XXIII
After ten days' journey the caravan finally crossed the depressions in the crests of mountains and entered into a different country. It was an immense plain, broken here and there by small hills, but was mainly level. The vegetation changed entirely. There were no big trees, rising singly or in clumps over the wavy surface of the grass. Here and there projected at a considerable distance from each other acacias yielding gum, with coral-hued trunks, umbrella-like, but with scant foliage and affording but little shade. Among the white-ant hillocks shot upwards here and there euphorbias, with boughs like the arms of a candle-stick. In the sky vultures soared, and lower there flew from acacia to acacia birds of the raven species with black and white plumage. The grass was yellow and, in spike, looked like ripe rye. But, nevertheless, that dry jungle obviously supplied food for a great number of animals, for several times each day the travelers met considerable herds of antelopes, hartbeests, and particularly zebras. The heat on the open and treeless plain became unbearable. The sky was cloudless, the days were excessively hot, and the night did not bring any rest.
The journey became each day more and more burdensome. In the villages which the caravan encountered, the extremely savage populace received it with fear, but principally with reluctance, and if it were not for the large number of armed guards as well as the sight of the white faces, the King, and Saba, great danger would have threatened the travelers.
With Kali's assistance Stas was able to ascertain that farther on there were no villages and that the country was waterless. This was hard to believe, for the numerous herds which they encountered must have drunk somewhere. Nevertheless, the account of the desert, in which there were no rivers nor sloughs, frightened the negroes and desertions began. The first example was set by M'Kunje and M'Pua. Fortunately their escape was detected early, and pursuers on horseback caught them not far from the camp; when they were brought back Kali, with the aid of the bamboo sticks, impressed upon them the impropriety of their conduct. Stas, assembling all the guards, delivered a speech to them, which the young negro interpreted into the native language. Taking advantage of the fact that at the last stopping place lions roared all night about the camp, Stas endeavored to convince his men that whoever ran away would unavoidably become their prey, and even if he passed the night on acacia boughs the still more terrible "wobo" would find him there. He said afterwards that wherever the antelopes live there must be water, and if in the further course of their journey they should chance upon a region entirely destitute of water, they could take enough of it with them in bags of antelope skin for two or three days' journey. The negroes, hearing his words, repeated every little while, one after another: "Oh, mother, how true that is, how true!" but the following night five Samburus and two Wahimas ran away, and after that every night somebody was missing.
M'Kunje and M'Pua did not, however, try their fortune a second time for the simple reason that Kali at sunset ordered them to be bound.
Nevertheless, the country became drier and drier, and the sun scorched the jungle unmercifully. Even acacias could not be seen. Herds of antelopes appeared continually but in smaller numbers. The donkey and the horses yet found sufficient food, as under the high, dry grass was hidden in many places lower grass, greener and less dry. But the King, though he was not fastidious, grew lean. When they chanced upon an acacia he broke it with his head, and nibbled diligently its leaves and even the pods of the previous year. The caravan indeed came upon water every day, but frequently it was so bad that it had to be filtered or else it was unfit even for the elephant to drink. Afterwards it happened several times that the men, sent in advance, returned under Kali's command, not finding a slough nor a stream hidden in the earth's fissures, and Kali with troubled face would announce: "Madi apana" (no water).
Stas understood that this last journey would not be any easier than the previous ones and began to worry about Nell, as changes were taking place in her. Her little face, instead of tanning from the sun and wind, became each day paler and her eyes lost their usual luster. On the dry plain, free from mosquitoes, she was not threatened with fever, but it was apparent that the terrible heat was wasting the little maid's strength. The boy, with compassion and with fear, now gazed at her little hands, which became as white as paper, and bitterly reproached himself because, having lost so much time in the preparation and in drilling the negroes to shoot, he had exposed her to a journey in a season of the year so parching.
