Some idea of the extent to which the underlying earth of the tropical

forests is thus brought to the surface will have been gathered from

the facts already described; but no one who has not seen it with his

own eyes can appreciate the gigantic magnitude of the process.

Occasionally one sees a whole trunk or branch, and sometimes almost

an entire tree, so swathed in red mud that the bark is almost

completely concealed, the tree looking as if it had been taken out

bodily and dipped in some crystallizing solution. It is not only one

tree here and there that exhibits the work of the white ant, but in

many places the whole forest is so colored with dull red tunnels and

patches as to give a distinct tone to the landscape--an effect which,

at a little distance, reminds one of the _abend-roth_ in a pine

forest among the Alps. Some regions are naturally more favorable

than others to the operations of the termites; and to those who have

only seen them at work in India or in the lower districts of Africa

this statement may seem an exaggeration. But on one range of

forest-clad hills on the great plateau between Lake Nyassa and

Tanganyika I have walked for miles through trees, every one of which,

without exception, was ramified, more or less, with tunnels. The

elevation of this locality was about 5000 feet above the sea and the

distance from the equator some 9°; but nowhere else have I seen a

spot where the termites were so completely masters of the situation

as here. If it is the case that in these, the most elevated regions

of Central Africa, the termite colonies attain their maximum

development, the fact is of much interest in connection with the

geological and agricultural function which they seem to serve; for it

is here precisely, before the rivers have gathered volume, that

alluvium is most wanting; it is here that the tiny headwaters of

these same rivers collect the earth for subsequent distribution over

the distant plains and coasts; and though the white ant may itself

have no power, in the first instance, of creating soil, as a denuding

and transporting agent, its ministry can scarcely be exaggerated. If

this is its function in the economy of nature, it is certainly clear

that the insect to which this task is assigned is planted where, of

all places, it can most effectively fulfil the end.

The direct relation of the termites' work to denudation will still

further appear if we try to imagine the effect upon the accumulations

of earth pellets and grains of an ordinary rainy season. For two or

three months in the tropics, though intermittently, the rains lash

the forests and soils with a fury such as we, fortunately, have

little idea of. And though the earthworks, and especially the larger

ant-hills, have marvellous resisting properties, they are not

invulnerable, and must ultimately succumb to denuding agents. The

tunnels, being only required for a temporary purpose, are made

substantial enough only to last the occasion. And in spite of the

natural glue which cements the pellets of earth together, the

structure, as a whole, after a little exposure, becomes extremely

friable, and crumbles to pieces at a touch. When the earth-tubes

crumble into dust in the summer season the debris is scattered over

the country by the wind, and this way tends to increase and refresh

the soil. During the rains, again, it is washed into the rivulets

and borne away to fertilize with new alluvium the distant valleys, or

carried downward to the ocean, where, along the coast line, it "sows

the dust of continents to be." Herodotus, with equal poetic and

scientific truth, describes Egypt as "the gift of the Nile."

Possibly had he lived to-day he might have carried his vision farther

back still, and referred some of it to the labors of the humble

termites in the forest slopes about Victoria Nyanza.

VII.

MIMICRY.

THE WAYS OF AFRICAN INSECTS.

Mimicry is imposture in nature. Carlyle in his blackest visions of

"shams and humbugs" among human kind never saw anything so finished

in hypocrisy as the naturalist now finds in every tropical forest.

There are to be seen creatures, not singly, but in tens of thousands,

whose very appearance, down to the minutest spot and wrinkle, is an

affront to truth, whose every attitude is a pose for a purpose, and

whose whole life is a sustained lie. Before these masterpieces of

deception the most ingenious of human impositions are vulgar and

transparent. Fraud is not only the great rule of life in a tropical

forest, but the one condition of it.

Although the extraordinary phenomena of mimicry are now pretty

generally known to science, few workers have yet had the opportunity

of studying them in nature. But no study in natural history depends

more upon observation in the field; for while in the case of a few

mimetic forms--the _Heliconidæ_, for example--the imitated form is

also an insect, and the two specimens may be laid side by side in the

cabinet at home, the great majority of mimetic insects are imitations

of objects in the environment which cannot be brought into comparison

with them in the drawers of a museum. Besides this, it is not only

the form but the behavior of the mimetic insect, its whole habit and

habitat, that have to be considered; so that mere museum

contributions to mimicry are almost useless without the amplest

supplement from the field naturalist. I make no further apology,

therefore, for transcribing here a few notes bearing upon this

subject from journals written during a recent survey of a region in

the heart of Africa--the Nyassa-Tanganyika plateau--which has not yet

been described or visited by any naturalist.

The preliminaries of the subject can be mastered in a moment even by

the uninitiated, and I may therefore begin with a short preface on

animal coloring in general. Mimicry depends on resemblances between

an animal and some other object in its environment of which it is a

practical gain to the creature to be a more or less accurate copy.

The resemblance may be to any object, animate or inanimate. It may

be restricted to color, or it may extend to form, and even to habit;

but of these the first is by far the most important.

Apart from sexual selection, color in animals mainly serves two

functions. It is either "protective" or "warning." The object of

the first is to render the animal inconspicuous, the object of the

second is the opposite--to make it conspicuous. Why it should be an

object with some animals to be palpably exposed will be apparent from

the following familiar instance of "warning" coloration. There are

two great families of butterflies, the _Danaidæ_ and _Acraiedæ_,

which are inedible owing to the presence in their bodies of acrid and

unwholesome juices. Now to swallow one of these creatures--and

birds, monkeys, lizards, and spiders are very fond of

butterflies--would be gratuitous. It would be disappointing to the

eater, who would have to disgorge his prey immediately, and it would

be an unnecessary sacrifice of the subject of the experiment. These

butterflies, therefore, must have their disagreeableness in some way

advertised, and so they dress up with exceptional eccentricity,

distinguishing themselves by loud patterns and brilliant colorings,

so that the bird, the monkey, and the rest can take in the situation

at a glance. These animated danger-signals float serenely about the

forests with the utmost coolness in the broadest daylight,

leisureliness, defiance and self-complacency marking their every

movement, while their duskier brethren have to hurry through the

glades in terror of their lives. For the same reason, well-armed or

stinging insects are always conspicuously ornamented with warning

colors. The expense of eating a wasp, for instance, is too great to

lead to a second investment in the same insect, and wasps therefore

have been rendered as showy as possible so that they may be at once

seen and as carefully avoided. The same law applies to bees,

dragonflies, and other gaudy forms; and it may be taken as a rule

that all gayly-colored insects belong to one or other of these two

classes: that is, that they are either bad eating or bad-stingers.

Now the remarkable fact is that all these brilliant and unwholesome

creatures are closely imitated in outward apparel by other creatures

not themselves protected by acrid juices, but which thus share the

same immunity. That these are cases of mimicry is certain from many

considerations, not the least striking of which is that frequently

one of the sexes is protectively colored and not the other.

The brilliant coloring of poisonous snakes is sometimes set down by

naturalists to "warning," but the details of coloring among reptiles

have never been thoroughly worked out. The difficulty suggests

itself that if the vivid yellows and oranges of some snakes are meant

to warn off dangerous animals, the same conspicuousness would warn

off the animals on which the venomous forms prey. Thus, while being

hunted, a showy skin might be of advantage to the snake; in hunting

it would be an equal disadvantage. But when one watches on the spot

the manner in which snakes really do their hunting, it becomes

probable that the coloring, vivid and peculiar as it is, in most

cases is designed simply to aid concealment. One of the most

beautiful and ornate of all the tropical reptiles is the puff-adder.

