Again The Expedition Marched On In The Right Direction.
We
reached the last village on the Uganda frontier, and there spent
the night.
Here Grant shot a nsunnu buck. The Wanguana mutinied
for ammunition, and would not lift a load until they got it,
saying, "Unyoro is a dangerous country," though they had been
there before without any more than they now had in pouch. The
fact was, my men, in consequence of the late issues on the river,
happened to have more than Grant's men, and every man must have
alike. The ringleader, unfortunately for himself, had lately
fired at a dead lion, to astonish the Unyoro, and his chum had
fired a salute, which was contrary to orders; for ammunition was
at a low ebb, and I had done everything in my power to nurse it.
Therefore, as a warning to the others, the guns of these two were
confiscated, and a caution given that any gun in future let off,
either by design or accident, would be taken.
To-day I felt very thankful to get across the much-vexed
boundary-line, and enter Unyoro, guided by Kamrasi's deputation
of officers, and so shake off the apprehensions which had teased
us for so many days. This first march was a picture of all the
country to its capital: an interminable forest of small trees,
bush, and tall grass, with scanty villages, low huts, and dirty-
looking people clad in skins; the plantain, sweet potato,
sesamum, and ulezi (millet) forming the chief edibles, besides
goats and fowls; whilst the cows, which are reported to be
numerous, being kept, as everywhere else where pasture-lands are
good, by the wandering, unsociable Wahuma are seldom seen.
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