But this fortuitous concourse of English rifles cannot be reckoned

upon every day; nor is it the part of the missionary and the trader

to play the game of war. The one thing needed for Africa at present

is some system of organized protection to the native, and the

decisive breaking of the Arab influence throughout the whole

interior. These events at Lake Nyassa have brought this subject once

more before the civilized world, and I may briefly state the

situation as it at present stands.

Five years ago the British cruisers which had been for years engaged

in suppressing the slave-trade were tempted to relax their efforts.

They had done splendid service. The very sight of the great hull of

the _London_, as she rocked in the harbor of Zanzibar, had a pacific

influence; and as the caravans from the interior came and went at

intervals of years and found the cruiser's cannon still pointing to

their sultan's palace, they carried the fear of England over the

length and breadth of Africa. The slave-trade was seriously

discouraged, and, so far as the coast traffic was concerned, it was

all but completely arrested. What work, up to this point, was done,

was well done; but, after all, only half the task had ever been

attempted. It was not enough to stop the sewer at its mouth; its

sources in the heart of Africa should have been sought out and

purified. But now that even the menace at Zanzibar no longer

threatened the slavers, their work was resumed with redoubled energy.

The withdrawal of the _London_ was interpreted to mean either that

England conceived her work to be done or that she had grown apathetic

and would interfere no more.

The consequences were almost immediately disastrous. A new license

to devastate, to murder, and to enslave, was telegraphed all over

Africa, and speedily found expression, in widely separated parts of

the country, in horrors the details of which can never be known to

the civilized world. The disturbances on Lake Nyassa undoubtedly

belong, though indirectly, to this new category of crime. Already

the Arabs have learned that there is no one now to take them to task.

In one district after another they have played their game and won;

and with ample power, with absolute immunity from retribution, and

with the sudden creation of a new demand for slaves in a quarter of

which I dare not speak further here, their offenses can only increase

in number and audacity. It is remarkable in the Wa-Nkonde episode

that, for the first time probably in Central Africa, the Mohammedan

defiance to the Christian power was open and undisguised. Hitherto

the Arab worked in secret. The mere presence of a white man in the

country was sufficient to stay his hand. On this occasion the Arab

not only did not conceal his doings from the Europeans, nor flee when

he was remonstrated with, but turned and attacked his monitors. The

political significance of this is plain. It is part of a policy. It

is a challenge to Europe from the whole Mohammedan power. Europe in

Africa is divided; Mohammedanism is one. No isolated band of Arabs

would have ventured upon such a line of action unless they were

perfectly sure of their ground. Nor is there any reason why they

should not be sure of their ground. Europe is talking much about

Africa; it is doing nothing. This the Arab has discerned. It is one

of the most astounding facts in morals that England should have kept

the Arab at bay so long. But the time of probation is over. And the

plain issue is now before the world--Is the Arab or the European

henceforth to reign in Africa?

How the European could reign in Africa is a simple problem. The real

difficulty is as to who in Europe will do it. Africa is claimed by

everybody, and it belongs to nobody. So far as the Nyassa region is

concerned, while the Portuguese assert their right to the south and

west, scarcely one of them has ever set foot in it: and while the

Germans claim the north and east, their pretension is based neither

upon right of discovery, right of treaty, right of purchase, right of

conquest, nor right of possession, but on the cool audacity of some

chartographer in Berlin, who, in delineating a tract of country

recognized as German by the London Convention of 1886, allowed his

paint-brush to color some tens of thousands of square miles beyond

the latitude assigned. To England it is a small matter politically

who gets Africa. But it is of moment that those who secure the glory

of annexation should not evade the duty of administration. The

present condition of Africa is too critical to permit so wholesale a

system of absentee landlordism; and it is the duty of England, so far

at least as the Nyassa region is concerned, to insist on the various

claimants either being true to their assumed responsibilities or

abandoning a nominal sovereignty.

It is well known,--it is certain,--that neither Portugal nor Germany

will ever administer this region. If they would, the problem would

be solved, and England would gladly welcome the release; the release,

for, although England has never aided this country with a force of

arms, she has for some time known that in some way, direct or

indirect, she ought to do it. This country is, in a special sense,

the _protégé_ of England. Since Livingstone's death the burden of it

has never really left her conscience. The past relation of England

to Nyassa-land, and her duty now, will be apparent from the following

simple facts:--

Lake Nyassa was discovered by David Livingstone. At that time he was

acting as Her Majesty's Consul, and was sent to Africa with a

Government Expedition, which was equipped not to perform an

exceptional and romantic piece of work, but in accordance with a

settled policy on the part of England. "The main object of the

Zambesi Expedition," says Livingstone, "as our instructions from Her

Majesty's Government explicitly stated, was to extend the knowledge

already attained of the geography, and mineral and agricultural

resources, of Eastern and Central Africa; to improve our acquaintance

with the inhabitants, and to endeavor to engage them to apply

themselves to industrial pursuits, and to the cultivation of their

lands, with a view to the production of raw material to be exported

to England in return for British manufactures; and it was hoped that,

by encouraging the natives to occupy themselves in the development of

the resources of the country, a considerable advance might be made

towards the extinction of the slave-trade, as they would not be long

in discovering that the former would eventually be a more certain

source of profit than the latter. The Expedition was sent _in

accordance with the settled policy of the English Government_; and

the Earl of Clarendon being then at the head of the Foreign Office,

the Mission was organized under his immediate care. When a change of

Government ensued we experienced the same generous countenance and

sympathy from the Earl of Malmesbury as we had previously received

from Lord Clarendon; and on the accession of Earl Russell to the high

office he has so long filled we were always favored with equally

ready attention and the same prompt assistance. Thus _the conviction

was produced that our work embodied the principles not of any one

party, but of the hearts of the statesmen and of the people of

England generally._"

Encouraged by this national interest in Africa, the churches of

England and Scotland attempted to follow up the work of Livingstone

in one at least of its aspects, by sending missionaries into the

country. These have already succeeded in establishing themselves in

one district after another, and are daily extending in numbers and

influence.

In order to perpetuate a scarcely less important branch of the

movement initiated by Livingstone,--a department specially

sanctioned, as the above extract shows, by the English

Government--the African Lakes Company was formed in 1878. Its object

was to open up and develop the regions of East Central Africa from

the Zambesi to Tanganyika; to make employments for the native

peoples, to trade with them honestly, to keep out rum, and, so far as

possible, gunpowder and firearms, and to co-operate and strengthen

the hands of the missionary. It has already established twelve

trading stations, manned by a staff of twenty-five Europeans and many

native agents. The _Ilala_ on Lake Nyassa belongs to it; and it has

just placed a new steamer to supersede the _Lady Nyassa_ on the river

Shiré. It has succeeded in starting a flourishing coffee plantation

in the interior, and new sources of wealth are being gradually

introduced. For the first time, on the large scale, it has taught

the natives the meaning and the blessings of work. It has acted, to

some extent, as a check upon the slave-trade; it has prevented

inter-tribal strife, and helped to protect the missionaries in time

of war. The African Lakes Company, in short, modest as is the scale

on which it works, and, necessarily limited as are its opportunities,

has been for years the sole administering hand in this part of

Africa. This Company does not exist for gain;--or exists for gain

only in the sense that commercial soundness is the only solid basis

on which to build up an institution which can permanently benefit

others. A large amount of private capital has been expended by this

Company; yet, during all the years it has carried on its noble

enterprise, it has re-invested in Africa all that it has taken from

it.

All this British capital, all the capital of the Missions, all these

various and not inconsiderable agencies, have been tempted into

Africa largely in the hope that the old policy of England would not

only be continued but extended. England has never in theory departed

from the position she assumed in the days of the Zambesi Expedition.

On the contrary, she has distinctly recognized the relation between

her Government and Africa. She has continued to send out British

Consuls to be the successors of Livingstone in the Nyassa region.

When the first of these, Captain Foote, R.N., died in the Shiré

Highlands in 1884, the English Government immediately sent another to

take his place. But this is the last thing that has been done. The

Consul is there as a protest that England has still her eye on

Africa. But Africa needs more than an eye. And when, as happened

the other day, one of Her Majesty's representatives was under Arab

fire for five days and nights on the shores of Lake Nyassa, this was

brought home to us in such practical fashion as to lead to the hope

that some practical measures will now be taken.

I do not presume to bring forward a formal proposal; but two things

occur to one as feasible, and I shall simply name them. The first is

for England, or Germany, or France, or some one with power and

earnestness, to take a firm and uncompromising stand at Zanzibar.

