PRESSING TOWARDS THE INTERIOR.
For a half an hour after the magic doctor left, Stanley sat quietly in
his camp, his anxieties now thoroughly dissipated, thinking over his
speedy departure for the Nyanza. The camp was situated on the margin of
a vast wilderness, which stretched he knew not how far westward, while
away to the north, south and east extended a wide, open plain, dotted
over, as far as the eye could see, with villages. There were nearly two
hundred of them, looking is the distance like clusters of beehives.
Everything was peaceful, and not a sound disturbed the Sabbath-like
stillness of the scene, when there suddenly broke on his ears the shrill
war-cry, which was taken up by village after village till the whole
valley resounded with it. It was one loud "he-hu, he-hu," the last
syllable prolonged and uttered in a high, piercing note that made the
blood shiver. Still Stanley felt no alarm, supposing that some war
expedition was about to be set on foot, or some enemy was reported to be
near, and listened to the barbaric cry simply with curiosity. The men in
the camp kept about their usual avocations--some fetching water from a
neighboring pool, while others were starting off after wood--when
suddenly a hundred warriors appeared close to camp in full war costume.
Feathers of the eagle and other birds waved above their heads, "the mane
of the zebra and giraffe encircled their foreheads, their left hand held
the bow and arrows, while the right grasped the spear." Stanley arose,
and telling the men not to leave camp nor do anything to provoke a
hostile act, waited to see what this sudden warlike attitude meant.
In the meantime the throng increased till the entire camp was
surrounded. A slight bush fence had been built around it, which, though
it concealed those within, was too slight to be of use in case of an
attack. Seeing that this hostile demonstration was against _him_,
Stanley sent out a young man who spoke their language, to inquire what
they wanted. Six or seven warriors advanced to meet him, when a lively
conversation followed. The messenger soon returned and reported that
they accused one of the party of having stolen some milk and butter from
a small village, and they must be paid for it in cloth. He at once sent
the messenger back, directing him to tell the warriors that he did not
come into their country to rob or steal, and if anything had been taken
from them they had but to name the price they asked for it and it should
be paid at once. The messenger brought back word that they demanded four
yards of sheeting; although this was worth four times as much as the
articles were which they alleged had been stolen, he was very glad to
settle the matter so easily, and it was measured and sent to them. The
elders declared that they were perfectly satisfied, and they all
withdrew. But Stanley could not at once shake off the suspicion this
unexpected show of hostile feeling had excited, and he watched narrowly
the villages in the distance. He soon saw that the warriors were not
pacified if the elders were, for he could see them hurrying together
from all parts of the plain and gesticulating wildly.
Still he hoped the elders would keep them from any overt act of
hostility. While he was watching them, he saw about two hundred men
separate themselves from the main body, and taking a sweep, make for the
woods west of the camp. They had hardly entered when one of Stanley's
men rushed forth from the same vicinity into camp bleeding profusely
from his face and arms. He said that Suleiman (a youth) and he were
gathering wood when the savages came suddenly upon them. He was struck
with a stick that broke his nose, and his arm was pierced with a spear,
while Suleiman fell pierced with a dozen spears. His story and bloody
appearance so excited the soldiers that Stanley could with difficulty
restrain them from rushing out at once and attacking the murderers. He
did not yet despair of preventing an outbreak, but took care to open the
ammunition and be prepared for the worst. He saw at once that an
immensely large force could be brought against him, and he must fortify
himself or he would be overwhelmed by numbers, and so ordered the men
immediately to commence strengthening the fence. They had not been long
employed at it when the savages made a dash at the camp, and sent a
shower of arrows into it. Stanley immediately ordered sixty soldiers to
deploy fifty yards in front. At the word of command they rushed out, and
the battle commenced.
The enemy soon turned in flight and the soldiers pursued them. Every man
was now ordered to work on the defenses; some cut down thorn-trees and
threw together rapidly a high fence all around the camp, while others
were ordered to build platforms within for the sharp-shooters. All this
time Stanley could hear the fire of the soldiers growing more and more
indistinct in the distance. When the fence was completed he directed the
sections of the Lady Alice to be placed so as to form a sort of central
camp, to which they could retire in the last extremity. As soon as
everything was finished he ordered the bugle to sound the retreat, and
soon the skirmishers came in sight. They reported fifteen of the enemy
killed. All had fought bravely, even a bull-dog had seized a savage and
was tearing him to pieces, when a bullet put the poor wretch out of his
misery.