Amid these fears day after day passed. The sun drank up the moisture and the life out of the soil more and more greedily and unmercifully. The grass shriveled and dried up to such a degree that it crumbled under the hoofs of the antelopes, and herds, rushing by, though not numerous, raised clouds of dust. Nevertheless, the travelers chanced once more upon a little river, which they recognized by a long row of trees growing on its banks. The negroes ran in a race towards the trees and, reaching the bank, lay flat on it, dipping their heads and drinking so greedily that they stopped only when a crocodile seized the hand of one of their number. Others rushed to their companion's rescue and in one moment they pulled out of the water the loathsome lizard, which, however, did not let go of the man's hand though his jaws were opened with spears and knives. The matter was only terminated by the King who, placing his foot on him, crushed him as easily as if he were a mouldy mushroom.
When the men finally quenched their thirst, Stas ordered the erection in the shallow water of a round enclosure of high bamboos with only one entrance from the bank, in order that Nell might bathe with perfect safety. And at the entrance he stationed the King. The bath greatly refreshed the little maid and a rest restored her strength somewhat.
To the great joy of the whole caravan and Nell, "Bwana kubwa" decided to stop two days near this water. At this news the men fell into excellent humor and at once forgot the toils they had endured. After taking a nap and refreshments the negroes began to wander among the trees above the river, looking for palms bearing wild dates and so-called "Job's tears," from which necklaces are made. A few of them returned to the camp before sunset, carrying some square objects which Stas recognized as his own kites.
One of these kites bore the number 7, which was evidence that it was sent out from Mount Linde, as the children flew from that place a few score. Stas was hugely overjoyed at this sight and it gave him renewed courage.
"I did not expect," he said to Nell, "that kites could fly such a distance. I was certain that they would remain on the summits of Karamojo and I only let them fly prepared for any accident. But now I see that the wind can carry them where it wants to and I have a hope that those which we sent from the mountains surrounding Bassa-Narok, and now on the road, will fly as far as the ocean."
"They surely will," Nell answered.
"God grant," the boy acquiesced, thinking of the dangers and hardships of the further journey.
The caravan started from the river on the third day, taking with them a great supply of water in leather bags. Before nightfall they again entered upon a region grilled by the sun, in which not even acacias grew, and the ground in some places was as bare as a threshing-floor. Sometimes they met passion-flowers with trunks imbedded in the ground and resembling monstrous pumpkins two yards in diameter. In these huge globes there shot out lianas as thin as string, which, creeping over the ground, covered immense distances, forming a thicket so impenetrable that it would be difficult even for mice to penetrate it. But notwithstanding the beautiful color of these plants, resembling the European acanthus, there were so many thorns in them that neither the King nor the horses could find any nourishment in them. Only the donkey nibbled them cautiously.
Sometimes in the course of several English miles they did not see anything except coarse, short grass and low plants, like immortelles, which crumbled upon being touched. After a night's bivouac, during the whole of the following day a living fire descended from heaven. The air quivered as on the Libyan Desert. In the sky there was not even a cloudlet. The earth was so flooded with light that everything appeared white, and not a sound, not even the buzz of insects, interrupted this deadly stillness surfeited with an ill-omened luster.
The men were dripping with sweat. At times they deposited their packs of dried meats and shields in one pile to find a little shade under them. Stas issued orders to save the water, but the negroes are like children, who have no thought of the morrow. Finally it was necessary to surround with a guard those who carried the supplies of water and to apportion the water to each one separately. Kali attended to this very conscientiously, but this consumed a great deal of time and delayed the march, and therefore the finding of some kind of watering-place. The Samburus complained in addition that the Wahimas got more than their share to drink, and the Wahimas that the Samburus were favored. These latter began to threaten to return, but Stas declared to them that Faru would cut off their heads. He himself ordered the men armed with Remingtons to go on guard and not let any one leave.