Zanzibar, as the Arab capital, is one of the keys of the situation,

and any lesson taught here would be learned presently by the whole

Mohammedan following in the country.

The other key to the situation is the vast and splendid water-way in

the heart of Africa--the Upper Shiré, Lake Nyassa, Lake Tanganyika,

and the Great Lakes generally. As a base for military or patrol

operations nothing better could be desired than these great inland

seas. A small steamer upon each of them--or, to begin with, upon

Nyassa and Tanganyika--with an associated depôt or two of armed men

on the higher and healthier plateaux which surround them, would keep

the whole country quiet. Only a trifling force of well-drilled men

would be needed for this purpose. They might be whites, or blacks

and whites; they might be Sikhs or Pathans from India; and the

expense is not to be named considering the magnitude of the

results--the pacification of the entire equatorial region--that would

be achieved. That expense could be borne by the Missions, but it is

not their province to employ the use of force; it could be borne by

the Lakes Company, only they deserve protection from others rather

than that this should be added to the large debt civilization already

owes them; it could be done by the Free Congo State,--and if no one

else is shamed into doing it, this further labor of love may fall

into its hands. But whether alone, or in co-operation with the few

and overburdened capitalists of the country, or in conjunction with

foreign powers, England will be looked to to take the initiative with

this or a similar scheme.

The barriers in the way of Government action are only two, and

neither is insurmountable. The one is Portugal, which owns the

approaches to the country; the other is Germany, which has inland

interests of her own. Whether England could proceed in the face of

these two powers would simply depend on how it was done. As a mere

political move such an occupation of the interior might at once

excite alarm and jealousy. But wearing the aspect of a serious

mission for the good of Africa, instigated not by the Foreign Office

but by the people of England, it is impossible to believe that the

step could either be misunderstood or opposed. It is time the

nations looked upon Africa as something more than a chess-board. And

even if it were but a chess-board, the players on every hand are wise

enough to know that whatever is honestly done to relieve this

suffering continent will react in a hundred ways upon the interests

of all who hold territorial rights within it.

A beginning once made, one might not be unduly sanguine in

anticipating that the meshes of a pacific and civilizing influence

would rapidly spread throughout the country. Already the

missionaries are pioneering everywhere, prepared to slay and do their

part; and asking no more from the rest of the world than a reasonable

guarantee that they should be allowed to live. Already the trading

companies are there, from every nationality, and in every direction

ready to open up the country, but unable to go on with any confidence

or enthusiasm till their isolated interests are linked together and

secured in the presence of a common foe. The territories of the

various colonies are slowly converging upon the heart of Africa, and

to unite them in an informal defensive alliance would not be

impossible. With Emin Pasha occupying the field in the north; with

the African Lakes Company, the British East African Association, and

the German Association, in the east; with the Congo Free State in the

west, and British Bechuanaland in the south, a cordon is already

thrown around the Great Lakes region, which requires only to have its

several parts connected with one another and with central forces on

the Lakes, to secure the peace of Africa.

V.

WANDERINGS ON THE NYASSA-TANGANYIKA PLATEAU.

A TRAVELLER'S DIARY.

With a glade in the forest for a study, a bale of calico for a table,

and the sun vertical and something under a billion centigrade,

diary-writing in the tropics is more picturesque than inspiring. To

keep a journal, however, next to keeping his scalp, is the one thing

for which the consistent traveller will go through fire and water;

and the dusky native who carries the faded note-books on the march is

taught to regard the sacredness of his office more than if he drove

the car of Juggernaut. The contents of these mysterious note-books,

nevertheless, however precious to those who write them, are, like the

photographs of one's relations, of pallid interest to others, and I

have therefore conscientiously denied myself the joy of exhibiting

such offspring of the wilderness as I possess to my confiding reader.

But as the diary form has advantages of its own, I make no apology at

this stage for transcribing and editing a few rough pages. Better,

perhaps, than by a more ordered narrative, they may help others to

enter into the traveller's life, and to illustrate what the African

traveller sees and hears and does. I shall disregard names, and

consecutive dates, and routes. My object is simply to convey some

impression of how the world wags in a land unstirred by civilization,

and all but untouched by time.

_29th September_.--Left Karongas, at the north end of Lake Nyassa, at

10.30, with a mongrel retinue of seven Mandalla natives, twelve

Bandawé Atongas, six Chingus, and my three faithfuls--Jingo, Moolu,

and Seyid. Total twenty-eight. Not one of my men could speak a word

of English. They belonged to three different tribes and spoke as

many languages; the majority, however, knew something of Chinanja,

the lake language, of which I had also learned a little, so we soon

understood one another. It is always a wise arrangement to have

different tribes in a caravan, for in the event of a strike, and

there are always strikes, there is less chance of concerted action.

Each man carried on his head a portion of my purse--which in this

region consists solely of cloth and beads; while one or two of the

more dependable were honored with the transportation of the tent,

collecting-boxes, provisions, and guns.

The road struck into a banana grove, then through a flat country

fairly well wooded with a variety of trees, including many palms and

a few baobabs. The native huts dotted over this rich flat are the

best I have seen in Africa. The roofs are trimly thatched, and a

rude carving adorns door-post and lintel. After seven miles the

Rukuru is crossed--a fine stream rippling over the sand, with large

flakes of mica tumbling about in the current, and sampling the rocks

of the distant hills. The men laid down their loads, and sprawled

about like crocodiles in the water as I waded across. A few yards

off is a village, where a fire was quickly lit, and the entire

population turned out to watch the white man nibble his lunch. The

consumption at this meal being somewhat slight, and the menu strange

to my audience, I saw that they regarded the white man's effort at

nutrition with feelings of contempt. "The M'sungu eats nothing,"

whispered one, "he must die." The head man presently came asking

beads; but, as I had none unpacked, two stray trinkets and a spoonful

of salt more than satisfied him. On getting the salt he deftly

twisted a leaf into a little bag, and after pouring all the salt into

it, graciously held out his hand to a troop of small boys who crowded

round, and received one lick each of his empty palm. Salt is perhaps

the greatest luxury and the greatest rarity the north-end African can

have, and the avidity with which these young rascals received their

homœopathic allowance proved the instinctiveness of the want. I

have often offered native boys the choice between a pinch of salt and

a knot of sugar, and they never failed to choose the first. For

return-present the chief made over to me two large gourds filled with

curds, of which, of course, I pretended to drink deeply before

passing it on to the men.

Three miles of the same country, with tall bean-plants about, castor

oil, and maize, but no villages in sight. Bananas unusually fine,

and Borassus everywhere. At the tenth or eleventh mile we reached

the fringe of hills bordering the higher lands, and, taking advantage

of a passage about half a mile wide which has been cut by the river,

penetrated the first barrier--a low rounded hill of conglomerate,

fine in texture, and of a dark-red-color. Flanking this for two

miles, we entered a broad oval expansion among the hills, the site

apparently of a former lake. Winding along with the river for a mile

or two more, and passing through a narrow and romantic glen, we

emerged in a second valley, and camped for the night on the banks of

the stream. On the opposite side stood a few native huts, and the

occupants, after much reconnoitring, were induced to exchange some

_ufa_ and sweet potatoes for a little cloth.

_1st October_.--Moolu peered into my tent with the streak of dawn to

announce a catastrophe. Four of the men had run away during the

night. All was going so well yesterday that I flattered myself I was

to be spared this traditional experience--the most exasperating of

all the traveller's woes, for the whole march must be delayed until

fresh recruits are enlisted to carry the deserters' loads. The

delinquents were all Bandawé men. They had no complaint. They stole

nothing. It was a simple case of want of pluck. They were going

into a strange land. The rainy season was coming on. Their loads

were full-weight. So they got homesick and ran. I had three more

Bandawé men in the caravan, and, knowing well that the moment they

heard the news they would go and do likewise, I ordered them to be

told what had happened and then sent to my tent. In a few moments

they appeared; but what to say to them? Their dialect was quite

strange to me, and yet I felt I must impress them somehow. Like the

judge putting on the black cap, I drew my revolver from under my

pillow, and, laying it before me, proceeded to address them.