This animal, the bite of which is certain death, is from three to

five feet long, and disproportionately thick, being in some parts

almost as thick as the lower part of the thigh. The whole body is

ornamented with strange devices in green, yellow, and black, and

lying in a museum its glittering coils certainly form a most striking

object. But in nature the puff-adder has a very different

background. It is essentially a forest animal, its true habitat

being among the fallen leaves in the deep shade of the trees by the

banks of streams. Now in such a position, at the distance of a foot

or two, its appearance so exactly resembles the forest bed as to be

almost indistinguishable from it. I was once just throwing myself

down under a tree to rest when, stooping to clear the spot, I noticed

a peculiar pattern among the leaves. I started back in horror to

find a puff-adder of the largest size, its thick back only visible,

and its fangs within a few inches of my face as I stooped. It was

lying concealed among fallen leaves so like itself that, but for the

exceptional caution which in African travel becomes a habit, I should

certainly have sat down upon it, and to sit down upon a puff-adder is

to sit down for the last time. I think this coloration in the

puff-adder is more than that of warning, and that this semi-somnolent

attitude is not always the mere attitude of repose. This reptile lay

lengthwise, concealed all but a few inches, among the withered

leaves. Now the peculiarity of the puff-adder is that it strikes

_backward_. Lying on the ground, therefore, it commands as it were

its whole rear, and the moment any part is touched, the head doubles

backward with inconceivable swiftness, and the poison-fangs close

upon their victim. The puff-adder in this way forms a sort of horrid

trap set in the woods which may be altogether unperceived till it

shuts with a sudden spring upon its prey.

But that the main function of coloring is protection may be decided

from the simplest observation of animal life in any part of the

world. Even among the larger animals, which one might suppose

independent of subterfuge and whose appearance anywhere but in their

native haunts suggests a very opposite theory, the harmony of color

with environment is always more or less striking. When we look, for

instance, at the coat of a zebra with its thunder-and-lightning

pattern of black and white stripes, we should think such a

conspicuous object designed to court rather than to elude attention.

But the effect in nature is just the opposite. The black and white

somehow take away the sense of a solid body altogether; the two

colors seem to blend into the most inconspicuous gray, and at close

quarters the effect is as of bars of light seen through the branches

of shrubs. I have found myself in the forest gazing at what I

supposed to be a solitary zebra, its presence betrayed by some motion

due to my approach, and suddenly realized that I was surrounded by an

entire herd which were all invisible until they moved. The

motionlessness of wild game in the field when danger is near is well

known; and every hunter is aware of the difficulty of seeing even the

largest animals though they are just standing in front of him. The

tiger, whose stripes are obviously meant to imitate the reeds of the

jungle in which he lurks, is nowhere found in Africa: but its

beautiful cousin, the leopard, abounds in these forests, and its

spotted pelt probably conveys the same sense of indistinctness as in

the case of the zebra. The hippopotamus seems to find the deep water

of the rivers--where it spends the greater portion of its time--a

sufficient protection; but the crocodile is marvellously concealed by

its knotted mud-colored hide, and it is often quite impossible to

tell at a distance whether the objects lying along the river banks

are alligators or fallen logs.

But by far the most wonderful examples of protective adjustments are

found where the further disguise of form is added to that of color,

and to this only is the term mimicry strictly applicable. The pitch

of intricate perfection to which mimicry has attained in an

undisturbed and unglaciated country like Central Africa is so

marvellous and incredible, that one almost hesitates to utter what

his eyes have seen. Before going to Africa I was of course familiar

with the accounts of mimetic insects to be found in the works of

Bates, Belt, Wallace, and other naturalists; but no description

prepares one in the least for the surprise which awaits him when

first he encounters these species in nature. My introduction to them

occurred on the borders of Lake Shirwa--one of the smaller and less

known of the great African lakes--and I shall record the incident

exactly as I find it in my notes. I had stopped one day among some

tall dry grass to mark a reading of the aneroid, when one of my men

suddenly shouted "Chirombo!" "Chirombo" means an inedible beast of

any kind, and I turned round to see where the animal was. The native

pointed straight at myself. I could see nothing, but he approached,

and pointing close to a wisp of hay which had fallen upon my coat,

repeated "Chirombo!" Believing that it must be some insect among the

hay, I took it in my fingers, looked over it, and told him pointedly

there was no "Chirombo" there. He smiled, and pointing again to the

hay, exclaimed "Moio!"--"It's alive!" The hay itself was the

Chirombo. I do not exaggerate when I say that that wisp of hay was

no more like an insect than my aneroid barometer. I had mentally

resolved never to be taken in by any of these mimetic frauds; I was

incredulous enough to suspect that the descriptions of Wallace and

the others were somewhat highly colored; but I confess to have been

completely stultified and beaten by the very first mimetic form I

met. It was one of that very remarkable family the _Phasmidæ_, but

surely nowhere else in nature could there be such another creature.

Take two inches of dried yellow grass-stalk, such as one might pluck

to run through the stem of a pipe; then take six other pieces nearly

as long and a quarter as thick; bend each in the middle at any angle

you like, stick them in three opposite pairs, and again at any angle

you like, upon the first grass stalk, and you have my Chirombo. When

you catch him, his limbs are twisted about at every angle, as if the

whole were made of one long stalk of the most delicate grass, hinged

in a dozen places, and then gently crushed up into a dishevelled

heap. Having once assumed a position, by a wonderful instinct he

never moves or varies one of his many angles by half a degree. The

way this insect keeps up the delusion is indeed almost as wonderful

as the mimicry itself; you may turn him about and over and over, but

he is mere dried grass, and nothing will induce him to acknowledge

the animal kingdom by the faintest suspicion of spontaneous movement.

All the members of this family have this power of shamming death; but

how such emaciated and juiceless skeletons should ever presume to be

alive is the real mystery. These Phasmidæ look more like ghosts than

living creatures, and so slim are they that, in trying to kill them

for the collecting-box, the strongest squeeze between finger and

thumb makes no more impression upon them than it would upon fine

steel wire, and one has to half-guillotine them against some hard

substance before any little life they have is sacrificed to science.

I examined after this many thousands of Phasmidæ, Mantidæ, and other

mimetic forms, and there is certainly in nature no more curious or

interesting study. These grass-stalk insects live exclusively among

the long grass which occurs in patches all over the forests, and

often reaches a height of eight or ten feet. During three-fourths of

the year it is dried by the sun into a straw-yellow color, and all

the insects are painted to match. Although yellow is the ground tone

of these grasses, they are variegated, and especially towards the

latter half of the year, in two ways. They are either tinged here

and there with red and brown, like the autumn colors at home, or they

are streaked and spotted with black mould or other markings, painted

by the finger of decay. All these appearances are closely imitated

by insects. To complete the deception, some have the antennæ

developed to represent blades of grass, which are often from one to

two inches in length, and stick out from the end of the body, one on

either side, like blades of grass at the end of a stalk. The

favorite attitude of these insects is to clasp a grass-stalk, as if

they were climbing a pole; then the body is compressed against the

stem and held in position by the two fore-limbs, which are extended

in front so as to form one long line with the body, and so mixed up

with the stalk as to be practically part of it. The four other legs

stand out anyhow in rigid spikes, like forks from the grass, while

the antennæ are erected at the top, like blades coming off from a

node, which the button-like head so well resembles. When one of

these insects springs to a new stalk of grass it will at once all but

vanish before your eyes. It remains there perfectly rigid, a

component part of the grass itself, its long legs crooked and

branched exactly like dried hay, the same in color, the same in

fineness, and quite defying detection. These blades, alike with

limbs and body, are variously colored according to season and

habitat. When the grasses are tinged with autumn tints they are the

same; and the colors run through many shades, from the pure bright

red, such as tips the fins of a perch, to the deeper claret colors or

the tawny gold of port. But an even more singular fact remains to be

noted. After the rainy season, when the new grasses spring up with

their vivid color, these withered-grass insects seem all to

disappear. Their color now would be no protection to them, and their

places are taken by others colored as green as the new grass.

Whether these are new insects or only the same in spring toilets I do

not know; but I should think they are a different population

altogether, the cycle of the former generation being, probably,

complete with the end of summer.

Besides the insects which imitate grass, another large class imitate

twigs, sticks, and the smaller branches of shrubs. The commonest of

these is a walking twig, three or four inches long, covered with bark

apparently, and spotted all over with mould like the genuine branch.

The imitation of bark here is one of the most perfect delusions in

nature; the delicate striation and the mould spots are reproduced

exactly, while the segmentation of the body represents node-intervals

with wonderful accuracy. On finding one of these insects I have

often cut a small branch from an adjoining tree and laid the two side

by side for comparison; and when both are partly concealed by the

hands so as to show only the part of the insect's body which is free

from limbs, it is impossible to tell the one from the other. The

very joints of the legs in these forms are knobbed to represent

nodes, and the characteristic attitudes of the insect are all such as

to sustain the deception.

