, who ordered him bound as a future thanksgiving offering for the spirits who had come to his assistance.
Stasch did not lead the terrible King into the battle, but only allowed him to roar, which frightened the enemies much more. He did not shoot once at the Samburus, for in the first place, before leaving Lunla he promised little Nell not to kill any one, and secondly, he had really no desire to kill people who had never done him or Nell any harm. He was satisfied in having secured the victory for the Wa-himas and in having released the besieged Fumba. When Kali came running up soon after with the news of the final victory, he ordered him to stop the battle, which was still raging in the clefts of the rocks and was being prolonged by Fumba’s fury.
But it was daylight before Kali could accomplish this. As is usual in tropical countries, the sun rose quickly behind the mountains and flooded with its bright light the battlefield, where lay more than two hundred Samburu corpses. Some time later, when the fighting ceased and the joyful howling of the Wa-himas disturbed the morning calm, Kali reappeared, but with such a sad and sorry countenance that it was very evident, even from a distance, that some mishap had befallen him. Standing still before Stasch, he began to pound his head with his fists and to cry out in a sad voice:
“O Great Man! Fumba kufa! Fumba kufa!”[40]
“Killed?” repeated Stasch questioningly.
Kali related what had happened, and from his words it was readily understood that this sad misfortune was the result of Fumba’s revenge, for after the battle was over he attempted to kill two Samburus, and from one of them he received a thrust from a lance.
The news was soon dispersed among the Wa-himas, and an excited group surrounded Kali. Soon afterward six warriors carried the old king on spears. He was not dead, but mortally wounded. He wanted to see, before he died, the powerful man on an elephant who was the true conqueror of the Samburus. Astonishment was in his eyes, but the haze of death was also veiling them; and his pale and stiffening lips whispered softly:
“Yancig! Yancig!”
Shortly after his head sank back, his mouth opened wide and he expired.
Kali, who loved him, threw himself on his breast and wept. Some of the warriors began to beat their heads, others to proclaim Kali king and to cry out, “Yancig!” in his honor. Others fell on their faces before the young ruler. Not one dissenting voice was heard, for Kali was their king not only because he was Fumba’s eldest son, but also because he had gained the victory.
Meanwhile in the sorcerers’ huts and in the boma on the mountain-top the wild roaring of the bad Msimu could be heard. At first it was like the sound that Stasch had heard before in the negro village, but this time it was not directed against him, but demanded the death of the prisoners for killing Fumba. The drums beat, the warriors formed in a long line, each row consisting of three men, and then began a war-dance around Stasch, Kali, and the corpse of Fumba.
“Oa! Oa! Yach! Yach!” repeated all the voices, their heads wagging right to left in a monotonous manner, the whites of their eyes shining, and the points of their spears gleaming in the morning sun.
Kali stood up, turned to Stasch, and said:
“The Great Man will bring Bibi to the boma and live in Fumba’s hut. Kali will be king of the Wa-himas and the Great Man king over Kali.”
Stasch nodded his head as a sign of approval, but he remained there a few hours longer, for he and King needed a rest.
He did not leave until toward evening. During his absence the corpses of the Samburus were carried away and thrown into a deep ravine near by, over which a great many buzzards immediately settled. The sorcerers now made preparation for Fumba’s burial, and Kali assumed the rulership as an absolute monarch, with power of life and death over all his subjects.
“Do you know who Kali is?” Stasch asked the girl on the way back from Lunla.
Nell looked at him in surprise.
“He is your servant!”
“Oho! A servant! Kali is now king of all the Wa-himas.”
This news amused Nell very much. This sudden change, by which the former slave of the treacherous Gebhr and later Stasch’s servant had become king, struck Nell as extraordinary and exceedingly droll.
Linde’s remark that the negroes were like children, incapable of remembering what happened from one day to another, did not apply to Kali, for scarcely had Stasch and Nell reached the foot of Boko Mountain than the young monarch ran hastily toward them, greeted them with the usual reverence and joy, and repeated the same words he had spoken before:
“Kali be king of the Wa-himas and the Great Man king over Kali.”
His admiration was so great that he all but worshiped Stasch; he made a very low bow to Nell before the assembled people, for, from what he had observed during the journey, he knew that the Great Man was more concerned about the little Bibi than about himself.