Beginning with a few general remarks on the weather, I first briefly

sketched the geology of Africa, and then broke into an impassioned

defence of the British Constitution. The three miserable

sinners--they had done nothing in the world--quaked like aspens. I

then followed up my advantage by intoning in a voice of awful

solemnity, the enunciation of the Forty-Seventh Proposition of

Euclid, and then threw my all into a blood-curdling _Quod erat

demonstrandum_. Scene two followed when I was alone; I turned on my

pillow and wept for shame. It was a prodigious piece of rascality,

but I cannot imagine anything else that would have done, and it

succeeded perfectly. These men were to the end the most faithful I

had. They felt thenceforth they owed me their lives; for, according

to African custom, the sins of their fellow-tribesmen should have

been visited upon them with the penalty of death.

Seyid and Moolu scoured the country at once for more carriers, but

met with blank refusals on every side. Many natives passed the camp,

but they seemed in unusual haste, and something of local importance

was evidently going on. We were not long in doubt as to its nature.

It was war. The Angoni were in force behind a neighboring hill, and

had already killed one man. This might have been startling, but I

treated it as a piece of gossip, until suddenly a long string of

armed and painted men appeared in sight and rushed past me at the

double. They kept perfect step, running in single file, their feet

adorned with anklets of rude bells which jingled in time and formed

quite a martial accompaniment. The center man held aloft a small red

and white flag, and each warrior carried a large shield and several

light barbed spears. The regiment was led by a fantastic looking

creature, who played a hideous slogan on a short pan-pipe. This main

body was followed at intervals by groups of twos and threes who had

been hastily summoned from their work, and I must say the whole

turnout looked very like business. The last of the warriors had

scarcely disappeared before another procession of a different sort

set in from the opposite direction. It consisted of the women and

children from the threatened villages farther up the valley. It was

a melting sight. The poor creatures were of all ages and sizes, from

the tottering grandmother to the week old infant. On their heads

they carried a miscellaneous collection of household gods, and even

the little children were burdened with a calabash, a grass-mat, a

couple of fowls, or a handful of sweet-potatoes. Probably the entire

effects of the villages were represented in these loads. Amongst the

fugitives were a few goats and one or two calves, and a troop of boys

brought up the rear driving before them a herd of cows. The poor

creatures quickened their pace as they passed my tent, and eyed me as

furtively as if I and my men had been a detachment from the Angoni

executing a flank movement. The hamlet opposite our camp, across the

river, which had gladdened us the night before with its twinkling

fires, its inhabitants sitting peacefully at their doors or fishing

in the stream, was already deserted--the men to fight, the woman to

flee for their lives they knew not whither. This is a common chapter

in African history. Except among the very largest tribes no man can

call his home his own for a month.

I was amazed at the way my men treated the affair. They lounged

about camp with the most perfect indifference. This was accounted

for by my presence. The mere presence of a white man is considered

an absolute guarantee of safety in remoter Africa. It is not his gun

or his imposing retinue; it is simply himself. He is not mortal, he

is a spirit. Had I not been there, or had I shown the white feather,

my men would have stampeded for Nyassa in a body. I had learned to

understand the feeling so thoroughly that the events of the morning

gave me no concern whatever, and I spent the day collecting in the

usual way.

It was impossible to go on and leave the loads; it was equally

impossible to get carriers at hand. So I despatched Seyid with a

letter to the station on the Lake requesting six or eight natives to

be sent from there. This meant a delay of two or three days at

least, which, with the rains so near, was serious for me.

Made a "fly" for the tent, collected, and read. One only feels the

heat when doing nothing. As the sun climbed to its zenith my men put

up for themselves the most enticing bowers. They were ingeniously

made with interlacing grasses and canes, and densely thatched with

banana leaves.

Tried twice to bake bread, with Jingo and Moolu as assistant cooks.

Both attempts dismal failures, so I had to draw on the biscuit-tins.

I have plenty of fowls, bought yesterday for beads. Maraya down with

fever. One of the carriers, Siamuka, who had been left behind sick,

straggled into camp, looking very ill indeed. Physicked him and gave

him four yards of cloth to wrap himself in. Towards sunset I began

to get anxious for news of battle. The arrival of the armed band

which had passed in the morning soon gratified me. There had been no

battle. There had been no Angoni. It was simply a scare--one of

those false alarms which people in these unsettled circumstances are

constantly liable to. All evening the women and children were

trooping back to their homes; and next morning our friends opposite

were smoking their pipes at the doors again, as if nothing had

happened.

_Tuesday, 2d October_--After morning cocoa had a walk with my hammer

to examine the sections in the valley. Back to a good breakfast,

cooked with all the art of Jingo, the real cook being at Karongas

with the flag of distress. Moolu ill. This is the third man down

with fever since we left the Lake. Bought some ufa and beans.

Dispensed needles, and bent pins for fish-hooks, among the men. Held

a great washing with Jingo. Towards the afternoon the reinforcements

arrived from Karongas. The chief was drunk, it appeared, when my

messenger reached him; but Mr. Munro at the Lake kindly sent me a

number of his own men.

Another of my carriers begged leave to dissolve our partnership, and

produced two youths whom he had beguiled into taking his load. His

plea was that he was in bad odor at Mweni-wanda, and was afraid to go

on. My own impression is that he found the load which he carried--on

his head, like all Africans--was spoiling the cut of his hair. Even

Africa has its exquisites, and this man was the swell all over. By

"all over," I mean, of course, all over his head, for as his hair is

his only clothing, except the bark loin cloth of which the cut cannot

well be varied, he had poured out the whole of his great soul upon

his coiffure. At the best the African's hair is about the length of

a toy-shop poodle's; but vanity can make even a fool creative, and

out of this scanty material and with extraordinary labor he had

compiled a masterpiece. First, heavily greased with ground-nut oil,

it was made up into small-sized balls like black-currants, and then

divided into symmetrical patterns, diamonds, circles, and parterres,

designed with the skill of a landscape-gardener. To protect this

work of art from nightly destruction, this gentleman always carried

with him a pillow of special make. It was constructed of wood, and

dangled conspicuously from his spear-head on the march. He sold it

to me ultimately for a yard of calico--and he certainly would not

sleep after the transaction till he had laid the foundations of

another.

_12th October_.--Got under weigh at early dawn. Much shirking and

dodging among the men for light loads. Formerly sudden and

suspicious fevers used to develop at this critical juncture--by a not

unaccountable coincidence among the men with the heaviest loads; but

my now well-known mixture, compounded of pepper, mustard, cold tea,

citrate of magnesia, Epsom salts, anything else that might be handy,

and a flavoring pinch of cinchona, has miraculously stayed the

epidemic. But I forgive these merry fellows everything for wasting

none of the morning coolness over toilet or breakfast. I need not

say the African never washes in the morning; but, what is of more

importance, he never eats, he rises suddenly from the ground where he

has lain like a log all night, gives himself a shake, shoulders his

load, and is off. Even at the mid-day halt he eats little; but, if

he can get it, will regale himself with a draught of water and a

smoke. This last is a perfunctory performance, and one pipe usually

serves for a dozen men. Each takes a whiff or two from the great

wooden bowl, then passes it to his neighbor, and the pipe seldom

makes a second round.

I often wondered how the natives produced a light when camping by

themselves, and at last resolved to test it. So when the usual

appeal was made to me for "motu," I handed them my vesta-box with a

single match in it. I generally struck the match for them, this

being considered a very daring experiment, and I felt pretty sure

they would make a mess of their one chance. It turned out as I

anticipated, and when they handed back the empty box, I looked as

abstracted and unapproachable as possible. After a little suspense,

one of them slowly drew from the sewn-up monkey skin, which served

for his courier-bag, a small piece of wood about three inches long.

With a spear-head he cut in it a round hole the size of a

threepenny-piece. Placing his spear-blade flat on the ground to

serve as a base, he stretched over it a scrap of bark-cloth torn from

his girdle, and then pinned both down with the perforated piece of

wood, which a second native held firmly in position. Next he

selected from among his arrows a slender stick of very hard wood,

inserted it vertically in the hole, and proceeded to twirl it round

with great velocity between his open palms. In less than half a

minute the tinder was smoking sulkily, and after a few more twirls it

was ready for further treatment by vigorous blowing, when it broke

into active flame. The fire originates, of course, in the small soft

piece of wood, from which sparks fall upon the more inflammable

bark-cloth at the bottom of the hole.

Our daily programme, on the march, was something like this. At the

first streak of dawn my tent was struck. There is no time for a

meal, for the cool early hour is too precious in the tropics to waste

over eating; but a hasty coffee while the loads were packing kept up

the tradition of breakfast. In twenty minutes the men were

marshalled, quarrels about an extra pound weight adjusted, and the

procession started. At the head of the column I usually walked

myself, partly to see the country better, partly to look out for

game, and partly, I suppose, because there was no one else to do it.

