Ismailia by Sir Samuel White Baker (affordable ebook reader .txt) 📕

I heard a great commotion, and I saw a splashing in the river, the surface of which was covered with the ambatch fragments of a native canoe. There were many canoes on the river, several of which immediately went to the assistance of two men who were struggling in the water. A hippopotamus had wantonly charged the canoe, and seizing it in his mouth, together with the poor old blind sheik who could not avoid the danger, crunched the frail boat to pieces, and so crushed and lacerated the old man that, although he was rescued by his comrades, he died during the night.

As peace and confidence had been thoroughly established among the Shillooks, I determined to send for the governor of Fashoda, and to introduce him personally to the old king, Quat Kare, whom he had officially reported to be dead. I therefore summoned Quat Kare, and having informed him of my intention, I sent the steamer to Fashoda (sixty-five miles), and invited the Koordi to pay me a visit.

When he arrived, I received him beneath the tree which formed my divan, and after a preliminary pipe and coffee, we proceeded to business. I told him that he must have been in error when he reported the death of the old king, as I had proved him to be still alive. He replied that he did not believe the real Quat Kare was in existence, as he had heard on the best authority that he was dead. I gave an order to an aide-de-camp, and in a few minutes the tall and stately figure of the old king was seen approaching, accompanied by his wives, ministers, and a crowd of most orderly retainers, including several of his sons. The king sat down upon a carpet in a dignified manner, without taking the slightest notice of the Koordi governor. His two wives sat down by him, but his sons stood with his followers a few yards distant.

The Koordi, who was a remarkably handsome old man, with a snow-white beard, sat equally unmoved, smoking the long chibook, without apparently regarding the king or his people. The chibook is a most useful instrument for a diplomat. If the situation is difficult, he can puff, puff, puff, and the incorrigible pipe will not draw; in the mean time, he considers a reply. At length the pipe draws, a cloud of smoke issues from the mouth. "I beg your pardon," says the embarrassed diplomat, evidently relieved by the little unreal difficulty with his pipe, "what were we talking about?" and having considered his reply, he is ready for argument. The pipe then draws leisurely, the smoke ascends in steady clouds, while he listens to the arguments of the other side. There is no necessity for a too sudden reply. Even if the conversation has ceased, the pipe may be calmly smoked, while the facts of the case are arranged in the owner's mind before he commits himself to an answer.

In the present instance nobody spoke, but the Koordi governor of Fashoda smoked steadily. Presently Quat Kare fixed his eyes upon him with a steady and determined stare, but with his usual immovable features, and he thus silently regarded him during several minutes. "Have I found thee, O mine enemy?" might have been the Shillook king's idea, but he kept silence.

How long this tableau vivant would have continued it is impossible to say, therefore I proceeded to business by asking the governor if he knew Quat Kare by sight? He only replied "yes."

At this reply, the king, without altering his position or expression, said, "Then who am I?"

The Koordi raised his eyes for the first time, and looked at Quat Kare, but said nothing; he only puffed--the pipe did not seem to draw well. At length a fair volume of smoke was emitted, and the Koordi answered by a question: "If you are Quat Kare, why did you hide yourself? why did you not present yourself before me at Fashoda? then I should have known that you were alive."

Quat Kare regarded him fixedly, and he replied slowly, "Where are all my cattle that you stole? where are the women and children that you kidnapped? I considered that if you took my cattle and captured my people, you might probably take ME, therefore I declined the opportunity."

The Koordi puffed and puffed vigorously, but the long pipe did not draw; something had evidently choked the tube.

It would be tedious to describe the whole dialogue, but there was no question that the old Shillook king had the best of the argument; therefore, after a long discussion, during which the king was continually prompted by his favourite wife, in excited whispers that every one could hear, I examined both the governor and the king upon various points; and came to the conclusion that the governor was a great scoundrel, and the king a very cunning fellow; at the same time he had been shamefully treated. The Koordi had reported him as dead, and obtained a firman conferring the title of Sheik of the Shillooks upon an impostor, who had been a brand enemy of Quat Kare. Since that time the adherents of Quat Kare had been subject to constant raids and pillage, and the old king was a fugitive, who, if caught by the Koordi, would assuredly have been quietly put OUT OF THE WAY.[*]


[*Footnote: Eventually the old king, Quat Kare, was imprisoned at Fashoda, and died in a mysterious manner. There are no coroners' inquests in Central Africa.)


I decided that the affair must be settled in the following manner:--I explained that I had no jurisdiction in the Shillook country, which was under the government of Ali Bey, the Koordi; but as I held the positive and special orders of the Khedive to suppress the slave trade, I had been compelled to interfere and to release those captives who had been thus shamelessly kidnapped.

