The cause of the fire, when subsequently discovered, did not give me the least surprise. One of Ghattas’s soldiers had been quarrelling with his slave, having accused her of unfaithfulness; and in order to frighten her, and extort a confession of her guilt, he had discharged a gun into the interior of his hut. I afterwards remembered hearing the report; as gunshots, however, were far from uncommon, I paid no particular attention to the circumstance: but the smouldering paper-cartridge had lodged in the straw-roof, and ten minutes later the hut was in flames. Although the origin of the fire was thus easily explained, the Mohammedan fatalists never swerved from their belief that the misfortune was unavoidable, and was ordained by the decree of destiny.
All my reproaches failed to reach the real offender, who immediately after the fire quitted the scene of the disaster he had brought about. But, in my opinion, Idrees, the controller, was himself primarily responsible for all the trouble. He allowed a senseless firing to be carried on inside the Seriba, not only at every new moon, but on a hundred other occasions, and I was in a perpetual state of vexation and anger whenever I saw the lighted wads flying about amongst the dry straw-roofs: then, again, he allowed each person to increase the number of his huts, rokoobas, and hedges, just as he liked, until the appearance of the Seriba was that of an inexplicable maze. In his capacity of Vokeel it was undoubtedly his place to allot a proper space to each individual; but so far from seeing that this was legitimately done, he himself did his utmost to increase the complication of buildings, and had erected a huge rokooba for his horse just in front of my hut; it was this very rokooba that had been the means of communicating the flames to the chests containing my manuscripts, as they stood on a portion of what, previously to its erection, had been a wide open space.
By the 11th of December some newly-built huts were at my disposal, a place of security on that day proving doubly welcome, as a heavy storm of rain came on about four o’clock in the morning, lasting for quite half an hour. This exceptional storm rose from the south-east, veered round to the south, and finally passed away towards the south-west. The entire day remained cold and dull, with slight showers falling at intervals. For the first time the temperature fell to 65° Fahr., having previously varied between 75° and 80°. The coldest season of the year now set in, and lasted for a couple of months; during this time the thermometer in the early morning was comparatively low, and the barometer varied much more continually than in the height of the rainy season.
Bad news flies apace, and following close upon the destruction of the Seriba came the intelligence of the total defeat of that first detachment of the Niam-niam expedition that had been despatched to the south; besides a number of native bearers, 150 Mohammedans were reported to have lost their lives.
The immediate effect of these disastrous tidings was to make me know that all hope of extending my wanderings in that direction must finally be abandoned. Bitter as had been the misfortune that had befallen me, it would not of itself have deterred me from my project of a second Niam-niam journey, but, now that Aboo Guroon was killed, there was no one who could provide me afresh with such articles as I had lost. I possessed neither boots nor shoes, guns nor ammunition, paper nor instruments, and even my watches, which were so essential to me, were gone; what use then to think any further of a journey to unknown countries under such circumstances as these? Convinced of the vanity of any attempt to proceed, I was therefore obliged, with a heavy heart, to turn my thoughts towards Europe; no succours could reach me for more than a year, and even then my great distance from Egypt made their safe arrival more than doubtful.
Still more than six months remained before the trading-boats would start on their return journey down the Nile; I felt bound to employ this time to the best of my powers, and I was not long left to make up my mind as to what I would do. Amongst the few of my effects that were snatched from the flames I discovered ink, together with materials for writing and drawing: and the sight of some sketches that had accidentally been rescued with my bedding first roused me from my feelings of total despair, and told me that I must once again begin to collect and investigate, and preserve my observations by means of pen and pencil. Necessarily somewhat depressed in spirits I once again turned to as many of my former pursuits as I could, although I felt the increasing pressure of poverty and hardship, and was as dependent as a beggar upon the hospitality of the Nubians, many of whom viewed my presence in the country with suspicion and distrust. My present discomfort was still further aggravated by its contrast with the comparative ease and abundance which the arrival of my European stores had latterly afforded me.
FAREWELL TO THE SERIBA.
I came to the resolution of quitting the scene of my disaster, and, accompanied by my servants, determined to withdraw to Kurshook Ali’s[58] Seriba beyond the Dyoor, where I knew that Khalil, the kind-hearted controller, would render me what relief he could under my present urgent necessities, although the amenities of life to which the Nubians had any pretension were very few. Accordingly on the 16th of December, followed by a small herd of cows, I turned my back upon the Seriba that had arisen from the ashes of its predecessor, and started by a new and more southerly route for my intended quarters.
For nearly three years my watches had gone with remarkable accuracy, they were ordinary Geneva ancres perfectionnées, having cost about twenty-five thalers a-piece; their loss was quite irreparable, for the Nubians have no other means of computing time than upon the great dial of the firmament,[59] which requires no winding up, and they tell the hour of the day by simply observing the position of the sun in the heavens. The only resource left to me for estimating the distance that I travelled was to count my steps, and in my despondency over my losses I found a kind of melancholy satisfaction in the performance of this monotonous task, which probably had never fallen before to the lot of any other African traveller. My patience, however, was, as it were, an anchor of safety that I threw out after my calamity: I seemed to myself like a ship, which, though seaworthy in itself, has thrown overboard its cargo as the only hope of getting into port. An enthusiast I set out, enraptured with nature in her wildest aspect, and an enthusiast should I have remained, had not the fire clipped my wings; but now, helpless on the inhospitable soil of Africa, I could not but be conscious how powerless I was to contend with the many obstacles, both physical and material, that beset my path; but in the place of enthusiasm, patience, that overcomes all misfortune, came to my aid, did me good service, and kept me from sinking.
A PERAMBULATOR.