Close behind me came my own special valet--a Makololo--carrying my

geological hammer, water-bottle, and loaded rifle. The white man, as

a rule, carries nothing except himself and a revolver, and possibly a

double-awned umbrella, which, with a thick pith helmet, makes

sunstrokes impossible. Next Jingo marched the cook, a plausible

Mananja, who could cook little, except the version of where the

missing victuals went to. After the cook came another gentleman's

gentleman carrying a gun and the medicine chest, and after him the

rank and file, with another gun-bearer looking out for deserters at

the rear. From half-past five I usually trudged on till the sun made

moving torture, about ten or eleven. When I was fortunate enough to

find shade and water there was a long rest till three in the

afternoon, and an anomalous meal, followed by a second march till

sunset. The dreadful part of the day was the interval. Then

observations were made, and specimens collected and arranged, each

man having to fill a collecting-box before sunset. When this was

over there was nothing else to do that it was not too hot to do. It

was too hot to sleep, there was nothing to read, and no one to speak

to; the nearest post-office was a thousand miles off, and the only

amusement was to entertain the native chiefs, who used occasionally

to come with their followers to stare at the white man. These

interviews at first entertained one vastly, but the humbling

performances I had to go through became most intolerable. Think of

having to stand up before a gaping crowd of savages and gravely

button your coat--they had never seen a coat; or, wonder of wonders,

strike a match, or snap a revolver, or set fire to somebody's bark

clothes with a burning-glass. Three or four times a day often I had

to go through these miserable performances, and I have come home with

a new sympathy for sword-swallowers, fire-eaters, the man with the

iron jaw, and all that ilk.

The interview commenced usually with the approach of two or three

terror-stricken slaves, sent by the chief as a preliminary to test

whether or not the white man would eat them. Their presents, native

grains of some kind, being accepted, they concluded I was at least

partly vegetarian, and the great man with his courtiers, armed with

long spears, would advance and kneel down in a circle. A little

speechifying followed, and then my return presents were produced--two

or three yards of twopence-halfpenny calico; and if he was a very

great chief an empty Liebig pot or an old jam tin was also presented

with great ceremony. None of my instruments, I found, at all

interested these people--they were quite beyond them; and I soon

found that in my whole outfit there were not half a dozen things

which conveyed any meaning to them whatever. They did not know

enough even to be amazed. The greatest wonder of all perhaps was the

burning-glass. They had never seen glass before, and thought it was

_mazi_ or water, but why the _mazi_ did not run over when I put it in

my pocket passed all understanding. When the light focused on the

dry grass and set it ablaze their terror knew no bounds. "He is a

mighty spirit!" they cried, "and brings down fire from the sun."

This single remark contains the key to the whole secret of a white

man's influence and power over all uncivilized tribes. Why a white

man, alone and unprotected, can wander among these savage people

without any risk from murder or robbery is a mystery at home. But it

is his moral power, his education, his civilization. To the African

the white man is a supreme being. His commonest acts are miracles;

his clothes, his guns, his cooking utensils are supernatural.

Everywhere his word is law. He can prevent death and war if he but

speak the word. And let a single European settle, with fifty square

miles of heathen round him, and in a short time he will be their

king, their lawgiver, and their judge. I asked my men one day the

question point blank--"Why do you not kill me and take my guns and

clothes and beads?" "Oh," they replied, "we would never kill a

spirit." Their veneration for the white man indeed is sometimes most

affecting. When war is brewing, or pestilence, they kneel before him

and pray to him to avert it; and so much do they believe in his

omnipotence that an unprincipled man by trading on it, by simply

offering pins, or buttons or tacks, or pieces of paper, or anything

English, as charms against death, could almost drain a country of its

ivory--the only native wealth.

The real dangers to a traveller are of a simpler kind. Central

Africa is the finest hunting country in the world. Here are the

elephant, the buffalo, the lion, the leopard, the rhinoceros, the

hippopotamus, the giraffe, the hyæna, the eland, the zebra, and

endless species of small deer and antelope. Then the whole country

is covered with traps to catch these animals--deep pits with a jagged

stake rising up in the middle, the whole roofed over with turf and

grass, so exactly like the forest bed that only the trained eye can

detect their presence. I have found myself walking unconsciously on

a narrow neck between two of these pits, when a couple of steps to

either side would almost certainly have meant death. Snakes too, and

especially the hideous and deadly puff adder, may turn up at any

moment; and in bathing, which one eagerly does at every pool, the

sharpest lookout is scarcely a match for the diabolical craft of the

crocodile.

_13th October_.--Walking through the forest to-day some distance

ahead of my men, I suddenly came upon a rhinoceros. The

creature--the rhino is solitary in his habits--was poking about the

bush with its head down and did not see me, though not ten yards

separated us. My only arms were a geological hammer and a revolver,

so I had simply to lie down and watch him. Presently my gun-bearer

crawled up, but unfortunately by this time the pachyderm had

vanished, and was nowhere to be found. I broke my heart over it at

the moment, though why in the world I should have killed him I do not

in the least know now. In cold blood one resents Mr. Punch's typical

Englishman--"What a heavenly morning! let's go and kill something!"

but in the presence of temptation one feels the veritable savage.

We are now at an elevation of about four thousand feet, and steadily

nearing the equator, although the climate gives little sign of it.

It is a popular mistake that the nearer one goes to the equator the

temperature must necessarily increase. Were this so, Africa, which

is the most tropical continent in the world, would also be the

hottest; while the torrid zone, which occupies so large a portion of

it, would be almost insupportable to the European. On the contrary,

the nearer one goes to the equator in Africa it becomes the cooler.

The reasons for this are twofold--the gradual elevation of the

continent towards the interior, and the increased amount of aqueous

vapor in the air. Central Africa is from three to five thousand feet

above the level of the sea. Now for every three hundred feet of

ascent the thermometer falls one degree. It is immensely cooler,

therefore, in the interior than at the coast; and the equatorial zone

all over the world possesses a climate in every way superior to that

of the borders of the temperate region. At night, in Equatorial

Africa, it is really cold, and one seldom lies down in his tent with

less than a couple of blankets and a warm quilt. The heat of New

York is often greater than that of Central Africa; for while in

America a summer rarely passes without the thermometer reaching three

figures, in the hottest month in Africa my thermometer never

registered more than two on a single occasion--the highest actual

point reached being 96°. Nowhere, indeed, in Africa have I

experienced anything like the heat of a summer in Malta, or even of a

stifling August in Southern Germany or Italy. On the other hand, the

direct rays of the sun are necessarily more powerful in Africa; but

so long as one keeps in the shade--and even a good umbrella suffices

for this--there is nothing in the climate to disturb one's peace of

mind or body. When one really feels the high temperature is when

down with fever; or when fever, unknown to one, is coming on. Then,

indeed, the heat becomes maddening and insupportable; nor has the

victim words to express his feelings towards the glittering ball,

whose daily march across the burnished and veilless zenith brings him

untold agony.

_15th to 22d October_.--This camp is so well situated that I have

spent the week in it. The programme is the same every day. At dawn

Jingo came to my tent with early coffee. Went out with my gun for a

morning stroll, and returned in an hour for breakfast. Thereafter I

sorted the specimens captured the day before, and hung up the fatter

insects to dry in the sun. Routing the ants from the boxes and

provision stores was also an important and vexatious item. Some ants

are so clever that they can break into every thing, and others so

small that they will crawl into anything; and between the clever

ones, and the small ones, and the jam-loving ones, and the

flour-eating ones and the specimen-devouring ones, subsistence, not

to say science, is a serious problem. The only things that have

hitherto baffled them are the geological specimens; but I overhaul

these regularly every morning along with the rest, in terror of one

day finding some precocious creature browsing off my granites. After

these labors I repaired to a natural bower in the dry bed of a shaded

streamlet, where I spent the entire day. Here, even at high noon,

was perfect coolness, and rest, and solitude unutterable. I lay

among birds and beasts and flowers and insects, watching their ways,

and trying to enter into their unknown lives. To watch

uninterruptedly the same few yards of universe unfold its complex

history; to behold the hourly resurrection of new living things, and

miss no change or circumstance, even of its minuter parts; to look at

all, especially the things you have seen before, a hundred times, to

do all with patience and reverence--this is the only way to study

nature.

