Soon after this, while crossing the Kafue river, the heat being excessive, what was Mr Baker's horror to see his wife sink from her ox as though shot dead. He, with his attendants, carried her through the yielding vegetation, up to their waists in water, above which they could just keep her head, till they reached the banks. He then laid her under a tree, and now discovered that she had received a _coup de soleil_. As there was nothing to eat on the spot, it was absolutely necessary to move on. A litter was procured, on which Mrs Baker was carried, her husband mechanically following by its side. For seven days continuously he thus proceeded on his journey. Her eyes at length opened, but, to his infinite grief, he found that she was attacked by a brain fever.
One evening they reached a village. She was in violent convulsions. He believed all was over, and, while he sank down insensible by her side, his men went out to seek for a spot to dig her grave. On awakening, all hope having abandoned him, as he gazed at her countenance her chest gently heaved; she was asleep. When at a sudden noise she opened her eyes, they were calm and clear: she was saved.
Having rested for a couple of days, they continued their course, Mrs Baker being carried on her litter. At length they reached the village of Parkani. To his joy, as he gazed at some lofty mountains, he was told that they formed the western side of the Luta Nzige, and that the lake was actually within a march of the village. Their guide announced that if they started early in the morning, they might wash in the lake by noon. That night Baker hardly slept.
The following morning, the 14th of March, starting before sunrise, on ox-back, he and his wife, with their attendants, following his guide, in a few hours reached a hill from the summit of which "he beheld beneath him a grand expanse of water, a boundless sea horizon on the south and south-west, glittering in the noonday sun, while on the west, at fifty or sixty miles distant, blue mountains rose from the bosom of the lake to a height of about seven thousand feet above its level."
Hence they descended on foot, supported by stout bamboos, for two hours, to the white pebbly beach on which the waves of the lake were rolling.
Baker, in the enthusiasm of the moment, rushed into the lake, and, thirsty with heat and fatigue, with a heart full of gratitude, drank deeply from what he supposed to be one of the sources of the Nile, not dreaming of the wonderful discoveries Livingstone was making at that very time many degrees to the southward. He now bestowed upon this lake the name of the Albert Nyanza.
The dwellers on the borders of the lake are expert fishermen, and in one of their villages, named Vakovia, the travellers now established themselves.
His followers, two of whom had seen the sea at Alexandria, and who believed that they should never reach the lake, were astonished at its appearance, unhesitatingly declaring that though it was not salt, it must be the sea.
Salt, however, is the chief product of the country, numerous salt-pits existing in the neighbourhood, and in its manufacture the inhabitants are chiefly employed.
Vakovia is a miserable place, and, in consequence of its damp and hot position, the whole party suffered from fever.
Here they were detained eight days waiting for canoes, which Kamrasi had ordered his people to supply. At length several were brought, but they were merely hollowed-out trunks of trees, the largest being thirty-two feet long. Baker selected another, twenty-six feet long, but wider and deeper, for himself and his wife and their personal attendants, while the luggage and the remainder of the people embarked in the former. He raised the sides of the canoe, and fitted up a cabin for his wife, which was both rain and sun-proof.
Having purchased some provisions, he started on a voyage to survey the lake.
Vakovia is about a third of the way from the northern end of the lake.
His time would not allow him to proceed further south. He directed his course northward, towards the part out of which the Nile was supposed to flow.
The difficulties of the journey were not yet over. The first day's voyage was delightful, the lake calm, the scenery lovely. At times the mountains on the west coast were not discernible, and the lake appeared of indefinite width. Sometimes they passed directly under precipitous cliffs of fifteen hundred feet in height, rising abruptly out of the water, while from the deep clefts in the rocks evergreens of every tint appeared, and wherever a rivulet burst forth it was shaded by the graceful and feathery wild date. Numbers of hippopotami were sporting in the water, and crocodiles were numerous on every sandy beach.
Next night, however, the boatmen deserted, but, not to be defeated, Baker induced his own people to take to the paddles. He fitted a paddle to his own boat, to act as a rudder, but the men in the larger boat neglected to do as he had directed them.