After he had solemnly led Stasch and Nell up to the summit where the boma was, he assigned Fumba’s hut to them; it resembled a large shed divided into several rooms. He ordered the Wa-hima women, who accompanied them from Lunla, and who never tired of gazing at the good Msimu, to put vessels of honey and sour milk in the first room, and when he heard that the Bibi, who was very much fatigued from the journey, had fallen asleep, he commanded all the people to keep perfectly quiet, under penalty of having their tongues cut out. He now decided to pay them still greater homage, and so when Stasch appeared before the shed after a short rest, Kali approached, bowed low before him, and said:
“To-morrow Kali will give orders to bury Fumba and to behead as many slaves for Fumba and Kali as there are fingers on both their hands; and to propitiate Bibi and the Great Man Kali will order Faru, the son of Mamba, to be beheaded, and also wengi, wengi other Samburus taken prisoners by the Wa-himas.”
Stasch frowned, and gazing severely into Kali’s eyes, replied:
“I forbid it.”
“Sir,” said the young negro in a trembling voice, “the Wa-himas always behead their prisoners. When the old king dies they behead people; if a young king follows they behead people. If Kali does not command them to be killed the Wa-himas will not believe that Kali is king!”
Stasch looked at him still more severely:
“Well, how’s that?” said he. “And did you not learn anything on Linde Mountain? Are you not a Christian?”
“I am, O Great Man!”
“Then listen! The Wa-himas have black brains, but your brains must be white. As you are now their king, you must enlighten and teach them what you learned from me and Bibi. They are now like jackals and hyenas—make human beings of them. Tell them that it is forbidden to behead prisoners of war, for the Great Spirit to whom Bibi and I pray punishes those who shed innocent blood. White people do not behead prisoners, and you would treat them even more cruelly than Gebhr did you—and you a Christian! Shame on you, Kali! Replace the ancient and savage customs of the Wa-himas by humane ones and God will bless you, and Bibi will not say that Kali is a savage, a stupid and vicious negro.”
A terrible roaring from the sorcerers’ huts drowned his words. Stasch waved his hand excitedly and continued: “I hear! Your Msimu wants the blood and the heads of the prisoners. But you know quite well what this is, and so you are not frightened at this noise. Therefore I only say this much to you: Take a bamboo rod, go into every hut and thrash the sorcerers until they roar louder than their kettle-drums, and throw the kettle-drums into the midst of the boma, so that all the Wa-himas may see and comprehend how these villains are deceiving them; and at the same time tell your stupid Wa-himas what you told M’Rua’s people—that where the good Msimu dwells the blood of human beings must not be shed.”
Stasch’s words apparently had some weight with the young king, for he looked at him a moment and answered:
“Kali will thrash the sorcerers well, will throw out the kettle-drums, and tell the Wa-himas that where the good Msimu is no blood must be shed. But what shall Kali do with Faru and the Samburus who have killed Fumba?”
Stasch, who had already planned everything, had anticipated this question, immediately answered:
“Your father was slain, his father was slain, so both were slain. You must form a brotherhood with young Faru, then the Wa-himas and the Samburus will live together in peace, planting manioc and hunting together. You must tell Faru about the Great Spirit, and Faru will love you like a brother.”
“Kali now have white brains!” answered the young negro.
And thus the conversation ended. Soon afterward savage roars resounded once more, but this time not from the wicked Msimu, but from the two sorcerers, whose skin Kali was thrashing as hard as he could. The warriors, who had remained below standing in a circle around King, hurried up the hill to see what was the matter; they saw with their own eyes and heard from the words of the sorcerers themselves that the wicked Msimu, before whom they were accustomed to tremble, was only a hollowed-out tree trunk covered with monkey-skin. And when they told young Faru that in deference to the wishes of the good Msimu and the Great Man he was not to be beheaded, but that Kali would eat a piece of him and he a piece of Kali, he could not trust his senses; then on hearing to whom he owed his life, he pushed himself before the entrance to Fumba’s hut and lay there until Nell came out and bade him arise. Then he took hold of her little foot with his black hands and placed it on his head, as a sign that he would remain her slave for the rest of his life.
The Wa-himas were very much surprised at such orders of the young king, but the presence of the unknown guests, whom they looked upon as the most powerful sorcerers in the world, awed them to silence. The older people were displeased with the new customs, and the two sorcerers, realizing that all their good times were over, swore in their hearts to take terrible vengeance on the king and the newcomers.
Meanwhile Fumba was solemnly buried at the foot of the mountain under the boma. Kali planted a bamboo cross on his grave, and the negroes placed on it several vessels containing pombe and smoked meat, so that his spirit would not disturb them during the night.