A still more elaborate set of forms are those which represent leaves.

These belong mostly to the Mantis and Locust tribes, and they are

found in all forms, sizes, and colors, mimicking foliage at every

stage of growth, maturity and decay. Some have the leaf stamped on

their broadened wing-cases in vivid green, with veins and midrib

complete, and with curious expansions over the thorax and along all

the limbs to imitate smaller leaves. I have again and again matched

these forms in the forest, not only with the living leaf, but with

crumpled, discolored, and shrivelled specimens, and indeed the

imitations of the crumpled autumn-leaf are even more numerous and

impressive than those of the living form. Lichens, mosses, and fungi

are also constantly taken as models by insects, and there is probably

nothing in the vegetal kingdom, no knot, wart, nut, mould, scale,

bract, thorn, or bark, which has not its living counterpart in some

animal form. Most of the moths, beetles, weevils, and especially the

larval forms, are more or less protected mimetically; and in fact

almost the entire population of the tropics is guilty of personation

in ways known or unknown. The lichen-mimicking insects even go the

length of imitating holes, by means of mirror-like pools of black

irregularly disposed on the back, or interrupting the otherwise

dangerous symmetry of the fringed sides. The philosophy of these

coal-black markings greatly puzzled me for a time. The first I saw

was on a specimen of the singular and rare _Harpax ocellaria_, which

had been thrown on the camp fire clinging to a lichen-covered log,

and so well carried out was the illusion that even the natives were

deceived till the culprit betrayed its quality by erecting its gauzy

wings.

But it would be tedious to recount further the divisive ways of these

arch-deceivers, and I shall only refer to another mimetic form, which

for cool Pharisaism takes the palm from every creeping or flying

thing. I first saw this _menteur à triple ètaye_ on the Tanganyika

plateau. I had lain for a whole week without stirring from one

spot--a boulder in the dried-up bed of a stream, for this is the only

way to find out what really goes on in nature. A canopy of leaves

arched overhead, the home of many birds, and the granite boulders of

the dry stream-bed, and all along the banks, were marked with their

white droppings. One day I was startled to see one of these

droppings move. It was a mere white splash upon the stone, and when

I approached I saw I must be mistaken; the thing was impossible; and

now it was perfectly motionless. But I certainly saw it move, so I

bent down and touched it. It was an animal. Of course it was as

dead as a stone the moment I touched it, but one soon knows these

impostures, and I gave it a minute or two to become alive--hastily

sketching it meantime in case it should vanish through the stone, for

in that land of wonders one really never knows what will happen next.

Here was a bird-dropping suddenly become alive and moving over a

rock; and now it was a bird-dropping again; and yet, like Galileo, I

protest that it moved. It would not come to, and I almost feared I

might be mistaken after all, so I turned it over on its other side.

Now should any sceptic persist that this was a bird-dropping I leave

him to account for a bird-dropping with six legs, a head, and a

segmented body. Righting the creature, which showed no sign of life

through all this ordeal, I withdrew a few paces and watched

developments. It lay motionless on the stone, no legs, no head, no

feelers, nothing to be seen but a flat patch of white--just such a

patch as you could make on the stone in a second with a piece of

chalk. Presently it stirred, and the spot slowly sidled across the

boulder until I caught the impostor and imprisoned him for my

cabinet. I saw in all about a dozen of these insects after this.

They are about half the size of a fourpenny-piece, slightly more oval

than round, and as white as a snowflake. This whiteness is due to a

number of little tufts of delicate down growing out from minute

protuberances all over the back. It is a fringe of similar tufts

round the side that gives the irregular margin so suggestive of a

splash; and the under surface of the body has no protection at all.

The limbs are mere threads, and the motion of the insect is slow and

monotonous, with frequent pauses to impress surrounding nature with

its moribund condition. Now, unless this insect with this color and

habit were protectively colored it simply would not have a chance to

exist. It lies fearlessly exposed on the bare stones during the

brightest hours of the tropical day, a time when almost every other

animal is skulking out of sight. Lying upon all the stones round

about are the genuine droppings of birds; and when one sees the two

together it is difficult to say whether one is most struck with the

originality of the idea, or the extraordinary audacity with which the

_rôle_ is carried out.*

* It is a considerable responsibility to be the sole witness to this

comedy--though I saw it repeated a dozen times subsequently--but,

fortunately for my veracity, I have since learned from Mr. Kirby of

the British Museum that, there is an English beetle, the _Cionus

Blattaria_, the larval form of which "operates" in a precisely

similar way.

It will be apparent from these brief notes that mimicry is not merely

an occasional or exceptional phenomenon, but an integral part of the

economy of nature. It is not a chance relation between a few

objects, but a system so widely authorized that probably the whole

animal kingdom is more or less involved in it; a system, moreover,

which, in the hands of natural selection, must ever increase in

intricacy and beauty. It may also be taken for granted that a scheme

so widespread and so successful is based upon some sound utilitarian

principle. That principle, I should say, was probably its _economy_.

Nature does everything as simply as possible, and with the least

expenditure of material. Now consider the enormous saving of muscle

and nerve, of instinct and energy, secured by making an animal's

lease of life to depend on passivity rather than activity. Instead

of having to run away, the creature has simply to keep still; instead

of having to fight, it has but to hide. No armor is needed, no

powerful muscle, no expanse of wing. A few daubs of color, a little

modelling of thorax and abdomen, a deft turn of antennæ and limb, and

the thing is done.

At the first revelation of all these smart hypocrisies one is

inclined to brand the whole system as cowardly and false. And,

however much the creatures impress you by their cleverness, you never

quite get over the feeling that there is something underhand about

it; something questionable and morally unsound. The evolutionist,

also, is apt to charge mimetic species in general with neglecting the

harmonious development of their physical framework, and by a cheap

and ignoble subterfuge evading the appointed struggle for life. But

is it so? Are the æsthetic elements in nature so far below the

mechanical? Are color and form, quietness and rest, so much less

important than the specialization of single function or excellence in

the arts of war? Is it nothing that, while in some animals the

disguises tend to become more and more perfect, the faculties for

penetrating them, in other animals, must continually increase in

subtlety and power? And, after all, if the least must be said, is it

not better to be a live dog than a dead lion?

VIII.

A GEOLOGICAL SKETCH.

From the work of the various explorers who have penetrated Africa, it

is now certain that the interior of that Continent is occupied by a

vast plateau from 4000 to 5000 feet above the level of the sea. In

five separate regions--in the North-east, in Abyssinia, in the Masai

country, on the Tanganyika plateau, and in the district inland from

Benguela--this plateau attains a height of considerably over 5000

feet; while towards the coast, throughout their entire length, both

east and west, it falls with great uniformity to a lower plateau,

with an elevation of from 1000 to 2000 feet. This lower plateau is

succeeded, also with much uniformity along both coast lines, by

littoral and deltoid plains, with an average breadth from the sea of

about 150 miles.

The section which I am about to describe, entering Africa at the

Zambesi and penetrating inwards to the Tanganyika plateau, traverses

each of these regions in turn--the coast-belt, the lower fringing

table-land, the great general plateau of the country, and the third

or highest elevation of the Tanganyika table-land. To deal

thoroughly with so vast a region in the course of a single

exploration is out of the question; and I only indicate here a few of

the rough results of what was no more than a brief and hasty

reconnaissance.

The first and only geological feature to break the monotony of

mangrove-swamp and low grass plain of the coast-belt is the debris of

an ancient coral-reef, studded with sponges and other organisms.

This reef is exposed on the Qua-qua River, a little above Mogurrumba,

and about fifty miles from the sea. It is of small extent, at no

great height above the present sea-level, and, taken alone, can only

argue for a very inconsiderable elevation of the coast region. Some

twenty miles farther inland, and still only a few yards above

sea-level, an inconspicuous elevation appears, consisting of

sedimentary rocks. This belt is traceable for some distance, both

north and south, and a poor section may be found in the Zambesi

River, a few miles above the grave of Mrs. Livingstone at Shupanga.

The rocks in question, which are only visible when the Zambesi is

very low, consist of a few thin beds of red and yellow sandstones,

with intercalated marly sandstones and fine conglomerates.

