CHAPTER XXXV.

A week's rest was granted to the three united caravans, and nobody asked for more. When, as often happens, a European traveller is compelled by his escort to make a longer stay than he wishes in any one place, it is because the country through which he is passing, or the village where he has halted, does not offer any attraction to either the soldiers or his bearers. The western shore of Lake Albert certainly does not present any feature of interest to beings insensible to the beauties of Nature, and, consequently, all these people were desirous of reaching, as soon as possible, the less deserted districts.

This rest was more appreciated by the Europeans than by their escort. After so much excitement and fatigue, they had a pressing need of rest and the opportunity of recruiting their strength. The calm of the surrounding scene, the blue water which appeared to be lulled to sleep at their feet, and the fresh and smiling country, refreshed their jaded minds and calmed their over-excited nerves, whilst at the same time their limbs, wearied by forced marches, recovered their wonted suppleness in the cooling waters of the Albert-Nyanza.

M. de Guéran, especially, could not fail to benefit from this interval of rest; the mountain air, the change of climate, and the comparatively speaking, fresh air following on the equatorial heat of Ulindi, did him a world of good. The fever, though it did not leave him altogether, gave him a respite of whole days, his weakness decreased sensibly, and the fears entertained by M. Desrioux, that an affection of the brain would supervene, were completely set at rest. But, in spite of all his care and the general solicitude, the wounded man had suffered cruelly during his ten days journey through the mountains. His hammock had more than once struck against obstacles on the road, and his wounds, which would have healed over, had he been at rest, were still open. Now, lying on a camp bedstead near the shore, under the shade of a tamarind tree, and far from the noise of the caravan, he was in a fair way to recovery. Under the pretext, a very good one, by-the-way, that he should make no effort to think, and that his brain should enjoy absolute rest, he was not allowed to speak to anybody, Madame de Guéran even avoiding any sustained conversation with him.

The rest and idleness on the shore of the lake might, possibly, have been prolonged in the interests of the convalescent, had there not been a general wish to leave Africa before the commencement of the rainy season, and, above all, to reach Gondokoro before the general exodus of the boats, which takes place in March and April. Three months had still to elapse before the arrival of that period, and, according to all calculations, a few weeks would suffice to gain the last station on the Nile, but in Africa a considerable margin must always be allowed for accidents and eventualities of all kinds.

The expedition, therefore, set out once more on the 2nd January, 1874. For several days it journeyed, at the rate of about fifteen miles per diem, along the western shore of Lake Albert. As it advanced northwards, the lake became narrower, and presently the eastern side and the most trivial details of the country there could be distinctly seen without the aid of a telescope. The caravan might easily have imagined that it was on the bank of a large river if the maps had not made it clear that the sheet of water terminated in a point.

But, a few days afterwards, a river, instead of a lake, was in view.

"It is the Nile," said M. de Morin. "It flows out of the Albert-Nyanza, according to the records of Speke, Grant, and Baker. We have only to follow it and we shall reach Gondokoro by the territory of the Madis, Baris, and Latookas, and the valley of Ellyria."

"I fancy you are mistaken, my dear fellow," replied Dr. Desrioux. "The Nile, as far as I have been able to ascertain, flows from W.S.W. to N.E. The river before us, on the contrary, is running westwards, and appears to flow away from the countries you have just mentioned. It is also stated that the Nile, on leaving the Albert-Nyanza, at once enters a defile, formed by two chains of mountains, one of which is called Gebel-Kookoo, and I do not see any defile whatever. I am therefore tempted to believe that we have discovered a second arm of the Nile, flowing, like the other one, from Lake Albert. But what does it matter? Let us follow the route it appears to show us, always supposing that it does not make too sharp a bend and so turn us from our course."

This advice was followed; the caravan, without seeking for any other road or attempting to fathom this fresh mystery of the Nile, pursued its riverside way.

The justice of the doctor's observations presently became apparent. The stream alongside which they were journeying did not present any of the obstacles recorded as existing in the Nile, neither rocky islets, nor mud banks covered with papyrus, nor gloomy ravines, nor steep cliffs. They met with no impetuous torrents, nor narrow gorges, bordered by perpendicular rocks and forests of bamboos. The river appeared to be navigable along its entire course, whilst the Nile, according to trustworthy authorities, is interspersed, between Lake Albert and Gondokoro, with impassable cataracts.