After the ceremony of the brotherhood between Kali and Faru was over, Mamba’s corpse was given to the Samburus.
[38]
An intoxicating beer made from millet.
[39]
Lances and spears.
[40]
Fumba is dead.
“Well, can you tell how many journeys we have made since we left Fayoum?” asked Stasch.
“Yes.”
The girl raised her eyebrows and began to count on her fingers.
“Let me see: From Fayoum to Khartum—the first journey; from Khartum to Fashoda—the second; from Fashoda to the gorge, where we found King—the third; from Linde Mountain to the lake—the fourth!”
“Right. Perhaps there is not another fly in the world who has flown through so much of Africa.”
“This fly would have been in a nice plight without you.”
And he began to laugh.
“A fly on an elephant! A fly on an elephant!”
“But no tsetse. Ah, Stasch, no tsetse?”
“No,” he replied; “a more agreeable kind of fly.”
Nell, satisfied with this praise, leaned her little face on his arm and asked:
“And when shall we start on our fifth journey?”
“As soon as you are rested and I have taught these people, whom Kali has promised to send along with us, how to shoot a little.”
“And are we going to travel very long?”
“Oh, long, Nell, long! Who knows if this won’t be the longest road?”
“And you will, as you always do, find a way out of all our difficulties?”
“Imust.”
Stasch really did the best he could, but the fifth journey required great preparation. They were going once more into unknown districts, in which there lurked innumerable dangers, and against these the boy wished to take greater precautions than he had ever done before. For this reason he taught forty young Wa-himas to shoot with Remington rifles, for he thought they would form a picked troop and would also serve as a guard for Nell. He could not train more men to shoot, for King had only carried twenty-five rifles and the horses had carried fifteen. The rest of the army was to be made up of a hundred Wa-himas and a hundred Samburus armed with lances and bows, which Faru promised to supply, and whose presence solved the difficulties of the journey through the long stretch of wild country inhabited by the Samburu tribes. Stasch recollected with pride how he had fled from Fashoda, traveling with no one but Nell and two negroes, and that he had had no help of any kind; so he now thought that, being in command of two hundred armed men, and having an elephant and some horses, he could soon reach the coast. He tried to imagine what Englishmen, who lay such stress on forming resolutions, would say to this, and especially what his father and Mr. Rawlison would say, and this made every difficulty appear light.
Nevertheless, he was very uneasy for Nell’s safety and for his own. Sure enough, he would most likely have little difficulty in passing through the Wa-hima and Samburu territory, but what would follow? What kind of tribes would he be likely to meet, through what countries and how many miles would he have to travel? Linde’s directions had not been specific enough. Stasch was very much worried because he had no idea where he was, for this part of Africa was represented as a white spot on the maps which he had studied. Besides, he had not the least idea what the Basso-Narok Lake really was like or how large it was. He happened to be on its south bank, where it appeared to be some ten kilometers wide. But how far the lake stretched toward the north was something that neither the Wa-himas nor the Samburus could tell him. Kali, who knew the Ki-swahili language fairly well, answered all questions with “bali, bali,” which meant “far, far,” and that was all that Stasch could get him to say.
As in the north, the mountains at the horizon appeared to be fairly near, and he supposed that this water was a small salt lake, many of which are to be found in Africa. Several years later it was evident that he had been mistaken.[41]For the present it was not absolutely necessary to be more familiar with the banks of the Basso-Narok, but it was important to find out whether a river flowed from it, eventually emptying itself into the ocean. The Samburus, Faru’s subjects, declared that to the east of their country lay a large, waterless desert, which no one had ever crossed. Stasch knew the negroes well from the stories of travelers and from Linde’s adventures, as well as from his own experiences with them, and he was convinced that as soon as danger and weariness would overtake them many would return home, and perhaps not a single one remain with him. In this case he would find himself in the middle of the desert alone with Nell, Mea, and the little Nasibu. But, above all, he recognized that the lack of water would break up and disperse the caravan. Following the water-course, it would be impossible to suffer the tortures which attack all travelers in arid regions, so he inquired where a stream could be found.
But the Samburus were unable to give him any reliable information, and he could not take a lengthy excursion along the eastern bank of the lake because other duties retained him at the boma. He was of the opinion that of all the kites he had sent up from Linde Mountain and from the negro villages through which they had passed, probably not one had flown over the chain of mountains surrounding the Basso-Narok. For this reason it was necessary to make new ones and send them up, for these were the only ones the wind could carry far off over the flat desert, perhaps to the ocean. He had to give his personal attention to this matter, for Nell was very skilful in making the kites and Kali had learned how to send them up, but neither was able to write on them the necessary message. Stasch believed this to be a matter of the greatest importance, which should on no account be neglected.