A tremendous storm of rain came down while he was at work. His own canoe, however, being ready, he started. He was about to cross from one headland to another, when he saw the larger canoe spinning round and round, the crew having no notion of guiding her. Fortunately it was calm, and, on reaching the shore, he induced several natives to serve as his crew, while others went off in their own boats to assist the large canoe.
He now commenced crossing a deep bay, fully four miles wide. He had gained the centre when a tremendous storm came on, and enormous waves rolled in over the lake. The canoe laboured heavily and occasionally shipped water, which was quickly bailed out. Had this not been done, the canoe would inevitably have been swamped. Down came the rain in torrents, while the wind swept over the surface with terrific force, nothing being discernible except the high cliffs looming in the distance. The boatmen paddled energetically, and at last a beach was seen ahead. A wave struck the canoe, washing over her. Just then the men jumped out, and, though they were rolled over, they succeeded in hauling the boat up the beach.
The shore of the lake, as they paddled along it, was thinly inhabited, and the people very inhospitable, till they reached the town of Eppigoya. Even here the inhabitants refused to sell any of their goats, though they willingly parted with fowls at a small price.
At each village the voyagers changed their boatmen, none being willing to go beyond the village next them. This was provoking, as delays constantly occurred.
At length they reached Magimgo, situated inside an immense bed of reeds, at the top of a hill, above the mouth of a large river. Passing up a channel amidst a perfect wilderness of vegetation, they reached the shore below the town. Here they were met by their guide, who had brought their riding oxen from Vakovia, and reported them all well.
The chief of Magimgo and a large number of natives were also on the shore waiting for them, and brought them down a plentiful supply of goats, fowls, eggs, and fresh butter.
Proceeding on foot to the height on which Magimgo stands, they thence enjoyed a magnificent view, not only over the lake, but to the north, towards the point where its waters flow into the Nile.
Baker's great desire was to descend the Nile in canoes, from its exit from the lake to the cataracts in the Madi country, and thence to march direct, with only guns and ammunition, to Gondokoro. This plan he found impossible to carry out.
Before their return to the canoes, Mr Baker himself was laid prostrate with fever, and most of his men were also suffering.
They had heard, however, of a magnificent waterfall up the river. They accordingly proceeded up it, and, as they got about eighteen miles above Magimgo, a slight current was perceived. The river gradually narrowed to about a hundred and eighty yards, and now, when the paddles ceased working, the roar of water could be distinctly heard. Continuing on, the noise became louder. An enormous number of crocodiles were seen, and Mr Baker counted, on one sandbank alone, twenty-seven of large size.
Reaching a deserted fishing village, the crew at first refused to proceed further, but, on Mr Baker explaining that he merely wished to see the falls, they paddled up the stream, now strong against them.
On rounding a point, a magnificent sight burst upon them. On either side of the river were beautifully-wooded cliffs, rising abruptly to a height of about three hundred feet, rocks jutting out from the intensely green foliage, while, rushing through a gap which cleft the rock exactly before them, was the river. It is here contracted from a grand stream to the width of scarcely a hundred and fifty feet. Roaring fiercely through the rock-bound pass, it plunged, in one leap of about a hundred and twenty feet, perpendicularly into the dark abyss below, the snow-white sheet of water contrasting superbly with the dark cliff that walled the river, while the graceful palms of the tropics, and wild plantains, perfected the beauty of the scene.
This was the great waterfall of the Nile, and was named the Murchison Falls, in compliment to the president of the Royal Geographical Society.
To the river itself he gave the name of the Victoria Nile.
Having taken a view of the falls, and remained for some time admiring them, narrowly escaping being upset by a huge bull hippopotamus, they returned down the river to Magimgo.
Starting the next morning, both Mr and Mrs Baker suffering from fever, while all their quinine was exhausted, they found that their oxen had been bitten by the tsetse-fly, and were in a wretched condition, unlikely to live. Their guide also deserted them, and the whole of their carriers went off, leaving them on the Island of Patooam, in the Victoria River, to which they had been ferried across.
