I begged him to remember the importance of his promise, upon which I had depended when making all my arrangements for the journey. If he failed me now, I should be entirely ruined; whereas if he assisted me, as I had relied upon his honour, we should always remain the firmest friends, and he would be benefited by a grand herd of cattle, and would receive most valuable presents. He now declared "that his people had taken the matter into consideration, and they were quite determined. They would not listen to him, or be persuaded to anything they disliked. They never had carried, and they never would." I had the two natives with me who had resided for some time in our station at Gondokoro. One of these men, named Pittia, endeavoured to persuade Bedden to beat his nogara (big drum) and to summon his tribe; he might then, in my presence, explain the work proposed, and his people would see the cows which they would receive as payment for their labour. Bedden looked very ill at his ease; but after some delay, he rose from his seat, and declared his intention of immediately beating his nogara. He took leave and departed with his people. From my experience of Baris, I felt sure that I should never see Bedden again. He had hardly left the tent, when Pittia exclaimed, "I will follow him and listen to what he says to his people. I believe he will tell them NOT to carry the loads." Pittia immediately disappeared. Many natives had collected on the east side of the river, where my vessels had now formed a line alone the bank; I therefore crossed over in the dingy to converse with them in the faint hope of securing carriers. The natives were squatting about in small groups, and they listened coldly to all I had to say. The only answer I could obtain was, "that they belonged to Bedden, and if he told them to carry our things, they would obey; but without his order they could do nothing." This is the regular African diplomacy when work is required. The people say, "We must receive orders from our sheik." The sheik says, "I am willing, but my people will not obey me." It is this passive resistance that may ruin an expedition. My first exploration in Africa must necessarily have failed had I not been provided with transport animals. The readers of "The Albert N'yanza" may remember that I could not obtain a single native, and that I started from Gondokoro by moonlight without even an interpreter or guide. The horrible state of the White Nile had prevented all possibility of conveying camels from Khartoum. My carts and camel harness were prepared, but the invaluable animals could not be transported. I was thus dependent upon such rotten reeds as native promises. No one who is inexperienced in African travel can realize the hopeless position of being left with a mass of material without any possibility of transporting it.