. . Everything was ready for
the start. I left written instructions with the colonel, Raouf Bey, also
with Mr. Higginbotham, respecting the conduct of the works during my
absence. I also gave the necessary orders to Mr. Marcopolo; thus all
heads of departments knew their positions.
I sent off a detachment of 150 men to drive a herd of several thousand
cattle and sheep to a well-known rocky ravine, about six miles south,
which was to be the rendezvous.
Before leaving, I made rather a pretty shot with the "Dutchman" from the
poop-deck of my diahbeeah at a crocodile basking on a sand-bank. The
first shot through the shoulder completely paralyzed it. A second bullet
from the left-hand barrel struck only three inches from the first.
Lieutenant Baker determined to measure the distance; thus he took the
boat with the end of a long line, and we found it exactly 176 yards.
The "Dutchman" was the best rifle I ever shot with, and was quite
invaluable throughout the expedition.
I had served out a month's rations to the men, and my last instructions
to Raouf Bey were to look well after Livingstone, and provide for his
comfort should he appear during my absence.
On 22nd January, 1872, we started at 8 a.m., when I took leave of my
good friend and excellent engineer-in-chief, Mr. Edwin Higginbotham. I
little thought that we should never meet again.
The wind was light and variable, and my diahbeeah soon overtook the
heavier vessels. In the evening we all joined and concentrated our
forces at the rocky ravine, with the detachment that protected the
cattle.
On the following day, the 23rd January, we all started in excellent
spirits. The soldiers knew the country, and every one appeared to share
the enjoyment of adventure. The people had learnt to depend upon my
guidance, and although the interior of the country was unknown to them,
they were quite contented that I had had a personal experience of the
far south, and they were safe in my hands.
The stream was very powerful, and the wind was so variable that it was
necessary to tow the vessels. This would have been easy work if the
river had been deep in all parts, but unfortunately the water was rather
low, and many extensive sandbanks necessitated long detours.
The men were then obliged to wade hip-deep, and to tow the vessels round
the banks.
I never saw the people in such high spirits. They were not contented
with a walking pace, but they raced with each other, splashing through
the water, and hurrying round the points of the sand-banks, until they
once more reached dry ground. Then even the women and boys jumped
ashore, and laying hold of the tow-rope, joined the men in singing; and
running forward along the hard bank they made the diahbeeah surge
through the water.
This fun had continued for some hours, and I rejoiced that all hearts
seemed to have at length united in the work. I had no fanatics with me.
The black officers were excellent fellows now that they were relieved
from a certain influence at head-quarters. Abd-el-Kader was as true as
gold. Monsoor was a Christian, - and my "Forty Thieves" were stanch,
brave fellows who would go through fire.
Ali Nedjar was, as usual, revelling in strength and activity, and was
now foremost in the work of towing the diahbeeah.
A sudden bend in the river had caused a small sand-bank. It was
necessary to descend from the high shore to tow the vessel round the
promontory.
Men, women, and children, jumped down and waded along the edge of the
bank.
As the diahbeeah turned the sharp point, I noticed that the water was
exceedingly deep close to the sand-bank, and the stream was running like
a mill race.
Fearing some accident to the children, I ordered all who could not swim
to come on board the diahbeeah. At that time the bow of the vessel was
actually touching the sand, but the stern, having swung out in the
stream, might have been about fifteen feet from the edge of the bank in
very deep water.
When the order was given to come on board, many of the people, in the
ebullition of spirits, leapt heedlessly into the water amidships,
instead of boarding the vessel by the fore part, which touched the sand.
These were dragged on board with considerable difficulty.
The boy Saat would have been drowned had not Monsoor saved him. In the
confusion, when several were struggling in the water, I noticed Ali
Nedjar, who could not swim, battling frantically with his hands in such
a manner that I saw the poor fellow had lost his head. He was not three
feet from the vessel's side.
My four life-buoys were hung on open hooks at the four corners of the
poop-deck; thus, without one moment's delay, I dropped a buoy almost
into his hands. This he immediately seized with both arms, and I, of
course, thought he was safe: the buoy naturally canted up as he first
clutched it, and, instead of holding on, to my astonishment he
relinquished his grasp!
The next moment the strong current had hurried the buoyant safeguard far
away. A red tarboosh followed the life-buoy, floating near it on the
surface. . . . . . Ali Nedjar was gone! - drowned! He never rose again.
. . .
I was dreadfully shocked at the loss of my good soldier - he had been
much beloved by us all. We could hardly believe that he was really gone
for ever.
