What casualties had happened during the passage of the gorge I cannot say, but the enemy were now utterly discomfited. I had not fired a shot, as the whole affair was perfect child's play, and any one who could shoot would have settled the fortune of the day by half a dozen shots; but both the traders' people and my men were "shooters, but not hitters." We now bivouacked on the field for the night.
During the march on the following day, the natives watched us at a distance, following in great numbers parallel with our route, but fearing to attack. The country was perfectly open, being a succession of fine downs of low grass, with few trees, where any attack against our guns would have been madness.
In the evening we arrived at two small deserted villages; these, like most in the Bari country, were circular, and surrounded by a live and impenetrable fence of euphorbia, having only one entrance. The traders' people camped in one, while I took up my quarters in the other. The sun had sunk, and the night being pitch dark, we had a glorious fire, around which we placed our angareps opposite the narrow entrance of the camp, about ten yards distant. I stationed Richarn as sentry outside the gateway, as he was the most dependable of my men, and I thought it extremely probable that we might be attacked during the night: three other sentries I placed on guard at various stations. Dinner being concluded, Mrs. Baker lay down on her angarep for the night. I drew the balls from a double No. 10 smooth bore, and loaded with cartridge containing each twenty large-mould shot (about a hundred to the pound); putting this under my pillow I went to sleep. Hardly had I begun to rest, when my men woke me, saying that the camp was surrounded by natives. Upon inquiry I found this to be correct; it was so dark that they could not be seen without stooping to the ground and looking along the surface. I ordered the sentries not to fire unless hostilities should commence on the side of the natives, and in no case to draw trigger without a challenge.
Returning to the angarep I lay down, and not wishing to sleep, I smoked my long Unyoro pipe. In about ten minutes—bang! went a shot, quickly followed by another from the sentry at the entrance of the camp. Quietly rising from my bed, I found Richarn reloading at his post. "What is it, Richarn?" I asked. "They are shooting arrows into the camp, aiming at the fire, in hopes of hitting you who are sleeping there," said Richarn. "I watched one fellow," he continued, "as I heard the twang of his bow four times. At each shot I heard an arrow strike the ground between me and you, therefore I fired at him, and I think he is down. Do you see that black object lying on the ground?" I saw something a little blacker than the surrounding darkness, but it could not be distinguished. Leaving Richarn with orders not to move from his post, but to keep a good look-out until relieved by the next watch, I again went to sleep.
Before break of day, just as the grey dawn slightly improved the darkness, I visited the sentry; he was at his post, and reported that he thought the archer of the preceding night was dead, as he had heard a sound proceeding from the dark object on the ground after I had left. In a few minutes it was sufficiently light to distinguish the body of a roan lying about thirty paces from the camp entrance. Upon examination, he proved to be a Bari: his bow was in his hand, and two or three arrows were lying by his side; thirteen mould shot had struck him dead; one had cut through the bow. We now searched the camp for arrows, and as it became light we picked up four in various places, some within a few feet of our beds, and all horribly barbed and poisoned, that the deceased had shot into the camp gateway.
This was the last attack during our journey. We marched well, generally accomplishing fifteen miles of latitude daily from this point, as the road was good and well known to our guides. The country was generally poor, but beautifully diversified with large trees, the tamarind predominating. Passing through the small but thickly-populated and friendly little province of Moir, in a few days we sighted the well-known mountain Belignan, that we had formerly passed on its eastern side when we had started on our uncertain path from Gondokoro upwards of two years ago. The mountain of Belignan was now N.E. from our point of observation.
We had a splendid view of the Ellyria Mountain, and of the distant cone, Gebel el Assul (Honey Mountain) between Ellyria and Obbo. All these curiously-shaped crags and peaks were well known to us, and we welcomed them as old friends after a long absence; they had been our companions in times of doubt and anxiety, when success in our undertaking appeared hopeless. At noon on the following day, as we were as usual marching parallel with the Nile, the river, having made a slight bend to the west, swept round, and approached within half a mile of our path; the small conical mountain, Regiaf, within twelve miles of Gondokoro, was on our left, rising from the west bank of the river. We felt almost at home again, and marching until sunset, we bivouacked within three miles of Gondokoro. That night we were full of speculations. Would a boat be waiting for us with supplies and letters? The morning anxiously looked forward to at length arrived. We started;—the English flag had been mounted on a fine straight bamboo with a new lance head specially arranged for the arrival at Gondokoro. My men felt proud, as they would march in as conquerors;—according to White Nile ideas such a journey could not have been accomplished with so small a party. Long before Ibrahim's men were ready to start, our oxen were saddled and we were off, longing to hasten into Gondokoro and to find a comfortable vessel with a few luxuries and the post from England. Never had the oxen travelled so fast as on that morning;—the flag led the way, and the men in excellent spirits followed at double quick pace. "I see the masts of the vessels!" exclaimed the boy Saat. "El hambd el Illah!" (Thank God!) shouted the men. "Hurrah!" said I—"Three cheers for Old England and the Sources of the Nile! Hurrah!" and my men joined me in the wild, and to their ears savage, English yell. "Now for a salute! Fire away all your powder, if you like, my lads, and let the people know that we're alive!" This was all that was required to complete the happiness of my people, and loading and firing as fast as possible, we approached near to Gondokoro. Presently we saw the Turkish flag emerge from Gondokoro at about a quarter of a mile distant, followed by a number of the traders' people, who waited to receive us. On our arrival, they immediately approached and fired salutes with ball cartridge, as usual advancing close to us and discharging their guns into the ground at our feet. One of my servants, Mahomet, was riding an ox, and an old friend of his in the crowd happening to recognise him, immediately advanced, and saluted him by firing his gun into the earth directly beneath the belly of the ox he was riding;—the effect produced made the crowd and ourselves explode with laughter. The nervous ox, terrified at the sudden discharge between his legs, gave a tremendous kick, and continued madly kicking and plunging, until Mahomet was pitched over his head and lay sprawling on the ground;—this scene terminated the expedition.
Dismounting from our tired oxen, our first inquiry was concerning boats and letters. What was the reply? Neither boats, letters, supplies, nor any intelligence of friends or the civilized world! We had long since been given up as dead by the inhabitants of Khartoum, and by all those who understood the difficulties and dangers of the country. We were told that some people had suggested that we might possibly have gone to Zanzibar, but the general opinion was that we had all been killed. At this cold and barren reply, I felt almost choked. We had looked forward to arriving at Gondokoro as to a home; we had expected that a boat would have been sent on the chance of finding us, as I had left money in the hands of an agent in Khartoum—but there was literally nothing to receive us, and we were helpless to return. We had worked for years in misery, such as I have but faintly described, to overcome the difficulties of this hitherto unconquerable exploration; we had succeeded—and what was the result? Not even a letter from home to welcome us if alive! As I sat beneath a tree and looked down upon the glorious Nile that flowed a few yards beneath my feet, I pondered upon the value of my toil. I had traced the river to its great Albert source, and as the mighty stream glided before me, the mystery that had ever shrouded its origin was dissolved. I no longer looked upon its waters with a feeling approaching to awe for I knew its home, and had visited its cradle. Had I overrated the importance of the discovery? and had I wasted some of the best years of my life to obtain a shadow? I recalled to recollection the practical question of Commoro, the chief of Latooka, —"Suppose you get to the great lake, what will you do with it? What will be the good of it? If you find that the large river does flow from it, what then?"