They were not molested again that day, which gave them time to make
their position still stronger. The night passed quietly, and they were
allowed to breakfast in peace. But about 9 o'clock the savages in great
numbers advanced upon the camp. All hopes of peace were now at an end,
and since he was forced to fight, Stanley determined to inflict no
half-way punishment, but sweep that fair valley with the besom of
destruction. He therefore selected four reliable men, placed them at the
head of four detachments, assigning to each a fleet runner, whose duty
it was, not to fight, but to report any disaster that threatened or
befell the detachment to which the man belonged. He then ordered them to
move out and attack the savages. As the route of the enemy was certain,
he directed them to pursue them separately, yet keep before them as the
place of final rendezvous, some high rocks five miles distant down the
valley. The detachments poured forth from the camp, and the deadly
fire-arms so appalled those savage warriors, armed only with the bow and
spear, that they at once turned and fled. The detachments followed in
hot pursuit, and what promised to be a fight, became a regular stampede.
But one detachment having pursued a large force of the enemy into the
open plain, the latter turned at bay.
The leader of the detachment, excited by the pursuit, and believing, in
his contempt for the savages, that the mere sight of his little band
would send them scurrying away in deadly fear, charged boldly on them.
Quick as thought they closed around him in overwhelming numbers. The
runner alone escaped and bore the sad tidings to Stanley. The
appointment of these runners shows his wonderful prevision--that
foresight which on many occasions alone saved him. He at once sent
assistance to the detachment that the courier had reported surrounded.
Alas, before it arrived every man had been massacred. The aid, though it
came too late to save the brave detachment, arrived just in time to save
the second, which was just falling into the same snare, for the large
force that had annihilated the first had now turned on this, and its
fate seemed sealed. The reinforcements hurried off by Stanley found it
completely hemmed in by the savages. Two soldiers had already been
killed, the captain was wounded, and in a few minutes more they would
have shared the fate of the first detachment.
It was at this critical moment they arrived, and suddenly pouring a
deadly volley into the rear of the assailants, sent them to the right
about with astonishing quickness. The two detachments now wheeled and
poured a concentrated volley into the savages, which sent them flying
wildly over the plain. A swift pursuit was commenced, but the fleet
enemy could not be overtaken, and the march up the valley was scarcely
resisted. Stanley, in camp, carefully watched the progress of the
fight, which could be distinguished at first by the volleys of his
soldiers, and when, receding in the distance, these could be no longer
heard, by the puffs of smoke which showed where the pursuit led.
But at length clouds of smoke of a different character began to ascend
from the quiet valley. To the right and left the dark columns obscured
the noonday sun, and far as the eye could reach, the plain, with its
hundreds of villages of thatched huts, presented one wide conflagration,
till the murky mass of cloudy vapor, as it rolled heavenward, made it
appear like a second Sodom, suffering the vengeance of heaven. To the
distance of eight miles, Stanley could see jets of smoke that told of
burning villages. He had delayed to the last moment hostile action, but
having once commenced it he meant to leave behind him no power of
retaliation.
It was a victorious but sad day, and the return of the detachments was
anything but a triumphal march, for they bore back twenty-one dead men,
besides the wounded, while they could report but thirty-five of the
enemy killed. So little difference in the number of the slain, when one
was the pursued and the other the pursuing party, and when the former
was armed only with spears and bows, and the latter with the deadly
rifle, seems at first sight unaccountable, but it must be remembered
that the unfortunate detachment that was surrounded and massacred to a
man, furnished almost the entire list of the killed.
The camp was at peace that night, but it was a sad peace. A few more
such victories as this and Stanley would be left without an expedition.
This unfortunate experience with these people showed the danger of his
undertaking a new route. His object was not to travel among new people,
but to reach the lake region with his boat and settle great geographical
problems and establish certain facts having an intimate bearing on the
future of Africa. Yet by his chosen course he really obtained no new and
valuable information but imperiled and well-nigh ruined the expedition
fitted out with so much expense and care.