With regard to the general pillage of the country instead of direct taxation, the governor would explain his conduct to the Khedive.

With regard to the false report of Quat Kare's death, there could be no doubt that the firman for his rival Jangy had been obtained from the Khedive under false pretences.

I therefore recommended Quat Kare and his sons to go direct to Khartoum, and plead his cause at the divan of Djiaffer Pacha, who was the governor-general of the Soudan, which included the Shillook country; thus the whole affair was within his jurisdiction. I also explained that I should send an official despatch to the Khedive of Egypt, and also to Djiaffer Pacha, describing the general state of the Shillook country and the special case of Quat Kare, with a direct report upon the kidnapping of slaves by the government's representative.

At the same time, I assured Quat Kare and his people that the Khedive had only one object in forming a government: this was to protect the natives and to develop the resources of the country. I persuaded the Koordi and Quat Kare to become friends and at once to declare peace; thus, all hostilities having ceased, the responsibility for further disturbance would rest with him who should recommence a breach of the peace.

I advised the Shillook king to forget the past, where there had evidently been a mistake, and he should trust to his application to Djiaffer Pacha, who would speedily give him justice. The Shillook king then replied, without moving a muscle of his features, "If I forget the past, what is to become of all my cattle that the Koordi has stolen from me? Is he going to return them, or keep them himself, and forget the past? I can't forget my cows."

This practical question was difficult to answer. The Koordi's pipe was out: he therefore rose from his seat and retired, leaving the stoical Quat Kare master of his position, but not of his cattle. I advised him to say nothing more until he should see Djiaffer Pacha, and he would receive a direct reply from the Khedive.

Quat Kare, with his wives and daughters and general retinue, determined to pass the night in our station.

I therefore ordered an ox to be killed for their entertainment. I gave the king a large Cashmere scarf, also one of red printed cotton, and a dozen small harness bells, which he immediately arranged as anklets. His usually unchangeable countenance relaxed into a smile of satisfaction as he took leave, and the bells tinkled at every footstep as he departed.

Quat Kare never eats or drinks in the presence of his people, but his food is taken to him either within a hut or to a lonely tree.

On the following morning both the governor of Fashoda and the old king returned to their respective homes.

On the 10th May, a sail was reported by the sentries in the south. None of the slave-traders had any intelligence of my station at Tewfikeeyah. The people of Kutchuk Ali, on the Bahr Giraffe, were under the impression that we had returned direct to Khartoum. I was rather curious to know whether they would presume to send slaves down the White Nile during this season, knowing that the Khedive had sent me expressly to suppress the trade. I could not believe that the Koordi governor of Fashoda would have the audacity to allow the free passage of slave vessels after the stringent orders that had been given. Although I had heard that this governor had amassed a considerable fortune by the establishment of a toll per head for every slave that passed Fashoda, I imagined that he would this year make up his mind that the rich harvest was over.

If any vessels should attempt to descend with slave cargoes, they must pass my new station, of which they were ignorant, and the fact would prove the complicity of the governor of Fashoda, as it would substantiate all the reports that I had heard concerning his connivance with the slave-traders. The strange sail now reported was rapidly approaching on her route to Khartoum, without the slightest suspicion that a large military station was established within four miles of the Sobat junction. If guilty, she was thus approaching the jaws of the lion.

As she neared the station, she must have discovered the long row of masts and yards of the fleet moored alongside the quay. Of these she appeared to take no notice, and keeping well in the middle of the river, she would have passed the station, and continued on her voyage. This looked very suspicious, and I at once sent a boat to order her to halt.

When she was brought alongside, I sent my trusty aide-de-camp, Colonel Abd-el-Kader, on board to make the necessary inquiries. She was quite innocent. The captain and the vakeel (agent and commander of station) were amazed at my thinking it necessary to search their vessel. She had a quantity of corn on board, stowed in bulk. There was not a person beside the crew and a few soldiers from Kutchuk Ali's station.

The vakeel was the same whom I had seen at the station at the Bahr Giraffe, to whom I had given advice that he should not attempt to send slaves down the river again. All was in order. The vessel belonged to Kutchuk Ali, who now commanded the government expedition sent by Djiaffer Pacha to the Bahr Gazal. She was laden with ivory beneath the corn, which was for the supply of the crew and soldiers.

Colonel Abd-el-Kader was an excellent officer; he was one of the exceptions who took a great interest in the expedition, and he always served me faithfully. He was a