utterly impossible by preventing the natives from assisting
us. All had been threatened, and we, perfectly helpless, commenced the
desperate journey in darkness about an hour after sunset.

"Where shall we go?" said the men, just as the order was given to start.
"Who can travel without a guide? No one knows the road." The moon was
up, and the mountain of Belignan was distinctly visible about nine miles
distant. Knowing that the route lay on the east side of that mountain,
I led the way, Mrs. Baker riding by my side, and the British flag
following close behind us as a guide for the caravan of heavily laden
camels and donkeys. And thus we started on our march into Central Africa
on the 26th of March, 1863.

CHAPTER XV.

A start made at last--A forced march--Lightening the ship--Waiting
for the caravan--Success hangs in the balance--The greatest rascal in
Central Africa--Legge demands another bottle.

The country was park-like, but much parched by the dry weather. The
ground was sandy, but firm, and interspersed with numerous villages, all
of which were surrounded with a strong fence of euphorbia. The country
was well wooded, being free from bush or jungle, but numerous trees,
all evergreens, were scattered over the landscape. No natives were to be
seen but the sound of their drums and singing in chorus was heard in the
far distance. Whenever it is moonlight the nights are passed in singing
and dancing, beating drums, blowing horns, and the population of whole
villages thus congregate together.

After a silent march of two hours we saw watchfires blazing in the
distance, and upon nearer approach we perceived the trader's party
bivouacked. Their custom is to march only two or three hours on the
first day of departure, to allow stragglers who may have lagged behind
in Gondokoro to rejoin the party before morning.

We were roughly challenged by their sentries as we passed, and were
instantly told "not to remain in their neighborhood." Accordingly we
passed on for about half a mile in advance, and bivouacked on some
rising ground above a slight hollow in which we found water.

The following morning was clear, and the mountain of Belignan, within
three or four miles, was a fine object to direct our course. I could
distinctly see some enormous trees at the foot of the mountain near a
village, and I hastened forward, as I hoped to procure a guide who
would also act as interpreter, many of the natives in the vicinity o