At the evening's council we resolved to adopt the only sensible course left us—that is, to return to Ibwiri, 1887.
Dec. 15.
Albert
Nyanza. eighteen days' journey from here, and there build a strong stockade, then to send a strong party to Ipoto to bring up the boat, goods, officers, and convalescents to our stockade, and after leaving fifty rifles there under three or four officers, hurry on to Ugarrowwa's settlement, and send the convalescents from there back to Ibwiri, and afterwards continue our journey in search of the Major and the rear column before he and it was a wreck, or marched into that wilderness whence we so narrowly escaped, and then, all united again, march on to this place with the boat, and finish the mission thoroughly, with no anxieties in the rear bewildering or enfeebling us.
The following day, December 16th, a severe rainstorm detained us in camp until 9 A.M. The low hard plain absorbed the water but slowly, and for the first hour we tramped through water up to the knee in some places. We then emerged on a gently rolling plain, where the grass was but three inches high, with clumps of bush and low trees a few score of yards apart, making the whole scene resemble an ornamental park. Arriving at the path connecting the landing-place of Kasenya with the mountain pass by which we descended, we crossed it, keeping parallel to the lake shore, and about a mile and a half from it. Presently herds of game appeared, and, as our people were exceedingly short of provisions, we prepared to do our best to obtain a supply of meat. After some trouble a male kudu fell to my share, and Saat Tato, the hunter, dropped a hartebeest. Two miles beyond the landing-place of Kasenya we halted.
Our object in halting here was to blind the natives of Katonza's, who, we felt sure, would follow us to see if we had moved on, for naturally, having behaved so unruly to us, they might well entertain fears, or at least anxiety, respecting us. At night we proposed to retrace our steps, and follow the road to the foot of the mountain pass, and before dawn commence the steep and stony ascent, and be at the summit before the natives of the table-land above would be astir—as a struggle 1887.
Dec. 16.
Albert
Nyanza. with such determined people, heavily loaded as we were, was to be avoided if possible.
About 3 P.M., as we were occupied in dividing the game among the hungry people, some native yells were heard, and half a dozen arrows fell into the halting-place. Nothing can give a better idea of the blind stupidity or utter recklessness of these savages than this instance of half a score of them assaulting a well-appointed company of 170 men in the wilderness, any two of whom were more than a match for them in a fight. Of course, having delivered their yells and shot their arrows, they turned sharply about and fled. Probably they knew they could rely upon their speed, for they left our pursuing men far out of sight in an incredibly short time. The ten savages who thus visited us were the same who had affected such solicitude as to come to ascertain if we had lost the road yesterday.
In my rambles after meat during the day, far down the shore of the Lake from the halting-place, I came to vast heaps of bones of slaughtered game. They seem to have been of many kinds, from the elephant and hippopotamus down to the small bush-bok. It is probable that they had been surrounded by natives of the district who, with the assistance of fire, had slaughtered them in heaps within a circle of not more than 300 yards in diameter.
Saat Tato the hunter, after wounding a buffalo, was deterred from following it by the appearance of a full-grown lion, who took up the chase.
The shore of the Lake as it trends North Easterly, increases greatly in beauty. Over a score of admirable camping-places were seen by me close by the edge of the Lake, with slopes of white firm sand, over much of which the waves rolled ceaselessly. Behind was a background of green groves isleted amid greenest sward, and game of great variety abounding near by; while a view of singular magnificence and beauty greeted the eye in every direction.
At 5.30 P.M. we gathered together, and silently got into order of march for the base of the mountain. We 1887.
Dec. 16.
Albert
Nyanza. had three sick people with us, two of them had not yet recovered from the effects of our miserable days in the great forest, another suffered from a high fever incurred in last night's rain-storm.
At 9 P.M. we stumbled upon a village, which confused us somewhat, but the huge mountain, rising like a dark cloud above us, prevented us from retracing our steps, which without it we might well have done, as it was extremely dark. In dead silence we passed through the sleeping village, and followed a path out of it, which, degenerating into a mere trail, was soon lost. For another hour we bore on, keeping our eyes steadily fixed on the darker shadow that rose to the starry sky above us, until at last wearied nature, betrayed by the petulance of the advance guard, demanded a halt and rest. We threw ourselves down on the grass even where we halted, and were soon in deepest slumber, indifferent to all troubles.
At dawn we rose from a deep sleep, drenched with dew and but little refreshed, and gazing up at the immense wall of the table-land that rose in four grand terraces of about 600 feet each, we discovered that we were yet about two miles from the foot of the pass. We therefore pressed forward, and shortly reached the base of the ascent. By aneroids we were 150 feet above the level of the Lake, which was 2400 feet above the sea, and we were 2500 feet below the summit of the saddle, or sunken ridge between the Northern and Southern ranges whose Eastern ends frowned above us.