It was now the 8th of April, and within a few days the boats in which they had hoped to return down the Nile would leave Gondokoro. It was, therefore, of the greatest importance that they should set out at once, and take a direct route through the Shooa country.
The natives, not to be tempted even by bribes, positively refused to carry them. Their own men were also ill, and there was a great scarcity of provisions. War, indeed, was going on in the country to the east, Patooam being in the hands of Kamrasi's enemies. It was on this account that no Unyoro porters could be found.
They might have starved had not an underground granary of seed been discovered, by the means of Bacheeta, in one of the villages burned down by the enemy. This, with several varieties of wild plants, enabled them to support existence.
The last of their oxen, after lingering for some time, lay down to die, affording the men a supply of beef, and Saati and Bacheeta occasionally obtained a fowl from one of the neighbouring islands, which they visited in a canoe.
At length both Mr and Mrs Baker fully believed that their last hour was come, and he wrote various instructions in his journal, directing his head man to deliver his maps and observations to the British Consul at Khartoum.
The object, it appeared, of Kamrasi in thus leaving them, was to obtain their assistance against his enemies, and at length their guide, Rehonga, made his appearance, having been ordered to carry them to Kamrasi's camp.
The journey was performed, in spite of their weak state; and on their arrival they found ten of the Turks left as hostages with Kamrasi by Ibrahim, who had returned to Gondokoro. The Turks received them with respect and manifestations of delight and wonder at their having performed so difficult a journey.
A hut was built for their reception, and an ox, killed by the Turks, was prepared as a feast for their people.
The next day the king notified his readiness to receive the traveller, who, attiring himself in a Highland costume, was carried on the shoulders of a number of men into the presence of the monarch. The king informed him that he had made arrangements for his remaining at Kisoona.
As now all hope of reaching Gondokoro in time for the boats had gone, Mr Baker, yielding to necessity, prepared to make himself at home. He had a comfortable hut built, surrounded by a court-yard with an open shed in which he and his wife could spend the hot hours of the day.
Kamrasi sent him a cow which gave an abundance of milk, also amply supplying him with food.
Here the travellers were compelled to spend many months. Their stay was cut short, in consequence of the invasion of the country by Fowooka's people, accompanied by a large band of Turks under the trader Debono.
Kamrasi proposed at once taking to flight; but Baker promised to hoist the flag of England, and to place the country under British protection.
He then sent a message to Mahomet, Debono's _vakeel_, warning him that should a shot be fired by any of his people, he would be hung, and ordering them at once to quit the country; informing them, besides, that he had already promised all the ivory to Ibrahim, so that, contrary to the rules of the traders, they were trespassing in the territory.
This letter had its due effect. Mahomet deserted his allies, who were immediately attacked by Kamrasi's troops, and cut to pieces, while the women and children were brought away as captives. Among them, Bacheeta, who had once been a slave in the country, recognised her former mistress, who had been captured with the wives and daughters of their chief, Rionga.
After this Ibrahim returned, bringing a variety of presents for Kamrasi, which, in addition to the defeat of his enemies, put him in excellent humour.
Mr Baker was able to save the life of an old chief, Kalloe, who had been captured; but some days afterwards the treacherous Kamrasi shot him with his own hand.
At length the Turkish traders, having collected a large supply of ivory, were ready to return to Shooa; and Mr Baker, thankful to leave the territory of the brutal Kamrasi, took his leave, and commenced the journey with his allies, who, including porters, women, and children, amounted to a thousand people.
At Shooa he spent some months more encamped among the friendly Madi.
As they were marching thence through the country inhabited by the Bari tribe, they were attacked in a gorge by the natives. The latter were, however, driven back; but the following night the camp was surrounded, and poisoned arrows shot into it. One of the natives, who had ventured nearer than the rest, was shot, when the rest, who could not be seen on account of the darkness, retired. In the morning a number of arrows were picked up.