WILD EXPERIENCES.
Stanley had now traveled one hundred and nineteen miles in fourteen
marches, occupying one entire month lacking one day, and making, on an
average, four miles a day. This was slow work. The rainy season now set
in, and day after day it was a regular down-pour. Stanley was compelled
to halt, while disgusting insects, beetles, bugs, wasps, centipedes,
worms and almost every form of the lower animal life, took possession of
his tent, and gave him the first real taste of African life.
On the morning of the 23d of April, he says the rain held up for a short
time and he prepared to cross the river, now swollen and turbid. The
bridge over which he carried his baggage was of the most primitive kind,
while the donkeys had to swim. The passage occupied five hours, yet it
was happily accomplished without any casualties. Reloading his baggage
and wringing out his clothes, he set out again, leaving the river and
following a path that led off in a northerly direction.
With his heart light and cheerful by being once more on the march and
out of the damp and hateful valley, which was made still more hateful
by the disgusting insect life that filled his tent, he ascended to
higher ground, and passed with his caravan through successive glades,
which opened one after another between forest clumps of trees hemmed in
distantly by isolated peaks and scattered mountains. "Now and then," he
says, "as we crested low eminences, we caught sight of the blue Usagara
Mountains, bounding the horizon westerly and northerly, and looked down
on a vast expanse of plain which lay between. At the foot of the lengthy
slope, well watered by bubbling springs and mountain rills, we found a
comfortable Khembi with well-made huts, which the natives call Simbo. It
lies just two hours, or five miles, northwest from the Ungerengeri
crossing."
We here get incidentally the rapidity with which he traveled, where the
face of the country and the roads gave him the greatest facilities for
quick marching, two "hours or five miles," he says, which makes his best
time two and a half miles an hour. In this open, beautiful country no
villages or settlements could be seen, though he was told there were
many in the mountain inclosures, the inhabitants of which were false,
dishonest and murderous.
On the morning of the 24th, as they were about to leave, Simbo, his Arab
cook, was caught for the fifth time pilfering, and it being proved
against him, Stanley ordered a dozen lashes to be inflicted on him as a
punishment, and Shaw was ordered to administer them. The blows being
given through his clothes, did not hurt him much, but the stern decree
that he, with his donkey and baggage, should be expelled from camp and
turned adrift in the forests of Africa, drove him wild, and leaving
donkey and everything else, he rushed out of camp and started for the
mountains. Stanley, wishing only to frighten him, and having no idea of
leaving the poor fellow to perish at the hands of the natives, sent a
couple of his men to recall him. But it was of no use; the poor,
frightened wretch kept on for the mountains, and was soon out of sight
altogether. Believing he would think better of it and return, his donkey
was tied to a tree near the camping-ground, and the caravan started
forward and having passed through the Makata Valley, which afterward
became of sorrowful memory, it halted at Rehenneko at the base of the
Usagara Mountains.
This valley is a wilderness covered with bamboo, and palm, and other
trees, with but one village on its broad expanse, through which the
hartbeest, the antelope and the zebra roam. In the lower portions, the
mud was so deep that it took ten hours to go ten miles, and the company
was compelled to encamp in the woods when but half-way across. Bombay
with the cart did not get in till near midnight, and he brought the
dolorous tale that he had lost the property-tent, an axe, besides coats,
shirts, beads, cloth, pistol and hatchet and powder. He said he had
left them a little while that he might help lift the cart out of a
mud-hole and during his absence they disappeared. This told to Stanley
at midnight roused all his wrath, and he poured a perfect storm of abuse
on the cringing Arab, and he took occasion to overhaul his conduct from
the start. The cloth if ever found, he said, would be spoiled, the axe,
which would be needed at Ujiji to construct a boat, was an irreparable
loss, to say nothing of the pistol, powder and hatchet, and worse than
all, he had not brought back the cook, whom he knew there was no
intention to abandon, and Stanley then and there told him he would
degrade him from office and put another man in his place, and then
dismissed him, with orders to return at daylight and find the missing
property. Four more were now dispatched after the missing cook, and
Stanley halted three days to wait the return of his men. In the
meantime, provisions ran low, and though there was plenty of game, it
was so wild that but little could be obtained, he being able to secure
but two potfuls in two days' shooting, but these were quail, grouse and
pigeons. On the fourth day, becoming exceedingly anxious, he dispatched
Shaw and two more soldiers after the missing men. Toward night he
returned, sick with ague, bringing the soldiers with him, but not the
missing cook. The soldiers reported that they had marched immediately
back to Simbo and having searched in vain in the vicinity for the
missing man, they went to the bridge over the river to inquire there.
