with the Italians, and, as I afterwards learned, had been
dismissed for continued drunkenness and chronic inefficiency.
His name was Mahomet el Hussein. He had
been placed in command of the men at the time of
their engagement in compliance with their expressed
wish; and they had sworn to obey him and, through
him, the Europeans connected with the expedition.
It was soon made manifest why he had been the
choice of the men as their officer. He disclosed wonderful
capabilities for incessant importuning, never, as
he persistently declared, in his own behalf, but in the
interest of his devoted followers. Day after day, when
I left my tent in the morning, I would find him seated
near its valance with an expression of modest deprecation
upon his face. Upon seeing me, he would rise,
salute in the most approved military fashion, and then,
in a low, whining voice, he would proceed to unburden
himself of a long list of complaints. His part of the
conversation was carried on in the only language with
which he was familiar — Arabic. A t that time I was
totally unacquainted with this tongue; so it became
necessary at these recitals to call in the assistance of an
interpreter. The interpreter to whom we had recourse
was another of the Soudanese,'named Ramazan, who,
having seen service in German East Africa, spoke Swahili
fluently — a language with which I was well conversant.
The difference between the Balook Bashi and his
interpreter was very marked. Ramazan stood six feet
two, without his sandals, was as black as coal, possessed
fierce eyes and a smooth, round face. The Balook Bashi
was the shortest of my Soudanese. His complexion was
of a chocolate colour; he carried his head forward, as
though in the act of avoiding a blow; his eyes were
furtive in expression, and the slightest movement of his
hands seemed to lead to a deprecating shrug of his
shoulders. He alone, of all my Soudanese, lacked the
martial bearing of a soldier.
During these interviews, Ramazan translated fluently
and, as far as possible, with dignity the ridiculous complaints
of his superior. After a short experience I
came to the conclusion that, although it would be impolitic
to check these complaints, it was a prodigal waste
of time to listen to them. So, at the end of a long
harangue, I would dismiss Mahomet el Hussein with as
pleasant a smile as I could conjure up, and an assurance
that I would look into the matter. This method
of dealing with the complaints achieved the result anticipated
and intended. The men, discovering that their
choice of Balook Bashi was an unsatisfactory one, treated
this officer with all the contempt he deserved, and paved
a way toward a change of my relations with them. Findin
g the complaints made through their chief officer were
unheeded, the Soudanese began to come individually to
make their statements, and by this means I was able
¡'to gather a more or less’ clear knowledge of the individual
character of each.
One among the Soudanese, Juma Moussa by name,
I soon discovered was at the bottom of every complaint
: made, no matter by which of the men it was presented.
This man was a native of Wadai, a kingdom situated
in the very centre of Africa, and lying between the
province of Bahr el Ghazal and the kingdom of Bornu.
fin early youth he had wandered with a caravan to