object, before I asked, "Who is that?" No answer was given--until,
upon repeating the question, with my finger touching gently upon the
trigger ready to fire, a voice replied, "Fadeela." Never had I been so
near to a fatal shot! It was one of the black women of the party, who
had crept into the tent for an asylum. Upon striking a light I found
that the woman was streaming with blood, being cut in the most frightful
manner with the coorbatch (whip of hippopotamus' hide). Hearing the
screams continued at some distance from the tent, I found my angels in
the act of flogging two women; two men were holding each woman upon the
ground by sitting upon her legs and neck, while two men with powerful
whips operated upon each woman alternately. Their backs were cut to
pieces, and they were literally covered with blood. The brutes had taken
upon themselves the task of thus punishing the women for a breach of
discipline in being absent without leave. Fadeela had escaped before her
punishment had been completed, and narrowly escaped being shot by
running to the tent without giving warning. Seizing the coorbatch from
the hands of one of the executioners, I administered them a dose of
their own prescription, to their intense astonishment, as they did not
appear conscious of any outrage;--"they were only slave women." In all
such expeditions it is necessary to have women belonging to the party to
grind the corn and prepare the food for the men; I had accordingly hired
several from their proprietors at Khartoum, and these had been
maltreated as described.

I was determined at all hazards to start from Gondokoro for the
interior. From long experience with natives of wild countries, I did not
despair of obtaining an influence over my men, however bad, could I once
quit Gondokoro, and lead them among the wild and generally hostile
tribes of the country; they would then be separated from the contagion
of the slave-hunting parties, and would feel themselves dependent upon