They were told, so they said, that a white donkey had crossed the river
in another place driven by some Washensi. Believing the cook had been
murdered by those men who were making off with his property, they
hastened to the walled town and told the warriors of the western gate
that two Washensi, who had murdered a man belonging to the white man,
must have passed the place, with a white donkey. They were immediately
conducted to the sultana, who had much of the spirit of her father, to
whom they told their story. Of the results, Stanley says:
"The sultana demanded of the watchmen of the towers if they had seen the
two Washensi with the white donkey. The watchmen answered in the
affirmative, upon which she at once dispatched twenty of her musketeers
in pursuit to Muhalleh. These returned before night, bringing with them
the two Washensi and the donkey, with the cook's entire kit. The
sultana, who is evidently possessed of her father's energy, with all his
lust for wealth, had my messengers, the two Washensi, the cook's donkey
and property at once brought before her. The two Washensi were
questioned as to how they became possessed of the donkey and such a
store of Kisunga clothes, cloth and beads; to which they answered that
they had found the donkey tied to a tree with the property on the
ground close to it; that seeing no owner or claimant anywhere in the
neighborhood, they thought they had a right to it, and accordingly had
taken it with them. My soldiers were then asked if they recognized the
donkey and property, to which questions they unhesitatingly made answer
that they did. They further informed Her Highness that they were not
only sent after the donkey, but also after the owner, who had deserted
their master's service; that they would like to know from the Washensi
what they had done with him. Her Highness was also anxious to know what
the Washensi had done with the Hindi, and accordingly, in order to
elicit the fact, she charged them with murdering him, and informed them
she but wished to know what they had done with the body.
"The Washensi declared most earnestly that they had spoken the truth,
that they had never seen any such man as described; and if the sultana
desired, they would swear to such a statement. Her Highness did not wish
them to swear to what in her heart she believed to be a lie, but she
would chain them and send them in charge of a caravan to Zanzibar to
Lyed Burghosh, who would know what to do with them. Then turning to my
soldiers, she demanded to know why the Musungu had not paid the tribute
for which she had sent her chiefs. The soldiers could not answer,
knowing nothing of such concerns of their master's. The heiress of
Kisabengo, true to the character of her robber sire, then informed my
trembling men that, as the Musungu had not paid the tribute, she would
now take it; their guns should be taken from them, together with that of
the cook; the cloth and beads found on the donkey she would also take,
the Hindi's personal clothes her chiefs should retain, while they
themselves should be chained until the Musungu himself should return and
take them by force.
"And as she threatened, so was it done. For sixteen hours my soldiers
were in chains in the market-place, exposed to the taunts of the servile
populace. It chanced the next day, however, that Sheikh Thani, whom I
met at Kingaru, and had since passed by five days, had arrived at
Limbamwanni, and proceeding to the town to purchase provisions for the
crossing of the Makata wilderness, saw my men in chains and at once
recognized them as being in my employ. After hearing their story, the
good-hearted sheikh sought the presence of the sultana, and informed her
that she was doing very wrong--a wrong that could only terminate in
blood. 'The Musungu is strong,' he said, 'very strong. He has got ten
guns which shoot forty times without stopping, carrying bullets half an
hour's distance; he has got several guns which carry bullets that burst
and tear a man in pieces. He could go to the top of that mountain and
kill every man, woman and child in the town before one of your soldiers
could reach the top. The road will then be stopped, Lyed Burghosh will
march against your country, the Wadoe and Wakami will come and take
revenge on what is left; and the place that your father made so strong
will know the Waseguhha no more. Set free the Musungu's soldiers; give
them their food and grain for the Musungu; return the guns to the men
and let them go, for the white man may even now be on his way here.'