The next night was passed upon a level plain. They did not build a boma, or, as the Sudânese say, a zareba, for there was nothing to build one with. The duties of sentinel were performed by the King and Saba. This was sufficient, but the King, who received only a tenth of the water he needed, trumpeted for it until sunrise, and Saba, with hanging tongue, turned his eyes towards Stas and Nell in mute appeal for even one drop. The little maid wanted Stas to give him a mouthful from a rubber flask left by Linde, which Stas carried with a string across his shoulder, but he was saving this remnant for the little one in the dark hour; therefore he declined.
On the fourth day towards evening only five bags with water remained, or not quite half a cupful for each member of the party. As the nights, however, at any rate were cooler than the days, and the thirst at such times vexed them less than under the burning rays of the sun, and as the people had received in the morning a small quantity of water, Stas ordered those bags saved for the following day. The negroes grumbled at this order, but fear of Stas was still great; so they did not dare to rush at this last supply, especially as near it stood a guard of two men armed with Remingtons, the guard being changed every hour.
The Wahimas and Samburus cheated their thirst by pulling out blades of poor grass and chewing its roots. Nevertheless, there was almost no moisture in it, as the inexorable sun burnt it, even below the earth's surface.[1]
Sleep, though it did not quench their thirst, at least permitted them to forget it; so when night followed, the men, weary and exhausted with the whole day's march, dropped as though lifeless, wherever they stopped, and fell into deep slumber. Stas also fell asleep, but in his soul he had too many worries and was disturbed too much to sleep peacefully and long. After a few hours he awoke and began to meditate on what was to come, and where he could secure water for Nell, and for the whole caravan, together with the people and the animals. His situation was hard and perhaps horrible, but the resourceful boy did not yet yield to despair. He began to recall all the incidents, from the time of their abduction from Fayûm until that moment: the great journey across the Sahara, the hurricane in the desert, the attempts to escape, Khartûm, the Mahdi, Fashoda, their liberation from Gebhr's hands; afterwards the further journey after Linde's death until reaching Lake Bassa-Narok and that place at which they were passing the night. "So much did we undergo, so much have we suffered," he soliloquized, "so often did it seem that all was lost and that there was no help; nevertheless, God aided me and I always found help. Why, it is impossible that, after having passed over such roads and gone through so many terrible dangers, we should perish upon this the last journey. Now we have yet a little water and this region—why, it is not a Sahara, for if it were the people would know about it."
But hope was mainly sustained in him by this, that on the southeast he espied through the field-glass some kind of misty outlines as though of mountains. Perhaps they were hundreds of English miles away, perhaps more. But if they succeeded in reaching them, they would be saved, as mountains are seldom waterless. How much time that would consume was something he could not compute for it all depended upon the height of the mountains. Lofty peaks in such transparent atmosphere as that of Africa can be seen at an immeasurable distance; so it was necessary to find water before that time. Otherwise destruction threatened them.
"It is necessary," Stas repeated to himself.
The harsh breathing of the elephant, who exhaled from his lungs as best he could the burning heat, interrupted every little while the boy's meditations. But after a certain time it seemed to him that he heard some kind of sound, resembling groans, coming from the direction in which the water-bags lay covered in the grass for the night. As the groans were repeated several times, he rose to see what was happening and, walking towards the grass plot a few score paces distant from the tent, he perceived two dark bodies lying near each other and two Remington barrels glistening in the moonlight.
"The negroes are always the same," he thought; "they were to watch over the water, more precious now to us than anything in the world, and both went to sleep as though in their own huts. Ah! Kali's bamboo will have some work to do to-morrow."
Under this impression he approached and shook the foot of one of the sentinels, but at once drew back in horror.
The apparently sleeping negro lay on his back with a knife sticking in his throat up to the handle and beside him was the other, likewise cut so terribly that his head was almost severed from the trunk.
Two bags with water had disappeared; the other three lay in the littered grass, slashed and sunken.
Stas felt that his hair stood on end.
- ↑ About the waterless plains in this region see the excellent book, entitled "Kilima-Njaro," by the Rev. Mr. Le Roy, at present Bishop of Gabon.