CHAPTER XIX.

RETREAT OF THE FIFTEEN HUNDRED.

The start--Stanley’s illness--Mutiny--On the march--Skirmishes with the Warasura--Crossing the Semliki--The affluent of Lake Albert--In the valley--Mountains of the Moon--Speke’s geographical genius--Alpine climbing--The Usongora--Town of Kative--Lake Albert Edward--Sources of the Nile.

In the history of antiquity there is the record of a retreat above all others great and glorious. It was that of the 10,000 Greeks who after the battle of Cunaxa, through perils and dangers of every kind, without food, without guides, through wild and terrible country, pursued and harassed by Artaxerxes and his Persians, at last attained their native land. A thousand miles from the sea which they had thought never to behold again, they accomplished their march in 120 days, mainly owing to the skill and courage of their leaders. Of these Xenophon, who was one of the heroes of this memorable campaign, afterwards became its immortal historian.

We are now face to face with an achievement of a similar kind; which cannot fail to take its place in the pages of the world’s history, and which will have for its narrator the man who has accomplished the deed.

It is true there were not 10,000 men that Stanley had to convoy to the shore of the Indian Ocean; but his caravan included many helpless women, children, and slaves. Instead of brave and well-disciplined forces, he had to control artful and cowardly Egyptians, timid negroes, and Zanzibaris, who though loyal, were lazy. On the other hand, it was not 1000 but more than 1500 miles that he had to travel before reaching the harbour of safety, a distance equal to that covered in Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow.

Moreover, he was in the heart of the dark continent, beneath the burning rays of an equatorial sun, on the threshold of that mysterious region, the birthplace of the Nile, of which centuries of research failed to unveil the secrets.

And whilst he has thus thrown the achievements of the 10,000 into the shade, he has revealed an unknown country to the eyes of science, has introduced new nations to the world of history, has found the solution to the long-tried problem of the origin of the “Father of rivers.”

On April 10th, 1889, the camp at Kavalli was raised, and the caravan started, an interminable file of soldiers, porters, women, and children, carrying provisions, ammunition, and baggage of all sorts, and accompanied by all the cattle that could be procured. The retreat had commenced.

They encamped at Mazamboni’s on the 12th. The same night Stanley was struck down with severe illness, which well-nigh proved fatal. For some time his life was in danger, but thanks to his good constitution, and the careful nursing and attention of Dr. Parke, the disorder was overcome, and the patient was convalescent.

Stanley’s illness delayed the advance of the caravan for twenty-eight days. During that time several conspiracies were afloat in the camp amongst Emin’s soldiers. Only one, however, was attempted to be realised. The ringleader, a slave of Awach Effendi’s, whom Stanley had made free at Kavalli, was arrested, and after court-martial, which found him guilty, was immediately executed. From that time there was no further breach of discipline.

By May 8th, the column was able to resume its march. The route was to the south, skirting the region of the forests, which Stanley with his present party would not have dared to face, as the Egyptians seemed to have very vague notions about the journey. Besides, there was the question of food, which would prevent a company of 1500 people from attempting a passage through a district where caravans of only 200 or 300 had sometimes narrowly escaped perishing with hunger. Nevertheless, though much has been said to the contrary, Stanley never regretted that he went to Emin’s relief by way of the Aruwimi, instead of from Zanzibar through the Masai country. This may be seen from the following extract from a letter that he wrote to Sir William Mackinnon:--

“By-the-bye, Emin Pasha said it was very lucky I did not approach him from the east by way of the Masai and Ukedo, or Langgo as he calls it. The Langgo land is a great waterless desert for the most part. Even if we had been able to pierce through the Wakedi, it is doubtful if the want of food and water had not annihilated the expedition.... Now that we know the Ituri so well, I feel convinced that we could not have chosen a better route.”

All the district extending southwards to the Muta Nzigé has recently fallen under the sovereignty of Kabrega, the rapacious potentate of Unyoro, who has made a bold push in this direction, his bands of marauders keeping the entire neighbourhood in a state of agitation.