Towards the afternoon the men began to drop in with their boxes of

insects, each man having to collect a certain number every camp-day.

If sufficient were not brought in the delinquent had to go back to

the bush for more. At five or six I went back to my tent for dinner,

and after an hour over the camp-fire turned in for the night. The

chattering of the men all round the tent usually kept me awake for an

hour or two. Their merriest time is just after sunset, when the

great ufa-feast of the day takes place. The banter between the fires

is kept up till the small hours, and the chief theme of conversation

is always the white man himself--what the whit man did, and what the

white man said, and how the white man held his gun, and everything

else the white man thought, looked, willed, wore, ate, or drank. My

object in being there was an insoluble riddle to them, and for what

witchcraft I collected all the stones and insects was an unending

source of speculation.

That they entered to some extent into one at least of these interests

was proved that very night. I was roused rather late by a

deputation, who informed me that they had just discovered a very

uncommon object crawling on a stick among the firewood. Going out to

the fire and stirring the embers into a blaze, I was shown one of the

most extraordinary insects it has been my lot to look upon. Rather

over two inches in length, the creature lay prone upon a branch,

adroitly shamming death, after the manner of the _Mantidæ_, to which

it obviously belonged. The striking feature was a glittering

coal-black spiral, with a large central spot of the same color,

painted on the middle of the back; the whole resembling a gigantic

eye, staring out from the body, and presenting the most vivid

contrast to the lemon yellows and greens of the rest of the insect.

One naturally sought a mimetic explanation of the singular marking,

and I at once recalled a large fringed lichen which covered many of

the surrounding trees, and of which this whole insect was a most apt

copy. That it was as rare as it was eccentric was evident from the

astonishment of the natives, who declared that they had never seen it

before.

_22d October_.--Water has been scarce for some days, and this morning

our one pool was quite dried up, so I struck camp. Marching

northwest, over an undulating forest country, we came to a small

village, near which was a running stream. The chief, an amiable old

gentleman, after an hour spent in suspicious prospecting, came to see

the show, and propitiated its leading actor with a present of flour.

In return I gave him some cloth and an empty magnesia bottle to hold

his snuff. The native snuff-mull is a cylinder of wood profusely

carved, and, in the absence of a pocket, hangs tied round the neck

with a thong. Snuffing is universal hereabouts.

This is a hotter camp than the last, though the elevation (4500 feet)

is nearly the same. Paid the men their fortnight's wage in cloth,

and as I threw in an extra fathom they held high revelry till far on

in the night.

_24th October_.--Buffalo fever still on. Sallied forth early with

Moolu, a large herd being reported at hand. We struck the trail

after a few miles, but the buffaloes had moved away, passing up a

steep valley to the north and clearing a hill. I followed, but saw

no sign, and after one or two unsuccessful starts gave it up, as the

heat had become terrific. Breakfasted off wild honey, which one of

the natives managed to lay hands on, and sent for the camp to come

up. Moolu went on with one native, T'Shaula--he of the great spear

and the black feathers. They returned about two o'clock announcing

that they had dropped two bull buffaloes, but not being mortally

wounded the quarry had made off. Late in the afternoon two of my men

rushed in saying that one of the wounded buffaloes had attacked two

of their number, one severely, and that assistance was wanted to

carry them back. It seems that five of the men, on hearing Moolu's

report about the wounded buffaloes, and tempted by the thought of

fresh meat, set off without permission to try to secure them. It was

a foolhardy freak, as they had only a spear with them, and a wounded

buffalo bull is the most dangerous animal in Africa. It charges

blindly at anything, and even after receiving its mortal wound has

been known to kill its assailant. The would-be hunters soon overtook

one of the creatures, a huge bull, lying in a hollow, and apparently

_in articulo mortis_. They calmly walked up to it--the maddest thing

in the world--when the brute suddenly roused itself and charged

headlong. They ran for their lives; one was overtaken and trampled

down in a moment; the second was caught up a few yards farther on and

literally impaled on the animal's horns. The first hobbled into camp

little the worse, but the latter was brought in half dead. He had

two frightful wounds, the less serious on the back behind the

shoulder-blade, the other a yawning gash just under the ribs. I

fortunately had a little lint and dressed his wounds as well as I

could, but I thought he would die in my hands. He was quite

delirious, and I ordered a watch all night in case the bleeding

should break out afresh. His nurses unhappily could not take in the

philosophy of this, and I had to turn out every hour to see that they

were not asleep. The native's conception of pain is that it is the

work of an evil spirit, and the approved treatment consists in

blowing upon the wound and suspending a wooden charm from the

patient's neck to exorcise it. All this was duly done now, and the

blowing was repeated at frequent intervals through the night.

_25th October_.--Kacquia conscious, and suffering much. It is

impossible to go on, so the men have rigged up a bower for me on the

banks of a stream near the camp. Read, wrote, physicked right and

left, and received the Chief of Something-or-other. Bribed some of

his retinue to search the district for indiarubber, and bring

specimens of the trees. After many hours' absence they brought me

back two freshly-made balls, but neglected to bring a branch, which

was what I promised to pay them for. From their description I gather

the tree is the Landolphia vine. The method of securing the rubber

is to make incisions in the stem and smear the exuding milky juice

over their arms and necks. After it has dried a little they scrape

it off and roll it up into balls.

An instance of what the native will do for a scrap of meat. Near

camp this morning Moolu pointed out to me a gray lump on the top of a

very high tree, which he assured me was an animal. It was a kind of

lemur, and very good to eat. I had only my Winchester with me, and

the ball ripped up the animal, which fell at once, but leaving an

ounce or two of viscera on the branch. One of the men, Makata,

coming up at the sound of the shot, perceived that the animal was not

all there--it had been literally "cleaned"--immediately started to

climb the tree for the remainder. It was a naked stem for a

considerable height and thicker than himself, but he attacked it at

once native fashion, _i.e._, by walking up the trunk, his clasped

hands grasping the trunk on the opposite side from his doubled-up

body, and literally walking upward on his soles. He soon came down

with the precious mess, and in a few minutes it was cooked and eaten.

To-night I thought my hour was come. Our camp was right in the

forest; it was pitch dark; and I was sitting late over the

smouldering fire with the wounded man. Suddenly a terrific yell rang

out from the forest, and a native rushed straight at me brandishing

his spear and whooping at the pitch of his voice. Sure that it was

an attack, I darted towards the tent for my rifle, and in a second

every man in the camp was huddling in it likewise. Some dashed in

headlong by the door, others under the canvas, until there was not

room to crawl among their bodies. Then followed--nothing. First an

awful silence, then a whispering, then a mighty laughter, and then

the whole party sneaked out of the fort and yelled with merriment.

One of my own men had crept out a few yards for firewood; he had seen

a leopard, and lost control of himself--that was all. It was hard to

say who was most chaffed about it; but I confess I did not realize

before how simple a business it would have been for any one who did

not approve of the white man to exterminate him and his caravan.

_Sunday, 28th October_.--My patient holding on; will now probably

pull through. As he has to be fed on liquids, my own fowls have all

gone in chicken soup. Fowls are now very scarce, and my men, taking

advantage of the high premium and urgent demand, have gone long

distances to get them. They will not supply them to the invalid, but

sell them to me to give him. Wishing to teach them a lesson in

philanthropy, I declined to buy any more on these terms; and after

seeing me go three days dinnerless to give Kacquia his chance of life

they became ashamed of themselves, and handed me all the fowls they

had in a present. This was a prodigious effort for a native, and

proves him capable of better things. The whole camp had been

watching this byplay for a day or two, and the finish did good all

round--more especially as I gave a return present, after a judicious

interval, worth five times what had been given me.

Held the usual service in the evening--a piece of very primitive

Christianity. Moolu, who had learned much from Dr. Laws, undertook

the sermon, and discoursed with great eloquence on the Tower of

Babel. The preceding Sunday he had waxed equally warm over the Rich

Man and Lazarus; and his description of the Rich Man in terms of

native ideas of wealth--"plenty of calico and plenty of beads"--was a

thing to remember. "Mission-blacks," in Natal and at the Cape, are a

byword among the unsympathetic; but I never saw Moolu do an

inconsistent thing. He could neither read nor write; he knew only

some dozen words of English; until seven years ago he had never seen

a white man; but I could trust him with everything I had. He was not

"pious"; he was neither bright nor clever; he was a commonplace

black; but he did his duty and never told a lie. The first night of

our camp, after all had gone to rest, I remember being roused by a

low talking. I looked out of my tent; a flood of moonlight lit up

the forest; and there, kneeling upon the ground, was a little group

of natives, and Moolu in the centre conducting evening prayers.

