they marched at 2 o'clock P.M., sending a polite message, "daring" me to
follow them.

I immediately ordered the tent to be struck, the luggage to be arranged,
the animals to be collected, and everything to be ready for the march.
Richarn and Saat were in high spirits, even my unwilling men were
obliged to work, and by 7 P.M. we were all ready. The camels were too
heavily loaded, carrying about seven hundred pounds each. The donkeys
were also overloaded, but there was no help for it. Mrs. Baker was well
mounted on my good old Abyssinian hunter "Tetel," ("Hartebeest") and
was carrying several leather bags slung to the pommel, while I was
equally loaded on my horse "Filfil;" ("Pepper") in fact, we were all
carrying as much as we could stow.

We had neither guide, nor interpreter. Not one native was procurable,
all being under the influence of the traders, who had determined to
render our advance utterly impossible by preventing the natives from
assisting us. All had been threatened, and we, perfectly helpless,
commenced the desperate journey in darkness about an hour after sunset.

"Where shall we go?" said the men, just as the order was given to start.
"Who can travel without a guide? No one knows the road." The moon was
up, and the mountain of Belignan was distinctly visible about nine miles
distant. Knowing that the route lay on the east side of that mountain, I
led the way, Mrs. Baker riding by my side, and the British flag
following close behind us as a guide for the caravan of heavily laden
camels and donkeys. We shook hands warmly with Dr. Murie, who had come
to see us off, and thus we started on our march in Central Africa on the
26th of March, 1863.