In making his advance, Stanley did not escape the necessity of using powder and shot. First, the warlike Warasura, the name given to the Wanyoro in that district, congregated near the village of Buhobo, and endeavoured to waylay the caravan. They were routed, and fled in all directions.

Then two days later, whilst crossing the Semliki, the war-cry was heard again, and a well-directed volley of arrows was discharged upon their rear. Guns were again brought into use, and the natives were chased for some distance. Henceforward the course was clear.

Stanley was now on the threshold of a land of wonders. The valley of the Semliki lay outstretched before him, extending to the south-west far as the eye could reach. In its midst, bending now to the north-east, now to the north-west, 80 to 100 yards wide, and averaging 9 feet in depth, flowed the river, its rapid current bearing the ample volume of its waters towards the Albert Nyanza. On either hand were fertile plains, dotted over with villages, groves of bananas and acacias, well cultivated fields, and splendid pastures. These are bounded east and west by ridges of hills rising from 300 to 900 feet above the level of the valley, and crowned by vast plateaus that slope gradually eastwards to the Congo, and on the north-west join the table-land of Unyoro.

In the central portion of this latter region the hills rise ridge upon ridge, and there is one great mountain chain that culminates in a snow-clad peak, probably 17,000 feet in height, the Ruwenzori, known by the natives as the “Cloud-King.”

Ancient writers were well aware that beyond the sands of the desert lay a system of inland lakes connected by streams that together formed the Nile; behind these lakes, they averred, was a chain of mighty mountains, to which they gave the name of “Mountains of the Moon.” The earliest explorers of Eastern Africa imagined that in Mounts Kenia and Kilima-Njaro, those other snow-peaks of the equatorial regions, they had discovered these mountains of the moon; but Captain Speke, with the marvellous clairvoyance of which he gave so many proofs during his short career, marked them on his map as lying between Lake Albert and Lake Tanganyika. Utilising with a rare sagacity the information that he picked up from the natives along his route, he came to the conclusion that away to the north-west was a lake--Muta Nzigé--and that this lake was bounded by a lofty mountain range that could be no other than the ancient Mountains of the Moon.

Twenty years ago this hypothesis was the cause of much scientific discussion. Speke’s assertions were violently attacked, especially by Captain Burton, his fellow traveller. Then the matter was forgotten.

But direct observation has proved that Speke was right. Stanley has now brought the Mountains of the Moon within the range of positive knowledge, and that in the very locality which Speke had indicated, thus rendering a striking tribute to the geographical genius of his illustrious predecessor.

To Europeans the mysteries of this ancient range have always been the subject of much curiosity, and almost all the officers of the expedition had a keen desire to distinguish themselves as climbers of these African Alps. Lieutenant Stairs succeeded in attaining the greatest altitude, but had the mortification to find two deep gulfs between him and the snowy mount proper.

Early on the morning of June 6th, accompanied by some forty Zanzibaris, he left the camp, and commenced the ascent of the mountain. For the first 300 yards the climbing was fairly good, the path being through long rank grass. At 8.30 the thermometer registered 75° F. The aspect of the country here became different, and on all sides there could be seen dracænas, and here and there an occasional tree-fern and Mwab palm.

At 10.30, after some sharp climbing, the mountaineers reached the last settlement of the natives. The thermometer then read 84° F. Beyond the settlement the way led through a forest of bamboos, which became denser as they ascended. They now noticed a complete and sudden change in the air; it became much cooler and more pure and refreshing, and in another two hours the thermometer had fallen to 70°. It was now past midday. Right ahead of them, rising in one even slope for 1200 feet, stood a peak, which they now started to climb. The ascent was most difficult, as in some places it was covered with arborescent bushwood some 20 feet high, and in others with a thick spongy carpet of wet slippery moss, studded with blue violets and lichens.

Shortly after 4 P.M. they halted to encamp for the night at an altitude of 8500 feet. On turning in, the thermometer registered only 60°, and the Zanzibaris, who were lightly-clad, felt the cold very much.