Every night afterwards this service was repeated, no matter how long

the march was nor how tired the men. I make no comment. But this I

will say--Moolu's life gave him the right to do it. Mission reports

are often said to be valueless; they are less so than anti-mission

reports. I believe in missions, for one thing, because I believe in

Moolu.

But I need not go on with this itinerary. It is very much the same

thing over again. For some time yet you must imagine the curious

procession I have described wandering hither and thither among the

wooded mountains and valleys of the table-land, and going through the

same general programme. You might have seen its chief getting

browner and browner in the tropical sun, his clothes getting raggeder

and raggeder, his collecting-boxes becoming fuller and fuller, and

his desire to get home again growing stronger and stronger. Then you

might have seen the summer end and the tropical rains begin, and the

whole country suddenly clothe itself with living green. And then, as

the season advanced, you might have seen him plodding back to the

Lake, between the attacks of fever working his way down the Shiré and

Zambesi, and so, after many days, greeting the new spring in England.

VI.

THE WHITE ANT.

A THEORY.

A few years ago, under the distinguished patronage of Mr. Darwin, the

animal in vogue with scientific society was the worm. At present the

fashionable animal is the ant. I am sorry, therefore, to have to

begin by confessing that the insect whose praises I propose to sing,

although bearing the honored name, is not entitled to consideration

on account of its fashionable connections, since the white ant, as an

ant, is an impostor. It is, in fact, not an ant at all, but belongs

to a much humbler family--that of the _Termitidæ_--and so far from

ever having been the vogue, this clever but artful creature is hated

and despised by all civilized peoples. Nevertheless, if I mistake

not, there is neither among the true ants, nor among the worms, an

insect which plays a more wonderful or important part in nature.

[Illustration: NEST OF THE WHITE ANT. 1, Male. 2, 4, 5, Neuters.

3, Gravid Female.]

Fully to appreciate the beauty of this function, a glance at an

apparently distant aspect of nature will be necessary as a

preliminary.

When we watch the farmer at work, and think how he has to plough,

harrow, manure, and humor the soil before even one good crop can be

coaxed out of it, we are apt to wonder how nature manages to secure

her crops and yet dispense with all these accessories. The world is

one vast garden, bringing forth crops of the most luxuriant and

varied kind century after century, and millennium after millennium.

Yet the face of nature is nowhere furrowed by the plough, no harrow

disintegrates the clods, no lime and phosphates are strewn upon its

fields, no visible tillage of the soil improves the work on the great

world's farm.

Now, in reality, there cannot be crops, or successions of crops,

without the most thorough agriculture; and when we look more closely

into nature we discover a system of husbandry of the most surprising

kind. Nature does all things unobtrusively; and it is only now that

we are beginning to see the magnitude of these secret agricultural

operations by which she does already all that man would wish to

imitate, and to which his most scientific methods are but clumsy

approximations.

In this great system of natural husbandry nature uses agencies,

implements, and tools of many kinds. There is the disintegrating

frost, that great natural harrow, which bursts asunder the clods by

the expansion during freezing of the moisture imprisoned in their

pores. There is the communistic wind which scatters broadcast over

the fields the finer soil in clouds of summer dust. There is the

rain which washes the humus into the hollows, and scrapes bare the

rocks for further denudation. There is the air which, with its

carbonic acid and oxygen, dissolves and decomposes the stubborn

hills, and manufactures out of them the softest soils of the valley.

And there are the humic acids, generated through decay, which filter

through the ground and manure and enrich the new-made soils.

But this is not all, nor is this enough; to prepare a surface film,

however rich, and to manure the soil beneath, will secure one crop,

but not a succession of crops. There must be a mixture and

transference of these layers, and a continued mixture and

transference, kept up from age to age. The lower layer of soil,

exhausted with bringing forth, must be transferred to the top for

change of air, and there it must lie for a long time, increasing its

substance, and recruiting its strength among the invigorating

elements. The upper film, restored, disintegrated, saturated with

fertility and strength, must next be slowly lowered down again to

where the rootlets are lying in wait for it, deep in the under soil.

Now how is this last change brought about? Man turns up the crust

with the plough, throwing up the exhausted earth, down the refreshed

soil, with infinite toil and patience. And nature does it by natural

ploughmen who, with equal industry, are busy all over the world

reversing the earth's crust, turning it over and over from year to

year, only much more slowly and much more thoroughly, spadeful by

spadeful, foot by foot, and even grain by grain. Before Adam delved

the Garden of Eden these natural agriculturists were at work,

millions and millions of them in every part of the globe, at

different seasons and in different ways, tilling the world's fields.

According to Mr. Darwin, the animal which performs this most

important function in nature is the earthworm. The marvellous series

of observations by which the great naturalist substantiated his

conclusion are too well known for repetition. Mr. Darwin calculates

that on every acre of land in England more than ten tons of dry earth

are passed through the bodies of worms and brought to the surface

every year; and he assures us that the whole soil of the country must

pass and repass through their bodies every few years. Some of this

earth is brought up from a considerable depth beneath the soil, for,

in order to make its subterranean burrow, the animal is compelled to

swallow a certain quantity of earth. It eats its way, in fact, to

the surface, and there voids the material in a little heap. Although

the proper diet of worms is decaying vegetable matter, dragged down

from the surface in the form of leaves and tissues of plants, there

are many occasions on which this source of aliment fails, and the

animal has then to nourish itself by swallowing quantities of earth,

for the sake of the organic substances it contains. In this way the

worm has a twofold inducement to throw up earth. First, to dispose

of the material excavated from its burrow; and, second, to obtain

adequate nourishment in times of famine. "When we behold a wide,

turf-covered expanse," says Mr. Darwin, "we should remember that its

smoothness, on which so much of its beauty depends, is mainly due to

all the inequalities having been slowly levelled by worms. It is a

marvellous reflection that the whole of the superficial mould over

any such expanse has passed, and will again pass, every few years,

through the bodies of worms. The plough is one of the most ancient

and most valuable of man's inventions; but long before he existed the

land was, in fact, regularly ploughed by earthworms. It may be

doubted whether there are many other animals which have played so

important a part in the history of the world as have these lowly

organized creatures."*

*_Vegetable Mould and Earth Worms_, p. 313.

Now, without denying the very important contribution of the earthworm

in this respect, a truth sufficiently endorsed by the fact that the

most circumstantial of naturalists has devoted a whole book to this

one animal, I would humbly bring forward another claimant to the

honor of being, along with the worm, the agriculturist of nature.

While admitting to the fullest extent the influence of worms in

countries which enjoy a temperate and humid climate, it can scarcely

be allowed that the same influence is exerted, or can possibly be

exerted, in tropical lands. No man was less in danger of taking a

provincial view of nature than Mr. Darwin, and in discussing the

earthworm he has certainly collected evidence from different parts of

the globe. He refers, although sparingly, and with less than his

usual wealth of authorities, to worms being found in Iceland, in

Madagascar, in the United States, Brazil, New South Wales, India, and

Ceylon. But his facts, with regard especially to the influence, on

the large scale, of the worm in warm countries, are few or wholly

wanting. Africa, for instance, the most tropical country in the

world, is not referred to at all; and where the activities of worms

in the tropics are described, the force of the fact is modified by

the statement that these are only exerted during the limited number

of weeks of the rainy season.

[Illustration: A, Male. B, Worker. C, Soldier. D, Fecundated

Female of Termes bellicosus, natural size, surrounded by "Workers."]

The fact is, for the greater portion of the year in the tropics the

worm cannot operate at all. The soil, baked into a brick by the

burning sun, absolutely refuses a passage to this soft and delicate

animal. All the members of the earthworm tribe, it is true, are

natural skewers, and though boring is their supreme function, the

substance of these skewers is not hardened iron, and the pavement of

a tropical forest is quite as intractable for nine months in the year

as are the frost-bound fields to the farmer's ploughshare. During

the brief period of the rainy season worms undoubtedly carry on their

function in some of the moister tropical districts; and in the

sub-tropical regions of South America and India, worms, small and

large, appear with the rains in endless numbers. But on the whole

the tropics proper seem to be poorly supplied with worms. In Central

Africa, though I looked for them often, I never saw a single worm.