Sedimentary rocks, in somewhat similar relation, are found at least

as far north as Mombassa, above Zanzibar, and as far south as the

Cape; and it seems probable that the whole of the plateau of the

interior is fringed by this narrow belt. No organic remains have

been found in this series north of Natal, but the fossils of the Cape

beds may shed some light on its horizon. Associated probably with

these rocks are the great beds of coal which are known to exist some

distance up the river in the neighborhood of Tette.

A short distance above the junction of the River Shiré with the

Zambesi the first hills of the plateau begin almost abruptly. They

occur in irregular isolated masses, mostly of the saddle-back order,

and varying in height from 100 or 200 to 2000 feet. Those I examined

consisted entirely of a very white quartzite--the only quartzite, I

may say, I ever saw in East Central Africa. At the foot of the most

prominent of those hills--that of Morumballa--a hot-spring bubbles

up, which Livingstone has already described in his "Zambesi."

Hot-springs are not uncommon in other parts of the Continent, and

several are to be found on the shores of Lake Nyassa. These are all

of the simplest type, and although the temperature is high they leave

no deposit anywhere to indicate their chemical character.

Two or three days' journey north and west of Morumballa, among the

distant hills which border the valley of the Shiré, Livingstone marks

a spot in his sketch-map where coal is to be found. After examining

the neighborhood with some care, and cross-examining the native

tribes, I conclude that Livingstone must, in this instance, have been

either mistaken or misinformed. A black rock certainly occurs at the

locality named, but after securing specimens of this as well as of

all the dark-colored rocks in the vicinity, I found them to be,

without exception, members of the igneous class. One very dark

diorite was probably the rock which, on a distant view, had been

mistaken for coal, for none of the natives along the whole length of

the lower Shiré had ever heard of "a black rock which burned." Coal,

however, as already mentioned, does certainly occur farther inland on

the Zambesi; while, farther south, the Natal and Transvaal coalfields

are now well known.

While speaking of coal I may best refer here to a small coal-bed

associated with an apparently different series of rocks, and of

special interest from its occurrence in the far interior of the

country. On the western shore of Lake Nyassa, about 10° south

latitude, coal was reported a few years ago by a solitary explorer,

who penetrated that region prospecting for gold in the wake of

Livingstone. The importance of such a discovery--a coal-seam on the

borders of one of the great inland seas of Africa--cannot be

over-estimated; and the late Mr. James Stewart, C.E., who has done

such important work for the geography of Africa, made a special

examination of the spot. From his report to the Royal Geographical

Society I extract the following reference:--

"On the 29th we marched northwards along the coast, reaching, after

three miles, the stream in which is the coal discovered by Mr.

Rhodes. The coal lies in a clay bank, tilted up at an angle of 45°,

dip west. It is laid bare over only some 30 feet, and is about 7

feet thick. It hardly looks as if it were in its original bed. The

coal is broken and thrown about as if it had been brought down by a

landslip, and traces of clay are found in the interstices. Yet the

bed is compact, and full of good coal. I traced it along the

hillside for some 200 yards, and found it cropping out on the surface

here and there. It is 500 feet above the lake-level, and about a

mile and a half from the shore. I lit a good fire with it, which

burned up strongly. The coal softened and threw out gas bubbles, but

gave no gas-jets. It caked slightly, but not so as to impede its

burning."--_Proceedings_, vol. iii. No. 5, p. 264.

I examined this section pretty carefully, and fear I must differ

slightly from Mr. Stewart in his geological and economical view of

the formation. The 7-foot seam described by Stewart is certainly a

deception, the seam being really composed of a series of thin beds of

alternately carbonaceous and argillaceous matter, few of the layers

of coal being more than an inch in thickness. With some of the most

carefully selected specimens I lit a fire, but with disappointing

results. Combustion was slow, and without flame. Although there

were what can only be called _films_ of really good coal here and

there, the mineral, on the whole, seemed of inferior quality, and

useless as a steam-coal. From the general indications of the

locality I should judge that the coal existed only in limited

quantity, while the position of the bed at the top of a rocky gorge

renders the deposit all but inaccessible. On the whole, therefore,

the Lake Nyassa coal, so far as opened up at present, can scarcely be

regarded as having any great economical importance, although the

geological interest of such a mineral in this region is considerable.

Sections of the coal have already been prepared for the microscope,

and Dr. Carruthers of the British Museum has identified the

macrospores of Lycopodaceous plants, which are identical with similar

organisms found in the coal-fields of England.

The Geology of the great African plateaux, so far as my section from

the Lower Shiré to the Tanganyika plateau is any indication of their

general structure, is of such simplicity that it may almost be

dismissed in a sentence. The whole country from the Shiré river, a

hundred miles above its junction with the Zambesi, embracing the

lower and higher central plateaux, the whole Shiré Highlands from the

river to the westward shores of Lake Shirwa, the three hundred miles

of rocky coast fringing the western shore of Lake Nyassa, the plateau

between Nyassa and Tanganyika for at least half its length--with one

unimportant interruption--consists solely of granite and gneiss. The

character and texture of this rock persist with remarkable uniformity

throughout this immense region. The granite, an ordinary gray

granite, composed of white rarely pink orthoclase felspar, the mica

of the biotitic or magnesian variety, rarely muscovite, and neither

fine nor coarse in texture; the gneiss, the same rock foliated. Of

the relation of these gneissose and granitic rocks to one another I

was unable to discover any law. Sometimes the gneiss would persist

over a large area, sometimes the granite; while frequently the two

would alternate perplexingly within a limited area. Mr. Joseph

Thomson's section, drawn inland from Zanzibar and joining mine at the

northern end of Lake Nyassa, and thence onwards by a more easterly

route towards Tanganyika, reveals a somewhat similar petrographical

structure; and, from scattered references in the journals of other

explorers, it is plain that this gneisso-granitic formation occupies

a very large area in the interior of the African Continent.

Associated minerals with these rocks, as far as a very general survey

indicated, were all but wholly wanting. At Zomba, on the Shiré

Highlands, a little tourmaline occurs, but of the precious metals I

could find no trace. Veins of any kind are also rare; and even

pegmatite I encountered in only one instance. Intrusive dykes

throughout the whole area were like-wise absent except in a single

district. This district lies towards the southern border of the

Shiré Highlands, immediately where the plateau rises from the river,

and there the dykes occur pretty numerously. They are seldom more

than a few feet in breadth, and consist of ordinary dolerite or

basalt. The black rock on the Lower Shiré, already mentioned in

connection with Livingstone's supposed discovery of coal, may

possibly be one of these dykes; but that there is any considerable

development of igneous rocks in this immediate locality I should

doubt. Farther up the Zambesi, however, coulees of basalt are met

with at more than one place, conspicuously in the neighborhood of the

Victoria Falls. The only distinct trace of volcanic action

throughout my route appeared towards the extreme northern end of Lake

Nyassa. One is warned beforehand by occasional specimens of pumice

lying about the lake shore as one travels north; but it is not till

the extreme end of the lake is reached that the source is discovered

in the series of low volcanic cones which Thomson has already

described in this locality. The development is apparently local, and

the origin of the cones probably comparatively recent.

Apart from this local development of igneous rocks at the north end

of Lake Nyassa, the only other break in the granitic series

throughout the area traversed by my line of march occurs near the

native village of Karonga, on Lake Nyassa. About a dozen miles from

the north-western lake shore on the route to Tanganyika, after

following the Rukuru river through a defile of granite rocks, I came,

to my great surprise, upon a well-marked series of stratified beds.

At a bend in the river a fine section is exposed. They lie throw

against the granitic rocks, which here show signs of disturbance, and

consist of thin beds of very fine light-gray sandstone, and blue and

gray shales, with an occasional band of gray limestone. By camping

at the spot for some days, and working patiently, I was rewarded with

the discovery of fossils. This is, of course, the main interest of

these beds,--for these are, I believe, the only fossils that have

ever been found in Central Africa. The shale, naturally, yielded the

most productive results, one layer especially being one mass of small

_Lamellibranchiata_. Though so numerous, these fossils are confined

to a single species of the _Tellinidæ_, a family abundantly

represented in tropical seas at the present time, and dating back as

far as the Oolite. Vegetable remains are feebly represented by a few

reeds and grasses. Fish-scales abound; but I was only able, and that

after much labor, to unearth two two or three imperfect specimens of

the fishes themselves. These have been put into the accomplished

hands of Dr. Traquair of Edinburgh, who has been kind enough to

furnish the following account of them:--

EDINBURGH, 23d April, 1888.

