er the
departure of Speke and Grant from Gondokoro, Debono's people had marched
directly to Rionga, allied themselves to him, crossed the Nile with his
people, and had attacked Kamrasi's country, killing about three hundred
of his men, and capturing many slaves. I now understood why they had
deceived me at Gondokoro: they had obtained information of the country
from Speke's people, and had made use of it by immediately attacking
Kamrasi in conjunction with Rionga.

This would be a pleasant introduction for me on entering Unyoro, as
almost immediately after the departure of Speke and Grant, Kamrasi had
been invaded by the very people into whose hands his messengers had
delivered them, when they were guided from Unyoro to the Turks' station
at Faloro. He would naturally have considered that the Turks had been
sent by Speke to attack him; thus the road appeared closed to all
exploration, through the atrocities of Debono's people.

Many of Ibrahim's men, at hearing this intelligence, refused to proceed
to Unyoro. Fortunately for me, Ibrahim had been extremely unlucky in
procuring ivory. The year had almost passed away, and he had a mere
nothing with which to return to Gondokoro. I impressed upon him how
enraged Koorshid would be should he return with such a trifle. Already
his own men declared that he was neglecting razzias because he was to
receive a present from me if we reached Unyoro. This they would report
to his master (Koorshid), and it would be believed should he fail in
securing ivory. I guaranteed him 100 cantars (10,000 pounds) if he would
push on at all hazards with me to Kamrasi and secure me porters from
Shooa. Ibrahim behaved remarkably well. For some time past I had
acquired a great influence over him, and he depended so thoroughly upon
my opinion that he declared himself ready to do all that I suggested.
Accordingly I desired him to call his men together, and to leave in
Shooa all those who were disinclined to follow us.

At once I arranged for a start, lest some fresh idea should enter the
ever-suspicious brains of our followers and mar the expedition. It
was difficult to procure porters, and I abandoned all that was not
indispensable--our last few pounds of rice and coffee, and even the
great sponging-bath, that emblem of civilization that had been clung to
even when the tent had been left behind.

On the 18th of January, 1864, we left Shooa. The pure air of that
country had invigorated us, and I was