"The exaggerated report of my power, and the dread picture sketched by
the Arab sheikh, produced good effect, inasmuch as Kingaru and the
Mabrukis were at once released from durance, furnished with food
sufficient to last our caravan four days, and one gun with its
accoutrements and stock of bullets and powder, was returned, as well as
the cook's donkey, with a pair of spectacles, a book in Malabar print
and an old hat which belonged to one whom we all now believed to be
dead. The sheikh took charge of the soldiers as far as Simbo; and it was
in his camp, partaking largely of rice and ghee, that Shaw found them,
and the same bountiful hospitality was extended to him and his
companions."
Stanley was now filled with keen regrets for the manner in which he had
punished the cook, and mentally he resolved that no matter what a member
of his caravan should do in the future he would never drive him out of
camp to perish by assassins. Still he would not yet believe that the man
was murdered. But he was furious at the treatment of his soldiers by the
black Amazon of Limbamwanni, and the tribute she exacted, especially at
the seizure of the guns, and if he had been near the place would have
made reprisals. But he had already lost four days, and so, next morning,
although the rain was coming down in torrents, he broke camp and set
forth. Shaw was still sick, and so the whole duty of driving the
floundering caravan devolved upon himself. As fast as one was flogged
out of the mire in which he had stuck, another would fall in. It took
two hours to cross the miry plain, though it was but a mile and a half
wide. He was congratulating himself on having at last got over it, when
he was confronted by a ditch which the heavy rains had converted into a
stream breast deep. The donkeys had all to be unloaded, and led through
the torrent, and loaded again on the farther side. They had hardly got
under way when they came upon another stream, so deep that it could not
be forded, over which they had to swim, and float across their baggage.
They then floundered on until they came to a bend of the river, where
they pitched their camp, having made but six miles the whole day. This
River Makata is only about forty feet in width in the dry season, but at
this time it was a wide, turbid stream. Its shores, with its matted
grass, decayed vegetable matter and reeking mists, seemed the very home
of the ague and fever. It took five hours to cross it the next morning.
The rain then came down in such torrents that traveling became
impossible, and the camp was pitched. Luckily this proved the last day
of the rainy season.
It was now the 1st of May, and the expedition was in a pitiable plight.
Shaw was still sick, and one man was down with the small-pox. Bombay,
too, was sick, and others complaining. Doctoring the sick as well as he
knew how, and laying the whip lustily on the backs of those who were
shamming, Stanley at length got his caravan in motion and began to cross
the Makata plain, now a swamp thirty-five miles broad. It was plash,
plash, through the water in some places three or four feet deep, for two
days, until they came in sight of the Rudewa River. Crossing a branch of
this stream, a sheet of water five miles broad stretched out before the
tired caravan. The men declared it could not be crossed, but Stanley
determined to try, and after five hours of the most prostrating effort
they reached dry ground. The animals, however, began to sicken from this
day on, while Stanley himself was seized with dysentery caused by his
exposure, and was brought to the verge of the grave. The expedition
seemed about to end there on the borders of the Makata swamp.
On the 4th, they came to the important village of Rehenneko, the first
near which they had encamped since entering the district of Usagara. It
was a square, compact village, of about one thousand inhabitants,
surrounded by a mud wall and composed of cane-topped huts, which the
natives moved from place to place at pleasure. The peculiar ceremonies
of the queen's court were very interesting to witness. They rested here
four days to recruit. On the 8th, they started forward and began to
ascend the mountain. Having reached the summit of the first range of
hills, Stanley paused to survey the enchanting prospect. The broad
valley of Makata stretched out before him, laced with streams sparkling
in the sun, while over it waved countless palm-trees, and far away, blue
in the distance, stretched a mighty range of mountains. "Turning our
faces west," he says, "we found ourselves in a mountain world, fold
rising above fold, peak behind peak, cone jostling cone; away to the
north, to the west, to the south, the mountain tops rolled away like so
many vitrified waves, not one adust or arid spot was visible in all this
scene."