The ascent was continued on the following day, and persevered in until 10 A.M., when Lieutenant Stairs found his progress stopped by an immense ravine, at the bottom of which there was dense bush. Here he had his first glimpse of a snow-peak about 2½ miles away, and he estimated that it would take at least a day and a half to reach the snow-line. Unprovided as he was with food and warm clothing for his men, he thought it better to return, hoping that at some future time a more favourable opportunity for making the ascent would present itself. The altitude reached by the party was 10,677 feet above the level of the sea.

By about 3 P.M. Stairs and his men had rejoined the expedition. His excursion had convinced him that the Ruwenzori range is of volcanic origin, the extreme top of the peak having a distinct crater-like form.

A march of nineteen days brought the caravan to the south-west angle of the range. On June 26th it left the Awamba, as that part of the Semliki valley is called, and entered the plains of Usongora. These at present are almost a desert, but there are traces of the recent existence of a large population, which has been driven off by the raids of the Warasura. The free-booting tribe here showed some signs of hostility. But no fighting was necessary; the report that the caravan was invincible had already preceded it, and on its appearance the Warasura were seized with a panic and fled.

On July 1st the caravan made its entry into the important town of Kative, well known for its salt-pit, which supplies not only Usongora, but also Toro, Ankori, Mpororo, Ruanda, Ukonju, and many other districts with salt.

Near Kative, Stanley found a definite solution to the problem of the sources of the Nile. The Semliki, of which he had just ascended the right bank, is none other than the channel which carries into Lake Albert the overflow of another lake, known upon the maps as Muta Nzigé, and of which he had a distant view in 1876. He now named it the Albert Edward Nyanza, in honour of the “first British Prince who has shown a decided interest in African geography.”

Compared with the Victoria, the Tanganyika, and the Nyassa, this upper lake of the western Nile-system is small, though its length cannot be less than 50 miles. It is about 3000 feet above the sea-level, that is, 1000 feet higher than Lake Albert. Between the two lakes, the Semliki forms a series of falls and rapids.

Henceforward, thanks to Stanley, the upper Nile-system is clearly defined. The Muta Nzigé is the reservoir of all the waters from the west that by way of the Semliki fall into the Albert Nyanza, just as the Victoria Nyanza is the reservoir for all the waters from the east that by way of the Somerset also fall into Lake Albert.

And thus is verified the assertion of the Greek geographers--that the Nile has its sources in two inland seas. The Muta Nzigé is the _palus occidentalis_, the Victoria Nyanza is the _palus orientalis_. The outpour of the lakes, the two streams of the Semliki and the Somerset, commingle their waters in a third reservoir, the Albert Nyanza, and re-issue conjointly under the name of the Bahr-el-Jebel, which lower down is known as the Bahr-el-Abiad, or White Nile.

Speke, in 1859 and 1861, introduced an important factor into the solution of the problem by the discovery of Lake Victoria; Baker, in 1863, by that of Lake Albert; and Stanley has completed the work in 1889 by verifying the Semliki as the connection between Lake Albert and Muta Nzigé.

Rounding the north end of Lake Albert Edward, the caravan passed through Usongora, Toro, Uhaiyama, and Unyampaka. Stanley had visited the latter in 1876, and Ringi, the king, who was at war with Unyoro, now received him with much hospitality. The natives of this district were all friendly, as the reports of its good deeds in relieving the country of the presence of the obnoxious Warasura had preceded the caravan. It was the first really kind welcome it had had since leaving Kavalli.

Stanley speaks in high terms of the comeliness of the various tribes in this mountain district. He describes the natives of Usongora as a fine race, but in no way differing from the finer types of men seen in Karangwé and Ankori, and the Wahuma shepherds of Uganda. The Toro natives also are a mixture of the higher class of negroes, and the majority of the Wahuma can boast of features quite as regular, fine, and delicate as Europeans.

A few days later the column left the shores of the Lake, and turning south-eastwards, came on to the high table-land of Ankori. They were now about 600 miles from Kavalli; more than 1000 had still to be travelled before they would reach Zanzibar.

Their trials were not yet at an end; fresh difficulties had still to be overcome.