His was the nearest course to the lake, yet the long one by which Speke
reached it was the safest. He had been in a perilous position, and it
was clearly his own foresight that saved him. The appointment of a
courier or swift runner to each detachment to act as a telegraph, would
probably have occurred to few, yet this certainly saved one detachment
from destruction and how much more no one can tell.
But he was not satisfied with the vengeance he had taken and the
devastation he had wrought. He had resolved to teach those savage
negroes a lesson on the danger of treachery to strangers, and he meant,
now he had commenced it, to make it thorough and complete, and so next
morning he sent off sixty men to proceed to the farthest end of the
valley, some eight miles away, and destroy what yet remained; passing on
through the ruins of the villages, they came to a large village in the
extreme northeast. A very slight resistance was made here, and they
entered it and applied the torch, and soon it shared the fate of all the
rest. Before they destroyed it, however, they loaded themselves with
grain. Provisions were now plenty, for the frightened negroes had left
everything behind them in their flight. There was no longer any need of
purchasing food, the valley was depopulated, and all the accumulated
provisions of the inhabitants was at the mercy of the victors. Finding
he had enough to last the expedition six days, Stanley next morning
started westward before daybreak, and was soon far away from this valley
of destruction, leaving the thoroughly humbled natives to crawl back to
the ashes of their ruined homes. Without further trouble, in three days,
he reached Iramba. Here he halted and took a calm survey of his
condition and prospects. He found that out of the more than three
hundred men with which he had left the coast, but one hundred and
ninety-four remained.
Sickness, desertion and battle had reduced his number over a third
before he had reached the point where his actual labors were to
commence. It was not a pleasant look-out, for, although two hundred
men, well armed with rifles, made a formidable force in a country where
only arrows and spears were used, still this heavy ratio of loss must
stop, or the expedition itself must fail. He was not in a country where
he could recruit soldiers, and each one lost was a dead loss, and
thousands of miles of exploration lay before him, in prosecuting which,
he knew not how many battles would be fought, nor how much sickness
would have to be encountered. It would not seem a difficult piece of
arithmetical calculation to determine how long three hundred men would
last if one-third disappeared in three months, or how many men it would
require to prosecute his labors three years. But Stanley never seemed to
act as though he thought defeat possible. Whether his faith was in God,
himself, or his star, it was nevertheless a strong and controlling
faith. Still, now and then it is very evident that he was perfectly
conscious of the desperate nature of his condition, and felt disease,
which carried off his friends and retainers, or the spear, might end, at
any moment, his explorations and his life.
Though out of Urimi at last, yet Stanley found the natives of Iramba a
very little improvement on those of the former district. Mirambo was
their terror, and hence they were suspicious of all strangers. Again and
again he was mistaken for this terrible chieftain, and narrowly escaped
being attacked. In fact, this formidable warrior was fighting at one
time within a day's march of him.
Urukuma was the next district he entered after Iramba, and he found it
thickly peopled and rich in cattle. It consisted for the most part of
rolling plains, with scattered chains of jagged hills. He was on the
slope that led to the Nyanza, and the descent was so gradual, that he
expected to find the lake, whose exploration he designed to make
thorough and complete, comparatively shallow, although it covered a vast
area. At last he reached a little village, not a hundred yards from the
shore, and encamped. At this point he describes the topography of the
new country he had passed over. He says:
"As far as Western Ugogo I may pass over without attempting to describe
the country, as readers may obtain a detailed account of it from 'How I
Found Livingstone.' Thence north is a new country to all, and a brief
description of it may be interesting to students of African geography.
"North of Mizanza a level plain extends as far as the frontier of
Urandawi, a distance of thirty-five miles (English). At Mukondoku the
altitude, as indicated by two first-rate aneroids, was two thousand,
eight hundred feet. At Mtiwi, twenty miles north, the altitude was two
thousand eight hundred and twenty-five feet. Diverging west and
north-west, we ascend the slope of a lengthy mountain-wall, apparently,
but which, upon arriving at the summit, we ascertain to be a wide
plateau covered with forests. This plateau has an altitude of three
thousand eight hundred feet at its eastern extremity; but, as it extends
westward it rises to a height of four thousand five hundred feet. It
embraces all Uyanzi, Unyanyembe, Usukuma, Urimi and Iramba--in short,
all that part of Central Africa lying between the valley of the Rufiji
south and the Victoria Nyanza north, and the mean altitude of this broad
upland cannot exceed four thousand five hundred feet. From Mizanza to
the Nyanza is a distance of nearly three hundred geographical miles;
yet, at no part of this long journey did the aneroids indicate a higher
altitude than five thousand one hundred feet above the sea.
