Gordon left Khartoum on March 23, 1874, for Gondokoro, and on the 26th he writes: "Last night we were going along slowly in the moonlight, and I was thinking of you all, and the expedition, and Nubar, &c., when all of a sudden from a large bush came peals of laughter. I felt put out; but it turned out to be birds, who laughed at us from the bushes for some time in a rude way. They are a species of stork, and seemed in capital spirits, and highly amused at anybody thinking of going up to Gondokoro with the hope of doing anything." Gordon was full of hope, and very sanguine of success; but from the day when he reached Cairo, croakers all along the route had been whispering in his ear the hopelessness of his mission, and how utterly impossible it was to reform anything connected with such a corrupt administration as that of Egypt. Fortunately, though he used at times to have terrible fits of depression, he possessed a great deal of dogged perseverance. It was this that in China had enabled him to overcome all obstacles in fighting the enemy, and the same indomitable spirit now made him persevere and hope on, when every one else despaired. Not only were there real foes in every direction, determined if possible to frustrate his mission, but in addition there was physical suffering to endure from climatic and other causes. "No one can conceive," says he in a letter written on April 10th, "the utter misery of these lands, heat and mosquitoes day and night all the year round. But I like the work, for I believe that I can do a great deal to ameliorate the lot of the people." Two days after this he passed through a place called St. Croix, which had been a Roman Catholic mission station, but so unhealthy was it that it had at last been abandoned. After thirteen years of work not a single convert had been made, although during that period the missionaries had plodded on in the face of discouragement, and in spite of the appalling havoc that death and sickness had made in their ranks. Out of twenty missionaries thirteen had died of fever, two of dysentery, and two had been invalided. A few banana trees were all that remained of the settlement at which these heroes had been sacrificed.
Gordon reached Gondokoro on April 16th, just twenty-four days after leaving Khartoum. Everybody was much surprised to see him, for it was not even known that he had been appointed. He remained only six days, and then started back to Khartoum, in order to get his baggage. Not finding it there, he went on to Berber to hurry up the escort, but not till he had given the corrupt Governor of Khartoum a bit of his mind. "I have had some sharp skirmishing with the Governor-General of Khartoum," said he in a letter home, "and I think I have crushed him. Your brother wrote to him and told him he told stories. It was undiplomatic of me, but it did the Governor-General good." Having secured his baggage, he returned to Gondokoro. En route he writes from the entrance of the Sanbat River:—
"We arrived here from Khartoum a week ago, and I have made a nice station here, and made great friends with the Shillock natives, who come over in great numbers from the other side of the river. They are poorly off, and I have given them some grain; very little contents them. I have employed a few of them to plant maize, and they do it very fairly. The reason they do not do it for themselves is, that if they plant any quantity they would run the chance of losing it, by its being taken by force from them; so they plant only enough to keep body and soul together, and even that is sown in small out-of-the-way patches."
He reached Gondokoro the second time on September 4th, receiving the salaams and salutes of the officers, men, and functionaries, together with the submission of all the neighbouring chiefs. In the whole of his province Egypt had only two forts, one at Gondokoro, the capital, with 300 men, and one at Fatiko, further south, with 200 men. "As for paying taxes," said he, "or any government existing outside the forts, it is all nonsense. You cannot go out in any safety half-a-mile, all because they have been fighting the poor natives and taking their cattle. I apprehend not the least difficulty in the work; the greatest will be to gain the people's confidence again. They have been hardly treated."
The chief culprit, to whom much of this misgovernment was due, was Raouf Bey, whom Gordon found at Gondokoro. This man had been in office for six years, and proved a miserable failure. "Raouf had never conciliated the tribes, never had planted dhoora; and, in fact, only possessed the land he camped upon." Yet he made it a grievance that Gordon refused to employ him, and the present Khedive of Egypt many years afterwards made him Governor-General of the Soudan when Gordon resigned.