[Illustration: CEREMONIES OF THE QUEEN'S COURT.
As witnessed in the village of Rehenneko, in the district of Usagara.]
The change from the pestilential swamps, through which they had been so
long floundering, was most grateful, but the animals suffered greatly,
and before they reached their first camping-ground, two had given out.
The 9th, they descended into the valley of Mukondokno, and there struck
the road traversed by Speke and Burton in 1817. Reaching the dirty
village, Kiora, Stanley found there his third caravan, led by Farquhar.
By his debaucheries on the way he had made himself sick and brought his
caravan into a sad condition. As he heard Stanley's voice, he came
staggering out of his tent, a bloated mass of human flesh that never
would have been recognized as the trim mate of the vessel that brought
Stanley from India. After he examined him as to the cause of his
illness, he questioned him about the condition of the property intrusted
to his care. Not able to get an intelligent answer out of him, he
resolved to overhaul the baggage. On examination, he found that he had
spent enough for provisions on which to gormandize to have lasted eight
months, and yet he had been on the route but two and a half months. If
Stanley had not overtaken him, everything would have been squandered,
and of all the bales of cloth he was to take to Unyanyembe not one bale
would have been left. Stanley was sorely puzzled what to do with the
miserable man. He would die if left at Kiora; he could not walk or ride
far, and to carry him seemed well-nigh impossible.
On the 11th, however, the two caravans started forward, leaving Shaw to
follow with one of the men. But he lagged behind, and had not reached
the camp when it was roused next morning. Stanley at once dispatched two
donkeys, one for the load that was on the cart and the other for Shaw,
and with the messenger the following note: "_You will, upon the receipt
of this order, pitch the cart into the nearest ravine, gully or river,
as well as all the extra pack saddles; and come at once, for God's sake,
for we must not starve here._" After waiting four hours, he went back
himself and met them, the carrier with the cart on his head, and Shaw on
the donkey, apparently ready, at the least jolt, to tumble off. They,
however, pushed on, and arrived at Madete at four o'clock. Crossing the
river about three, and keeping on, they, on the 14th, from the top of a
hill caught sight of Lake Ugenlo. The outline of it, he says, resembles
England without Wales. It is some three miles long by two wide, and is
the abode of great numbers of hippopotami, while the buffalo, zebra,
boar and antelope come here by night to quench their thirst. Its bosom
is covered with wild fowl of every description. Being obliged to halt
here two days on account of the desertion of the cooper, with one of the
carbines, Stanley explored the lake, and tried several shots at the
lumbering hippopotami without effect.
[Illustration: SHOOTING HIPPOPOTAMI NEAR LAKE UGENLO.]
The deserter having returned of his own free will, the caravan started
forward, cursed by the slow progress of the peevish, profane and violent
Shaw. The next day at breakfast, a scene occurred that threatened
serious consequences. When Shaw and Farquhar took their places, Stanley
saw by their looks that something was wrong. The breakfast was a roast
quarter of goat, stewed liver, some sweet potatoes, pancakes and coffee.
"Shaw," said Stanley, "please carve and serve Farquhar." Instead of
doing so, he exclaimed, in an insulting tone, "What dog's meat is this?"
"What do you mean?" demanded Stanley. "I mean," replied the fellow,
"that it is a downright shame the way you treat us," and then he
complained of being compelled to walk and help himself, instead of
having servants to wait upon him as he was promised. All this was said
in a loud, defiant tone, interlarded with frequent oaths and curses of
the "damned expedition," etc. When he had got through, Stanley, fixing
his black, resolute eye on him, said: "Listen to me, Shaw, and you,
Farquhar, ever since you left the coast have had donkeys to ride. You
have had servants to wait upon you; your tents have been set up for you;
your meals have been cooked for you; you have eaten with me of the same
food I have eaten; you have received the same treatment I have received.