These duties occupied so much time that the caravan was not ready to start for three weeks. On the evening before they intended to depart the young king of the Wa-himas appeared before Stasch, made a low bow, and said:
“Kali will go with the master and with Bibi as far as the sheet of water on which the large rafts of the white men swim.”
This proof of devotion touched Stasch, but he did not feel he had the right to take the boy on such an extended journey, from which he might not be able to return in safety.
“Why do you want to go with us?” he asked.
“Kali loves the Great Man and Bibi.”
Stasch laid his hand on the woolly head.
“Kali, I know that you are a true and faithful boy. But what will happen to your kingdom, and who will reign over the Wa-himas in your place?”
“M’Lana, a brother of Kali’s mother.”
Stasch knew that negroes fight for the throne, that power attracts them just as it does white people; he thought a while and then said:
“No, Kali! I can not take you along. You must stay with the Wa-himas in order to make good people of them.”
“Kali return to them.”
“M’Lana has many sons, and what would happen if he should aspire to be king himself and to leave his kingdom to his sons, and therefore instigate the Wa-himas against you, so that they drive you away when you seek to return?”
“M’Lana is good. He no do that!”
“But if he does do it?”
“Then Kali will go to the great sheet of water, to the Great Man and Bibi.”
“We shall not be there then.”
“Then Kali will sit down near the water and weep for sorrow.”
At these words he folded his hands over his head and whispered:
“Kali loves the Great Man and Bibi—very much!” And two large tears shone in his eyes.
Stasch hesitated, not knowing what to do. He felt sorry for Kali, but he did not grant his request at once. He knew that—apart from the dangers he might encounter on the return journey—if M’Lana or the sorcerers were to incite the negroes, not only would the young negro be banished from his country, but his life would be endangered.
“It will be much better for you to stay here,” he said; “much better!”
But while he was speaking Nell appeared; she had overheard the whole conversation through the thin partition which separated the caravan, and when she saw tears in Kali’s eyes she wiped them away with her little fingers, and turning to Stasch, said:
“Kali will go with us!” This she spoke in a decided tone.
“Oho!” answered Stasch, a little hurt. “You are not the one to decide.”
“Kali will go with us!” she repeated.
“Perhaps not!”
Then she suddenly stamped her little foot, saying:
“I wish it!” And burst into tears.
Stasch looked at her in great surprise, as if unable to understand what had happened to the child, who was usually so good and so gentle, but when he saw how she put both little fists up to her eyes and with open mouth gasped for air like a little bird, he at once said:
“Kali shall go with us—yes, he shall go with us! Why are you crying? How unreasonable you are! He shall go! Do you hear? He shall go!”
And so it was settled. Stasch felt ashamed of himself all that day because of his weakness in giving in to the “good Msimu,” and she, having gained her point, was as quiet, gentle, and submissive as ever.
[41]
This was the large lake discovered by the famous explorer Teleki in 1888, and named Rudolf Lake.
The caravan started on its journey at sunrise the following day. The young negro felt very happy, the little despot was gentle and obedient, and Stasch was full of energy and hope. A hundred Wa-himas accompanied them, forty of the latter being armed with Remington rifles, which they knew how to use quite well. Their white leader, who had instructed them for three weeks, knew that at a given signal they would make a great deal of noise, but do little damage; he also knew that in a conflict with savage people noise plays as important a part as do bullets, and he was pleased with his guards. The caravan took away large quantities of manioc, little baked cakes made of big fat ants carefully dried and ground to flour, and also a great deal of smoked meat. About ten women also accompanied the caravan, and they carried various things for Nell’s comfort and water-bags made of antelope skins. From the elephant’s back Stasch supervised and gave orders, which were perhaps not exactly necessary, but he did this more because he loved to play the rôle of the leader of an army; indeed, he surveyed his small army with pride.
“If I wanted to,” he said to himself, “I could be king of all these tribes—just as Benjowski was in Madagascar!”
And the thought flashed through his brain that perhaps it would be well to return here eventually, subjugate a whole region, civilize the negroes, and found a new Poland in this country, or even to leave for old Poland at the head of an army of trained negro soldiers; but feeling this was an absurd idea, and doubting whether his father would give him permission to play the part of an Alexander of Macedon in Africa, he did not confide these thoughts to Nell, who was the only person in the world who would agree with him.