What most astonished Gordon was the apparent want of affection on the part of the natives for their offspring, and it pained him none the less when he reflected that this was entirely due to the slave trade, and the sufferings the poor people had endured. One man brought Gordon two of his children of 12 and 9 years old, because they were starving, and sold them for a basketful of grain, and though the father often came to the station after this, he never asked to see them. Gordon mentioned another case, of a family in which there were two children. Passing their hut one day, and seeing only one child, he asked the mother where the other was. "Oh," said she, "it has been given to the man from whom the cow was stolen"—her husband having been the culprit. This was said with a cheerful smile. "But," said Gordon, "are you not sorry?" "Oh, no! we would rather have the cow." "But you have eaten the cow, and the pleasure is over." "Oh, but all the same, we would sooner have had the cow!" Gordon adds, "The other child of twelve years old, like her parents did not care a bit. A lamb taken from the flock will bleat, while here you see not the very slightest vestige of feeling." Such an incident shows how the human heart can, under certain circumstances, degenerate to being "without natural affection." It is not the people who are to blame, but their cruel conquerors. Not many miles away from this place, in a district which the tyranny of slavery has not yet reached, Dr. Schweinfurth says of the natives: "Notwithstanding that certain instances may be alleged which seem to demonstrate that the character of the Dinka is unfeeling, these cases never refer to such as are bound by the ties of kindred. Parents do not desert their children, nor are brothers faithless to brothers, but are ever prompt to render whatever aid is possible." The famous negro prelate, Bishop Crowther, and the celebrated traveller, Mr. Stanley, bear similar testimony. There can be no question that the African, in his normal condition, is as capable of affection as the native of any other country.
Slavery has been, is, and as long as it exists will be, the curse of Africa. "Not a soul," said Gordon, "to be seen for miles; all driven off by the slavers in years past. You could scarcely conceive such a waste or desert." Such was his comment when at the entrance of the river Sanbat, and such would have frequently been a correct description of the country blighted by this cursed traffic.
Speaking generally, slavery exists now only in Mohammedan countries (though there are a few exceptions), yet it cannot be called a Mohammedan institution. The Prophet sanctioned only the taking of slaves in war. The custom of his time was to kill and often to torture prisoners taken in war, so that really it was a step in advance to suggest that these captives should be utilised as servants. To a great extent, if not entirely, slavery as an institution is due to the low moral standard set up by the Koran. Were it not for love of sensual indulgence, slavery would long ago have died a natural death. Over and over again has it been proved that voluntary service is far cheaper than enforced labour. An Indian coolie will work all day, and ask for little more than enough to keep body and soul together. This much the slave-owners are compelled to give to keep their slaves in health. Slaves are valuable property, and it is cheaper to feed them well than badly. But over and above the food, the slave-owner has to bear the cost of transit from their bright happy homes in Central Africa, through hundreds of miles of scorching desert, which demands a frightful death-toll. Only the strongest ever reach the slave-markets, and it has been calculated that at least 500,000 lives are annually sacrificed during transit. Indirectly the slave-owner has to pay for these. When slaves were taken in war, they cost nothing to transport; but when Mohammedan conquests ceased, the supply ceased with it, for Mohammedans are not allowed by the Koran to make slaves of men of their own creed, though they do sometimes infringe this rule.
It is generally supposed that the slave trade originated in the fact that in certain parts of Central Africa there are no horses or beasts of burden, as owing to the existence of the tetse-fly no animal can live. Consequently ivory and everything else has to be carried on the heads of porters. These porters were engaged by the Arab ivory dealers in the interior, and marched in large gangs to the seaports. Having reached their destination, and given up their loads, the question of transport back to their villages would arise. The Arab traders found that it would suit their purpose best to sell the porters as slaves. Who was to know whether or not they were taken in battle? In Mohammedan countries, so long as plenty of backsheesh is forthcoming, those in authority ask few questions. Soon the sale of slaves became more profitable than the ivory trade, which possibly had originated it, and so the one was substituted for the other, the authorities not only winking at it, but encouraging it as a source of large revenues to them. At one time a large number of so-called Christians were engaged in this unholy traffic, but the scandal became so great that European public opinion would not tolerate it, and so they had to sell their stations to Mohammedan Arabs, who if possible were even more cruel and relentless in the way they conducted the trade. Merchant princes arose among them, and they carried on their business with a thoroughness and a system worthy of a better cause. Soldiers were trained, and large armies kept for no other purpose than that of collecting slaves. Peaceful villages were surrounded, night attacks were made, whole tribes were marched off to the slave markets, the road being lined by grinning skulls to show the way in which the victims suffered en route.