In Darkest Africa, Vol. 1; or, The Quest, Rescue, and Retreat of Emin, Governor of Equatoria

by Henry M. Stanley

To remind them that

"The path of duty is the way to glory."

What! count your hundreds of loads! What are they? Look, it is simply this: 200 carriers are here to-day. There are 500 loads. Hence to the next village is ten miles. In six days your 200 men have 1888.
Aug.
Banalya. carried the 500 loads ten miles. In four months you are inland about 150 miles. In eight months you are 300 miles nearer to the Nyanza, and long before that time you have lightened your labours by conveying most of your burdens in canoes; you will have heard all about that advance column as early as October, the second month of work; for powder and guns, you may get Ugarrowwa's flotilla to help you, and by the time the advance column starts from Fort Bodo to hunt you up, you will be safe in Ugarrowwa's settlement, and long before that you will have met the couriers with charts of the route with exact information of what lies before you, where food is to be obtained, and every one of you will be healthier and happier, and you will have the satisfaction of having performed even a greater task than the advance column, and obtained the "kudos" which you desired. The bigger the work the greater the joy in doing it. That whole-hearted striving and wrestling with Difficulty; the laying hold with firm grip and level head and calm resolution of the monster, and tugging, and toiling, and wrestling at it, to-day, to-morrow, and the next until it is done; it is the soldier's creed of forward, ever forward—it is the man's faith that for this task was he born. Don't think of the morrow's task, but what you have to do to-day, and go at it. When it is over, rest tranquilly, and sleep well.

But I was unable to be present; I could only rely on their promise that they would limit their faith in Tippu-Tib until the concentration of all officers and men attached to the rear column, and insist that the blazing on the trees, the broad arrow-heads pointing the way, should be well made for their clear guidance through the almost endless woods, from one side of the forest to its farthest edge. Yet curiously hungering to know why Barttelot, who was "spoiling for work," and Jameson, who was so earnest, and had paid a thousand pounds for the privilege of being with us, and Ward, who I thought was to be the future Clive of Africa, and Troup, so noted for his industry, and Bonny, so steady 1888.
Aug.
Banalya. and so obedient, so unconsciously acted as to utterly prevent them from doing what I believe from my soul they wished to do as much as I or any other of us did, a conviction flashes upon my mind that there has been a supernatural malignant influence or agency at work to thwart every honest intention.

A few instances will tend to strengthen this conviction. I freely and heartily admit that the five officers burned to leave Yambuya, and to assist in prosecuting unto successful issue the unique enterprise they had sacrificed so much comfort to join. But they are utterly unable to move, try how they may. They believe I am alive, and they vow to make a strenuous quest for me, but they reduce me to nakedness. They are determined to start in quest and relief of Emin Pasha, because "to withdraw would be pusillanimous, and to stay longer would be culpable," and yet they part with the necessary ammunition that they wish to carry to him. They confess that there are thirty-three sick men unable to move at Yambuya, and yet the very stores, medicaments, and wine that might have saved them they box up and send to Bangala, after first obtaining a receipt for them. They have all signed agreements wherein each officer shall have a fair share of all European preserved provisions, perfect delicacies, and yet they decline to eat them, or allow the sick men to eat them, but despatch them out of the hungry woods to the station of Bangala. Mr. Bonny, as I understand, expressed no regret or audible dissent at their departure. From pure habit of discipline he refrained from demanding his fair share, and like a good Englishman, but mighty poor democrat, he parted with his inalienable right without a murmur. They searched for Manyuema slaves, cannibals of the Bakusu and Basongora tribes to replace their dead Zanzibaris and Soudanese, Somalis and Syrians, and it came to pass a few weeks after they had obtained these cannibals that one of their head men assassinates the English commander. Also on a fatal date, fatal because that resolution to wait sealed their fate, an officer of the advance column 1888.
Aug.
Banalya. was straying through an impenetrable bush with 300 despairing men behind him, and on this fatal date the next year, Mr. Bonny, the sole survivor of the English band, pours into my ears a terrible tale of death and disaster, while at the same hour poor Jameson breathes his last, tired and worn out with his futile struggles to "move on" at Bangala, 500 miles west of me; and 600 miles east of me, the next day, Emin Pasha and Mr. Jephson walk into the arms of the rebel soldiery of Equatoria.

This is all very uncanny if you think of it. There is a supernatural diablerie operating which surpasses the conception and attainment of a mortal man.

In addition to all these mischiefs a vast crop of lying is germinated in these darksome shades in the vicinity of Stanley Falls, or along the course of the Upper Congo, showing a measureless cunning, and an insatiable love of horror. My own murder appears to be a favourite theme, quantities of human bones are said to be discovered by some reconnoitering party, human limbs are said to be found in cooking-pots, sketches by an amateur artist are reported to have been made of whole families indulging in cannibal repasts; it is more than hinted that Englishmen are implicated in raids, murder, and cannibalism, that they have been making targets of native fugitives while swimming in the Aruwimi, all for the mere sake of infusing terror, alarm, and grief among quiet English people, and to plague our friends at home.

The instruments this dark power elects for the dissemination of these calumnious fables are as various in their professions as in their nationality. It is a deserter one day, and the next it is an engineer of a steamer; it is now a slave-trader, or a slave; it is a guileless missionary in search of work, or a dismissed Syrian; it is a young artist with morbid tastes, or it is an officer of the Congo Free State. Each in his turn becomes possessed with an insane desire to say or write something which overwhelms common sense, and exceeds ordinary belief.

1888.
Aug.
Banalya. From the official written narrative of Mr. William Bonny I glean the following, and array the facts in clear order.

The Stanley steamer has departed from Yambuya early in the morning of August 17th, 1887. The goods she has brought up are stored within the magazine, and as near as I can gather there are 266 men within the entrenched camp. As they are said to have met to deliberate upon their future steps we may assume that the letter of instructions was read, and that they did not understand them. They think the wisest plan would be to await Tippu-Tib, who, it will be remembered, had promised to Major Barttelot that he would be after him within nine days.