Both the present and the future looked as gloomy as could be imagined; but I had always expected extraordinary difficulties, and they were, if possible, to be surmounted. It was useless to speculate upon chances. There was no hope of success in inaction, and the only resource was to drive through all obstacles without calculating the risk.<\/p>\n
The day arrived for the departure of Koorshid’s people. They commenced firing their usual signals, the drums beat, the Turkish ensign led the way, and they marched at 2 o’clock P.M., sending a polite message “DARING” me to follow them.<\/p>\n
I immediately ordered the tent to be struck, the luggage to be arranged, the animals to be collected, and everything to be ready for the march. Richarn and Saat were in high spirits; even my unwilling men were obliged to work, and by 7 P.M. we were all ready.<\/p>\n
We had neither guide nor interpreter. Not one native was procurable, all being under the influence of the traders, who had determined to render our advance utterly impossible by preventing the natives from assisting us. All had been threatened, and we, perfectly helpless, commenced the desperate journey in darkness about an hour after sunset.<\/p>\n
“Where shall we go?” said the men, just as the order was given to start. “Who can travel without a guide? No one knows the road.” The moon was up, and the mountain of Belignan was distinctly visible about nine miles distant. Knowing that the route lay on the east side of that mountain, I led the way, Mrs. Baker riding by my side, and the British flag following close behind us as a guide for the caravan of heavily laden camels and donkeys. And thus we started on our march into Central Africa on the 26th of March, 1863.<\/p>\n
The country was park-like, but much parched by the dry weather. The ground was sandy, but firm, and interspersed with numerous villages, all of which were surrounded with a strong fence of euphorbia. The country was well wooded, being free from bush or jungle, but numerous trees, all evergreens, were scattered over the landscape. No natives were to be seen but the sound of their drums and singing in chorus was heard in the far distance. Whenever it is moonlight the nights are passed in singing and dancing, beating drums, blowing horns, and the population of whole villages thus congregate together.<\/p>\n
After a silent march of two hours we saw watchfires blazing in the distance, and upon nearer approach we perceived the trader’s party bivouacked. Their custom is to march only two or three hours on the first day of departure, to allow stragglers who may have lagged behind in Gondokoro to rejoin the party before morning.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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