Another letter was of very different tenor. It related the treachery of Fadl el Mulla, by whom he had been duped and abandoned, and begging us to wait for him and his people, as absolute ruin stared them in the face. They had but forty cartridges each, and if Kabba Rega attacked them, they must be inevitably destroyed. The soldiers were called, and they gave us the details. Twenty soldiers had arrived at Mazamboni’s, but only these three had volunteered to follow us. They also pleaded most abjectly for a further delay. The Pasha and I exchanged looks. “But, my friends,” I asked, “how can we be sure that Selim Bey intends coming after all?” “He will be sure to do so this time.” “But why is he waiting at Mswa? Why not have come himself with his steamer to the Lake Shore camp? It is only nine hours’ journey.” “He heard through some deserters that you had gone on.” “It might have been easy for him to have overtaken such a big caravan as this, with the few people whom he leads.” “But everything is going wrong. There are too many counsellors with Selim Bey, and the Egyptian clerks fill his ears with all kinds of stories. He is honest in his wishes to leave the land, but the others bewilder us all with their falsehoods.” “Well, we cannot stay here to await Selim Bey. I will go on slowly--a couple of hours a day. I must keep these people marching, otherwise the Pasha will be left alone. When we have crossed the Semliki River, we will choose a place on the other side a few days, and then move slowly again for a day or two, and halt. If Selim Bey is serious in his intentions, he will soon overhaul us; and, besides, when we reach the river we will send him a guide that will enable him to travel in four days what will take us twelve days. You will carry a letter from the Pasha to him explaining all this. But you must take care to be kind to the natives, otherwise they will not help you.” Among our Egyptians there was one called Ali Effendi, a captain, who complained of heart disease. He had been ailing for months. He had nine men and nine women servants, and, in addition to these, twelve carriers were allotted to him. His baggage numbered twenty loads. He could not travel 100 yards; he had also a child of six years that was too small to walk. He required six carriers more, and there was not one to be obtained, unless I authorised levying carriers by force from the natives, an act that would have to be repeated day by day. We persuaded this man to return, as a few days’ march would finish him. As he would not return without his family of fifteen persons, we consigned them to the charge of the couriers of Selim Bey, who would escort him back to their chief.