"That is bad," said Stanley. "We shall have to carry him off by force."
The situation was a doubtful one. Stanley could not wait any longer at his camp on the shore of the lake, for he was in a country destitute of supplies and he was constantly exposed to danger from the hostile people in his vicinity. At last he succeeded in getting Emin with some of his most faithful officers to come to the camp and after endless discussions, deliberations, and protests, the tenth of April, 1889, was fixed upon for the march to the coast. Those of the Soudanese who would not join them within two months must take the consequences. Emin gave up with a sad heart. Over and over he declared he could not leave his people. The indifferent manner with which Stanley imposed his will grieved the man whom the negroes rightly designated as "father and mother of their country." At last he had to yield. Of all his people only six hundred were in camp at the right time and saved from the dreadful cruelty of the Mahdi.
On the tenth of April, 1889, the horn gave the signal to prepare for departure. Stanley kept his word. The caravan was arranged in marching order and at seven o'clock moved away, while behind them a dense black cloud of smoke and crackling flames from the burning camp said farewell to them.
Their course took them over a range of grassy, treeless hills, whose monotony was dispelled by valleys with groups of palms. Farmers and shepherds occupied the region and millet, sweet potatoes, and bananas were cultivated. The march was very regular when one considers that the most of the people were unaccustomed to efforts of this kind and that there was a considerable number of children and women and old broken-down men. Stanley rode at the head of the expedition followed by the Zanzibarites and Manjema bearers. Emin led his own people and hardened veterans brought up the rear, who urged on the laggards and relentlessly drove them along. Ferida rode continually by the side of her tender father. He now began to rejoice for her sake that they were going to a safe and peaceful country, where his little daughter could be educated and properly brought up.
Emin thought with a sad heart of those left behind and there was much to trouble him on the journey, for his servants and soldiers were so thoroughly convinced that they would be abandoned at Wadelai that when they pitched their camp that night at Niamgabe, sixty-nine of them eluded the vigilance of the sentinels and escaped. So sure were they that they would be attacked by the natives on the road that the most stringent measures were adopted to prevent further desertions. Unfortunately Stanley was taken seriously ill at this time, and they had to remain at Niamgabe nearly a month, until by the efforts of Emin and Dr. Parke, he recovered. It became difficult, therefore, to procure provisions at that place and still more difficult to maintain order in the great expedition.