On the twelfth day of the month of truce, Dhu al-Qada, in the
year 1276*, my master, the most eloquent and munificent Shah Wadi-Wahdi
did continue his travels across Zanji.
However, it is a tale of woe, shameful pride and discount gunpowder which I must share with you this evening.
My master's caravan was by now somewhat further to the south of our location when I last I spoke to you. Word had reached us from fellow believers that the Ngoni of this region were no more than donkeys dressed as lions, despite the fearsome reputation they had amongst others. The caravan therefore marched onwards boldly, our brave Baluchis blazing a path before them.
Alas, it became very clear that we had been spotted, for soon the lush long grass all around us was filled with the whispering of warriors and the rustling of their preparations to ambush us. One-eyed Abdullahi and Qurd quickly scouted out safe passage for Kibonghe and our baggage, and drew them along that route accompanied by some of our loyal freemen. The remainder of our force prepared for battle.
God be praised, we thought, for very soon the enemy revealed themselves, and in fewer numbers than when we had encountered the rascally Ruga-Ruga. Arrogantly, our jezail armed troops drew themselves into a firing line at the head of our caravan, where the enemy were charging head-on. Likewise our wangwana did the same to cover the caravn's right flank, where the enemy were also massing to charge. What could go wrong?
Well, much could go wrong. As the saying has it, "pride goes before a fall". Despite the volleys of fire from both the Baluchis and wangwana, naught but a single enemy died- A thousand curses be rained down upon the mangy Teutonic cur that sold us such inferior powder for our guns**! Disaster then fell upon disaster, for these were not any ordinary spearmen who closed with us in melee. These were truly warriors, the equal of our own swordsmen to be found in the dar al-Harb (may my tongue be struck silent if I lie).
Soon our swordsmen were surrounded and outnumbered by their foe, despite desperately trying to give a good account of themselves. Our wangwana never stood a chance. It is true that they did not yield to the enemy onslaught, no dount inspired by the Shah's honeyed words, but is also true that they were clearly no match for the Ngoni warriors. My master's caravan was therefore forced to abandon its intended route (along with some of its precious hongo) and seek an alternative direction.
Truly, we are most humbled!
However, it is a tale of woe, shameful pride and discount gunpowder which I must share with you this evening.
My master's caravan was by now somewhat further to the south of our location when I last I spoke to you. Word had reached us from fellow believers that the Ngoni of this region were no more than donkeys dressed as lions, despite the fearsome reputation they had amongst others. The caravan therefore marched onwards boldly, our brave Baluchis blazing a path before them.
 |
| Our brave- and victorious- opponent. |
Alas, it became very clear that we had been spotted, for soon the lush long grass all around us was filled with the whispering of warriors and the rustling of their preparations to ambush us. One-eyed Abdullahi and Qurd quickly scouted out safe passage for Kibonghe and our baggage, and drew them along that route accompanied by some of our loyal freemen. The remainder of our force prepared for battle.
God be praised, we thought, for very soon the enemy revealed themselves, and in fewer numbers than when we had encountered the rascally Ruga-Ruga. Arrogantly, our jezail armed troops drew themselves into a firing line at the head of our caravan, where the enemy were charging head-on. Likewise our wangwana did the same to cover the caravn's right flank, where the enemy were also massing to charge. What could go wrong?
Well, much could go wrong. As the saying has it, "pride goes before a fall". Despite the volleys of fire from both the Baluchis and wangwana, naught but a single enemy died- A thousand curses be rained down upon the mangy Teutonic cur that sold us such inferior powder for our guns**! Disaster then fell upon disaster, for these were not any ordinary spearmen who closed with us in melee. These were truly warriors, the equal of our own swordsmen to be found in the dar al-Harb (may my tongue be struck silent if I lie).
Soon our swordsmen were surrounded and outnumbered by their foe, despite desperately trying to give a good account of themselves. Our wangwana never stood a chance. It is true that they did not yield to the enemy onslaught, no dount inspired by the Shah's honeyed words, but is also true that they were clearly no match for the Ngoni warriors. My master's caravan was therefore forced to abandon its intended route (along with some of its precious hongo) and seek an alternative direction.
Truly, we are most humbled!
Position
|
Faction
|
Played
|
Won
|
Lost
|
Hongos Gained
|
Hongos Lost
|
Hongo Total
|
1
|
“Turks”
|
1
|
1
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
6
|
2
|
Zanzibar
|
2
|
1
|
1
|
1
|
1
|
5
|
2
|
Ngoni
|
2
|
1
|
1
|
1
|
1
|
5
|
4
|
Ruga-Ruga
|
1
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
1
|
4
|
*Late 1860. Probably supper time.
**The O'Swald Trading Company, Shangani Street, Stone Town, Zanjibaar. In future we shall take our custom to the Tharia Topan Trading Company, No. 22 Hamami Street.
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