It was, of course, a trying task for Mr. and Mrs. Baker to be on friendly terms with a slave-trader, and they both felt it to be so, but it was productive of good. The slave-trader informed Baker that his (Baker's) men intended to mutiny and kill him and his wife. Baker was on his guard, and nipped the mutiny in the bud.
After many hardships and perils borne uncomplainingly by Mrs. Baker, they reached the territory of the King of Unyoro, where his majesty's brother, M'gambi, was continually asking for presents. Having received a great number from Baker, M'gambi went on to demand that Mrs. Baker might be given to him. 'Drawing my revolver quietly, I held it within two feet of his chest,' Baker writes, 'and looking at him with undisguised contempt, I told him that if I touched the trigger, not all the men could save him: and that it he dared to repeat the insult I would shoot him on the spot. At the same time, I explained to him that in my country such insolence would entail bloodshed; and I looked upon him as an ignorant ox who knew no better; and that this excuse alone could save him. My wife, naturally indignant, had risen from her seat, and maddened with the excitement of the moment, she made a little speech in Arabic (not a word of which he understood) with a countenance almost as amiable as the head of Medusa. Altogether the mise-en-scène utterly astonished him. The woman, Bacheta, although savage, had appropriated the insult to her mistress, and she also fearlessly let fly at him, translating as nearly as she could the complimentary address that "Medusa" had just delivered.
Whether this little coup de théâtre had so impressed M'gambi with British female independence, that he wished to be "off his bargain," I cannot say; but, with an air of complete astonishment, he said; "Don't be angry! I had no intention of offending you by asking for your wife; I will give you a wife if you want one; and I thought you had no objection to give me yours: it is my custom to give my visitors pretty wives, and I thought you might exchange. Don't make a fuss about it; if you don't like it, there's an end of it: I will never mention it again." This very practical apology I received very sternly.'
After this interview with M'gambi, the Bakers resumed their journey, escorted by 300 local men, whose services Baker soon discovered it would be advisable to dispense with. He was now left with only twelve men, and it was doubtful whether he would be able to reach his destination and get back to Gondokoro in time to catch the last boat to Khartoum that season. If he failed to do so, it meant another year in Central Africa, and he did not wish his wife to endure that. But Mrs. Baker was interested deeply in her husband's work, and urged him not to consider her health before accomplishing his task.
A few days later she received a sun-stroke, and for several days lay in a litter in an unconscious state. Brain fever followed, and no one believed that she could possibly recover. A halt was made, and the men put a new handle to the pick-axe ready to dig a grave, the site of which had been selected. But the preparations were premature. Mrs. Baker recovered consciousness, and two days later the weary march was resumed, to be crowned on March 14, 1864, with success, for on that day they saw before them the tremendous sheet of water now well known by the name the discoverer gave it, there and then,—the Albert Nyanza.
We can imagine Mrs. Baker's joy on finding that their expedition had been crowned with success, and that the perils and hardships which she had shared uncomplainingly with her husband had not been endured in vain. It would perhaps have only been natural if she had now urged her husband to return to civilisation as quickly as possible, but she did not do so.
For thirteen days they explored in canoes the eastern shore of the newly-discovered lake, coming at last to the mouth of Somerset or Victoria Nile. Ascending the river they discovered a series of cataracts, ending in a magnificent fall. These Baker named Murchison Falls, as a compliment to the President of the Royal Geographical Society. Continuing the journey on foot, they came to a deserted village, where they were compelled to remain for two months through the treachery of the King of Unyoro. This dusky potentate had promised Baker every assistance that he could give, but having decided to make an attack on two neighbouring tribes he asked the Englishman to accompany his force and fight for him. This Baker refused to do, and, in revenge, the king sent secret orders to Baker's followers to desert him, and leave him and his wife to starve. In a desolate spot, unable to obtain provisions, Mr. and Mrs. Baker existed for two months, growing weaker daily from fever and want of proper food. However, after many attempts, Baker managed to obtain an interview with the king, and persuaded him to treat them humanely. The king would not, however, allow them to quit his territory, and it was not until November, 1864, that they succeeded in escaping.
After many adventures they arrived at Khartoum on May 3, 1865, where their arrival created great surprise among the Europeans, who had long since been convinced that they were dead.
On reaching England in October, 1865, the Bakers were given an enthusiastic reception. Various learned societies at home and abroad bestowed their highest honours upon Baker, and Queen Victoria conferred a knighthood upon him.
Mrs. Baker's bravery in accompanying her husband through so many dangers was naturally praised by all classes, and it was felt by many people that some honour should be conferred upon her. In Messrs. Murray and White's Sir Samuel Baker: a Memoir (Macmillan), it is stated that Mr. W. E. Gladstone proposed that a subscription should be started for presenting a suitable testimonial to her. This was, however, prior to her becoming Lady Baker, and perhaps it was considered that having received an honour the testimonial was unnecessary. At any rate Mr. Gladstone's suggestion was not carried out.