Besides, it would be essential to be independent of these savages before attempting to conquer this part of Africa, and so he busied himself with what lay nearest him. The caravan advanced in a rope-like line. Stasch, on King, had determined to bring up the rear, so as to be able to have everything under his own eyes.
When the people marched past him in single file he noticed with surprise that the two sorcerers, M’Kunji and M’Pua, who had been thrashed by Kali, also belonged to the caravan, and were carrying baggage on their heads and marching along with the others.
He stopped them and asked:
“Who told you you might go along with us?”
“The king,” answered both, bowing very low.
But under the mask of humility their eyes shone so wildly and their faces bore such an expression of rage that at first Stasch felt like driving them away, and was only prevented because he did not wish to undermine Kali’s authority.
Calling Kali to him, he asked:
“Did you order the sorcerers to go with us?”
“Kali told them to, for Kali is clever.”
“Therefore I again ask you, why did your cleverness not leave them at home?”
“If M’Kunji and M’Pua had remained, they would have stirred up the Wa-himas so that they would have killed Kali on his return, and if they go along with us Kali will look out for them and put a guard on them.”
Stasch considered a while and said:
“Perhaps you are right; but be on the alert day and night, for there is mischief in their eyes.”
“Kali has bamboos,” answered the young negro.
The caravan now set forth. At the last moment Stasch ordered that the guards equipped with Remington rifles should close the procession, for they were selected and trusted men. During the gun practising they had in a way become fond of their young leader, and because they guarded his illustrious person they felt themselves more favored than the others. They now had to guard the entire caravan and to capture those who attempted to run away. It was evident that as soon as danger or fatigue came there would be plenty of deserters.
On the first day, however, everything was peaceful as could be. The negroes with the burdens on their heads, each armed with a spear and several smaller darts, wound through the jungle in one long line. For a while they advanced over a flat tract on the southern border of the lake, but as high mountain summits enclosed the lake on all sides, they found on turning toward the east that it was necessary to climb over the hills. The old Samburus, who knew this country, declared that the caravan would have to cross narrow passes which lay between the mountains Kulall and Imo, and that until they reached the other side they would not come to the flat land south of Bovani. Stasch knew that they could not march directly eastward, for he remembered that Mombasa lay several degrees the other side of the equator, and therefore a considerable distance south of this unknown lake. But as he still possessed several of Linde’s compasses he was not afraid of losing his way.
The quarters for the first night were arranged on a woody height.
As soon as it had become dark a great many campfires flashed forth, around which the negroes roasted dried meat and ate cakes made of manioc roots, which they took out of the pots with their fingers. After they had appeased their hunger and thirst they talked over matters with one another, speculating as to where “Bwana Kubwa” was going to lead them, and what they would receive for their services. Some sang as they squatted on the ground like Turks and stared into the fire, but they all talked so long and so loudly that at last Stasch was obliged to command silence so that Nell could sleep.
The night was very cool, but the next morning when the first rays of sunlight lighted up the scene the air became warm. At sunrise the small travelers beheld a peculiar sight. They were just approaching a lake about two hundred kilometers long, or what might be called a large puddle, which had been formed in a mountain valley by the rain, when Stasch, who was sitting alongside of the girl on King and surveying his surroundings through the telescope, suddenly cried:
“Nell, look! See the elephants going to the water!”
Half a kilometer away could be seen a herd of five beasts slowly advancing single file toward the small lake.
“But these are strange looking elephants,” said Stasch, who was still regarding them very attentively. “They are not so large as King, and have much smaller ears, and as for tusks, I don’t see any at all.”
Meanwhile the elephants went into the water, but they did not pause on the bank like King usually did, and did not bathe themselves with their trunks, but steadily advancing, they went deeper and deeper into the water, so that at last only their black backs, resembling pieces of rock, stood out over the surface of the water.
“What’s that? They are diving!” cried Stasch.
The caravan was slowly approaching the bank, and at last reached it. Stasch ordered a halt, and gazed with the greatest surprise, first at Nell, then at the lake. There was nothing to be seen of the elephants except five dots looking like red flowers riding above the surface of the water and rocking gently to and fro.
“They are standing on the bottom, and these are the ends of their trunks,” exclaimed Stasch, scarcely believing his own eyes. Then he called to Kali:
“Kali, did you see?”