DEAR PROFESSOR DRUMMOND--I have carefully examined the six specimens

of fossil fish-remains from Central Africa, which you submitted to

me, and though I certainly would have wished them to have been less

fragmentary, I shall do my best to give an opinion upon them.

No. 1, the largest, is the hinder portion of a fish of moderate size,

showing not only scales, but also the remains of the dorsal, anal,

and caudal fins. The caudal is strongly heterocercal, and was

probably deeply bifurcated, but the rays of the lower lobe are very

badly preserved: only the posterior parts of the dorsal and anal are

seen, nearly opposite each other, and composed of fine, closely

placed, and closely articulated rays. The scales, displaced and

jumbled up, are osseous, thick, and rhomboidal, with a strong blunt

carina on the attached surface, while the exposed part of the

external surface is covered with ganoine, and ornamented with rather

sparsely scattered pits and punctures.

Belonging to the Order Ganoidei, this fish is with equal certainty

referable to the family Palæoniscidæ, but its _genus_ is more a

matter of doubt owing to the fragmentary nature of the specimen.

Judging from the form and thickness of the scales, I should be

inclined to refer it to _Acrolepis_, were it not that the dorsal and

anal fins seem so close to the tail, and so nearly opposite each

other; here, however, it may be remarked that the disturbed state of

the scales affords room for the possibility that the original

relations of the parts may not be perfectly preserved. I have,

however, no doubt that, as a _species_, it is new; and as you have

been the first to bring fossil fishes from those regions of Central

Africa, you will perhaps allow me to name it _Acrolepis_ (?)

_Drummondi_.

No. 2 is a piece of cream-colored limestone, with numerous minute,

scattered, rhombic, striated, ganoid scales, which I cannot venture

to name, though I believe them to be palæoniscid. Associated with

these is a small portion of the margin of a jaw, with numerous minute

sharp conical teeth. But also lying among these minuter relics is a

scale of a much larger size, and clearly belonging to another fish.

It measures 1-4 inch in height by the same in breadth; its shape is

rhomboidal, having an extensive anterior covered area, and a strong

articular spine projecting from the upper margin. The free surface

is brilliantly ganoid, and marked with furrows separating feeble

ridges, which pass rather obliquely downwards and backwards across

the scale, and terminate in eight sharp denticulations of the hinder

margin. A little way off is the impression of the attached surface

of a similar scale, and there are also two interspinous bones,

probably belonging to the same fish.

This is probably also a palæoniscid scale, resembling in shape those

of _Acrolepis_, but it is rather thinner than is usually the case in

this genus. It has also considerable resemblance to some of those

scales from the European Trias, named by Agassiz _Gyrolepis_. Though

it may be rather venturesome to name a species from such slender

material, nevertheless we may, provisionally at least, recognize the

scale as _Acrolepis (?) Africanus_.

Nos. 3 and 4 are small pieces of the same limestone, covered with the

minute striated palæoniscid scales referred to above.

No. 5 is a piece of gray micaceous shale, with scales of yet a fourth

species of palæoniscid fish. One conspicuous scale unfortunately,

like all the rest, seen only from the attached surface, is 1-4 inch

in height by nearly 1-6 in breadth; it is tolerably rectangular in

shape, having a well-developed articular spine and fossette. Part of

the scale is broken away at the anterior margin, the impression

brought into view showing that the covered area is narrow, and

indicating that the free surface is striated with rather sharp ridges

passing obliquely across the scale. The posterior margin is finely

denticulated.

Though this scale is in my opinion specifically, and possibly

generically, distinct from those previously named, the outer surface

not being properly displayed renders it impossible to give a

sufficient diagnosis.

No. 6 is a piece of the same shale, having the clavicle of a small

palaeoniscid fish, which it is, however, impossible to name.--I am,

yours faithfully,

R. H. TRAQUAIR.

These fossiliferous beds seem to occupy a comparatively limited area,

and have a very high dip in a south-easterly direction. At the spot

where my observations were taken they did not extend over more than

half a mile of country, but it is possible that the formation may

persist for a long distance in other directions. Indeed, I traced it

for some miles in the direction in which, some fifty or sixty miles

off, lay the coal already described, and to which it may possibly be

related.

With one or two general remarks upon surface geology and physical

geography I bring this note to a close. First, regarding the Lakes

Nyassa and Shirwa,--there is distinct evidence, and especially in the

case of the latter, that they have formerly occupied a considerably

larger area than at present. Shirwa is an extremely shallow lake;

though the eastern and southern shores are mountainous, it is

suggestive rather of an immense bog than of a deep inland sea. For

many miles before reaching the shore there are signs that one is

traversing the site of a former and larger Shirwa, which may possibly

at one time have been actually connected with the lower extremity of

Lake Nyassa. To substantiate this conclusion, however, will require

more detailed examination of the Shiré Highlands than I was able to

give. The peculiarity of Shirwa is that the water is brackish to the

taste, while that of Nyassa and of the other Central African lakes,

with the exception of Lake Leopold, is fresh. The shallowness of

Shirwa, and the precariousness of its outlet through Lake Cheuta to

the Lujenda, amply account for this difference; for the narrow waters

of Nyassa and Tanganyika are thoroughly drained and profoundly deep.

That Lake Nyassa is also slowly drying up is evident from the most

superficial examination of its southern end. There it has already

left behind a smaller lake--Lake Pomalombé--a considerable expanse of

water, through which the Shiré passes a few miles after emerging from

Lake Nyassa, but already so shallow that nowhere in the dry season

does the depth exceed three fathoms. If the silting up of this lake

continues for a few years it will render this sheet of water, which

commands the entrance to Lake Nyassa, totally unnavigable, and thus

close the magnificent water-highway at present open, with a portage

of seventy miles, from the top of Lake Nyassa to the Indian Ocean at

the mouth of the Zambesi.

Regarding the interesting question of the origin of Lake Nyassa and

its great sister-lakes in the heart of Africa--the Victoria and

Albert Nyanza and Tanganyika--I do not presume to speak. No follower

of Ramsay in his theory of the glacial origin of lakes could desire a

more perfect example of a rock-basin than that of Lake Nyassa. It is

a gigantic trough of granite and gneiss, three hundred miles in

length, nowhere over fifty miles in breadth, and sixteen hundred feet

above the level of the sea, the mountains rising all around it, and

sometimes almost sheer above it, to a farther height of one, two, and

three thousand feet. The high Tanganyika plateau borders it on the

northern shore, and the greatest depth is precisely where the glacial

theory would demand, namely, towards the upper portion of the lake.

On the other hand, the physical geology of the country in which these

other lakes are situated, as well as several features connected with

Lake Nyassa itself, lend no countenance to such a view; and probably

the suggestion of Murchison and other geologists is correct, that all

these lakes, colossal though they still are, are the remnants of a

much vaster expanse of water which once stretched over Central Africa.

The only other point to which I need allude is the subject of

glaciation itself. And I refer to this pointedly, because I have

lately encountered allusions, and in quarters entitling them to

respect, to the presence of glacial phenomena in the Central Lake

district of Africa. I confess that my observations have failed to

confirm these suggestions. It has been my lot to have had perhaps

exceptional opportunities of studying the phenomena of glaciation in

Europe and Northern America, and I have been unable to detect

anywhere in the interior of Africa a solitary indication of glacial

action. In Kaffirland, far to the south, there are features which

one would almost unhesitatingly refer to glaciation; but in East

Central Africa not a vestige of boulder-clay, nor moraine matter, nor

striæ, nor glaciated surface, nor outline, is anywhere traceable.

One would be curious to know to what extent the flora and fauna of

the inland plateau confirm or contradict this negative evidence

against the glaciation of this region.

