We were comfortable that night, as we had beds to lie upon; but I felt sure it would be for the last time, as it would be necessary to destroy much luggage, the men being too heavily laden.
All was at length still; the soldiers, who were tired, went to sleep, with the exception of the sentries, who were well on the alert.
As I lay on my bed, I thought of the morrow. I knew we should have a trying time, as the whole country would now be thoroughly organized against us. Our start from Masindi had taken them by surprise—thus we had not met with much resistance; but to-morrow would be a fighting day, and I made up my mind to leave the cattle to themselves, as it would be simply impossible to drive them.
The night passed without an attack.
On the following morning, 15th June, poor Howarti was evidently about to die, but the plucky fellow faintly said that he could ride a donkey if assisted. It was impossible to carry him as the path was too narrow for four people to walk beneath a stretcher. He was placed upon a donkey, and supported with difficulty by a man at his side.
I was obliged to pile upon the fire a number of things that we could not carry, including the large oaken stand of the astronomical telescope.
It was 7.30 A.M. before we started.
The troublesome cattle at once began to stray, and I immediately ordered them to be abandoned. I felt certain that in the event of a general attack they would have created great confusion, by probably rushing down the line and overturning the men.
It was the greatest relief to be rid of the animals: thus we marched on merrily at about two and a half miles an hour, through the usual narrow path amidst gigantic grass (now about nine feet high) and thick forest.
In about an hour and a half we arrived at a descent, towards a bottom in which there was a broad, open swamp, with a stream running through the centre.