“Yes, sir, Kali has seen; those are water-elephants,”[42]answered the young negro calmly.
“Water-elephants?”
“This is not the first time Kali has seen them!”
“And they live in the water?”
“In the night they go into the jungle and graze; in the daytime they live in the lake, just like the riboks.[43]They do not go out until after sunset.”
For some time Stasch could not recover from his surprise, and had he not been in a hurry to continue the journey he would have held back the caravan till the evening, so as to have a better opportunity of observing these peculiar beasts. But it also occurred to him that the elephants might emerge on the opposite side of the lake, and even if they were to come out of the water at any nearer place, it would be difficult to see them well in the dark.
So he gave the command to depart, but on the way he said to Nell:
“Nell, we have seen something which no European has ever seen before. And do you know what I think? That if we are lucky enough to reach the ocean no one will believe me when I tell them that there are water-elephants in Africa.”
“And if you had caught one of them and had taken it along with you to the ocean?” said Nell, who, as usual, felt satisfied that Stasch could do anything.
[42]
In Africa there are many unraveled mysteries. Tales of water-elephants had repeatedly reached the ears of explorers, but no one credited them. Lately the Paris Museum of Natural History commissioned Monsieur Le Petit, who had seen water-elephants on the shores of Lake Leopold in the Congo, to write on the subject. This report can be seen in the German Magazine “Kosmos.”
[43]
Hippopotamus.
After traveling ten days the caravan issued from the mountain pass and entered a very different region, an extended plain, mostly level, but broken here and there by small, wave-like hillocks. The vegetation was completely changed. No large trees towered above the waving, grassy plain. Only here and there, quite far apart, there sprang up rubber-acacias, with coral-colored and umbrella-shaped stems, but scanty foliage, and therefore furnishing but little shade. In some places between the ant-hills a species of euphorbia, with branches resembling the arms of a candlestick, grew taller than the grass. Hawks soared high in the air, and lower down black and white feathered crow-like birds flew from one acacia bush to the other. The grass was yellow and had ears like ripe corn. The dried-up jungle seemed to furnish abundant food for many different kinds of animals, for during the day the travelers often met large herds of antelope and a great many zebras. The heat on the open and treeless plain became unbearable. The sky was cloudless, the days were fiery hot, and the night did not bring much relief.
Day by day the journey grew more arduous. The small villages through which the caravan passed were inhabited by the wildest savages, who were so terror-stricken that they received the travelers very reluctantly, and if it had not been for the numerous armed men and the sight of white faces, and King and Saba, great danger would have threatened them.
Stasch, aided by Kali, learned that there were no more villages farther on, and that they were coming to a waterless district. The tales they heard were hard to believe, for the numerous animals they saw must have found some watering-place. But these stories of a desert in which there was rumored to be neither stream nor puddle frightened the negroes, and some of them deserted the party, and M’Kunji and M’Pua set the example. Fortunately, their flight was quickly perceived, and the mounted troupe which accompanied the travelers discovered them before they had gotten far from the camp. When they were brought back Kali, by the aid of a bamboo rod, convinced them of the inadvisability of such a course. Stasch assembled the whole company and gave them a lecture, which the young negro translated into their native language. Dwelling on the fact that at their last headquarters they had heard lions roaring around the camp all night, Stasch did his best to convince his people that any one attempting to run away would certainly become their prey, or if he were to pass the night in an acacia tree the still more terrible wobos would lie in wait for him. He also said that where there are antelope there must also be water, and that if in the course of their journey they were to strike waterless regions, they could take with them enough water for two or three days in bags of antelope skin. The negroes paid strict attention to what he said, and continually repeated:
“Oh, mother, how true it is!” but the following night five Samburus and two Wa-himas deserted, and from that time some one was missing every night. But M’Kunji and M’Pua did not make a second attempt to escape for the simple reason that Kali had them bound at sundown every night.
The country became drier and drier, the sun beat down mercilessly on the jungle, and not a single acacia could now be seen. They still came across herds of antelope, though fewer than they had seen previously. The donkey and the horses so far had enough food, for beneath the high dried grass they found in many places short, green grass only slightly scorched by the sun. But King, although he was not fastidious, became much thinner. On approaching an acacia he would break it apart with his head and trunk and fill himself with young leaves and pods. Until now the caravan had always been able to strike water, though it was often bad and had to be filtered, or so salty that it was not fit to drink. Then it often happened that the men Stasch sent out in advance under Kali’s guidance would return without having found a single puddle or even a tiny brook in the hollows of the ground, and Kali would proclaim in troubled tones, “Madi apana”—“There is no water there.”