Finally, the thing about the geology of Africa that strikes one as

especially significant is that throughout this vast area, just

opening up to science, there is nothing new--no unknown force at

work; no rock strange to the petrographer; no pause in denudation; no

formation, texture, or structure to put the law of continuity to

confusion. Rapid radiation, certainly, replaces the effects of frost

in northern lands--and the enormous denudation due to this cause is a

most striking feature of tropical geology. The labors of the worm,

again, in transporting soil in temperate climates are undertaken by

the termite; but here, as elsewhere, every fresh investigation tends

to establish more and more the oneness and simplicity of Nature.

IX.

A POLITICAL WARNING.

When I reached the coast to embark for England after my wanderings in

the interior, the Portuguese authorities at Quilimane presented me

with various official documents, which I was told I must acknowledge

with signatures and money before being permitted to leave Africa.

Having already had to pay certain moneys to Portugal to get into this

country, it was a shock to find that I had also to pay to get out;

but, as no tax could be considered excessive that would facilitate

one's leaving even the least of the Portuguese East African colonies,

I cheerfully counted out the price of my release. Before completing

the conveyance, however, my eye fell on six words prominently

endorsed on one of the documents, which instantly tightened my

purse-strings. The words were, "TAX FOR RESIDING IN THE

INTERIOR"--so much. Now a day or two spent in waiting for a steamer

could scarcely be construed into residence, nor could a strip of

coast-line with propriety be termed the interior, so I ventured to

point out the irrelevancy to the Portuguese official. Waiving the

merely philological question of residence, he went at once to the

root of the matter by informing me that the Portuguese definition of

the word Interior differed materially from that of England. The

Interior, he said, comprised the whole of Africa inland from the

coast-province of Mozambique, and included, among other and larger

possessions, the trifling territories of the Upper Shiré Highlands,

Lake Shirwa, and Lake Nyassa. These last, he assured me, belonged to

Portugal, and it became me, having therein shared the protection of

that ancient flag, to acknowledge the obligation to the extent of so

many hundred Reis.

Though not unprepared for this assumption, the idea of enforcing it

by demanding tribute was so great a novelty that, before discharging

my supposed liabilities, I humbly asked information on the following

points:--1. Did the region described really belong to Portugal? 2.

When and where was this claim recognized by England directly or

indirectly? 3. Where in the Interior, as thus defined, was the

Portuguese flag to be found? And 4. What protection had it ever

given to me or to any other European? The replies to these queries

being evasive, I took it upon myself to correct the history, the

geography, and the politics of the throng of Government officials who

now joined the sederunt by the following statement of facts:--1. The

region described did not belong to Portugal. 2. Its sovereignty had

never been in any way acknowledged by England. 3. The Portuguese

flag was nowhere to be found there, and never had been there. 4. Not

one solitary Portuguese up to that time had ever even set foot in the

country--except one man who was brought in for a few weeks under

English auspices; so that no protection had ever been given, or could

possibly be given, to me or to any one else. These statements were

received in silence, and after much running to and fro among the

officials the representative of John Bull, instead of being dragged

to prison, and his rifle--his only real escort through

Nyassa-land--poinded to pay for his imaginary protection, found

himself bowed off the premises with a discharge in full of his debt

to Portugal, and the unpaid tax-paper still in his pocket.

I recall this incident to introduce in all seriousness the question

interesting so many at the present moment as to the title-deeds of

Equatorial Africa. Why Africa should not belong to the Africans I

have never quite been able to see, but since this Continent is being

rapidly partitioned out among the various European States, it is

well, even in the African interest, to inquire into the nature and

validity of these claims. The two political maps which will be found

at the end of this volume will enable those interested to see the

present situation at a glance, and I shall only further emphasize one

or two points of immediate practical importance.

[Transcriber's note: The two maps mentioned above were missing from

the source book.]

The connection of Portugal with Africa is an old, and--at least it

was at first--an honorable one. The voyages of the Portuguese were

the first to enrich geography with a knowledge of the African coasts,

and so early as 1497 they took possession of the eastern shore by

founding the colony of Mozambique. This rule, however, though

nominally extending from Delagoa Bay to as far north as Cape Delgado,

was confined to two or three isolated points, and nowhere, except on

the Zambesi, affected more than the mere fringe of land bordering the

Indian Ocean. On the Zambesi the Portuguese established stations at

Senna, Tette, and Zumbo, which were used, though on the most limited

scale, as missionary and trading centres; but these are at present

all but abandoned and in the last stages of decrepitude. The right

of Portugal to the lower regions of the Zambesi, notwithstanding its

entire failure to colonize in and govern the country, can never be

disputed by any European Power, though the Landeens, or Zulus, who

occupy the southern bank, not only refuse to acknowledge the claim,

but exact an annual tribute from the Portuguese for their occupation

of the district.

No one has ever attempted to define how far inland the Portuguese

claim, founded on coast-possession, is to be considered good; but

that it cannot include the regions north of the Zambesi--the Shiré

Highlands and Lake Nyassa--is self-evident. These regions were

discovered and explored by Livingstone. They have been occupied

since his time exclusively by British subjects, and colonized

exclusively with British capital. The claim of England,

therefore--though nothing but a moral claim has ever been made--is

founded on the double right of discovery and occupation; and if it

were a question of treaty with the natives, it might possibly be

found on private inquiry that a precaution so obvious had not been

forgotten by those most nearly interested. On the other hand, no

treaties exist with Portugal; there is not a single Portuguese in the

country, and until the other day no Portuguese had even seen it. The

Portuguese boundary-line has always stopped at the confluence with

the Shiré of the river Ruo, and the political barrier erected there

by Chipitula and the river Chiefs has been maintained so rigidly that

no subject of Portugal was ever allowed to pass it from the south.

Instead, therefore, of possessing the Shiré Highlands, that is the

region of all others from which the Portuguese have been most

carefully excluded.

The reason for this enforced exclusion is not far to seek. At first

the Portuguese had too much to do in keeping their always precarious

foothold on the banks of the Zambesi to think of the country that lay

beyond; and when their eyes were at last turned towards it by the

successes of the English, the detestation in which they were by this

time held by the natives--the inevitable result of long years of

tyranny and mismanagement--made it impossible for them to extend an

influence which was known to be disastrous to every native right.

Had the Portuguese done well by the piece of Africa of which they

already assumed the stewardship, no one now would dispute their claim

to as much of the country as they could wisely use. But when even

the natives have had to rise and by force of arms prevent their

expansion, it is impossible that they should be allowed to overflow

into the Highland country--much less to claim it--now that England,

by pacific colonization and missionary work, holds the key to the

hearts and hands of its peoples. By every moral consideration the

Portuguese have themselves forfeited the permission to trespass

farther in Equatorial Africa. They have done nothing for the people

since the day they set foot in it. They have never discouraged, but

rather connived at, the slave-trade; Livingstone himself took the

servant of the Governor of Tette red-handed at the head of a large

slave-gang. They have been at perpetual feud with the native tribes.

They have taught them to drink. Their missions have failed. Their

colonization is not even a name. With such a record in the past, no

pressure surely can be required to make the Government of England

stand firm in its repudiation of a claim which, were it acknowledged,

would destroy the last hope for East Central Africa.

England's stake in this country is immeasurably greater than any

statistics can represent, but a rough estimate of the tangible

English interest will show the necessity of the British Government

doing its utmost at least to conserve what is already there.

The Established Church of Scotland has three ordained missionaries in

the Shiré Highlands, one medical man, a male and a female teacher, a

carpenter, a gardener, and other European and many native agents.

