The slow march continued, through grass about eight feet high, and
occasional forest. The rain now descended steadily, and I feared that
the old muzzle-loading muskets would miss fire.
The sound of drums and horns was now heard throughout the country, as
the alarm spread rapidly from village to village. We could hear the
shouts of natives, and drums that were now sounding in the forest upon a
hill on our right. These people were evidently in possession of a path
unknown to us, which ran parallel to our route.
For seven hours the march continued with such frequent halts, owing to
the straying of the cattle, that we had only progressed the short
distance of ten miles, when, at 4.40 P.M., we entered the valley of Jon
Joke. We saw before us the hill covered with plantain groves where we
had slept when upon the march to Masindi.
The grass was very high, and the path hardly a foot wide, only
resembling a sheep run. Suddenly the advance-guard opened a hot fire,
and the bugle sounded "halt!"
A few paces in front of me, my favourite sailor and fisherman, Howarti,
was in the line, carrying a metal box upon his head. In addition to his
musket, which was slung across his shoulders, I had given him one of my
double breechloading pistols, which he carried in his belt.
The word was suddenly passed that "Howarti was speared!"
Lances now flew across the path, and the line opened fire into the grass
upon our right, according to orders.
I immediately went up to Howarti. I found him sitting upon the ground
by the side of his box, in the act of reloading his pistol with a Boxer
cartridge. A lance had struck him in the fleshy part of the right arm,
just below the point of junction with the shoulder, and, passing through
his body, it had protruded from his stomach. Upon feeling the wound,
Howarti had dropped his load, and drawing his pistol, he shot the native
dead, as he leapt from his ambush to recover the lance which was
sticking in the poor fellow's body.
Here was another of my best men sacrificed. Howarti had always been a
true, good man, and he had just exhibited his cool courage. He had
himself pulled the spear from his body.
My wife had followed me immediately upon hearing that Howarti was
injured. He had reloaded his pistol, but in reply to my question whether
he could sit upon a donkey, he fainted. I roughly bandaged him for the
present moment, and we laid him upon an angareb (stretcher-bedstead),
but the men were so heavily laden that it was difficult to find
supporters. Lieutenant Baker kindly took one end upon his shoulder, and
with the assistance of the guard, we carried him forward.