Even when the rainy season set in, the closest search failed to

reveal any trace either of them or of their casts. Nevertheless, so

wide is the distribution of this animal, that in the moister regions

even of the equatorial belt one should certainly expect to find it.

But the general fact remains. Whether we consider the comparative

poorness of their development, or the limited period during which

they can operate, the sustained performance of the agricultural

function by worms, over large areas in tropical countries, is

impossible.

Now as this agricultural function can never be dispensed with, it is

more than probable that nature will have there commissioned some

other animal to undertake the task. And there are several other

animals to whom this difficult and laborious duty might be entrusted.

There is the mole, for instance, with its wonderful spade-like feet,

that natural navvy, who shovels the soil about so vigorously, at

home; but against the burnt crust of the tropics even this most

determined of burrowers would surely turn the edge of his nails. The

same remark applies to those curious little geologists the marmots

and skipmunks, which one sees throwing up their tiny heaps of sand

and gravel on the American prairies. And though the torrid zone

boasts of a strong-limbed and almost steel-shod creature, the

ant-bear, his ravages are limited to the destruction of the nests of

ants; and however much this somewhat scarce animal contributes to the

result, we must look in another direction for the true tropical

analogue of the worm.

The animal we are in search of, and which I venture to think equal to

all the necessities of the case, is the termite or white ant. It is

a small insect, with a bloated, yellowish-white body, and a somewhat

large thorax, oblong-shaped, and colored a disagreeable oily brown.

The flabby, tallow-like body makes this insect sufficiently

repulsive, but it is for quite another reason that the white ant is

the worst abused of all living vermin in warm countries. The termite

lives almost exclusively upon wood; and the moment a tree is cut or a

log sawn for any economical purpose, this insect is upon its track.

One may never see the insect, possibly, in the flesh, for it lives

underground; but its ravages confront one at every turn. You build

your house, perhaps, and for a few months fancy you have pitched upon

the one solitary site in the country where there are no white ants.

But one day suddenly the door-post totters, and lintel and rafters

come down together with a crash. You look at a section of the

wrecked limbers, and discover that the whole inside is eaten clean

away. The apparently solid logs of which the rest of the house is

built are now mere cylinders of bark, and through the thickest of

them you could push your little finger. Furniture, tables, chairs,

chests of drawers, everything made of wood, is inevitably attacked,

and in a single night a strong trunk is often riddled through and

through, and turned into matchwood. There is no limit, in fact, to

the depredation by these insects, and they will eat books, or

leather, or cloth, or anything; and in many parts of Africa I believe

if a man lay down to sleep with a wooden leg it would be a heap of

sawdust in the morning. So much feared is this insect now, that no

one in certain parts of India and Africa ever attempts to travel with

such a thing as a wooden trunk. On the Tanganyika plateau I have

camped on ground which was as hard as adamant, and as innocent of

white ants apparently as the pavement of St. Paul's, and wakened next

morning to find a stout wooden box almost gnawed to pieces. Leather

portmanteaus share the same fate, and the only substances which seem

to defy the marauders are iron and tin.

[Illustration: THE MOUNDS OF THE WHITE ANT.]

But what has this to do with earth or with agriculture? The most

important point in the work of the white ant remains to be noted. I

have already said that the white ant is never seen. Why he should

have such a repugnance to being looked at is at first sight a

mystery, seeing that he himself is stone blind. But his coyness is

really due to the desire for self-protection, for the moment his

juicy body shows itself above ground there are a dozen enemies

waiting to devour it. And yet the white ant can never procure any

food until it comes above ground. Nor will it meet the case for the

insect to come to the surface under the shadow of night. Night in

the tropics, so far as animal life is concerned, is as the day. It

is the great feeding time, the great fighting time, the carnival of

the carnivores, and of all beasts, birds, and insects of prey from

the least to the greatest. It is clear then that darkness is no

protection to the white ant; and yet without coming out of the ground

it cannot live. How does it solve the difficulty? It takes the

ground out along with it. I have seen white ants working on the top

of a high tree, and yet they were underground. They took up some of

the ground with them to the tree-top; just as the Esquimaux heap up

snow, building it into the low tunnel-huts in which they live, so the

white ant collects earth, only in this case not from the surface but

from some depth underneath the ground, and plaster it into tunnelled

ways. Occasionally these run along the ground, but more often mount

in endless ramifications to the top of trees, meandering along every

branch and twig, and here and there debouching into large covered

chambers which occupy half the girth of the trunk. Millions of trees

in some districts are thus fantastically plastered over with tubes,

galleries, and chambers of earth, and many pounds weight of subsoil

must be brought up for the mining of even a single tree. The

building material is conveyed by the insects up a central pipe with

which all the galleries communicate, and which at the downward end

connects with a series of subterranean passages leading deep into the

earth. The method of building the tunnels and covered ways is as

follows:--At the foot of a tree the tiniest hole cautiously opens in

the ground close to the bark. A small head appears with a grain of

earth clasped in its jaws. Against the tree-trunk this earth-grain

is deposited, and the head is withdrawn. Presently it reappears with

another grain of earth, this is laid beside the first, rammed tight

against it, and again the builder descends underground for more. The

third grain is not placed against the tree, but against the former

grain; a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth follow, and the plan of the

foundation begins to suggest itself as soon as these are in position.

The stones or grains or pellets of earth are arranged in a

semicircular wall, the termite, now assisted by three or four others,

standing in the middle between the sheltering wall and the tree, and

working briskly with head and mandible to strengthen the position.

The wall in fact forms a small moon-rampart, and as it grows higher

and higher it soon becomes evident that it is going to grow from a

low battlement into a long perpendicular tunnel running up the side

of the tree. The workers, safely ensconced inside, are now carrying

up the structure with great rapidity, disappearing in turn as soon as

they have laid their stone and rushing off to bring up another. The

way in which the building is done is extremely curious, and one could

watch the movement of these wonderful little masons by the hour.

Each stone as it is brought to the top is first of all covered with

mortar. Of course, without this the whole tunnel would crumble into

dust before reaching the height of half an inch; but the termite

pours over the stone a moist sticky secretion, turning the grain

round and round with its mandibles until the whole is covered with

slime. Then it places the stone with great care upon the top of the

wall, works it about vigorously for a moment or two till it is well

jammed into its place, and then starts off instantly for another load.

Peering over the growing wall, one soon discovers one, two, or more

termites of a somewhat larger build, considerably longer and with a

very different arrangement of the parts of the head, and especially

of the mandibles. These important-looking individuals saunter about

the rampart in the most leisurely way, but yet with a certain air of

business, as if perhaps the one was the master of works and the other

the architect. But closer observation suggests that they are in no

wise superintending operations, nor in any immediate way contributing

to the structure, for they take not the slightest notice either of

the workers or the works. They are posted there in fact as sentries,

and there they stand, or promenade about, at the mouth of every

tunnel, like sister Ann, to see if anybody is coming. Sometimes

somebody does come in the shape of another ant--the real ant this

time, not the defenceless _Neuropteron_, but some valiant and belted

knight from the warlike _Formicidæ_. Singly, or in troops, this

rapacious little insect, fearless in its chitinous coat of mail,

charges down the tree-trunk, its antennæ waving defiance to the

enemy, and its cruel mandibles thirsting for termite blood. The

worker white ant is a poor defenceless creature, and blind and

unarmed, would fall an immediate prey to these well-drilled banditti,

who forage about in every tropical forest in unnumbered legion. But

at the critical moment, like Goliath from the Philistines, the

soldier termite advances to the fight. With a few sweeps of its

scythe-like jaws it clears the ground, and while the attacking party

is carrying off its dead, the builders, unconscious of the fray,

quietly continue their work. To every hundred workers in a white ant

colony, which numbers many thousands of individuals, there are

perhaps two of these fighting men. The division of labor here is

very wonderful, and the fact that besides these two specialized forms

there are in every nest two other kinds of the same insect, the kings

and queens, shows the remarkable height to which civilization in

these communities has attained.