The Free Church of Scotland on Lake Nyassa has four ordained

missionaries--three of whom are doctors--several teachers and

artizans, and many native catechists. The Universities Mission

possesses a steamer on Lake Nyassa, and several missionary agents;

while the African Lakes Company, as already mentioned, has steamers

both on the Shiré and Lake Nyassa, with twelve trading stations

established at intervals throughout the country, and manned by

twenty-five European agents. All these various agencies, and that of

the brothers Buchanan at Zomba, are well equipped with buildings,

implements, roads, plantations, and gardens; and the whole represents

a capital expenditure of not less than £180,000. The well-known

editor of Livingstone's Journals, the Rev. Horace Waller, thus sums

up his account of these English enterprises in his _Title-Deeds to

Nyassa-Land_: "Dotted here and there, from the mangrove swamps at the

Kongoné mouth of the Zambesi to the farthest extremity of Lake

Nyassa, we pass the graves of naval officers, of brave ladies, of a

missionary bishop, of clergymen, Foreign Office representatives,

doctors, scientific men, engineers, and mechanics. All these were

our countrymen: they lie in glorious graves; their careers have been

foundation-stones, and already the edifice rises. British mission

stations are working at high pressure on the Shiré Highlands, and

under various auspices, not only upon the shores of Lake Nyassa, but

on its islands also, and, by desperate choice as it were, in the

towns of the devastating hordes who live on the plateaux on either

side of the lake. Numbers of native Christians owe their knowledge

of the common faith to these efforts; scores of future chiefs are

being instructed in the schools, spread over hundreds of miles;

plantations are being mapped out; commerce is developing by sure and

steady steps; a vigorous company is showing to tribes and nations

that there are more valuable commodities in their land than their

sons and daughters." This is the vision which Livingstone saw, when,

in the last years of his life, he pleaded with his fellow-countrymen

to follow him into Africa. "I have opened the door," he said, "I

leave it to you to see that no one closes it after me."

The urgency of the question of Portuguese as against British

supremacy in Equatorial Africa must not blind us, however, to another

and scarcely less important point--the general European, and

especially the recent German, invasion of Africa. The Germans are

good, though impecunious colonists, but it cannot be said that they

or any of the other European nations are as alive to the moral

responsibilities of administration among native tribes as England

would desire. And though they are all freely entitled to whatever

lands in Africa they may legitimately secure, it is advisable for all

concerned that these acquisitions should be clearly defined and

established in international law, in order that the various Powers,

the various trading-companies, and the various missions, may know

exactly where they stand. The almost hopeless entanglement of the

Foreign Powers in Africa at present may be seen from the following

political "section," which represents the order of occupation along

the Atlantic seaboard from opposite Gibraltar to the Cape:--

POLITICAL "SECTION" OF WESTERN AFRICA.

Spain . . . Morocco.

France . . . "

Spain . . . Opposite the Canaries.

France . . . French Senegambia.

Britain . . . British Senegambia

France . . . French "

Britain . . . British "

Portugal . . . Portuguese "

France . . .

Britain . . . Sierra Leone.

Liberia . . . Republic of Liberia.

France . . . Gold Coast.

England . . . Gold Coast.

France . . . Dahomey.

Unappropriated . . . "

England . . . Niger.

Germany . . . Cameroons.

French . . . French Congo.

Portuguese . . . Portuguese Congo.

International . . Congo.

Portuguese . . . Angola.

Portuguese . . . Benguela.

Germany . . . Angra Pequena.

England . . . Walvisch Bay.

Germany . . . Orange River.

England . . . Cape of Good Hope.

These several possessions on the western coast have at least the

advantage of being to some extent defined, but those on the east, and

especially as regards their inland limits, are in a complete state of

chaos. It seems hopeless to propose it, but what is really required

is an International Conference to overhaul title-deeds, adjust

boundary-lines, delimit territories, mark off states, protectorates,

lands held by companies, and spheres of influence. England's

interest in this must be largely a moral one. Her ambitions in the

matter of new territories are long ago satisfied. But there will be

certain conflict some day if the portioning of Africa is not more

closely watched than it is at present.

As an example of the complacent way in which vast tracts in Africa

are being appropriated, glance for a moment at the recent inroads of

the Germans. On the faith of private treaties, and of an agreement

with Portugal, Germany has recently staked off a region in East

Central Africa stretching from the boundaries of the Congo Free State

to the Indian Ocean, and embracing an area considerably larger than

the German Empire. To a portion only of this region--the boundaries

of which, contrasted with that arbitrarily claimed in addition, will

be apparent from a comparison of the maps--have the Germans procured

a title; and the steps by which this has been attained afford an

admirable illustration of modern methods of land-transfer in Africa.

What happened was this:--

Four or five years ago Dr. Karl Peters concluded treaties with the

native chiefs of Useguha, Ukami, Nguru and Usagara, by which he

acquired these territories from the Society for German Colonization.

The late Sultan of Zanzibar attempted to remonstrate, but meantime an

imperial "Schutzbrief" had been secured from Berlin, and a German

fleet arrived at Zanzibar prepared to enforce it. Britain appealed

to Germany on the subject, and a Delimitation Commission was

appointed, which met in London. An agreement was come to, signed by

Lord Iddesleigh on 29th October, 1886, and duly given effect to. The

terms of this Anglo-German Convention have been recently made public

in a well-informed article by Mr. A. Silva White (_Scottish

Geographical Magazine_, March, 1888), to which I am indebted for some

of the above facts, and the abstract may be given here intact, as

political knowledge of Africa is not only deficient, but materials

for improving it are all but inaccessible. In view, moreover, of the

spirit of acquisitiveness which is abroad among the nations of

Europe, and of recent attempts on the part of Germany to claim more

than her title allows, the exact terms of this contract ought to be

widely known:--

I. Both Powers recognize the sovereignty of the Sultan of Zanzibar

over the islands of Zanzibar and Pemba, Lamu and Mafia, as also over

those small islands lying within a circuit of twelve nautical miles

of Zanzibar. Both Powers also recognize as the Sultan's possessions

on the mainland an uninterrupted coast-line from the mouth of the

Miningani River at the entrance of the bay of Tunghi (south of Cape

Delgado) as far as Kipini (south of Wito). This line encloses a

coast of ten nautical miles inland for the whole distance. The

northern boundary includes Kau; north of Kipini, both Powers

recognize as belonging to the Sultan of Zanzibar the stations of

Kisimayu, Brava, Merka, and Makdishu (Magadoxo), each with a land

circuit of ten nautical miles, and Warsheikli with a land circuit of

five nautical miles.

II. Great Britain engages herself to support those negotiations of

Germany with the Sultan which have for their object the farming out

(_Verpachtung_) of the customs in the harbors of Dar-es-Salaam and

Pangani to the German East African Association, on the payment by the

Association to the Sultan of an annual guaranteed sum of money.

III. Both Powers agree to undertake a delimitation of their

respective spheres of influence in this portion of the East African

Continent. This territory shall be considered as bounded on the

south by the Rovuma River, and on the north by a line, commencing

from the mouth of the Tana River, following the course of this river

or its tributaries, to the intersection of the Equator with the 38th

degree of east longitude, and from thence continued in a straight

line to the intersection of the 1st degree of north latitude with the

37th degree of east longitude. The line of demarcation shall start

from the mouth of the river Wanga, or Umbe, and follow a straight

course to Lake Jipe (south-east of Kilimanjaro), along the eastern

shore and round the northern shore of the lake, across the river

Lumi, passing between the territories of Taveta and Chagga, and then

along the northern slope of the Kilimanjaro range and continued in a

straight line to the point on the eastern shore of Lake Victoria

Nyanza which is intersected by the 1st degree of south latitude.

Great Britain engages herself to make no territorial acquisitions, to

accept no Protectorates, and not to compete with the spread of German

influence to the south of this line, whilst Germany engages herself

to observe a similar abstinence in the territories to the north of

this line.

IV. Great Britain will use her influence to promote the conclusion of

a friendly agreement concerning the existing claims of the Sultan of

Zanzibar and the German East African Association, on the Kilimanjaro

territory.

V. Both Powers recognize as belonging to Wito the coast stretching

from the north of Kipini to the north end of Man da Bay.

VI. Great Britain and Germany will conjointly call upon the Sultan of

Zanzibar to recognize the General Act of the Berlin Conference, save

and except the existing rights of His Highness as laid down in Art.

I. of the Act.

VII. Germany binds herself to become a party to the Note signed by

Great Britain and France on 10th March, 1862, in regard to the

recognition of the independence of Zanzibar.

This is the only document which can have any validity, and such

German claims--outside the limit here assigned--as are represented on

the newer German maps, are to be treated as mere chartographical

flourishes. Encouraged, however, by this success in securing

territory in Africa, and without stopping to use or even to proclaim

their protectorate over more than a fraction of the petty states

comprised within it, the Germans instantly despatched expedition

after expedition to secure further conquest in the remoter and

unappropriated districts. Dr. Karl Peters himself led one large

expedition; Dr. Jühlke negotiated agreements with the tribes on the

distant Somal coast; and other explorers brought back rare and heavy

spoil--on paper--to Berlin. So the swallowing up of Africa goes on.