Stasch was soon convinced that this long, final journey would certainly not be easier than the ones they had accomplished before, and he began to worry about Nell, for a great change had also come over her. Her face, instead of being tanned by the sun and wind, had become paler and paler day by day and her eyes had lost their accustomed brilliancy. Fortunately, on these dry plains there were no flies nor danger of fever, but it was very evident that the unbearable heat was wasting away the girl’s strength. Even now the boy looked sadly and apprehensively at her little hands, which had become as white as paper, and he bitterly reproached himself for having lost so much time in making preparations and in instructing the negroes how to shoot that he had to continue the journey in the hottest time of the year.
With these anxieties the days passed. Even more greedily and mercilessly the sun drank the dampness and the life from the earth. The grass shriveled and dried up until it was so brittle that it broke off under the hoofs of the antelope, which threw up clouds of dust as they passed. But the travelers now found a small stream, which they distinguished from a distance by the long rows of trees growing on its banks. The negroes ran as fast as they could toward the trees, and on arriving at the bank threw themselves down side by side on the ground, dipping their heads in the water and drinking so greedily that they only desisted when a crocodile caught one of them by the hand. Other negroes immediately hastened to the assistance of their comrade and drew the horrible reptile out of the water at once, but it would not let go of the man’s hand, although they opened its jaws with spears and knives. King, however, made an end of it by trampling it under foot, as if it had been a rotten mushroom. When the negroes had at last quenched their thirst, Stasch ordered a round fence of tall bamboos to be erected in the shallow water, so it could only be entered from one side of the bank, that Nell might bathe in privacy. The girl was greatly refreshed by the bath, after which she lay down, and after a rest felt greatly strengthened.
To the great delight of the whole caravan, including Nell, Bwana Kubwa decided to remain ten days near the water. When this became known all felt so happy that they forgot the fatigue they had experienced; some, after being restored by a good nap, wandered among the trees near the stream looking for palms that bear wild dates,[44]called Job’s tears,[45]of which necklaces are made. Some of them returned before sunset carrying in their hands square, white objects, which Stasch recognized as his own kites.
One of these kites bore the number seven, which proved that it had been sent up from Linde Mountain, for the children had sent up at least ten from that place. The sight of this pleased Stasch so much that he took heart again.
“I had no idea,” he said to Nell, “that the kites could fly so far. I was sure that they would be entangled in the peaks of the Karamajo Mountains, and I only sent them up thinking to let them take their chance. But now I see that the wind can carry them in any direction, and I trust those we sent up from the mountains around the Basso-Narok and on the road here will fly as far as the ocean.”
“They will certainly fly there,” said Nell.
“So be it!” said the boy to strengthen his trust, while thinking of the dangers and difficulties that still lay before them on their journey.
The third day the caravan started off again, taking with them a large supply of water in the leather bags. Before nightfall they again came to a region dried up by the rays of the sun. Not even an acacia was to be seen, and the ground in some places resembled a threshing-floor. Occasionally they came across passiflora with stems penetrating the ground and resembling huge bottle-gourds,[46]as much as four feet or more in diameter. From these enormous balls grew lianas, thin as twine, which crept along the ground quite a distance, forming such an impenetrable thicket that even mice would have had a hard time to find a way through it. But notwithstanding the beautiful green of these plants, which remind one of the European bear’s-foot, they were so very thorny that neither King nor the horses could eat any part of them. The donkey, however, nibbled at them, though very carefully.
At times they saw nothing for several miles except coarse short grass and flowers of a low order, like the Dürrblumen,[47]which breaks off at the merest touch. On their first day in this place the sun beat down in fiery heat all day long. The air quivered as it does in the Libyan desert. The earth was so flooded with light that all objects appeared white. Not a sound, not even the buzzing of insects, broke the deathlike stillness, through which penetrated the wilting glare.
All in the party were bathed in perspiration. Now and again they would lay down the baggage, the dried meat, and the shields in a large pile, so as to find shade beneath it. Stasch gave orders to be sparing of the water; but negroes are like children, who take no thought for the morrow. At last it became necessary to place a guard around those who carried the bags of provisions, and to deal out a fixed allowance of water to each one separately. Kali fulfilled this task very conscientiously, but it consumed a great deal of time, retarded their march, and therefore the finding of new watering-places. The Samburus now complained that the Wa-himas were given more water than they, and the Wa-himas complained that the preference was shown to the Samburus. The latter now threatened to turn back, but Stasch gave them to understand that if they did Faru would have them beheaded, and he himself ordered the hunters, who were armed with Remington rifles, to keep guard and see that no one escaped.