But now all Farquhar's donkeys are dead; seven of my own have died, and
I have had to throw away a few things, in order to procure carriage for
the most important goods. Farquhar is too sick to walk, he must have a
donkey to ride; in a few days all our animals will be dead, after which
I must have over twenty more pagosi to take up the goods or wait weeks
and weeks for carriage. Yet, in the face of these things, you can
grumble, and curse, and swear at me at my own table. Have you considered
well your position? Do you realize where you are? Do you know that you
are my servant, sir, not my companion?"
"Servant, be ----" said he.
Just before Mr. Shaw could finish his sentence he had measured his
length on the ground.
"Is it necessary for me to proceed further to teach you?" said Stanley.
"I tell you what it is, sir," he said, raising himself up, "I think I
had better go back. I have had enough, and I do not mean to go any
farther with you. I ask my discharge from you."
"Oh, certainly. What--who is there? Bombay, come here."
After Bombay's appearance at the tent-door, Stanley said to him: "Strike
this man's tent," pointing to Shaw; "he wants to go back. Bring his gun
and pistol here to my tent, and take this man and his baggage two
hundred yards outside of the camp, and there leave him."
In a few minutes his tent was down, his gun and pistol in Stanley's
tent, and Bombay returned to make his report, with four men under arms.
"Now go, sir. You are at perfect liberty to go. These men will escort
you outside of camp, and there leave you and your baggage."
He walked out, the men escorting him and carrying his baggage for him.
After breakfast, Stanley explained to Farquhar how necessary it was to
be able to proceed; that he had had plenty of trouble, without having to
think of men who were employed to think of him and their duties; that,
as he (Farquhar) was sick, and would be probably unable to march for a
time, it would be better to leave him in some quiet place, under the
care of a good chief, who would, for a consideration, look after him
until he got well. To all of which Farquhar agreed.
Stanley had barely finished speaking before Bombay came to the
tent-door, saying: "Shaw would like to speak to you."
Stanley went out to the door of the camp, and there met Shaw, looking
extremely penitent and ashamed. He commenced to ask pardon, and began
imploring to be taken back, and promising that occasion to find fault
with him again should never arise.
Stanley held out his hand, saying: "Don't mention it, my dear fellow.
Quarrels occur in the best of families. Since you apologize, there is an
end of it."
That night, as Stanley was about falling asleep, he heard a shot, and a
bullet tore through the tent a few inches above his body. He snatched
his revolver and rushed out from the tent, and asked the men around the
watch-fires, "Who shot?" They had all jumped up, rather startled by the
sudden report.
"Who fired that gun?"
One said the "Bana Mdogo"--little master.
Stanley lit a candle and walked with it to Shaw's tent.
"Shaw, did you fire?"
There was no answer. He seemed to be asleep, he was breathing so hard.
"Shaw! Shaw! did you fire that shot?"
"Eh--eh?" said he, suddenly awakening; "me?--me fire? I have been
asleep."
Stanley's eye caught sight of his gun lying near him. He seized it--felt
it--put his little finger down the barrel. The gun was warm; his finger
was black from the burnt gunpowder.
"What is this?" he asked, holding his finger up; "the gun is warm; the
men tell me you fired."
"Ah--yes," he replied, "I remember it. I dreamed I saw a thief pass my
door, and I fired. Ah--yes--I forgot, I did fire. Why, what's the
matter?"
"Oh, nothing," said Stanley. "But I would advise you, in future, in
order to avoid all suspicion, not to fire into my tent; or, at least, so
near me. I might get hurt, you know, in which case ugly reports would
get about, and that, perhaps, would be disagreeable, as you are probably
aware. Good-night."
All had their thoughts about this matter, but Stanley never uttered a
word about it to any one until he met Livingstone. The doctor embodied
his suspicions in the words: "He intended murder!"