The slices cut are daily becoming bigger, and in a few years more not

a crumb of the loaf will remain for those who own it now. The poor

Sultan of Zanzibar, who used to boast himself lord of the whole

interior, woke up, after the London Convention, to find that his

African kingdom consisted of a ten-mile-wide strip of coast-line,

extending from Kipini to the Miningani River. Even this has already

been sold or leased to the English and Germans, and nothing now

remains to His Highness but a few small islands.

Since turning her attention towards Africa, Germany has not only

looked well after new territory, but seized the opportunity to

inspect and readjust the title-deeds to her other African property.

We find a new treaty concluded in 1885 between her and the British

Protectorate in the Niger regarding the Cameroons; another towards

the close of the same year with France on the same subject, and

securing rights to Malimba and Great Batonga; and a third with

Portugal in 1887, defining, in the interest of the latter, the

boundaries of Angola, and ceding to Germany, as a _quid-pro-quo_, an

acknowledgment of the claim of the Germans--which, of course, England

repudiates--to East Central Africa from the coast to the south end of

Tanganyika and Lake Nyassa, as far as the latitude of the Rovuma.

These facts prove the genuine political activity of at least one

great European power, and offer a precedent to England, which, in one

respect at least, she would do well to copy. Her title-deeds, and

those of certain districts in which she is concerned, are not in such

perfect order as to justify the apathy which exists at present, and

her interests in the country are now too serious to be the prey of

unchallenged ambitions, or left at the mercy of any casual turn of

the wheel of politics.

Thanks, partly, to the recent seizure by Portugal of the little

Zambesi steamer belonging to the African Lakes company--on the plea

that vessels trading on Portuguese waters must be owned by Portuguese

subjects, and fly the Portuguese flag--and to influential deputations

to head-quarters on the part of the various Missions, the Foreign

Office is beginning to be alive to the state of affairs in East

Central Africa. The annexation of Matabeleland will be a chief item

on the programme with which it is hoped the Government will shortly

surprise us; but, what is of greater significance, it will probably

include a declaration of the Zambesi as an open river, and the

abolition or serious restriction of the present customs tariff.

Important as these things are, however, they affect but slightly the

two supreme English interests in East Central Africa--the suppression

of the slave-trade and the various missionary and industrial

enterprises. The most eager among the supporters of these higher

interests have never ventured to press upon Government anything so

pronounced as that England should declare a Protectorate over the

Upper Shiré and Nyassa districts; but they do contend, and with every

reason, for the delimitation of part of this region as a "Sphere of

British Influence."

Granting even that the shadowy claims of Germany and Portugal to the

eastern shore of Lake Nyassa are to be respected, there remain the

whole western coast of the Lake, and the regions of the Upper Shiré

which are reached directly from the waters of the Zambesi without

trespassing on the soil of any nation. These regions are not even

claimed at present by any one, while by every right of discovery and

occupation--by every right, in fact, except that of formal

acknowledgment--they are already British. It will be an oversight

most culpable and inexcusable if this great theatre of British

missionary and trading activity should be allowed to be picked up by

any passing traveller, or become the property of whatever European

power had sufficient effrontery at this late day to wave its flag

over it. The thriving settlements, the schools and churches, the

roads and trading-stations, of Western Nyassa-land are English. And

yet it is neither asked that they should be claimed by England,

annexed by England, nor protected by England. Those whose

inspirations and whose lives have created this oasis in the desert,

plead only that no intruder now should be allowed to undo their labor

or idly reap its fruits. Here is one spot, at least, on the Dark

Continent, which is being kept pure and clean. It is now within the

power of the English Government to mark it off before the world as

henceforth sacred ground. To-morrow, it may be too late.

X.

A METEOROLOGICAL NOTE.

The Lake Nyassa region of Africa knows only two seasons--the rainy

and the dry. The former begins with great regularity on the opening

days of December, and closes towards the end of April; while during

the dry season, which follows for the next six months, the sun is

almost never darkened with a cloud. At Blantyre, on the Shiré

Highlands, the rainfall averages fifty inches; at Bandawé, on Lake

Nyassa, a register of eighty-six inches is counted a somewhat dryish

season.

The barometer in tropical countries is much more conservative of

change than in northern latitudes, and the annual variation at Lake

Nyassa is only about half an inch--or from 28.20 inches in November

to 28.70 inches in June. The diurnal variation, according to Mr.

Stewart, is rarely more than twenty-hundredths of an inch.

The average temperature for the year at Blantyre, where the elevation

is about three thousand feet above sea-level, is 50° Fahr., but the

mercury has been known to stand ten degrees lower, and on one

exceptional occasion it fell 2° below freezing point. At Lake

Nyassa, half the height of Blantyre, 85° Fahr. is a common figure for

mid-day in the hottest month (November) in the year, while the

average night-temperature of the coldest month (May) is about 60°.

The lowest registered temperature on the Lake has been 54°, and the

highest--though this is extremely rare--100° Fahr. When the

Livingstonia Mission occupied the promontory of Cape Maclear, at the

southern end of Nyassa, in 1880, one of the then staff, Mr. Harkess,

had the energy to keep a systematic record of the temperature, and I

am indebted to his notebook for the following table. The figures

represent observations taken at 6 A.M., 12 noon, and 6 P.M. A dash

indicates that the observation was omitted for the hour

corresponding. The wet bulb reads on an average 10 degrees lower.

TABLE OF TEMPERATURES AT LAKE NYASSA.

May June July Aug. Sept.

1 70 62 64 67 68

80 75 73 74 79

75 76 74 73 75

2 -- 60 64 68 69

77 78 74 -- 79

-- 73 -- 74 75

3 67 65 62 65 66

76 78 74 -- 75

76 74 70 -- 74

4 68½ 64 -- 62 71

79 71 73 -- 77

78 70 -- -- 79

5 68 64 63 76 --

79 74 -- -- --

76 74 71 -- --

6 -- 64 64 70 65

75½ 77 72 77 81

75 76 74 -- 77

7 66 67 64 61 72

79 78 71 79 80

75 75 71 -- 77

8 65 66 64 -- 70

74 74 -- -- 80

74 74 71 -- 81

9 -- 68 65 62 70

77 76 75 79 81

-- 73 73 -- 77

10 67 68 66 61 --

75 75 -- 81 80

74 73 71 -- 77

11 69 66 -- 62 70

75 76 76 79 79

-- 75 73 -- 79

12 -- 66 69 65 --

75 75 77 81 --

71 72 -- 76 --

13 65 -- 70 72

76 73 80 79

74 -- 77 78

14 67 63 68 71

73 74 77 81

71 -- 75 78

15 68 64 -- 66 72

76 74 -- -- 75

75 72 76 -- 77

16 71 64 68 67 --

77 74 79 75 79

75 70 78 73 77

17 68 64 65 -- --

78 74 77 -- --

77 72 -- 76 76

18 72 71 68 68 73

80 74 75 75 78

78 72 76 72 77

19 65 64 69 -- --

74 -- 77 75 --

76 77 79 74 --

20 63 -- 67 68 75

74 76 76 -- 82

76 74 74 75 80

21 67 65 64 64 71

75 72 75 -- 85

75 68 75 75 78

22 70 63 67 -- 72

75 66 75 78 81

-- 65 76 75 79

23 58 65 -- 70

67 77 79 82

70 74 77 78

24 -- 62 64 68 73

76 -- 76 69 82

76 -- 74 66 81

25 67 61 66 63 74

77 -- 74 75 --

75 -- 75 71 78

26 67 63 67 64 --

75 75 79 72 --

75 -- 76 73 --

27 69 -- 65 65 73

77 72 74 77 84

74 -- 71 77 82

28 70 -- 65 70 73

78 72 76 79 81

77 -- 74 78 79

29 68 63 65 -- 68

80 71 72 76 82

77 72 75 -- 80

30 -- 64 63 67 74

75 74 78 79 82

76 -- 75 77 80

31 67 65 66

74 76 79

74 76 83

Tropical Africa · 第 12 / 12 章