The second night they passed on a barren plain. No boma, or, as they called it in the Sudanese language, zareba, was erected, for there was nothing there to build it of.
King and Saba formed the camp guards, which in reality was sufficient protection; but King, who had not been given a tenth of the water he needed, trumpeted for it until sunrise, and Saba hung out his tongue, turned his eyes toward Stasch and Nell, silently begging for at least a few drops of water to drink. The girl asked Stasch to give the dog a little drink of water out of one of the rubber bags which they had found among Linde’s things, and which he wore attached to a cord around his neck, but he was keeping this for the little girl, in case of dire necessity, and refused her request.
Toward evening of the fourth day there were only five small bags of water left, containing hardly enough to give each person half a glassful. But as the nights were always cooler than the days, one is not so thirsty then as under the burning rays of the sun, and as every one had been given a little water to drink in the morning, Stasch ordered that the water-bags be reserved for the following day. The negroes grumbled at this, but they still stood in such awe of Stasch that they did not dare to tamper with the little that was left, especially as there were always two men armed with Remington rifles keeping guard over the water-bags, who relieved each other every hour. The Wa-himas and the Samburus quenched their thirst as best they could by pulling up miserable blades of grass and chewing their small roots, but even these had retained no moisture, for the merciless sun had sucked it all out of the ground.[48]
Although sleep did not quench their thirst, it at least enabled them to forget it. At night every one of the party, tired and exhausted from the day’s march, dropped down where he stood, apparently lifeless, and fell fast asleep. Stasch also slept, but he was too much worried and troubled to sleep long and restfully. After a few hours he awoke and began to wonder what the future would bring forth and where he could find water for Nell and the whole caravan, man and beast. The situation was difficult and even terrible, but as yet the sensible boy did not yield to despair. He recalled all that had happened since they had been carried off from Fayoum until the present moment—the first great journey through the Sahara, the hurricane in the desert, the escape from Gebhr, then the journey which they took after Linde’s death to Lake Basso-Narok and on to where they were now stopping. “We have gone through so much, and suffered so much,” he said to himself. “How often it seemed to me that everything had collapsed and I could find no way out of my difficulties; yet God helped me, and I always found a way out. It is quite impossible that after having gone so far and been through so many dangers we should give out on this last journey. We still have a little water, and this place is certainly not the Sahara, for if it were the people would surely have known it!”
But he was especially elated by the fact that during the day he had seen through the telescope indistinct outlines, as of mountains, lying toward the south. To reach them would mean a journey of perhaps a hundred miles; but if they only could reach them they would be saved, for mountains are rarely without water. How much time that would require he was unable to tell, for it depended on the height of the mountain. In air so transparent as in Africa high summits can be seen a considerable distance away, so water must be found nearer by. Otherwise destruction threatened them.
“Itmustbe done!” Stasch repeated to himself.
The hard breathing of the elephant, who was trying his best to blow the fiery heat out of his lungs, continually interrupted the thoughts of the boy. But after a while it seemed to him as if he heard a voice like some one groaning, which sounded as though it came from another part of the camp; in fact, from where the water-bags lay covered up for the night with grass. As the groaning continued, he arose and went to see what was the matter. The night was so bright that in the distance he could see two dark bodies lying side by side and the barrels of the guns glistening in the moonlight.
“The negroes are all alike!” he thought. “They should be guarding this water, which is now more precious to us than anything else in the world, and both of them are sleeping as soundly as if in their own huts. Ah! Kali’s bamboo will be of some use to-morrow!”
With these thoughts he approached nearer and kicked one of the guards, but immediately drew back horrified—for the apparently sleeping negro lay on his back with a knife thrust up to the hilt in his throat, and beside him lay the other man with his throat so terribly cut that his head was nearly severed from his body.
Two bags of water had disappeared—three lay in the middle of the uprooted grass slit open and shriveled.
Stasch’s hair stood on end.
[44]
Phœnix Senegalensis.
[45]
Coix Lacrymax-Jobi.
[46]
Adenia globosa.
[47]
Plants peculiarly adapted to dry climates.
[48]
For further information regarding the arid plains in these regions see the excellent book, “Kili Mandjaro,” by Father Le Roy, now Bishop of Gabun.