They were anxious to make enquiries amongst the natives, and to ascertain the name of their country, but the people, alarmed at the appearance of so numerous a caravan, and fearing to be taken as slaves, fled at their approach. In order to obtain a supply of provisions they had often to enter the abandoned huts and seize upon what they would have been willing to purchase. But, by the express orders of the Europeans, glass beads, iron wire, or calico, of which MM. Desrioux and de Pommerelle had still a considerable stock, were left in exchange either in the dwellings or the public squares.

The river now no longer flowed westwards; from the fourth degree of latitude it ran directly towards the north, and this confirmed the Europeans in their idea that it would not take them out of their proper course. There were other indications, also, which not only removed all doubt on this head, but also showed that if the expedition had not actually entered the Latooka country, the frontier was close at hand. The aspect of the villagers, the dress of the natives, who now allowed themselves to be approached, a few costumes seen here and there, agreeing with the reports made by Baker, gave unmistakeable evidence that they were in a district already marked and traversed, of which certain portions only, those they were crossing, were unexplored.

At length, on the 5th February, whilst the caravan was, as usual, following a course parallel with the Nile, they saw, on the left hand, the conical hill of Regiaf, and, on the right, the distant peak of Belignian. At sunset Gondokoro was but three miles distant.

The journey was, to a certain extent, at an end. Indeed, in the case of explorers who had come such an enormous distance, it was mere child's play, simply a stroll, to descend the Nile in a boat, to touch at Khartoum and Berber, to pass a few rapids, to cross Nubia and Egypt, arrive at Cairo, and embark on board a mail steamer for Marseilles.

As they had had a hard day's work, they determined not to enter Gondokoro the same evening; so, for the last time, the camp was pitched in the open air on the banks of the Nile. As usual, the tents of the Europeans were placed at one end of the encampment, as far as possible from the Khartoum and Zanzibar people, whose very numbers made them noisy. These tents, as might be expected after so long a campaign, were rather dilapidated, and more than one large slit gave free ingress to the sun's rays. That used by Madame de Guéran was the only one in a decent state of preservation, owing to the great care which had been bestowed upon it. It was distinguished from the rest by a small flag, placed on the top of it so that the Europeans, in case of alarm, might more easily rush to the assistance of their beloved Sultana.

Nobody sat up late that evening. There was a general anxiety to be up and astir the first thing next morning, and to enter Gondokoro as soon as possible, in the hope of finding there news from Europe and of arranging everything for an immediate return. M. de Morin, however, before turning in to his tent, had a short conversation with M. Delange.

"Well," said he, "what are you going to do now with your Venus in ebony? I presume you do not intend to secure a berth for her on board the vessel we are about to engage? My fears are dissipated. Walinda, I admit, no longer indulges in black looks. You have kept watch and ward over her most conscientiously, and you have been prudently cruel enough not to cut her cords. Nevertheless, she cannot enjoy our society for ever. Up to to-day you have managed to prevent all communication between the Queen and her former prisoner. That was possible; the one, closely watched, marched with the rearguard; the other, still suffering, and always carried in his hammock, never left the centre of the caravan. But very soon M. de Guéran will be perfectly well, and will wander at will amongst the soldiers and bearers—do you take in the whole scene?"

"Make your mind quite easy," said the doctor. "From to-morrow Walinda shall be free, and everything leads me to believe that she will have no other thought than that of returning to her own country."

"In that case, good night," said M. de Morin.

He went away, and M. Delange, as soon as he was out of sight, rejoined his prisoner.

In order to watch her more readily, he had caused a sort of hut to be constructed for her between the European tents and the spot occupied by the escort. He often took her daily meal to her, and spent a few moments in her hut. He, nevertheless, did not allow himself to be moved with compassion, nor had he hitherto deemed it right to restore her freedom to her. But, now that Gondokoro was only a few miles distant, now that Egypt was almost reached, M. Delange departed from his severity and forgot his prudence. For the first time for six weeks the bonds of Venus in ebony were cast off.

Towards two o'clock in the morning, whilst the doctor, who had now entire confidence in his prisoner, was fast asleep and reposing after the fatigues of the day, Walinda took hold of a hunting knife which M. Delange had left close to her, looked carefully round about her, and, when she had satisfied herself that everything was quiet in the camp, and that the sentries themselves, reassured by the proximity of Gondokoro, had left their posts, she glided stealthily in the darkness towards the tents of the Europeans.

There she halted and peered about for the flag which marked the tend occupied by Madame de Guéran. She saw it, and now sure of not making a mistake, she crept to the tent, noiselessly raised one of the curtains, glided inside, and then suddenly standing upright she bounded to the side of the bed, and buried her knife in the breast of the sleeper.