"As far as Urimi, from the eastern edge of the plateau, the land is
covered with a dense jungle of acacias, which, by its density, strangles
all other species of vegetation. Here and there, only in the cleft of a
rock, a giant euphorbia may be seen, sole lord of its sterile domain.
The soil is shallow, and consists of vegetable mould, mixed largely with
sand and detritus of the bare rocks, which crown each knoll and ridge,
and which testify too plainly to the violence of the periodical rains.
"In the basin of Matongo, in Southern Urimi, we were instructed by the
ruins and ridges, relics of a loftier upland, of what has been effected
by nature in the course of long ages. No learned geological savant need
ever expound to the traveler who views these rocky ruins, the geological
history of this country. From a distance we viewed the glistening naked
and riven rocks as a singular scene; but when we stood among them, and
noted the appearance of the rocky fragments of granite, gneiss and
porphyry peeled as it were rind after rind, or leaf after leaf, like an
artichoke, until the rock was wasted away, it seemed as if Dame Nature
has left these relics, these hilly skeletons, to demonstrate her laws
and career. It seemed to me as if she said, 'Lo, and behold this broad
basin of Matongo, with its teeming villages and herds of cattle and
fields of corn, surrounded by these bare rocks--in primeval time this
land was covered with water, it was the bed of a vast sea. The waters
were dried, leaving a wide expanse of level land, upon which I caused
heavy rains to fall five months out of each year during all the ages
that have elapsed since first the hot sunshine fell upon the soil. The
rains washed away the loose sand and made deep furrows in course of
time, until in certain places the rocky kernel under the soil began to
appear. The furrows became enlarged, the waters frittered away their
banks and conveyed the earth away to lower levels, through which it wore
away a channel, first through the soil and lastly through the rock
itself, which you may see if you but walk to the bottom of that basin.
You will there behold a channel worn through the solid rock some fifty
feet in depth; and as you look on that you will have some idea of the
power and force of the tropical rains. It is through that channel that
the soil robbed from these rocks has been carried away toward the Nyanza
to fill its depths and in time make dry land of it. Now you may ask how
came these once solid rocks, which are now but skeletons of hills and
stony heaps, to be thus split into so many fragments? Have you never
seen the effect of water thrown upon lime? The solid rocks have been
broken or peeled in an almost similar manner. The tropic sun heated the
face of these rocks to an intense heat, and the cold rain falling upon
the heated surface caused them to split and peel as you see them.'
"This is really the geological history of this region simply told. Ridge
after ridge, basin after basin, from Western Ugogo to the Nyanza, tells
the same tale; but it is not until we enter Central Urimi, that we begin
to marvel at the violence of the process by which nature has transformed
the face of the land. For here the perennial springs and rivulets begin
to unite and form rivers, after collecting and absorbing the moisture
from the water-shed; and these rivers, though but gentle streams during
the dry season, become formidable during the rains. It is in Central
Urimi that the Nile first begins to levy tribute upon Equatorial
Africa, and if you look upon the map and draw a line east from the
latitude of Ujiji to longitude thirty-five degrees you will strike upon
the sources of the Leewumbu, which is the extreme southern feeder of the
Victoria Nyanza.
"In Iramba, between Mgongo Tembo and Mombiti, we came upon what must
have been in former times an arm of the Victoria Nyanza. It is called
the Lumamberri Plain, after a river of that name, and is about forty
miles in width. Its altitude is three thousand seven hundred and
seventy-five feet above the sea and but a few feet above Victoria
Nyanza. We were fortunate in crossing the broad, shallow stream in the
dry season, for during the _masika_ or rainy season the plain is
converted into a wide lake.
"The Leewumbu River, after a course of a hundred and seventy-five miles,
becomes known as the Monaugh River, in Usukuma. After another run of a
hundred miles, it is converted into Shimeeyu, under which name it enters
the Victoria east of this port of Kagehyi. Roughly the Shimeeyu may be
said to have a length of three hundred and fifty miles."