But where is this tunnel going to, and what object have the insects

in view in ascending this lofty tree? Thirty feet from the ground,

across innumerable forks, at the end of a long branch, are a few feet

of dead wood. How the ants know it is there, how they know its sap

has dried up, and that it is now fit for the termites' food, is a

mystery. Possibly they do not know, and are only prospecting on the

chance. The fact that they sometimes make straight for the decaying

limb argues in these instances a kind of definite instinct; but, on

the other hand, the fact that in most cases the whole tree, in every

branch and limb, is covered with termite tunnels, would show perhaps

that they work most commonly on speculation, while the number of

abandoned tunnels, ending on a sound branch in a _cul de sac_, proves

how often they must suffer the usual disappointments of all such

adventurers. The extent to which these insects carry on their

tunnelling is quite incredible until one has seen it in nature with

his own eyes. The tunnels are, perhaps, about the thickness of a

small-sized gas-pipe, but there are junctions here and there of large

dimensions, and occasionally patches of earthwork are found embracing

nearly the whole trunk for some feet. The outside of these tunnels,

which are never quite straight, but wander irregularly along stem and

branch, resembles in texture a coarse sandpaper; and the color,

although this naturally varies with the soil, is usually a reddish

brown. The quantity of earth and mud plastered over a single tree is

often enormous; and when one thinks that it is not only an isolated

specimen here and there that is frescoed in this way, but often the

whole of the trees of a forest, some idea will be formed of the

magnitude of the operations of these insects and the extent of their

influence upon the soil which they are thus ceaselessly transporting

from underneath the ground.

In travelling through the great forest of the Rocky Mountains or of

the Western States, the broken branches and fallen trunks strewing

the ground breast-high with all sorts of decaying litter frequently

make locomotion impossible. To attempt to ride through these western

forests, with their meshwork of interlocked branches and decaying

trunks, is often out of the question, and one has to dismount and

drag his horse after him as if he were clambering through a woodyard.

But in an African forest not a fallen branch is seen. One is struck

at first at a certain clean look about the great forests of the

interior, a novel and unaccountable cleanness, as if the forest-bed

was carefully swept and dusted daily by unseen elves. And so,

indeed, it is. Scavengers of a hundred kinds remove decaying animal

matter--from the carcase of a fallen elephant to the broken wing of a

gnat--eating it, or carrying it out of sight, and burying it on the

deodorizing earth. And these countless millions of termites perform

a similar function for the vegetable world, making away with all

plants and trees, all stems, twigs, and tissues, the moment the

finger of decay strikes the signal. Constantly in these woods one

comes across what appear to be sticks and branches and bundles of

faggots, but when closely examined they are seen to be mere casts in

mud. From these hollow tubes, which preserve the original form of

the branch down to the minutest knot or fork, the ligneous tissue is

often entirely removed, while others are met with in all stages of

demolition. Examine the section of an actual specimen, which is not

yet completely destroyed, and from which the mode of attack may be

easily seen. The insects start apparently from two centres. One

company attacks the inner bark, which is the favorite morsel, leaving

the coarse outer bark untouched, or more usually replacing it with

grains of earth, atom by atom, as they eat it away. The inner bark

is gnawed off likewise as they go along, but the woody tissue beneath

is allowed to remain to form a protective sheath for the second

company who begin work at the centre. This second contingent eats

its way outward and onward, leaving a thin tube of the outer wood to

the last, as props to the mine, till they have finished the main

excavation. When a fallen trunk lying upon the ground is the object

of attack, the outer cylinder is frequently left quite intact, and it

is only when one tries to drag it off to his camp-fire that he finds

to his disgust that he is dealing with a mere hollow tube a few lines

in thickness filled up with mud.

[Illustration: NESTS OF WHITE ANTS]

But the works above ground represent only a part of the labors of

these slow-moving but most industrious of creatures. The arboreal

tubes are only the prolongation of a much more elaborate system of

subterranean tunnels, which extend over large areas and mine the

earth sometimes to a depth of many feet or even yards.

The material excavated from these underground galleries and from the

succession of domed chambers--used as nurseries or granaries--to

which they lead, has to be thrown out upon the surface. And it is

from these materials that the huge ant-hills are reared, which form

so distinctive a feature of the African landscape. These heaps and

mounds are so conspicuous that they may be seen for miles, and so

numerous are they and so useful as cover to the sportsman, that

without them in certain districts hunting would be impossible. The

first things, indeed, to strike the traveller in entering the

interior are the mounds of the white ant, now dotting the plain in

groups like a small cemetery, now rising into mounds, singly or in

clusters, each thirty or forty feet in diameter and ten or fifteen in

height; or, again, standing out against the sky like obelisks, their

bare sides carved and fluted into all sorts of fantastic shapes. In

India these ant-heaps seldom attain a height of more than a couple of

feet, but in Central Africa they form veritable hills, and contain

many tons of earth. The brick houses of the Scotch mission-station

on Lake Nyassa have all been built out of a single ants' nest, and

the quarry from which the material has been derived forms a pit

beside the settlement some dozen feet in depth. A supply of bricks,

as large again, could probably still be taken from this convenient

depôt; and the missionaries on Lake Tanganyika and onwards to

Victoria Nyanza have been similarly indebted to the labors of the

termites. In South Africa the Zulus and Kaffirs pave all their huts

with white-ant earth; and during the Boer war our troops in

Praetoria, by scooping out the interior from the smaller

beehive-shaped ant-heaps, and covering the top with clay, constantly

used them as ovens. These ant-heaps may be said to abound over the

whole interior of Africa, and there are several distinct species.

The most peculiar as well as the most ornate, is a small variety from

one to two feet in height, which occurs in myriads along the shores

of Lake Tanganyika. It is built in symmetrical tiers, and resembles

a pile of small rounded hats, one above another, the rims depending

like eaves, and sheltering the body of the hill from rain. To

estimate the amount of earth per acre raised from the water-line of

the subsoil by white ants would not in some districts be an

impossible task; and it would be found, probably, that the quantity

at least equalled that manipulated annually in temperate regions by

the earthworm.

These mounds, however, are more than mere waste-heaps. Like the

corresponding region underground, they are built into a meshwork of

tunnels, galleries, and chambers, where the social interests of the

community are attended to. The most spacious of these chambers,

usually far underground, is very properly allocated to the head of

the society, the queen. The queen-termite is a very rare insect, and

as there are seldom more than one, or at most two, to a colony, and

as the royal apartments are hidden far in the earth, few persons have

ever seen a queen, and indeed most, if they did happen to come across

it, from its very singular appearance, would refuse to believe that

it had any connection with white ants. It possesses, indeed, the

true termite head, but there the resemblance to the other members of

the family stops, for the size of the head bears about the same

proportion to the rest of the body as does the tuft on his Glengarry

bonnet to a six-foot Highlander. The phenomenal corpulence of the

royal body in the case of the queen-termite is possibly due in part

to want of exercise, for once seated upon her throne she never stirs

to the end of her days. She lies there, a large, loathsome,

cylindrical package, two or three inches long, in shape like a

sausage, and as white as a bolster. Her one duty in life is to lay

eggs, and it must be confessed she discharges her function with

complete success, for in a single day her progeny often amounts to

many thousands, and for months this enormous fecundity never

slackens. The body increases slowly in size, and through the

transparent skin the long folded ovary may be seen, with the eggs,

impelled by a peristaltic motion, passing onward for delivery to the

workers who are waiting to carry them to the nurseries where they are

hatched. Assiduous attention, meantime, is paid to the queen by

other workers, who feed her diligently, with much self-denial

stuffing her with morsel after morsel from their own jaws. A guard

of honor in the shape of a few of the larger soldier-ants is also in

attendance as a last and almost unnecessary precaution. In addition,

finally, to the soldiers, workers, and queen, the royal chamber has

also one other inmate--the king. He is a very ordinary-looking

insect, about the same size as the soldiers, but the arrangement of

the parts of the head and body is widely different, and like the

queen he is furnished with eyes.

Let me now attempt to show the way in which the work of the termites

bears upon the natural agriculture and geology of the tropics.

Looking at the question from the large point of view, the general

fact to be noted is, that the soil of the tropics is in a state of

perpetual motion. Instead of an upper crust, moistened to a paste by

the autumn rains, and then baked hard as adamant in the sun; and an

under soil hermetically sealed from the air and light, and

inaccessible to all the natural manures derived from the

decomposition of organic matters--these two layers being eternally

fixed in their relations to one another--we have a slow and continued

transference of the layers always taking place. Not only to cover

their depredations, but to dispose of the earth excavated from the

underground galleries, the termites are constantly transporting the

deeper and exhausted soils to the surface. Thus there is, so to

speak, a constant circulation of earth in the tropics, a ploughing

and harrowing, not furrow by furrow and clod by clod, but pellet by

pellet and grain by grain.