This caused him to blink his eyes and smack his lips, and the old rain-maker grinned a ghastly smile of admiration. His wood ash-smeared features relaxed into an expression that denoted "more wine." I thought he had enough, and there was none to spare; therefore, having opened his heart, I began to ask him questions.
That unfailing key, liquor, had established a confidential flow of conversation. The old fellow explained that he knew the entire country, and he had no objection to accompany us to Lobore for a small consideration in the shape of a cow. He assured me that if he were with us, the natives would be civil throughout the journey. Bedden had behaved very badly, but he had got the worst of it, and the news had spread up the country.
I asked him whether he would keep the rain away during the journey, as it would be very unpleasant should the soldiers' kits get wet. He immediately blew his rain-whistle that was suspended to his neck, and looked at me as though I could no longer doubt his capability. I then sent for a German horn from my cabin. This was a polished cow's horn, fitted with brass, which I think had cost a shilling. I begged the old rain-maker's acceptance of this instrument, which might be perhaps superior to his whistle.
The wine had now so far warmed his old blood, that the ancient sorcerer was just in that state of good-will with all mankind which made him doubly grateful for so interesting a present. He blew the horn!—again, and again! He grinned till the tears ran down his eyes, and at once suspended the glittering toy around his neck. He now said, "I am a great sheik; there is no rain-maker so great as I; you will travel with me, and this horn shall keep you dry. Don't trouble yourself about the Baris, they won't molest you; but start as soon as you can."
We had thus gained a valuable ally and guide. Although I knew the direction of Lobore, I should have been obliged to travel by compass, therefore I was overjoyed that we had obtained so experienced an old fellow as the rain-maker. His name was Lokko.
At 3 p.m., on 8th February, we started, old Lokko leading the way, and waving a couple of thin, peeled sticks at a refractory black cloud that appeared determined to defy his rain-ruling powers. A few loud blasts upon the new horn, and a good deal of pantomime and gesticulation on the part of old Lokko, at length had the desired effect; the cloud went off about its business, and Lokko, having given his face an extra rub of fresh wood-ashes before starting, looked ugly enough to frighten any rain-devil out of his wits.
My people were heavily laden. At the commencement of the journey, an ox that Monsoor had been training, kicked off its load, and went off at full gallop like a wild animal, and we never saw it again. Poor Monsoor now shouldered the load that the ox had left helpless, and marched thus heavily laden up the hill.
My wife rode "Greedy Grey," which carried as much as could be hung upon the saddle. I rode the powerful chestnut "Jamoos." Lieutenant Baker mounted a very handsome light chestnut "Gazelle," and Colonel Abd-el-Kader rode the Zafteer. The latter was a fine old Arab that I had purchased of a zafteer (mounted police) in Cairo. I had ten donkeys which carried officers' effects, spare ammunition, flour, &c. The twenty-two boatmen carried boxes.
My wife and I, with Lieutenant Baker and an advanced guard of five of
"The Forty," followed old Lokko, who led the way; and Colonel
Abd-el-Kader and Captain Mohammed Deii were with the rear-guard, which
drove 1,000 cows and 500 sheep. The cattle were in the charge of the
Bari interpreter, Morgian.
Our boys and girls all carried loads. Amarn looked like a small Robinson Crusoe, with a tanned sheepskin bag of clothes upon his back, upon which was slung the coffee-pot, an umbrella, and various smaller articles, while he assisted himself with a long staff in his hand. Little Cuckoo, who, although hardly seven years old, was as strong as a little pony, strode along behind my horse, carrying upon his head my small travelling bag.