Mr. Livingstone was evidently right in his conjecture, and Mr. Stanley
wrong about the intent of Shaw. In the first place, the coincidence in
time between the punishment inflicted on Shaw and this extraordinary
shot, in which the ball took the still more extraordinary direction of
going through Stanley's tent, that is, to say the least, very difficult
to explain. In the second place, his drowsy condition when questioned,
and finally remembering so much as that he dreamed a thief was passing
his door, _is more_ than suspicious. The fact that, as Mr. Stanley says,
he could have had much better opportunities of killing him than this, we
regard of very little weight. Opportunities that are absolutely
_certain_ of success without suspicion or detection, are not so common
as many suppose. Besides, an opportunity so good that the would-be
murderer could desire nothing better might occur, and yet the shot or
stab not prove fatal. In this case it doubtless never occurred to this
man that any one would run his finger down his gun-barrel to see if it
was hot from a recent discharge, while no man could tell, in the middle
of the night, who fired the shot. It is true, that the wretch knew that
the chances were against such a random fire proving fatal, but he knew
it was better to take them than the almost certain discovery if he
adopted any other method. If, for instance, he had in a lonely place
fired at Stanley and the shot had not proved mortal, or if mortal, not
immediately so, he well knew what would have been his fate, in the heart
of Africa, where justice is administered without the form of law.
On the 16th of May the little caravan started off again, and after a
march of fifteen miles, camped at Matamombo, in a region where monkeys,
rhinoceros, steinboks and antelopes abounded. The next day's march
extended fifteen miles, and was through an almost impenetrable jungle.
Here he came upon the old Arab sheikh, Thani, who gave him the following
good advice: "Stop here two or three days, give your tired animals some
rest, and collect all the carriers you can; fill your insides with fresh
milk, sweet potatoes, beef, mutton, ghee, honey, beans, matama, madeira
nuts, and then, Inshalla! we shall go through Ugogo without stopping
anywhere." Stanley was sensible enough to take this advice. He at once
commenced on this certainly very prodigal bill of fare for Central
Africa. How it agreed with him after the short trial of a single day,
may be inferred from the following entry in his diary:
"Thank God! after fifty-seven days of living upon matama porridge and
tough goat, I have enjoyed with unctuous satisfaction a real breakfast
and a good dinner."
Here upon the Mpwapwa, he found a place to leave the Scotchman,
Farquhar, until he should be strong enough to join him at Unyanyembe.
But when he proposed this to the friendly chief, he would consent only
on the condition that he would leave one of his own men behind to take
care of him. This complicated matters, not only because he could not
well spare a man, but because it would be difficult to find one who
would consent to undertake this difficult task. This man, whom Stanley
had thought would be a reliable friend and a good companion in his long,
desolate marches, had turned out a burden and a nuisance. His wants were
almost endless, and instead of using the few words in the language of
the natives to make them known, he would use nothing but the strongest
Anglo-Saxon, and when he found he was not understood, would fall to
cursing in equally good round English oaths, and if the astonished
natives did not understand this, relapse into regular John Bull
sullenness. When, therefore, Stanley opened up the subject to Bombay,
the latter was horrified. He said the men had made a contract to go
through, not to stop by the way; and when Stanley, in despair, turned to
the men, they one and all refused absolutely to remain behind with the
cursing, unreasonable white man, one of them mimicking his absurd
conduct so completely, that Stanley himself could not help laughing. But
the man must be left behind, and somebody must take care of him; and so
Stanley had to use his authority, and notwithstanding all his
protestations and entreaties, Sako, the only one who could speak
English, was ordered to stay.
Having engaged twelve new carriers, and from the nearest mountain summit
obtained an entrancing view of the surrounding region for a hundred
miles, he prepared to start, but not before, notwithstanding the good
milk it furnished, giving Mpwapwa a thorough malediction for its
earwigs. "In my tent," he says, "they might be counted by thousands; in
my slung cot by hundreds; on my clothes they were by fifties; on my neck
and head they were by scores. The several plagues of locusts, fleas and
lice sink into utter insignificance compared with this damnable one of
earwigs." Their presence drove him almost insane. Next to these come the
white ants, that threatened in a short time to eat up every article of
baggage.
He now pushed on toward the Ugogo district, famous for the tribute it
exacted from all caravans.